Cuz I'm Pregnant Badge

Yesterday I was walking down our upstairs hall and the wall hit me in the shoulder (Yes, it hit me. Not the other way around). I slapped it with my hand and kicked it with my foot while shouting, "What the 'f'"?

Last week I was standing in the kitchen and I realized we were out of something I wanted and I stomped my feet on the ground -- in front of the kids.

In the past month I've had to turn myself from a psycho mother into a "scary monster" more times than I can count. Do you ever do that? I freak out for a second while the kids stare at me wide-eyed and then I quickly change gears and pretend in a loud, booming voice that grumble, grumble, "I'm a big monster." I'm telling you it works.

I got so emotional watching The Blind Side in the waiting room during Jack's appendectomy that I couldn't look over at the TV. There wasn't even any sound. And don't get me started on Andrea Bocelli's lullaby to Elmo. Ball city.

I'm constantly tired. I'm constantly annoyed. I don't want to see anyone. I've lost all sense of FOMO. I'm a recluse. I want to sit on my couch all day and then cry about how lonely, sad, despairing and desperate I am. What has happened to the super fun, let's hang out, always up in everyone's business Lauren?

Michael keeps telling me it's "cuz you're pregnant that you're crazy." Is it? What if I've morphed into someone totally different? What if I've lost me? What if the b-witch switch has been permanently turned on?

I know my body is in overdrive -- I'm producing more blood, my heart is working harder, my pulse is 10-15 beats faster per minute, my fat cells are expanding :). I am a baby factory. I guess that could make a difference in how a gal feels, right? Tell me it's true.

So all this to say, I want so desperately to pull the "cuz I'm pregnant" card. I deserve it. I'm hard at work and quite fatigued just sitting here eating peanut butter and crackers.

But guess what happened? As soon as I'm about to settle in for a night of self pity and reflection (writing this blog post), there's a knock on my door. It's one of my girlfriends and her husband dropping off a book of mine. I begin my usual rant of how much it sucks to be pregnant and then I remember. I remember that she and her husband have been trying for awhile -- after a devastating miscarriage -- to get pregnant with their first baby. Ugh. Lauren, just shut up.

I know my feelings are real. I feel them. They feel true to me - I really felt like I wanted to fight my wall. But when does it come time to just say to yourself, "Suck it up? You're pregnant. Lucky you. Do you know how many women long to be in your shoes? Quit your whining and be thankful -- sucka."

So tonight I'm stuffing my "Cuz I'm Pregant" card back in my pocket. I'm sure it will resurface. But for now I'm picking a "Cuz I'm Grateful" one.

The FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) Badge

This is how it happens to me. I'm bored. I log on to Facebook. I read. I read more. Then, depending on what appears on my wall ... it starts. It begins to creep into my thoughts. It becomes my filter through which I read all updates and view all mobile uploads. It compels me to keep perusing the pages. Finally, it forces me to close my computer. Now, I'm not only bored, I'm lonely, depressed, bitter.

Why are all my friends having more fun than me?

Where are they ... together?

What are they doing ... together?

Why haven't I been invited?

Do I even have any friends?

It is FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) -- "The sharp pang of envy that comes when someone you are following on the social networking site is clearly having a better time than you are — right now." I read about it several months ago in this NY Times article. It so perfectly articulated what I feel almost every time I look at Facebook.

"I'm having such a fun time with all my best friends today at the beach! Yay!"

"I can't wait to hang out with my favorite people tonight and have the most fun ever!"

"I am so excited about all the amazing things I have going with all my friends this weekend. I can't wait."

Mobile Upload: "Night out with the girls!"

What about me? Maybe if I was confident enough, comfortable enough, secure enough these updates wouldn't bother me. I'd be excited for my friends, thankful they have the opportunity to have a great time. While I hate to admit it, I'm just not there yet. FOMO has a hold on me.

Thinking back to high school, I remember my friends talking on Monday mornings about parties they went to or people they hung out with on the weekend. There were always a few inside jokes and some funny stories, but that was about it. The excitement faded by fourth period.

It's different now.

