Gratitude

Daily bread, give us daily bread

Bless our bodies, keep our children fed
Fill our cups, then fill them up again tonight

Wrap us up and warm us through

Tucked away beneath our sturdy roofs
Let us slumber safe from danger's view this time

Or maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
A lesson learned to hunger after You
That a starry sky offers a better view
If no roof is overhead
And if we never taste that bread

Oh, the differences that often are between
Everything we want and what we really need

I currently have this Nichole Nordeman song on repeat. It's quite possibly the most played song on my music player. Because even though it's a concept I can easily teach others, it's one I need reminding of OFTEN. Gratitude. It's more than just accepting where I am. It's more than trusting in the plan that God has for my future. It's being THANKFUL for both, simultaneously. 

So tonight, in the midst of my own hunger and thirst and overwhelming needs and desires, I am thankful. I am thankful not just in spite of them, but because of them: 

I am thankful for the refining work. God is chiseling me into a new person, a better person. 

He is making me more patient. One day at a time. One heartbreak and frustration and inconvenience at a time. He is making me more humble. Every time I get rejected for a job I deemed "beneath" me. Every mistake I make out of arrogance. He is making me more appreciative. One memory after another of what I once had and complained about. Day after day of waiting to get it back again.

I am thankful for grace. That even on my worst day -- the driest pay period, my weakest immune system, the countless sleepless nights, the screaming, the endless piles of to-dos -- that I have more than I ever really needed. That while I see an empty pantry, I've never actually experienced hunger. That while I feel like I'll never recover, I've never actually been in danger of losing my life. I have countless blessings - literally, I cannot count them all. Even enumerating the major ones would be a whole nother blog. I did nothing to deserve what I have. I most certainly don't deserve more, and yet I have more than I truly need.

I am thankful for the trials. The things I listed above are actually things that in themselves convey blessing. Learning how to budget our life on pennies (which would have only happened by force) will reap huge benefits for us when I actually make bank. And as crazy as it seems, I am actually thankful for the sleepless nights because it's extra time I get to snuggle with my baby girl who will be grown and gone before I even realize it (but you know, I wouldn't complain about a couple nights of full rest either). I am thankful that the waiting game I'm in has forced life to slow down. It might seem too slow, but as Ferris would say "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." I am thankful that God is forcing me to take a break from the grind of a demanding career for a couple years and enjoy the family He has blessed me with.

I am thankful that He knows me better. I think God collects our "Plans for Life" lists like I used to collect student work: to laugh at heartily. Not at our ignorance, but at our creative guesses. It's not just my plans for tomorrow, but who I think I am right now. God is bigger than my preconceived notions about myself. He is able to do more through me than I think possible. He is showing me His plan for my life is more intricate than just what I do for a living or how much money I make. That He has a plan for me RIGHT NOW and it may be - nay, it IS - very different than what I imagined. And it's not just good - it's BETTER. and it's not something I have to wait for; I can experience it right now if I just stop fighting to have my way.

I am thankful for redemption. Waiting is hard business for us human folk. A perusal of Hebrews 11 shows us the victories, the happy endings, the Promised Land. But a good reading of the Old Testament reveals that "our heroes of faith" had a hard time waiting and often made many mistakes trying to take matters in their own hand. But inevitably, God got them back on track and redeemed their stories to ultimately bring Him glory. I am grateful that God redeems our brokenness, our impatience, our ignorance and our selfishness. He takes our tears and worries and stress and turns them into joy, peace, serenity. He redeems the foolishness of our own thinking and puts us on the path of righteousness. The story He's telling is a good one and I get to be a part of it, despite my best efforts otherwise.

He redeems our hunger and our thirst. He takes our "list" of needs and desires and shows us, usually one chapter at a time, that He has something else in mind.

And if that's the case

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need

2014 Resolutions

For the past 2 years, I have gone a bit overboard on Resolutions and that's ok. It made sense at the time. But this year, I want to cut back. Instead of 20 items, I'm only going to have 6. And very few are repeats. I have thought A LOT about them (as you'll soon see). With further ado, I give you my 2014 Resolutions.

2014 Resolutions

Project 365 (daily)

Background:

I plan on taking a photo every single day this year. This actually isn't a challenge. I took over 6,000 photos last year. However, I posted only a fraction of them. So part of the goal is to balance that out a bit. Plus, I have tried (and failed) for 2 years in a row to take a photography class, so I removed it from my Resolutions. Whether not I accomplish that this year or not, I hope there will be real improvement from the first photo to the last.

Challenge: First, I'm hoping to focus on ONE photo each day (instead of the hundreds I take of any one event). Second, my goal is to POST that photo. Every day, ideally. I may get behind from time to time, but hopefully not too far.

Thank You Cards (weekly)

Background:

I did this back in 2012, focusing on co-workers. It was amazing how my attitude changed at work. Every day, my thoughts were focused on finding somebody to be thankful for and then reminding myself of that person long enough to actually write the card. It really changed my heart. And it changed the hearts of my coworkers as they were being recognized. It felt special to get a card in their box. Sometimes it was for something that just happened ("thank you for helping me plan that lesson") and sometimes it was an overall appreciation ("thank you for all of the ways you make my life easier, including...") but I tried to be very specific. I left that job in the middle of the year and now I'm a substitute, which makes it hard to focus on coworkers since they change every day and I don't know any of their names. That's not to say I'm not thankful for the strangers who make subbing easier, but I thought it'd be good to expand the list. ALL people are now eligible - not just coworkers. Family, friends, church members, babysitters, mailmen, etc. It really shouldn't be hard to think of 52 people that I should be thankful for. It really helps me be less selfish, complain less and focus on the good. It also spreads joy, which is always a good idea.

Challenge: Write a thank you card (actual card, not text/fb msg, etc) to somebody - ANYBODY - every week with a specific thing I am thankful that they did.

Reach out to a friend (weekly)

Background:
When thinking of Resolutions, I try to focus on areas of my life that really need improvements. Areas where I say "Oh, I'm horrible at that" with regret and disappointment in my voice (as opposed to areas I suck in but couldn't care less about like backgammon). One of those areas that consumes my heart is being a friend. This is something I have struggled with for years. It used to be a self-esteem issue, where I thought I wasn't good enough to be somebody's friend. And that still plagues me a bit. But honestly, as with most things in life, the change I want to see must begin with me. I am the friend who moves away and stops talking to you. Because I only talk to people I see in person. And then I wonder why people don't keep in touch with me. And I don't have to live in a different city to not talk to people. There are plenty of "high-level" friends right here in my hometown that go through major life moments and I'm none-the-wiser. I have used social media as a crutch. "Oh yeah, I'm still friends with her. I read on her Facebook wall that she's now working here and they just went on vacation there" -- that's NOT real friendship or real contact.

