Five Minute Friday: Friendship

Posted on April 26, 2013 by vanderbiltwife

I’ve cried a lot of tears over Chattanooga. Enough that my husband has asked me periodically if I wanted him to try to find a job back in Nashville. I think he’s mostly kidding or at least expects me to say no – although I don’t doubt he would try if I truly wanted to go back.

But my heart hurts for friends. I have lists of excuses. Everyone else here has their whole extended family. Everyone else grew up here. Obviously they don’t need me. They don’t need new friends.

But deep down I always feel like it’s just me. That I’m not good enough.

It took me a lot of years to feel like I had true friends in Nashville, and I miss them. I miss the camaraderie and Chili’s girl’s night out and sharing secrets and hopes and baby wishes and babies formed and born. I miss those new-bride friends, all of us unsure in our roles and making our way in life and marriage.

Finally – FINALLY – the last few weeks I feel like I’m starting to find my place here in this Scenic City. I’ve made a very good friend, one who is broken like me and not scared to admit it, who also happens to have a 4-year-old daughter whom Libbie loves.

I’m connecting more with people – a sweet blogging friend who’s become a close, real friend; some women who also live on this crazy campus. I’m realizing maybe the closest friends won’t be found where I expected to uncover them.

My soul thirsts for friendship and it’s starting to not be quite so parched. I’m refreshed.

STOP.

This week, Lisa-Jo asked for five minutes of writing on “friend” in honor of the (in)courage in real life meet-ups taking place this weekend. I’m excited to go to our local meet-up at Robin‘s house tomorrow!

What Was That about the Contingency Plan?

Posted on April 5, 2013 by vanderbiltwife

It’s been a year since our friend Mike, once my “future husband,” a groomsman in our wedding (yes, how’s that for irony?), the biggest smile I’ve ever met, killed himself.

I can’t erase the finding out, texting the news to my best friend (obviously I had lost my mind, how insensitive could one be?), watching the amazing funeral service via live stream on our giant-screen Mac next to my husband, blubbering.

We hadn’t seen Mike in years, we didn’t have any idea what was going on with him, but obviously he was an important person in the formative years of our relationship and thinking of him taking his own life haunted me for weeks. It still does, of course, but not to the same degree.

Just before then, I was writing gung-ho on my devotional. In February, after last year’s Blissdom, I wrote about canceling my contingency plan. I was writing fervently, convinced I could finish the composition in April and work on editing and design in May, hoping to release the e-book on May 26, 2012 … my 30th birthday.

Before April 4, the morning we found out, the words flowed freely. After, they stopped. I spent so much time haunted by nightmares and waking thoughts there was no room left for biblical peace to flow.

And then in July I got pregnant unexpectedly. And if you know me and this blog at all, you probably know that I am an absolutely miserable pregnant woman. The shock of the pregnancy, the sickness that followed, the attempt just to keep up with my other kids until Joshua was born on March 16th … it was all I could do.

During October I wrote 31 Days of The Book. It brought new air to me spiritually, and I usually found something to write about. But I also don’t want to recycle a lot of already-published posts for an e-book. I want at least half of it to be fresh.

And here it is, April again, with nothing but 7000 words in a Google doc titled “devotional” staring at me.

With Jeff Goins, whose blog and story have meant a lot to me the last year, I am forcing myself to shout I AM A WRITER. No matter how much it doesn’t feel true right now. Even in newborn exhaustion, sciatic pain, feelings of absolute psychosis … I am still a writer. It is what God made me. And I still want to finish this book and see where it goes. So much.

This and That

Posted on March 20, 2013 by vanderbiltwife

Who does Joshua look like? I’ve been saying Libbie. But now I think they’re either all carbon copies, or all babies just look the same.

—

It’s been brought to my attention by my mother that I have the easiest birth recovery ever, it seems. I wish I had some secret formula to market it, but here we go: I feel great. I don’t feel let-down. I don’t leak. I have very little trouble nursing (Joshua’s actually been the hardest one, and it took him about a day and a half to get it). I lose all the pregnancy weight immediately. And with my other two, I hardly even bled after I got home.

Apparently that’s all abnormal.

If I just liked being pregnant, having babies would be easy!

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Why is there real TV programming on at 3 a.m. but not 6 a.m.? Doesn’t 6 seem like a more reasonable time to be awake than 3?

I’ve watched a lot of Food Network.

—

Miss 4-year-old may never recover from all this excitement. Her decibel level has been raised 300%, mean-ness to David 400%, desire to obey is at -500%.

