Early awakenings can be a gift

I woke up way too early this morning. I'm not a morning person, and can honestly sleep until noon most of the time, if I am allowed to. So, when my eyes popped open in my dark bedroom and I rolled over to see a red digital 5:02 staring at me from my nightstand, it really surprised me. Especially because I wasn't groggy enough to just roll over and go back to sleep this time.

My dog was the first to notice that I was up way earlier than usual, and eagerly hopped out of her bed with her tail wagging, begging for an early morning stroll in the damp grass. When we returned, I snuggled back into my warm bed and entertained myself with a few quick games of Candy Crush Saga, half-way determined to fall back asleep soon. When my husband suddenly stopped snoring and turned over beside me, I worried about waking him and quickly put the iPad away. I laid back down for a while.

I tossed and turned for about forty minutes before finally admitting that I wasn't going to fall back asleep anytime soon, and would likely end up in the Starbucks line sometime this afternoon, with sore eyes and a deeper irritation than usual that they never seem to get my drink right. I grabbed my phone and got ready to start deleting a ton of junk e-mail...but then, one of my inbox messages instantly caught my attention. It was an e-mail from the contact person at the orphanage in Uganda that I'm involved with! I don't hear from him that often because the Internet reception is pretty iffy out there. 

I love to hear from this man, for so many reasons! He greets me "in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ," which is much more charming than the simple "hellos" that we Americans have conditioned ourselves to type without any real meaning, just for the sake of good manners. There is genuine warmth in the way that people in Uganda embrace us, even through e-mail. I also love to hear about how the orphanage is doing...there isn't a better reminder for me of what a real difference our mission's time and money is making in the lives of its orphans! I usually spend all day, if not week, reflecting on some of the news that he sends from across the world.

I know that when most of us decide to sponsor an orphan in a third-world country, we really do have the best intentions at heart. We hear about all these sweet little kids that wear rags, and walk around dirt floors without any shoes, and if it's not enough that both of their parents were tragically killed, they're also starving, gosh dangit! It tugs on our heartstrings, and we can't say "no" to helping them, once we've imagined that kind of sadness. After all, what kind of person would refuse to help a child that's suffering like that? Especially if it's only thirty bucks a year? We love to guilt ourselves into good deeds, we Americans.

We sign up to "sponsor" these poor children, and feel those warm fuzzies while we're ripping a check from our wallet, and feel a little guiltier than usual while we're at the pizza joint with our own well-fed offspring, and feel like we're really making a difference when we tape their photographs to our refrigerators. We might think about them for a few days, or even a week, and brainstorm some ideas about how we can move Heaven and Earth to find a better way to feed them. All the while, our own kitchen counters are piling up with bills and dirty dishes, and we're running late to another soccer game...and...gradually...we stop looking at that picture on our fridge. It somehow gets lost in the shuffle of the wedding announcements and party invitations that compete for magnet space. 

And something else happens, somewhere along the way: the initial desire that drove us to commit to sponsoring this child begins to fade. We stop praying for them every night, and we procrastinate on writing their letters, and it becomes just another item on our to-do list. We definitely didn't mean for it to happen that way...we care about these kids, we really do. Our American culture is driven almost purely by feeling. So, naturally, when our original feelings of desire to help these children started to fade, our commitment did, too.

So, I read the brief and jovial update from the orphanage with a big smile on my face...because I, too, need frequent reminders of the fact that, despite how busy my schedule is, my real passion is to help these orphans. Our contact person asked if we found "friends" for the two new orphans yet, and I instantly responded and told him the good news: we had! He wrote back almost immediately and told me that these two new orphans constantly approached him to ask about their new friends, and were very eager to receive their letters and shoes from them, which they did not have the benefit of receiving last time (since they were new).

It blessed me so much to hear how much our letters and small monetary donations really mean to these children. To us, shoes are a necessity...to them, they are a true gift that they eagerly await. These orphans are genuinely grateful for all that they receive, and we all have a lot to learn from them!

I wish that fall would wait

This morning, Autumn received a very warm welcome on Facebook. Pictures of pumpkins and colorful fall leaves graced the newsfeed, and it seemed like most of my social media friends expressed some excitement about the season, whether it was high hopes for their football team or a Pinterest post on how to craft the perfect caramel apple. Fred Meyer wasn't much different...it smelled like cinnamon and cloves, and the aisles were packed with Halloween candy and costumes. 