Challenge: Making meaningful contact with a friend - whether in person through a "friend date" over coffee, or through a phone call or email - once a week. Unacceptable forms - texting, social media. (Basically, if it takes less than 30 minutes, it doesn't count.)

Goodwill Hunting (monthly)

Background:

I have been challenged to live minimally. This year, I have thought a lot about both gratitude and poverty. We have struggled A LOT financially and as soon as I start to complain, I realize just how selfish I sound: "Oh no, I've had to reduce my data plan on my iPhone" Basically any tweet that could have ended with #firstworldproblems was simply not tweeted. This helped me, especially as the year went on and ends really were hard to meet, to realize what was a true necessity and what wasn't. It also helped me realize how much I really had. It's hard to complain about not having money to buy work clothes and then complain about how messy and out of control my closet is. It just doesn't make sense. And I realize it was those very THINGS that made me broke in the first place. My materialism has gotten out of control and the people it effects the most are my babies who have SO many toys and clothes, that their closets and rooms are overflowing. I need to get rid of the things. I need to learn to live without them. What's more is that somebody else could benefit from them.

Challenge:

Once a month, go through my house and collect all the things - clothes, toys, whatever - that aren't absolutely necessary and give them to Goodwill. Don't just make a box that collects dust next to all the other things that collect dust, but actually drive to Goodwill and drop it off. 

20 Blog Posts

Background:

Alright, this one shows up over and over. And each year, I blog LESS. Here's the thing. It's not about the social-media of it. It's not for page-views and self-validation. It's because I'm a WRITER. All day long, I write. Except I don't. It starts in my head with this wonderfully written prose and then... ends there. When I write, actually put words down on the page, my heart comes out. That's why this blog isn't 140 characters. I am pouring out everything that's been burdening my head for far too long. And it hurts. The words build and build and build and it causes pain to keep them inside. But yet I do, and the words escape and I never find them again.  Thinking gives the words birth and a safe place to grow. But writing saves them, etches them in eternity.

Challenge:

Actually post. 20 times. It doesn't have to be daily, weekly, monthly. In fact, I could stay up all night and write 20 right now and be satisfied (except this one has already taken me like 2 hours... eek!). Because that's 20 blog entries that could stop trying to burrow themselves in my head before they're forgotten and find a permanent home elsewhere. 

10 Home Improvements 

Background:
I've lived in this house for a year and the only pictures on my wall is a photo collage I made 2 years ago. I'm still living out of boxes and the house looks just about every bit the same as it did when I moved in, despite my long, very specific list of all the things I wanted to do in EACH area of the house. Things as simple as "organize hall closet" or "hang wedding photos." There are big things on there like "paint living room" and "redo the walls downstairs." It can be big or small. Cheap or expensive (ok, realistically the majority will have to be very cheap while the expensive ones will be things forced on us, like "buy new dryer"). Whatever. It needs to get done.

Challenge:
I resolve to do at least 10 things to improve the overall look and/or livability of the house. 

September 17

September 17, 2003, 12:01am
It's now officially my 20th birthday and I'm crying. Alone in my car on the side of the street sobbing my eyes out. And the fact that my birthday is starting out so pathetically makes me cry that much more. Seriously, life is not fair.

And thus it began. Not my twenties, although technically that is how my twenties began, but my adventure. The adventure I didn't realize I was about to take.

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You see, I was pathetically crying in my car because I was heartbroken. The boy who made me laugh was about to make somebody else laugh. The friend I shared all my secrets with was going to let somebody else share secrets with him. I was grieved over the loss of the best friendship I had ever had. But I knew it had to end. Guys and girls can't be friends. Precisely because of this reason. I was a fool for thinking he would choose my friendship over a relationship with somebody else.

I thought I was done crying about this boy. The one who broke my heart last year. I had already resigned myself to the fact that we weren't as "meant to be" as I had once hoped. I had spent the entire first year of college convincing myself and others (including him) that we belonged together and decided this year to let it go. Move on. And I did. I found somebody else to infatuate myself with, instead.

Apparently, so did he. Great. Maybe he'll let me go, too. We can let go of this idea we have of each other. Because as long as he thinks something could happen, he'll hold me closer than I need to be held. I value our friendship too much to see it held hostage by the "what if"s.

Before I let him break my heart again, I need to end this. I need to let go, not just of him in the romantic sense, but of the friendship as well. We can't be friends. It's not fair to either one of us.

I dried my eyes with the new resolve and went upstairs to sleep.
I went about the next day as normally as a 20th birthday can be. Phone calls and special attention. I loved it. Even though Facebook was currently being created and texting wasn't yet readily available, I still felt special and honored. My friends and I had planned a trip down to Lambert's for some thrown-roll, free-birthday-meal action. The boy came too, but before we went, I told him that we needed to talk later that night. He replied, "Yeah, there's something I want to talk to you about too."

Ugh, so it's true. He IS going to ask her out. I suppose it's nice he's at least telling me about it beforehand. But that's what friends do, right? Oh, what am I doing? I need to end this. I can't stand the idea of being this close with a guy who will never again choose me first. His girlfriend will always be his first choice, his confidant, the one he seeks to make laugh.

Dinner was fun. We rode in separate cars. I chose the car with the guy I had a crush on, because even though I was sure nothing was ever going to come of it, it was nice to think about somebody else for a change. I went home and starting crying again before I could prepare myself to make the phone call.

I summoned the courage and dialed.

"Ok, here's the deal. We can't be friends anymore. You're going to date somebody and eventually I'll date somebody and it's not fair to them and it's not fair to us. I can't stand the idea of sharing our friendship with anybody. I know it'll just end in pain, so I just have to end it now. I'm sorry."

Dead silence.

"Are you there? I'm sorry. It just hurts me so much. Your friendship has meant so much to me. You've gotten me through so much, but I just, I just can't. I'm sorry."

Nervous laughter.

Finally, he replied, "Umm... well, it's just that. Ahem. I'm sorry you feel that way. I, um. Well, okay. I actually called to tell you that I... I actually want to be more than friends. I completely understand where you are coming from and I will honor your feelings if that's what you really want but. I like you. I really like you. And I really want to ask you out..."

Dead silence again.

