Above and Beyond Grandparents

There's an older single man who frequently sits in the same pew as me at church. He and his wife started going to the church years but his wife has since passed away. Now just John goes. He rarely misses a chance to talk to me. He's probably pushing 80 (maybe older but he has no wrinkles and is incredibly mobile) but he loves to chat about his little projects: his garden, his woodworking, his kids, his grandkids. He told me today he is going to be a great-grandpa and he's so excited. I told him what a privilege it will be to be a great-grandparent. I told him I knew four of my great-grandparents and cherished the relationship with one grandma in particular.

~~~~~

A few weeks ago my phone buzzed and a reminder lit up the screen. "Call Gram." It was January 9th, her birthday. The catch is this is the second birthday she hasn't been around. She died in 2016 but I hadn't gotten around to deleting the reminder. I rarely missed calling her on her birthday and being that she lived in the same town as me (and was a block away neighbor for 5 years) I often physically visited her for the occasion too. One January I was in England for the month so I made sure to call her before I left. I was not about to let a trip halfway across the world get in the way of telling her happy birthday.

Grandma Evy was always special to me: she used to babysit my brother and I when we were younger. Our parents would go out for the evening or have a school function that we did not attend and Grandma Evy was the go-to option. Grandma loved babysitting. She knew when all the parties were at the country club and would call to offer her services for an evening and inquire about my parents' attendance. For five years we were essentially neighbors: we could see what channel she was watching on her TV. She used to walk to our house and carry her cordless phone in her pocket and still get reception at our house.  She let us play fun handheld gambling games at her apartment; she had the coolest set of scarves and hankies and handbags around. I was envious of the collection. She made us chocolate pudding each time we came over, complete with whip cream on top. I had my own special pink tea cup I used at her house. She set up her card table in the living room with our coloring books and crayons (and on off chance she got busy and we had to get our own stuff out, the crayons were in the medicine cabinet at eye level). Every birthday card she sent had your age in quotation marks and it made us smile. She was incredibly self-conscious of her hair (god forbid we see it messy) and never left home without her rain bonnet if there was even the slightest chance of a sprinkle.

She was nothing short of quirky too. She and her brother lived in the same apartment complex and each had a subscription to a newspaper; they would meet midday and swap papers in the apartment parking lot so that neither one had to buy both. She was an avid soap opera watcher and would call her sisters to get their takes on the events of the episode. She always claimed she wanted to be cremated because she was claustrophobic and didn't "want to be trapped in that box." Truth be told I don't think she wanted to relinquish control of her hair to a stranger without providing input. She never learned to drive so we often joked about putting her in drivers education in her 80s. She never lied and was a quiet little thing. She was never much for a full smile but always had a pleasant smirk on her face. In my eyes she was special and did everything flawlessly.

During all her years of babysitting us in her 80s my parents had to prep us in case she died while she was "on the clock." There was a whole plan of what my brother and I each had do, complete with dialing 911 and getting a neighbor. In hindsight, we had nothing to worry about because we were both in college when she died. I always wanted to submit her picture to be on the Smucker's celebration on the Today Show. Alas, she was a handful of months short of it.  She was the cutest little old lady I ever knew.

~~~~~

Great-grandparents are extra special. Grandparents are fun but there is something especially cool about hanging out with the oldest person you know with whom you magically share DNA. These people know so much more about life and your family; they know all the family secrets and memories. Cherish whatever ancestors you have in your life. I wish John good luck with his new endeavor and all future great-grandparents-those relationships are irreplaceable.

What I'm Going to Do

With Christmas fast approaching I know the New Year will be here before we know it. Rather than wait until the last minute to declare some goals for 2018. So here's what I'm going to do. Or at least attempt to do. It doesn't make much sense to keep these goals to myself. People need to keep me accountable and once they are out in the open people can ask me about them. I haven't fleshed these goals out for all of you but trust me, they are more elaborate on the sheet of paper I wrote them on. I will hang it on desk as a constant reminder of what I am going to do. I encourage others to make their own list of goals for the new year. Being a young adult is tough; too much time is spent in this floaty land of uncertainty. Some times things feel out of control and you don't know exactly where you are headed. Put some concrete ideas/tasks/projects in place to create a path of guidance for the coming months.