—

But all in all? Things are good.

This dude is seriously cute and sweet.

—

I’ll be running some guest posts over the next weeks, so stay tuned!

Leave Your Opinion at the Virtual Door

Posted on February 7, 2013 by vanderbiltwife

This post has been a long time coming. I don’t do a whole lot of ranting here, except about my crazy kids and bad mothering.

Nestle trip photo stolen from Amanda, because she loves me and I don’t think she will care.

But it all started a thousand Internet years ago when my sweet, pure-hearted friend Amanda went to the Nestle headquarters in California with a bunch of bloggers. They all came absolutely under attack by the mommy-blogging “community” (isn’t a community supposed to be a good thing?) for supporting Nestle when Nestle sells baby formula in third-world countries or something like that.

I was flabbergasted at the mean-spirited attack on them. I mean yes, you can have your opinions. No one is going to deny you that. But is it really worth hurting other people to express them in such a rude manner?

Since that day, I’ve wondered if social media doesn’t give us overinflated views of our own opinions.

Lately, I’ve noticed on Facebook several instances where a friend has asked a question and rather than answer the question, this person’s “friends” have responded by criticizing their choices.

One friend asked her page’s followers when they started swallowing pills, as she had discovered—from her own pediatrician—that her child was large and old enough to swallow a small adult painkiller or something of the sort.

I think 75% of the answers were, “Don’t you dare give your child any adult medicine! Or any medicine at all! You’re evil! You’re going to kill him!” Or, you know, something like that.

Um, is that what she asked?

Then yesterday I saw where another friend posted about trying to bake fluffy bread at home. She was asking for tips, and mentioned adding vital wheat gluten to the dough.

And again, half of the comments were “Gluten is evil! Gluten is bad for everyone!” One commenter compared gluten to soda in terms of health.

REALLY? I’m pretty sure she wasn’t asking for commentary on her health choices or whether or not she should be eating gluten-free. I was glad when my friend politely called out the commenter for being rude. She was nicer than I would have been, I think.

Look, friends. We all have our opinions on everything, whether you realize it or not. But just because social media allows us to put these opinions out there does not mean you have to supply an opinion, especially when it’s not solicited. I find that most of the time, feeling like you NEED to express your opinion on something at every turns shows an insecurity about your own choices and feelings. If something really gets you uptight, maybe you need to dig deeper into what your issue really is with that topic.

What I am not saying is that we shouldn’t condemn the ungodly, unbiblical things … although I don’t think social media is the place for that, either. Privately, with much prayer, confront those issues.

But as I’m pretty sure it doesn’t say anything about baby formula, gluten intolerance, or swallowing Advil in the Bible, could we maybe choose to let some things go every once in awhile? I think relationships should always win over feeling like you’re in the right.

What do you think?

Birds, Zen, and Me

Posted on November 7, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

It’s impossible to read what a writer has to say about writing and not want to read everything they’ve ever written. Or at least, I find it that way.

I was newly 19 when I worked at The Religious Herald, the newspaper of the Virginia Baptist Mission Board. I was astonished at the work I got to do there, writing front-page articles about multicultural Passover seders, 90-year-old revival ministers, and disaster relief work across the globe.

But what astonishes me more now, as I look back on it, was that the editor gave me a book to read on writing … and it had bad words. Remember, this is a Southern Baptist organization. We don’t say bad words, we don’t drink, and we don’t dance in the fellowship hall.

The book was Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott; which, despite its bad words (I still don’t say them, I promise), is the most inspiring book on writing I’ve ever read. Lamott is so down-to-earth, so truthful about publishing, and so wonderfully creative on her writing assignments. It helped that my beloved senior-year creative nonfiction professor also loved Lamott and encouraged us to read Bird by Bird. Which I did. Again.

And I’ve read it a time or two or five since then, too. Along with most of Lamott’s works on faith, which I find mainly true-to-life, challenging, and inspirational (and occasionally maddening, but that’s OK). I’ve read a couple of her fiction books as well as find them not nearly as intriguing, unfortunately. But whenever I see Anne Lamott’s name I’m drawn to it. Knowing her views on writing makes me feel like we know each other as writers. I’m sure her other billion Twitter followers feel the same way.

Right now I’m reading Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury. It’s over 30 years old and he talks about typewriters and science fiction a lot. His method for writing was almost a complete 180 from Lamott’s. But I still find his story fascinating, despite his slight self-involvement.