The boy liked me? All that time, all that heartache? and he LIKED me?

"Wait, ME? You were supposed to ask somebody else out. You told me you had a crush on her and our friend told me you were going to ask her out..."

"You could tell I had feelings for somebody but I was too nervous to admit it was you. I lied and told you it was somebody else. And our friends are terrible about spreading rumors, because the person I wanted to ask out is you. But I haven't been able to. You make me so nervous. I like you so much."

I honestly was too flabbergasted to even answer him. I had given up on him. I had poured so much of myself into liking him and subsequently getting over him that I couldn't go back. I had resolved not to get hurt again.

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Eventually, I was convinced that he wasn't going to hurt me. That this was it for us. It had to be it for us. If it didn't work, there was no second chance. My heart wouldn't allow it.

And so, my 20th birthday was the last time I felt that kind of heartache. Life has thrown many things at me since then that have broken my heart, but I've never again felt the despair of losing my best friend. He has always been there to help me through The Times of Broken Hearts.

I'm grateful every day for the boy I cried over on my 20th birthday. But I'm even more grateful for the man I cried to throughout my 20s. The man I married and had 2 children with. The man who chooses every day to be my best friend. He's been my compadre, my partner-in-crime, my tour-guide through adventure.

It's been the best 10 years of my life. Happy September 17th.

Dear twenty-something self

                Thank you. You have inspired me in more ways than I can even count. You made friendships so deep, they’ll never die. You chose selflessness and realized it was love. You bravely embraced new challenges like moving away from family. You sought out ways to learn and grow. You never gave up on your calling, even when it resulted in tears. You set goals and worked hard to meet them. You worked hard to discover what God meant when He said to love Him and love others.

                Thank you. You made memories that I can never forget. You went places I never thought I’d get to go. You laughed about silly things. You had dance parties and karaoke parties and TV show parties. You made cakes and cookies and koolaid just to have something to share with others. You took way too many pictures in an effort to capture every second. You went to weddings and graduations and delighted with your friends. You went on family vacations so epic, you’ll talk about them for years. You went to state fairs and zoos and baseball games and concerts.

                Thank you. You extended my family. You said yes to the boy who made you laugh. You chose to love him every day even when he drove you C.R.A.Z.Y. You prayed for him. You encouraged him when he just wanted to give up. You bought Yoda presents and listened to sports talk radio. You went on adventures together simply because you could. You brought home a stray cat. You chose to raise a family. You read every parenting book and blog. You simultaneously cut back on caffeine and sleep. You gave birth to a baby girl and stressed every day about doing it right. You played peek-a-boo and changed diapers and decided to do it all over again. You put your toddler on your burgeoning belly in order to maintain your bedtime routine of reading stories together. You gave birth to another girl and showed me what it means to expand your heart.

                Thank you. You chose life. Every day, you chose abundant life. You went on crazy adventures and followed your dreams. You made me grateful for my youth, my health, and my relative wealth. Your tenacious hold on living life to the fullest made me realize that age is just a way to measure the memories. You made me excited to enter the next phase. I am forever in your debt.

                Thank you, and goodbye. It was really nice to know you. I hope my thirty-something self is just as awesome.

Here we go again

In the late evening hours of April 5, my 2nd daughter made her debut in this world. She was a healthy weight and height and the birth itself was healthy and, might I say, relatively easy. But the 36 hours leading up to that moment made me think that perhaps it was not going to end up that way.

The previous Friday, I went in for my weekly check-up. Everything was good - my weight, my blood pressure, etc. Baby's heartbeat was healthy. Just for good measure, the doc decided to bring in a portable ultrasound machine and confirmed that baby was head down, right where she needed to be. Since baby wasn't particularly making any indication of an immediate arrival, my doctor said to schedule an official ultrasound at my next appointment.

So I came back on Thursday, April 4 for the ultrasound. It was 2 days before my due date and they just wanted to make sure baby was still healthy. And she was. She was estimated to be a whopping 9 pounds, 1 ounce. We didn't freak out too much at this because our firstborn was estimated at 9.5 lbs at her ultrasound and a follow up one the next week even said 10 lbs but when she was born 2 days later, she was only 8 lbs and 4 oz. But they got that estimate based on her head circumference which was proportionally the head of a 10 lb baby. (My in-laws have big heads!) However, I did notice that this technician took multiple measurements in addition to the head circumference, like length of the femur or something and the average of those measurements estimated my baby girl at 9lb 1oz.

But that wasn't the scariest part of the appointment. The very first thing the technician pointed out (because honestly I have no idea what's on those screens until they point it out) was that my daughter was now completely turned upside down. Well, I guess I should say downside up cause upside down would have been ideal. Instead of her head being down like it was supposed to be (and like it was the previous week), it was now UP near my chest. She was basically sitting up. I had heard the term "breech" enough to know this is not good.

We took this information upstairs to my doctor and found out just how NOT good this was. Basically the complications of giving birth to a baby in this position are so severe that doctors do not even attempt it if they are aware of it (which now my doctor was). She even did another portable ultrasound just to make sure that baby's head was in fact up because she just couldn't believe she had turned so quickly. Usually, babies turn breech when there's plenty of room to do so. It's unusual for a baby who was in the right position to turn breech after week 37 or so simply because they do not have the room to perform such gymnastics. So doctors have time to try various techniques to get the baby to move back. But my due date was in 2 days and my baby was estimated at 9lbs. She was too big and there just simply wasn't the space to try to move her. So given the high risk of complications and the low chance of her moving into a healthy position, the doctor convinced us that having a C section was the best option. We talked in her office for a long time about all the pros and cons and what to expect and then left her office with an appointment for a scheduled C section the next day.

We then met some friends for a park date where I got to enjoy time with my toddler as well as talk through the decision we had just made. Then I went home and attacked all the things still left on my pre-baby to-do list while also looking up everything I could about C sections. I even called a friend who had 2 of them and asked her to talk me through the process. By the time I went in the next morning, I was well informed and completely on board. Frankly, I was kind of looking forward to knowing that by the afternoon, I'd have a baby in my arms and I wouldn't have to spend my day dealing with contractions and all that.

To appease me the day before, the doctor told me she would make sure they gave me a "scan" (another quick ultrasound) to make sure baby was still breech. Since she had most likely flipped to breech Wednesday night, there was a small chance she'd flip back Thursday night. So after I got all prepped for surgery, they decided to humor me with a quick scan. Shockingly, that crazy rascal had turned upside down again. The OB in the room couldn't believe it. We couldn't believe it! She called my doctor who came down (her office is on 6th floor, L&D was on 3rd) right away because she couldn't believe it either.

