What size are you?

This summer I started taking ballet classes.  Call it an early midlife crisis if you'd like, I've just always wanted to dance and while I had the extra time this summer I figured why not.  I loved every one of those classes, I may not have been able to walk most days this summer, but ballet was oh so much fun and totally worth the pain.  Fast forward to August when my teacher told us she wouldn't be returning for the fall.  Devastated, I frantically searched the web for classes that wouldn't break the bank or the Uebel portfolio. I struck gold when I found a dance company at VT that offered free public ballet classes.

So a couple weeks later I met some friends outside the dance studio and with locked arms and trembling knees we walked in.  Just inside the lobby at least twenty girls were stretching, changing into tights and slippers, and chatting away.  I introduced myself and promptly found an open spot on the floor where I started stretching as long and hard as I possibly could.  The problem with this is I DON'T KNOW HOW to stretch.  I was copying what the girl next to me was doing, what the girl in front of me was doing, and even the girl behind me when I happened to look that way.  Normally I hate stretching, I roll my eyes at Nic if he even suggests we do it before a run.  But this particular night I could've been Gabby Douglas prepping for the vault. Yes, I was that intense.

Why?  Because the 19 other girls in that room were doing the exact same thing and I was not about to be the only one not doing it.  Especially since I was probably 10 years older than some of the girls in that room.  *Did I mention my class this summer was a bunch of late-20, 30, and 40 somethings?*  It was like I was back in middle school all of the sudden and I would say or do anything just to fit in.  What in the world?  I'm 28 years old and I'm suddenly having an identity crisis??

I think there's a little bit of that terrified, nail biting middle schooler in us all.  Even the most independent, confident of women.  We start to size each other up the minute we walk in a room.  "She's so pretty, I can't talk to her.  She's super smart, she wouldn't like me.  Her voice sounds like an angel, she's too good for me."  It's like we create some kind of ranking system in our head and we can only talk to the people who rank near us on our scale.  So if you happen to think yourself a 10 then you could talk to anybody in the room.  But if you're just a 3 you're going to spend the rest of the night trying to earn everybody else's respect and attention.

I used to think guys had it rough.  I heard Nic say once that guys are always in competition with each other (the following is his example by the way).  "Dude, my dog kicked me in the groin today" "Oh man that's nothing, last year my dog kicked me so hard it ended up on America's Funniest Home Videos."  As stupid as it may be, at least they vocalize it.  We ladies keep it all inside, hoping no one figures out where we rank on the scale, so we pull every muscle known to man because we want to seem like we know what we're doing. 

So what do we do?  One dance class and a few months later I realize my identity isn't quite as formed as I thought it was.  And somewhere sits my middle school self just waiting for her spotlight to come around again.     

Santa's Little Helper

I wrote this for my local MOPS group newsletter and since the blog has been a bit quiet lately I thought I might share.  We went up to NYC along with my parents for Thanksgiving this year and had a very memorable blast!  I'll try to post pictures from our adventure soon.

Christmas always finds some way to stress me out.  Or maybe it’s the other way around really.  It seems like I look at my calendar and to-do lists for the month and have an absolute meltdown.  I get so hung up on all the things I need to do that I can’t enjoy them when they’re actually happening.  I get so frustrated at myself every time, yet somehow every year those same feelings seem to surface. 

I somehow doubt I’m alone in this either.  In fact, in a survey taken back in 2006 the research group Greenberg Quinlan Rosner found that 38% of Americans report an increase of stress during the holidays.  And women disproportionately feel that stress!  Now that I have a little one in my house I certainly don’t want to project that stress on to her (which by the way ends up happening A LOT).  So what is a girl to do?

