Shame Observed - "Kaitlyn does not work to her full potential"

My deepest shame has always been this sense that I somehow wasn't good enough. But one thing I've always been great at is pretending. So my greatest fear has always been that other people knew that I was a fraud. I spent my whole life being the "best" at whatever I did, and if I couldn't be the best (or at least fake it well enough) then I probably just stopped trying. I had amazingly supportive parents who believed in everything I ever did, they showed up and encouraged me at everything I tried. This isn't somehow their fault. This is a fear that's been engrained in me for as long as I can remember- perhaps because of the pressure of growing up in the fishbowl that is being a pastor's kid? I'm sure family dynamics, birth order, and "public" life had something to do with it.

I distinctly remember reading my report card as a child - Reading 98, Math 96, Science 99, and so on. Comments - "Kaitlyn is not working to her full potential." There it is. Even just writing that sentence, the shame that followed still fills my heart 23 years later. My early elementary school teacher could never have known that I would carry those words over 2 decades later. Neither could the countless other teachers who made the very same comments about my achievements. Maybe they meant it as an encouragement, but I never understood why my best didn't feel good enough. It felt like my teachers could somehow see through me, they knew I was pretending. Pretending to be smart. Pretending to be capable. Just pretending.

This was my inner-dialogue for the majority of  my adolescence and early adulthood - "They all know you're a fraud."

As an undergrad I had a professor who took time to mentor me. I had found a topic of study I loved, that I was the only one in my family to study, and that I was genuinely good at. I felt confident as I wrote my thesis. I spent countless hours every week writing only to have Dr. Maness sit with me for a few more hours as he painstakingly edited my work. Never once did he make me feel like a fraud, never once did I feel like he was judging me or wondering whether I had "worked to my full potential."  In that year I felt like I was enough - not the best, but not a failure, just enough. It was because of him that I felt confident enough to jump into graduate school. I just knew that this is what I needed to do - I loved this area of study and I was good at it.

The first few years of my masters/PhD program were amazing. I made friends, I was challenged, I questioned a lot of what I knew about the world. I got a masters! Once the PhD work began I dove in, and as I did, the doubt started to creep back into the recesses of my mind. Even though I had a 3.8 GPA, I started to struggle with my confidence. I wondered what my committee thought about my work all the time. I was convinced they all knew I was full of it when I took my exams and gave an oral defense. They asked tough questions, I had answers. But later on, in the dark, I cringed at my responses. There it is. I had gone too far. I probably didn't belong here. And they all knew it.

At the same time, I began to struggle with my dissertation chair. Some might say that the internal issues were triggered by her treatment of me in classes, the way she thought nothing of belittling me or tearing my work apart as I stood in the light of the projector at the front of the class. I knew my chair wasn't quite right in the head, though, and so I always tried to just shake her comments off.

I had a baby shortly after I passed my dissertation prospectus defense. I continued to work on research through the semester of maternity leave and came back ready to write. But things were weird. I would e-mail chapters to my committee and they would send them back stating that my dissertation chair had disallowed them from reading and commenting until she thought I was "ready" - whatever that means. During my time away she had decided that the prospectus I passed was unreasonable, so I rewrote and re-defended. It felt like a punch to the gut but I knew I just needed to jump whatever hoops to earn the letters I wanted after my name. I kept reading, I kept writing.

One day, I sent a chapter out to my whole committee. I received an e-mail back that said "A***, This is what I was talking about. She's in complete denial. T****". My heart was in my throat and my face was burning. I didn't know whether I would cry or puke. An e-mail that I was never intended to see threw me into a tailspin. Suddenly, many other strange events made sense - namely that I was contacted to confirm a conference room reservation at school. The reservation said "Kaitlyn TeBordo Wood" and they assumed I had made it. As it turns out, it was my committee chair who called a meeting to discuss me (and apparently my state of denial).

After 5 years in the program without any issue, no bad grades, no concerns about my writing, my chair believed that I was unready to write a dissertation because my skill was not "up to par." "It's okay," she would later tell me, "maybe you should have just gone to Bible College.*"

That e-mail confirmed everything I ever feared - that I'm not enough. And what's worse? That everybody knows it. Kaitlyn does not work to her full potential.

I left my doctoral program within weeks of that awkward e-mail exchange. My entire life flipped upside down and has never really flipped back up again.

Despite knowing that my chair was a bit off her rocker, I took every word she uttered as truth. And I've carried that stone with me everywhere I go... Except that I didn't realize it until recently. Until someone asked me a direct question about my grad school experience a few weeks ago, I hadn't even noticed that I've spent the last 5 years in a spiral of shame that is overwhelming to admit out loud.

I want to write, but I won't. I'm certain that behind their screens every single person is thinking the same thing my committee chair never meant to say directly to me, "She's in denial. She can't do this. Maybe she should have just gone to Bible College."

I want to speak, but I stick to preaching with my congregation because they're safe to me. Because I'm convinced that walking "into the Stadium" as Brene Brown puts it will put me square in the middle of the harsh light that would reveal all of my failings.

So instead, I don't. I keep a running journal of all the things I want to write about. I keep a running note on my phone of all the videos I should make. I've spent years hiding. Afraid to get up from the floor my committee chair left me on, deciding it's safer if I just stay here.

I'm kind of tired of it. I'm tired of walking around worried about the criticism that others might have from the stands of the stadium. I'm tired of standing outside of the stadium waiting for someone to notice me, decide I'm good enough, and usher me back out into the ring. I'm tired of looking back and wondering "what if...".

I don't know what happens next. There's no happy or triumphant ending here. But I wonder if my elementary school teachers were prophetic or something, because when I look back at the last 5 years of my life I can confidently say that "Kaitlyn is not working to her full potential." Not because I don't *do* enough, Lord knows my schedule (and hands) are quite full, thank you. But because I have spent the last 5 years hiding outside of the arena, speaking to those safe people on the sidewalk, just to avoid the feeling I had when I received that e-mail.

I can't help but wonder what might happen if I dared to go back in.







* Please note that I have no issue with Bible College. LOL! It was just something that my Chair used to try to shame me because we were at a snobby research institution. ;) In fact, I go to "Bible College" now - I'm in seminary at Northeastern. :)

What I'm saying when I say I trust God.

Most of you already know that this week I will be saying "goodbye" to my sister (who also happens to be my best friend).  I have cried. A lot.

