More Than Defined: Using the "F" Word

During freshman orientation, they warned us to keep everything. The university wasn’t trying to create a generation of packrats; they just wanted us to be prepared for that inevitable last assignment: a senior portfolio.

Four years later, as I waded through stacks of papers and essays, I picked out my favorite pieces of writing and research. As I began to list and describe them, I noticed a theme.

Children’s Literature & Gender (PSYC 332: Child Development)
Gender Communication (COMM 458: Rhetoric of Women’s Rights)
Women and Authority (ENG 314: Composition II)

It seems I’m a bit of a feminist.

Shhh. Don’t tell my conservative friends. Because, honestly, things haven’t changed. I believe all men and women were created equal. Different, yes. But equal.

Do I think that women and men are wired differently and often gifted differently? Sure. No, not “sure.” Absolutely.

But do I think some women have skills and gifts typically attributed to men? Yep. (And vice versa. I happen to know some truly compassionate, sensitive men, as well as men who are crafty and creative and better cooks than me.)

Fine. This is all well and good. (To me. Maybe not to you. I know.) But what does it mean, really? I mean, "feminist" is definitely a hot-button word, but in reality, it has different meanings for different people.

So, what am I saying here?

Am I saying that a woman could be president or – here’s the real kicker – a pastor? Yes, I am. I’m not saying that I would ever vote for a female political candidate just because she’s a woman. But if a woman is qualified and believes in (and votes for) the same things I do, then yes, I will support her.

And as someone with the spiritual gifts of teaching and leadership, I get all riled up every time the “women as leaders in the church” issue comes up. I’ve never belonged to a church with a woman pastor (we’ve been members of a Baptist church for 7 years, so you know that’s out of the question), but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I might even like it.

Uh-huh. I said it.

Next question: Am I saying that women should make as much money as men? Yes. When they’re in the same position and doing the same work with the same level of proficiency, women should absolutely earn as much as men.

I also think there are many reasons why women, statistically speaking, don’t earn as much as men, including our education system, our society’s value for various industries, and most importantly, life balance choices.

Oooh, life balance. You know what comes next, right?

Am I saying that women should work outside the home if they want to, even if they have young kids at home? Yep. I sure am. I do (work outside the home). And I think it’s a fine decision. However, I think that women should stay home or work from home, if that’s what they want.

Basically, I think each woman should be allowed to choose what’s best for her and her family. Without judgment.

I think that covers the main issues involved in making a bold statement like, “I think I might be kind of a feminist. Sort of.”

For those of you concerned, I have never burned a bra, I shave my legs when they’ll be seen in public, I know how to cook, clean and sew on a button, and I’ll teach my children to do those things as well.

But I’m still sporting a pretty big girl power badge. And I’m okay with that.

As I mentioned last week, I’ve been afraid to be honest about this topic, even though this was one of the first things that popped into my head when I developed the More Than Defined series.

So, as you comment or even just reflect on what I’ve written here, please be kind. I’d love to answer any questions you have or discuss this topic with you. As long as we can all speak with respect, I think we’ll be just fine.

Here goes: Are you a feminist? Or do you consider that an "f" word?

Don’t forget to read my other More Than Defined posts, too. Though I’d planned to continue this series throughout the summer, I’ve changed my mind. (Another woman’s right, right?) Next week will be the last installment of this series, and I’ll include a link-up for anyone who wants to share a little bit of how – or why – they’re defined.

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Discounts, announcements and a devotional

What is this? Two blog posts in one day?

I know. It comes courtesy of some bad Chinese food and a sick day. But it also comes because I had a few announcements to make that kept getting pushed aside for, you know, regular posts.

The devotional
If you missed it, my monthly article was posted at (in)courage yesterday. It’s called “Used to Be,” and if I do say so myself, it’s good stuff. That may be because I collaborated with Holley for this month’s message, but regardless, I hope you read it.

The discounts
Let’s see a show of hands. Who’s going to BlogHer next week? What about Relevant in October?

I was kidding, you know. I can’t see your hands. I would love to know if you’re going, though. Another expensive (though, I’m sure, amazing) trip wasn’t in my budget this year, but I can’t wait to read about my friends’ adventures at these events!

Oh yeah – the discount. As you might recall, I was unaware of the importance of business cards at my first blog conference. No longer a newbie, I am still a procrastinator. And if you’re like me, that might mean you still haven’t crossed “Order business cards” off your to-do list.

That’s where VistaPrint comes in. You can get 250 FREE business cards at VistaPrint. All you pay for is shipping. [And, of course, if you need them by next week, that will cost you more than if you need them in two months.]

Here’s how it works: Visit VistaPrint, choose a design (they have several super cute ones), select the free options of matte paper and a black/white back side, fill out your contact info, select your shipping option – and bam! You can cross that one off your list.

But wait! There’s more!

I know. That’s so annoying, isn’t it? But I really do have another great deal for you that’s relevant to anyone wanting to improve their blogs.

I attended the Savvy Blogging Summit earlier this month, and It. Was. Awesome. The recordings of each Savvy Blogging Summit session are now for sale, and until noon (EST) tomorrow, you can get 50% off the entire package by using the coupon code CHEYENNE.