For starters I’m trying to let go a little bit.  You see I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so if all the Advent calendars aren’t ready to go by December 1 or all my presents aren’t Pinterest crafty I tend to freak out a little bit.  Something Dr. Diane Jones-Freeman said at our last meeting though has been bouncing around in my head the past couple of days: “I don’t have a perfect life but I have a good one.”  I’m not King Midas and I don’t have a golden touch.  In fact as I was recently reminded by a parody of this old fairytale on Sesame Street, I don’t want the golden touch.  So this holiday season I’m hoping to breathe a little easier.  And enjoy a few extra Peppermint Oreos while I’m at it!

Five Minute Friday...Look

Well after a considerable break around these parts I thought it might be about time to break the silence.  I've been experiencing a good bit of writers block lately- I think about blogging but then I don't know what to blog about.  Pair that with the busiest time of a year for a campus minister and you get two months of nothing.  So to break the silence I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for a Five Minute Friday-no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.  This week's topic....Look.

It doesn't take much effort to look around outside this time of year.  It's peak season for all the brilliant colors of fall and man are they beautiful.  I'm constantly reminded of how beautiful this place we live in is.  Sometimes if you catch a view of the mountains from just the right angle it looks like they're on fire.  And of course I would be lying if I didn't mention how those last few words make me think of Katniss, I digress. 

It's so easy to take the beauty of nature for granted.  I walk the same paths every week, I drive on the same roads every day, I see the same trees outside my window every morning.  But sometimes it takes a change to make me actually LOOK at something new, as if for the first time.  I think what I'm saying there is sometimes change isn't always a bad thing.  And I really can't believe I just wrote that sentence because change does not come easy to this girl.  I remember when my parents sold the smoke puffing, wood paneled mini-van that I was often mortified to ride in I collapsed into a heap on the front lawn as the new owner drove away.  Was I really that sad to see it go?  Probably not, but it meant change was coming.  And it always does, whether I'm ready for it or not.   

Midweek Confessions

My mid-week confessions are a day late this week.  I blame the nice weather.  Better late then never though!

- Last time I wrote I bragged about feeling like a "real runner" since I would continue my training even while on vacation.  Well it certainly wasn't all the glitz and glamor I imagined it to be.  Somebody slap me the next time I start bragging about that.

- Speaking of running, while in Texas one of my runs was outside.  Our hotel was right on Lake Grapevine so the trail went through some "marshy" territory.  All I could think was "Do they have alligators in Texas?"  When I got back to the room one of my roommates informed me that they don't have alligators but they do have rattlesnakes and scorpions.  Sweet Lord, do all Texans carry around a shotgun with them to ward off such creatures?

- I was a bit nervous about flying last week.  It had been almost three years since my last flight and I was just a bit uneasy about it all.  In my desperate need for control AT ALL TIMES I found myself mumbling "ok boys, get us out of here" every time we would hit a patch of turbulence.  Since when did I go to flight school?  I also felt a strange urge to give the pilots a high-five when exiting the aircraft.  I restrained myself.

- I met one of my favorite bloggers, Lisa-Jo Baker, last week at MOPS Convention.  I talked to her after her seminar and even tweeted (*this is when you use Twitter to communicate with someone mom, sort of like a text*) at her, thanking her.  The fact that she replied to that tweet may or may not have been the highlight of my day.

- Sometimes when I'm in the middle of doing something I'll stop and think about how I'm going to phrase a tweet describing said something.  Then, when I'm finished and ready to tweet I get annoyed at myself because I can't remember how the phrase went.  Does this make me pathetic or narcissistic?  Please don't answer that question.  
 

Midweek Confessions

Sorry for the huge gap in between posts.  I've noticed a lot of the other blogs I follow have also had longer than normal pauses that they blame on the lack of structure during summer so I'm doing the same.  I've also had trouble thinking of things to blog about so suggestions are welcome :).  Anyways, here are a few Midweek Confessions.

 - I signed up for my first half marathon this week and the thing I'm most excited about, actually happens next week.  I'm headed to the MOPS Convention in Dallas next week & I'm so excited because I'll finally get to look like a "real runner" since I'll have to run in the hotel fitness center to stay on track with my training schedule.  I know, we'll save my self confidence issues for another day!

