Truth in the Valley

I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been going through a "valley" lately. And, quite honestly, I feel ashamed of that.

Listen, I’m no Job. I have a family that all love me and we all get along marvelously (for the most part). I have a dog that is always happy to see me shuffling up the front walk. I live with four adorable children (and another two in Virginia) that I love to Pluto and back. I just got back from my second trip abroad, just for fun. I have a church family that pushes me to know Christ on a deeper level. I have a stable job with benefits. I have a car that is paid off. Goodness, I even have a nice camera and a Mac.

And, yet, I sit in my little room and feel alone, needy, unsettled, unwanted, and useless. And when it feels like my life goes dark, all of those insecurities, my wants, and failed dreams hit me repeatedly in the face like a prized fighter. Oh boy, telling yourself the Truth and preaching the Gospel to yourself while buried under 26 years of failings and misgivings just isn’t going to happen. I see that light at the top of the pit getting smaller and smaller. I desperately try to discern the reason for getting stuck in the muck at the bottom. There is always that one reason that seems to be that pea under 10 mattresses that keeps me up at night….

Single and still living with family.

Nope. I don’t have my own place. I don’t have a living room full of cutesy vintage trunks and books. I don’t have a couch for friends to sit on and watch a movie together. I don’t have a stove to explore new recipes on. I don’t have a kitchen table to decorate for a romantic dinner for my husband. I don’t have a guy that will open my car door. I don’t have any fat babies with bright eyes watching my every move. I have one room that is too full of Knick-knacks and no room to expand. I have a small armchair shoved in a corner. I have a mini fridge filled with bottled sodas for the kids. I haven’t put the comforter on my bed since I last washed it. I haven’t mopped my bathroom since last month. I sometimes forget to feed my dog. I get easily offended with family members. I get angry at the kids for being too loud. I quickly jump to conclusions and judge people wrongly. So desperate for it to not be about me, that it becomes about me.

It’s easy for me to think that if those “problems” of hearth and home would be solved, I would be complete. I wouldn’t feel useless, alone, unwanted, unsuccessful. I would want to be all the responsible I’m not now.

The person living in the basement will be the same person living in their own two story house with picket fence. The married you will be the same un-married you. The no-guy-relationship you will still have issues with personal relationships. The mother you will be just as messed up as the non-mother you.

And maybe that’s what frightens me the most:
That I will still be me. Flawed. Needy. Selfish. Untidy. Control-freak. Offended. Hurt.
The mud starts to cover my head and I stop fighting...

Could it be the problem isn’t where I am or where I’m not? Not who I’m living with or who isn’t in my life?
I don’t like that answer. It means effort. Introspection. Surrender. Change. And no “quick, put a Band-Aid on it” fix. I so much wish the answer would be that everything would fall into place if I only had my own home. If I only had that someone. If only....

Sometimes, you just don’t have the answers or the reasons. And that makes a fixer, such as myself, more frustrated than squirrel chasing a nut on a treadmill. It also means you have to be open and vulnerable with others and let them speak Truth into your life. And all the introverts shudder. At times that truth makes no sense to your pit mucked up heart. Or maybe it makes too much sense and you want to throat punch the “truth sayer.” When you are at the bottom of the pit, the cold mud becomes more comfortable than blisters it will take to climb out. And the junk food of lies often tastes better than the veggies of truth.

I don’t know where I’m going with all of this. I’m pretty much preaching to the choir. And like any normal choir member, I’m not paying attention… There’s a line in the song by Jason Gray, “Remind me who I am” that keeps resonating in my soul. “When I can't receive Your love, Afraid I'll never be enough, Remind me who I am."
This where I am. And maybe this is my own way of self-medicating myself with Truth. Take it or leave it.

Looking for Truth,

Ti-Ti

What's the Big Deal?

I am a firm believer that Valentine’s Day can be for singles too.

Yep, you read that right. Singles. People with no “luvah’s.” People who order take out for one. People who don’t share a bank account. People who rarely have to ask someone else’s opinion on what movie to watch. People who let their dog lick their cheek cause no one else will kiss it. People who bring fellow single friends to work holiday parties. People who live in other’s basements. People who the only person they hold hands with are under 4 feet tall and also call you aunt. People who text their mother more than any other person in their contact list. People that sing love songs to their dog. People that car dance because they most often ride in their car alone. People who go to the library every Thursday to hang out in a corner by themselves. People that don't have to share the bag of popcorn. People that don't have to worry about annoying someone with the alarm going off 7 times of a morning. People that don't share a facebook account.

You see, growing up, valentine’s was never a holiday just for my parents or just a holiday for couples. It was a huge family event. Sure, my parents celebrated their couple status in various ways that day, cheesy cards, special gifts, dinners out. But usually if it was dinner out it wouldn’t actually be on Valentine’s Day. Honestly, I don’t really remember much more “celebration” that they as a couple had more than us. It wasn’t as though it was this big thing for just mom and dad to share their love for one another. It was a big day for all of us to show our love for each other. Don’t get me wrong. My parents are super expressive of their love for each other (gag). It wasn’t as though they weren’t happy to be a couple, but they made it more than just love towards the significant other and more of love towards family and friends. It was like second Christmas, but bigger. (And maybe my memory is just remembering it the way I want to, but this is honestly what I remember.)

Okay so maybe I’ve made a big deal about Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’m super weird for it being my favorite holiday. (Okay so that one isn’t a maybe, it’s a for sure thing.) Maybe my parents never anticipated that their unique celebration of a commercialized holiday would turn their youngest into a passionate fanatic. Maybe it’s been my soapbox for so long that the stepping down seems nearly impossible.

Does it sometime hurt because I don’t have “that special one” that I can share this holiday with? Honestly, yeah. It does. Sometimes more than I let on. Does it bother me that so much of that cute stuff for Valentine’s Day is aimed at people with a “luvah?” You bet it does. Does it sink my heart when so many of the special deals you find around this time are only for two people? Like a rock. Do I feel a prick when all the couples decide that because of the holiday, it's okay to have PDA around me? Maybe more than a prick.

But you see, I am a firm believer that Valentine’s Day can be for singles too.

I refuse to let them win. I refuse to wear black. I refuse to be talked off this soap box.

So personality quizzes have been going around rampant lately. One quiz said that while my character type loves deeply, we don't often talk of it. But we think our actions and gifts speak louder than actually saying the words. So maybe that's why I love this holiday so much. I get to give gifts to people I love and I don't have to go all emotional on them. Maybe it gives me an excuse to go all out for those people I love. Maybe it feels like it means more because it's not your normal holiday to give gifts and celebrate family and friends. Especially this year, I'm feel more emotional myself so it's rubbing off on this holiday. I feel like Oprah. "Aw, I love you, so here! You get a new car! And you! I'll pay your entire mortgage!! Here's a college fund for all 7 of your children!!!"
The same quiz also said that I was deeply rooted in tradition. So maybe it's also a traditional thing for me and I can't give it up because, well it's tradition.
I also hate to be defined by being single. I'd rather be defined by being a "nanny" than being a "single nanny." Maybe it's all the preconceived notions and stereo-types that come along with the title "single" that I hate, but whatever the case, I never want to introduce myself as, "Hey, I'm Tiffany and I'm single." [Rabbit trail: Don't get me wrong, singleness is a part of who I am and it does change my viewpoint. I just don't like that it defines me. Like my character, my like and dislikes, my passions, my interests have nothing to do with it because you already know all about me because I'm single. I am more than a title.] And I loath how the valentine holiday brings out the worst in "singles" and I refuse to fall into that camp for even a second.

