January 24, 2012

Things We Fight About

I know I’m always like, “Oh my gosh, my husband is so cute!  Ah!  I love him!”

And it’s true, he is. And I do.

But what I would never want you to think is that our marriage is perfect, or easy.

I’m married to a sweet man who loves me very much and is an amazing father to our son, but we work really hard at loving each other because, I’m telling you, that’s what we have to do.  (If anyone tells you marriage is never hard work, they are lying to you and should be flogged in the public square.  ”Boo!  Boo!  Bow to the Queen of Rubbish! The Queen of Slime!  The Queen of Filth!”)

Anyway, because I’m always writing about how much I love Simon and how wonderful he is, I realize it sometimes sounds like we never argue or fight, and so, just to clear things up, I’d like to present you with the following list of things we’ve argued about. (Those marked with an “R” are recurring arguments we’ve had more than 10 times.)

Enjoy.

 

1. Simon’s used earplugs, which I find in our bed, under our bed, in the bathroom, on my dresser, etc. (R)

2. My tendency to leave dirty dishes on the kitchen counter for days. DAYS.  (R)

3. Simon’s trail of baby powder footprints, which tell me exactly where he walked after his shower the night before. (R)

4. Simon’s Pepsi Max habit. (R)

5. My olive habit. (R)

6. Simon’s Mars Bar habit. (R)

7. My straighteners being left on all day/overnight, or being hung over the radiator. (R)

8. Simon coming home from work at 5:30 instead of 5:20.

9. My growing collection of water glasses beside our bed.

10. Simon’s growing collection of dirty tissues beside our bed.

11. How many seconds Simon should hug me in order for me to feel properly cuddled.

12. How many times times we’ve each cleaned our bathroom. (hint: I don’t know actually know where we keep the bathroom cleaning spray.)

13. Whose turn it is to get up with Adlai at 5:30am. (R)

14. Money.  (Surprisingly, this is not much of a recurring argument, which I attribute to Simon’s amazing budget.)

15. Where we actually keep my mixing bowls/the saucepans/the matches/the broom/various other household items. (R)

 

Of course, we fight about some big stuff occasionally, too, but y’all can’t expect me to tell you everything. I’m bound to start a fight.

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January 22, 2012

What My 20s Taught Me: Being the Best is the Worst

Me, singin' with our friend Phil and my huzbin who, by the way, is the best at loving me.

If you know me in real life, or if you’ve been reading Great Smitten for a while, you may know that in addition to all my other creative pursuits, I’m also a bit of a singer. Not just your average shower-crooning, church-choir singer, but a real-life, sound-checking, Saturday night, sometimes paid, tips appreciated, songwriting, jazz/country/folk/soul singer. There was a brief period after high school when I considered moving to Nashville to pursue a music career.  Sure, that would’ve been cool, but some things just aren’t meant to be. (Other things are.)

When I was about 16, my dad and I were in our living room watching LeeAnn Rimes perform on CMT (That’s Country Music Television, Britons. Don’t judge.  That’s how we rolled in Harnett County.)

“She’s got a great set of pipes,” my dad said. (Yes, he says things like that.)

What I should’ve said, because it would’ve been true, was, “Yeah, she’s a really amazing singer.”

But I didn’t say that.  Because I was 16 and insecure and jealous that anyone was a better singer than me -that my own father had the nerve to say some other girl was a great singer.  Instead, I said something like, “I don’t think she’s that great.”

Oh my gosh, you stupid girl.  Shut up.

—

I’d like to say that was the only time in my life that I withheld a compliment from someone very talented because of my own insecurity, but I’d be lying, and I think we all know that I don’t have much shame anymore.  My life went on like this for a few years. Anything I did – music, acting, writing, baking, whatever – I needed to be the best at.  And because I needed to be the best, I was stingy with compliments when it came to anyone doing the same thing.

I didn’t often go so far as to criticize out loud, but I kept a silent tally of reasons why someone else’s song/monologue/short story/cake wasn’t quite up to scratch.

For a while, I thought it was because I was just so sure I was the best.

But somewhere around my 21st year, I realized it was because I was pretty sure I wasn’t.