Abigail & I at her MSW Graduation

Tears of sadness... because I will obviously miss her.

Tears of selfishness... because now what will I do on my days off, who will I bounce my ridiculous ideas off of, who can I complain about things to, and who will call me on my crap?

Tears of anxiety... because who knows what the next 11 months have in store for either of us?

Us as Olsen twins... obviously

In general, I am an anxious person. That is, I am prone to anxiety. In many forms. My social anxiety is pretty impressive. It is rivaled only by my travel anxiety. I don't get nervous when I travel, especially when I travel with my family. But when my family and loved ones travel without me? Forget it. I'm a wreck.

10.5 years ago my parents and younger siblings left me home for the summer while I worked and spent time with friends and packed to head back to college. In the middle of the night toward the end of August, one week before I was scheduled to head to school, I got a phone call from my father.

"Kaitlyn, mommy had a heart attack."
"Is she okay? She's okay now, right?"
"No, I'm sorry honey. She didn't make it."

In that moment my entire world shattered. Nothing in my 18 years made any sense anymore. It would be a long time before I could make heads or tails of my feelings. Mourning is weird. And personal. But one thing I know that I never experience was anger with God. I'm not really sure why. I just knew that I needed him. I knew that I would probably never really know why I was experiencing this, but I prayed it would be used.

Obviously, as my travel anxiety proves, I haven't fully dealt with all of this 10 years later.

Many of us are trained to say, sing and preach that we "trust God." That "all things work together." But what about when they don't?  What happens to our faith, to our trust in God, when the foundation of our lives crumble.  Often times when we say we trust God, what we really mean is, "I want God to do things my way."

It's easy to trust God when life is easy. It feels good to sing and declare that our God is trustworthy. But that trust goes much deeper than a cliche or a worship chorus.

My dad used to pray before we left on trips that God would send angels to surround us as we traveled, that we would be protected. It makes sense and I get why he did that. But in some ways, doesn't praying for God's protection almost demonstrate a distrust for His plan?

My anxiety tears over my sister's departure flow freely mostly because I know my sister is not my own. I know I cannot protect her, control her, or keep her safe. Especially as she flies around the world to live with a people she fell in love with years ago. As she works in dangerous situations, helping free people from the bondage of modern slavery.

As Abigail leaves, I don't pray "God send your angels to protect her," and not because I don't want her protected. Instead I pray, "God, I trust my precious sister to your perfect will."  Because my trust in God is not dependent on getting my way. It can't be. God is not my genie in the sky. Truly trusting in God says, "God, I trust that You have written this story to it's completion. I trust that there is a plan. I trust that working together all things doesn't always mean things work the way I want them to."

I trust God because He is trustworthy. In times of financial, marital, personal, social challenges I trust God because I know in my core who He is. Because I fully understand that I am a vapor. That my story is a blip on the screen in the greater movie.  I trust God because I know who He is. That he is I AM. That the same God who called Moses to free the Israelites from bondage has called Abigail to free the oppressed in South East Asia.

Trusting God is not easy. It certainly doesn't stop me from crying. And it won't stop me from believing that Abigail will be back here in 11 months, suffering through insane family events at Christmas with me and enjoying a mani/pedi and Moe's in only the way she can. God knows the desires of my heart, for my sister to be safe and to return here. But God also knows how our stories play out.

So I am trusting my sister to God.
Whatever that means.
No matter how hard.

I trust her to God's care and I look forward to seeing the way that God uses her heart, her call, and her courage to change this world!

Ruthlessly Eliminate Hurry

I was challenged this week to "ruthlessly eliminate hurry" from my life. The story was retold by a speaker at the conference, but was original to John Ortberg, a favorite author of mine. Anyway, John calls one his mentors and says to him, "I'm really feeling very depressed and like I can't live up to everything. I've got so many things I need to do and it leaves no time for me, my family, God..." His mentor said to him, "Ruthlessly. Eliminate. Hurry."  Ortberg responded, "Oh, that's great! What's the next step?" ;)

That *is* the only step. Eliminate hurry from your life.  Huh, that sounds both simple and infuriating, right?  I put that into practice this week.  Living "alone" for 4 days makes it sort of easy to eliminate hurry, I think.  My typical type-A personality lost out to my desire to slow down and relax.  It was fantastic. I never rushed or felt stressed in lines at the airport, I didn't feel pressure to be 15 minutes early to everything, cutting short my morning prep time or coffee stop. I just, I let things happen. I allowed myself to take time to do my hair, relax in my room, and meander through the hotel shops on my way to meetings.

I guess that's pretty easy to do when you're transported from the "bleak mid winter" of upstate New York and dropped in sunny central Florida in a gorgeous resort.  I took time. And it reminded me of all those trips I rushed through, so worried about the destination that I never enjoyed the adventure of getting there.  What a miserable person I must be to be around sometimes!  Life is so humbling. I am so thankful for grace and the ability to change.

Now comes the real challenge. Of course it's easy to meander and slow down in the vacuum of a solo trip to a gorgeous location. But what about a 20 degree morning when the boys are whining and I'm late for work? Or those times when Levi asks me "Mommy will you ________ with me?" and I'm thinking, "I really need to ______."

I will always be a task-oriented person and that is a challenge for me as a wife, mother, and friend.  I fully admit I am not always the life of the party (no laughing, friends and family!).  I don't think I will ever be a care-free, fly by the seat of your pants, kind of person. But I can slow the heck down.  Ruthlessly eliminate hurry from my life.

Because really? That person who rushes, pushes, and speeds around you on the highway? Usually they are sitting right next to you in the toll booth.  Hurry only frustrates, it doesn't really get you anywhere much faster.  And who knows what adventure you might be missing on the way!

Losing it. Episode 2.

Today was the end of this thing called a Diet Bet. Basically, you get a group of people together on dietbet.com, pay $35 and then you get 4 weeks to lose 4% of your body weight. You have to submit a picture of yourself standing on the scale and a picture of the weight displayed on the scale with a special keyword written on a notecard next to it.  If you lose the weight, you get your money back. If others don't lose the weight, the people who do get to split their money.

Today, I officially WON!  Woot!  I get my money back and maybe a little extra to boot! :)

With that said, I lost 7ish pounds this month! Yay!