If you wanted to, but weren’t able to, attend Savvy Blogging – or if you are interested in improving your blog at all, I highly recommend checking out these session recordings. From media kits, photography and SEO to law/accounting, proposal writing and strategic planning, these sessions are packed with great information.

Each session costs $10, or you can get all 12 sessions for $97 (before the 50% discount).

Visit Savvy Blogging to purchase one or all of the session recordings. And just an FYI: if you purchase all, the download time is about 15-30 minutes.

And some announcements
This summer, I’ve been looking at a few of the ways I define or describe myself with my More Than Defined series. Next Friday, August 6, will be the last installment of this series, and I’m inviting you to play along.

For anyone who would like to join me in More Than Defined, I’ll have a link-up next week.

And last, but most exciting to me, you may notice that my site gets a little wonky in the next several days. That’s because I’m movin’ on up to a Wordpress site, and Deanna from Design Chicky is in the process of making the magic happen.

I’d like to think it will be a seamless move, but given the hour I spent trying to just access my domain host account, it may be more difficult than I assume.

So, while we’re at it, do YOU have any announcements to make? Tell us what’s going on in your life?

Affiliate links are used in this post, and the image is by altemark.

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I Coulda Been a . . . Dancer?

Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.
Pablo Picasso

I can still see my 12-year-old self, lying across my friend’s bed, sobbing my heart out. It would be another year before my “boring” family would take a dive into dysfunction, so the news I’d just received was the most devastating blow I could imagine.

After finally signing me up for dance lessons, my parents were pulling me out. Just a few months after putting on a leotard and joining the cool girls in the ballet/jazz/tap combo class that was well above my beginner abilities, my parents realized they could not actually afford to continue my lessons.

I was crushed.

To this day, actually, I’m a little bit sad. Could it just be Dream Deferred Syndrome that makes me believe I could have been a good dancer? Is my hindsight clouded by a rose-colored lens?

Maybe. Whatever the explanation, and whether it’s sad and delusional or not, I truly think that somewhere inside my overweight, out-of-shape, 31-year-old body is a dancer.

Never mind my short legs and large frame. Never mind an aversion to leggings. Never mind my track record as a clutz.

I could be a dancer.

That’s right. I used present tense, my friends. Because I plan to celebrate National Dance Day by performing a dance routine choreographed by Napoleon and Tabitha D’umo.

Don’t get too excited. First of all, Nappytabs didn’t actually create a dance for me alone. They choreographed a routine for National Dance Day and put together a video to teach us newbies. Second of all, I will be performing it alone (or perhaps with Smitty, if I can convince her to join me) and not with a flash mob. Unfortunately.

And last but definitely not least, I will not be performing this in front of anyone! Are you crazy?!

My friend, Sara, has started a series on her blog called YOU:create. She’s encouraging her readers to do one creative thing each week and then link up proof on Thursdays. In the first week, I dusted off my out-of-tune piano and played a little song.

I'm using this dance for my YOU:create entry. I’m not sure how to prove that I’m doing it, though. Maybe I’ll videotape my feet. Because if you think I’m recording myself busting a move or breaking a leg (perhaps literally), you are out of your mind.

I mean, have you noticed the lack of photos of me around here? I saw someone on Twitter say a while back that Facebook is proof that everyone has one good photo of themselves. So true, so true. (My profile pic is almost two years old – and you can’t even really see my face!)

So, help me out. How should I prove that I’m doing this dance?

And if you’d like to join me in celebrating National Dance Day, here’s the tutorial from Tabitha and Napoleon:



Images by Through Your Eyes, vivacious_kate and Pink Sherbet Photography.

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Wordless Wednesday: Making Muffins with Mommy

This post will be linked to Wordless Wednesday at 5 Minutes for Mom.

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Finding my song

I wrote this as a guest post at Bec’s I Heart Blog a few weeks ago, and I thought I’d share it with you, too. (The image is by hiddedevries.)

I remember this one slumber party in high school. I’m not sure what the occasion was, but snacks and movies and giggling were surely involved. At one point in the evening, we were piled in my friend Angie’s room singing along with whatever song came on the radio.

And I grabbed a hairbrush and rocked out.

That might not seem significant to you, but to me, it was memorable. For that brief moment, I was free. I wasn’t embarrassed, I wasn’t self-conscious. I just sang.

From middle school on, I was in every chorus and choir our school had. I sang a few solos, some duets and even a sextet (which, as you can imagine, prompted many rude jokes from the male members of our choir).

Smitty and I loved to argue about who first said it, but regardless, we both believed it: There’s a song about everything. And that means that everything made me think of a song.

But ask me to sing the song that I so cleverly thought of? Um, no thanks!

I wanted to sing. I realized how silly it was. But singing on a stage, with lights and microphone and crowds down below, is one thing. Singing by myself, standing in front of someone, even my closest friends? That was way too intimidating.

College, marriage and my early career years helped me let go of a lot of my reservations. Or, more accurately, made me a little less uptight. But I still had this thing, this hang-up about singing.