Not being the best terrified me.  It paralyzed me.

Until I realized that not being the best was actually one of the best things that had ever happened to me.

Letting go of being the best meant that I started to enjoy all the things I’d had to work so hard at being the best at.  It meant I could sing a sad song with so much more feeling because it didn’t have to be flawless.  It meant I could write more, because every word didn’t have to be perfectly chosen – every comma didn’t have to be perfectly placed.  It meant I could laugh at my mistakes.

And, best of all, it meant I could look around me at all the people making beautiful art and just really, really love them for it.

I started handing out compliments like they were Halloween candy.

To the girl in my acting class who had intimidated me all semester.

To my girlfriend who wrote the kind of poetry I’d only ever failed miserably at.

To LeeAnn Rimes (No, I know she couldn’t hear me).

So I’m not the best writer in the world.  Or the best singer. Or the best actress, or photographer, or baker, or mother, or wife.

But I am so, so good at being me.

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January 18, 2012

We built a fort.

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January 12, 2012

What My 20s Taught Me: I’m So Hot Right Now

I’m going to show you a few photos of myself, and I’d like you to take a guess as to what they have in common.

Ready?

Here we go:

Here I am (second from right) on my high school cross country team in the late 90s.

Me (on the left) working as a camp counselor around 2002. (Check out my friend Ashleigh's muumuu!)

Me (on the left) in my dorm room with my college roommate, Jennie.

On the way to one of Simon's gigs with my friend Veronica before we got married (me and Simon, not me and Veronica).

…

Okie dokie, any thoughts?  Anyone?

Alright, I’ll tell you.

At the time when every single one of these photos was taken, I vividly remember thinking I wasn’t pretty.

Throughout my teens and early 20s, I was convinced I was too tall, too fat, had too many stretch marks, bad skin, too much cellulite.

I don’t know if it’s because I married a man who loves all the bits of me that I’ve always hated; or because I’ve shared a lot of dorm rooms and hotel suites and houses with a lot of girls, and I know we’re all different and have our own insecurities; or because I watched my body work with strength and grace to house a baby for nine months, and deliver him safely into the world, but I love my body now.

Don’t get me wrong.  I still have my insecure days.  Sometimes I look in the mirror and wish things were different.  My body has changed a lot in the past ten years, and pregnancy didn’t do it any huge favours.  I’m not going to lie – I’d love to have the body I had when I was 20.

But in ten years, I don’t want to look at photos of myself from the year I turned 30 and wish I’d appreciated that body more.  I don’t want to long for it, and chide my 30-year-old self for not seeing the beauty right in front of her. I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes over and over again for the rest of my life.

Isn’t one of the best parts of getting older getting wiser?

So wise up, ladies.

We are so hot right now.

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January 10, 2012

I’m Obsessed With ___.

In addition to working with the homeless, my cute husband is also a sound engineer.  In fact, that’s what he studied in college, and what he did as a job for years.

He still does some recording and some live sound and, in fact, he’s recording our friend Zoe Joy in our front room as. we. speak. Zoe Joy works with Simon, but she’s also probably going to be a famous worship leader and/or songwriter at some point, so I just want to drop her name here, so when that day comes, I can be like, “Oh yeah, no biggie, she just drank orange squash in my front room while my husband recorded her first album.  Whatevs.”

So anyway, I’ve been snapping some photos of ZJ (that’s what we call her, you know, cause we’re so tight) that I’m hoping to squeeze into her album cover, but now I’ve been banished to the kitchen while she records a vocal track.  So here I am, drinking a glass of pinot grigio and just about to tell you about some MORE things I got for Christmas that I totally love.  I’m not bragging.  I’m just really, really excited about this stuff.

This CD.  

I completely forgot to tell you about this last week, and I really can’t believe it, because I just love it so much.  Remember when I told you about this John Lewis commercial, and this one?  This is an album of songs from all the John Lewis commercials.  They’re all sensitively done covers, and I’m just so in love with this CD.  Simon bought it for me.  Because he knows me so well.  The first time I listened to it, I sat in our big red armchair and cried.  It’s that good.