Maybe that's why it's a big deal to me.

Listen, I get it. I’m super weird in my affinity for this holiday. I don’t even think my family understands my obsession. I don’t even think even I understand my obsession. Maybe I’m clinging desperately to an idea that needs to be let go. But honestly, it makes me feel like a kid at Christmas. Can I keep that feeling? Just for one more year? Can I keep it forever? Do I have to grow out of it?

If you are out there and single, I think I’ve firmly stated that I’m here for you. I’ll share my favorite holiday with you, in all it’s weirdness.You can hang with my equally weird family and not worry about being "single." I’ll buy you the token box of chocolates and eat them with you while watching a chick flick. I’ll hug you when it gets too much and you need to cry. I’ll share my compassionate puppy who gives great sympathy hugs too.
If you are out there and not single, but hate this holiday, I’m here for you too. I’ll help you plan that fun and romantic time. I’ll watch your kids. I’ll be your chauffer. I’ll even offer any little cooking skills I have if needed.

Just, please, don’t try and tell me how weird I am. Don't tell me the tooth fairy and leprechauns aren't real. Don’t mock my tradition of wearing valentine colors for a week before the day. Don’t bash my holiday. Don’t disillusion me and pull me off my soap box.

So I’m weird. I’m obsessive. I’m passionate. I’m clingy to a desperate degree.
This is my soap box and I’m staying up here.

Love,

Ti-Ti

Of Resolutions and Changes

I’m not usually big on the whole new year’s resolutions band wagon. I mean, I guess I feel like it’s kinda cliché and most fall of that wagon on the 10^th of January anyways. This year though, I feel like I have more goals, more “new year’s resolutions” if you will, than I have ever had in years past.

I’m not gonna lie. About 80% of those goals I haven’t even started. Maybe I’m being way too optimistic about how much I can “change” or “do better.”  Which of course, gets me thinking about that wording. I think that’s why I’ve been so much against those resolutions in the past. It feels like stomping my foot and saying, “I will change me! I am woman, hear me roar! See? I’m so cool!”

But here’s the other flip side of that coin. (And perhaps the whole purpose of my writing this blog post.) I feel like I’ve become pretty complacent (read: LAZY). I think I’ve gotten a bit of the “well I can’t change me so I won’t try” mentality.  

Now I’m not saying that I change ME. What I’m saying is, I’m not going to sit around doing the same thing I’ve always done (nothing) and expect to suddenly have all these “goals” and “betterments” accomplished.

So here’s my resolution.

GO.
DO.
BE.

Go. No more hiding. No more, “I can’t God.  You have the wrong person….”
Do more. No more putting off. No more sitting around. No more “I was going to, but…”
Be intentional. No more just doing things because that’s what you always do. No more halfhearted, “well, I tried….”

Listen, I’m an introvert. My comfort zone is located in my lovely arm chair in my room with my laptop, eating puppy chow and watching a BBC movie. My comfort zone is being a wallflower and invisible. My comfort zone is never having to talk to a new person in a crowded room. My comfort zone is never going somewhere I don't know and I haven't planned for. And no matter how badly I’ve worded the above resolution, you have to know, that every single one of those words is a great distance from my pink bubble of comfort.  Which means, I can’t do this.

Are you ready for that cliché phrase?

Not on my own.

That’s where I’ve been. And that’s why it hasn’t changed.  I’ve never been a fan of the “God helps those that help themselves.” But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t work, deeds, action, that needs to happen on my end.

So, I’m resolved to do, go, and be….. 

(p.s. Yeah, that's a picture of my Ireland there.... It's it lovely?)

Ready to change,

Ti-Ti

Valentine Verbalization

It is usually around this time of year that I log in to my blog (a.k.a. soapbox) and tell singles to stop feeling sorry for themselves. To get out and live the life that God has given you. While I am still firmly planted on that soapbox, this year, I’m not only going to be talking to singles. This time, my tirade is aimed at everyone. I’ve been noticing a trend on social media. This trend doesn’t just included single girls or guys. No, I have seen it suck in long time married couples, newlyweds, and even dating couples. This trend happens to be the bashing of one of my favorite holidays, Valentine’s Day.

 I've heard a lot of excuses for why people hate Valentine’s Day. We’ll start with the biggest one.

“It’s too commercialized.”

Welcome to ‘Merica (yes, I just said ‘Merica), where we take everything we can possible earn a buck on and use it to our full advantage.  Honestly, Christmas is SO MUCH more commercialized, but if someone says they hate Christmas, we call them Scrooge, a bah-humbug, a Grinch. Honestly, you should have a much bigger problem with Christmas being commercialized than Valentine’s Day.  Sure, I’ve heard people comment that Christmas is commercialized. But do they still buy gifts for each other? Do they still set up a tree and put hundreds of sparkling lights up? Do they still spend hours baking all those special goodies that we are told we need for Christmas? You bet they do. Commercialism? Sure. But a good excuse to hate Valentine’s Day? Lame Sauce.

“I can say ‘I love you’ any time of the year. I don’t need a special day for it.”

I sure hope you do say I love you to the people in your life on a regular basis. Don’t ever take for granted the people God has placed in your life. But on the other hand, do you need a special day to be thankful? Do you need a special day to remember Jesus came as a baby to save us? Do you need a special day to remember the freedoms you’ve been given in this country? Do you need a special day to praise God for his resurrection and paying the ultimate price for us? Just as these holidays are set aside to turn our attention and focus on a “special event”, so is Valentine’s Day a day set aside to tell everyone you love how much they mean to you.

“There’s way too much pink and glitter.”

Say WHAT?!? Oh, you are talking to the wrong girl about that one! If I could wear pink, and glitter, and hearts every day of the year, I would be one happy cookie. You can NEVER have too much pink! Or too much glitter? CERTAINLY NOT. Okay, so not everyone shares my affinity for pink and sparkles. I guess I can forgive you for that. But I don’t hate on your favorite color, yellow, because I can’t wear it. I don’t make a face every time you mention that orange is the new black. I don’t laugh when you say you just can’t get enough of the color brown. So don’t hate on my sparkles or pink.

“It just feels fake.”

Listen, I’m not sure that is the holiday's fault there. That one solely rests on your shoulders, my friend. Anything can become “fake” if you want to have that attitude. Guess, what? I’ve been to my fair share of “fake” Christmas gatherings. I’ve never felt more “fake” than at the Halloween party- I mean “harvest party.” (cough, cough) Okay, so you meant “fake” as in being not genuine, not from the heart, instead of “fake” - not being yourself. Listen to that definition- sounds like it starts with you. If your heart is fake, so will the holiday, so will the birthday, so will everyday.

“It’s the loneliest day of the entire year.”