Taking into account my daughter's proclivity for gymnastics and the fact that I was already in a hospital gown and everything, we decided the best plan at that point was to induce pregnancy and get that baby out before she did another 180. All that work preparing for a C section and now I had to mentally prepare to actually give birth. At least now I get a little bit of food because I was STARVING. I was told not to eat 12 hrs prior to surgery but now I'm supposed to run a marathon?? Yeah, I'll take some jello, please. Make it two.

So at 11:30 on Friday morning, I officially started the labor process. I was already dilated to 3 and was having contractions, so they were hoping it could get done before my doctor left for the day. But several cups of jello later, I was still there, with no end in sight, when both my doctor and my nurse clocked out. At some point in the afternoon, I got the beautiful epidural by the best doctor I've ever met in my life so I really didn't care about much. By dinner time (for everybody else, of course, unless you count chicken broth as a meal), my toddler even came up to see me. Except apparently she didn't get the memo that she was there to see me. She was too distracted by the presence of 5 of her grandparents and all the crazy machinery in the room to even notice her mom. Besides, what was so special about mom being in bed?

But after she left, I started feeling some pressure. I told the nurse and everybody left the room. The nurse checked it out and sure enough, baby was ready. She contacted the on-call doctor who was there within 20 minutes. I had met this doctor before at a random check-up and she seemed nice enough. But she came in on this Friday night jazzed up, talking a million words a minute about who knows what and getting dressed just as quickly. The room immediately transformed into a delivery room and just a few pushes later, my baby was born at 8:33pm. The quickness of my delivery combined with the gymnastics had caused the umbilical cord to be loosely wrapped around her neck. The nurses immediately took care of her and it wasn't too long before I heard that beautiful scream.

Of course, the sequence of events following that are a bit of a blur and frankly the only people who care about them are women who are about to give birth. Basically, there was a weight check (9lbs exactly) and various other tests on baby while I lay in bed recuperating. Eventually we got to meet and the first thing I remember was just how much she looked like her sister, which, if you recall, means she was absolutely beautiful. By the time grandparents came in later, I was for sure exhausted. But more than anything else, I was HUNGRY. Seriously, why can't a burger be brought up as soon as the doctor says "It's a girl!"?? It was easily 11pm before I got that burger and I'm pretty sure it was the best thing I ever ate in my life.

I spent the next couple days in the hospital and everything was great. Visitors came and went. And it turns out it wasn't just the high of delivery and the lack of food for 24 hrs that made the burger good - everything they made was delicious. They also make a black bean and chipotle burger that I'm considering getting when I go back for my 6wk check-up. I had made a goodie box for the nurses with granola bars and candy. Only a few took me up on the offer, but offering it made me feel better when I then asked them to bring me things like more medicine and juice, even though I know it's their job. Also, random fact - each nurse in the postpartum wing progressively got 10 years older than the previous nurse. The first one we met around 1am Saturday morning was maybe 30, then the next one around 40, etc. It's a good thing we checked out when we did Sunday afternoon because we were afraid of who we would get next.

When we got home Sunday, our family dropped our toddler off (and looked extremely happy to do so), who immediately took to her little sister. She had met her a couple times in the hospital, but it was chaotic and she really wasn't focused. She loved her sister and wanted to take care of her, but we could tell she was misplacing her emotions when she threw a fit that her food was touching her plate wrong. A good night's sleep in her own bed took care of that.

I know how incredibly blessed I am. Even with the scare of a C section (which is a totally normal and safe option, by the way), I had faith in my doctor,the hospital and modern medicine. I knew Iwould have a healthy baby one way or the other. And I already had a healthy happy toddler at home who has blessed me immensely.

Baby snuggles and toddler giggles are not things to take for granted. I am blessed.

The Teresa Yakel Guide to Making (and Keeping) Resolutions

*BIG PICTURE
Think about long-term goals you have set or items you have on your bucket list. For instance, I’d like to see a game in every MLB stadium, so each year my resolution is to cross off 1 new stadium from the list. This is a great place to start when thinking of Resolutions.

*WHOLE-SELF-IMPROVEMENT
Most resolutions are made in an effort to make the resolver better in some way, usually physically. But think beyond just weight loss and diet: What fears do you want to overcome? Resolve to lead a meeting at work to overcome a fear of speaking in public. Is there a skill you want to develop further? Take a class/workshop. Do you tend to resent the predictability of life? Try something new this year.
As you create your resolutions, think of the whole person. How can you improve your life mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally, financially, socially? Think of ALL of these areas when creating your list.

*GET REAL
Set reasonable and attainable goals. For instance, while I’d love to travel to 5 new places this year (a previous New Year’s resolution), it’s just not going to happen in 2013 if I also plan on having a baby in April (which I do). Don’t set yourself up for failure by reaching beyond your means. Losing 20 pounds in a year is reasonable for most people; losing 200 probably isn’t. If you want to see all 50 States or lose 200lbs, break down the big goal into something you can actually accomplish this year. Also, don’t resolve to do something that is out of your control. For instance, I never put on my Resolution List “get pregnant” because I know that ultimately I cannot control that and having it on my list would only make me more depressed when December came and it just didn’t happen for me that year.

*SELF-REWARDING
Make the resolution the reward. Do you enjoy going to the movies, concerts, the zoo, etc but can’t ever seem to make it happen? Put it on the list. Have you always wanted to try that restaurant by your work? Put it on the list. Resolutions should be things you actually want to do. Make them fun.

*THE MORE THE MERRIER
By now, you may have figured out that I have more than one item on my list. This year my list includes 13 things I’d like to do by the end of the year. While that may be unrealistic for most (see aforementioned point), setting multiple goals is actually more motivating than having just 1. If you put something small, simple and fun as one of your items (“Try New Restaurant”), accomplishing it will give you enough satisfaction to motivate you to do something a little harder (“Go Skydiving”). Start with 3 Resolutions of varying degrees of difficulty. Even if you only do 1 of the 3, you still did something you resolved to do and the confidence of completing a resolution will propel you to do 2 next year and so on.

