Thanksgiving Greetings from the Sunshine State! Sorry I haven't updated sooner, but I was out of commission yesterday. Slept for 24 hours straight - not by choice :-( We're all well now, I think. Very, very afraid to say that...
Join me for a day at Magic Kingdom; there are lots of pics, so this one is truly for the interested. Otherwise, I might lose you before we're too far out of the parking lot...
This is how we spent our Monday.
:-)
I wrote this post last weekend on a road trip to Clemson, but time constraints and computer issues have delayed its posting. Here's what was on my brain...
Orange!
Chris and I have brought our girls to their first Clemson experience. I sit here illuminated only by the light of the computer screen while my sweet fam is tuckered out in the two double beds of our hotel room (thank you, Starwood points).
I graduated from Clemson in 1995, and, for me, there is no other place like it. My first year there was the worst year of my entire life, and I tried my dead-level best to transfer to Wofford – all to no avail. I didn’t adapt well to being a minnow in an ocean, but it was good for me in some ways. It was awful for me in others, but I digress. Hundreds of poor choices aside, I came to love this place! As I drive through intersections and step in my own footsteps from those years and as I remember certain booths and sandwiches from favorite restaurants, I can easily slip back into her. For moments at the time I can walk in the past. This campus is my fountain of youth. My body instinctively hunches over under the burden of my brown suede bag and my calves burn in the car just remembering the hill to Clemson House. My hair grows inches by the minute and my stomach growls for pizza and Taco Bell. I stroll by buildings and hear thirteen year-old conversations and lectures. I see places, and detailed memories of mundane experiences roll on my screen. I never knew the clock on Tillman Hall is pointless; time doesn't exist here.
I'm in an orange state of mind...
Chris says, "Go Dabo!"
Okay, I am counting it all joy that the computer trial is almost over. Thought I would update you on my technology situation.
It turns out that computer crashes are not an urban myth, as I once thought. Who knew? :-)
The old one was definitely toast - not one picture or song was retrievable. I do have most of my pics uploaded to Shutterfly, and I have some ipod stuff on discs, buy it is takin' a while to get everything back in working order on the new hunk of burnin' love...
Introducing (drum roll)... Lil' Joy (Chris named her).
I did get a laptop - not a Mac - but it's certainly a new day with a portable, wireless set-up. Lovin' it! In fact, I am blogging (with the help of Chris' wireless card) as we drive down the road - best way to spend hours of riding time! I am currently still loading picture software, phone software, downloading printer drivers, resaving Favorites and passwords, etc...
Many of you have shared your motivation to preserve your stuff after my misfortune. I'm glad I could help. This is where I'm suppose to wax selfless and say that if I helped just one person it was worth it. Well, it wasn't. Hey, I'm not there yet, but my therapist says I'm making progress :-)
Hurts :-( I value truth. I am not always jazzed about the truth, and I often can't swallow it very easily. But I do try to be sensitive and open to encounters with it - even when its taste is offensive and bitter.
Monday was one of those days where I had a week's worth of obligations crammed into one day - all fun stuff that I was excited to do but still just one of those days when life and circumstances and responsibilities ask a lot of you. I am sad to say that I can even sweat the fun stuff. So when I have to go without an interval of collection and reflection during the day, I am a terror. Hence, on these occasions I judiciously limit interaction with others. Unfortunately my fam doesn't enjoy that option. On Monday the girls and I were a train wreck. We sassed each other; we spoke sharply and negatively; we were eating each other alive. And I just found myself at a complete loss for what to do. The girls weren't obeying me; they were yelling at each other non-stop, and I was doling out punishments left and right. I was at a loss...
Out of pure desperation, I asked the girls to come sit with me in the floor to pray - during which time I began to cry. If they thought I was nuts, they didn't say so, but things improved after that. Tuesday was phenomenally better! I praised Carson at bedtime for her improved attitude, and you know what she said to me. She said, "You just needed to get it together and then we would." Oh, yes she did...