Fall is my favorite time of year, despite the fact that I spend its Saturdays sitting in the cold rain and staring at a bright grey sky at my daughter's soccer games, and then cleaning a lot of mud out of our backseat once we're home. I just love decorating my home with scarecrows, and baking zucchini bread, and I'm usually the first in line for a pumpkin spice latte. But, not this time. 

For the first time ever, I'm not really that excited about fall. I never thought I would ever say that, but it's true, and I don't know why. Maybe because this year seems to have passed even more quickly than usual, or because I didn't have much of a vacation this summer? Whatever the reason, this fall feels like a Sunday evening around 5 p.m...that witching hour that I spend worrying that I didn't cross more off of my to-do list over the weekend. Not because I sat around in my pajamas eating popcorn, but because there's just too much on it, and I never say "no" to hanging out with friends and family. 

Fall feels like a ticking clock that's taunting me about all of the new year's resolutions that I kept moving to the back burner and rescheduling for the past several months, and now it's becoming a reality that my goals might not be accomplished this year. I didn't lose all that weight that I wanted to drop (and this is year number three of that), and I didn't save much money. Or pay off my Old Navy card. Or visit my grandmother at the beach this summer. Or finish editing my novel. Or quit eating gluten. Or follow the chore chart. And I planned to post weekly on this blog, but it's been more like monthly. 

Fall is flipping me off this year, big time! Before I know it, I will have a big turkey defrosting in my fridge while I'm untangling yards of Christmas lights and fighting with my husband over which fuse is out. Then I will procrastinate over making an appointment for our annual family portrait, and once I start receiving mailboxes full of everyone else's creative cards, I'll be frantically scrolling through all of my photos on Facebook from the past year. I'll try to find one that's not too blurry, where we're all smiling and my daughter is standing in front of me so I don't look fat. I'll write a letter about the awesome year we've all had... Hey, everyone! My book didn't get published this year, either, and we couldn't afford that Caribbean Cruise for our anniversary again. And we're still not pregnant..but Katie's got straight-A's again, and look how pretty her red hair is! Then I'll decide not to include it, and just pick the cutest snowman layout I can find at Costco. 

Once Christmas is over, it will be time to wallow in a little more self-pity about everything I didn't do again this year, before making another lofty list of high-intensity expectations for 2014. I don't know why I can't just pull on some cute boots and head to the pumpkin patch, without the dark cloud of guilt following me there. It's so ironic how often I complain about how fast time flies, yet I don't often enjoy the fun moments of my life without hearing that little voice in the back of my mind. The one that tells me that I'm just not doing enough, or that I need to give up on my dreams because I'm not handling the responsibilities as perfectly as I want to. 

I'm so passionate about everything I've taken on, and I truly love it all, but my unrealistic expectations are totally draining the joy out of my life. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother making those chore charts that I never follow...they are really more of a hindrance than a help, and turn activities into moments of dread. Why do I scrub the kitchen floor because it's Wednesday night's duty, instead of just lighting a candle and listening to Etta James while I dance with the mop? Why do I huff and puff on the treadmill for three days in a row before ditching my boring workout again, instead of just doing a spontaneous and fun physical activity, like hiking or joining a friend at the Barre 3 studio? 

I'm working on getting back to the heart of why I'm doing everything that I'm doing, in order to rekindle the passion that's become buried beneath a long to-do list. The passion that will make my life enjoyable rather than hurried. The passion that is free from guilt and obligation, because it springs from desire rather than duty. The passion that breeds true productivity.

Health food isn't always disgusting

I am trying my best to eat healthier now, as a permanent lifestyle change. I used to envision whole foods as rabbit feed (cold, raw, and unsatisfying), until I started using The Whole Life Nutrition Cookbook. What an amazing resource, especially for vegans and people with common food allergies! 

Packed with a broad variety of flavorful and satisfying recipes, it's literally impossible to get bored or hungry on this book. It does takes time to shop for and prepare the meals, but it's so worth it because you're not going to be tempted to cheat on your body with other crap (as long as you're stocked up to feed the hunger pangs). I served this quinoa salad with a grilled tilapia filet, and it was all kinds of yum!

