2023 Planning Steps

Wow! This last season has been a challenging one and while I'm grateful for all the joy and lessons and growth, I'm needing to get back to writing again. So...I'm easing back in with a series of journal prompts to share some stories with my kids and future grandkids.

1. Where did you grow up?

I grew up in a small town in southern Oregon called Central Point. Mom and Dad moved from Iowa City the month before I was born, in 1979, and settled temporarily in Grants Pass, where Great-grandma Spitz lived. They settled in Central Point, first in a house and then an apartment on Glenn Way across from the elementary school. The apartment had a small yard with bark instead of grass and a small tree. We road bikes around town and loved playing at the school playground.

I attended Grace Christian school for kindergarten and first grade, where we met the Fischer family. Clare was the grade behind me and became a very dear friend. Clare has remained a close friend all these years. After first grade, I was homeschooled, which was both positive and negative, depending on the day.

I was very introverted and enjoyed solo library visits and small ballet classes. Dance became a big part of my life and continued to be so well into young adulthood. I was involved at our church in choir and participated in recording two albums of children's music with our director. I also enjoyed our youth Awana clubs.

When dad left during my 6th grade year, mom and the boys and I made plans to move to Iowa to be near family. The week after my 13th birthday, I went to youth camp (which was a really bad experience) and then we moved two weeks later. We lived with mom's parents in Iowa City for three years, during which time grandpa died. We moved to an apartment in Coralville as I graduated homeschool high school early and began classes at Kirkwood Community College. I moved out of that apartment when I got married in 1998.

I call myself an Oregonian, but in reality, I've lived in Iowa significantly longer. I miss the mountains and the ocean, but I have learned to love the fields and rivers of Iowa. ❤

Book: Make A Difference (aka Camel)

Last week in a post, I mentioned that I am a camel and promised to fill you in on what that means...since it is normally not nice to call people animals.So here it is:

I was introduced to this research and study last spring and finally made it through the book this month. The book, Making A Difference by Dr Larry Little, is the first in a series of four on effective leadership utilizing an understanding of personalities. Whether in a marriage, family, work or community relationship, working through differences and conflict are essential for success. But not everyone experiences or processes these the same way. Understanding how I experience and process helps me understand my reaction to people or situations that don't line up with my view. Learning how others experience and process gives me the opportunity to speak their "language," if you will, and communicate more effectively.

Similar to other personality tests, think people, task, introvert and extrovert, Dr Larry uses animals as a unique twist. Monkey, Lion, Camel and Turtle are a fun way to discuss and process the information. For example a Camel: "When you think of Camels, think of processors, organizers, or systemic thinkers. It's all in the details for Camels. They are naturally introverted and pride themselves on following the rules." (pg 23) "The quickest way to destroy a relationship with a Camel is to withdraw all structure and organization from the relationship. Camels are analytical, detail-driven, and process-oriented. ...An unstructured environment causes a Camel to feel our of control. When a Camel feels out of control, he or she will become extremely critical and remove him or herself from the environment if at all possible." (pg 80-81)

Oh, my goodness, this is so me! While I may have some traits of the other animals and can certainly move outside my quadrant and, for example, be very outgoing in a certain situation, this is who I am when I am tired, stressed or in crisis mode. To be more emotional, outgoing or unstructured takes an emotional and mental toll on me, which then has to be replenished and refilled.

Once my primary animal was identified, the book then goes on to look at ways to communicate and connect with other animal personalities. I am detailed, but the Monkeys in my life are not. Asking my Monkeys to plan for next month is only going to frustrate both of us. Asking my Monkeys for ideas, creative avenues and to join me in a spontaneous activity can be fruitful. Learning how to work with each type or blending of types since not everyone is a thoroughbred, can limit frustrations and help resolve conflicts in productive ways so that our relationship(s) can grow and deepen.

My youngest is a wholehearted Monkey! She is outgoing and fun loving and spontaneous! She loves to spring ideas on the family, like right now we must go visit the cousins. Tomorrow will not work and next week might as well be forgotten. My second youngest is a Turtle (pictured below). He is thoughtful and emotional and determined. You cannot hurry him or speed him up or pressure him without risking a mental wall.

I kept thinking of the lessons I've been learning about love languages and how identifying mine is helpful and learning the languages of those I love and care about can deepen the relationships, but I can take it one step further and learn how to receive love communicated through other languages. Maybe this is similar. Understanding my personality and how I best communicate is helpful, but learning how to communicate, especially through conflict, in other languages can strengthen these relationships. Maybe one step further is to learn how to receive communication in a conflict or stressful situation in other languages.

There are three other books in the series, so I am sure I have more to uncover here, but I am enjoying the conversations in our home with my animals (it has often felt like I live in a zoo...) and broadening my understanding when working with the people in my life. Certainly making me think...

If you are interested in reading the book for yourself, it is available here

If you are interested in taking the personality test to discover whether you are a monkey, lion, camel or turtle, it is available here

Quilting: Anniversary Quilts

Since 2011, I have found great release and solace in quilting. Pulling pieces together, working them into a whole fabric and creating a work of art. But I found through the process, an opportunity to pray. Pray for myself, the person receiving this art, or anything on my heart. A couple years ago, I decided to make anniversary quilts for my sister-in-laws. The were both celebrating their 10th wedding anniversaries and this seemed like a neat opportunity to gift both couples.