I patiently retracted my compliment, addressed her insubordination, and accepted her apology. But it was not until this morning when I was asking God for the grace and the patience and the forgiveness and the wisdom to parent today that I realized that Carson had nailed me with truth last night. Though her tone and intentions were disrespectful and unappreciated, she was dead on. She spoke truth to me, and I will choose to receive it.
I taught high school long enough to know that on days I walked in with a crummy attitude it was invariably reciprocated by my students. I set the tone for interaction in my classroom. I set the tone for interaction within my family.
That's not to say that I won't totally bomb tomorrow, but at least I can come at this issue with a little different perspective.
Ah yeah, sometimes the truth does hurt...
Warning: Long post ahead! Below I have posted my article for the Friends and Family issue of SHE Magazine.
Now, I am under the impression that the days of family reunions with Grandma Beulah’s fried chicken and Aunt Maxine’s cheek squeezing may be drawing to a close. Not because we don’t so cherish those hours spent reminiscing about the days when we were knee high to a grasshopper but because of distance and time constraints. Fortunately, this is not really the case with my family yet, but more and more I have friends who live great distances from their families. As fewer and fewer Sally Seniors return to their Mayberry after college and as couples accept life as transients in the pursuit of career aspirations, it seems that the cohesion of the extended family is compromised. People just get the heck out of Dodge – headed for their own wide open spaces – leaving the ole’ home place and Cousin Clementine in the dust.
For the most part, families aren’t building the dream home on the hill with all the aunts, uncles, and cousins galore. I’m not sure why they’re not (pursed grin accompanied by raised eyebrow), but they’re not. I am absolutely fascinated by some interesting concepts that have arisen to fill in some of those familial gaps.
In the absence of dinner at Momma’s house every Thursday night, people surround themselves with their peeps. This is certainly not a new idea, but I would argue that meaningful friendships for adults have taken on greater significance as family is less of an everyday presence. That’s not to say that family is at all less important; it’s just an observation that people have greater need for friends when their family isn’t nearby. Can you say Bunco groups, supper clubs, MOPS (Mother of Preschoolers), playgroups, and home groups? Although I am super blessed to have an aunt living in my very neighborhood, a cousin and his family down the road, and my mom only about thirty-five minutes away, I personally know the value of a home group. Chris and I were part of one for two years; we met every Monday night. We’d all straggle in after school and work and T-ball and dance; we’d grab a bite to eat, send the cherubs upstairs with two sitters, and we would converge upon the living room where we would share, pray, and crack our Bibles together. When we began, we were all kind of church homeless, but over the course of two years we saw God do some amazing work through this group of friends. We saw one member give her life to Christ and tell her unbelieving family about her new life; we were allowed to minister to another who was going through a divorce and to love on two sweet friends as they moved away from us. We were able to support and encourage each other as we quietly listened for divine direction. We felt the chapter close on this group at the conclusion of this past summer – as we had all found our places in local fellowships: Trinity EPC, Ebenezer Baptist, and NewSpring Florence. It was time to roll up our sleeves, dig in, and plant where He instructed. Though our Monday nights are no longer spent together in the Cawthon living room, those peeps still have our backs – no doubt!