*BEEEE SPECIFIC
“Be a Better Friend” is a great aspiration. However, it’s hard to measure. What ways do you want to be a better friend? I’m horrible at correspondence so I resolved to send 10 greeting cards in the mail this year (I only did 3 but those 3 appreciated it!). Another person may want to resolve to have a “Girls’ Nights” once a month to make sure they spend time with their friends.
You want to “Read More”? How much more? 5 books a year? 20 books a year? Be specific. Is there a genre you want to read more often? Put that in your resolution: Read 5 Biographies. That’s certainly more measurable than “Read More”.

*ACCOUNTABILITY
Don’t try going it alone. Tell somebody your resolutions. You don’t have to post it on Facebook or anything, but you do need to share it with somebody. Accountability is one of the most underrated tools in our arsenal. You may even want to incorporate people into the actual resolutions. You want to exercise more? Find somebody at the same interest and ability level as you to join at the gym. Maybe your sister wants to take that cooking class with you.
You should also consider ways to keep yourself accountable. Set up email reminders or text alerts. Find an app for your smart phone. For example, YouVersion is great if you want to read the Bible more. They send email reminders, have Bible reading plans and provide statistical feedback about your progress.

*START/RESTART WHENEVER
January 1 is great because it signifies newness. But every day is a new day. So what if you don’t have a list together at midnight? If March rolls around and you realize you want to learn a new language, then start in March. Don’t wait until January 2014.
When June comes around and you come across your dusty list, reevaluate if those things are still important to you and start right then. You failed by February? Try again.
Guilt has amazing ways of keeping us from accomplishing our goals. Don’t let it stop you just because you got a late start or skipped a month. Guilt will convince you the only time to start is January 1 and that you must be perfect or it’s not worth even trying. You only crocheted half the afghan? That’s half more than you made last year and a great start for next year’s afghan. Don’t quit.

For reference, see my 2012 and 2013 Resolutions.

 

Thirteen for 13

2013 Resolutions

*See 1 new MLB Stadium before 30^th birthday (for a total of 10)

*Perform a script on stage at least once

*Sing in front of a crowd at least once

*Walk a 5k

*Take at least one class for Personal Development (e.g. photography), Professional Development (other than those required by job) and Spiritual Development (e.g. Bible Study)

*Attend 5 extracurricular events of the youth at Fee Fee

*Attend 10 Fee Fee youth events (at least 1 overnight)

*Read 10 books

*Try 12 new Pinterest ideas

*Try at least 1 new restaurant each month

*Go to the movies at least once each month

*Have a Mommy/Daughter date with each of my children at least once a month

*Do a Random Act of Kindness at least once a month


If you need help creating your own resolutions, see my guide.
Best of luck!

 

twenty dozen

Since people have referred to 2012 as “twenty-dozen” I thought I’d use that as inspiration for my resolutions. So I came up with 240 (20*12) things I wanted to make sure happen this year:


2012 Resolutions


-Take a photography class


-See at least 1 new MLB stadium


-Perform a script on stage at least once


-Get my hair cut at least 3 times


-Buy 5 new CDs


-Walk a 5k


-Attend at least 5 extra-curricular events at my school (dance, concert)


-Attend at least 10 youth events (at least 1 overnight)


-Complete 10 photo projects (at least 5 new ones I’ve not done before)


-Go 10 places I’ve never been before


-Send a dozen greeting cards in the mail to family/friends


-Have an entire day with no plans at least once a month


-Go to the movies at least once a month


-Update photos on Facebook at least once a month


-Write at least 20 blog posts


-Read 20 books (at least 5 nonfiction)


-Memorize 20 Scripture verses


-Finish 20 You Version Bible mini-plans


-Eliminate 25% of our debt


-Write a thank you note to a coworker once a week during the school year (36)



I finalized the list this morning during (I mean, after, of course) the Sermon titled “A Plan to be Spiritually Fit in 2012.” Only a few of the things have to do specifically with the things our pastor suggested (reading the Bible, serving in our church, etc), but they will all in some way help me grow in my faith.

My life motto for the past few years has been based on John 10:10 “I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” Jesus doesn’t want us to live passively; He wants us to live passionately. There are desires He has given me in my heart that if I don’t actively pursue, I am not honoring Him and His calling for me. Taking photos, performing on stage, writing, reading, building relationships - these are things that if I don’t make a plan to do, they won’t get done. When they don’t happen, there’s an empty part of me that longs to be fulfilled. When we allow ourselves to get bogged down by the things in life that don’t edify us in any way, we are allowing “the thief” to come and destroy (the first part of John 10:10) our soul, robbing it of what it needs to Thrive.

You may not need to write out 20 items totaling 240 (only weird Type-A people thrive from a big to-do list), but I want to challenge you to think of ways you can live out John 10:10 this year. What has God placed in your heart? What plan do you need to put in place to pursue those? Are there things in your life that are robbing you of joy and satisfaction? How can 2012 be the year you set those aside and persevere to accomplish your heart’s desires (Hebrews 12:1)?

Let's Start at the Very Beginning - Part 3

Read these first: [Part One] and [Part Two]


The Birth Story – Elation

So far, my story has been kind of mundane. I had been at the hospital for about 22 hours and had been asleep for easily more than half of the time. I’m glad my husband’s parents were there to keep him entertained, because I honestly didn’t even know if he was in the room or not. But by 4:00 pm on Wednesday, things were getting interesting.

The Pitocin was doing its job and my OB/GYN was pleased with my progress so far. As mentioned previously, my baby was estimated to be 10 pounds and my body had to be convinced that labor was a good thing. The doctor had warned me that if at any point my body wasn’t making progress, he would strongly recommend a C-section. He knew that thought scared me but he also knew I trusted him (he did come very highly recommended from several people) to make the right decision for the health of my baby.

So when he came in my room at 4, and decided I was ready to start pushing, I couldn’t believe it. First of all, that meant the napping was going to end. It also meant there was going to be a baby soon. Before the nurses could come back to get everything set up, I had re-applied my make-up and said “See Ya” to the in-laws. It was GO time.

THIS IS IT!! Any minute now! Isn’t that how it works? The doctor says push, you push and a baby comes out. This won’t take long. Okay, maybe a couple of pushes, but surely not longer than 10 minutes right? Maybe 20? I can do 20 minutes of strenuous exercise. Just this once. It’s for a good cause.

They turned down my epidural so I could be aware of the contractions. I still didn’t feel any pain, thank goodness, but I definitely felt the contractions and before too long, I figured out when to push without the nurses having to tell me. Before too long, I was getting the hang of it. Any minute now, and we’ll have a baby. Right?