As I selected the patterns and fabrics and began pulling pieces together, working them into a whole, I prayed. I prayed for them as individuals, as couples, as families. I prayed for the struggles and challenges and for the blessings and joys. As I worked to create these works of art, I wove in blessings and prayers and love. And as I presented them to these couples, I prayed that these quilts would act as a symbolic covering over their homes, families and marriages.

This quilt took on an Asian feel with a cherry tree branch appliqued across the top. It pushed my limits and abilities a bit, combining a couple patterns and making my own applique, but I really like how it turned out.

This quilt featured fabrics from the Downton Abbey line, as well as a beautiful sheet music print. This pattern was pretty challenging as well, angles never were my strength, but I love the end result!

I appreciate those that have helped me with this piece of my journey. I never saw myself as a quilter, but am thankful for this passion I never knew I had.

Sewing: Dresses

Many years ago, I promised my oldest two that for their sixteenth birthdays, they would get separate parties. The past thirteen years, they have shared parties, sometimes more graciously then others, but I wanted this to be all theirs. Our oldest turned sixteen this fall and as I promised, we planned two parties. I bought the boys suits and looked at purchasing dresses for the girls, but couldn't find anything we all liked in both sizes. So I decided to sew them.

We selected a pattern and fabric that would work for both parties, as well as Christmas and the father/daughter dance this month. We chose a lovely mid-fifteenth century style and gorgeous blue and silver fabrics. This was the first time I had ever sewn with metallic and don't recommend it! The little silver threads pulled and snagged easily while sewing and creating the dresses, but have continued to snag as they have been worn. I think I would have done a brocade without metallic if I was to do it again.

I also had to alter the dresses quite a bit, as my oldest is quite tall and the pattern didn't include both of their sizes, so the little one was completely re-patterned. After much deliberation, measuring, cutting, sewing, tearing out and resewing, we had two beautiful dresses with jackets for the parties. I had both girls assist with the process, including seam ripping, so these dresses were their creation too.

These photos truly don't do my girls or the dresses justice, but I hope you can imagine just how lovely they are! I appreciated the challenge of this project and see more matching dresses in my future sewing endeavors.

Languages of Love (Part 2)

A few years back for our anniversary my husband went all out, showering me with love for 15 days, one for every year we had been married. I was embarrassed and ashamed at the time to admit how much I disliked his "gift" and wished he had done something different. I went into detail in a blog post about a year later as my word for the year, clarity, was shining a light where I really didn't want it to. You can read up on that part of the story here.

Last month we celebrated another anniversary and he decided to do something big and lavish again. He kept tiptoeing around, though, trying to be sensitive to me and meet my expectations. I found myself cringing...the effects of the events four years ago were still impacting our marriage. I needed to take measures to break them immediately. I realized I needed to give my husband permission (ack, there's that word again) to love me. That sounds so simple, but it really was quite difficult.

Darling, you decide where we're going, when we leave and who cares for the children. Honey, you choose what we do (dinner, movie, ice skating, etc...) and just tell me when to be ready and whether I should dress for outdoors, indoors or formal. I don't need to control the plans, the details...I trust you. I will receive your gift of time, food, gifts, that you choose with all the love I sincerely believe you intend. Period.

I am a camel (a future blog, I promise) and do not handle chaos and unknowns well. I have come a long way and regularly live with last minute plans and details yet to be determined. I am raising at least one monkey and a turtle (what?) and I am learning to give them the space and encouragement they need to be who they are, not mini mes, but truly their own persons. But holy cow...in the midst of the chaos of the holidays and something as significant as our anniversary, to not only let go of all control, but to choose to accept whatever is given (even if it's not what I would have chosen) was a big step for me. Please don't judge. Find the camel in your life and ask...(again, another post, I promise).

My dearest husband arranged the care he felt was needed for our children and told me to be ready for a formal evening by 1:30pm. That was it.

Two hours later, I found myself in a salon in Des Moines getting a manicure (I can count on one hand how many of those I've ever had and never in a salon!). Then he took me to dinner at The Cheesecake Factory (only the second time I've ever eaten there...oh, so good!). As we were eating he said some really nice words about the woman, wife and mother I have become and then gave me this ring...

When we were married, we were dirt poor. We had barely enough to scrape by each month. So when he asked if I wanted an engagement ring, I said no. Diamonds just weren't important, eating was. In fact we didn't even exchange wedding bands at the ceremony. We saved up and bought them for our fifth anniversary. As the years went by, I had hoped our finances would allow for a small diamond ring, but something else always took precedence over diamonds. As more years went by, I realized an anniversary band made more sens as I felt this fit my lifestyle more. But still, diamonds didn't make it high enough on the list of places to put our money. A couple months ago, I saw this ring in a Kohl's ad at a ridiculously reduced price. I hinted that maybe it would be a good alternative and that maybe these diamonds could make it in the budget. He found a way and I am in love. Not because it is the ring I always wanted, it isn't. But because I know he gave it with all the love in his heart.