"Social media has made us even more aware of the things we are missing out on," writes Caterina Fake, co-founder of Flickr on her blog. "You’re home alone, but watching your friends status updates tell of a great party happening somewhere. You are aware of more parties than ever before...If you didn’t know that party was going on, you’d be home contentedly reading your latest New Yorker. But since you do, you hungrily watch each new tweet."

I don't just find out about social occasions after the fact. I read about them before, during and after. I see pictures before, during and after. All the while, I'm fully aware (sitting in my pajamas in my living room) that I'm not part of the fun. Ugh. When will that ever feel OK?

So what do I do? Quit my whining. Yeah, a little. Suck it up. OK, fine. Quit Facebook. No, I need it. It's how I organize my social life. Quit Facebook stalking. Maybe that will work. I don't have a solution. All I know is that it's an age-old problem (Hello, Moses and the 10th commandment? "You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor's."). And it's been wildly exacerbated by our desire to "connect" on the world wide web.

I'm not saying it's wrong to post about friends and festivities. That's what Facebook is all about, right -- "Giving people the power to share and make the world more open and connected?" It's just that this kind of social networking (voyeurism?!) has opened us (I'm speaking for dozens of girlfriends) up to a whole new level/kind of insecurity.

One of my good friends told me that whenever she posts a status, she always has one person in mind who has been through a difficult season of life (by no fault of her own). "I always think, 'How would this make her feel to read it?'" she said. I know I can't take that argument too far -- anything I write could upset anyone for any reason. But I like the sentiment. It's thoughtful and considerate, some quality characteristics that Facebook and its members could use a little more of.

The Kissing and Clapping Badge

Kissing and Clapping. I'm finding more and more that these two seemingly unrelated actions have more in common in my life at the moment than I ever would have thought.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After the first time Michael and I kissed -- like really kissed -- I started clapping and jumping up and down in my driveway (in front of him). Yep, I am that 16-year-old girl.

Well, I haven't noticed until recently the K&C combo making a comeback in my life. Don't worry. I haven't taken to locking lips with anyone new. My marriage vows are intact. It's just that I started this new workout class at the Y and I feel compelled to clap in it - a lot. My workout partner, Beth, is always smirking at me when I do it. That's because I'm always the only one. I just can't do a grapevine and not clap. It's the curtsy, the bow -- the finishing touch to the move, you know?

At first I felt embarrassed about my clapping and I kept it to a minimum. But lately I've just started to let loose. It's kind of fun and liberating. I am confident enough to clap and enjoy myself even if no one else does. Now I clap when we step side to side and when we rotate corners (Don't ask! You wouldn't understand unless you're an aspiring step professional like myself.). I've noticed that the more I've been clapping, other people are joining in, too. Beth can't seem to help herself now either. Having fun and not taking yourself too seriously are contagious. I think everyone would clap if they felt comfortable enough.

A few weeks ago I went to a U2 concert -- amazing. There was this lady a few rows ahead of us who was dancing crazy. I saw people pointing at her and laughing. At first I thought she was a weirdo. But the more I watched her, the more I felt like, wow, I want to be free enough to dance like that. I want to be free of any insecurities that would hold me back from fully enjoying myself like she was. I figured deep down everyone in that arena wanted to just let go like her (Michael argued that point and said he had no desire to dance similar to her in any way. Whatev.).

But it's hard, awkward, embarrassing to let it all hang out, right? Who wants to look foolish? I finally did decide to take my cues from the "crazy" lady much to the dismay of my self-conscious brain. I started dancing and screaming and waving my long gangly arms all over the place, too. It was so fun. I felt so free.

Now to the kiss part.

I rank average on the affectionate scale. I love hugs, cuddles and kisses. But I'm not known for that like some of my other friends. (One of my friends Andrea is the best and hardest hugger. She's so small and cute. You would never expect her to dole out these amazing bear hugs. She is from Alaska though. Maybe she was actually instructed by a bear how to be such a great embracer!!) Anyway.

Two of my very best friends, Matt and Laura, moved to Denver in April. It was such a difficult time for me. I seriously wore all black for a good week or two. Nothing else seemed right. While still recovering from the initial shock of their departure, Michael surprised me with a trip to meet up with our friends in Phoenix at a conference. Wahoo!