Alright, so this one is more from singles. Or perhaps your significant other is away right now. Hey, I know this awesome person that loves the holiday and would love to do nothing more that sprinkle a bit of glitter into your day. She’s always a text away if you simply need a hug. She also loves to give gifts and might just show up with a box of chocolates and teddy bear if the need arises. Now, if you live out of state, you might just have to be happy with a package, or if you’re really desperate, you could always buy her a plane ticket…

“Cupid. I mean, a fat, naked baby that shoots people with “love” arrows? Awkward.”

Yeah, I’ll give you that one. It’s pretty weird. But hey, a jolly, fat, old guy with a long, white beard that comes down your chimney in the middle of the night? You’ve got to admit that Valentine’s Day isn’t the only holiday with a creepy “character” associated with it.

So, you all have, in essence, been reading my diary posts for a while now. I hope you know that I’m strongly for singles getting out and living life. I also hope you know that my stance on any of this does NOT mean that I am an” independent female that does NOT need a silly man in my life to complete it.” I’m not a bitter single. I’m not conforming valentine’s day to fit my single needs. I’m not secretly smirking at all you couples that are “drinking the poison” and getting married. Hey, I love love. (And I can even photograph that upcoming wedding or engagement portraits for you and make you kiss a bunch.) The grass is not “greener” on the other side. Wherever you are, be all there.

[P.S. Just because I can’t leave this alone and must at least make mention of it somehow… Singles, there ain’t no more tissues and boxes of chocolates to gorge on while watching a chick-flick and complaining about your status in life. Get up. Get out. Wake up and smell the coffee. Go. Fight! Win! And call me when you get back, darling. I enjoy our visits….]

So stop bashing and start loving.

Proudly wearing pink,
Ti-Ti

Finally Free

Sometimes, I feel like I have to tell myself "I am a confident, independent woman who can do things on my own, without help" over and over.
But then I wonder and worry, what if I've now run those extremes? What if I've become so confident, I'm now arrogant? Or what if I'm so independent I don't know how to accept help?  Or, if there ever was someone in my life, I won't know how to live a co-dependent life? Or what if I've not listened to myself good enough and now I've become a hermit?

How is one to balance them out? Honestly, I'm not sure, I'm still working it out (and will take any advice you have in the matter). So often I run the far ends of the pendulum. So "confident" I'm a loud, bossy mess (usually when it involves competition of some kind) who has to be around lots of people (not a ton, because I don't do well in really large crowds). So confident that I won't let any one get a word in edge wise and so arrogantly stubborn you can't say one thing without it getting ripped to shreds. Or the other side, going to do my own things without telling anybody because I'm doing them ON. MY. OWN. Or where locking my room door and pulling the covers over my head is much easier than facing people that might ask me questions, even family members.*gasp* You may think these are slightly exaggerated examples, but I've done those exact things so many times, I've lost track. (It does tend to run the hermit track more often than not.)

So where is the balance? How can I learn to be completely me and in the middle?

I keep coming back to the phrase, I am free.

So maybe it's a daily struggle. One that takes years and years of practice. One that is never ending. But one that is made easier because He has set me free.

I don't have to hide behind my "introvert" tendencies or use them as an excuse. I don't have to be ruled by what others feel I should or shouldn't not be confident in.
I'm learning it's okay to be frighten of going somewhere uncomfortable. It's okay to need some quiet time to myself and God to reflect. It's okay if I don't speak up and just listen, even when I feel judged because I don't speak. It's okay that I feel more able to express myself when writing blogs instead of actually speaking them. It's okay to be sure of yourself in certain situations. It's okay to have an opinion. It's okay to need help sometimes. And sometimes, it's okay to be loud. (FYI, if you ever need an announcer in a loud room or someone to do a sound bite of screaming, I've got a good set of lungs. Maybe it's the German in me. HA)

He has made me free to be exactly who He made me. He is completing me just as He designed. And He loves me with all my quirks and pendulum swings. I don't have to be afraid of not being exactly in the middle right now. I'll probably never be in that perfect balanced spot. (And who are we kidding. Balanced is boring, right?) 

So what are your thoughts? What do you do to find that elusive balance? What verses/books/sermons/thoughts have helped?

Learning to live finally free,
Ti-Ti

Greener Grass? or Polar Prospectives?

Purity Rings....

Maybe it was a homeschooler thing. Maybe it was an "Independent Fundamental Baptist" thing. Maybe it was just the hip "Christian" thing to do. When I turned 16, my parents gave me a purity ring. They never told me what finger to put it on. And they may not have even called it a purity ring. Maybe they just called it a promise ring (More like a "promise to God" ring.) Maybe they just gave us rings when we turned 16 cause it was cool and pretty.... (knowing my parents, though, there was a deeper reason than that....)

I honestly have to use both my hands, take off my shoes, and use my neighbors fingers as well to count the number of times I've been asked how long I've been married, if I just got engaged, or any other combination of those two. I answer honestly, but every time I answer it seems to somewhat scare people away..... as though they feel awkward for assuming that or maybe pity for me...

There was a blog floating around recently about a girl who took off her purity ring. She decided that it was making her wait to live her life. She was pursuing a relationship with Christ only so she would get a guy in the end. (not really where I am but a good read, nonetheless, Gracefortheroad- "I Don't Wait Anymore.")
Being as shy as I am, I tend to do things that help me blend in. Often, I've thought of taking my ring off, or maybe try wearing it on a different finger to avoid the conversation.  And sometimes, laugh at me if you will, I've thought that on occasion it has scared several "potentials" away. (Oh, the joys of being a nanny with a ring on. But at least the kids are cute so I take it as a compliment when people think they're mine... "Ma'am, you make beautiful babies." HA!!!) But my reasons for possibly taking it off were nothing similar to what this girl decided.

Last Sunday, we talked about being single and marriage (and a bit of other stuff too). The point that spoke the most to me was the encouragement and discipleship that needs to go both ways- from singles to marrieds, from marrieds to singles. Both of them have their own struggles and insights into life and neither "side" has the "greener grass."
{P.S. free advertisement here- if you want to hear the message -or any of the other messages from my awesome pastor -(yes, he's my brother, no I'm not biased) go here- highplains.org- sermons (this message is "the Gifted- Part 22)}

So here's my thought. Let's understand each other a bit better by getting both sides of this story. Married peoples, what are your thoughts about "purity rings" and singles what do you think about them?

Before you give your insight, let me shed a bit of light on how I view my purity ring. (And honestly, I'm probably not going to take mine off anytime soon, if ever- even if it does produce some awkward times for me. Partly because you'd have to be very convincing toward why I should because I've inherited both my parents stubbornness, partly because it doesn't fit on any other finger, and partly because my finger would look deformed because I've been wearing it so long.) (Whoa, totally felt like Tevye from Fiddler On the Roof there, "on one hand... on the other hand.... on the other hand...") I don't believe this ring is causing me to "wait" to live my life. I've always been a firm believer of living where you are. Like Mike said in the sermon, "wherever you are in life, be all there." (or something similar to that) I don't even really view it as a reminder to avoid "temptation". My view on the purity ring is more broad I guess. Sort of a promise, no that's not the right word, a.... commitment...a.... striving....to put God above my own selfish desires, no matter what those desires are. It's there to remind me that I'm not here for me and me only.