I'm giving myself a little grace while traveling for a few days (this does not translate into binge, just not being super strict).  When I get back we're in full prep-mode for the switch to gluten free and Daniel Fast.  If anyone has any tried and true Paleo-type recipes please share!!

2 hours in an airport.

I'm in an airplane right now. It's still insane to me that I can be online in an airplane 10,000 feet in the air.  I'm on my way to Orlando for a conference for 3 days. Until this morning I was ridiculously excited to spend 3 glorious nights alone in my own hotel room- eating, sleeping, exercising  reading, and learning on my own schedule.  Even my type A personality has worn tired of the strict schedule the Wood family is required to keep. Le sigh.

Anyway, this morning I started to get anxious. I'm not a big fan of flying in the first place; I;m not terrified I just don't really enjoy it.  I'm sad to be away from my baby who is days away from taking his first steps and no longer nurses. I told Matt that if he stands up and tries to walk I wanted him pushed down immediately. I was joking. Mostly. I will be pretty bummed if I happen to miss his first steps, though.

Even more than all of that is Levi. My sweet, spunky, spirited, beautiful Levi.  Sigh.  I get so nervous when I have to leave him. I'm not really sure why since I'm not really much better at calming his meltdowns these days, but I'm always sort of waiting for a phone call from home. And when the phone does ring from home, I always fear I will hear the tell-tale screams in the background.  I just. I worry.

So I found myself sitting in a practically empty airport 2 hours before my flight was to take off.  Apparently Wednesday @ 2pm isn't a hugely popular time to fly in January... who knew?  I picked up my Kindle and started reading a book I had downloaded earlier this week in anticipation of my quiet time.  The book is a conversation between two mothers, one younger and one older, about mothering in community, about the guilt and frustrations that can come along with mothering. And more importantly, about some hope for the future.  And then, BAM. I'm in tears. I did my best to quietly wipe my tears before anyone could see, but each page brought new waves of emotions.

When I hit the chapter about "Out of the Box" children I couldn't contain it any longer.  They were talking about me. About my first-born.  And it stung.  Whatever labels might be placed on Levi someday, I'm realizing that my first job is to love him and parent him with the Grace that I desire. The grace we all receive from God.

One of the author's says, "May times we heard the words, 'You aren't spanking your children enough!' And yet my darling little Nathan, who we later found had ADHD and OCD, always responded to me when I was gentle, loving, and filling his cup. He needed patience, and he needed me to like him, and believe in him."  Ouch.

How often am I not showing my child that, through all of his behaviors, I love him and like him?  That I am on his team.

Everyone has ideas about how Matt & I should "handle" Levi and his behaviors.  Some have even suggested that most of his behavior probably just has to do with "us" since he doesn't meltdown during x, y, or z.  I try to respond kindly to those suggestions, to remember that others don't live with him, that Levi feels comfortable melting down with us, that we are generally the ones that are bringing him to challenging situations. Anyway, no matter how well intentioned they are, we don't always feel encouragement or community from friends and family when it comes to that sort of stuff. Having a kid who's "out of the box" can, in fact be really isolating.  It can be lonely in this section of motherhood, and reading about someone else's experience with similar emotions was really liberating and validating.

No matter what evaluations, doctors, or tests say, Levi needs to know that Matt & I are happy with him. That we are proud to be his parents. That we are on his team.  Because you know what? Sometimes this world is actually really scary and overwhelming, and when you're 3 and things feel out of control all the time?  How else might you respond?

For the moment our life with Levi is filled with skinny jeans, lots of squeezing, a good schedule, solid sleep that we can't mess with, lots of preparation for new things, and the occasional meltdown that leaves me curled up in a ball and crying. But it's also filled with laughter at his antics, the joy that comes from hearing him laugh, awe at his natural musical and athletic talent, and a heart that bursts with love for my first born.  And you know what, that is all okay.  This is where we are right now.

As much as all of this thinking makes me want to go home and squeeze him until he makes me let go, I know the next few days away will be good for me. And hopefully good for Levi, and Matt, and Jonah as they enjoy a few days of "bro" time.  Deep breath.

losing it. episode 1.

I've been on Weight Watchers for a little over a month now, though, to be fair/honest, the 2 weeks of holidays were sort of a crap shoot for points tracking and I basically reversed all the progress I had made in the 2 weeks prior.  So, for the sake of argument, let's just say I actually started the 1st week of January. ;)  No seriously, that's when I restarted my tracking, working out, and keeping track of my progress.

I get some odd looks, especially from my husband, when I talk about weight watchers.  While I understand I'm not "obese" or in a risk zone BMI-wise, I am pretty horrendously out of shape, and about 20 pounds over my resting, non-pregnant weight.  I reached that weight about 2 months before getting pregnant with Jonah.  It took me a while post-Levi and I don't plan to take that long this time. Jonah will be ONE next month (omg) and I will be on my way to my happy weight. 

I have some pictures, but I'm not brave enough to post them yet. Maybe I will be able to once I have a progress picture to compare it to. For now, 3 weeks in, I am down just about 5 pounds. It's not a great loss but it's in the right direction and I'm okay with that. 

So there it is. Out in public for everyone to see. I am currently 18.7 pounds from my goal weight.  I want to be at my goal weight by my birthday (5/1); that gives me 3+ months. I think that's realistic.  Here is my plan:


- Mondays are my usual weigh-in days, and I will aim to keep track of my progress on here.

- Working out: I want to run 3xs a week but I'm going to give myself some grace here.  I will promise to be active 4 xs a week.  I would love to be able to actually run a 5k this spring, we shall see.

- Eating: I will be continuing with WW for the foreseeable future. It helps me keep track and be accountable.  As a family, we are going to be experimenting with going gluten free during the time that we Daniel Fast (for lent).  This will be a huge adjustment for the whole family (Levi especially).  I'll get into more details about the gluten experiment in another post, but stripping down our food choices to whole/naturally occurring foods has been a huge help in the past. Actually, it was how I dropped the last 14 pounds of Levi weight 2 years ago.  That whole plan takes place the 2nd week of February!

Any thoughts? Tips? Are you in the same place? What are you doing right now?  Share with me!  Let's encourage each other, cause God knows this is hard!

Saturday was perfect.

Oh, here's just a ton of pictures. This weekend was lovely. The only thing missing was my husband. We had sunshine, a cool breeze, sidewalk chalk, neighbors, friends, grilled hotdogs, birthday celebrating, and intentional relaxation. Amazing.

