pigtails gettin' their praise on.jpg
there's a support group for that.
today i blew my baby's nose into a pair of dirty socks.
usually, i would opt for my sleeve, or a receipt from my pocket, or whatever elderly tissue i could find crumpled in the bottom of my diaper bag. but today was special. today was a snot-in-sock kinda day. we were at the park with some lovely friends (shout out to jeannine and her well-behaved and sweet kiddos) and it was getting pretty hot, so i had marlie take off her socks. it was handy timing because not too long after that, i saw london trying to blow her own nose into the pocket of her overalls.
"sick," i think to myself. dirty socks made much more sense.
this was my first playdate with this woman. and i was thankful that she didn't judge me. out loud.
i have been processing through this whole judging, comparing, insecurity issue. i think i am coming into a good place where i am starting to, unabashedly, be who i am. in some ways, i feel like i have always been myself... no matter who i was around. but, immediately upon leaving any social situation... i beat myself up for being myself. for talking too much, or being too opinionated, or for asking such personal questions, or for not asking enough questions, or for waving my gangly limbs around too much when i talk.
this blog has actually been very therapeutic in regard to being myself. lately, a few "closeted" readers came forward and confessed to following my blog. they were such encouraging women! they said such lovely, complimentary things. but the best thing was when my friend, sue, said "it makes me feel like maybe i can be my self, and i don't have to fake it all the time."
what a blessing those words were to me. so often i consider whether or not i should filter, or sensor, or eliminate something i have done, or said, or felt. tom, my faithful proof-reader, continually encourages me, saying something to the effect of "you haven't had a filter a day in your life, why would you start now."
he frees me to be me. sue, and these other ladies that encouraged me and my little blog, freed me up to be me. and even those little moments where i literally (or figuratively) blow my baby's nose in a pair of gym socks, and forget that maybe that's disgusting and my new friend might be repulsed... instead, she just laughs and suggests i blog about it, and makes me feel free to be me.
so, this blog post is dedicated to any other secret blog- followers out there. you may think of yourself as a "blog-stalker" or even a "creeper" as one woman swore that she was not. but i don't care how shady or shifty you are, this post is for you readers in the closet. just know, that there are others out there just like you. you are not in this alone. and i appreciate you all, even if you never come forward. when i write some crazy story about my life, or an even crazier story about what goes on in this head of mine... you read it and you don't send me mean emails, and in some small way, that makes me feel free to be myself. and for better or worse, i am one nutty broad... so i will take all the freedom i can get!
if you, or someone you love, has secretly followed a blog... now is the time to confess it. there is a whole bunch of us out there. so don't be ashamed of how creeptastic you may seem., just confess your blog love freely. and, if you're in a pinch, wipe a nose with whatever you fancy.
usually, i would opt for my sleeve, or a receipt from my pocket, or whatever elderly tissue i could find crumpled in the bottom of my diaper bag. but today was special. today was a snot-in-sock kinda day. we were at the park with some lovely friends (shout out to jeannine and her well-behaved and sweet kiddos) and it was getting pretty hot, so i had marlie take off her socks. it was handy timing because not too long after that, i saw london trying to blow her own nose into the pocket of her overalls.
"sick," i think to myself. dirty socks made much more sense.
this was my first playdate with this woman. and i was thankful that she didn't judge me. out loud.
i have been processing through this whole judging, comparing, insecurity issue. i think i am coming into a good place where i am starting to, unabashedly, be who i am. in some ways, i feel like i have always been myself... no matter who i was around. but, immediately upon leaving any social situation... i beat myself up for being myself. for talking too much, or being too opinionated, or for asking such personal questions, or for not asking enough questions, or for waving my gangly limbs around too much when i talk.
this blog has actually been very therapeutic in regard to being myself. lately, a few "closeted" readers came forward and confessed to following my blog. they were such encouraging women! they said such lovely, complimentary things. but the best thing was when my friend, sue, said "it makes me feel like maybe i can be my self, and i don't have to fake it all the time."
