My Part to Play This 'Holiday' Season

Today's post is simple.

In the last several weeks my Facebook feed and television have been bombarded with posts and stories regarding two topics: 1.) Christmas and 2.) Some very controversial decisions being made by our justice system. I've seen all of your posts/feedback/opinions...here are my thoughts....I'm going to get a little John Lennon on you for a moment....stick with me.

 I see this as MY role to play in this chaotic time in our world. When there are supposed to be 'silent nights' and instead we're watching tears and violence and rage and abound. If you want to know my opinion...this is it. I am going to LOVE you. I'm going to LOVE my neighbors. I'm going to LOVE the patient lady who checks me out at Safeway every week. I'm going to LOVE that lady who cut me off in Saturday traffic. I'm going to LOVE those who I may not fully understand....because that is what true LOVE does. And I think a little LOVE can do our hurting world some immense good. Call me an idealist, but it never hurts to try.

(These thoughts didn't originate from me, but rather from one of my most favorite books.)

L.O.V.E

Love is patient....and love is kind.

Love isn't jealous.

Love doesn't boast, nor is it proud, nor is it rude.

Love doesn't demand it's own way.

It's not irritable either...and it keeps no record of being wronged.

It doesn't rejoice about injustice...rather...it rejoices whenever Truth wins out.

Love NEVER gives up.

It NEVER loses faith.

It is ALWAYS hopeful.

Love will never fail.

In light of this holiday season which may not seem too 'cheerful' to many people in our nation right now, I hope I can do my part to exude love. No strings attached...just legitimate, real, love. And I hope I can make someone's Christmas season a little more 'Merry'. I'd 'love' it if you joined me. :) 

Budgets and Bills and Brawls

In the past six (almost seven, yay!) years of being married I've learned a few things about money:

1.) In most cases, the woman in the relationship manages the finances

2.) There is almost always a Spender and a Saver in any relationship

3.) Statistically, the top three things that couples argue about are money, sex, and children/homelife

Well...turns out, Brent is the one who manages our finances. Which means he is the Saver between the two of us. Which leads us to number 3....we argue about money...I'll leave it at that. :)

It's been an interesting ride on this subject, so I figured I'd put it out there to others who may find themselves in the same situation as the Spender.

I've never been great with money, even though I've had a job since I was 15. My parents raised my brother, sister and I to work hard for the things we wanted. So, I've always worked. But money has never been a big deal to me. I've never really cared about the amount of my paycheck, but rather, if what I was doing was fulfilling and worth it.

When I got married, I had never functioned with a 'budget' nor had I really thought about putting money away into savings. I just got my paycheck, made sure I had enough for bills, and spent the rest. And then my darling husband entered the picture...

Consider us "Old Fashioned," but we have joint accounts for everything. I see what he makes/spends and he sees what I make/spend. No secrets. When he proposed that we create a budget to see where all of our money was going, I almost laughed. "I don't understand...if we pay the bills on time and have food on the table why do we need to track where every dollar goes?" Joke was on me.

Our current budget has about 20 categories with specific allocations in every category. We try to go through our expenses every week and we track every purchase made. It's time consuming, and almost always ends with a 'discussion' on why certain amounts can't go towards other categories. I don't think we need to 'save' as much as he thinks, and he doesn't think we need to allocate more money towards my 'Beauty' category. (The struggle is real y'all). (There are other categories that I wish had more, but you understand where I'm going with this).

But, although we most definitely fit into the vast majority of couples who argue about finances, I have to hand it to the Saver in this relationship. While I may have dug my heels in many times about why we really couldn't 'afford' to save, it has come full circle and blessed us immensely. The following things have been made possible because of my husband's determination to save...we didn't have to 'pay it off later' or worry about the bills coming in the mail...it was a done deal and the money was just sitting in the bank to be spent:

1.) We were able to buy each other beach cruisers for our anniversary last year

2.) We were able to re-paint and re-carpet our new home 

3.) I can buy birthday/baby gifts for friends and family whenever I need to

4.) We have given to many non-profits at the drop of a hat (because we HAD the money)

5.) We paid for our son to be born at a great facility without worrying about all of the hospital bills that come afterwards (even WITH insurance, those bills add up, QUICK!)