So people are physically congregating in small groups, and they are virtually connecting through Internet vehicles like Facebook and blogging. Now, this is where it really gets fun! I’m sure most of you know, but Facebook is a social networking site where you have a very good chance of hooking up with Sue Ellen Salisbury, your BFF from seventh grade who moved to Wasilla twenty years ago. It’s also your ticket for reconnecting with dear Clementine and seeing regularly updated photos of her three precious (and precocious) daughters. Contrary to what some may believe, it is quite secure (I grant and deny access to my information as I so choose). It’s also free, so get out there and take it for a spin. It’s kind of like cruising Main Street back in the day. Go see who there is to see, and definitely go be seen! And having a friend request pop into your inbox is so similar to the love notes of elementary school (Will you be my friend? Check yes or no)…
Now blogging is my thing. A blog is a weblog where a person writes regularly, posts pictures, shares funny stories, embeds videos and songs, etc… I have seen this used as a fabulous tool for allowing grandparents to see their cuties on a daily basis, even when they live nine hundred miles away. My mother-in-law, my sister-in-law, and an out-of-town cousin (no, not Clementine) read my blog on a regular basis, and I can unequivocally say that it has enhanced our relationships. They are allowed to peek into my brain, peek into my day, and Ms. Lillian even commented that it helps her to know how to pray for us. How cool is that? It’s also a fantastic way to keep up with friends, local and distant. I don’t delight in talking on the phone, and I especially don’t enjoy talking on the phone with youngsters underfoot. Blogging is my half of a phone conversation; it’s what I have to say about what’s going on in my world. And I can share it with numerous people at once. It can also be very interactive with readers commenting or emailing their responses. Blogging is my cheap hobby and my creative obsession. Isn’t it amazing the speed at which things change around us? Yet one of the most basic of our needs remains unchanged; we crave connection with each other – family and friends.
So, get yourself on the information super highway and take a Sunday drive over to Aunt Maxine’s Facebook page; she may have her famous mac and cheese recipe posted that will help you carry on the family tradition…
So here I sit. As I do every Thursday. It's dancing day. And we have dancing from 2:30-5:30 with one thirty-minute break in the middle that requires mom supervision. It's my least fave day because I feel like I "waste life" each week as I try to quickly dash to run an errand here and there with three year-old in tow and get back before jazz class ends. Then four of us cram into the car (we have a friend with us) and munch snacks and watch about fifteen minutes of a movie, swap shoes, and run back in for ballet. It's so fragmented and chaotic, headache-inducing, and unproductive. I take a healthy overdose of Extra-Strength Tylenol before we leave the house and try to roll with it.
Today we ended up with two overturned cans of soda, one monkey who scrambled to the back of the car refusing to get out for ballet, and one sitting helplessly in the middle totally unable to find her shoes (yep, she's mine).
There's really nothing that awful about it; it's just that everything about it is so contrary to what I prefer.
So today, as I wait, I half-heartedly mourn the untimely death of my desktop hard drive. Frizzled. Frazzled. Fried. Though its unexpected passing has me concerned about my i-Tunes library, hundreds of pics, and many Word documents that have not been responsibly backed-up, the hubster's flippant mention of a laptop has me not so heartsick after all.
'Cause then I could blog and stalk during the dancing wait. Though my posts might turn into the dancing doldrums every week. So, consider yourself forewarned. If the laptop comment does come to fruition (doubtful at best), you may want to skip reading on Thursday :-)
So, what do you really do when you have to wait and don't want to "waste life"?
I may have stepped into an antbed of controversy on this one, so restrain your knee-jerk reaction as I delve into the essence of gray. I know, I know - touchy subject. At the root of gray there are two fundamental controversies that divide people the world over:
1) Is it even a color (since it is born out of the non-colors black and white)?
2) How in the world do you spell it (I actually prefer grey, but what do I know?)?
I know, now you're all hot and bothered that I went there; stick with me.
I love gray.
I don't really wear a lot of gray, and I don't really have any gray in my house, but it's my favorite time of day. I love the gray of day - just before dawn and right at dusk. One of my favorite, favorite things is to sit in my house during the gray with blinds open. No lights burning. No sound disrupting - except the whir of the heater (I never notice the air conditioner running during the summer, but my heater speaks comfort into my morning). Everything in the room looks gray and nondescript - even me. I can just fade into my surroundings and ponder and pray and disappear for a moment.
I usually miss the gray at dusk, and I don't always catch the gray at dawn, but when I do, it's always a little something special.
Highly recommend that you schedule some gray into your day sometime soon!
What up, peps!
Well, it seems that I have turned into more of a blog reader/stalker than a blogger these days. I can't believe that I haven't kept you well-apprised of my November 8 plans. I prepared for this past Saturday for over a month. I studied. I read. I nerded out in a big way for (da-da-da-dum)
THE BLOG PARTY in ATL!