Levi took sidewalk chalk drawing very seriously.

He has a thing about dirty hands lately.

Our neighbor came outside, so Levi showed him how to draw on the sidewalk.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. I wish Matt was here, but he will be home in approximately 3 hours. :) I had an amazing birthday. Thank you to everyone who made a point to post on my wall, send me a text or e-mail, call, or wish me a happy birthday in person.

Life is good.

-ktw

Im tired.

So I know I have to post tonight. I'm tired and feeling unmotivated, so here are some bullet points about my day:

* Levi has cried every single day this week when leaving him at daycare. It kills me inside. This morning was the worst as he was crying, "No mama! Gock! Gock!" (Which means go on a walk). I tried explaining that any other morning I would rearrange everything for a Gock, but he didn't understand the urgency of my morning appointments. It was gut wrenching.

* What stunk even worse was that I won't see him until tomorrow morning. I taught my first class tonight, so my Dad and Bert picked him up and played with him till bed time.

* I leave for vacation 3 weeks from MONDAY!!!!!!! Matt is off work for 2 whole weeks and we are ecstatic!

* My first class was fun. I gave myself a headache after 3.5 hours of class and dismissed them with an assignment. Seriously, who designed a 4.5 hour class on a Friday night?

* We had a crew of teenagers from the middle and high school come to the church to do work for "Global Youth Service Day." They were all very sweet and did a great job and a ton of work! Yay!

* Tomorrow Levi and I plan to walk to the little league park to see all sorts of cousins and friends in their little league "parade" and maybe catch a game. Levi apparently went to a game with my dad tonight and LOVED it. Good times!

Sad bullet points:
* A friend's baby is in the PICU with pneumonia. I feel awful. :( It's gotta stink to see your baby all sick and helpless. I'm sending so many prayers he way.

* A very dear family friend passed away last night. It was sudden but not unexpected. It's going to be a long road of mourning for his family and mine as well as our congregation.



I will close with this random tidbit- Target "grocery store" is like a black hole. I go for some groceries and inexpensive milk and leave with a new pair of sandals for Levi and other random "end cap" clearance items. Le Sigh. They get me every time.

night!

-ktw

Curbside-to-go and some Yankees.

Yup, it's a hot date night for us before Matt goes out of town. Matt's playing his guitar at the moment, so I wanted to take a minute to write (see, it's gotta be like day 5 by now, right?) and recap a little story from this morning.

So I'm driving Levi to daycare and I come to a red light. There's 1 car in front of me that is just a bit too close for me to slide next to and take a right. Whatever, I'm not in a huge rush. Well, apparently the car that pulled up behind me was because the kid (eh, he was probably my age, but we'll call him a kid) driving starts honking and waving his arms. When I look in the mirror and try to use "international rear view mirror driver sign language" to tell him that the car in front of me is in the way... he flipped me off. Now listen, I know Levi is still to young to know what that means. And heck, he can't even see far enough over the back seat to even see the driver behind us. But that, that just made me mad. So, what did I do? I gave the man a hearty thumbs down. In cases like these I generally think it's better to just use shame.

Anyway, the car in front of me hears the honking and tries to move out of the way so I inch up a bit. Dude! The kid behind me gets right up on my bumper. Really? It's not going to help me take a right so please chill. He's still back there waving his arms and yelling and, at this point, I'm fairly certain he will probably have a heart attack from all the commotion.

Soon enough, the light changes and I took a right. He follow. Closely. We quickly come to another red light where he rests comfortably right up on my bum. Once the light changes, he slams on the gas and squeals around me, staring at me the whole way as if to prove some point about my inefficient driving.

As Karma would have it, the light about 50 yards up was red too. And if you think I didn't get a chuckle as I mumbled to myself, "race ya to the red light," well, then you'd be wrong. When that light turned green he squealed off again, presumably to terrorize some other car.

I couldn't help but wonder, what is so important? Maybe he had a partner in labor somewhere? Maybe he really had to go to the bathroom? My intuition says nah, he was just in a hurry. Why? Because I've been that guy. I don't flip people off or ride up on their bumper (because I'm scared of rear ending someone mostly) but I do often get all worked up and yell and flail like a fool over things of little importance- including someone not turning fast enough. You know, because the 45 seconds I have to wait really do make a difference.

The whole exchange, which may have lasted all of 2.5 minutes, made me think of a John Ortberg quote: "Be the kind of player people want to sit next to." (From, "When the game is over it all goes back in the box") Sometimes, though I'm not proud of it, I'm really not the kind of player I'd want to sit next to. I'm sure that boy behind me has good qualities- though flipping off a car, in the direction of a toddler, over a slow right turn probably isn't one of them.

Moral of the story? Still figuring it out. Slow down? Be nicer? Take the plank out of your own eye? You decide. Oh, and read some John Ortberg while your at it.

-ktw

I'll just publish this one instead.

I just wrote a very whiny post about Matt going away this weekend. I saved it as a draft and probably won't post it.

In reality, I need to appreciate that he has a job. That it's a good job. And that we are taken care of, have insurance, etc. I need to understand that there are people who have much worse situations.

Does it kind of suck to have him gone on my birthday... again? Does it kind of suck that he has worked late every night this week and will work late again tomorrow night? Sure. Am I entitled to being a bit whiny? Maybe.

But, in the long run, it's really not a big deal. In the grand scheme of things, it's sort of silly.

So, I'm a bit whiny but I'm getting over it. I am teaching my first class Friday. I'm going to enjoy dinner with the girls and meeting up with friends on Saturday. Sunday will be church, lunch with my family, and the youth. I'll be busy, I'm hoping Levi will be happy, and Matt will be in New Jersey. Not Afghantistan or in the hospital or something else that's much worse than having a husband who occasionally needs to leave for 3.5 days to sell the heck out of some t-shirts.

Yep, I think I will leave the complaining post unpublished. It's just not the sort of thing I need to be putting out there. No one wants to be around a Debbie Downer. ;)

On Sunday I will be the big 2-6. Woot! I'm going to enjoy this weekend. I'm also going to enjoy some sort of celebration with that husband of mine. Whenever we get around to it!

-ktw

Some sentences about life.

I didn't write yesterday, sue me. ;) I went out on a work date last night and there was no internet. I guess it's better anyway because I would have spent more time on facebook and blogging that I would have on finishing my lesson plans! I did get my lesson plans finished, though so ya'll should be proud of me. I guess I'll just tack on an extra day to my "month of blogging." Whatev.