So, I know I'm in the minority of most couples, being a woman that really doesn't have too much concern about money in general, but I am thankful for my partner who does. He is why so many great things have been made possible without worrying how we will pay things off later down the road. 

While we will most likely always butt heads on where money should be allocated, I'm thankful for his forethought and determination to butt heads with me on this. It IS worth it. And someday, when we are 65+, and we have a beautiful retirement looking us in the eye, I will once again turn to him and thank him (and he will rolls his eyes, again). 

Every couple needs a Saver. And I'm convinced that the Spender is there just to keep things entertaining. He knows I'll always find somewhere in the budget to spend that extra penny.You always need spice in a relationship! 

So to you, Brent, our Saver. Thank you. 

Sometimes Becoming a Better Person Requires Some Hard Questions

I think we all are constantly trying to become better people. We want to make our lives better, but in doing so, we also make the lives of the people around us better. Becoming a better person isn't just for us, it's for everyone in the worlds we live in each day. For our friends, our spouses, our children, our churches, our neighbors, our employees, the grocery store clerk...the list goes on.

I recently had a conversation with a dear friend who asked me some tough questions, about herself. It took me off guard, how often does someone become so vulnerable to ask those around them how they can improve, and mean it?

"I would love for you to chew on these questions and let me know your honest opinion on how I can improve," she said with conviction and honesty. It took me by so much surprise, that I am still chewing on this a few days later.

The thing about friendship, I'm uncovering, is that once you finally understand someone; What makes them happy, what makes them tick, what they are saying between the lines, and what bothers them...you ultimately accept and embrace them for their quirks. We love them through it all, because that's friendship. But when they ask for you to point out flaws, it feels like you have to replay all those memories that hit you weird, or that sat funny in your heart. But out of love, you never said anything. Because they are your friend, you love them. Your mind and heart automatically keep it inside to protect them.

When you've seen your friend hurt by words from others or devastated from how someone treated them, (after you sat on the couch and consoled them), the last thing you want to do is bring up how THEY could have been 'better' in those situations.

But, nonetheless, I'm here, still chewing on her questions.

Although I have come up with a few things to discuss with this friend, I cannot help but be self-reflective as well. If we are all always trying to become better people, why aren't we constantly asking close friends questions like these? Why are we so arrogant and independent to think that we can figure it out on our own? Why is it that when a friend comes to me with questions such as this, that I'm so thrown off? If we truly are trying to be better at life, we shouldn't be so afraid to ask...

I think we are afraid to ask because we are afraid of what the responses will be. We hate hearing our flaws. We become defensive and conjure up 5 reasons why we are that way... "well, it all stems back to my childhood when _________ happened," we say. And while our experiences most definitely shape us into who we become as adults, they also are not an excuse to behave in an ill-manner, especially towards others.

So, while I'm chewing on this question posed to me from quite an incredibly vulnerable and inspiring friend, I encourage you (and myself)....maybe it's time to put aside your defenses and find a safe person and ask, "How can I improve in life...in my actions...in my words...in my attitude?" The fact that you are putting aside your fear of what the response may be already makes you a better person in my book!

Let's move forward in life...daily striving to be better people and asking hard questions. This world could use 'better' people.

What Motherhood looks like 30 years later...

I've only just begun my journey as a mother...

Triston is still so young and has just started standing on his own. I don't quite relate to my friends' posts about how chaotic and busy life can be with toddlers and school-aged kiddos. Because, for right now, a pack'n'play is all I need to find solace and a bit of time to cook dinner without too much distraction. (And I'm grateful for this stage!)

But over the last month I've had the privilege to see what motherhood looks like 30 years into it. And it's beautiful and sweet and memorable.

We recently went back home for a week to see my husband's family for a family reunion. With ALL of the family. I'm one of the lucky ones who absolutely adores her in-laws. I couldn't wait to spend time with my extended family.

