Thursday, March 22, 2018

traveling as a 29+1

I made my way to The Windy City this morning, and have much work to do so this should be short. This is my third time traveling alone in 29.95 years. All three times have been for this same work conference. Talk about taking a job that challenges you. Putting me in an airport without a chaperone - I may never find my way to the bathroom, let alone my destination. Challenge enough. Common sense leaves me...I anxiously panic at the crowds, signs, thought of gate changes. It’s like I all of a sudden can’t read or speak English. Really. As I sit here, eating microwaved frozen chicken fingers passed off as Chili’s chicken crispers, I realize that there are things I now appreciate the closer I approach 29+1 that I could never appreciate before.

1. Taking my time. Whaaaat? First time flying alone, I was in such a rush to make it look like I knew exactly what I was doing. It made my airport anxiety worse, made airport security angry, and probably delayed a lot of helpful samaritans cleaning up my mess of misdirection. It got me lost. It actually caused me to almost miss a connecting flight if it hadn’t been delayed on its own, and caused a kind lady on my first flight to miss her connecting flight waiting on me.

2. Signs are there to READ. Why did I think they were there? As if taking the time to read them was “uncool” or something. Pick me last for dodgeball then, because I’m reading them three times today.

3. Eating alone. Oh the quiet in the middle of this loud airport restaurant. It’s glorious. And I’m blogging...refer to #1. I have no anxiety over the 15 other people in line who would love my seat. I’m Driving Miss Daisy-ing this lunch for One. This hour is MINE.

4. Hospitality really is a southern thing. Cherish its specialness and the accent. It makes us southern gals unique. I’ve been thanked countless times in the past three hours for simple acts of what I just consider respect. That doesn’t exist everywhere. And I don’t consider myself an overly friendly person.

5. Engaging strangers doesn’t mean you will get murdered, every time. Of course, use your better judgement when befriending a stranger, but it’s okay to delight in some casual conversation...especially when you eat alone. I hate engaging in small talk. I literally cringe at the thought of having nothing to say. Awkward silence is one of my biggest panic attack triggers. Use caution, but it’s okay to sacrifice your comfort for some friendly conversation. Also, you never know where the power of networking can take you. As long as you’re smart and know how to throat punch your way out of a bad situation.

6. A good book > social media. No explanation is necessary. I just lost myself for a two hour plane ride...and it was incredible.

7. There are still good people. Similar to #5. I assume the worst, at all times. I assume the man next to me is the leader of a sex traffic ring, that the waitress hates me, that everyone’s judging my outfit. News flash AK, no one cares. Those are self-consumed thoughts. Some people really just like small talk and are just nice people. Also, home slice gave me some gum when my ears were popping. Hopefully it wasn’t threaded with anthrax. See? I have a problem.

I’m sure I will learn more this weekend as Nick and I take on this incredible, ABSURDLY cold city. I’m excited for this conference, the things I will learn, the relationships I will develop/strengthen, and the sites my hubs and I will see as we take a few days for ourselves. Life as a 29+1 may not be as dreadful as I imagine. I am already finding that I like this me better than who I was coming into my 19+1s. Oh here comes my bill for these frozen Walmart fingers. Until later.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

the whole world...and candy

For anyone who has ever had a conversation with my toddler, even if only for a brief minute, knows of her love for the song "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands." She doesn't just love it, she's obsesssed with it. Beyond obsessed with it. I love(d) this song, but if I'm being totally honest, the mention of it now makes me cringe. I am just not one of those "play songs on repeat" kinda people. 

To be fair, I set her up for it. I used to sing her to sleep with this song during the super little season. Before she could talk, or soothe herself back to sleep, she needed my singing, and I needed to not sing the same words for two hours. Therefore, I started using this song as a means of praying for all of the people we love and care about. I love multitasking. I would fill in "the whole word" lyric with people's names - i.e. "He's got Lolly and Pop, in his hands..." Usually by the time we got through all of our family, extended family, friends, loved ones in Heaven, and community group members, she'd be out.

Now, as she's about to turn two [what?!], she has an extremely high vocabulary and an extremely big heart for...everything. Nick and I get asked multiple times a day "Whole world, Mommy? Whole world, Daddy?" When we start to sing, she calls the shots on who we're filling into the blanks. It's always fun to see who she thinks about. Most of the time it's her Lolly and Pop, Yaya and BobBob, her aunts, uncles...Mia and Stella... Sometimes we get "hairbrush," "jacket," "cow," "bird," "flower"...I mean... she's not technically wrong (Matthew 6:26, Luke 12:28) Lately, I've been trying to bring the lyrics to the song a little more full circle...asking her who has the whole world and all of these people in His hands. She can now answer that 'Jesus' has everyone in His hands. I continue with 'And where does Jesus live?' -- 'With Cookie Monster.' Noted.

Hold that thought. 

We've been weening off of the paci for about two weeks now. Daycare, because they're 'extra' [if I'm even using that word right], has weened her off completely during naptime. However, we've also always let her have it in the car, and at night, selfishly for our sanity. Car rides are miserable without our Papi. Like, as loud as I can turn up the music without causing damage to our ears doesn't drown out the trantrums [I'm guessing... :)] So we're working on it. Anyway, long story short, we've been managing. She's done well, but when she's about to lose it, she has a list of demands to focus her attention elsewhere... snacks, books, blanket, snacks, phone [what?!], "sing Whole World", pictures, sing "Jesus" [aka Jesus loves me], snacks, snacks, snacks... you get the idea. We usually, if possible, give her what she asks for, because we know the No-Papi-Tantrum (NPT) is close. Choosing battles. 

Yesterday was no exception. No papi on the ride home, but tons of requests. The whining started...and for any fellow mamas reading this, can I get an amen for how weary even a 2-minute car-tantrum can make you? There are no words, but it has, on a number of occassions, brought me to my knees in tears of frustration and defeat. So after raisins didn't satisfy, Brown Bear Brown Bear got boring, the "phone" [which is a Fisher Price remote control] got chunked toward the window, the Larabar didn't taste good, she requested "CAAAANNYYY." Aka - Candy. Buh. We rarely give this child candy, but that one time at the doctor after handling shots well changed her life forever. I get it, chocolate changed my life and it probably only took one taste for me to decide I needed it to soothe my rough days, too.

I gently told Reaves that we didn't have any candy [even if I did, her having it in the car terrifies me], so I told her if she was really good, she could have a sucker when we got home. I'm sure this goes against everything we learned in the parenting class at church on Establishing Authority. She almost went NPT on me. She argued a bit, repeated her request for candy several more times. I just kept repeating back to her my compromise [WHY am I compromising with a toddler? Battles]. So I'm speeding home, waiting for the NPT that inevitably is about to come, small tears, pitiful...sad tears, not angry tears..and she, of course, asks "Whole World, Mommy?" Because I feel bad that she isn't screaming, but is genuinely sad she doesn't have candy [I'm the sucker, here], I comply and start singing the song. 

I wait for her to tell me who Jesus has in His hands, and with the sweetest, quivering, tearful voice, she said "Reaves' candy." It's comical to me that candy is up on her scale with the whole world. But again, chocolate. I get it. It was a hilarious reminder that Jesus does have all of the cares of our heart in His hands...however little they may seem. So sure, Jesus has your candy in His hands, sweet one. Why not.