Even though I sang in a huge choir, led worship at church and sang solos, too.
There was just something so awkward about impromptu singing, something embarrassing about potential sour notes and forgotten words.

As a matter of fact, a few years ago I was forced (FORCED!) into singing karaoke at a work retreat. I fought it, I protested it; but they made me do it. I thought I was going to die. {Although, for the record, my rendition of “Walks Like an Egyptian” was quite impressive.}

Something happened shortly after that incident, though. I had a baby. A baby who likes music. And so, I sing.

I sing her to sleep. I sing her awake. I sing to her in the bath, and I sing to her as I get her dressed. I sing about her toys and our family and our cats and her hair and her toes.

I sing All. The. Time.

While before, everything made me think of songs that I couldn’t share with anyone, now I blurt out notes and melodies at the drop of a hat.

Sometimes I don’t even realize what I’m doing. Like this past weekend, when I tried to distract my cranky daughter in the car by naming all the things she could see outside her window.

After she decided that the sky was, in fact, blue not red, I could hear it in my head: Blue skies smilin’ at me. Nothin’ but blue skies do I see . . .

The next thing I heard was my husband chuckling. I asked him what was so funny, and he said, “That’s the last thing I ever thought I’d hear: you singing Willie Nelson.”

{Background: I’m not a real big Willie Nelson fan.}

Little did he know, I wasn’t. I was singing Frank Sinatra!

But what was more interesting is that I was singing at all. Not in the shower. Not to the radio. Not within the comfort of a choir or lighted stage. Nope, I was just singing whatever came to mind – without thinking about it, without even realizing it.

I love singing. And now, it seems, I can actually do it whenever I want!

Do you like to sing? Are you embarrassed to sing in front of certain people, or do you let it all hang out no matter who’s around?

This post will be linked to Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.

P.S. According to the Internet, the title I originally wrote for this post (Sing a Song) is also the title of a “well-known song by Earth, Wind & Fire.” Far be it from me to argue with the Internet, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard of it. Have you? [Sing a Song by Earth, Wind & Fire]

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Do the mashed potato (without leftovers)

Potato pic by rick

My mom is a good cook, but there are a few dishes that only my dad can make. Waffles are one. He made them every Sunday morning for as long as I can remember.

And then there’s mashed potatoes. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard my dad whistling as he beats the potatoes, adding a couple tablespoons of butter, a splash of milk and a little bit of salt and pepper. And then, always, tapping the beaters in rhythm on the edge of the bowl: shave and a haircut…two bits!

I love potatoes of all kinds, but I don’t make mashed potatoes often. Neither one of us likes leftover mashed potatoes, and it seems like a lot of work to peel and boil and mash just enough for two of us.

But when I told Mark that I planned to make meatloaf on Sunday night, he asked if I could please make mashed potatoes. What could I say to that?

Luckily for me, he offered to peel the potatoes: my least favorite part of the process. So all I had to do was boil them to a perfect consistency (until a fork can break them apart easily) and mix them up. Here’s what I did:

Mary’s Mashed Potatoes
1-2 lbs. Russet potatoes
2 T butter (or Blue Bonnet Light margarine)
¼ c. milk (skim)
¼ c. sour cream (light)
salt and pepper to taste

Boil potatoes. (As I said.) Drain and add butter. If you have lids for your pots, put a lid on it and let the butter melt. If you don’t (I know. Who doesn’t have lids? Oh yeah. Me.), just stir it around until it melts. Add sour cream, milk, salt and pepper. Beat on low setting with mixer. Personally, I don’t beat all the lumps out, but that’s up to you.

Mark didn’t jump up and down at the addition of sour cream. Even though, as I told him, that’s how they make them in restaurants. Then again, I didn’t exactly time dinner right, and the potatoes weren’t nearly as hot as the meatloaf. So I guess that might have had something to do with it.

Oh well. At least two of us enjoyed them. (And we only threw out a couple spoonfuls of leftovers, thanks to big bites and second helpings.)

What’s your favorite way to eat potatoes?

P.S. “Do the mashed potato” is a lyric from Do You Love Me, featured in that classic movie I may have mentioned before right before the watermelon scene I may have mentioned before.


This post will be linked to Mouthwatering Monday, Tasty Tuesday, Tuesdays at the Table, Tempt My Tummy Tuesday, What's Cooking Wednesday, Friday Food, Foodie Friday and Food on Fridays.

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Weekend Links, 7.24.10

Calling for the Death of Consumption Guilt :: Brass Tack Thinking
As I'm looking at my online habits and work habits and (lack of) time management skills, I'm having a hard time figuring out how to cut back. As I commented, this post is why this blog is still in my reader!

Turning :: Annie Downs at (in)courage
Happy birthday to my friend, Annie! What a beautiful way to describe your journey into your 30s.

Secretly being liberal :: Rachel Held Evans guest post at Stuff Christians Like 
I don't agree with everything in this post, and I'm not technically a liberal. But I really liked this article. Including it in this post is part of my commitment to be more brave. So, as I said when I linked to this on Twitter, don't throw things, okay?