Does that even make sense? Where are you on this? What are your thoughts and insights?

(P.S. it was also mentioned that we need to be open and tell others what "hurts" us in our different "relationship statuses". Here's a good read from a singles side of things convergemagazine-"26, unmarried and childless)

Getting both sides of the story,
Ti-Ti

Troubling Transitions and Trails

I feel it in the wind.... just around the bend. And no- I'm not talking about Pocahontas.

Change

At the end of last year, I did a post about feeling ready for change- like I was on the edge of the cliff waiting for the jump. But now I think I've got locked knees and a fear of ricocheting off the sharp rocks on the way down.

I don't think I knew exactly what I was asking for when I said I wanted change. I think I had a prefect plan for "change" in my head and when it's not going where I though it would.... well, let's just pretend that my plan was to always stay at the top of the cliff and enjoy the view rather than bungee off.

So often I get this picture perfect image in my head of where I am going. I pat myself on the back for how open I am to change and growth. I imagine how "my picture" will be the most amazing thing that God has done in my life. And somehow, I'll easy into this change with the grace only displayed by the characters of a BBC movie. But God never does things quite my way. Because, most of the time, my way isn't right or where He wants me.

I still feel a bit stagnant- but you know- maybe that stagnant feeling is just me digging in my heels.

 

You see, I really feel that God has given me a dream for my future house. I desperately want at least a 2 bedroom house so that I can use that second room as a ministry. I want to open it up to mainly single girls. Single mothers who need a jumping point. Single missionary ladies visiting. Girls that are needed a place between housing for a bit. But mostly, for those single girls that just need to be independent and move out of their parent's house. I'm not encouraging separation of the unhealthy kind at all. And I won't advise them on whether it is healthy or not- that's between them and God. But honestly, it was sooo good for me to get out of my parents house. I love both of my parents to death. I wouldn't trade them ever, even for a really, really, really nice camera. (ha) And I would surely go back to living with them in a moments notice, if that was were God had me. But sometimes, we just need a jumping off point to get on our own. Sometimes, we're just floating in that environment and we have to learn to get out on our own. A halfway house if you will. My jumping point was- and is- Mike and Mindy's basement. It has opened my eyes to what I want my future house to be like.

I don't think that I've put this dream in my head. I really do think that God has given it to me. But perhaps I'm pushing it to happen sooner than it needs too. I'm so impatient to start my dream that I think it is highly unlikely that God will move me to a place that will not meet this dream. And because this is such a "God-given" dream, surely He can't wait for me to be able to do it and will make it happen sooner rather than later, right? (ha)


But what if he doesn't put me there? What if He keeps me here for a very long time? What if he moves me to a place where the "dream" can't/won't/shouldn't start for many, many years? What if He takes away that dream? Will I complain about it? Will I claim money restraints are holding me back? Will I create my own little drama were I am now? Will I become so sensitive to not going where I want that I create rifts and roadblocks of my own? Will I seclude myself in my room eating handfuls of Lucky Charms and an entire box of fruit snacks?

I think that's where I'm in of danger of going now. Becoming so impatient to get where I think I should be at this time in my life that I become discontent. Looking at all my friends and comparing where they are and looking dismally at where I am. Imaging people thinking all kinds of disparaging thoughts about where I am and what I'm doing in and with my life. And it doesn't even have to be with my living situation. I've done this with so many areas of my life where I feel like I haven't got a purpose.

But the thing is- the thing I'm trying to remember when I get so discouraged and down about my life as it is now- is that it doesn't matter. None of these temporary things- that seem like such a big deal to me - really matter. (And to be truthful, sometimes these things are really small. Like really small.)

What really matters is where I am in Christ- my relationship with God. If this "bump" in my plans brings me closer to him and brings Him glory, then I hope I can be like Paul as he followed Christ in saying "Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope"  (Yes, Mother. Character is an elephant still. ha) or "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.." Or like Peter " In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." This is the best option for me. (And even though some of the stuff that I may call "trails" wouldn't normally be classified as that, they sure seem like "hardships" to me.)

That doesn't mean I'm surrendered to this. That I will freely go about my life with a charming smile, accepting everything in my life even if it's not what I planned, never worrying about what others think about where I am. Oh no, I'm far too stubborn for that. There will be multitudes of nights with me crying that nothing is the way it should be. There will be gobs of days with me hanging my head in despair. There will be a ton of moments when I'm complaining to God that He's not going the right way. But you see, if I were to just easily accept this, where would the growth be? Where would my relationship with God be if I never needed Him? If I took everything that came easily, I would never need to look up. And, honestly, there have been a lot of dark times for me lately. Times when I seemed to like looking at the mud at the bottom of my pit rather than the sunlight and the hand reaching for me at the top of the pit. But that also means that I've been needing to do a lot of looking up. And sometimes, I've felt a bit blinded by the sunlight because I've been groping around in the dark for so long.

But here's the thing:

No matter where I'm "going" with my life, it doesn't change who I am in Him.

No matter if I feel like I don't matter, it doesn't change how He loves me.

No matter if I'm forever living in basement until I'm 78, it doesn't change how He can use me.

No matter if I never get "my dream", it doesn't change that He died for me.

 

"When I lose my way,
And I forget my name,
Remind me who I am.
In the mirror all I see,
Is who I don't wanna be,
Remind me who I am.
In the loneliest places,
When I can't remember what grace is.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You,
That I belong to You.
To You.

When my heart is like a stone,
And I'm running far from home,
Remind me who I am.
When I can't receive Your love,
Afraid I'll never be enough,
Remind me who I am.
If I'm Your beloved,
Can You help me believe it.

I'm the one you love,
I'm the one you love,
That will be enough,
I'm the one you love.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You.
That I belong to You."- Jason Gray

Looking up,
Ti-Ti

Painfully Phony- Posed Photography

I recently had an experience at my work with a professional photographer. Now, normally I'm behind the camera. Or if I'm say, in a wedding party, they usually don't need a ton of photos of me and there isn't a whole lot of posing that I had to do. Suffice it to say, I'm not used to being in a posed group of people. Let's just say that it was a very eye opening experience for me. Now, perhaps was just an off day for the photographer and I really don't want to put him down too much, but it sure felt like he hadn't a clue what he was doing.

Perhaps you saw these pictures in a little article in the Reporter Herold in the At Home section a bit ago. If you didn't, try not to be too disappointed, as I have included a snapshot of the snapshot for your viewing pleasure. And, many that I have shown this picture to say that is wasn't as awkward as we in the office felt, so please take what I say with a grain of salt and let me vent.

First of all he posed us outside, in the cold, while it started snowing, and then took quite some time telling us, the girls mainly, how to stand. I repeat, in the snow.... in heels....in light, white shirts. Then his feet positions that he told us girls to stand in was off. He had us point our right foot- or left foot as the case maybe- toward the photographer- with your other foot at a 90* (or perhaps 110* angle) behind it while touching heels. This was to bring the shoulders up and out so you don't collapse in. It was partially correct, you do point your foot and you do have your other foot behind you- but in a 75* angle and about 2/3 of your foot size away from your heel, not touching them. This gives you a nice line and in most cases will make you look slimmer. However, if you touch heels and have a bigger degree of an angle you look like a penguin and it makes your shoulders look very broad (not something we women usually want). Also, it makes you look highly unstable because most people- or maybe its just me. Yeah, I think it's just me- are not ballerinas with the best balance.