what a blessing those words were to me. so often i consider whether or not i should filter, or sensor, or eliminate something i have done, or said, or felt. tom, my faithful proof-reader, continually encourages me, saying something to the effect of "you haven't had a filter a day in your life, why would you start now."
he frees me to be me. sue, and these other ladies that encouraged me and my little blog, freed me up to be me. and even those little moments where i literally (or figuratively) blow my baby's nose in a pair of gym socks, and forget that maybe that's disgusting and my new friend might be repulsed... instead, she just laughs and suggests i blog about it, and makes me feel free to be me.
so, this blog post is dedicated to any other secret blog- followers out there. you may think of yourself as a "blog-stalker" or even a "creeper" as one woman swore that she was not. but i don't care how shady or shifty you are, this post is for you readers in the closet. just know, that there are others out there just like you. you are not in this alone. and i appreciate you all, even if you never come forward. when i write some crazy story about my life, or an even crazier story about what goes on in this head of mine... you read it and you don't send me mean emails, and in some small way, that makes me feel free to be myself. and for better or worse, i am one nutty broad... so i will take all the freedom i can get!
if you, or someone you love, has secretly followed a blog... now is the time to confess it. there is a whole bunch of us out there. so don't be ashamed of how creeptastic you may seem., just confess your blog love freely. and, if you're in a pinch, wipe a nose with whatever you fancy.
should we worry.jpg
all hands on deck.jpg
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anything you can do, i can do better.
i might have a seriously major problem. comparing myself to others has been a lifelong infection of mine. i intentionally choose the word infection because that is what it is. infection is defined as being tainted or contaminated with something that affects quality, character, or condition unfavorably.
comparing myself to others is something that affects life's quality, my personal character and the condition of my heart unfavorably. i am a sick, sick woman.
i think that this infection (for me) started at childbirth. i was born 18 short months after my organized and athletically gifted sister, who could do almost anything better than me. she was a more disciplined student, a much better athlete, and she always had her uniforms washed by game day. comparatively, i was a bright, but distracted student who rarely "applied herself." i was mediocre at sports, and had to sneak out of school during my lunch hour to go home and wash my uniform on game day. and i usually washed the home jersey for away games, and vice versa. my antics irritated my sister, and almost anyone in a position of authority.
don't get me wrong, i wasn't a complete idiot. i'm just a little more free-spirited than your average apply-oneself-er. it's not that i got bad grades, they just didn't reflect my potential. one semester in college, i decided that i would actually try to get a 4.0. i had 18 credit hours that semester, so it was the perfect time to see if i really had what it takes to ace a challenging course load. i got a 4.0. i didn't tell anyone at the time, and i never tried to apply myself so thoroughly ever again.
while i may not have told anyone, i kept track of that achievement in my mind. if someone out-performed me in school... i could always say "well, if i had applied myself, i would have done just as well." (comparison: victory for me.) it is really out of self-preservation that i needed a secret comparison victory like this, because i spent the other 99% of my life feeling bad about the losses in most comparisons: "wow, that girls has incredibly thick hair, but not frizzy-thick, her hair is smooth, shiny, pantene-commerical-thick. my hair isn't so much thick, as it is big. not pantene-big, but 80's-big." (comparison: loss for me.) "her kids know all their state capitols?? and they recite the old testament in its entirety out loud before dinner? and they eat the egg whites? unsalted!? she is super mom. i'm the worst." (comparison: loss for me.) "but, her kids don't understand dry humor." (comparison: victory.)
do you see what i mean? i'm totally sick and infected. it's like the circular argument i am constantly having in my head: i am the worst-----> at least i'm not as bad as that guy-------> i am a total fool-------> she acted dumber than i did--------> i wish i could be her-----------> i could probably beat her up in a survival situation-----------> i would never act like that!----------> i can't believe i acted like that----------> i'm the worst----------> i can't believe that i am seriously the best.
sick. twisted. infected.