Common Grill in Chelsea :: Starving Auctioneers
I found this blog through my job. After I laughed my head off at these truly funny guys, I was impressed by the way they take the stereotypical topic of social media posts (what they had for lunch) and turn it into something that entertains and develops their professional brands.

7 Reasons Leaders Quit Your Organization :: Ron Edmondson at Catalyst Space
As you may have noticed, I've been thinking about quitting jobs lately. The reasons listed in this article resonated with me - a lot. And it was encouraging to realize that, if someone is writing about this, then I'm not alone in my thinking.

How to Grieve What You’re Missing :: A Holy Experience
Ann writes beautifully about missing her mother-in-law, who's passed away. As I can identify with that situation, this post touched me.

Why Having a Toddler is Like Being at a Frat Party :: Suburban Snapshots
I must have seen a link to this on Twitter, because I hadn't read this blog before. As the mother of a 2 1/2 year old, I loved the comparison in this post! The comments are just as good as the post, by the way, so read them, too!

Hospitality for the Non-Perfectionist :: Balancing Beauty & Bedlam
Perfect. Love it. Oh wait! Not perfect. But I still love it!

The 7 Most Disastrous Typos of All Time :: Cracked.com
I spent a good portion of last weekend totally stressed out about a proofreading project I had to finish by Monday morning. So when I took a break from frantically proofing on Monday (yes, that means I was slightly late), I had to laugh when I saw this article.

This post will be linked to Saturday Stumbles at It's Come 2 This. Check it out for more great reads.

What's the best thing you've read this week?

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More Than Defined: Meow! I’m a Scaredy Cat.

“She turned off the TV!”

My new friend (Nony from A Slob Comes Clean) called me out, right there in the pizza buffet line. I think she may have even pointed her finger.

Of course, I’m joking. She said she just got caught up in the excitement of my tiny little rebellious move. The pizza joint we ate dinner in was noisy, and the over-sized flat-screen above our heads didn’t help matters.

So I turned it off.

I know. I am So. Brave. Right?

Or…not.

I might be nervy. Or, sometimes, too big for my britches. But I’m not really brave. I’m really a big scaredy cat.

I mentioned to a co-worker that someone I’d met intimidated me. She said, “What? I can’t believe you would be intimidated by anyone!”

Apparently, I’ve got people snowed. Because while I might put on a brave face and talk tough and stand tall, well, the truth is I’m scared of everything.

{You know, just like Baby: "Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you."}

This summer, despite my best intentions and grand plans, I’ve been afraid of writing honestly. I started this series, More Than Defined, intending to share and explain some of the specific – and sometimes strange – ways I describe myself.

But some of those things, it turns out, aren’t so easy to write about. And so I’ve stalled. Because I’m a scaredy cat. I’m afraid of what you’ll think. I’m afraid that you’ll disagree with me, or judge me, or stop liking me. I’m afraid…

No more, I say! Next week, I’m going to dig deeper and write more. So consider yourself forewarned.

What are you afraid of? Do you find it difficult to be transparent, either in person or online?

The cat photos are by Eirik Newth. His cats were seeing his new Roomba for the first time.

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Things I Love Thursday: Crocs Flip-Flops

“Hey, are those Crocs? And they’re not bad looking?!”

That’s actually the reaction I’ve gotten to my Crocs flip-flops more than once. And it’s true. They aren’t bad looking!

And even more importantly (unless you’re a shoe person or a fashion person or something like that), they’re super comfortable. And they’re plastic. So they wash off. Which just might be important if your two-year-old daughter likes to find and jump in muddy puddles. While holding your hand and walking next to you.

I got my flip-flops last year at a conference that Crocs sponsored, and I just love them. I really can’t say that enough. As a matter of fact, I wish I could buy another pair, maybe in black or brown.

I’m not the only one in my house who loves her Crocs. Annalyn has worn out her Crocs for the second summer in a row – and we’re only halfway through the season! Poor girl. Her shoes even started out as hand-me-downs from her cousin.

That is why I was excited to see an e-mail from Crocs this week. Normally I ignore the sales flyers and coupons that clog up my inbox, but free shipping combined with a back to school sale? Well, I can’t turn that down.

If you’d like to get yourself a pair of Crocs, you can take advantage of these sales, too. [And yes, these are affiliate links.] You’ll be surprised how comfortable (and cute) they are!

You can get $5 off select products with code BACK2SCHOOL now through August 9, and for the rest of this week, you can get FREE SHIPPING (through July 24).

Oh yeah, those aren’t my exact flip-flops in the photo, but they’re pretty close. I would have taken a picture of my feet enjoying the comfort and cute-ness of my pink and grey pair, but, well, I haven’t shaved in – let’s just say – a few days. And my pedicure is very amateur. Just thank me for sparing you and move on. (And if you think these particular shoes are cute, they’re women’s Capri Suede Sandals in chocolate/bubble gum. And they come in sizes up to 12.

Do you like wearing flip-flops? What about Crocs? Ugly or wonderful? (Or somewhere in between?)

