Have Faith in Your Dreams and Someday...

Sixteen or so years ago, I helped my mother with the preschool class at our church.  It was in there that I met a little girl named Paige.  Over the years, our paths have crossed many times.  For four of Paige's last five years in school, I was her teacher.  I've always been her friend (even with the thirteen year difference).  And more than once, Paige has referred to my husband and her as her second family.  For that reason, we often call her our "pretend daughter," and my girls see her as a big sister (who they affectionately call Hobbit).

We're a lot alike; both huge Disney fans, and Harry Potter fans.  We love to spend our time reading, and are just as comfortable in a big crowd as all alone in a quiet room.  We laugh at the same jokes, have many of the same friends, and have seen our lives (although hers much shorter, so far) play out much the same way. 

A couple of years ago, it was Paige's senior year of high school.  Her parents had homeschooled her prior to sending her back to where I taught, so her class schedule wasn't the same as her peers.  It turned out that she had a free period when I had my planning period.  We spent the majority of that time talking, often about the future, and Paige would tell me how she dreamed of joining the Disney College Program and moving to Orlando. 

But that's just the backstory.

About a year ago, the opportunity to apply for the DCP came up, and though she was nervous, and called me multiple times a day to worry over it, Paige applied.  The first application was quick and painless, and Paige was soon through to the bigger application.  She worried that she would answer incorrectly, and somehow hinder her abilities to go, but it was all for naught, as her answer came more quickly than others, and soon she was scheduling her phone interview. 

Now, if you've ever met Paige, you'd understand why I wasn't worried one bit for her.  She lives and breathes Disney.  She is goofy, a little dopey, rarely grumpy, and happy as all get out.  She has never had a problem talking to people, and she exudes everything that I've come to recognize as the things that make Disney cast members great at their job.  But Paige was so worried it was almost comical.  She'd call me daily, ask people for advice (which was a good idea), set up fake interviews, and so forth.  She couldn't let it get this far and not get the job.  Of course, I'm sure the other seventy-or-so-thousand people felt the same way when they applied.

Well, wouldn't you know it, she passed the interview. 

And that's where Paige and I are different.  You see, I once thought about entering the DCP myself, many years ago, when I was in college.  However, I just couldn't bring myself to move that far away with no one I knew (ironic, as I knew no one on campus when I moved to UTK, either).  Paige, as much of a home body as she is, didn't let that stand in the way of her dreams.  She knew, back in high school, that Disney was a goal of hers, and she did what it took to get there (or at least, she'll be there in a matter of days). 

Paige will be fine there; she makes friends easily, and will be in a place she loves.  I'm sure not all her days will be amazing, but she'll just hop over to the Wizarding World, and life will be fine again.  (I'm only somewhat joking).  She's got a great group of supporters here at home, too.  I'm sure she has some of the fears that I had years ago; she just hasn't let that stop her. 

What dreams do you have?  If a little girl from "Hick Town" can move to Disney, and possibly be Wendy one day, then you can follow your dreams, too.  Have faith in them, someday they'll come true. 

Paige, second star to the right, and straight on till morning.  Meet you on Main Street in June.

Marriage Advice... to Myself

As I've mentioned, I often write notes and stick them places.  And sometimes, I forget where I've put them.  This morning, I was cleaning out my sock drawer (No, I'm not one of those moms, I just got new socks for Christmas, and could finally throw away the ones with no elastic left), and found an envelope addressed to me.  As I picked it up, and saw that it was my own handwriting, I remembered having placed it there some time ago, but couldn't remember why.  Naturally, I opened it and read it.

 

"Right now, life is good.  You've got a husband who loves you and your first child on the way.  But things won't always be this wonderful, and that's the reason for this letter.  There will be trials; there have been already.  But God says, 'Do not dwell on the past; Forget the former things.  See, I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?  I am making a way in the dessert and streams in the wasteland.'  (Is 43:18-19)  So when things come, don't bring up the past.  Just because someone lies once, don't write them off as a liar.  Forgive and forget. 

There will also be fights between you and your husband.  Passion doesn't always exist in only one form.  Just remember this:  No one wins by walking away.  You're bringing a life into this world.  Don't let an argument split your family.  Being right isn't that important.  You never want your biggest regret to be that you didn't do all you could to keep your husband. 

Love him.  Love God.  Allow all else to go by the wayside.  If it hurts God, or if it hurts him, it's isn't worth it.  Let nothing ever come between you.  When God comes between you, he's just trying to glue you back together.  Allow him to.

Pray daily for your husband.  It's impossible to stay mad at one you're praying for.

Believe him.  Take his word for it.  Respect him, in public and private.  Do whatever it takes to stay together, to keep him!"