Brent's mom was the blue ribbon mom during his childhood years. She was there for her THREE boys all throughout their lives. When they were young (and busy bodies) she made up adventures, and songs, and bible verse rhymes to keep them occupied. She dressed them to a tee and they were always the cutest and most well-behaved boys. She had them try out every sport to see which ones they preferred and even had them take piano lessons (which my mom did too, and I will do as well!). All the while, she maintained her own womanhood and independence. WOW! She is something fierce.

Well, after 30 years of motherhood under her belt, I got to watch her bask in the beauty of having all her boys back together again. They are scattered around the WORLD right now and I loved watching her joy and exuberance while she spent time with them. Whether it was playing games after dinner, when I knew she was tired and ready for bed, or making them all lunch and packing snacks for them for the day....she is STILL a mother. She still puts her boys before herself. It's a beautiful thing to behold.

I know many women may feel a bit of territorial awkwardness if their mother-in-law were to pack a sandwich for their husband....but the truth is...now that I have a son, I get it completely. I will ALWAYS take care of my boy. I will pack his lunch when he is 30, even if he is married, because he is my son. I will always take care of my boy. Well done mama Pauly...you did well. You are STILL a good mom.

And on to my sweet mother.

She recently came out to Arizona to help us move into our new home. There was a LOT of painting to be done and she came just for that. She showed up in work clothes and basically left in them.

The fact that she lives so far from her only grandchild, I can't imagine how much of her wanted to hold Trison all day. To read to him, to go for walks, to take him for a swim or to just snuggle. But no...she was committed to ME. That amazing woman painted for four days straight and even got up early and started without us one morning. My mom came for Me. She put aside her carnal and emotional need to love on Trison all day for her daughter.

I'm not completely selfish so there were moments when her and Triston got to spend time together playing, reading books, eating, and snuggling. But for the most part, my mom came for me and my needs. Because I am her daughter.

I've learned so much in this past year about motherhood, but recently I've enjoyed observing motherhood from a different point of view. Once they are your baby, they will always be your baby. What they need is what you provide.

I'm so grateful that I'm lucky enough to have the family, and in-laws, that I do. I promise that I don't take it lightly. I fully understand and embrace the beautiful 'mothers' I have in my life. I hope to be just like them in 30 years. They've set the bar pretty high.

So today's post is brought to you by Mothers; 30 years later. They are something to be reckoned with. Well done Bonnie and Rose. Well done.

Old Age and New Life...My observations about old people and babies

I just returned home from a trip with my in-laws. Brent and I took Triston to Texas to meet his Great-Grandma for the first time. She turned 93 on Saturday. She currently lives in an assisted living facility with other residents her age.

Upon arriving to the home, Grandma yelped with delight and cried tears of joy upon holding Triston for the first time. Her memory has begun to digress in the last few months and she has a hard time remembering much, but she'd made sure to remind everyone in the home over these past few months that her only Great-Grandson would be coming to visit soon. That was something that her mind would not let her forget. And the day finally arrived.  It was such a sweet moment; placing Triston into her extended, excited arms. As touching as that single moment was, what transpired over the rest of the day was something that will stick with me forever. As the minutes went on, and Triston's belly laughter echoed throughout the halls, an audience began to grow.

One by one, residents would follow that laughter down the hall and around the corner and come to see the new abundant LIFE that had just entered their world. A world that is so often thick with silence, sitting and waiting...for nothing special. But today a baby boy graced their world with laughter and joy. As more and more people emerged out of the woodwork, we had nearly ten people in the sitting room at one point just watching and smiling. I didn't know any of them, but they all felt as though they were Great-Grandparents to Triston. They all wanted to hold him and all of the ladies kissed his cheeks and held his hands. (Everything in me wanted to make sure they were all aware that their germs would certainly get him sick-new mom syndrome- but I held back). Sometimes certain moments are worth him catching a cold; this was one of them.

These older folks just came to LIFE with Triston in the room. They were giggling along with him, singing, clapping, dancing, and cooing and their eyes were lit again. They all discussed their Great-Grankids and their families. And I sat there embracing what one little boy, full of life, can bring to a room full of people who don't have too much to giggle about.

It just opened my eyes to how powerful LIFE is. It encouraged me to never let the child within me to die out. I may not be a squishy cute baby, but I sure as heck can be a giver of LIFE in any room I walk into. What a beautiful thing it would be if I could bring people out of their lonely rooms (literally and figuratively) and out into the 'hall' to join in on all of the fun to be had.