i hate comparing myself to others. i usually lose out to some busty broad who fills out her dress like a proper adult... and to make myself feel better, i try to find a comparison victory to make myself feel better. so, i search and i come up with something like, at least i know not to wear the sock/sandal combination that lady is rockin'. it's horrible, and it doesn't make me feel better. it makes me feel like a huge jerk. which leads to "well, at least i'm not as big of a jerk as...."
if all of you egg my house tonight, i will understand why. i just egged it for saying this stuff out loud.
so, i have been contemplating the comparison trap. i have realized that it leads (in my mind) to some perceived loss or victory. the losses, obviously, make me feel horrible. and the victories make me feel a little better for a hot second, but ultimately make me feel horrible. the trap is this: "victories" lead to pride (sickening), or "losses" lead to self-loathing (sickening.) either way, comparing myself to others makes me more and more self-focused and sickening by the second. so, i quit.
i am giving up comparisons. i am choosing to believe that i am fearfully and wonderfully made, and so is everyone else. no better, no worse. we are all made in the image of a good and perfect God who is neither impressed by my "victories", nor disgusted at my "losses." so, i am choosing to agree with God on who i am, and who others are. i am going to stop measuring myself against other women, and start measuring myself against who i know God created me to be.
this is going to be really hard because it all happens in my head where there is zero accountability. so, if you see me deep in thought, just slap me right across the face as hard as you can because i am, undoubtedly, comparing myself to someone else. i will gladly do the same for all my sisters out there who are stuck in this same sick trap of comparing ourselves, and our families, and our gifts, and our faults, and so on...
i'll even bet i can slap harder than you can slap.
comparing myself to others is something that affects life's quality, my personal character and the condition of my heart unfavorably. i am a sick, sick woman.
i think that this infection (for me) started at childbirth. i was born 18 short months after my organized and athletically gifted sister, who could do almost anything better than me. she was a more disciplined student, a much better athlete, and she always had her uniforms washed by game day. comparatively, i was a bright, but distracted student who rarely "applied herself." i was mediocre at sports, and had to sneak out of school during my lunch hour to go home and wash my uniform on game day. and i usually washed the home jersey for away games, and vice versa. my antics irritated my sister, and almost anyone in a position of authority.
don't get me wrong, i wasn't a complete idiot. i'm just a little more free-spirited than your average apply-oneself-er. it's not that i got bad grades, they just didn't reflect my potential. one semester in college, i decided that i would actually try to get a 4.0. i had 18 credit hours that semester, so it was the perfect time to see if i really had what it takes to ace a challenging course load. i got a 4.0. i didn't tell anyone at the time, and i never tried to apply myself so thoroughly ever again.
while i may not have told anyone, i kept track of that achievement in my mind. if someone out-performed me in school... i could always say "well, if i had applied myself, i would have done just as well." (comparison: victory for me.) it is really out of self-preservation that i needed a secret comparison victory like this, because i spent the other 99% of my life feeling bad about the losses in most comparisons: "wow, that girls has incredibly thick hair, but not frizzy-thick, her hair is smooth, shiny, pantene-commerical-thick. my hair isn't so much thick, as it is big. not pantene-big, but 80's-big." (comparison: loss for me.) "her kids know all their state capitols?? and they recite the old testament in its entirety out loud before dinner? and they eat the egg whites? unsalted!? she is super mom. i'm the worst." (comparison: loss for me.) "but, her kids don't understand dry humor." (comparison: victory.)
do you see what i mean? i'm totally sick and infected. it's like the circular argument i am constantly having in my head: i am the worst-----> at least i'm not as bad as that guy-------> i am a total fool-------> she acted dumber than i did--------> i wish i could be her-----------> i could probably beat her up in a survival situation-----------> i would never act like that!----------> i can't believe i acted like that----------> i'm the worst----------> i can't believe that i am seriously the best.
sick. twisted. infected.
