I Will Still...

When I was younger, I would furiously write about how I felt when I was in the middle of tumultuous emotions. My mom says that she would often walk by my room and hear a mad assault of pen on paper. Somehow, I've lost this healthy habit and am resurrecting it now. The clicking of keys isn't as satisfying as scrawling on paper, but it's much faster!

And I need to get my thoughts out. I've never been so hurt and saddened and afraid by an election outcome. I'm overwhelmed by what I deem as ignorance, injustice, and basic foolishness in electing a man who is so clearly inept, disgusting, and ridiculous. I felt the beginnings of a panic attack last night when I realized Trump was going to win and literally forced myself to stop refreshing poll results so that I could go to sleep. I had a dream that I punched someone in the face for patting my baby bump too hard. Somehow it's related.

I don't understand how this happened. But it did. And we are all in it together, whether we voted for this crazy guy or not. I refuse to crumple and give into panic, which is so tempting to do because all I see right now is a vague future of angry shouting, blind refusal to accept facts, and a general disregard for the value of every person's life. I hate that I have to listen to that man's stupid face for at least four more years. I hate that he represents our country.

BUT, while this fear and anger swirls around my thoughts, I again refuse to let it keep me from joy. I've overcome too much in my personal life to let some arrogant billionaire who will never know my name rob me of what I've worked so hard to get: joy. I can't help but think: what if we become a modern version of Nazi Germany? Am I being extreme? Probably, but I think it's possible that we could become at least a fraction of that, at least in terms of intolerance and hatred.

Even if that happened, if all Muslims were banned from the U.S. and immigrants were rounded up like criminals, I promise to do my part in history and stand up for them. I'm not conceited enough to think that I alone would change the world, but I would change a small droplet of it. I would protest. I would house people who needed it. I would try to protect my family while also trying to protect those who need it. I'll stand up to bullies and racists and sexists and everything-ists, and teach my little babies to do the same.

I will still live my life. I will still be happy. I will still laugh. I will still be Isaac's mommy. I will still be Ryan's wife. I will still do improv and sketch comedy. I will still own at Ticket to Ride. I will still read good books and drink tea and have a beautiful baby girl. I will still teach my children to be courageous and intelligent in an impossibly stubborn and illogical world. I will still travel. I will still watch every College Humor sketch. I will still hold an everlasting internal debate whether to keep my hair long or to chop it off. I will still do Sunday LA Times crosswords.

Most importantly, I will still love God and I will still love people. And that's the power of God's Word...nothing can defeat him or his followers: no nation, no president, no dictator, no war, no legislation. Humanity has endured every form of evil and yet good still exists. That alone is a testament to God's endurance. I don't know why He doesn't just wipe out the crazy evil people, but I do know that light continues to triumph over darkness.

The Effort of Doing Things

In my composition class today, we talked about procrastination and a student suggested this Ted Talk, which we watched. I'm so glad she suggested it because in the short video, the speaker addressed the issue of procrastinating on things that "have no deadlines." This is one of my biggest daily struggles: doing things. Not even important things, but THINGS.

For example, I've had pounds of these apples sitting on my counter since last week. I have every intention of making applesauce, apple butter, and apple jam out of them. I even have the equipment pulled down from the cabinets...and, yet, I can't seem to get to the point of cutting the apples up and DOING all this. It's not hard. I have the time. But. I. Just. Don't. Do. It.

This is just one example of constant THINGS that I don't do...like blogging, or exercising, or laundry, or cleaning...and I know a lot of kind people will say, "Oh, you do plenty. You're raising a toddler with one on the way. You teach. Give yourself a break. We all need to slow down."

Mostly true. I AM raising a toddler and growing a new one...but the rest, not so much. Sure, I teach, but it's for a few hours two mornings a week...and I give myself wayyyyy too many breaks. Just yesterday, I was laying down during Isaac's nap, not even wanting to lie down, but feeling like the effort of moving was too much work. It was a gross feeling. I'm thankful Isaac sleeps so well and I get more than enough sleep (if he didn't sleep well, I'd probably throw a dart at someone writing this same blog..."waaaaahhh...I get too much rest!").