Anyway, today was a pretty normal day. That is, with the exception of a potentially amazing opportunity presenting itself to Matt and I. We have been praying and hoping for a new, forever house and will go tomorrow to talk to some people about possibly getting one. That's really all I can say at this point because it's really preliminary and in the very beginning stages. Sorry if it's annoying when people do that, but I'd love your prayers if you think of them.

It was over 80 degrees today for the first time in, what seemed like, forever! I picked Levi up from daycare early-ish and went to my dad's to let him run around in the back yard and play on the swings. He was dripping sweat, bright red in the face, with hair looking like a mad scientist. Haha. He wouldn't drink much water for me, but he drank 4 full cups of milk. GAG! I can't imagine drinking milk in heat, but I'm not much for milk anyway. Whatever, it kept him hydrated. We stayed to have some pizza with my dad, Bert, and Zach.

After tubby-time and potty time it was bed time. Phew! Now it's Yankees time and I'm off. Oh, but not without an adorable picture from Easter. Y'all this is too cute for me to handle. When did my baby become a little man? :(



It was a nice, normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing too stressful. Just a day to get some work done, enjoy the changing seasons, and enjoy my family. Pretty good day. I'm really going to enjoy this summer!

He is Risen Indeed!

I wanted to get all deep and spiritual for an Easter post, but if I'm being honest most of my entries lately have been deep and spiritual. Haha. Aside from that, today was just too much for be to really write anything too profound. I did, however, learn and important lesson today: I can only push Levi so far before I totally set him up for behavior disaster. AKA- sometimes, when Levi is acting out, I feel totally awful because it's really my fault. :(

Back story: Thursday was our seder dinner, which ended around 7:30. We got Levi home and in bed by 8. Only about an hour late, so not too bad. Friday, the service didn't even start until 8. He went to bed at 9. Both nights he woke up around normal time (7-730) thus, not making up the lost sleep. Saturday night we dyed eggs after youth group and got him home around 9 again. Only, this morning, he woke up at like 6:30!!! He proceeded to take a 1 hour nap during church and wake up in a total funk.

We went to Easter lunch where there were about 40 people and he just wanted to go outside and play in the mud. I really fought it at first, not wanting him outside as it was off-and-on drizzling and kind of swamp-like in areas of the yard. We changed him into jeans and gave in shortly as it was going to be easier to clean him (yeah, he turned the tub gray tonight) than listen to him shreak and watch him throw himself on the ground all afternoon.

He barely ate, he whined, he laid on the ground and cried. It was awesome. It was my fault.

I know Levi needs sleep. I've always known that. For Levi to be at his optimal self he needs 12 hours + at night and 2 hours + for a nap. He's always been a sleeper and, more importantly, he's a schedule kid. He needs that and I didn't put his needs first. It's a hard balance. Next year? If he's still a sleeper we will definitely get an at-home sitter for the later evening services. Live and learn I suppose, eh?

Positives of the weekend? Levi peed on the potty 6 times Saturday!! He only missed twice. That's pretty awesome! He still doesn't tell us, or go to the potty on his own, but does seem to let us know he needs a new diaper pretty quickly. I'm pretty excited at the prospect of a diaper free house. I know one of these days I need to just bite the bullet and have a few consecutive "no diaper" days and it will happen. He's a smart kid and appears to have made the connection pretty quickly. We'll see.

Hopefully I will be posting some Easter (and South Carolina) photos very soon!

-ktw (day 2, a success!)

Mission accomplished...?

There's something very satisfying, in a non-prideful way (I hope), about pouring yourself into something and finding out that it touched others in a meaningful way. Last year, Matt and I spent about 3 weeks planning a new Good Friday service. It was a bit of a gamble as it was quite different than the previous Good Friday services, and really any other church service we have. Now, not many people usually come to our service on Good Friday anyway, so last year about 25 or 30 people attended. Those who were there really seemed to enjoy it and it made me so happy to know that my style of worship resonated with people.

Cut to this year. My dad allowed me to also work with the Ash Wednesday service to tie the full Lenten season together. Matt and I worked together (as we actually do very well ;) ) and developed an experiential service for Ash Wednesday that focused on "tangible" prayers. We had various stations throughout that sanctuary that encouraged participants to meditate on an area of their lives. There was a station with clay that asked everyone (while playing with the clay) to imagine what their lives would be like if they truly allowed God to mold them the way He saw fit. Then they prayed asking God to soften their hearts and mold them. There were 3 other stations like that (Water, Oil, Ashes).

The final station asked each person to select a stone and write on it one thing in their life that they'd like to work on during the season of Lent. Personally, mine was bitterness. That's probably another blog post in itself. I carried my stone around with me everywhere. It often reminded me (although not always in time) to try to respond more kindly to those I disagree with. I hope it continues to remind me that I can't carry those disagreements into feelings of resentment that sometimes make me a not so fun person to be around.

This past week Matt and I reworked last year's Good Friday service to include some songs that were more meaningful to us, and include time for everyone to bring their stones up front and leave them at the foot of the cross.

Last night about 70 people showed up for service. So many of them shared such positive things about their experience in the service, including our (older) very traditional assistant pastor who told me that it was both "moving and reverent," and another stoic man who said, "thanks for making me cry!" I told him, "Mission accomplished, I don't consider it a good service unless people leave crying." Haha.

Anyway, I guess what this whole post is about is that to know that you were able to facilitate others into a meaningful experience of Good Friday is somewhat indescribable (which is probably why I've spent most of the time in this post rambling about logistics).

It is also very encouraging to know that maybe this style is something Matt and I need to continue to work on. There aren't a lot of areas in our lives or ministries where we are able to work together on the same level. I sometimes sing back-up for worship, he sometimes leads at youth, but overall those are more "supporting" roles. For this, we both brought our talents to the table and worked together. It's kind of an amazing feeling.

Denise will probably tell me that I always write sermons in my blog. And, well, I kind of just can't help it. Ha!

I hope sincerely that you have a meaningful Easter weekend, whatever that looks like. For now, my small boy has just gotten out of the shower and is running around naked. I guess that's my cue.

-ktw




p.s. I'm hoping this is the start of a "blog challenge" where I commit to blog every day for a month. We'll see how that goes. ;)

stream of {random} consciousness.