Ok, so I’m not exactly one who believes everything she sees on TV, but without any other frame of reference, I really didn’t anticipate it taking this long. I honestly had no idea what to expect. I didn’t even realize I was pushing wrong for like the first hour until my doctor scolded me for not really meaning it. This is the part of the story where I stopped having fun and started getting discouraged. I was frustrated and EXHAUSTED. Why isn’t my baby here yet? The nurses tell me I’m doing great, but am I?

At 4, he was proud of my progress. At 4:30, he was patient. At 5, he was disappointed. By 5:30, he threatened C-section. Now I was really upset. Fortunately, the nurse I had this whole time was really nice, understanding and encouraging. She had a friendly personality and made me feel better. But right as the doc threw down the ultimatum (progress or surgery), another nurse stepped in. She was high on delivery, since she had just gotten done delivering a baby next door (all the women on my hall went into labor at the same time). She also must have been high on a cocktail of things because she instantly infused enthusiasm into the whole room. She refused to accept C-section as an answer and she refused to let me give up on myself. She had the energy of a cheerleader at a Homecoming Pep Rally and treated the whole affair with as much gusto. We were having this baby and we were having her NOW! LET’S GO! LET’S GO! L-E-T-S. G-O. Rah-Rah-Shish-Koom-Bah! GOOOO BABY!!!

She gave me just what I needed. Suddenly, my humor was back and my spirits were up. I could totally do this. I will show that doctor. And I did. When he came in, instead of prepping for surgery, he immediately prepped for delivery. It’s go time.

Before I knew it, the room was full of every sort of nurse. At the touch of a button, lights had dropped from the ceiling and machines came out of closets. It was like the BatCave or something. I was so distracted, I wasn’t even thinking about what I was doing. I was just pushing. The combination of Cheer-Nurse and the Magic Lights gave me energy I never knew I had. I pushed like I never pushed before. And suddenly, the doctor told me NOT to push.

The moment was here. All in a whirlwind of a second, My Baby was here. She was so incredibly beautiful. She was beautiful. So beautiful. That’s all I could think. She was healthy and beautiful and HERE. And now, in my arms. I’m holding my baby. My. Baby. And she was beautiful.

I cried. I’m not much of a crier. But I cried. I had been working so hard and I was so tired and exhausted and oh my goodness, she’s here. She’s in my arms. And I cried. And I held her and cried. Then they took her and weighed her (8 lbs, 4 oz) and I cried. It wasn’t a silent, single-tear-rolling-down-the-cheek cry. It was a body shaking, sobbing, snot-inducing tear-fest. She was here. And did I mention, she was beautiful?

The next couple days were filled with overwhelming joy and confusion and ignorance and confidence and trust and worry and annoyance and friendship and lots of photos and visitors and nurses and tests and pain and medicine. I actually could tell you soooo much more about the after-party than the pre-show, but people aren’t as interested in that part. But they should be. A lot happens then that I didn’t know to expect. So if you’re about to go in for labor, please ask. I’d love to talk about it.

If I could just leave you with one piece of advice, and this is for all patients, not just post-delivery – don’t let a nurse intern do anything to you unless you have anesthesia and don’t get a catheter unless you have anesthesia and whatever you do, certainly don’t let BOTH of those happen if you can even remotely feel pain. Because she WILL mess up and you WILL feel it and for the 2nd time in 24 hours, you will cry. But this time, it’ll be pound-your-fist, close-your-eyes and scream-to-God that the pain will stop – oh, God, why won’t the pain stop – kind of tears and you’ll make the poor student feel bad.

Fortunately, though, as truisms go, what they say about forgetting the pain is accurate. I have the emotional memory of knowing something painful happened those few days in the hospital, but I don’t have the physical memory. And more strongly than the pain, I remember the joy. The absolute ELATION of the moment she appeared in this world. The moment I held her in my arms. The first time I nursed. The first bath. Just holding her. Watching others hold her. Just looking at her. Absolute ELATION.

I know the feeling by heart because it’s a familiar one. The pain went away. Not as quickly as I wanted, but it did. And people took care of me the whole time. Even at home. My church family and my real family loved on me. And the pain went away. The elation? I feel it all the time. Every time I hold her. When I look at her. Now, I get to add to it all the new things she does. When she smiles, when she laughs, when she recognizes my voice and turns to see me with joy in her eyes? ELATION.

Let's Start at the Very Beginning - Part 2

[Part One]

The Birth Story – Getting Situated

On Tuesday, March 1, I went to the hospital at the pre-appointed time. The bags had been ready for days, the nails were freshly painted and the anticipation couldn’t be higher. We knew exactly where to go from the tour we took a month earlier. When we gave the nurses our information, they actually told us come back in an hour. So we went to Sonic and I was forced to decide what color drink I may or may not puke up later. I decided on purplish pink (grape watermelon). It was a gorgeous day, so we walked around the parking lot with our Sonic drinks talking about all things we were looking forward to doing with our baby girl.

By 6 o’clock, they had a room ready for us so we got settled in. It was very spacious. It had a couch, a couple comfy chairs and a nice view. I felt very comfortable already. It wasn’t long before we met our first nurse who got everything set up. Gown on, monitors set. Very anti-climactic. Except for the part where they let an intern set-up my IV. It didn’t bother me as much as it should have (you’ll see).

The first step in the inducement process is what the call Cervadil and the main goal is just to “encourage” my body to start labor on its own. So my first 10 hours in the hospital were spent waiting for something to happen. Fortunately, they gave me sleeping medicine and left me alone. Who goes to the hospital to give birth and gets a full night’s sleep? Yeah, I wasn’t going to question it. I accepted it and fell asleep.

The side effect of the Cervadil was mild cramping, so when I woke up around 4am with bad cramps, I just ignored it and tried to go back to sleep. It didn’t work particularly well, so by the time the nurse came in at 6am, I was wide awake and fully convinced I was feeling more than cramps. Pleased with the progress my body was making, we went forward with the induction plan (as opposed to scrapping the whole thing for a C-section as threatened by doc if things didn’t progress). The nurse, who wasn’t as nurturing as my first nurse, administered the Pitocin.

For those who aren’t familiar with Pitocin, it REALLY encourages the body to go into labor as QUICKLY as possible. Before I knew it, those “cramps” I had been feeling were officially contractions and they were officially painful. The Lamaze class had engrained the concept of distraction, so I gathered up my cords, moved to the birthing ball, propped the laptop on a table and watched the very hilarious but unfortunately not distracting enough, Zoolander. My hubster knew the contractions were bad when I winced in the middle of Derek counting syllables on his hand instead of laughed. It was time for the epidural.