My favourites are Ellie Goulding’s cover of Elton John’s “Your Song”, and Fyfe Dangerfield’s cover of Billy Joel’s “She Always a Woman” and…

Oh, who am I kidding?  I love all of them.

This so-sweet headband HANDMADE by my friend Emily and mailed to me from the Windy City.  Emily also made Adlai’s superhero cape.

My friends are ridiculous.

And speaking of that…

My gorgeous friend Sarah (who you know from here, and here, and here) sent me this lovely charm made from a vintage typewriter key…

…which I immediately threaded onto a silver chain and vowed to wear at all times.

Except for when I’m hanging it on my Christmas tree for a photo shoot.

I LOVE IT.

…

When I look at these things, not only do I see things I love, I see people who love me.  How blessed am I to have people like Simon, and Emily, and Sarah, who lavish me with gifts they’ve lovingly chosen (or made!)?

Friends and family like this just make life so, so rich.

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January 5, 2012

What My 20s Taught Me: Everyone is Faking It

Here's me, faking like I'm a middle-aged British woman.

When I worked as a magazine editor, I had a great friendship with our publisher.  Her name was (and still is, actually) Brenda. She was in her mid-40s and one of those women who just oozes confidence.  She had a wicked sense of humor, a commanding presence, and a really, really nice shoe collection.  She’d done very well for herself –  an editor by 26 (like me), a decades-long career in journalism, with a knowledge of the industry that made me want to sit at her feet and soak up everything she knew.  She was one of those people who knows how to get what she wants by treating people well, but also has an ever-so-slightly intimidating edge – just the right amount to keep people from messing with her.

Anyway, I was sitting in Brenda’s office one day, having a discussion about an upcoming issue of the magazine, and we got onto the subject of fear.

“My greatest fear,” said Brenda, “is that one day, everyone will realize I have no idea what I’m doing.  They’ll all figure out that I’m just an impostor.”

I was floored.

“You too?” I asked.

When I started out in my editor role, I was so easily intimidated.  I just knew that everyone I talked to – designers, advertisers, sponsors, interviewees…everyone – knew exactly what they were doing.  And they knew that I didn’t.  I was sure they could smell my fear from twenty paces and, at any minute, any one of them could out me.

Impostor!  Liar!  Fake!

When Brenda – a seasoned journalist and experienced businesswoman twenty years my senior – told me she had the exact same fear, I realized something that changed my life:

Everyone is Faking It.

The restaurant owners who played hardball as we negotiated the terms of our sponsored cocktail hours.  The people at the national magazine office who called up to have a go at me for not running a page they thought I should run.  The photographers who wanted their photos published.  Brenda.

All big fakers.

And that’s how I learned not to be such a scaredy cat.  If 50% of being good at your job is knowing what the heck you’re doing, then the other 50% of being good at your job is convincing other people you know what you’re doing.  I suddenly realized that all these big fakers were more concerned with making sure they were faking it well than they were with trying to figure out if I was faking it or not (And I was.  A bit.).

Sure, I knew what I was doing.  I’ve got a Master’s degree in Journalism, for heaven’s sake.  I’ve got seven years of experience in the industry.  I’ve interviewed world-renowned musicians, covered murder cases, and edited a magazine with a readership upwards of 75,000. (Am I convincing you yet?  I’m a bit rusty at this whole faking thing.)

Brenda knows what she’s doing, too.  Trust me.  She really, really does.  Because, despite her worst fears, you can’t fake it to that many people for that long and get away with it.

The thing is, although we think what we’re faking is our qualifications, our knowledge, what we’re really faking is our belief in ourselves.

Once I learned that everyone – even the Mighty Brenda – was faking it, I suddenly didn’t have to try so hard to fake it myself.  Those meetings with the tough-as-nails restaurateurs became a piece of cake, because I was pretty sure they were preparing for them the exact same way I was – by sitting in their cars beforehand (or in their kitchens, whatever), gathering their thoughts and their notes, and reminding themselves that they did know what the heck they were doing; they did pass all their classes in culinary school; they did make a mean yang chow pork and shrimp fried rice(or write a mean lede).