I know I am his one and only and every time I look at this ring, I am reminded that he stepped outside of his comfort zone to get this for me, he sacrificed to bring me joy. I gave him permission and he went above and beyond. But I had to give myself permission too. Permission to receive is maybe even harder than permission to give...I have a feeling I am not at the end of this lesson yet, but can say I am excited to have made it this far!

Welcome 2018

Hey there! I have been a bit absent, well, very absent for the last year and a half. I needed some time. Time to process on my own, to work through some ideas, to just be unbusy, uncommitted, unpressured. Writing this blog had become a to-do item, not a joy and release like it was in the beginning. So I took some time, re-evaluated my thoughts, life and goals and have decided to come back to the blog this year...so welcome to 2018!

I want to start this year and my first post back with my word. Each of the past four years I have chosen a word to be my focus for that year. This year, I have chosen "Permission" as my word to focus on.

Permission:  consent; authorization; approval; blessing; empowerment; say-so; the OK

The consent to say no. The authorization to try something new. The approval to move forward with an idea. The blessing to bow out. The empowerment to choose. The say-so to say yes. The OK to be the boss of me.

Whew...that kind of scares me...which means it is a good word for me. I find this challenge works better when I am not totally comfortable with the implications, I am ready for the unknown outcome that will inevitably come through this year. Years where I felt the word was safe, knocked me to the ground (in a good way) and woke me up to the reminder that I am very much not in control.

Today, this week, this month, permission means I am saying a lot of "no" in exchange for down time, me time, unbusyness. I am also saying yes to a couple things that I have felt held back from and am just going to dive in this year. I give myself permission to try and risk failing. I give myself permission to find this hard and challenge myself to look for the lessons, the positive, the gratitude. I can't wait to see what this year and this focus on permission will bring...bring it on!

Football

So this has been on my heart for several days and it simply needs to be shared…

I feel privileged to have my son in such an amazing football program. I have tried to verbalize this to friends and family, but I don’t think I am doing it justice. These coaches are men of character and honor, men of faith, men who are more concerned with the values they are instilling in our boys than they are in the numbers on the board when the clock runs out. I have been honored to witness these coaches do what they say, setting an example, being the kind of role models our boys, our young men, need so badly. I have watched these boys win and loose with integrity and good sportsmanship, with qualities that will serve them well in life. I have watched these boys surround each other and build each other up, leaning not just teamwork, but honor and comradery too. When one succeeds, the whole team succeeds. When one fails, the whole team shakes it off and tries again.

And that is really it…trying again, not giving in to the failure or the fear of failure or the spectators yelling at them. They know who they are, they are champions! They are champions because they show up, because they give their all, because when the time on the clock runs out, they have left everything they had on the field.  Failure is a part of life, but somewhere along the way we decided it was bad, it was shameful, it was something to avoid. I would argue that teaching our young men (and women) how to fail with honor, to see it as information in their pursuit of success, we could change out homes, our communities, our country. We have a nation filled with people who see themselves as victims. Why bother trying when everything is working against me? Why bother when I am being put down and persecuted? Why? Because you and I are only victims if we allow ourselves to be…even the worst of situations can be material to grow through IF you know how to. These boys are learning how.

Inventor Albert Einstein was one of the most brilliant minds we have ever known, yet he was deemed slow as a child. Thomas Edison invented the light bulb, after failing to do so 1000 times, one thousand times! One of the greatest basketball players of all time, Michael Jordan, claims to have missed more than 9000 shots, lost 300 games and missed the game-winning shot 26 times. Bill Gates and Steve Jobs both failed at college and business before building their respective billions. Olympian Michael Phelps was diagnosed with ADHD and told by a teacher he would not succeed at anything, he found solace in the water and is now the most decorate Olympian of all time.

What if these men had quit? What if they had taken to heart the criticism? What if they had grown weary of failing? What greatness, what successes, have we not witnessed because someone gave up, because the weight of failure became too much?  

In 1910, President Roosevelt gave a speech in Paris titled “Citizenship in a Republic” about human rights and the role of citizens, among other things. But there is one passage that has been quoted (and titled) independently, “The man in the arena.” I would like to quote it here, in case you are unfamiliar:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

The credit belongs to these coaches who spend themselves in a worthy cause, in our sons, teaching them both victory and defeat. Teaching them to stand, and after falling to stand again. The credit belongs to these young men who are not only learning this themselves, but helping to teach the younger ones. The credit belongs to each one of these players every time they take the field and play with honor and leave everything on the field. If they can learn these principles…what can stop them from success in life? This program is about more than just football…so much more!

(As a side note for those who love God things...we have always believed our property was saved for us. It went on the market and had a sale pending almost immediately, when that sale fell through, we were allowed to put in our offer before it officially became available. We have always believed that God walked us through remodeling the corn crib and grew us through some pretty big failures on this property. What we took for granted was the school district...the other side of the street is one school district, two miles south is another, but we are in Union (Dysart/La Porte City). If our property were simply on the other side of the street, I may never have pursued their football program and found this amazing opportunity for our boys. Fifteen years ago, God knew!)