-The olympics may or may not have inspired me to sign up for said half-marathon. 

- Speaking of self confidence issues, Nic & I have been eating healthier the past few weeks and when we have a good day it takes everything in me not to post all about it on Twitter.  Obviously I failed just now.

-Thanks to a podcast I listened to this morning I've been thinking about the age old question, do I take myself too seriously?  In an attempt to "lighten up" I started singing in the car tonight.  At every stoplight I would stop and look at the person beside me and wonder "Do they think I'm crazy?"  I think I know the answer to my question. 

-I'm obsessed with ampersands.  Like thinking of becoming an ampersand knick-knack collector.  Who does that (but seriously if you find out let's talk because I want to find out where they get all their goods)?

Happy 4th of July (a day late)!

I know, I've been terrible at this whole blogging thing lately.  I say I'm making a comeback and then I actually retire.  It's like I'm Brett Favre or something (well, I guess really the opposite of 'ole Brett).  Anyways, I will be back soon, but for now here's a picture of my own little firecracker celebrating the 4th!

My Three: Day three

I'm closing out this series today, at least with the first question.  Sometime in the next few weeks I hope to answer another of Orange Dad's questions.  I know this is obvious but I want to be sure I say it, there are a TON of people who have invested in me and influenced me along the way.  I'm pretty sure if I wanted to, I could write a post every day for the next year and not have any repeats (well maybe, I'm not sure I have that many friends, unless we're talking Facebook friends where I have 883 of them).  It was quite difficult to narrow it down to three so thank you to all those people who have left an impact on my life, big or small.  So without further adieu...

(Yes, I am in fact dressed as an eight ball.  I was 7 months pregnant with Sadie and wanted to take full advantage of my bowling ball of a stomach at Halloween!)

Meet my friend Melissa Cheliras.  I had always heard people talk about Melissa but never actually met her till the summer we moved back to Blacksburg to work at BCM.  Then, not only did I meet her but I got to work with her, and in campus ministry this means you spend a lot of time together, especially during those first few weeks of school.  

One thing you saw in Melissa from the moment you met her was her zeal for God and life.  She found joy in both of those things, in everything she did.  Whether it was cracking me up at a Zumba class, inviting me to hang out at the river and "rest", or watching a movie with me while Nic was at school so I wouldn't be lonely, her passion and enthusiasm were contagious.  That gal lived life to the fullest and she challenged me to do the same.  When she was dancing she saw the creativity of God at work, when she was in India celebrating the wedding of a friend she saw God in the faces of the people surrounding her, when she was meeting with a student, who was broken and felt hopeless, she brought hope and restoration right there in the middle of campus. 

If I ever learned anything about loving people and bringing Jesus to the world, it was from her.  I would always be amazed sitting across the booth from Melissa at staff meeting as her "notepad of names" continued to grow.  She kept a running list of people she wanted to contact/hang out with and as we would mention someone at staff meeting she'd add them to her list.  The funny thing was, she would actually contact them.  It didn't matter how long it'd been since she last saw them or how "awkward" it might make her feel- she loved that person and more importantly Jesus did too and they needed to know it.   

When Melissa started to get sick I talked to her a few times over the phone.  I wasn't really sure what to ask her or even where to begin but she would always answer my questions with such grace and then say "I want you to know I've been praying for you and your family.  Are there any ways in particular I can pray for y'all?"  Talk about being humbled.  Here she was in the middle of fighting cancer and she cared about me.  Typical Melissa, she always was about caring for others above herself, it's almost as if somebody had told her to do that :).  It didn't matter what she was doing, if someone needed something, she would stop the world to get to them.  Thank you Melissa for showing me that.  Thank you for teaching me what it means to love selflessly and to love well.  So much of what I do in college ministry is wrapped up in how you did college ministry and for that I am eternally grateful.  You are greatly missed friend.