Now it may seem like what I’m telling you is that you can fake it because everyone else is.  But, as it turns out, that’s not it at all.

You see, when I figured out everyone was faking it, it suddenly hit me that I didn’t have to.

My false confidence slowly started to turn into real confidence.  I didn’t have to be afraid anymore.  I didn’t have to walk around thinking everyone had it figured out except me.  They didn’t.

The best part about realizing everyone is faking it, is that you get to stop faking it yourself.  You get to be totally, authentically, comfortably confident in what you know and who you are.

For real.

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January 4, 2012

I’m Bringing 30 Back

There are just nine weeks left until my 30th birthday.  I think.  I’ve never been very good at counting.  In fact, it’s very possible I’m only 28.

In the run-up to the Big 3-0, and inspired by this girl, I’ve decided to write once a week on a lesson my 20s taught me.  And there are a lot of them.

Come back tomorrow for the first of these unmissable, life-changing lessons, and please, for heaven’s sake, learn from my 20s, so that I will not have humiliated myself and made a thousand stupid mistakes in vain.

See you then!

Oh, also, if you haven’t answered my poll, go ahead and do that.

And like Great Smitten on facebook.

K?  That is all.

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January 3, 2012

Where you be?

Would you mind doing me a(nother) wee favor?  I’m doing some planning (Me?  Planning?  I know, right.) for the coming year, and I wondered if you could just take a sec to let me know where you live.  I’m not going to come to your house or anything – unless you invite me, and bake me cookies and make me nice coffee – I just want to get a better idea of who’s reading this here little blog so that I can plan content that you like.  (And also so I can let interested advertisers know who they’re advertising to.  Advertisers!  I know, right.)

I very much appreciate it.  Thank you!  You’re the best.

Oh, also, did you see I got a facebook like button over to the right?  Thank you, wordpress, for finally making this possible.  (It’s about dang time, really.  It’s 2012.)  Anyhoo, if you like Great Smitten, well then, please like it.  Cause I like you.  Mwah.

 

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January 2, 2012

I’m Obsessed With ___.

I’m just coming up for air after a ridiculous Christmas season and a month of sickness in our house.  From broken ankles (I have a real problem descending stairs gracefully), to chest infections, to stomach viruses, we’ve really run the gamut of illnesses.

Christmas Day saw Adlai the sickest he’s been in his thirteen months.  It was heartbreaking as his mama to see him so drowsy and unable to keep any food down, and I hated every minute of it.

That said, Simon made a turkey that would’ve made my grandma cry, and brussels sprouts that made me like brussels sprouts, so all was not lost.  Also, we got some awesome Christmas presents, and this post is all about that!

Here’s to a happy and VERY healthy 2012!

This sweet canvas my brother-in-law made me for Christmas.  He’s making one for Simon, too, so we can hang them side-by-side in our room.

*Love*

This Super Adlai cape my friend Emily made.  Simon has a matching one, but I haven’t managed to snap a photo of him in it yet.  Look at this though!  So cute.  And those chubby legs ain’t too bad either.

This perfume Simon bought me.  It smells like roses, but better.  I’ve wanted it since 2007. (I have a never-buy-anything-for-myself problem.)

Harry Potter.

I bought Simon the box set of the films, and the past week has been completely consumed with watching them.  Last night we finally watched the final one – the only one we hadn’t seen yet – and now my life feels empty and lacking in direction.  What am I supposed to do with myself?

…

Kidding.

I know exactly what to do with myself.  And it includes laundry and dishes and making nice meals for my boys.

And maybe reading The Hunger Games trilogy.

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December 31, 2011

Sarah’s Holiday Crafts, Part II: Prayer Cards

Today’s craft from my friend Sarah is a great little something to work on as you think about ringing in the New Year and getting 2012 started off right.  I was just talking to Simon the other day about wanting to invest more in my prayer life and spend good quality time talking to God, so this project gives me some great inspiration.  Also, for someone like me who needs a bit of help with organization and time management, and who gets distracted very easily, even while praying (“Dear God, Please watch over my…wait…did I turn off my straighteners?…Anyway, yes, watch over my family and…my family.  I miss my Mom.  I should call her later…”) this is a big help. 