i hate comparing myself to others. i usually lose out to some busty broad who fills out her dress like a proper adult... and to make myself feel better, i try to find a comparison victory to make myself feel better. so, i search and i come up with something like, at least i know not to wear the sock/sandal combination that lady is rockin'. it's horrible, and it doesn't make me feel better. it makes me feel like a huge jerk. which leads to "well, at least i'm not as big of a jerk as...."
if all of you egg my house tonight, i will understand why. i just egged it for saying this stuff out loud.
so, i have been contemplating the comparison trap. i have realized that it leads (in my mind) to some perceived loss or victory. the losses, obviously, make me feel horrible. and the victories make me feel a little better for a hot second, but ultimately make me feel horrible. the trap is this: "victories" lead to pride (sickening), or "losses" lead to self-loathing (sickening.) either way, comparing myself to others makes me more and more self-focused and sickening by the second. so, i quit.
i am giving up comparisons. i am choosing to believe that i am fearfully and wonderfully made, and so is everyone else. no better, no worse. we are all made in the image of a good and perfect God who is neither impressed by my "victories", nor disgusted at my "losses." so, i am choosing to agree with God on who i am, and who others are. i am going to stop measuring myself against other women, and start measuring myself against who i know God created me to be.
this is going to be really hard because it all happens in my head where there is zero accountability. so, if you see me deep in thought, just slap me right across the face as hard as you can because i am, undoubtedly, comparing myself to someone else. i will gladly do the same for all my sisters out there who are stuck in this same sick trap of comparing ourselves, and our families, and our gifts, and our faults, and so on...
i'll even bet i can slap harder than you can slap.
baby's first spectacular heels.jpg
life done well.
as i have said, i am working on being fabulous. more specifically, i am working on living a fabulous life. and even more specifically than that, i am working on realizing that the life i live is already fabulous, so i am noticing, naming and thanking god for each gift in each moment of my life.
this journey has been a mind-consuming thing. to stop, and notice. first of all, the moments in my house that are quiet, totally focused and still? there have been about four of those moments in the last 7 1/2 years. my life has felt like a whirlwind, especially the motherhood part of my life. it all started with a scandalous break-up, where i called off an engagement to an impressive guy that most women wouldn't dream of walking away from. but, i did and i know it was the best thing for both of us. then in an even more scandalous rebound move, i met my beloved husband, the kind of guy, that NO woman would dream of walking walk away from. so, i didn't walk away (for once in my life) and in one last move of scandal we ended up pregnant before we were married. this is how motherhood began for me. with a lot of unresolved emotional baggage. even during those seemingly "quiet" months of pregnancy, where i didn't have any other children to run around and look after... there was a lot of noise. there was so much noise in my mind. just noise. i started the painstaking process of sifting through my baggage.
i sifted. for years i have sifted the noise of my upbringing; a divorce, a brother's life violently taken, a search for happiness in all the wrong places (and in all the wrong people.) i sifted through the noise of my young adulthood; the regrettable choices, shame, mistakes. i have sifted through beliefs taught to me, beliefs introduced to me by books, professors, the world, oprah and friends. i have sifted through instincts, fears, ideals, and ideologies. i've forgiven some unforgivable things done to me, things i took years to say out loud. and i've sifted all the secrets i've been asked to keep, and those i kept on my own.
even before the actual, physical noise of motherhood, there was this inaudible noise of my mind. it has been such a long, loud life. attempting to be fabulous in my thirties is, for me, much more than looking great and loving life. living a life of gratitude can only happen if i have sifted through enough past garbage to have a moment quiet enough to see what's actually happening right here and now.
so, my silly resolution of fabulousness is actually a deeply spiritual exercise in faith, healing, forgiveness and renewal. i have resolved that as God makes me new each day, that at some point in my thirties He will graciously reveal a creation made new, and so stinkin' fabulous that i will undoubtedly have to write a book.