Time Pirates are hi-jacking my life

Hello, I'm Liz. Super Liz! Beneath my jacket, I'm wearing skintight, long-sleeved shirt with a giant, colorful L printed on the front, surrounded by flames or lightening bolts, or something else that screams S-U-P-E-R-H-E-R-O. I jump from building to building by day, at 100 miles per hour, and spend my nights swinging from ropes to catch up on all those missions I didn't accomplish during business hours. I can't remember the last time I actually sat down for a couple of hours, to paint my toenails and catch up on Red Widow, but it's all good. My to-do list is always up for grabs, so just feel free to keep scribbling more things at the end of it.

I know it's not enough that I'm sitting in traffic for almost two hours a day during my weekday commute. It's a total blast to stare at the same bumper sticker for almost an hour after a demanding day, while driving 5-10 MPH and listening another book on CD that I don't have time to read. I especially love it when my Progressive snapshot device screams at me for suddenly slamming on my brakes after someone whips out in front of me without looking...it's become almost a daily occurrence as of late, and I can't help but envision dollar signs exploding every time I hear it. Oh, well! Sure, I work full-time as well, at an incredibly demanding job, but just keep piling my desk with more paperwork.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm also a wife? One of those wives that actually wants to spend quality time with her husband every so often? I'm married to a small business owner that works twice the hours that I do, and it's hard enough to squeeze in a date night every once in a while anyway. But, don't worry... count me in for one more event to log on my calendar. It doesn't matter that I have a 13-year-old stepdaughter that I devote my weekends to, right? I barely see her during the week, and she's growing up way too fast, but I know that I should feel completely guilty about wanting to spend my Friday nights hearing all about her week while we cook dinner together. How selfish of me!

Forgive me for not immediately stepping up to volunteer at your charity event this weekend. Have no fear, I will just change my RSVP to that wedding we're attending! I'm sure Cousin Chloe will understand that I had more important things to do than witness the most special day of her life. It's my turn to help out on that committee, you say? Ok, no worries! I'll let Great Grandma Gretchen know that it's a more pressing need for us than attending her 90th birthday party. Maybe next time, Grams! We've ran our kid around town all through summer vacation to practice soccer and attend tons of tournaments, but a short-notice, Saturday morning scrimmage sounds like Heaven to us. Forget sleeping in...sign us up! We don't mind at all...

I've told you (on numerous occasions) that I'm an active member of a small church, but I guess I'll just keep putting my efforts there on the back burner, since throwing that Tupperware party I committed to back in March is sooo much more important than the orphans we're raising support for in Uganda. Selling plastic gadgets that are likely loaded with BPA should always overshadow getting closer to Christ, correct? What, I need to fill out another form?! Make another appointment? Pay another fee? Schedule another meeting? Host another event? Plan another party? 

Why don't you take a good look at my planner and tell me, exactly, how I'm supposed to fit all that in? I'd love to hear your advice about how I'm going to make all your expectations happen, among everything else that is going on in my life. I know that you think that this job, this group, this committee, or this team is the ONLY thing that matters, but you know what? It's not. So, stop jeopardizing all my time by inviting me to a multitude of "mandatory" events, and giving me guilt trips when I finally, openly & honestly, admit that I just can't do it all anymore. Bottom line? Quit being a Time Pirate, y'all!

I love having a teenager

As Katie's 13th birthday approached, I heard so many warnings about how challenging it is to raise a teenager that I (jokingly) suggested browsing some pamphlets for boarding schools. "She will start to rebel," some people said... "She might be a good kid now, but just wait until the teen years strike," others remarked... My personal favorite? "Enjoy every minute you spend with her before she wants nothing to do with you anymore."

Ok, am I the only one that's seriously annoyed by all the stereotypes that teenagers deal with? They existed when I was her age, and they're still around now, and I don't think they're a good thing. At all. How can we honestly expect any teenagers to behave, when we're watching them all like hawks? Is there a good reason that we constantly worry about them turning into a bunch of Incredible Hulk-like creatures, with a dozen piercings & gauges, at the blink of an eye?

I personally feel that a bee is a good analogy for a teenager. Today's parents are so afraid of getting stung by them that they frantically hop around, screaming in terror, and therefore rile their little wasp up so much that it ends up stinging them out of sheer annoyance of such fearful behavior. I've personally noticed that some of the parents that worry the most about misbehavior end up having the most trouble with their teens.