Enjoy it, and please send me photos of your finished projects!

 

Hi again, Great Smitten readers!  Last week, I wrote about my sister and her gift of generosity. Karla and I would agree that her generous and kind heart had a great deal to do with my mother.

My mom, holding my little boy minutes after he was born

I call her my steel magnolia because she has the most joyful soul and tough-as-nails heart of anyone I know. She is also a prayer warrior. So much so that my friends call me just to ask me if she will pray for them. She takes prayer seriously. And she does it with faith and determination.

One of my favorite childhood memories is waking up around 5 or 6 am when it was still dark outside and sleepily walking into the kitchen to get a drink of water. So many mornings I would glance into the living room and see my mother kneeling at the foot of our couch, her heart wrapped up in a desperate prayer.

I never knew exactly what she was praying for on those quiet mornings, and I usually padded back to my bedroom without interrupting her, but what I did know is that my mother had a heart for taking things to the Lord and that when someone asked her to pray for them she did.

I want to be like that. I try to be like that. But I am not there yet. While I am still figuring out how best to juggle the roles in my life now that I’m a mother, one of my biggest goals is to be more accountable with my prayers. No matter how God has gifted you, everyone is called be to faithful prayer.

Because I love visuals, I made a set of daily prayer cards. I ripped out a few pages from a beautiful journal (another Lotta Jansdotter find at the consignment sale!). Then I laminated the sheets to make them durable and wipeable since I’d be using them in the kitchen.

(By the way, laminating things is one of my small pleasures in life. I bought my own personal laminator from Target to use in my classroom when I taught elementary school. For twenty dollars you can experience this amazingly satisfying experience for yourself!!)

Before writing, I sat down and wrote a list of the people I wanted to pray for regularly. I divided them up into groups and assigned them a day. This doesn’t mean that I only pray for these people on this assigned day. In fact, I pray for people all of the time when I happen to think of them. But it does ensure that they are prayed for, earnestly and faithfully, every week.

I wrote my prayer list with a Sharpie marker. This way, it’s durable but I can wipe it clean with nail polish remover if I want to change or update it.

 

Here’s what I wrote on each card:

Give Thanks!

I always want to start my day with a prayer of thankfulness first.

Pray for Steve/Sarah

My husband is using these cards too and praying for each other is essential for our marriage.

Pray for Wyatt

More on this later!

Pray for ____ 

This varies from day to day. I want to make sure to give a good bit of time to praying for our family, friends and others.

For example, on Monday I pray for our immediate and extended family as well as our sponsor child, Rosemary.

On Tuesdays I pray for our dinner party group (yup, that includes my dear friend, Faith!).

On Saturdays I pray for our neighborhood community, our local leaders and our government.

 

It’s such a simple thing but these little cards have transformed my prayer life. I keep them behind my kitchen sink, leaning up against the window and I look at them throughout the day. It’s been a small but strong step toward becoming a prayer warrior like my mother, for praying for people when I say that I will, and most importantly for strengthening my faith and dependence on my Heavenly Father.

 

*About praying for my son:

I made a separate card for specific prayers for my son. I’ve known several people who have prayed daily prayers for their children and I wanted to do the same. We wrote prayers that cover all aspects of his life.

If you have a hard time reading from the picture, here are the prayers we say with and for Wyatt each day.

We pray that Wyatt would:

Sunday: believe in Jesus and hold Him in his heart, becoming a strong man of God.

Monday: honor and respect his parents, obeying them and learning from them.

Tuesday: show God’s love to others through his actions, loving them as does Christ.

Wednesday: have a strong, wise and creative mind and a love for learning.

Thursday: have a healthy body, and joyful soul and a love for life.

Friday: one day find a wife who loves the Lord with all her heart and loves Wyatt unconditionally.

Saturday: have parents who love each other, are committed to each other and make a home that is safe and full of laughter.

It was so fun to pop over to Faith’s lovely blog again! Sisters and mothers (or women that have taken on those roles in your life) inspire us emotionally and creatively.  Pay it forward with a gift or a prayer!

Love,

Sarah

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