I’m sort of feeling like a bad mom today. I realized that, although we have gotten well over 3 feet of snow in the last month, I have no pictures of my child in it. Even worse? He hasn’t been out in it. What kind of North East US winter childhood is that? The issue is that he doesn’t have any snow gear, and although I keep meaning to go get him some, I keep forgetting. We are scheduled to get some more (a small amount) snow this Saturday night and again next Tuesday. So, I am making a (small, possibly silly) goal of getting Levi out in some fresh snow and having some evidence to show for it! I’m not sure how much more snow we will get now that it’s February, so if the snow suits/boots aren’t on sale, I will probably buy them too big and just let him swim in them this year. I’m kind of cheap like that. ;)

I personally love snow. I know a lot of people are sick of it, but I don’t mind it. It’s not nearly as much fun when you don’t get a snow day, though. I found that out this week! Grown up jobs are kind of lame. I am starting to think I’m getting Winter Blahs- different than the Winter Blues. I need some sunshine and fresh air! I only wish there was a way to hang out outside in the pretty snow without being super cold. Egh. It doesn’t help that it was gray/dark for most of the last 2 weeks, so, even though I sit in front of 2 large windows, I’m not getting any natural light.

Speaking of grown up jobs, I’m starting to wonder what I’m going to do once I’m done with school. I have all sorts of dreams, ideas, and plans. Unfortunately, the ones that I think would be the most fulfilling are the most uncertain. It’s difficult to balance the fact that my family needs some financial security with the fact that I have a vision for what I want to do, and feel I have a calling on my life, that doesn’t promise stable (or really even a lot) of money. It’s difficult to think, “Well, if I take this job where I sit at a desk 5 days a week, I could buy a new house by the end of the year. But… if I follow my “calling” full time, I may not be in a house, in a better school district and with room for a larger family, any time soon.” It’s something I’m struggling with a lot lately. I’ve been in school for about 23 straight years and, although I’ve held a job for most of the last 10 years, none of them have been “careers”. Now that I am facing that time, the time when my PhD should be coming to an end, I’m having a bit of an identity crisis.

I know for a fact that I don’t want to go immediately into being a professor. I just don’t want to be a part of academia right now. I need a break. So, at least I have that settled for me. I wouldn’t mind being a teacher in a smaller, more hands on setting. I would really like to do ministry full time. I could be a pretty good applicant for a high-paying office job. I guess I should just throw some eggs into each basket (apply around) and let God take care of my path. In a perfect world, I would become a Church (and/or Religious Media/Organization) consultant, make enough money to comfortably (and reliably) support my family, and be able to continue to serve in the areas of Youth and Social Justice in Cohoes.

Growing up, the adults in my life didn’t have traditional jobs. My parents were pastors and my, old enough to be a grown-up, sister was an accountant. All I knew of life was that adults got jobs where they could go on vacation for 2 weeks at a time, that one of my parents could take me to an appointment at any time of day, and that someone was home when I got off the school bus. My best friend’s mom growing up was a dance studio owner, so I never met reality there either. It wasn’t until I got pregnant that I started to wonder, “What do people with real jobs do with their kids during summer?” I realized just how clueless I was.

My reality is that I may need a 40-hour a week job. I know that isn’t the end of the world, but it would mean less time with my family and less time available for ministry. Basically, I have to leave this one up to someone other than me. I need to trust that if I put in the work, God will take care of the rest.

Now that this post has transformed into a rambling diatribe on everything and nothing, I’ll be done. Ooh, but coming up? My 101 in 1001 list. One of my goals is to blog every day for a month- aren’t y’all in for a treat! :)

Dry Spell.

I suppose this is the part of the blog where I lament my neglect and promise to update regularly... truth be told, it probably won't happen. Would I love to blog the details of my life every day? Of course. Do I wish I had more of Levi's milestones documented and shared with family and friends? Sure. But that's not how life has worked out this year. And honestly, some days I'm just glad I don't find a puddle of drool at my feet. From me. I find puddles of Levi's drool all over the place. But I digress.

I've experienced a serious emotional dry spell. I don't know what happened to me after having Levi. For the first 6 months I promised myself that it was because he was such a difficult baby. Colic and reflux, ear infections and thyroids. Don't get me wrong, it was a rough start to the small one's life (for all of us). But I guess I just expected that things would level out and I would snap out of my "funk", that I would be myself again. That didn't really happen. I kept saying, "After _____ is over things will be better"- you can fill in that blank with any random event, milestone, or check on my to do list over the last 8 or so months. I'm beginning to think it's me. I'm beginning to think I need to find satisfaction, and even happiness, in my new normal. I'm beginning to think that this is life.

My dry spell has effected every area of my life. Spiritual. Creative. Intellectual. Parental. Marital. Personal.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to be all emo here and tell you how much I hate my life. In fact, when ever I think about it I realize how much I love my life. I have an amazing husband, I'm able to study for a PhD while (sometimes ;) ) being paid, I have an awesome kid with a ton of spunk, and I have a really supportive family. I'm not gonna go all high school on you now. I recognize and appreciate how much I am blessed, I really do. Promise.

I also realize that something is just... off. I am starting to think, though that my perceiving a "funk" is the funk. Ahhh, the medium is the message. Thank you Mr. McLuhan. ;)

What I mean to say is, that it is precisely this perception that something is off that is making me feel off. Did that make sense? Nah? Humor me.

I haven't adjusted in any way to my new normal. Something hasn't sunk in. I keep waiting for things to simplify. The truth is, if I find a way to settle in. To be comfortable in my life. To be satisfied. To adjust to the chaos. I don't think it will feel as chaotic. I think it will feel... like life. Marriage. Kid. School. Job #1. Job #2. Own a daycare. Start a non-profit. Okay, so that's probably not normal. For anyone. But it's my life right now. And I need to stop thinking, "Okay, when summer programs are over life will calm down." Because the reality of my life is that once summer programs are over, school gets back into full swing. And then fall programs start. And then I have to work at some point to contribute to my family's finances. And then it's summer again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

That is my life. That is my normal. I need to learn how to love my reality. Not wish for what I think will make things better.

Love. My. Reality.

Matt and I have been working on ways to simplify within this structure. For now, at least, this is what we have to work with. This is how our life will be at least until I am done with school. All of these other things are added, jobs- necessary, businesses- amazing opportunities, ministries- where my heart is. However, we have managed over the last month or 2 to slow down time. It's like we have a superpower. Or maybe like we pulled our heads out of our collective tush. Either way.