It was sooooooooooooooooooooo much fun that I am bummed that it's over! But let me back up and break it on down since I haven't at all set the scene.
A good while ago Whittaker Woman announced she was hosting a blog party where bloggers could come and meet each other. She featured each blogger who would be attending on her site (a picture, an intro, and a link to the blog), and the conversation began. We started reading and commenting on each other's blogs as we anticipated our face-to-face encounter. It was completely wild to walk into a room of about forty people where I knew four. But knew the names, faces, and pretty intimate stuff about each of the other people present (like Ruthie's hand sanitizer incident, Robin's Thanksgiving pictures, 100 things about Michelle, Kayla's experience at a house church, Kyle and Allison's fondness for each other :-), Karen's involvement in Operation Christmas Child, etc...). It was a most singular experience, electric and energizing and just fun! fun! fun!!
Tammi, Erika, Vanessa, and I made a girls' weekend of the trip, and it was just fun! fun! fun! Wooo Hooo is about all I can say...
We blog partied.
Michelle
Ruthie, Robin, Kayla, Marren, Kyle, Allison, and Jenn
Flo-town crew with Jacinda and Heather
Scoot on over to this site and check out some of my new blog friends; you're in for a treat.
Wooo hooo!
What a cool, cool privilege to go out as a country and cast our votes today! I do love voting although I have to admit it only took me about thirty-five minutes at 2:00, so that may have something to do with my sustained enthusiasm. I don't know though, because there was such a neat vibe among the voters as we queued through the interior of the fire station: two lines to check-in and one line for voting. One of my favorite parts of the experience was that whoever was the last person in the voting line had to hold up a handmade sign that read "END" for others to be able to easily find the end of the line. As new prospective voters lined up, you passed the sign on down the line. So cute and humble and brilliant, I thought.
As a high school teacher, I taught a class called Strategies for Success. It was required for all freshmen, and it was a super duper (dooper?) class. I've taught in places where the required freshman class was a bad joke, but this was the real honkin' deal. The class curriculum was built on Stephen Covey's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (phenomenal book!), and we spent a concentrated chunk of time on Myers-Briggs personality testing. It was through my preparation for this course that I learned a ton about myself - I am an INFJ if that means anything to you.
The I in INFJ means that I am an introvert - a borderline introvert. I remember being surprised by the results, but my introvert/extravert numbers were very close. An introvert (as described by M-B) may really enjoy being with people, but he/she is left drained by a lot of interaction. Conversely, an extravert is energized by interaction. As a speaker/teacher I am loud, animated, and constantly moving, and nothing in all the earth energizes me like that! But that is still limited interaction. When greeting at church and in certain social situations I can be charged up by interaction, but for the most part I derive energy from being alone.
Another characteristic of an introvert is the tendency to think before speaking; extraverts think and process as they speak. I have often missed opportunities to contribute in conversations or discussions because I was chewing too long on what to say (some of you are not buying it, but it is so...). I have gotten way better at this over time, but there was a time when I could not participate in a conversation with several real extraverts. I wasn't fast enough. In fact, in college I took a Spanish placement test as a freshman and landed in junior level Spanish. I could read and write the language well, but this was a class where only Spanish was spoken. My professor would call on me to answer rapid-fire questions, and I would choke every time. If I am a borderline introvert in English, I am an off-the-chart introvert in Spanish. I couldn't think through what I wanted to say quickly enough to answer her questions. I made an office visit in tears, and she was so kind. She stopped calling on me in class :-)
So all of this has me thinking how great blogging is for introverts. It doesn't require face-to-face interaction; it allows time to process before broadcasting, and there isn't competition for getting a word in quickly enough. So, that led me to wonder how many I's out there are enjoying the accommodations of blogging?
What are you? An innie or an outie?
And one more thing, I find myself becoming more extraverted as I age, and Chris (who was a strong E is becoming more introverted). Any ideas on how that happens?