Secondly, he told us to have our arms "just by our sides." You know all that hard work we just did to bring our shoulders out and get a good posture?? Yeah, it just got wiped away with what I like to call orangutan arms. Letting your arms "just be by your side" without specific placement tends to make them look long and dangly. Also, people feel pretty awkward this way and you will end up with some hooking their hands in pockets (the cowboy look), others who have a weird leg grip going on (the half squatting look), while others look like they are dangling their fingers in the ocean trying to catch a shark (the fishing look). And since this was to be a professional picture, a good place would be comfortably clasped in front or behind our backs. I prefer the front as sometimes when you put them in the back it can make you look like you haven't any arms at all. This also brings your shoulders out and gives you a nice upright position.

Thirdly, he told us not to smile, but to look content. It's very rare for a person to not smile and still look content. If you can successfully accomplish this, you tend to look as though you just peed your pants. Not really  a pleasant look at all. Most of us that try to look content and not smile end up looking like serial killers. I did watch this video recently that discouraged against using the hard "e" words that we usually do when taking pictures. I.E. Don't use "cheese". It makes your smile more forced and in some cases very wide and -HA- cheesy. This, I would agree with. Kids do tend to need words to say to focus them, but you should use more "ah" words such as "mocha" or "yoga". The best way of course to get that natural smile is to make them laugh.

Also, we were not given a count or any indication that he was now taking real pictures, and not just testing his lighting. I will admit, as a more photojournalistic photographer I tend to have a hard time remembering to tell people when I'm actually taking the picture. But for a professional picture such as this, some indication would have been much appreciated.

I'm all for friendly photographers. You want people to be very comfortable and themselves with you. But, especially in a business setting when everyone is just thinking of the next thing they need to do, I don't think getting their life story is needed. Especially when you are standing in the snow....in heels..... like a duck..... in a white shirt...... on the edge of a curb.......at 8:00 in the morning...... in the wet snow.......or maybe I've mentioned that already??? ;)

Next he did very, very posed pictures of us "working." Now I know this one is simply more my style than something that is fundamentally wrong in photography. But honestly, I don't think it makes someone look very friendly when they are awkwardly standing over a co-worker with orangutan arms trying to look natural and failing miserably. (That one probably had more to do with his model than his posing abilities.)

Which brings me to the point of this blog (which, surprisingly isn't just me rambling on and pretending to know something, like usual. HA). It's not easy for me to take criticism. At all. Even more so in photographing because I'm so insecure about my photography. But if I ever want to grow in photography, I have to learn and be willing to take advice or criticism from others. So those of you that have had your pictures taken from me, did you go home and complain to your family about how awkward that was? When you got the pictures did you bemoan the fact that none of them looked natural or like you at all? Did you and your friends use or want to use the pictures as a dart board?
What about you that are just looking at my photos? Do they look cheesy? Do they look like unbalanced ballerina ducks?

Always learning,
Ti-Ti

Considerably Cute Chipper

Finally some pictures of David Lance "Chipper" Saxon, III

In case you didn't know, he was born March 17th, Saint Patrick's Day, at 6:54pm. (Which also happened to be his actual due date. Well kinda. I think he sort of had two days given, the 17th and the 18th.) He was a whopping 9 lbs. 21 inches. He ended up being born by c-section (which mommy was kinda glad when she found out how big he was), due to his heart rate dipping.

We got to see him literally minutes after he was born as they paused for like 4 seconds as they wheeled him back to the room. We heard the length pretty much right away (which I won the guess, by the way), but then we waited forever for the height and to hear how mommy was. I think they forgot about us out there in the little room. We got very used to that room while we were there. It consisted of one small round table with 3 hard chairs, two armed chairs, microwave, and most importantly a coffee machine. I soon discovered that it was much too small to pace in. At least there was Internet access.

Due to some concerns about his oxygen level, his sugar level, and a dipping heart rate, Chipper was kept in the nursery from his first night until I left. Right as I had to go back to the airport, they had decided to take him to the Milwaukee Children's Hospital. It was so hard to leave right then. Thankfully, after checking him out for a night there, it was determined that everything was good and he was cleared to go home.

I know it's been a bit since I was out in WI- but my OCD was having a battle with the graininess of these photos. He was born at night and was in the dimly light nursery the whole time. So while most of the pictures turned out pretty blurry due to the low lighting- at least you get a general idea how cute my little guy is.......and I get to go out again at the end of this month for better photos! Which makes me just a bit happy........

  

Missing my cutie,

Ti-Ti

Pet Peeves

So I'm on a.... what would you call it.... sensory trip? Ummm "this is how I feel, how do you feel?" sessions? I'm not entirely sure what to call it, but hey at least I'm posting again....

This time it's Pet Peeves. I've got a lot of pet peeves. Most of them I try to hide or I at least try to control them, so I don't "go postal" on you. But sometimes, sometimes they just jump out.

Like chewing. I mean really. We all have to do it, but there are those that seem to not be able to do it unless their mouth is open. And the crunchier the thing, the worse it is. As long as I'm crunching with you, I'm good, so don't be offended if you happen to be eating chips and I all the sudden grab your bag and start chowing. (Oh, and please don't start grunting while you eat like Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice.)

And one that's close to that, I don't let my dog chew her nails. It's normally not loud enough to bother me when humans chew theirs (although I don't really get the point of it.... they invented clippers for you, FYI). But dogs are just annoying when they chew theirs. And I don't let her lick her paws very much either..... It goes back to that chewing or "smacking" noise that drive me up a tree.

I don't know if I would necessarily count as a peeve, but I can't do lint.... or loose hair.......or flannel....... or corduroy...... or anything fuzzy really. I involuntarily will get chills and my toes will curl so much they hurt. I think it stems from hating things that are "dry" and why I never touch a news paper with out recently lotioned hands and why I'm always carrying around a big bottle of lotion and why I throw fits when airport security takes away my lotion. The meanies. I mean, you have to be much more clever than I am to make a weapon with that.

I hate it when people say that "every one's a photographer." No. Not true. Everyone can take pictures and "think" they are a photographer, but that does not make them a photographer. You don't hear people say "every one's an artist", do you?

I don't like it when someone tells me that I either will or will not like the ending of a book or movie. Please just state it as your opinion and not how I *will* feel about it.

I cringe at the sound of certain types of cardboard on cardboard. You know if you set a box on top of another and scoot it the rest of the way. Or if you fold the flaps inside and it rubs on the side.

Another one I'm not sure that really counts as a peeve, but I don't do throw up.... cleaning it, smelling it, hearing it, seeing it. Anything. So while I have the deepest sympathy for your pains, please just imagine me rubbing your back while you are hurling, as I run to the nearest windowless, soundproof room.

What about you? Your pet peeves? Do I do them and make you go bonkers?