However, I need to keep myself moving, even just reading or cleaning. I feel so much better when I've gotten some things done, even if no one will ever notice the effort. Who cares if I ever make applesauce? Who cares if I vacuum under the couch? Who cares if I go for a walk? None of these things will change the world, but they'll change my day. They'll break away the cobwebs in my brain. They'll give my body a need for rest at the end of the day.

 I want Isaac and Danfrieda to see me as an "active mommy," someone who plays and creates. There's nothing to do about all this, but to keep working on doing things. Of course, it's unhelpful to beat myself up over it, but I should at least keep myself motivated by reminding myself why I want to be active.

Bucket List

What I want to do before I die, in no particular order:

- Visit Antarctica, Ireland, Machu Picchu, Greece, and Turkey

- Go hang-gliding

- Win one of those restaurant hamburger challenges

- Have a legitimate reason to see an old friend and say, "I thought you were dead!"
- Have an old friend see ME and have a legitimate reason to say, "I thought you were dead!"

- Run with the bulls in Spain

- Go on a cross-country bicycle trip

- Sit in an SNL audience...or be ON the show

- Go to a ball in a fancy gown

- Teach a creative writing class

- Catch a fish

- Do the ghost pepper challenge

- Celebrate a 75th wedding anniversary with Ryan
- Hear Isaac call me "my ladyship" without prompting
- Go snow skiing
- Parasail with grandkids

Ridding Myself of THIS

The love Ryan and I have for each other is completely unlike what I expected when I was younger. Up until the end of college, I had some pretty ridiculous expectations for love...basically, I expected love to be a never-ending thrill ride of daring adventures and emotional thrills. I wanted passion and drama. I wanted mummies and pirates and whatever other obstacles that would end in some climactic kiss at the end. Basically, never-ending excitement.

Now, I'm so glad I don't have that Hollywood version of love. How exhausting would it be to constantly be thrown into near-death experiences? We would be racking up so much debt in therapy bills. Real life has turned out to be much better.

For example, this past year I confessed something to Ryan I had hid from him for our entire relationship. For the sake of this blog (and my pride, honestly), it's not important what this thing was. We'll just call it "THIS." THIS was yet another way in which I sabotaged myself to try and pacify my ever-present anxieties. Basically, I'm an anxious person and have a history of relieving that anxiety in less than great ways.

THIS was something that I struggled with on and off for a long time. Each time I did THIS, I would think, "Ok, that was stupid, but now I'm done with THIS. That's the last time. I'm done and no one has to know about it." I've done that before, convinced myself that I don't need to tell anyone about self-destructive behavior because "this was the last time."

Well, when THIS happened again, I knew it wasn't going away without accountability. I think I've always known that, but finally decided THIS needed to die. And, as I've learned from admitting previous dumb things I've done, I knew the only way for THIS to die was to tell Ryan. I reached this conviction during a church meeting, of all cliche places. Throughout the meeting, I slowly felt the terrorizing peace that only God's convictions can bring. During a break, I told Ryan I needed to talk with him. He clearly wanted to stay for the rest of the meeting, but I said it was important. Because he's better than any Hollywood man, he immediately grabbed his stuff and we picked up Isaac and left. In the car, with Isaac making adorable cooing noises in the backseat, I told Ryan about THIS. Guh, it sucked, but even as I was saying it all, I knew I was shattering the last remaining division between us. Ok, maybe not the last, because no marriage is perfect, but it was definitely the last LARGE remaining division.

And, without questioning why I did THIS or why I hadn't told him sooner, Ryan kissed me on the forehead and said he was proud of me for being so brave.

While we were still dating, I had confessed another big mistake I had consistently made. My counselor at the time said that by bringing this secret out into the light, I had robbed it of its power. And now I've robbed THIS of its power. The frustrating thing, though, is there's always something I have to keep bringing into the light, something I keep having to force from my secret, evil dungeons. I know that's just part of the importance of God's grace, that we're never "good enough" on our own, but it seems like at a certain point I should be able to get rid of all the "really bad" stuff.