I was so excited when we finally arrived. I couldn't wait for our reunion. When they finally pulled up at the airport to pick us up, I was so overcome with emotion that I told Laura, "I just have to kiss you ... on the lips." And I did. Normally I would feel so ridiculous about doing something like this. But I felt compelled to.

I'm telling you, it was way better than just a hug. It felt like a more complete and sweet greeting. I walked away feeling like I want to greet everyone that way. The dilemma I face is how to introduce that one to my circle of friends? Do I just start going in for the kiss? I'm not bold enough. Maybe I should start with an air kiss, progress to a cheek kiss, work my way to an eskimo kiss and then move in for the kill. Let me know if you have any thoughts on bringing the lip kiss back. I'm all in.

All this to say, I have decided to start kissing and clapping more. Watch out world. I'm letting loose.

Stalker Badge

There I am inspecting what kind of peppers I want to purchase at the Meijer on Plainfield, when I look up and see her.

She has bright red hair -- the Run Lola Run kind. Her arms are covered in sleeves of the most intricate and colorful tattoos. A few of her diamond-studded facial piercings sparkle under the fluorescent light. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look quite so out of place.

Have you been to the Plainfield Meijer? Let's just say it's not located in Grand Rapids' cultural epicenter or hipster hot spot. (A few miles north of the Lazy T Motel, I think this Meijer's zip code may house more sex offenders than anywhere else in the GR area. Just a guess from my minimal research. I, in fact, reside only a short distance away as well.)

Anyway, the girl stood out and certainly got my attention. There was something about her. I just had this strong feeling that I had to get to know her, that I wanted her as my friend. I don't quite know what it was, but I'm telling you my shopping trip suddenly took on a whole new purpose -- meet hot girl, introduce myself and make her my friend. Mission accepted.

It was one of those things where I kept saying to myself, "If she's walking in the next aisle I turn down, we're meant to meet (and be best friends!! hehehe)." I sound crazy. I'm crazy.

Well, after about 30 minutes of shopping, I kept spotting her from a distance. I wasn't stalking, I promise. I let my grocery list - not my new best friend - dictate my direction. She just kept standing out.

Toward the end of my trip, I ran into my good friend Kasey. I told her about "the girl" and how I wanted to meet her. After cracking up a bit, she told me to go for it. We looked around for her in the produce area and tracked her in the checkout lane. Oh no. This was it. Now or never. Kasey shouted, "Go, go, go!" And I did.

I hauled my loaded-down cart to the self-checkout lane (Sidenote -- I despise this lane. This shows you how committed I was.) The girl was finishing up bagging her items. I walked right up to her and said, "You are so beautiful. I love your look. I saw you and feel like I just have to be friends with you." Ahhhhhh! Looking back I realize how totally ridiculous and weird this is. I think I'm blushing as I write this. But I was caught up in a crazy moment.

She seemed a little taken aback. Rightly so! But then she said, "Thanks so much. That is so nice." We made small talk for a few seconds and then she asked me if I have a hair stylist. Turns out she works at the Aveda school. She gave me her card and told me to schedule an appointment. She offered to do my hair and added that it would give us a chance to chat more! Nicely done, Lauren.

But that's not all.

A few minutes later as I'm self scanning a ridiculous amount of items, she comes back to another self-checkout lane right in front of me. She must have forgotten something. I seized the moment again. "I hope you don't think I'm crazy," I gushed. "I just think you look like so much fun. I had to say something." And you'll never guess what she said next. Since moving here last summer, she's had a ridiculous time making friends (Something I've heard over and over again about West Michigan. But that's for another post another time!). She said it's been a lot harder than she thought it would be.

I couldn't believe it. I made a complete ass of myself. But what if I have a new friend because of it? She did give me her card, you know. I would like to insert right here that I met one of my very best friends in my doctor's office a few years ago because I thought she seemed nice and easy to talk to in the waiting room. We exchanged Facebook info via our nurses.

It just got me thinking that maybe I want to live more like this. Two things. One, I want to be intentional everywhere I go about looking for opportunities to meet people. Two, when I see someone I want to meet for who knows what reason I decide to just go for it. What in the world do I have to lose? I can handle weird looks, snobbery and rejection. It'd so be worth it in the end if I had a gaggle of new friends.