I was WAY too young when I read Fahrenheit 451. Amusingly, I just saw the Fahrenheit 451 play at the school where we live last week, about the same time I received this much-coveted book from PaperbackSwap after several years’ wait. Between seeing the play and the reading of Zen, I am eager to get my hands on the book … and everything else Bradbury wrote. I need to see his logic played out. I need to see his method in action.

I’m starting to feel like I know the slightly manic writing style of Bradbury … and thus, him. It’s crazy, but true.

I’ve said it before and I will never stop saying it: to be a writer, you must read. I wouldn’t suggest reading books on writing all the time, but consider them a reward from time to time. They’ll probably give you a million ideas of new books to read, and hopefully a few ideas of new things to write, too.

Day 24: UGH.

Posted on October 24, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

It’s day 24 and it’s the first day I’ve REALLY been tempted to cheat.

My kids are on “Fall Break,” which means no reprieve from parenting this week. No couple hours to myself. My daughter (we should just call her mini-me) has had 53 meltdowns this morning. I know she’s exhausted but she’s been fighting a nap for two hours, so somehow I don’t think she’s going to give in now. The rest of the afternoon should be SUPER with her not napping and in what we like to call her “Attitudey Judy” mood.

I’m pregnant, tired, have piles of work not to mention housework, and yet all I really want to do is lay on the couch with a heating pad on my knotted-up shoulder and read a magazine or a fluffy novel. Not think.

That’s been the hardest part of this, I think – no escape. Reading some light is my happy place, my escape pod from parenting two tiny ones and being pregnant with a third. Introvert Mama just needs her half an hour to pretend she’s anywhere but here.

Reading the Bible just doesn’t do that. It makes me reflect and think. It makes me consider what I could do better, what’s wrong in how I view Jesus, and oh for the love of everything how awful I am at parenting compared to our Heavenly Father.

Is it OK to want to escape? I really don’t know.

Five Minute Friday: Grasp

Posted on September 28, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

To understand this, you must know how much I detest cleaning. I am the world’s worst housewife, I’m pretty sure. Given that I have a preschooler and a toddler, I like to blame the mess on them, but really … our homes were messy before kids.

It’s just not my default.

So today, I was virtuous. I vacuumed multiple rooms in our apartment. I washed floor rugs. And I cooked my precious, lovely children lunch. And by that, I mean breaded chicken patties from a freezer bag. Which are apparently breaded with something that makes ALL THE BREADING FALL OFF IMMEDIATELY.

And since my kids eschewed the chairs they were supposed to have lunch in … and since I had a cold and am 15 weeks pregnant and was playing some stupid game online …

My newly vacuumed floor had chicken crumbs all. over. it.

Grasping for straws, people. That is what cleaning in a house with little people is like. I’m bad enough by myself (um, hello people who have seen my dorm room?).

What is that quote? That cleaning with children in the house is like shoveling during a snowstorm?

Captain Destruction: Don’t let his sweet smile fool you.

_______

Sometimes on Fridays, I write for 5 minutes along with a lot of other people at Lisa Jo’s place. This week’s theme was Grasp.

I Don’t Think Being an Introvert Is a Bad Thing.

Posted on September 4, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

source: sadsadsadie

I heard a talk show on the radio recently where they were talking about introverts and extroverts. And it really bothered me. One of the speakers talked about being an introvert “but getting better.” The host used the word philosophical about 18 times in the span of 2 minutes as a way to describe his introvert ways.

Basically they came at it from the viewpoint of extrovert good, introvert bad. Being an introvert obviously means you hate people, being around people, and have to force yourself to talk to people.

I really don’t think this is true at all. I’m certainly no expert, but I do have 30 years’ experience in introvert ways. I think it all comes down to how you process.

source: tekbassist

Introverts process internally, while extroverts process externally. Introverts recharge with alone time, while extroverts recharge in a crowd or group of friends.

Are either of these things inherently bad? I certainly don’t think so.

Both have their ups and downs, in my opinion. Sincerely needing alone time is difficult when you’re a parent of small children. I think that’s why I can get so frustrated after a day at home alone with the kids while some moms may be able to carry on for days without a second thought. When I can’t collect my thoughts and spend time considering why I am angry, why I react the way I do, etc, the frustrations really build up.

What I want people to know, though, is that being an introvert does NOT mean I hate people or dislike being around people! I strike up conversations with people at the grocery store or the park. I love to dig down and hear people’s real stories.

But I do NOT make small talk easily. I don’t just talk to talk. Which is probably why being in a huge crowd of people I don’t know is enough to make me want to go dive under my covers. I have trouble making friends, I think, because maybe I come on too strong. I will tell anyone anything.