We determined to spend more time together and to embrace our crazy normal. This means you might not see me on chat in the evenings. Wanna know why? Cause I am cuddling with my handsome husband on the couch. This means we pick up our living room every night and take turns with laundry, dishes, and lunch making so that these things don't overwhelm us. This means I have relaxed a little on what I expect from myself each day. It means I have learned to sleep with check boxes on my to-do list unchecked. It means I am coming out of my dry spell. I can write again. I can enjoy what I study. I can laugh with Levi. I can work out and feel like "myself."

Making such conscious decisions has so positively impacted us. Matt and I have definitely grown leaps and bounds as a couple since August. I have settled into my role as a mother (not in a bad way!) and realized that it is not the only thing that defines me. And I have found some motivation.

Other amazing things are happening outside of my personal life as well. I can't tell you how many "random" connections I have made that have brought in money, support, volunteers, and supplies to the various outreaches I am a part of. It's like once I handed over my chaos and embraced it, an army of people came along side to relieve some of my responsibilities. Amazing.

There are still some areas that are out of my control. It's not really public blog worthy, but if you're the praying type- go ahead and mention us.


Bottom Line: I love my reality. It just took me a while to recognize that.


ktw
(levi is 2 days shy of 14 months...yikes!)

A run for our money... part 2.

I believe we last left off with the double ear issue in February. The Z-pack and decongestant seemed to be doing the trick. Levi went in for a check up a week after he finished the antibiotic. I walked into the appointment proclaiming him 100% better, talking about how happy he was and how well he was sleeping. Imagine my surprise when Dr. M looked in his ears and grimaced. Worst. Mom. Ever. He had one ear bulging but not infected, one bright red with yellow-ish fluid (infected). Dr. M explains that he may not be showing signs of an active infection because, at this point, he may just be used to having pressure and pain in his ears. (Hello mommy guilt, nice to make your acquaintance). She wasn't as quick to send him to the ENT as Dr. B was at the previous appointment, so she decides to try out Augmentin- basically the only antibiotic that we haven't tried thus far.

A week after the Augmentin is over, Lev is whiny and not sleeping unless upright. Could be teeth, right? I decided to bring him in just to get checked. If there's no major signs of infection (fever, ear tugging) because of how used to the pain he is :( then I needed to rule it out. We get in there, see Dr. B this time, and sure enough- Ear infection. One infected, one filled with fluid. (This time they are swapped). Dr. B has us make an appointment with an ENT, and to our surprise they got us in a week later (that would be today). They also put us on some amoxocillin (to try and keep the infection from flairing up too badly) and a round of steroids (something we've never tried).

So today we trucked ourselves to Slingerlands, to the ENT specialist Dr. S. She is really sweet, btw. Dr. S reviewed his history, we got a hear test, they tried to move his ear drum, yadda yadda. In the end, she tells us what we already knew- Levi is a strong candidate for ear tubes. She explains it's a ridiculously easy procedure, he wouldn't even need an IV placed or anything. We would be in around 6 am, and out by lunchtime. However, she also explained to us that he wasn't presenting signs of an active infection at the moment and so it was up to us whether we wanted to go ahead with the procedure. Matt and I just looked at each other. Such decisions are much easier when the "experts" make them for you.

We asked a lot of questions. The biggest one being- is it more likely that the Steroids actually worked once and for all or that the infection always goes away during the course of antibiotics and just returned within a week? We have never been at the doctors during a course of antibiotics, so it is entirely possible that the infection is responding to the medicine and we never knew it. If that's not the case, though and the steroids happened to do the trick, we would be doing the surgery "for nothing". Except that Dr. S seemed to think that tubes were inevitable, saying it was only a matter of time. She told us we could wait it out and hope for him to dry out on his own but we may just end up back in her office in a month.

In the end, Matt and I decided to go with the surgery. I think my main reason is that in the long run, the surgery will have less effects on his little body than the continuous use of antibiotics, decongestants, ibuprofen, and whatever else they want us to try. The fact that the procedure is really basic makes the decision a bit easier for us. We are scheduled to arrive at 6am April 1st.

What I am realizing is that being a parent is full of decisions that may seem silly or easy to those outside the situation, but feel like massive weights for us. Thanks for all your advice and prayers, we are feeling confident in this decision and hope that Levi will be more comfortable as a result.

ktw

levi is 7m2w5d

Faster Than You.

Yesterday began the lenten season. I think Protestants overlook lent too much, identifying it as "too Catholic" for a Protestant to do. For me, it's the most important, if not my favorite season on the liturgical calendar. It's always been something we observed in my household. My father used to fast during the day, eating family meals together. Other infamous fasts from my dad include his "speeding fast" his "news fast" and his "e-mail fast." Fasting has never been a legalistic ritual in my family or church's practice, but more of an effort to share in some way the "suffering" of Christ. As Americans, it is too easy to never suffer. Have a headache? Grab some tylenol. Hungry? Go to the grocery store, McDonald's etc. Have a large gash on your foot? Head to the ER for stitches. And so on. I truly believe it is time for Western Christians to learn how to suffer.

This view has only been stressed more as I have experienced this week before Lent, where everyone asks "What are you giving up for Lent?" Each time I explain my fast, the Daniel Fast, I get some eye rolls, some wincing, or some "ha ha's." Lovely. Thanks for the support. The thing is, maybe the Daniel Fast isn't right for you. But for me? Food has always been a huge issue. Spending most of my high school experience purposely eating too little, and much of my adult life eating whatever was easiest or closest, I have never had a good relationship with food. And so, for me, the Daniel Fast is the right choice. This fast (which I have done 3 or 4 times before) forces me to read labels, cook at home, bring lunch, and plan ahead. It makes me stare my everyday food choices in the face. I can't just pretend I'm "too busy" to eat food that doesn't come out of a window.

Will it be difficult? Sure. But isn't that the point of a fast? Last night, at our Ash Wednesday Service, the sermon was titled "Blessed are those who Hunger and Thirst for Righteousness." The sermon struck such a chord with me. I have been thinking and worrying about my direction lately, wondering all too often what "God's plan for my life is." Making it ALWAYS. ABOUT. ME. Instead, during this lenten season, I am hoping that the hunger I feel throughout the day, the desire I have for Diet Coke or dessert will teach me a lesson about what it means to desire, to hunger for God. If that is my focus. How can my purpose not be clear?