The Love Badge. He's Right (Jesus and Rob Bell). It's true. Love Wins.

I don't know where to begin.

I could start with this past weekend when I got the phone call about my Aunt Lindsey's sudden death. But that doesn't do this justice. It goes further back than that.

Maybe December 2005? That's when my Aunt Jane made the unfortunate choice to forego calling my mother to inform her about her dad's (my grandfather's) funeral. My mom found out about it after the fact from Lindsey. Big ouch. They haven't spoken since.

Or what about when my Grandma died? I was in elementary school and didn't really understand the dynamics of funerals and the seemingly inevitable family dysfunction that accompanies them. All I knew was that my mom and Jane were furious that Lindsey had taken some prized keepsakes from my Grandma's home without asking them about it first. Years passed before Jane and Lindsey could be in the same room together.

Are you seeing a pattern emerge here?

So when that call -- ugh, I hate that call -- came Saturday afternoon, I was filled with sadness and dread. Here we go again.

It had been 5 1/2 years since my mother and I had spoken to my Aunt Jane. Weird, I know. Childish, maybe a little. Sometimes it's just hard to let go of an egregious act like that. I wasn't as personally tormented by it as my mom. More so for me, I was pissed because someone had so deeply wounded her.

Needless to say, I boarded the plane to North Carolina with a lot more baggage than my cute Bath and Body Works carry-on. I honestly felt like I was walking into a hornet's nest. It was the first time in my life I felt like I couldn't face something alone. I begged Michael to come with me and being the sweet and sensitive guy that he is, he did.

The whole trip down I just kept thinking I wanted this time to be different. Could it be? Could I dare hope for anything more? What could break this cycle? We're talking decades-old patterns of anger and hurt and unforgiveness and bitterness.

Michael and I along with my parents arrived late Sunday evening to our hotel in Wallace, North Carolina. Ever heard of it? Me neither. We weren't needed at the house until Monday afternoon. Ugh. The anticipation was driving me mad. I couldn't eat. I couldn't not think about what the day would bring.

The more I thought and thought and talked and talked and prayed and prayed about it, the more I felt clear about one thing. I wanted to shock my aunt. (Well, at first I didn't. But then Michael convinced me otherwise.) I knew she would be expecting the worst from us. After all, didn't we have every right to loathe her? Who does what she did? Yet despite all that, I felt this strong desire to overwhelm her with love.

Say what?!

Let's be clear here. This thought couldn't have been my thought. I think I'm a pretty loving person. It's just that I have this little bitty issue with justice. Oh, how I love it when people get what's coming to them. It feels so good and right. This "overwhelming with love" thing didn't really jive with my justice loving. Love her when she deserves anything but my love. Ew.

I had all these scenarios running in my head that I'd walk in and just pretend that I didn't notice her. I'd make her come to me. She'd have to feel and confront and bathe in the awkwardness. OK. I retract the "I'm a pretty loving person" description. I'm gross!

Going against everything that felt natural and safe, I committed to God and to myself that I would greet her extravagantly, that I would let go of all the "righteous" anger and annoyance I'd been holding onto. Once I decided this was the plan of action, the feelings followed. I suddenly, immediately wanted to shower her with love and kindness. I wanted to see her. I wanted her to know things could be different, that there's another, better way to live. Isn't that strange? I usually wait for feelings to come first before I act. Unfortunately it seems like that rarely happens with forgiveness.

Moment of truth -- we walked into the large plantation home. She's not in the kitchen. Phew. It gave me a minute to get my bearings and to have a cry with my uncle. She's not in the dining room or the den. Hmmm. And then, I see her. It's go time. I run over to her and wrap my arms around her and tell her how much I've missed her, how I'm so sad it's been so long, how I think about her so often. Oh my...the look on her face. Pure, utter shock. She barely hugged me back or said a word for several minutes. I don't think she knew what to do. And the most amazing part? My mom followed suit and hugged her and told her how much she loved her.