So that's my charge to you. Light up a room like a child. Let people hear and feel the excitement you radiate so they too remember what it feels like to giggle every once in awhile. Because it's pretty phenomenal what a simple giggle can do for the soul.

The Hardest Thing About Running Isn't the Running Part...

A short and sweet thought for the day:

I posted a blog about this several years ago, but I felt like I wanted to put it out there again. It's a valuable lesson to those of you who have a hard time getting out the door and to the gym.

I'm a runner. I am one of 'those' who truly does enjoy running. I like the pavement under my feet, breathing to the rhythm of my music blaring in my ears and forgetting all about what's happened in my day or what is to come, and just GOING. Whether it be three miles or seven. But I found a secret a few years ago that continually proves itself reliable time and time again. Putting on my running shoes.

If I can get in my running outfit, slip on my socks and tighten up my laces...I WILL go for a run. I WILL make it happen. There may be a few things that get in my way before going (well these days, it's usually a LOT of things), but once my shoes are on, it's a psychological thing that I don't want to take them off without putting a few miles on them first. Even if it's the shortest run ever and I didn't quite get in what I wanted, I at least made it happen. And I'm proud of that.

So, with that said. Find a time in the day that you may be able to get a run in, put your shoes and clothes on, and see how it plays out. The hardest thing about running is putting on your shoes...lace em up tight and go git er done!

Being a Supermom is easy....

I've decided that you only need ONE key ingredient to being Supermom. (Yes, I know, in all of my 6 whole months of experience I've deemed myself an expert...typical). The only thing you need is: Confidence.

I survived the pregnancy, the natural birth, the infancy and no sleep, and Triston is now considered a 'baby'...Big boy! But through each step I've learned that any time I was insecure, scared or upset, it was due to lack of confidence. Afterall, I'd never done this before and was getting to know my son and his personality and needs. I'd be going along fine and dandy until someone would make a comment like, "Oh, we never did that with our son, how's it going?" or, "Well, he needs to be getting X amount of sleep, and X amount of breastmilk and X amount of playtime..." (Please don't misunderstand me here. I think all the literature, doctors, friends and family are helpful and a great resource for us to figure out how to maneuver our way around this whole motherhood thing, but sometimes it's all just too much). And all of the sudden confidence and practicality was thrown to the wind and my mind was stolen by thoughts of doubt. "Well if she didn't do it that way, maybe I'm screwing him up. Maybe what I thought was the best really isn't and now I've failed him in just two short months of life...dangit...maybe I shouldn't have become a mother in the first place....(and the list goes on and on)." My MOST sleepless nights thus far weren't due to a crying infant, they were due to worry and over-thinking.

Truth is, I DON'T know how to do it RIGHT. I know how to do it MY way because after spending day-in and day-out with my son, I know him BEST. And to be completely honest, even when I don't know what I'm doing I just pretend I do...because it's a journey. I'm learning everyday how to be a better mother to Triston and he's learning everyday how to respond to his mother. We're dance partners makin' our way through this crazy life and I'm leading the way.

The day I found out that you shouldn't re-freeze breastmilk after it's been thawed out I felt like an idiot. My poor son had been drinking it with no complaints so I figured all was well. When my pediatrician informed me that that wasn't such a good idea, I immediately tried to count how many bottles I'd given him with improper milk. I was up all night. Insecurity and doubt; they will get ya every time.

So, my post today is dedicate to all you moms out there who are wallowing in worry/fear that you are doing something wrong. Well, I say (as a professional, ha), believe in yourself. If you are doing something 'wrong' you will figure it out eventually and make adjustments. But for now, for today, take a deep breath, push your thoughts aside and tell yourself (and believe it) that you are rockin it! Have some confidence moving forward. There are plenty of other things to worry about than racking your brain on how to love your kid better! Because, based on the simple fact that you are already worrying, means you care deeply about your kiddos' well being and future. And that's a perfect love. And that makes you a Supermom in my book. Just take the lead and keep on dancing!

