Confessions of a Closet Fangirl

{Let’s just get this out of the way…I’ve been a bad “blogger” friend.  I have been avoiding writing for quite a while.  At first, I couldn’t think of anything to write about.  And then when I did, I was too busy.  And before you roll your eyes, I’m not someone who pulls the “I’m too busy card” often…but seriously, the last 18 months of our lives have been OUT.OF.CONTROL!  And then when something would settle down long enough for me to sit down and write, I’d talk myself out of it because it had been so long…it’s embarrassing! (Besides, almost anything I’d write about I already told my mom and as I’ve said before, she could very well be the only one reading this.) So there are my excuses and my apology. I’ve had a recent reminder that bravery and transparency give others the permission to be brave and transparent.  When I originally started writing “out loud”, it took all of the bravery I had and it was the one definite place I gave myself permission to let it all hang out, as transparent as I could be.  So forgive me and let us all move on.}

I wouldn’t normally describe myself as the fangirl type.  (And if you have no idea what I’m talking about when I say fangirl, do yourself a HUGE favor and youtube “One Direction fangirl moments” or any variation of that!  You can thank me later! ) Like I said, I’ve never been a fangirl.  Because of my mom’s super-awesome 90’s American-Christian parenting, secular music was banned in my house, so the closest thing I got to a boy band was a Christian version called Plus One and believe me, it’s as terrible as it sounds.  I’m sure my mom would put this particular house rule in the category of over-zealous parenting along with her apology for not letting us celebrate Halloween, but who here hasn’t had a few over-the-top parenting moments? 

**I actually instated a rule at our house for a while that no kids were allowed to pray at dinner because I was tired of listening to them fight over who should get to talk to God first—I’m serious, people!  (Talk about screwing your kids up!) (Also, I love you, Mom!) 

Until two weeks ago, I thought it was strange that anyone would have a desire to meet a celebrity, ask them to sign their name to something, and feel like their life was somehow enhanced in a supernatural sort of way.  I simply did not get it. 

That is until my “celebrity” BFF, Jen Hatmaker, in the flesh, was in the same arena as I. (And if you don’t know who Jen is either, honestly people, I don’t know how to help you.  I can’t be your pop culture guide, I am missing an entire decade of music, remember?!)  Honest to goodness, I felt like a 15 year old girl at her very first concert!  (In every way…we couldn’t afford the good seats, so we had to settle for being so far up the lights were almost in our way…)  But then miracle of miracles, we were given closer seats, mere rows from that truth-tellin, hysterical, insightful, make you think woman! 

I will go to my grave saying that when we yelled her name, she actually waved AT.US.  (Not just at the crazed crowd…at.us!)

All this to say, my friends secured a place for me in her line, to meet her, to have her sign her name in my book!  (It’s still all a little weird, right?)  As I stood there, I couldn’t believe how ridiculous I was.  I was finding my breathing shallow, my hands a little trembly.  I was trying to decide what I’d say to her.  Should it be something clever?  Something deep?  Should I show her my sense of humor?  Ask her to coffee?

 If this is how boys feel when they go to ask a girl out for the first time, have mercy!  Those poor things! It’s a wonder the human race hasn’t ceased to exist!

When my turn finally came, I stammered something about reading her book and something about my husband and…I don’t even know!  It was all happening so fast and the security people and event volunteers were all in such a big hurry and they were telling us to look at the camera and she was clearly putting on a very nice front for all these weird women who thought they had some special connection to her and were saying all these cheesy, unimpressive things and I’m pretty sure she could sense the holiness of the moment we were about to have and right as we were about to embrace and she would tell me how she’d been waiting for a friend like me her entire life and we should get our families together for dinner…they were pushing me away and trying to usher the next person in!

Can you even? 

So, there you have it.  Confessions of a closet fangirl.  I had no idea I had it in me.  My only regret is that I didn’t hug her and refuse to let her go, much like my friend Celeste when she got to meet Sandi Patti.  She made the absolute most of her moment, dang it!  (Though she too, was forbidden from Halloween, she was/is a die-hard Backstreet Boys fan, so she had a slight edge on the fangirl market.)