This post will be linked to Things I Love Thursday at Diaper Diaries.

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Location, location, location: It's not just for real estate.

When Mark and I were dating, he got me a card for some holiday (Valentine’s Day? Birthday? I can’t remember.) that compared real estate to kisses. As in, the key is location, location, location.

Looking back, I’m not sure that was actually appropriate, considering I was in high school and all.

But it’s true (both about kisses and real estate). It’s also true about workplaces, although I don’t think you’ll find a greeting card with that sentiment.

Can you imagine? Congratulations on your new job! I hear it’s a lateral move, but at least you’re within walking distance of that grocery store with the good salad bar!

No, I don’t think Hallmark will be breaking into this category anytime soon. But it doesn’t change the fact that where you work is sometimes just as important as, well, where you work.

I didn’t realize this at first. My first “real” job after college was in a suburb, and I took it for granted that my office building was just a few blocks from two grocery stores, a gas station, a library, a post office and several fast food restaurants.

When I moved to an office downtown, I realized how spoiled I’d been. It wasn’t that those things couldn’t be found in the downtown area, but driving to and parking at any of those places was a pain in the neck! And at that time (our downtown area has been developed and revitalized since then), the pickings for food, gas and stamps were actually pretty slim.

I worked downtown for a few years and then found myself working in an office building within a mile of that first suburban workspace. This time, my window faced the brand-new Target parking lot.

Score!

That’s right. Since I’d been gone, the area had welcomed a Target and a Panera. (Even better? That Panera has a drive-thru!)

More than once, my co-worker John in the next office (also facing Target) would holler, “Hey, Mary, did you see that dog in the parking lot?” or “What is that guy doing over there?”

Yes, we did know how to have a good time.

Unfortunately, that perfectly located job was the same job I lost when I was seven months pregnant. After a four-month maternity leave/job hunt, I found myself in a completely new (to me) job location.

This time I was close to home and within minutes of a (dying) mall, Super Walmart, post office, Target, two libraries, two grocery stores and tons of restaurants. And did I mention the 12-minute commute?

But, I realized quickly, I was so far from all my working friends. Meeting for lunch wasn’t nearly as easy as it was when I worked in the city or even south of it. There’s just something intimidating or time-consuming or something about crossing the river. And so lunch dates became increasingly rare.

Buying my non-cold groceries or mailing the bills, though? Piece of cake to get that done in an hour!

I think my favorite job location would be the ones “down south.” They were further away, but at the time, I didn’t mind the 20-30 minute drive at all. Thanks to an alternate route, I rarely faced heavy traffic, and it gave me time to think. Or, let’s be honest, wind-dry my hair when I was running late. And other than a Walmart, pretty much any type of store or restaurant I could want was close by.

Downtown offices come in a close second, though, just because I think it’s fun (or cool) to work downtown. Except in a blizzard. In that case, it’s terrible.

[For the record: If you find yourself working downtown when a blizzard hits, don’t drink a bottle of water on your way home. Because even though it normally takes just 20 minutes to get home, it quite possibly could take more than two hours. And that’s a long time to hold it. Hypothetically speaking, of course.]

The best part of my current job’s location (and, okay, I’ll admit it: sometimes the best part of my current job, period) is that it’s close to home. When Mark was working evenings, that meant I could go home for lunch and spend 35 minutes with him and Annalyn. Now that he’s working nights, it means I can pick up Annalyn from daycare and be home to spend the evening with my family by 5:00.

Do you think the location of a job is important? What’s the best place – location-wise – you’ve worked? Or the worst?

These are not my cubicles. Photos by DDFic, The Lost Dutchman, GraceFamily and Sailor Coruscant.

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How to Help a Friend Who’s Lost a Loved One

When Mark’s mom died in a car accident, we were living in my college town about three hours away.

After we got off the phone with his dad, I called my parents. She’d already talked to my father-in-law, so she knew what was going on. I don’t remember what she said, but I remember asking, “Do we need to bring funeral clothes? Are you sure?”

I just couldn’t believe it.

It’s weird, the things Mark and I remember from the days that followed. One of my most distinct memories is how nobody thought to remove the sheet from the living room couch. Mark’s mom covered the couch with a white sheet during the day – when nobody was there – to protect it from the direct sunlight it got from the windows.

When we arrived at his parents’ house and I saw family and friends crowded into the living room, sitting on the sheet-draped couch, I inappropriately thought, “Oh, Marilyn would just die if she saw that!”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Another thing I remember so clearly is how I felt when our friends from college showed up at the visitation and the funeral.

One couple drove down with their young son and stood in line for hours to see us. (If I remember correctly – and strangely enough, this is where my memory is a little fuzzy – 700 people came to the visitation. It was a Long. Line.) They literally hugged us and got back in their car to drive home.

They spent nearly six hours in the car – with a toddler – to be with us. To show us how much they cared.

The next day, at the funeral, I was surprised to see four other friends from college. They even came back to Mark’s parents’ house after the funeral to talk for a while.

There was just something so special, so meaningful about them being there with us. I’ll never forget that.