By the end of the night they were googling together and trying on each other's perfume. My mom told me today that they spent two hours talking about what happened and how they had hurt one another. Seriously, is this for real? This doesn't happen. This isn't natural. I've never seen this on an episode of Real Housewives or Jersey Shore or The Practice. You've hurt me. You've betrayed me. But I'm going to love you despite all that. Love. Love. Love.

Mr. Bell, and I guess more significantly, Jesus, are so right on. Love wins. It won this weekend. It always wins. I can't ever think of a time it hasn't and won't continue to.

There's this song I've been listening to obsessively lately and I just love the lyrics...

His love is deep, His love is wide

And it covers us

His love is fierce, His love is strong

It is furious

His love is sweet, His love is wild

And it's waking hearts to life

My heart was most certainly awakened this weekend.

Saying No to Systems Badge

My husband Michael is always trying to systematize my life. Why would a responsible woman like myself need that, you ask? Well, because I lose things a lot. A lot. I never set things (keys, debit card, wallet, phone) down in the same place. Therefore, I am constantly hunting for them.

Yesterday at Meijer I buckled the kids in and unloaded the groceries from the cart into the car. At some point during the span of those two events, I misplaced my keys. Whoops. I looked all over the front seat. Not there. I looked behind my seat and in my purse. Not there either. Hmmmm. I knew they had to be around somewhere. I was, after all, sitting in my car that had previously been locked before I clicked it open two minutes beforehand. So, I got out of the car and opened the trunk where the groceries were. Nope. My one last hope before I freaked out -- I opened the sliding door and aha, there they were tucked behind Ella's car seat.

I got back into the driver's seat and sat for a minute thinking about the ridiculousness of this situation. I thought, "I need a system. I need to always set my keys in the same place." Then a new thought occurred to me. "I don't need a system. This is good for me."

• Searching for my keys keeps me on my toes. (I never know where they might end up)
• Searching for my keys keeps my brain stimulated. (As a mother of three littles, I am in danger of brain muscle atrophy)
• Searching for my keys increases my critical thinking skills. (I'm thinking of many different places my keys could be and many different scenarios that will play out if I can't find them)
• Searching for my keys builds my character (patience)
• Searching for my keys develops my spiritual life (Dear God, where are my keys? Please help)

Forget systems. I would forego so much personal growth if I implemented them.

Today I lost my phone. I scoured the house inside and out. I could not find it anywhere. So, I got on Facebook to find someone online to call it for me (Critical Thinking). I've had to do this several times. My great friend Julie Gleason was live on chat, so she called my phone a bunch until I found it sitting on the roof of my van in the driveway. Add to the list:

• Searching for my phone helps me build relationships and rely on others (Hey FB friend, can you call me?)

All that to say, I'm thankful for the growth in my life due to lost keys, phones and other personal effects. Keep it coming.

A few asides:

• I did get up at 3:45 a.m. to prepare for my Royal Wedding Party. It was a riot. I haven't laughed so hard in awhile! Pics are on FB.
• I have a bite on my eyelid that I thought was a bite, but then today I thought it was a pimple. So I kept picking at it and now it's so swollen I could barely see out of it earlier. Gross. I think it is a bite. All my neighbors told me they didn't even notice it while we were playing outside today. Liars. "See that giant pink unicorn that just landed in the front yard?" "Uh, nope, what are you talking about?" My eye now protrudes like Dobby the house elf! Great look for my 30th birthday weekend!
• Have you ever read the children's book, Have You Filled A Bucket Today? I totally recommend it. It's a really easy way to teach kids how to be loving and thoughtful.

I'm throwing Snow White in the trash Badge

Well, so much for uninterrupted Timer Time. Dang it. Ev and Jack have each been out of their rooms twice this afternoon. Ugh. Don't worry though. I'm sticking with it. I will get some free time.

This morning Evelyn asked me to give her a makeover before we went to our Bright Beginnings play group. I asked her what she was talking about and she told me she wanted me to make her prettier than all the other girls that would be there. Seriously? So, I went into this whole shpeel about how everyone is equally beautiful and God makes us all unique and special in our own way - we don't need painted nails or makeup. I felt proud of my lofty oration until she asked at the end, "Can you still make me prettier?"