Cringing,
Ti-Ti

Making Memories

Have you ever noticed how certain smells remind you of past times? I think it's the Parent Trap were she smells her grandfather to make a memory. "Years from now, when I'm all grown up, I'll always remember my grandfather and how he always smelled of........peppermint and pipe tobacco." I've come to discover that I do that without realizing it.

Like the smell of a certain hair gel reminds me of our vacation in Virgina Beach at Sandbridge. Just a few steps would take me out to the beach were the wind would blow my hair across my face.

Or, strangely enough, the smell of Ranch Doritos reminding me of when we went to the "older kids" C.A.C.S. and got all kinds of goodies like Doritos, and Oreos, and lemon drops.



 Or the smell of Goo Goo Dolls candy reminds me of the time when Jenni and I got all kids of junk at the dollar store one time for dinner. "I feel like a super model."

Or the smell of tootsie rolls remind me of how Jenni and I would cut up our tootsie rolls very small and keep them in tin so as to make them last longer.

Or the smell of cattails remind me of many hours spent at the Wishart's playing our make believe games as if our lives depended on them.

Or the smell of Carmel apples and chocolate remind me of late nights at the Aardsmas house trying to eat slices of carmel apples in effort to be cleaner .........and failing miserably.

Or the smell of red vines remind me of smokey Forth of July's sitting so close you could feel the boom in your bones.

Or the smell of moonlight path perfurme reminds me on laying my head on my mommy's lap and talking or of her hugs or her tickling me.... or really anything of my mommy. ;)

And I don't think I'll ever forget the smell of my Saabreensers face when I kiss her.

What is your memory smells? What lovely images do you think of when you come across a certain smell?

Making memories,
Ti-Ti

Closing Contemplations

Have you ever gotten the feeling like nothing has changed in the past year? That you seem to be in the exact same place as you were last year? That life is so dull? Sometimes I feel that's where I am.

Naturally my mind goes to think about all that has changed. I have not only a job, but a full time job with super nice bosses. I have short hair. I have a few more purses, shoes, and scarfs..... and that's seriously where my mind goes blank.

Perhaps it's because I had so much going on in my life last year at this time. I had just gotten a handful of a dog, albeit an adorable one. It hit me last Christmas that I was permanently planning on living with Mike and Mindy. Sounds weird but it wasn't ever really officially in my plans to move in with them long term and last Christmas when I was opening presents with them on Christmas I realized that I was here to stay a long while. (As I told Nikki the other day, she will most likely be married and have 4 children of her own before I move out. Ha!) I was unemployed for 3 months, unaware that I was going to be that way for another 6 months. I was just settling into my new church family, directing Christmas plays and semi stepping in as a church secretary of sorts. Everything seemed so unsettled during that time and it felt like everything was changing. I could never plan a week in advance, sometimes not even a day in advance.

I've never been a really good handler of change. I've always been more the homebody that likes to stay at home and watch the world change in the comfort of my jammers knowing that mine will never be like that. I mean, just read earlier posts about how frightened I was of change. Even if it was in a joking way it was totally scary to me. It's kinda humorous to me now.

Maybe it's been the excitement of my world constantly changing last year that has gotten me hungry for change. It seems like I'm constantly looking around the corner for something to change. Like I'm standing on the edge of cliff waiting to jump. After writing my last post about all the single girls and marriage talk that I'm so much more open for change there too, whatever "there" means.  I wonder if I haven't always had this thirst for change in me a bit. Considering my past job history, I've never been at a job for more than a year. Now some of that wasn't my fault, what with college, businesses selling, or downsizing. But there is part of me that doesn't always do well with the whole "do the same thing day after day."  And maybe that's just human nature. But I feel like it's really come to the surface in the past 2 months in me. I don't feel like this was my nature before or maybe I just was super good at ignoring it.


I feel so ready for something to change, it terrifies me.

Maybe this is Gods way of telling me that I've got another huge lesson coming. (Not that I'm not always learning huge lessons from Him, but last year was some pretty big ones that I don't think I'll ever get a complete hold on.) Or maybe it's just me finally getting a small grasp on His last big lesson to me.

I've always loved that verse in Ephesians where Paul is talking about being content, no matter where you were. But, I think I've taken that to mean something other than what it should- applied in my life in a way that wasn't meant to be. I think I've been content in my life so long as it stayed the same as it always has. Never changing. Never growing. Never learning. Never getting out there. And here's where I get terrified. Changing, growing, learning....well it hurts. And it's never quick. And it's never done.

So maybe after all, things *have* changed in the past year. Maybe I've changed, or rather God has changed me. And no matter how terrified I am of this openness I feel toward changing and growing, I know that I won't have to do any of it on my own. That I have the perfect Person that will give me exactly the change I need. And that makes everything so much more bearable and...well....exciting.


Leaning on Him,
Ti-Ti

Concerning Couples

There seems to be a trend going around lately. It's about, as I like to call it, "marriage talk." It has been anything from a sermon or a blog post, to a facebook status update or a book advertisement on a side bar. I'm not saying I've read all of them, but it kinda seems like the ones I did read left me feeling left out in the cold. It's not because they weren't well written with important information in them. It wasn't even that they were just geared toward married people- some spoke directly to singles. But here's the thing- I'm a bit on the weird side (Ha!) and they just weren't were I was.

You all probably know that I am a people pleaser. And there are just times when I act like I think I'm supposed to act in certain groups. For example, I grew up pretty conservative and was homeschooled my whole life. In this circle, it was kinda expected that you avoided long conversations with guys, never wanting to appear to be *gasp* flirting with them. You didn't really talk about crushes- only when you had way too much chocolate fondue at a sleep over. If you did talk about boys all the time, you were "one of those girls." And, in my case with being shy and not showing my emotions, sometimes my sister didn't even know of guys that I liked. And I find, in this circle, I can kinda come off as a "feminists marriage hater" of sorts, closed off at even the thought of a guy coming into my perfectly ordered life.
And then there are people that I went to Bible College with. There's a reason they call it "bridal college". Honestly, if you sit next to a guy in chapel (whether you know him of not), at lunch you will get asked at least 10 times if he's popped the question yet. Now with these people I end up giggling and sneaking obvious glances out of the corner of our eyes at cowboys in restaurants. Often, I got teased for not ever going on a date or seeking out the attention of a guy. It was expected in this environment.

The thing is, I feel like I'm in the middle of the two extremes, even if I don't come off like that. I'm not one of those girls who was constantly preparing for a man to come into my life and now is struggling with were to find that "Jesus-like" guy. I'm not one of those girls who has a spreadsheet of qualities- good and bad- that I review every time I see a guy. I'm not one of those girls that carries around a soap box to speak often of my "disdain for the idiocrasy of men these days." Neither do I feel am I one who needs to be in a relationship with a guy to be validated. And so I wanted to share my thoughts in the matter, because sometimes I have a hard time talking about or acting how I really feel. And so I write.

