We made it back from the fall retreat in one piece. I did dive in as the last post suggested and got very wet. As in, it rained half the weekend. But I also had a great time with these students and so enjoyed their company. It took me a few hours to transition from mommy to youth leader. I think by midnight of the first night, the transition was complete. And because I cannot process life without photos, here are a few for your viewing pleasure.
These are the girls in my cabin. Y’all. Could they be any cuter? Seriously, I wasn’t that cute in high school. Were you? I think people are getting cuter over the years. Survival of the Cutest.
We did a lot of walking this weekend. Lots of hills. And mud. I don’t think the students even noticed the walking. And then there was me who was calculating how many days I could skip on the treadmill because of all the exercise I was getting.
There was also lots of silliness which is kind of my favorite. I think this is one reason I like students so much.
In between the silliness, there was serious as well. Each student received a block of wood in which they wrote down a negative word they believed was true about themselves. By the end of the weekend, these blocks were burned in a bonfire. An appropriate thing to do with lies, don’t you think?
What fall retreat would be complete without a square dance? Not only were there cowboy hats, overalls, pigtails and freckles, we also had a genuine square dance caller guy. You know, the one who tells you exactly what to do: Go-to-the-middle-and-BOW. Now-face-your partner-do-si-do. Now bow to your CORner, not YOUR girl she’s the OTHER one. It was so awesome. And look who I got to dance with.
In my haste to capture this moment, I cut off his cowboy booted feet. Isn’t he lovely? Don’t you want to place the lives of your children in the capable hands of a youth pastor wearing a camouflage Waffle House shirt? Good times.
soaked and smiling
diving in
The Man has been in youth ministry for over seven years. During the first few, I was with him for nearly every ski trip, small group and sleepover. When the twins were born, it was time for me to shift my main focus from students to babies. But today, the high school students leave for their annual fall retreat. And guess who gets to go with them?
That’s right! Chatty Emily will be hopping on one of four buses carrying 170 students out of town for the weekend. I’m looking forward to the opportunity to get to know some of them better. I’m excited about leaving the little ones in the capable hands of my parents so I won’t have to worry. But I’m feeling old, y’all. I got an email last night with the minute by minute schedule for the weekend (I love an organized youth ministry). I read it slowly, picturing everything in my head, planning accordingly. It wasn’t until I noticed the amused look on the Man’s face that I realized I had been studying the schedule for…kind of a long time.
It was then that it hit me: motherhood has slowly sucked the spontaneity right out of my personality. I now have the need to plan, to know, to not be surprised. But anyone who works with teenagers, has teenagers or is a teenager knows that no amount of planning can insure a plan. Life simply doesn’t work that way. Especially not in youth ministry.
So I have my bag packed, my phone charged, my camera ready. I’m trying my best to take off my mom-to-three-preschool-students hat and put on my laid-back-friend-to-high-school-students hat. Most importantly, I’m beginning to release my illusion of control and to instead allow Jesus to live through me, love through me and maybe even surprise me.
confessions
Thanks to my twin skin and permanent muffin top, I have finally perfected the fine art of tucking my tummy into my jeans before I sit down. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, don’t ask questions. Bow your head. Thank the Lord. Say Amen. Don’t look back.)
This is me today, in jeans. Nearly falling off the child-sized chair I’m standing on because I don’t own a full length mirror. That is my shirtless son playing with the Polly pocket car that I just fished out of the toilet. Wonder how it got there? Anyway, I love these jeans because they are so comfortable. Wanna know why?
Because they are made for pregnant women. No, this is not my fun way of telling the world that I am pregnant. It is my fun way of telling the world that I’m a dork who is tired of fighting with jeans. I just want to be able to sit down without tucking. So today, I can. Hallelujah.
to be or not to be
Every cartoon should have two equally pretty, equally important, equally nice female characters. That way, my twin girls wouldn’t fight over who gets to be Madeleine or Cinderella.
As the theme song to Clifford began the other day, one of the twins declared “I’m Emily Elizabeth!” in a sing-song, victorious kind of way. Of course, the other twin began to pout and stomp her foot declaring, “You ALWAYS get to be her!”
What’s the big deal? I thought to myself. So I said, “You can both be Emily Elizabeth.” Wrong solution, Mommy. More drama. Much complaining. Ridiculous, thought I.
And then, it all came back to me.
It’s a school ni
ght in the mid-80′s. ABC’s Tuesday night lineup is only a few hours from airing: Who’s the Boss, Growing Pains and Moonlighting. All of a sudden, my sister blurts out the all-coveted phrase: “I’m Alyssa! I’m Maddie! I’m Carol!” And just like the rules of shot-gun, whoever called it, got it. I’m not sure why we called Alyssa Milano by her real name and the other two by their character names. Still, the phrase was important. The winner watched in victory, the loser destined to imagine herself as Mona or Maggie or worse, Miss DiPesto.
So maybe my girls aren’t so unreasonable after all. This memory helped me to empathize with their cause, their need to project themselves into the make-believe world of another. And their need to stand in the shoes of the heroine alone, without a measly sister sharing the spotlight.
I’m not saying it’s healthy. I’m just saying it’s true. So. Who did you want to be?
guess what I did yesterday?
I wasn’t a photographer at their wedding. Just a friend with her camera and a slightly annoying obsession with the bride. I’ve said it before: I just can’t resist taking photos at a wedding, even if I have to duck behind bushes so as not to annoy the real photographer.
That’s better. They’ve waited a long time for this day. He looks delightfully relieved.
Friends Forever
So you know how last week I did a post about touring a real, live TV show set? And you know how at the end I asked y’all if any of you had done the same? And you know how I specifically asked if anyone had been to a taping of Friends? Well, guess what? His Girl is totally my favorite person to be jealous of today because she has been to a taping and she’s talking all about it today on her blog. So if you miss the Friends or if you just want to discover a great blogger, head on over and check her out. You won’t be disappointed. Well, you might, seeing as how you can’t get tickets to see a live taping because they haven’t taped this show in four years. But hearing stories like this helps us keep the Friends alive forever! Could I BE any more cheesy? I think not.
poor Nuby
Now that I’ve thrown out all my sippy cups, some of you sent me a helpful link to discern which Nuby cups are BPA free and which are not. It’s too late for me, but save yourselves, people. This site has photos so you don’t have to know the difference between standard, non-drip, tinted feeding system and the no spill gripper cup. Just look at the photos and see if they match what is in your cabinet.
Our poor Nubys. Turns out they were innocent afterall. Now I feel guilty for being all blamey towards them. Oh well. We did get the BPA free Nalgenes, though. A nice upgrade. That’s what I get for watching the news from the treadmill. Can’t get my Nubys straight.