After 6 hours of contractions that were only 2 minutes apart, I was more than ready for some relief. Eventually, the anesthesiologist came and with him, glorious relief, well, of course after one more burst of pain.

Getting the epidural was more painful than any contraction I had felt, but suddenly, I felt no more pain at all. I felt nothing at all. I didn’t even care when another nursing student administered my catheter. I didn’t care about anything. I just wanted to sleep. So I did. For the next 6 hours. I stirred when the nurses checked the monitors and rolled over when they said. I feigned conversation with my husband his parents. I even occasionally updated my facebook and texted my coworkers. But mostly, I slept. Glorious, wonderful, pain-free, sleep.

[Part Three]

Let's Start at the Very Beginning - Part 1

Before I head back to work, I thought it would be appropriate to reminisce on the event over 5 months ago that more or less "caused" me to be off work in the first place. I promise this will not be too-TMI. After all, you need to know what some of the words/phrases even mean in order to be grossed out by them and if you do, chances are you won't be. Without any further ado:

The Birth Story - Anticipation

Let's start on Thursday, February 24 - 4 days before my due date. Despite my doc's previous statement that we could go a week or more past due date without any worry, the tone of this appointment was a little less assuring. He had us come in for an ultrasound to see how baby was doing. Turns out, she was doing GREAT. As an early indication of Little Miss Piggy’s ability to gain weight, the ultrasound estimated her to be over 9 lbs. Meanwhile, my body wasn’t particularly giving any indication that it was ready to give birth any time soon. The doctor wanted me to come back in on Monday morning for another ultrasound and he went ahead and scheduled my check-in at the hospital for Tuesday afternoon.

The combination of those appointments made it virtually impossible for me to try to get any work done the next week. The workaholic in me was now in a full-out panic. I went back to work in freak-out mode and frantically sent out a series of emails. Fortunately, the lessons had already been planned, copies were already made and arrangements all made. But now, there’s an actual end date. I was in such a tizzy that I completely forgot my principal was coming that day to finish my annual evaluation! Good thing I work best under pressure!

So I said my goodbyes, finished packing up my personal belongings (including whatever food was left in my mini-fridge) and locked up my classroom for the last time. Walking away from my classroom with 1/3 of the year left was quite possibly the hardest thing I had to do at that point in my life. I told myself not to worry and spent the rest of the weekend doing all the “pre-baby” things I still had left on my list, including inviting friends over to watch the Oscars.

When I went in Monday, February 28, my due date, I delighted at getting to see all the ultrasound images again. However, I cringed when the technician revealed a new estimated weight – TEN POUNDS. Now I know full well that ultrasound estimates are just that, estimates. On average, they could be off by a pound or so. But even taking that into account, I knew 2 things – Baby Girl was BIG and she was growing by the minute. I also knew, confirmed by my doctor, that my body was not ready to give birth, even to a 2 lb baby. Nothing was happening.

The doctor explained to me my options: go 100% natural and risk shoulder dysplasia, a serious risk to baby; be induced Tuesday afternoon as scheduled and hope the body kicks in, but still risk shoulder dysplasia if it doesn’t; or schedule a C-section for either that day or the next morning and just be done with it. Honestly, the idea of a C-section really freaked me out, even though I knew of many successful ones and no unsuccessful ones. I decided to go forward with the original plan (inducement) and after one last bubble bath, I felt much better about my decision.

One way or the other, I was going to have a baby. She was going to be healthy. She was going to be beautiful. I was going to love her. That's all that mattered.

[Part Two] [Part Three]

Bloggin it Up

In an effort to get the blogs out of my head/off a Word doc, I'm mass posting. The following were actually written way back in May but I'm just now getting around to posting them all. Once posted, hopefully I'll be able to write and post the ones I've thought of since then. One day, I'll catch up (isn't that the new-mother mantra??)

You Live, You Learn/Maternity Leave
Affirming my Calling/Those Who Love Teaching, Teach

I Don't Like Splenda/Learning to Let Go

It’s the Good Advice That You Just Didn’t Take
Poop Stinks, and So Does Advice Saying Otherwise/"Just Wait" Until I Give Advice That's Actually Helpful

Not Sleeping when the Baby Sleeps/Brandon Walsh is a Dreamhunk

Conflicting Advice/Momma Knows Best


All By Myself, Don’t Want to Be All By Myself
What, Do I Smell or Something?/Don’t Be a Stranger

My Husband is a Rockstar/How Do Single Mothers Do It??

I Love All My Children the Same/Kitties Need Love Too

Babies Everywhere!/Jealously Doesn't Look Good on Me


These are the Days of Our Lives
The One Thing I Wouldn’t Change/Starting the Day with a Smile

Stuck in a Moment I Can't Get Out Of/Don't Wake Baby!

Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You/Life is a Classroom


Happy Reading. I tried to make these posts as short as possible, since I unloaded a whole bunch at once. I say this so you are warned not to get used to the brevity. ;)

Please feel free to post comments on any/all posts you read, no matter how long ago I wrote it.

I Don't Like Splenda/Learning to Let Go

I will be the first to admit I have control issues. “If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.” Fortunately, I’m also smart enough to know the best leaders know how to delegate and not micromanage every detail. Because the thing is, I can’t possibly be in two places at once. I have to choose to let somebody else take care of my students or let somebody else take care of my baby. Up until this moment in time, I wasn’t comfortable with either choice but I knew that My Sweet Baby needed me waaaaay more than my 6th graders did.
So I stayed home for the full 12 weeks (actually 13 with Spring Break – holla!) and tried as much as I could to keep tabs on my classroom. Let me tell you – it was REALLY hard to try to manage lessons, grades, parent contact, etc from home. I videotaped presentations, entered grades online and personally hand-delivered detailed lessons for each day of the first two major units/months. I learned very quickly that even with the fullest extent of micro-managing, NOBODY can ever be Mrs. Y and I need to just Let Go and concentrate on what really matters: Nobody can ever be Mommy either.
Who cares if on my first day back in my classroom, I find my whiteboard covered in messages about how much they love the sub and hear students repeatedly say “Well, the sub let us…” (which clearly explains the adoration). I will never be comfortable leaving any of my babies in the hands of others, but perhaps it’ll at least be easier the next time around. Or perhaps next time around, I’ll leave my students in the hands of an evil dictator.