So often there seems to be women (and sometimes men) who want to push marriage on me. Yes, I agree that God has created the institution of marriage. He has created us for companionship and there is so much to commend a godly marriage. It's a picture of Christ and the church. There have been whole books written based on scriptures about the benefits of marriage so I'll save you the pain of reading them all. And there's even a pretty good sermon on my church website if you really feel the need to delve deeper. But- now, I say this carefully and please take it with a grain of salt- these people are almost forcing expectation on singles. We hear it, we read it, we are bombarded with it. It can easily make us desperate, unfulfilled and even turn to other things to compensate for our "apparent failure to catch a man and get married to fulfill God's purpose in our life."
I met this super sweet, godly lady in Virginia when I went out for Rod's graduation. Within 7 seconds of talking, I knew her passion and ministry was for the role of women firstly to their husband and then their family. In her eyes, everything that I was going through at the time was God preparing me to meet the perfect man eventually (and who knows, maybe it still is). I'm so glad that God has given her a passion for where He has put her. But I don't think she knew how every single sentence she said pricked a little hole in my heart. All I could think about was, "What if that someone doesn't ever come? What if I've missed him? What have I done wrong not to find that guy yet? Have I lost my effectiveness to serve God because I don't have a man by my side?"

But the thing is, I am free to live COMPLETE and fully fulfilled in Christ alone!

I'm not going to go the opposite direction and quote all of the scriptures on being content or the blessings of being single. We know them. We, as singles, have heard them as platitudes over and over again.

But here's what I'm getting at: Married women, stop spiritually intimidating single girls to find a guy, get married and have 4 kids. You should be spending more time exhorting and encouraging them to know God, rather than know what qualities you can or can't settle for in a guy. And perhaps, stop pushing the line that "God will bring that perfect man into your life." (It really does kinda drive me crazy.) Instead, encourage single girls to be open to be used of God. Be open to where He takes you. Be open to the next step. Stop encouraging singles to keep waiting to get married to live their lives. And get single people involved in your personal family. I've heard it said often that singles are uncomfortable with church because "it's all family oriented." This just helps in the case of them falling away from God and the Church family. So reach out to those singles. Make them like one of your family, because honestly, everything in church is supposed to be "family orientated." We all are in the family of God, after all.

Singles, don't just sit back and feel left out in church. Become the coolest aunt to all of the kids in your church. Become the closest sister to the women and the men. Become the best listener for the seniors in your church. And stop waiting for a man to come into your life to serve God with. Don't put your life on hold for a man! Stop waiting and start following God now. Stop writing your columns of qualities that you need and things you can "compromise" on and start learning about your God. Stopping looking at Jesus for examples of the perfect man to look for and start looking at how you should be living like Jesus. But don't be so adamantly against marriage that you resist God's leading when/if He does bring a man into your life. Make sure you are open for the next step and have a direction.

Now, I'm a photographer, and I absolutely love love. It's amazing to photograph and amazing to witness. I'm not trying to come across as a marriage hater. I'm not trying to bash those women who are so happily married they can't help talking about. Nor am I trying to be mean to those woman that are truly just trying to be encouraging when they say that a man will come into my life when I least expect it. Sometimes they are just asking honest questions to get to know you better. And neither am I trying to say that I'm always 100% content where I am as a single. I'm not saying it's easy to be single. Trust me, there have been times when I've seriously considered hiring a boyfriend for a night to come to work events or to give me an excuse not to go to something that I might think is awkward. I'm so much braver when I'm doing something silly with someone else. But I'm also not saying it's easy to be married. There have been times when I see that marriage/ a relationship takes more work than being single ever does and I recognize that, were I am right now, I could never handle it.



In a nutshell- No matter if you are just married and living in a honeymoon world. Or if you are married for 12 years and fight everyday to get those Lego's off the floor, that crayon off the wall, and some type of food into your moody husband before 9:30 pm. Or if you've just started dating the man of your dreams. Or if you're looking for Mr. Right around every corner of the Internet. Or if you are 23 and have never been on a date- learn to be complete in Christ, right here, right now. Stop comparing you life with those around you. Stop making life decisions based on the opinions of others who don't know you. Be who He has made you to be. Recognize the supremacy of Christ to put you exactly where you need to be and be open to whatever the next step He has for you.


Hoping this all makes sense,
Ti-Ti

Covering the Comencement and Comglomerate

So, yeah, it's been nearly a month since I've left for Virginia and yet still I haven't done the traditional flying blog, let alone my trip blog.
In my defense, may I please add that in that time I have: driven to Denver twice to hang out with Stephanie, watched children multiple times so mother and father could have a few dates, filled out 2 applications in person, 15 online, had an 35 minute interview, a 2 hour group interview, had a prayer conference, gone to 2 different libraries approximately 7 times, did laundry 3 times at the parents house, hung and ordered pics for my mother, completed yet another all-nighter (or rather a partial-nighter), edited photo's from VA for a very anxious young man and his wife, celebrated Mother's Day with the family, gone on a fishing picnic, went camping for a night, dressed up as a super villain, hung out at a garage sale, dug through somewhere between 30 to 80 very interesting old books, went Frisbee throwing at 10pm, broke my computer cord, bought a cheap cord that ended up melting things with the charging box thingy, returned the second broken cord, received a second slightly more expensive computer cord, hung out with a friend I haven't seen in months, went to DIA in pouring rain, had a ladies bible study, put out the church calendar for June, saw a partial eclipse, washed my "brown" dog twice, rebuilt approximately 24 Lego airplanes, started a part-time job for two weeks, got "fired" from the part time job after two weeks, celebrated memorial day, helped weed at my parents house for two days, got sun blisters, had an amazingly crazy 3 year old birthday party, welcomed my sister and her husband to Colorado, started the process of booking my first wedding shoot, and so much more, I'm sure.
So go easy on me.

I've decided to combine the classic "people-watching-in-an-airport-blog with my trip blog. You know, kill two subjects with one blog. You must know that I write airport bogs the moment they are happening. And I have to write them out with a pen, not electronically. Things just come better that way. I don't, however, do this for the time that I'm actually in the state I'm visiting. Otherwise they would probably be cooler.... or maybe they wouldn't... Anywho- enjoy...