When I asked you last week how you comfort friends who are grieving, several of you mentioned just being there.

It’s so true. It doesn’t matter what you say. You might not have to say anything at all. But being there makes all the difference in the world.

A few years ago, a good friend of mine had a miscarriage. I’d never been pregnant at that point. I had no idea how she felt. But I chose to be there. Another friend and I went over to her house and we watched Ella Enchanted. That is not great cinema, let me tell you, but it didn’t matter. We were just there. And I think that helped.

You all had some other great advice, and I wanted to make sure everyone got a chance to read it. If you have some tips or insight, please feel free to add to this list in the comments!

How to Help a Grieving Friend

1. Weep with those who weep. Crying with friends and family who are grieving shows that you’re carrying the burden with them, and it can be a huge comfort to know that someone else feels that pain. (Janna)
2. Acknowledge that this sucks. I think it should go without saying, but maybe not. In case you’re tempted to toss out clichés about everything happening for a reason, let me give you one piece of advice: Don’t. Don’t say that. Don’t try to lessen your friend’s pain by playing it down. Recognize that what he or she is going through is a rotten situation, and leave it at that. (LeighDBug1)
3. Share a favorite memory of the person who died. When my Granny was in the hospital the last time (and we knew it would be the last time), we collected our favorite pictures and put together a scrapbook. It gave us something to do during those long hours in the hospital waiting room, and prompted hours of reminiscing and telling (and re-telling) the best Granny Stories. (LeighDBug1)
4. Anticipate their needs. Bring a meal, clean their house. If you tell them to call you with whatever they need, chances are they won’t. So true. When my granddad was in the hospital the last time (yes, I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals), my cousins took me to Oceans of Fun. I don’t know whose idea it was, but I am sure my mom appreciated that I was entertained and watched over while she was focusing on her dad. (LeighDBug1)
5. Hug them and simply say, “I’m sorry for your loss.” I keep it simple because whether it was expected (long illness) or unexpected (happened quickly) I think they are probably in a semi-shocked state of being. Enough said. (Cindy in PA)
6. Send a sympathy card and write something like, "I'm keeping you in my prayers. I pray that you feel God's presence, love, strength, and comfort during your time of mourning." Every time I go to buy a sympathy card, I curse the card industry. Why can’t anyone write a decent sympathy card? Why does every card have to use the word “sympathy”? I like this sentiment from Cindy in PA, and I think it would be perfect in a blank card.
7. Don't say "I know what you're going through" or "I know how you're feeling," because no, you don't. Even if you've lost a loved one under similar circumstances, you can't know how someone else is feeling. My uncle died a few years after my mother-in-law did, and it was really tempting for Mark and me to tell my cousins that we know how they feel. Of course we didn’t – but when you want so badly to comfort someone, it’s hard not to grasp onto that phrase. Because, if I went through this and survived, you can, too. Right? That’s what we mean. But no matter the intention behind the words, I’m pretty sure it’s better to avoid the comparison of one grief to another. (Chrissy)
8. Make a casserole. You know, we joke about funeral food and how cooking is a silly thing to do when someone dies. But really, who wants to cook in times of grief? Honestly, some people may not be able to eat at all. But the friends and family who come to visit or even stay with them? They will probably get hungry. (This tip’s from me.)
9. Pray. Several people left comments saying that they were praying for my cousin, my friend and me. Sometimes it might seem like a small thing and not as helpful because it’s not necessarily a tangible gift. But, to me at least, it’s so very meaningful and always appreciated.
10. Do something. Connie shared that when her dad died, “seeing the people who came to the funeral (even if I didn't get a chance to talk to them) was SO comforting. Nothing takes away the pain, but knowing each person who cared enough to write a card or come to the visitation or send flowers was a small light in an immense darkness.”

A few days before my wedding, a man in our small town was killed in an accident. His daughters were in my brother’s and my grades, and we had grown up together in church, Camp Fire and Scouts. I was devastated for them, but I’ll be honest: my head was spinning with wedding prep and jitters at that point.

Because of the timing, I wasn’t able to go to the funeral, and I felt terrible about it. I’m thankful my mom is such a pro at dealing with grief. She took a break from the wedding madness, cooked some food and sent my brother and me to the house to hug our friends.

I still feel bad about missing Jack’s funeral. But I’m thankful my mom prompted me to do something. I think Connie’s point is the best one for me: Even if you don’t know the right thing to do, something is better than nothing.

This post will be linked to OhAmanda’s Top Ten Tuesday. And I used an affiliate link.

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Let me sleep on it...

I am tired.
I’m sleepy. Drooping. Pooped.
Ugh! I’m exhausted.
Just…taaahred.

I don’t know a better way to say it, but I am dragging today. For the past 10 days or so, I have consistently deprived myself of sleep.

The first night of Savvy Blogging Summit, my roommates and I suffered from some altitude sickness. That meant pounding headaches that kept us from resting and even prompted us to get up before our alarm went off! The next night, I must have had too much to think about and process, because try as I might (and I might), I couldn’t fall asleep.