I do admit that, so far, I've probably rolled my eyes at my stepdaughter more than she has at me (yet another stereotype for youth). I did it the time we planned a family miniature golf tournament that she suddenly decided was "lame," slowly dragging her flip flops around the turf and intentionally trying to set a new world record for how many putts it takes to get the ball over the little fake bridge. I do it every time she refuses to take a family picture, just because she has a zit (the photo below is a rare exception these days). I do it every time I lecture her about cleaning her room, only to glance in my rearview mirror and see that she's wearing headphones. I also do it when I catch her texting beneath the dinner table.

Despite her bright red hair color and multitude of band T-shirts from Hot Topic, my teenaged daughter is no rebel. She constantly surprises me with her thoughtfulness-- doing all of the laundry in our household without being asked, spending hours bathing and trimming our miniature schnauzer so that we don't have to pay a groomer, and giving advice to friends that makes my heart burst with pride (which I only learn of when I'm snooping through her Facebook chat streams, of course). Her grades are excellent, and she works so hard at soccer and flute. I know it's still early, but so far, I like thirteen.

I know that there are some parents that do struggle with challenging teenagers, and work really hard to help them, and my heart goes out to them. I just wish that the world would realize that not all teenagers are troublesome.

Vacations are not really restful

One of my all-time favorite movies is Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation (1962), starring Jimmy Stewart. It's about a burned-out banker who is ready for nothing more than a relaxing and pleasant trip to the seashore with his family. Of course, that's usually too much to ask for, isn't it? After jumping hurdle after hurdle, they finally get a late start on the road to the beautiful beach house they're envisioning, only to find that it's actually a dilapitated dump with poor plumbing and noisy neighbors. It's all downhill from there, and the trip turns into a total disaster. That's definitely the complete opposite of what Mr. Hobbs envisioned during all those months he spent planning the trip.

Well, Mr. Hobbs, I can relate! The past year of my life has been so crazy that, at times, I have honestly found myself looking forward to Mondays instead of Fridays. You heard me correctly--my weekends have actually been busier than my workdays! Saturdays and Sundays have been packed with soccer tournaments and church events and social gatherings and family celebrations that are a lot like this run-on sentence and never seem to slow down. I gave up on using my weekends to get caught up on all that stuff I don't have time for during the week a long time ago. Now, I absolutely must squeeze every last little task in between the happenings of my regular routine, or they will not ever get done. Stressful much? You bet!

My schedule seems like a good recipe for a heart attack sometimes. Just a few short weeks into summer busyness, I was already running out of breath. So, naturally, I insisted that our family take a little vacation of our own this summer. Due to the demands of my husband's small business, it would only be an extended weekend sort of thing, but even that would be better than nothing. We decided on 4th of July weekend, and chose to spend it at my little sister's house in the Boise, Idaho area. As we worked out the details, I envisioned a relaxing rendezvous with friends and family and fireworks, just as Mr. Hobbs had done. So do you think that everything went according to plan? Absolutely not!


The night before we were supposed to leave, we were up way too late packing. This is not only due to the fact that we didn't have time to pre-pack earlier that week, but also because Jeff confessed (at the last minute) that he was worried about losing business on Friday. He never said it meant that he didn't want to go, but I took it that way. This, of course. led to a fight that slowed our packing progress even more, and was also a very sour note to begin our trip with. The next morning, we dragged our sleep-deprived butts out of bed and got a late start on the road. We stopped for an hour to have a delicious breakfast with a dear friend in beautiful Hood River, and things were looking up for a while...until my food poisoning kicked in, and we were forced to stop on several occasions.

We barely made it to the barbecue we planned with my college friends, and didn't even have time to freshen up first. It's been years since I've seen them, so not even my puffy eyes, messy "road hair," and still-queasy-tummy could stop me. After the barbecue, we rushed back to my sister's house, hoping for a good nap before the fireworks. That didn't happen! After we brought our luggage in and set up camp, we realized that if we didn't get to one of the fireworks stands ASAP, they would be sold out. So we returned with our share of fireworks just in time for dinner, and after dinner, it was already dark and the sky was booming and crackling with color.

The next day was a little better. We got to sleep in some before I attended my sister's ultrasound appointment with her, and then enjoyed a lovely lunch out together. I originally envisioned us spending a full day at the water park, splashing around in the sunshine, but that didn't happen, either... We only ended up there for a half day, and the sun started to set half-way through that time, which made the water slides a little chilly for us. But as my family and I lay shivering on our inner tubes, holding hands as we floated around the never-ending river, I still savored the sunset as I reflected on our journey. 