FLYING TO VIRGINA:
I've got to stop doing these early morning flights out of Denver. It's one of the best airports for people watching but these early flights, one, make me way to tired to care about watching, and two, there isn't a ton of people to watch this early. I felt bad about being unsociable and facing the widow so I tried to wake myself up, by whistling. But what song came out of my mouth? Brahms Lullaby. Yep. I'm that cool. So as I was going through security they were checking everyones boarding pass, looking for something specific. That's a comforting thought, no? There isn't much to report on my flight to Midway, other than this person doing a complete bobble head. Oh, yeah, that's me. As we're landing there was a group of people talking and I hear one of the dad's pipe up referring to pacifiers falling on the ground, "With the first one you wash it off and disinfect it, with the second you lick it off, and with the third, you let the dog lick it." I feel the man speaks truth. As we're waiting to get off, all super patiently of course, there was this adorable, bald, round headed little tyke totally flirting with all the guys- raised eyebrows, grunts, coy looks and all.
It must be the time for sports teams to go traveling- I've seen no less than 11 matching tee shirt/ sweats groups pass by. And then there is this large group of college aged kids, guys dressed super nice with ties (no, not the white shirts with black ties, with a name tags pinned neatly to their pocket type of nice) and girls in skirts. I'm closish to MBBC and I so bad want to ask them the reason for the dress. I thought I was going through Saabreen withdrawal when I thought for sure I heard a collar jingle 3 times and couldn't find a dog to fit such noise. But I just heard 7 barks and I don't think humans that are barking in this said manner are allowed to stay long in airports, at least with out close supervision by men dressed in black with dark sunglasses. So I totally forgot to pack a pen in my carry on bag. You would think I would learn. You should see me covertly looking under chairs and in seat pockets for one. When I told mom I forgot a pen she asked if I had a knife so I could write in blood. Ummm....in an airport. Can someone please explain to my mommy why this would most likely not end pretty?? Ha! Just kidding. So I caved and went looking for pens in the airport. What can I say? Boredom and tiredness don't make me wise. But then I didn't feel right buying a $2 pen with a credit card so I got Pink Lemonade and yes, the pen was also pink. Dude, this dog better stop barking- He's making me want to go find him at all costs and I just know if I leave, my seat it will get stolen. It was with great trepidation that I left it to go find a pen. And yes, you better believe that I'm in the kids section watching cartoons (which are mainly super dumb and I don't even know them, except the good ol' Yogi Bear). It sounds a bit racist but I mean it in the nicest way, but you can tell that you're in IL. There's a much higher percentage of African Americans here. And they don't got that sweet southerner accent here. It's definitely like a gangsta twang, and it's oh so hard to remember that I'm from Colorado and I don't have an accent. Pity really. Do you ever kinda want to get a wheel chair, at the airport mainly, although other places might be cool? You get to go to the head of a lot of lines, and I mean, you don't have to walk and get lost. Am I right? Why is it all pilots are old? I mean I guess that means experience, right? Forgive my random musings. I'm kinda weird on no sleep. What's the proper seat manners in an airport? I mean, you give your seat to one elder person, when someone who needs it more just walks up....


VIRGINA:
Now that it's been so long since I've been there I'm not sure that I remember all of it too well. I do know it was a lot of later nights with earlier mornings. And really it was the mornings that got me, naturally, but it was worse with the 2 hour time difference. And since I don't remember the small details very well now, I will mainly tell of that time with pictures. I'm sure you will enjoy that better than my strange ramblings anywho. So here you go...

This is what happens when you try to frost cupcakes in a professional manner with frosting in a jar (except the other cupcakes that someone made the frosting for us)..... at least that's what happens when I try to do that.

Smiling away as she makes the poof balls....

Roderick made a nice little speech at the President's umm... thingy.... that ummm... we went to ummm... on Friday night.... you know before the graduation.... with only family there. What do they call that anywho?? And yes, he received an award too, but my camera was focused the lady's hair in front of me instead of Rod receiving it..whoops. It was nice hair...

 So the funny thing about this little balloon arch thing. It was so hot that the balloons kept popping but we never knew when that would happen. It was like having our own fireworks. And this table... we spent all day staging it  just right to fit everything perfectly on it. Yes, that's how my sister works.... it's kinda crazy but we love her. ;)

 Made them pause the mad panic (ha) to get a picture...
Check out these cookies. A friend from "downstairs" made them. And she made the frosting for the cupcakes (which was amazing). And I'm sure she did much more too. She was pretty cool. I mean, check out those cookies.  I have to note that the saturation on these pictures is not bumped up. The party was naturally this bright.

I have to say that this table was one of my favorite places to hang out. It was so bright and all the food on it was so awesome. It was a very photogenic table too....

 A sampling of the candy table. Every type of candy on the table was specifically chosen by Roderick, as he's kinda picky about the candy he eats. This table didn't have a chance to be "staged" as the time just ran away from us. It was quickly set up just minutes from the start of the party... But I think it was pretty cool... even if we were sweating bullets to get it out there. :)

I mean- how cool is this cupcake???

The theme was "It's So Sweet To Be Done." Laura's been planning this party for about a year- partly because that's the way she is but also to giver her something to do to help things out. No wonder it was pretty smooth and all the details were well thought out.

Yes- my very organized and detail orientated sister even thought of small toys, bubbles, and crayons (all of which matched her color scheme of course) for the small kids coming. I mean- seriously- who thinks of the tiny details like that? She's kinda cool that way.                                          

 And then the actual graduation....

 
The only proof that I was actually there. I'm a photographer- behind the photos, not in front.

 The graduate on stage...

 One of the hardest goodbyes for Laura (and probably Rod as well)....

 I will say that I was so glad to get back to the land of dry. And I was so glad that I had received an inhaler for the last cold that I got. It was seriously hard to breathe there. There was alot of errands, baking,  prep, eating, talking, decorating, sweating, playing, walking, laughing, cleaning, and even a freak intense rain storm the night before the party. But I believe all the goals were accomplished. And that pretty much sums up the Virgina part of things.

FLYING TO COLORADO:

So security is very small in Norfolk. I notice that there is a same lady with two little, cute, but a big handful boys and their grandparents are on my flight again. It's a bit harder going through security with young kids, and the littlest one, who happened to be wearing a batman shirt, started crying. One of the security guys said, "Hey man, Batman don't cry!" I wish I knew Batman that well. I mean- how else would he know that?The mom must have had at least a bit of a vacation though- she's super tan now. Ha! There's a lady talking Hunger Games on the phone beside me and I kinda want to jump in to correct some of her statements. Not that I'm a super Hunger Games nerd but I have read the books and I've got this thing when people tell things that are wrong. So I just write about it. lol. So this lady has this interesting book beside me. She keeps falling asleep so I get to read a page or two unnoticed. It's called Praying Effectively for the Lost by Lee E. Thomas. I find this a bit humours due to the fact that I'm missing part of my own church's prayer conference. It intrigues me. So I wasn't supposed to change planes this time but something was wrong at the airport and we had to switch planes. It was all okay because we got to board first and they had to hold everyone for the flight attendants anyways. But oh, let me tell you. I've regretted that plane change ever since. It was by far the worst experience flying ever. Not that there was turbulence. No, I'm all for turbulence. I wish there was more sometimes. You know, crank that epic cello music as you rock along. No, turbulence was not the cause of my distress. It was the fellow in the seat next to me. At first I reconciled his lack of understanding of personal space to a cultural difference. But after the sixth time he drank his ginger ale and rubbed his elbow up the crook of my arm I started getting seriously disturbed. And then there was this whole like hand on the armrest creeping toward my leg that made me jumpy. I was trying to be understanding as I did that whole pull-the-tray-out-and-rest-your-elbows-heavily-on-it-to-squish-his-hand move. But what really put me over was this like slow reach he was doing toward me at the very end. I don't think that was necessarily necessary. In fact I'm pretty sure it wasn't. And when he covertly looks at me out the corner of his eye (no direct eye contact was made) and then pretended indifference every time someone walked by in the isle, well, that just put me over the edge. I spent the last part of the flight sitting sideways in my seat jammed against the window pretending to read my book. At least I know what to do in a situation like that again. But let me tell you, if anything would have happened, even accidentally, that man would not have walked off that plane with a straight nose. It wasn't the greatest end to my travels.

And there you have it. My boringly, exciting trip to Virgina.

Learning martial arts,
Ti-Ti