so, here is a moment of my life. and in it, a thousand gifts, waiting to be noticed and named and appreciated. i see the sunlight dancing on the blonde curls of, marlie, my second born daughter, as she pours herself a goblet of muddy-water tea. she perpetually has one bun-cheek hanging out of her bathing suit. london walks around. she is bow-legged, and she's a little pushy. in her veins, her blood is being pumped at a normal rate and her blood is all her own. the bags of adult blood that were transfused through her body are gone, and what is left is her own healthy blood. her bone marrow is doing it's job. annalee, the eldest and "most likely to be class treasurer," fixes the strap on london's bathing suit, all on her own. harper, my only son and the one who makes my heart simultaneously ache and leap with joy, dumps a pitcher of water on his own head... and then seems startled by the event.
these are all gifts. i name these, and i write them down, and i thank God - out loud - for each of them. i am naming the specifics. i am thankful for the kids, in general, but something is lost in general gratitude. i am specifically thankful. in this moment, though, i am mostly thankful that in my mind, i have sifted out enough clutter to make room for the awareness of 1,000 gifts.
this journey has been a mind-consuming thing. to stop, and notice. first of all, the moments in my house that are quiet, totally focused and still? there have been about four of those moments in the last 7 1/2 years. my life has felt like a whirlwind, especially the motherhood part of my life. it all started with a scandalous break-up, where i called off an engagement to an impressive guy that most women wouldn't dream of walking away from. but, i did and i know it was the best thing for both of us. then in an even more scandalous rebound move, i met my beloved husband, the kind of guy, that NO woman would dream of walking walk away from. so, i didn't walk away (for once in my life) and in one last move of scandal we ended up pregnant before we were married. this is how motherhood began for me. with a lot of unresolved emotional baggage. even during those seemingly "quiet" months of pregnancy, where i didn't have any other children to run around and look after... there was a lot of noise. there was so much noise in my mind. just noise. i started the painstaking process of sifting through my baggage.
i sifted. for years i have sifted the noise of my upbringing; a divorce, a brother's life violently taken, a search for happiness in all the wrong places (and in all the wrong people.) i sifted through the noise of my young adulthood; the regrettable choices, shame, mistakes. i have sifted through beliefs taught to me, beliefs introduced to me by books, professors, the world, oprah and friends. i have sifted through instincts, fears, ideals, and ideologies. i've forgiven some unforgivable things done to me, things i took years to say out loud. and i've sifted all the secrets i've been asked to keep, and those i kept on my own.
even before the actual, physical noise of motherhood, there was this inaudible noise of my mind. it has been such a long, loud life. attempting to be fabulous in my thirties is, for me, much more than looking great and loving life. living a life of gratitude can only happen if i have sifted through enough past garbage to have a moment quiet enough to see what's actually happening right here and now.
so, my silly resolution of fabulousness is actually a deeply spiritual exercise in faith, healing, forgiveness and renewal. i have resolved that as God makes me new each day, that at some point in my thirties He will graciously reveal a creation made new, and so stinkin' fabulous that i will undoubtedly have to write a book.
so, here is a moment of my life. and in it, a thousand gifts, waiting to be noticed and named and appreciated. i see the sunlight dancing on the blonde curls of, marlie, my second born daughter, as she pours herself a goblet of muddy-water tea. she perpetually has one bun-cheek hanging out of her bathing suit. london walks around. she is bow-legged, and she's a little pushy. in her veins, her blood is being pumped at a normal rate and her blood is all her own. the bags of adult blood that were transfused through her body are gone, and what is left is her own healthy blood. her bone marrow is doing it's job. annalee, the eldest and "most likely to be class treasurer," fixes the strap on london's bathing suit, all on her own. harper, my only son and the one who makes my heart simultaneously ache and leap with joy, dumps a pitcher of water on his own head... and then seems startled by the event.
these are all gifts. i name these, and i write them down, and i thank God - out loud - for each of them. i am naming the specifics. i am thankful for the kids, in general, but something is lost in general gratitude. i am specifically thankful. in this moment, though, i am mostly thankful that in my mind, i have sifted out enough clutter to make room for the awareness of 1,000 gifts.
update on London's health