The One Thing I Wouldn’t Change/Starting the Day with a Smile

The tritest thing I've heard is that babies change everything. It's probably one of the #1 things people say because, well, it's true. They do. And I knew it would be true, but I didn't know to what extent. I knew it would expand my capacity for love. I'd naturally become a little more selfless, compassionate and patient. These things I expected. I did not expect, however, that I would have to become a morning person. Especially because for the first few weeks, she just slept all day. Then, when she did increase her wake time, it was in the afternoon. It was several weeks in before she started the 6am wake-up routine. Sometimes it's as early as 5 when she cries for breakfast and I begrudgingly drag myself to the crib and just pray she'll sleep-eat and I'll get a couple more hours. But there is no doubt about my day beginning when I look in that crib and see that gorgeous smile that just screams "Good morning Mommy!!" It's [almost] enough to make me completely forget how exhausted I am. It really is a remarkable smile - it might be the best one she gives all day. I think God gives her the smile as His way of cushioning the blow to my circadian rhythm.

Stuck in a Moment I Can't Get Out Of/Don't Wake Baby!

As of writing this in May, Baby Girl hasn't quite reached the stage yet where she is okay napping on her own. She needs to be cuddled the whole time or she'll wake up. She's gradually getting better and better and I've been able to risk setting her down for the sake of doing something else relaxing (see "Not Sleeping"). However, on the days (which are very often) when she goes down with a fight, there is not a single thing I will do to risk waking that child back up. I will go hungry, thirsty, bored. I will risk ruining my bladder by holding it before I'll risk ruining nap time. I will not move a muscle. There have been times when my water bottle is within sight but not reach and I just have to stare at it until either Sleeping Beauty wakes naturally or my husband comes home. It might seem drastic, but anytime I think "nah, she'll be fine" she instantly wakes up and throws a fit. My whole day is now shot because I reached for the remote.
This is where my iPhone comes in. With one small device in my hand, I can email, check facebook, take and post photos, play word games, read CNN, listen to music (often lullabies to keep baby asleep), read parenting advice (see "Conflicting Advice"), text Andrew to tell him how thirsty I am and can he plleeeeeasse hurry up, or get on IMDB to figure out who that guest star is on BH 90210 (It was a teenage Jessica Alba today!).

Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You/Life is a Classroom

The day I returned from maternity leave, a student asked me how I enjoyed my "break" and I just laughed. I worked harder during those 12 weeks than I ever have before. My #1 job: stop the tears. To stop the tears, I have to figure out what's causing them. To do that, I need to get to know Crazy Baby's cues, patterns, needs, etc. That requires intense round-the-clock studying. I can now tell (with 75% certainty) what she needs by what type of cry she has - which was impossible for me to determine the first few weeks. I know the secret combo of swaddling-shushing-swaying she needs to fall asleep without a single cry, which also took a very long time to perfect and still doesn't work nearly enough of the time (like right now... seriously, just fall asleep already!!). I didn't know any of this when I took her home, and I still didn't know it when my first 6 weeks were up. My lessons were not complete. They're still not, but I feel like I've learned enough to teach others so they can watch her while I'm at work. I know I'm going to spend the rest of my life getting to know her and I'm also confident that there is nobody on this planet who knows her better than her own mother.

Babies Everywhere!/Jealously Doesn't Look Good on Me

Seriously, it seems like everybody around my age had a baby in the past year, or is about to have one. I swear, there are going to be a bunch of toddlers running around at my high-school reunion next year. Every other post on my Facebook news feed is about some newborn sleeping through the night at 3 weeks, or moms losing all the baby weight before even coming home from the hospital. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to defriend every new mother I know because I hate the temptation to compare my daughter's every movement to their perfect child, or even worse, to swell with pride at their imperfections. But I don't, and I won't, because once the jealousy subsides, I'm going to need their advice. Where can I find a great deal on diapers? How do you like your carseat? And for the love of God, how can I get her to sleep through the night!?

I Love All My Children the Same/Kitties Need Love Too

Among the least helpful statements (see "Poop Stinks") made pre-baby was how much I'll ignore my cat. On the day I went to the hospital to deliver my Bundle of Joy, I posted a picture of my cat. Instead of people saying how cute she is, etc etc they commented on how that'll be the last picture I'll ever take of her. Wow, how optimistic and loving that sentiment is. Thank you for sharing. I actually still love my kitty very much. I missed her while I was in the hospital and couldn't wait for her to meet her new "sister". Do I love her on the same level as an actual human being who came out of me and shares my DNA? No, of course not. Do I love her as much as I ever have and try to shower her with the same amount of love and affection as I did before? You betcha. I still take pictures of her. Maybe not as many as my daughter, but Lane is kind of done growing so I don't need to "track" her development like my baby’s and well, nobody is demanding pictures of her.

My Husband is a Rockstar/How Do Single Mothers Do It??

The first couple weeks, I wasn’t much good to anybody, especially my newborn. My husband immediately took over every duty he could (while still laughing at the word “duty”). Even when I became human again, he still went out of his way to do every single thing he could. He cooks, he cleans, he wakes up in the middle of the night to change dirty diapers. He sings songs and makes faces. He is so patient and loving. He's hard-working and self-sacrificial. He has the best daddy’s voice and he can work magic when he paces the room while lulling her to sleep.
One thought ran over and over in my head since Daddy’s Girl joined our family - I cannot make it on my own, especially when I'm "Stuck". Sometimes I just need somebody, anybody else to help (cause I just really have to peeeeeee). But as I go back to work, I'm grateful that I don't have just anybody. I have Andrew. The best father in the world (especially in her eyes). I am now way more grateful for him than ever.

What, Do I Smell or Something?/Don’t Be a Stranger

When I got married, my single friends stopped hanging out with me. I was offended at first, but then I realized they thought they were just being polite – not wanting to disturb the newlyweds. I tried to make it clear that I needed interaction outside of my husband but it was hard to break that mindset for many friends, especially those who knew me before I was married. Since moving to Texas where people only know me by my married name, we were able to establish an open door policy. Our friends easily make themselves at home in our apartment.
However, now that there’s a baby, our door has been mostly closed. Even after announcing the pregnancy, our social lives diminished (only partially due to the fact that I was so exhausted!). Many things have changed (see “Babies Change Everything”), but my desire for adult interaction hasn’t. If anything, it has increased. I still enjoy game night, going to the movies or just a good old fashioned chat session. Even if I need to take care of baby simultaneously, I can still play a mean game of Scrabble. So please, don’t be a stranger. As cute as My Little Talker’s babbles are, she hasn’t quite learned to quote Billy Madison yet.