There you have it. It's easy right?! :)....I may come back to this post in a year or two and laugh my head off because I've no idea what lies ahead. But for now, for today, I'm going to believe I'm a Supermom and move forward in confidence! Join me...

The Life of a Pastors Kid...Yeah, it's intense.

I've debated over many different ways to take this post, but I've decided to keep it simple, for today. I want to speak on behalf of a very interesting, very unique group of people...the pastor's kids of today. Many of you reading this know who my parents/family are. For those of you who don't, my father is the Senior Pastor of a Mega-Church (It wasn't always a mega-church...). in Northern Colorado, and he has been there since I was eleven months old, so being a pastor's kid is all I've ever known.

Firstly, I want to remind all you non-pastor's kids that PKs, as we have been 'creatively' labeled, are all individuals and have very different stories. Today you will hear of MY account and my opinion on it all...Here we go.

Just because our parents were pastors doesn't mean we are all the same or have the same things to share. We don't all fit into either box of rebel or peace-maker...Believe it or not, there are many OTHER personalities that can come out of the home of a pastor. We are artists, musicians, doctors, entrepreneurs, pastors, writers, policemen, hippies, stay-at-home moms, liberals, conservatives, you name it. We each have been on our own 'faith' journey and we all have experienced God/faith/religion through our own eyes and experience. Being a PK is the same as being the child of ANY person who is 'famous'. But with the added bonus that your parent personally speaks into the lives of others. About God. So they are kind of a big deal to everyone.

One thing that I noticed growing up was the constant interest from others about our family-life. Everyone wanted to know the gossip about the Northrop family, any juicy details they could later go on to discuss with their friends, as if they had the 'inside' scoop on what's really happening behind the scenes; Spoiler Alert; my family was a normal family with no deep dark secrets. My dad really is a great man and my parents really have a happy/healthy marriage, and my siblings and I really do love each other!! (Side note: there were a LOT of people in my life who genuinely cared about me and my family and had the purest of intentions when they asked about how we were doing. I'm NOT referring to them here).  

Another oddity is that because people knew my father, they felt like WE had a connection, even if I’d never met them before in my life. I have to say that there was a give and take to this weird connection. I know that there were so many people who prayed for our family, for me, who didn’t even know me. I’ll never know, on this Earth, how those prayers affected my life for the good. And additionally, on rare occasions, my last name got me an 'in' with someone or somewhere that I wanted to be professionally and personally. But the other side of the coin is that my last name also opened the door to completely inappropriate behavior from strangers. I've had countless times that a distant friend from home has reached out to me on Facebook to suggest some sort of new business idea for my dad to implement at the church. One time an employee of the bank called my sister and told her he would like to discuss a new credit card that she qualified for. She made the trip to the bank and after a 30 second conversation, which could have been done over the phone, he proceeded to tell her about a new missions idea that he thought our dad should consider. One time my brother was out having a beer with friends and a protestor approached him and started yelling at him for defacing the church. Really?! I understand that people felt a connection to our dad and therefore felt a connection to us, but I seriously think common sense goes out the window for people and they just see the PK as their business connection to ‘the big guy’. Too funny. 

And lastly, most people think we know everything about what's going on behind the scenes at the church. They see our lives like this: We get to take the keynote speaker home each week! We must have picked their brain day and night about their sermons, inspiring stories and about all the 'dirt' they have on the congregation. But PKs see it like this: My dad is "Dary" to thousands of people, but he's only "Dad" to three of us. So, we've always preferred to have him as Dad. When he came home we didn't want to hear about 'church' stuff...we were only concerned with showing him our latest fort that we built, resolving the latest sibling argument, getting a basketball game in before dinner, or wrestling downstairs...how many of YOU were really interested in your parents' day at work while you were growing up? Ya...that's what I thought. We never knew much about what went on behind the scenes, because we just wanted to hang out with our dad. This is another thing that baffles me, when someone asks about some behind-the-scenes details of the church….I just want to ask them, did your parent raise you by telling you all their office gossip? Ha…NO….mine didn’t either…which makes me like you, normal.