Two nights of about three hours sleep each is not my usual schedule. For various reasons (namely, trying to get more done than I had time for), I didn’t get to “catch up” on my rest last week. And then over the weekend, I went out of town to visit friends.

Chelley and I stayed up late talking both nights – but Annalyn got up at her normal early hour.

So today, I am beat. Wiped out. Done.

I’m scrambling to catch up on a work project, trying to finish not too far past my deadline. But my eyes are blurring and my head is spinning and I’m not sure I’m going to make it. (And have I mentioned how fabulous I don’t look right now? Dull skin and droopy bags do nothing for my appearance. Nothing!)

Do you ever do this to yourself? Stay up late too many nights, trying to fit it all in, scared you’ll miss something?

And what about the theory that you can catch up on sleep? Do you think it’s possible? How about when you work full-time or have children or anything on your proverbial plate at all – is it possible then?

I had great plans for today’s blog post, but all I can think about is sleep. And my lack of it. And how I need it. And want it.

Apparently I’m going through withdrawal.

Good night.

[I’m kidding. I’m going back to work now. Not napping. But I sure wish I could…]

Image by twob

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Weekend Links, 7.17.10

• How to Become a Better Writer: 11 Completely Non-Writing Related Ideas (Rachelle Gardner, Literary Agent)
• We Are Waiting For You To Fail (Blaine Hogan, Catalyst)
• Motherhood and Identity: Comparison and The List You Need To Tape To Your Forehead (Inspired To Action)
• Thoughts on “Career Women” (Nicole Wick)
• 20 Upside-Down Prayers for My Children (Lisa Tawn Bergren)
• Beer Batter Pizza Dough (Alli 'n Son)
• 10 Reasons to Stop Apologizing for Your Online Life (The Conversation, Harvard Business Review)

What’s the best thing you’ve read lately? Leave a link in the comments (yes, even if it’s your own post). Have a good weekend!

This post will be linked to Saturday Stumbles. Check it out for more good reads.

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More Than Defined: Must a Big Reader be Well-Read?

“Yeah, it IS a nerdy thing to do. I mean, to read for your job all day
and then read a book at lunch? On your break?”

That was, basically, what a co-worker said to me yesterday. And she’s right, I suppose. Reading is a nerdy hobby.

But it’s my hobby.

According to my mom, I started reading at a young age and pretty much haven’t stopped since. Growing up, I heard this phrase all the time: “Get your nose out of that book!”

Actually, I still hear that phrase. In my head.

I don’t think my love of reading is an addiction or anything, but on the other hand, I can’t NOT do it. If I’m sitting at the breakfast table without a book or magazine, I will read coupons, cereal boxes, anything.

Okay, so maybe I have a problem.

But that’s not the point of this post. My point is that I consider myself a reader. I read all the time. I read a ton of things: parenting magazines, mysteries, self-help books, marketing articles, blog posts, women’s magazines, and yes, even the occasional romance novel.

However, when it comes to the classics? The books that other “big readers” assume you’ve read?

Um…I haven’t. (Don’t tell!)

I don’t know what happened. I think I’ll blame my small-town education. Then again, the few classics I’ve read – Of Mice and Men, To Kill a Mockingbird, Romeo & Juliet – were a result of assignments in high school. I read a few short stories and plays in my American Literature and Theater Appreciation classes in college.

Other than that, though? My list of classics is embarrassingly short.

Do you think a person can be a “big reader” even if she’s not classically well-read? And what classics should I put on my to-read list?

Is she bright, so well read? Are there novels by her bed?
(Natalie Merchant, Jealousy)

For more More Than Defined, read about why I consider myself Generation X, Southern, patriotic and cool and nerdy.


This post contains affiliate links.

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Blog Conferences are Weird (a Savvy Blogging Summit recap)

“After we get back from dinner, a bunch of us are going
to get our laptops and hang out by the hot tubs.”

I mean, that’s not normal, right? To travel to the beautiful mountains of Breckenridge, Colorado, and spend the entire weekend inside with our heads in our computers?

Yet, that’s what we did, all 70 or so of the bloggers who attended last weekend’s Savvy Blogging Summit. And it was great.

I’ve gone to blogging conferences before, but this one was different. Though I met some great women and had a lot of fun, the Savvy Blogging Summit’s focus was clearly on education.

The schedule was jam packed, the speakers were outstanding, the content was relevant and challenging, and the food was delicious.

Oh, conference food doesn’t have anything to do with learning? Right. Well, if you’d enjoyed the red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting like I did, you might think differently!

I’ve planned many events throughout my career, so I know how hard it is to think of – and take care of – all the details. Because I am picky and critical have discerning taste, I often find myself disappointed by events, especially – if I’m being honest – when I’ve paid a good amount of money to attend them.

But in this case? I was truly impressed.

The speakers were experts in their fields and made complicated subjects understandable and interesting. Even after a miserable night’s sleep of three hours, I could focus on and enjoy the presentations on topics I expected to be boring: business law, accounting and SEO.

Not surprisingly, I loved the session on photography and wanted more. Since my career has given me the opportunity to work with the media, I wish I could have traded the media sessions for two more hours of photography!