I may not have looked my most attractive at Barbecue #1, but at least I got to see my friends. We didn't have the coolest fireworks on the block after the stand was almost cleaned out, but we still got to make some good memories with family. Our visit to the water park may have been shorter than intended, but we still experienced a few good thrill rides together. And we shared that special family moment in the pool, which I knew we would never forget. It goes to show that, while things will never go according to plan, time still moves way too fast for us to waste it worrying about what should have happened, or what shouldn't have gone wrong. The truth is, the best memories usually aren't made during something that was planned. They usually appear after those moments that turned out wrong, when you finally chose to embrace them and find the beauty in those mishaps.

I want to be a fruit ninja

Up until just a few weeks ago, I had never even heard of the fruit ninja game before. But of course, I'm one of those nerds that doesn't have cable and has zero interest in video games (aside from a little Tetris here and there). Then, suddenly, the kids I nanny (I will call them B & A on here) were so excited that their Saba (Jewish grandfather) was coming for a visit! Saba comes to visit them every couple of months or so, and he stays for at least a week, sometimes longer.

I also happen to love it when Saba visits. Not only is he a huge help with the three kids that I normally care for all on my own for hours each weeknight (in the midst of homework and extracurriculars and dinner and viola practice), but we all love the stories that he tells us. Saba has a million stories (many of which are probably exaggerated but are still hilarious), which he tells us in such an animated fashion through his thick Hebrew accent, usually while peeling fruit for the kids. It's precious!

And there's another perk to Saba's visits. It is the only time that the kids are allowed to play games on the iPad...and these are kids that are not allowed to watch any television at all. I know that I don't sound like supernanny right now, but anything that will keep an energetic 6-year-old boy and precocious 4-year-old girl occupied for any amount of time is absolute heaven every once in a while. So, this past week, B and A have spent more time than they should playing Fruit Ninja while Saba is off with the baby, and I have felt a little guilty about getting paid big bucks to relax with a cup of decaf and some rare silence. The kids have even invited me to try my hand at slicing those coconuts and bananas with fast finger swipes. I've found that I'm actually quite talented at this new game, thank you very much.

The theme of our church service today was based on this popular game that I've recently discovered, and how it's important to fuel our minds and bodies and spirits in order to be properly nourished to take on the tasks that we're called to do. They even served some fruit and veggie kabobs after the service (an adorable and tasty idea!). During the service, we watched a video about a man that was suddenly struck with a furious passion to run the Boston Marathon. This is someone who weighed over 300 pounds and was never able to lose any weight until he committed to this dream. Not only did he end up accomplishing his goal, but he also lost over 100 pounds in the process!

Wow! I really needed to hear that tonight. I have an addiction that I've been trying to shake for a few years now: the need to cook delicious (and expensive) gourmet meals every single night. I love to cook, I'm pretty good at it, and I love to eat yummy food even more. This expensive consumption has been the biggest hurdle for me...not only for weight loss, but also in keeping our budget under control. I've failed miserably and have constantly beat myself up time and time again during this ongoing cycle I've been on these past few years.

Tonight, something amazing happened, and it occurred right after our Fruit Ninja sermon. I've stressed out about how I'm going to afford the mission trip to Uganda I'm taking in just seven months. It's something I JUST HAVE TO DO. I want to see the impoverished school in Ntandi that our church supports...in person...and to hold those orphans in my arms! Right now, nothing gives me greater pleasure than my daydreams about walking those dirt floors with barefoot children that have gigantic smiles a million watts brighter than most American kids who lack nothing (like B and A). And I realized that this dream is my own personal Boston Marathon.

Will I stop spending too much money on food so that I can lose weight and save money? Nope. However sad it is, that hasn't been enough to motivate me. I really don't care how I look in a bikini because I'm not planning to enter a beauty pageant, and my husband is still attracted to me even though I gained weight. Will I do so in order to afford a trip to Uganda so that I can spend time with genuinely hungry, malnourished orphans, and be a part of a team that brainstorms more ways to help them have the ability to eat every day? Absolutely! Nothing can possibly stand in the way of that dream. It's going to fuel the sword that slashes through our food budget just like the ones on Fruit Ninja!