How in the world does she even know what a makeover is or what it means to be prettier than someone else? She told me it's from Snow White. I've watched Snow White and I don't remember that part. Does she get a makeover by the Dwarves? I thought she redid their cottage? Whatever. I'm throwing that movie in the trash. Done and done!

Then at play group, Evelyn painted a picture and brought it over to me. In front of other moms she announced it was a TV. Really? Not a dinosaur like that girl or a bug like that little boy? No, a TV. I felt exposed. Darn that Red Box. We have been frequent patrons these past few rainy days.

Two asides ...

1. I will be wearing my wedding dress at 4:45 a.m. tomorrow morning drinking mimosas with a few of my girlfriends. You all are welcome to join us. Royal Wedding time!
2. I am making veggie meatloaf (weird and impossible, right?) tonight. It's amazing. Trust me. Vegetarian meals are always better. They have to be because vegetables are, well let's be honest, gross. So they have to be seasoned super yummy! This recipe doesn't even have any!! Here it is...

• 3 eggs beaten
• 1 pint small curd cottage cheese
• 2 cups special K cereal
• 2 cups rice krispies
• 1/4 cup ground walnuts
• 1/4 cup oil
• 1 package of liptons onion cup of soup
• Ketchup

Preheat oven to 375. Mix all ingredients. Place in 8X8. Cover with foil. Cook 45 minutes. Take foil off. Add Ketchup and cook 15 minutes more. (You can use all Krispies or K if you need to!)

Enjoy!

I'm Going to be a Better Blogger Badge

I suck at blogging. I was so excited about starting this daily "journal" of mundane motherhood feats and I just haven't stuck with it.

Well, I'm going to do better. I must do better. There's something therapeutic in looking back over my totally chaotic day and giving myself a few badges. And I must admit there's something super gratifying in other people knowing about my successes and failures. Call it vanity, neediness, affirmation junky. Whatev. I just don't want to be on this crazy journey alone. I want people in on it.

Heck yes I just bounced Ella on my knee, played Chutes and Ladders with Jack and face painted a rockin' butterfly on Evelyn's face - all at the same time. Who can do that? I thought breastfeeding and stirring a pot of soup was an accomplishment. I have come so far as a mother. Um, and I also just walked Cody, pushed Ella in her Little Tikes car and helped Jack and Ev ride their new bikes around the entire block. It's true.

If I had been documenting all the kick-ass things I've done in the last two years since I started this blog, I would have like 30 vests full of badges in my closet. Currently I only have one with just a few pieces of flair, at least according to this live document. And that just won't do for a girl who is about to turn 30 in a few days. I need all the badges, back slaps and atta girls I can get, especially when it comes to mothering and wifing and friending and on and on and on.

So, here we go. Some new vests - fully flaired - in my closet this year. Year 30 (technically 31 as my dad says, meaning I don't need to have a big bash or many presents for my bday this year because my official 30th was last year. Whatever Dad). Happy birthday to me.

Today's Badges

• I started this thing called Timer Time. Jack and Ev are no longer taking rests. It's driving me crazy. I need to not see them for at least one hour during the middle of the day. So, for my sanity and their safety, we've started Timer Time. We bought colored timers from the Dollar Tree (Thanks for the recommendation from my friend Corinn) and both of them have to stay in their rooms for 60 minutes until the timer goes off. They are only allowed to come out to go to the bathroom. If they yell to me or ask questions - discipline. They can do whatever they want in their room - except yell to me or ask me questions. Get it? It's worked fabulously for two days. Ask me in a week how it's going. We'll see. But I'm encouraged today.
• I took all the kids in their rain boots down the street to a large puddle and let them search for worms and get totally disgusting and wet. I almost barfed at one point as Jack proudly showed me his hand covered in worms. Bleh. I told him how awesome it was. Ew.
• I've also decided that if I'm wearing an outfit that I feel cute in and it doesn't get dirty, I'm wearing it two days in a row, maybe even three. I'm on my second day of a sweet Arcade Fire t-shirt. I'm on day three of a pair of black skinny jeans. Why stop the good thing I've got going here?!!