But God's healed me in so many ways that I have hope there's a place where this junk will finally be refused entrance into my mind and body. I can't say I have pure, unshakable faith that this place actually exists or that it's always a comfort to think of such a place, but the hope is there and that's something.

Mother's Day: Travel Edition

Mother's Day is a great holiday, but I think there needs to be a bonus day for Mothers Who Were Mothers During Trauma Day...or something a little more Hallmark-sounding. For real, though, my mom raised my sister and me better that most do in good situations.

A large part of The Big Red Boat is a tribute to my mom's parenting. Each year  I like to compile a list of ways that my mom is exceptionally-deserving of Mother's Day appreciation and this year, I'm making a special travel edition. Along with being a great mother at home, Mom was hilarious on vacations:

5. Mom is not afraid of strangers. For example, in 1999 we went to Frutigen, Switzerland. We were trying to navigate the town with a cab driver who didn't speak English. We were trying to find a cemetery because, you know, who doesn't look up dead ancestors on vacation? The driver had no idea what "cemetery" meant, so my mom tried "graveyard" and "tomb" and "death," but nothing was ringing a bell. I think Kristin even pretended to shoot someone. Laughing, mom mimed wrapping a noose around her neck, then dropped her head with a croaking sound. That worked.

4. Along with not being afraid of strangers, Mom isn't that afraid of being embarrassed by them. In high school she took my sister and me to Europe again, this time to Paris and Austria. We were traveling from Paris by train to Vienna. Now, I mentioned in my book how my mom had this demon suitcase she insisted on taking even though the wheels were broken and it weighed 500 pounds. So, we had gotten on the wrong bus and were barely on time for the train. There was an escalator up to our train platform, but of course it was broken and my mom couldn't carry the demon suitcase. Kristin and I dragged it up the stairs, somehow still at the top before my mom, screaming at her to hurry. Turns out we still had another 10 minutes, so we didn't need to create that whole scene after all. On the train, though, we couldn't find our cabin and were so grumpy that we just commandeered an empty one, hoping no one would care. Well, halfway into the train ride, we learned from an attendant that the train was splitting at the next stop, half was going to Germany, the other half to Austria. Awesome. So we started getting our bags to get to the other side of the train, but just then the train started slowing down. Losing our minds, we tore through the aisles, which was slow going because of mom's demon suitcase. We weren't going to make it. So we hopped off the train and RAAAANNNN down the platform to the other end. The doors were closed on the other end and we were banging on them and screaming. Now, it takes a while for trains to separate so we still had plenty of time. The doors opened with a press of a button, so again we were glad to create another unnecessary scene. On the train, gasping and on edge, we finally find our cabin. A few others were in there, calmly reading, when my mom (who was still nervous from all the freaking out we had just accomplished), SCREAMS at one guy, "I will give you a million dollars if you PICK UP MY BAG!" I wish I could express how mortified I was, and how funny I now find it.

3. One of my favorite trip-planning memories was after a Hawaiian cruise. We were in San Francisco on a trolley, bummed that the trip was almost over. "Where are we going next summer?" Kristin asked. "Egypt!" I said, not actually thinking we'd go because mom had been saying for years it was too dangerous. To our surprise, Mom said, "Um...yeah. Let's do it. But only if we do a Holy Lands tour, too, in Israel." Yeah. We were okay with that.

2. On The Big Red Boat, our first big trip, Mom and Kristin sang karaoke to "These Boots Were Made For Walking." I hadn't seen Kristin laugh that hard before.

1. Never having driven on the left side of the road, Mom rented a car in England and just "figured it out." Granted, we got a flat tire after hitting a curb too hard, but still, once it was fixed she did really well! This was also the first time any of us had used (or even knew of) a GPS. We named the voice "Margo."

Basically, my mom is awesome. Not just for taking us on ridiculously awesome trips, but for being adventurous in the first place. That adventurousness allowed me to have the confidence to travel on my own and explore opportunities in my regular life. Thank you, Mom, for helping me be who I am.