 

 

I do not recall what brought this letter about.  Or why I thought it so important to hide it in my drawer, but it's amazing how well I knew exactly what I'd need to hear in the future.  I  am the one that always has to be right.  Now, my husband will argue a blue streak to be right, but he's also the first to apologize, always.  I may quit arguing, but I'm still steaming hours later, knowing "I'm right."  I also know that I'm not the quickest to trust people.  I don't always give the benefit of the doubt.  And I definitely know how long I can hold on to the "mad." 

 

This letter was written five and a half years ago, and boy, have we had some rough spots in those years.  But God has always been our glue, and often used some crazy circumstances to get that glue in there.  Right now, life is good.  In fact, after eight and a half years, we know exactly which buttons to push, and when to stop pushing them.  We've seen what we thought was the end, and decided together to turn around and walk back. 

 

Two years ago, we saw the roughest spot we've seen yet, that "end" we thought we were at, and we were given some advice.  I'll give it to you, and you can take it for what you will.  I don't dare give anyone marriage advice; I'll leave that to people like my parents, who've been married 37 years longer than us.  But it didn't come from me, and it's worth sharing. 

 

"Remember what you did to make your spouse fall in love with you so many years ago, and make sure you do that... every single day."  -Terry Forrest

 

 





You'll Thank Yourself Later

Many years ago, my motto became "take pictures and write things down."  If you know me at all, you know I take lots of pictures.  Now some people think "lots" means, you go on vacation and come back with two hundred pictures from your week-long trip.  That might be okay, but for me, that'd be an overnight trip.  In fact, we just returned from five days at Walt Disney World, and I haven't sat down to count, but we have close to one thousand pictures from our trip. 

My Facebook posts fill my friends' newsfeeds, as I post ten or so pictures a week, and ninety-nine percent of them are of my kids.  I had to go buy an external hard drive, because I crashed our computer from saving all the pictures.  I have to download my iPhone monthly, because it doesn't have enough memory to handle all my pictures. 

I also write a lot.  I recently printed every post I'd ever made to Facebook, as I want to save all the posts that have specifically been about my children.  I tuck memories away on scraps of paper, write twenty page trip reports from five days at Disney, make scrapbooks with detailed captions, and so forth.  I have a book that is one big list of reasons I love my husband.  I spend time writing my feelings at any given time.

"I'm holding [my baby's] hand and I can't let go because, soon enough, she'll be letting go to blaze through the doors of kindergarten. Soon enough, she'll be in high school, holding some boy's hand...and then walking down the aisle to meet him... squeezing it as she bears his children. Soon enough, she'll be holding the hand of her own baby girl." -2008, just after the birth of my first

 

 So what's the point?

 

Many of my friends have often commented that I have an amazing memory.  I can remember tiny tidbits of information that do no one any good other than to be trivial; things like what we discussed during high school graduation (not the commencement address, but what we were having for dinner that night), or that my oldest daughter couldn't say "K" when she was younger (meaning her favorite animal at the zoo was dubbed a "tom'ere titty" instead of a merekat), or that one of my college friends can't eat pork because it turns her lips blue (although we tried and tried to get her to show us once). 

 

The point is, I can remember all those things because my pictures and my little notes jog my memory.  They keep that moment alive in my mind.  I couldn't tell you the date of D-day or more than the first line of the Gettysburg address.  I couldn't care less about trigonometry, even though I took biocalculus in college.  And I've gotten lost in the city where I grew up more than once.  But I can tell you that my best friend loves orange juice but it doesn't love her.  I can tell you that my husband caught a fawn and held it for me to pet on one of our first dates.  I can tell you that my friend in HS called the school's beans "Jabba eggs," (crazy Star Wars fans).  I remember distinctly what my first ride ever was at Walt Disney World, and how exactly they make their bangers and mash at the Rose and Crown.  I'll never forget just how many outfits my daughters were gifted when born, because I have a picture of them in almost every one. 

 

It'll work for you, too.  Life is made up of moments, and a photo catches just one second of one moment of your entire life, but it'll remind you of much more.  A journal might be hard to keep up with, but a little note will bring back emotions and smells and make your memories 3D. 

 

 

So make it a goal to take a picture a day this year.  Write down when your kid makes you laugh or cry.  Keep a journal when you go on vacation.  Jot down when your spouse does something for you for no reason at all.  Make those memories last.  When you're older, you won't have to try so hard to recall your child's first word, or why exactly you agreed to date your spouse after all, or that "Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally" is the sentence you learned for order of operations... even if you don't actually remember how to do the math. 

 

I promise; you'll thank yourself later.