Which is probably why I blog. I can process first, or as I write. And I can tell you anything without any notion of small talk. So there.

So yeah. Some days I wish I were a little more extroverted, but not many. I think it’s OK to be an introvert, and I’m sorry there are people out there who don’t think that.

What do you think? Are you introvert or extrovert?

Introvert’s Ode to Quiet

Posted on August 19, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

I’m not sure I ever understood those moms who still had time for the slow arts once they had children: knitting, crochet, cross-stitch, painting.

Too much bustle and hustle. Too many small hands to take apart the work you’ve done. Too many other things to take care of during any downtime.

At almost 4 and 20 months, Libbie and David are starting to go off and play on their own. As long as there aren’t screams I’m generally not too worried. But it doesn’t make for quiet or peace. As long as one of them is awake, it’s almost always loud here. Little voices, singing and shouting and make believing. TV blaring. Lots of asking and demanding and crying.

So when there is any down time, I crave quiet.

I think it’s why I’ve shied away from blogging recently. When I have 10 minutes, I don’t desire to make social connections, Tweet or Facebook as much as I have in the past. Most of the time, I just want to close my eyes and give into the fatigue generated by the grape-sized being in my uterus. And if not, I just want to sit. Recenter my introverted self.

So lately I’ve been drawn to some of those same crafts I’ve eschewed in my mothering years. I used to crochet quite a bit. Yesterday I picked up some new yarn and a pattern for the first time in ages. It’s a baby sweater … likely a gift. Time intensive. But seeing the beauty come together from simple yarn and loving finding a sunsoaked corner to sit in and craft quietly makes it completely worth the effort.

I’m training myself that even when they’re awake, I can steal a few moments to single crochet, a pretty mindless endeavor. Again, the recentering. The few minutes of still instead of laundry and dishes and who knows what else. Everything needs to be done. But I need to think.

It’s much easier to see the glory in every day when your mind has some places of quiet, isn’t it?

Free to Be Me

Posted on July 16, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

I’m glad to say that, 3+ years later, I feel even more comfortable in my own skin. And also that I text now … not for the need to be more connected, but because sometimes that’s the only way to get people to answer.

_________________

As I was coming home from the gym last night (and yes, it’s the first time in months I’ve been able to say that. I swam some during my pregnancy, but that was it. It’s one of my bigger regrets and next pregnancy I will try to stay more in shape. Not that I was in shape in the first place.)

Um, where was I?

Oh, yes. I was driving home last night, feeling a throbbing pain on the back of my left heel. I’d worn my ankle brace because I have this tendency to hurt myself, particularly at the Y. My ankle is still healing up from its last sprain and I really did not care to wipe out on the treadmill in front of those bodybuilding guys who I am SURE are always laughing at how fat and out-of-shape I am.

I am an Observer by nature, and although I spent my time on the treadmill watching Good Eats (really, WHO watches Food Network while working out? I’m an idiot), I was also watching those around me. The guy beside me holding onto the side rails of his treadmill and doing a funny walk. The skinny elliptical girls. In my plain sight were two girls doing stretches and ab exercises on floor mats–and taking breaks to text on their phones. (Texting kinda baffles me. I don’t feel the need to be that connected to people, I guess.)

Anyway, the drive home. Right. I was annoyed at myself for wearing a blister into my heel. Earlier last night, I looked down at my foot and said, “I’m bleeding.” I didn’t know how it happened. I’m constantly noticing bruises on my legs from unknown sources. I fall down. I guess I’m just a klutz.

I wondered, driving, what it would be like to be somebody who did not do these things. Someone “cool.” Maybe an elliptical girl, skinny–which I have never been–and someone who doesn’t go to bed at 9 p.m., doesn’t feel like she always wears the wrong thing to work, and doesn’t randomly hurt herself on a consistent basis.

Really, most of the time, I’m OK with being plain old awkward me. I just wonder what’s it like to be on the other side. Do you know? Maybe nobody thinks they’re cool. Maybe everyone deals with the same sense of insecurity.

I’m learning. Learning to be me. Learning that it’s not so bad after all. Mr. V loves me the way I am, all kinds of crazy and everything. Libbie seems to like me (or at least my, ahem, chest). I have great friends, wonderful family, all who don’t seem to run away when I come near them. And most of all, I have a Father who seems to adore me no matter how much I screw up. In fact, He promises it.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

Photo courtesy of Garrison Photo via Stock Exchange