I want to end on a positive note because I feel like most of this post is relieving years of latent irritation. I will always feel close to, and like family, to the other PKs from the church. One blessing that comes from your parent spending lots of time with co-workers is that you have regular mass-play dates with all the PKs. As kids, we spent so many hours together while our parents met upstairs and held meetings and prayed for the church. When I was young, the pastor’s called this TLC (I always assumed it stood for Tender Love and Care, but now that I’m typing it, I could be WAY off). Anyways, our parent’s would meet a couple times a month on Sunday evenings…Some of my most fond memories as a child were the nights that all the staff got together and let us kids run wild downstairs and outside. All us PKs have grown up and have gone our separate ways…some still attend church and believe in God and others don’t, but I will always consider my fellow PKs as friends, even family. It’s just a PK thing. We get each other and our weirdness. We understand the oddities of having parents who are well-known and the super odd connection that people feel to us when they know our parents. I feel blessed to have grown-up with the 10-15 of you who were part of shaping me in to who I am today. You are all fabulous.

 

So there you have it…the good, the bad, and the ugly of this fabulous title of PK. My dad and mom are stellar and I believe in them. My dad as a Pastor and my mom as his rockstar wife. So, if I have to be a PK in order to have them, I’m down.

The War Within the Introvert

Now let's clarify one thing before I get started.

Being an introvert doesn't mean you are shy or anti-social. It means you need/enjoy alone time to re-charge to be able to be your BEST self in public and social settings. Most of my life, people have fought me and tried to tell me, "You aren't an introvert, you are friendly and outgoing and fun." Yes...I can have fun in a social setting, I'm not a complete recluse, but it's because I've prepped for it for several days while hiding out at home in my pajamas, sitting in silence (over dramatization here, but I'm just proving my point). So, with that said...here is a war I face as an introvert and I'd like my fellow innies to weigh in.

I could sit and be alone in silence, or with soft music playing, for days. Literally. Sometimes it's like 4:00 in the afternoon and I've realized I haven't really talked to my son much because I've enjoyed the quiet of the day. (oops). Sometimes, when Brent gets home and starts talking, I feel like he's yelling, but I realize its because I haven't been around talking pretty much all day...and I'm okay with this.

I often go days without having much social interaction. I will leave the house and go to Starbucks, to the grocery store, go for a run, or run errands...but all of those require minimal social interaction. But I find myself giving me a pat on the back because, well, at least I got out of the house. (and got dressed).

However, with this minimal people time, I often get lost inside my own mind. I will dwell on things much too long or think myself into circles some days. As much as I love having Pandora playing all day and being able to 'recharge' in the quiet everyday, I have to admit that all this 'recharging' could be the reason I'm also going batty. So where's the line?

I find solace in quiet time to myself, but am also left too long with too loud of thoughts to stew over...where do YOU find a balance? Are any of you other innies with me on this? It's a bit of a pickle.

A Lot of Nothing Adds up to Quite a Big Something

I have a three month old and I find myself doing a lot of nothing these days. Don't get me wrong, I'm not harping on motherhood. It is, in fact, a very interesting career and I'm learning new things daily about myself, my husband and this new addition to our family. But...lately I've noticed how much time in my day is taken up by sitting, pacing or bouncing:

I sit to nurse Triston. 

I sit in front of him while he's in his bouncy chair and talk to him. 

I stand above him when he is in his crib talking jibberish to me. 

I hold him in my arms and bounce him when he is fighting falling asleep.

I stand over him for a billion minutes waiting for him to fall asleep in his crib so I can take the pacifier out. And once that is done successfully, I sit stand there in case he stirs and looks to see if I'm there. So I just stand there.

Last week I realized how many hours of my day equate to doing 'nothing'. But I'm raising a human being! I'm raising a boy who will become a young man who will later contribute his mind/talents/gifts to this world. And all of this nothing that I'm doing will eventually add up to something great. 

Those of you mothers of toddlers reading this must be laughing and warning me to, "enjoy it while you can because before you know it you won't be able to sit still for a single second." And I hear you. I know I can't prepare myself enough for what's to come later down the road....many many more learning moments. But for today, I'm attempting to be content in doing a lot of nothing....with the understanding that it truly is quite a big Something.

Happy Thursday world. Make it a good one.