Matt and I have entered this journey together. We do not intend to be legalistic about it. The fast is generally done for 21 days and lent is 45 or so. So we have altered it a bit in a way that is meaningful to us. We intend to fully participate in family events and celebrations, bringing food or doing our best at a restaurant to follow the rules.

I hope there is some suffering on my part. I hope that I hunger. That I desire. And that through this, I focus. And learn.

What is your sacrifice? If you aren't participating yet, I urge you to consider doing so. Give up something that might cause some discomfort. It's only 6 weeks. Your soda/sweets/internet/fried food will still be there when you're done. And you may just gain something from it!

ktw

"He's really given you a run for your money."

This post could also be called "Levi wants to be an only child"

Levi has had his share of, ahem, issues in his short 6 months. Born early, wouldn't eat, jaundice, thyroid issues, swine flu, reflux... oh and that pesky little thing called colic. Ugh, colic. I wouldn't wish that on an enemy.

And it continues. To give some background, Levi went in to the pedi office on December 7th because he had a nasty cough and screamed when we tried to lay him down for bed or naps. Sure enough, ear infection. They put him on some amoxocillin and sent us on our way. We were naive and full of hope. And dang if Levi didn't love that stuff, I mean, who didn't as a kid?!

We thought he was getting better until he starting having a gross runny nose around Christmas. He woke the morning of his 5 month appointment (December 28th for those keeping track) with green stuff coming out of his nose (yum), his eye crusted shut, and a fever. Lovely. At that appointment they determined he had a nasal infection (basically a sinus infection, except he doesn't have sinuses yet), pink eye, and (you guessed it) an ear infection. Presumably the first infection never cleared fully. So, this time we walked out of the office with Omnicef. Something I had never heard of.

10 days pass, medicine runs out. Pink eye is clear. Nose is still a bit gunky but not too bad, but he's still quite miserable. We call on January 8th. Bring him in. Nurses and pedi say "sometimes sinuses and ear together take 2 rounds of antibiotic, no worries." Second round of Omnicef. Only go for 7 days this time. Mmmmkay.

Are we catching where this is going?

Last friday night he started refusing the bottle. If there is one thing Levi never refuses, it's food. He's 18.5 lbs for goodness sake! He generally eats 4-5 6oz bottles a day. For the next 6 days (it's still continuing) he refuses to eat even 3 bottles. I am lucky to be getting 12-15 oz in him. And the sleep, or should I say, lack of sleep. From Friday - Tuesday he was waking every 20-40 minutes. It was awful. If Matt and I were that miserable, I can't imagine how bad he was feeling.

So, back to the pedi office we go on Tuesday. Ears are red but they can't tell if he is still getting better from the last infection or if it's the start of a new infection. Come back Thursday for his 6 month appointment and shots and we'll check him again. Oh, and the mucous and phlegm don't sound stuck, no bronchitis- Thank the Good Lord. Pedi tells us to use benadryl and ibuprofen at night to try and help him.

Cue Thursday- today. Still no eating, boo. We went to our evening appointment and sure enough, both ears are bright red. No bulging, so if it is a new infection it's not that bad yet. This pedi (we've seen 2) looks at his charts and realizes that he has been on antibiotics for 30 of the last 60 days. In his words, he is nervous about more antibiotics because he doesn't want him to get "gut rot." Lovely. He's wondering if he should have a round of steroids but quickly dismisses that.

In the end, we leave with a light prescription for a z-pac. We have to go back on the 21st. At that point it will have been basically 3 months since the ear infection was first discovered. If, at that point, the ears are still showing signs of infection we have to go off to the ENT. He's really too young for tubes, but the pedi thinks it could be a structural issue that is keeping everything from draining.

So yeah. I think Levi wants to be an only child.


However, the boy does really like him some paper.

A strange union.

Sometimes I am so curious about how Matt and I ever ended up together. We are very different people, and I think that's the reason why we actually work well together. Our biggest difference has to be in our time management. Matt is a wonderful father, a devoted husband, all of those great things, but a planner? He is not. I, on the other hand, get delight from making lists of the lists I need to make. And then making those lists and carrying them with me everywhere. In fact, without a calendar and notebook of lists, I don't think I'd get anything done. Matt's lack of planning has become an endearing quality, though it wasn't always that way. It used to frustrate me to no end that he never had an answer for questions like, "What time is Christmas dinner at your moms?" or that he was regularly a few minutes late for things. He doesn't rush and he doesn't bother himself with the stress of planning. Which I guess works for some people, but not for me!

My favorite example of Matt's spur-of-the-moment style is his proposal, where he decided on random April morning that he would propose... that day. Lucky for him he was using his mother's ring and didn't have to wait. He also didn't realize that it was APRIL FOOL'S DAY!!! My father had to tell him when he went that morning to ask permission! He still asked that day anyway. But really, how perfectly does that scenario fit his personality?!

Today we have to go to one of his friend's housewarming party. He told me last night that it went from 5-8pm, so we would run late morning and get ready and head out around dinner time. So, imagine my surprise when I went to look for the address on the e-mail invite (that only Matt got) and it said (in big letters) between Noon & 5. Hahaha. All I could do was laugh.

His style is so different from my own and I am thankful for that. I don't think I could have married someone as Type A as me. Matt reminds me to slow down and not take things so seriously. I have learned not only to love him in spite of lateness and non-planning, but to love him because of those things. Because they make me a better person, and they certainly make us a less stressed couple.

He is going to be my picture for Day 7. Once I get up and get going. We have forgone the lists and the busy to-dos today and enjoyed coffee and bagels in bed while playing with Levi. I have it good.

Day 6.

I kind of failed today. I knew the person I wanted to call all day, and kept trying to call. However, the afternoon was a bit rough. It can be summed up by saying that Levi's usual 2 hour afternoon nap (which is my only time to get things done) only lasted 35 minutes. He is apparently revolting against sleep today, he didn't fall asleep for good until 10 45!!! Anyway, between him and the Christmas decorating night at church it was too late to call when I got home. So, instead I sent a text telling them I would be calling tomorrow. Bah! I tried anyway.

Tomorrow will be grateful phone call and the completion of workout week 1! Woot!