In addition to the 12 – count ‘em, TWELVE – sessions, we also had seven meals. Which, as it turns out, were about much more than the cake. No minute was wasted during the weekend, and that included the meals.

Over warm rolls with real butter, fajitas and cheesy pizza, I had the opportunity to meet great folks from several of the sponsoring companies, including BlogFrog, Escalate Media, VigLink, FeedBlitz, Lijit, Mission Foods and Shop at Home. (Okay, so yeah, I’m still thinking about the food. Just a little bit. It was good!)

Before I went to Savvy Blogging Summit, I had some pretty strong doubts. After seeing the list of attendees, I realized I was in the small minority – one of the few lifestyle bloggers among dozens of frugal and deals bloggers.

But that didn’t really matter. We were all there to learn. Plus, I met some great bloggers: Janna from Mommy’s Piggy Tales, Stephanie from Keeper of the Home, Kimberly from Making Our Own Adventure, Connie from Smockity Frocks, Lauren from Mama’s Laundry Talk, Angie from Many Little Blessings, Amy from The Finer Things in Life, Amy from Raising Arrows, Tiffany from Eat at Home, Tara at Feels Like Home, Nony from A Slob Comes Clean, Karen at Saving the Family Money, Shannon at Living Life at Home – and probably more that I’m forgetting!

And I learned SO much, and I’m thankful and thrilled that I had – and took – the opportunity to go.

Thanks to Erin Chase, Andrea Deckard, Crystal Collins, Toni Anderson and Crystal Paine for planning an excellent conference!

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The Best Time to Resign (or, Take This Job and . . .)

This is pretty much exactly how I look when resigning from a job. Exactly.

I’ve quit a lot of jobs.

But don’t you dare call me a quitter. Or a job hopper. Reasonable or not, that criticism gets me going like no other. Perhaps because I’m afraid it might be true.

My first official, get-a-paycheck job was at the public library one town over from mine. I started working there the summer after my sophomore year and quit during my senior year.

I’d been thinking about quitting because I was so busy during that last year of high school, but the tipping point was when I got in trouble for talking to friends who stopped by to visit. I decided if I couldn’t do whatever I wanted, it wasn’t worth it. In my defense, I was a teenager with a teenager’s typical lack of wisdom.

[I know. Which one is more shocking – that I got in trouble for talking too much or that I quit over it?]

The next several jobs I had were temporary in nature, so leaving doesn’t really fall under the “quitting” category. (Although for those four weeks I worked at McDonald’s, I can tell you I spent my entire shift calculating exactly how many more hours I needed to work to pay my bills.)

I was sad to leave the Chamber of Commerce and my college’s registrar’s office, but not so sad to leave my summer jobs as a waitress and a Walmart cashier.

After graduating college and moving back to Kansas City, I had a hard time finding the type of job I wanted. Strangely, though, the bills didn’t stop coming, so I took a job at a staffing company. Ironically, I spent those three months helping other people find jobs.

When at long last I found the type of job I was looking for – planning non-profit events – I was ecstatic. Not only would I be putting my education and passion to good use, but I’d be escaping the monotonous and excruciating job I’d been enduring.

[If only I’d known a) how much longer it would take me to find future jobs and b) how not excrutiating that job actually was. Ahhh, foolish youth. And hindsight. And all that good stuff.]

Unfortunately, when it came time to put in my two weeks’ notice, I realized the timing could not be any worse. Shortly before that two-week date arrived, I was scheduled for my three-month review. The next day, my manager was leaving for a week-long vacation that would put her back just about 10 days before my planned last day.

I had a choice: I could either keep quiet and not give a full two week’s notice – or muck up both my performance review and my manager’s vacation by telling her early that I’d be leaving.

I chose to give my full notice in that review, before my manager’s vacation. The next day, the company’s owner told me that I’d ruined my manager’s vacation and I should just leave without finishing my two weeks.

So much for doing the right thing.

The next time I quit a job, I found myself in a similar boat. I left that first dream job to go to graduate school, so I knew for a few months that I’d be leaving. I was heartbroken to give up my job that I truly loved, but I felt that God had given me an amazing opportunity I’d be foolish to ignore.

It was hard to keep my impending exit a secret, but what complicated matters was the possibility of a training conference. My boss, unaware that I wouldn’t be with the organization much longer, was considering sending me to a conference before the time I’d leave.

I didn’t feel right spending the organization’s money when I knew I wouldn’t be using that training, so I ended up giving nine weeks’ notice. [And returning after one semester of graduate school, but that’s a story for another time!]

Since then, I’ve written several resignation letters and left several jobs. The process is different every time, and so are my feelings surrounding it.

When I left grad school (and my teaching commitment), I felt like a failure.
When I left that first non-profit job (for good), I felt like a failure again. And angry. And scared.
When I left my first advertising agency job, I felt relief.
When I left my second agency job, I was disappointed and confused. And excited.

Have you quit many jobs? How did you feel?

Photos from the 2002 movie that Smitty hated but I loved (despite its incorrect title punctuation), Two Weeks Notice.

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