Until we meet again, Jen…

 

Your BFFTYHNIEE,         

(Best Friend Forever That You Have No Idea Even Exists)

Autumn

Confessions of the Temporarily Insane

I could feel the intensity of my emotions rising.  My daughter hadn’t slept well in days, which in turn meant I hadn’t slept well in days. Lunch was already an hour and a half late, my husband was seemingly oblivious to the fact that the baby in his arms was crying, needed to be fed, and that I was now announcing for the third time that lunch was finally ready. 

Side note: I should warn you that my family suffers from food-sleep deprivation syndrome (FSDS).  In layman’s terms, this simply means that when one has been deprived of either food or sleep for an extended period of time, short-tempers, dirty looks, and a landslide of emotions will quickly follow.  Deprivation of both food and sleep could have lethal consequences.

      As I took the baby from him, he made a comment about not being able to hear over a crying baby and then he did it…every wife knows what I’m about to say…he smirked! (Ok, that wasn’t what you thought I was going to say and in hind sight the next part of my story may qualify as an overreaction.)I couldn’t believe it, here I was doing everything and he thought this was a joking matter!

 …Didn’t he know how tired and overworked I was?  Doesn’t he understand how demanding it is to be a nursing mother?  He probably expects me to make sure Ronan gets fed, too.  How can he not see all of these toys lying around?  I am so sick of being the only responsible adult around here!...

And then it happened.  I completely erupted.  I opened with how irritating he was, how he seemed to enjoy getting on my nerves and I didn’t stop there.  I decided to let him have it.  At this point I believe I had an out of body experience, presumably due to the bout of FSDS I was suffering from.  I continued to yell, while nursing.  (Amazing how a mother can learn to do anything while breastfeeding.)  I vaguely remember challenging him to pick a fight with me.  I think I may have actually used the term “throw down” at some point. 

      Who was this completely irrational person yelling at her husband?  It couldn’t actually be me.  I’m a peacekeeper.  I dislike confrontation.  I make it a point not to address every issue I have with my husband in an effort to keep the peace. We have our occasional quarrel, but this was on a whole new level.

      Thankfully my husband hadn’t lost his mind that day, too. He just looked at me as if I’d grown horns.  (Which, maybe I did.  At this point, I’m still not completely sure as to all of the details of my 10 minute tirade.)  He chose not to engage me, was pretty patient, and even offered to talk it out.  It wasn’t until several days later that I realized what had actually happened.

 I am doing a bible study with a group of ladies from church based on Lysa TerKeurst’s book, “Unglued”.  (I’m not even halfway through it and I can tell you that I would highly recommend it. It’s very good!)  It is a book geared toward dealing with confrontation and emotions in the moment.  In this particular chapter, Lysa was addressing the four types of reactors she believes most people fall into.  (Lucky for my family I fall into all four categories.)  She discusses the exploders who shame themselves, exploders who blame others, the stuffers who kind of wallow in their pain, and the stuffers who collect retaliation rocks.

A stuffer who collects retaliation rocks is the person who pretends nothing is bothering them, stuffing their emotions.  In the process of stuffing their emotions, they are collecting all of these thoughts/feelings that will later be used as ammunition (proof) against someone.

 In trying to keep the peace with my husband, I was collecting a lot of negative emotions and thoughts rather than dealing with them.  And based on my reaction, I had collected quite an arsenal to use against him.  Turns out all I needed was the right, lethal combination to ignite the reaction.

I am working to find a more appropriate and godly way to express myself, but boy does it get frustrating! I am not ashamed to admit that I like “instant”.  I would prefer perfect, instant change, but unfortunately, there is no magic formula, prayer, or amount of chocolate that can change me overnight.  There is grace, though.  The same grace my husband extended to me in my moment of temporary insanity, and the same grace that God gives me when I hurl my hurts on the people He and I both love so dearly. So, I will continue to take steps in the right direction, even if I don’t do it perfectly.   Most importantly, I will keep a stash of emergency snacks on hand so as not to aggravate my “condition”.