Bre's Goals for 2018 (as of December 11, 2017 and in no particular order)

1. Learn to cook with spices and herbs

2. Run a half marathon

3. Get married

4. Read 36 books total

5. Build a library in the basement

6. Completely housetrain Dunkel

7. Find a job I love

8. Join a gym

9. Make more friends

10. Remodel my kitchen

11. Use my phone less

12. Launch a financially profitable blog

13. Take more pictures (not on my phone, but with my camera)

14. Journal 4-5 days a week

15. More dance parties

Scheduling a Meltdown

A few years ago I was a freshman in college. Life is kinda scary as you finish freshman year: you begin to realize how fast time (mostly college) goes, how little you have figured out in your life, and much you need to get done in the next 3ish years. I remember sitting in my first psychology class, discussing mental health and being very worked up about everything in my life. I planned to go home that night and I wanted ice cream from a local shop. I was going to have a meltdown and then go have ice cream. I told my friend Hannah in the class, "I'm going to go home tonight and have a meltdown and then I'm going to Whippy Dip to make myself feel better." The mental health nut in me now realizes that sounds like a disordered eating issue that I can eat my feelings. I still do that sometimes. Ice cream to celebrate, ice cream after a funeral, whatever.

For the record, I went home that night back in college, had my meltdown, got my ice cream, and went on with my life. It was a therapeutic event. It solved my problems that day. I had a scheduled a meltdown in my life and carried through on it. The ice cream was my coping mechanism. I had found a way to feel better. Sure, it was not a calorically good choice, but it was a temporary band aid. In the grand scheme of life, the meltdown wasn't over anything big. To tell you insignificant it was, I don't even remember why I was scheduling a meltdown in my life anyway. True meltdowns happen. And we can't control them. Sometimes I can tell a meltdown is coming and I induce it just to get it over with. I watch Cristina Yang's last scene from "Greys Anatomy" and I cry every time. I cry it out/dance it out and I feel better. I had found another coping mechanism. My coping mechanisms don't work anymore. I need new ones because these don't provide for me what they used to.

And that brings us to my current life. I'm working through a rough patch. My employment is not what I want it to be and honestly, most days feel like a failure. I am constantly tired and feeling dejected. Not enough to warrant a trip to a psychologist or therapist but I have a very real awareness of my lack of happiness. I have cried more in the last year than in my entire life and much more often than I would care to publicly admit. The worst part is you can't schedule a meltdown. Ever. They have a tendency to just happen and usually at an inopportune time. I used to have a series of disappointing meetings on Mondays that resulted in a cry fest on my couch every Monday night. It happened to work out that my fiancé was out of town every week I had one too. I would sit at home with no one to talk to and it left me too much time to think and wallow. It was weekly self destruction as my dog and I sat there trying to forget the world as we watched "The Bachelorette." My job was stressful: I wasn't eating and I wasn't sleeping. I lived this way for more than month. At some point I accepted that this job was not going to work for me. I was running ragged making phone calls and sending emails and attending events. The catch was I wasn't happy and I didn't know how to fix it. And had no income because I work on commission so I was also constantly worried about my finances. I was mad and sad and angry and disappointed and ungrateful and upset. All at once and all the time.

I was (and some days still am) on the verge of what felt like an emotional breakdown nearly every hour. The worst part was most people didn't know. I walked around like a glass doll, fearful of someone knocking me off my poised position on the shelf. I was cautious and withdrawn and uncertain. I thought if I just kept quiet about my struggles I could protect myself from the impending hurt. If I stayed put on my shelf, my glass face couldn't be broken. It would stay painted and intact. I felt perched on a branch, watching my own life unfold before me and fold in itself everyday. It was and still is heartbreaking. Having a daily meltdown didn't solve my problem; neither did ice cream or dancing.

I am at the point of emotional exhaustion. I'm trapped in my own life with little certainty of what to do next. My former stress relievers of choice might work if I had a different mindset. I will revisit them at a later date when my mental emotional health is in a better place. My mental health is in shambles. The moral of the story is you can't schedule everything in life. I just made a to do list for the next few days leading up to Thanksgiving to make sure I get everything done. I got to the point I knew a meltdown would happen every day but it was too depressing to acknowledge it and put it on my daily to do list. The small optimist in me hoped it wouldn't happen every day so by not putting it down, I wasn't going to let it take over my hour or evening or week. But you can't schedule a meltdown. They just happen.

Last Lasts

My brother plays his last home football game this weekend. His final game ever is next Saturday. I had hoped to make it to one of them but the way schedules work out I just couldn't swing it. So naturally I thought I would blog about it. Not about missing the game, but about the last time you do things for the last time.

Many college athletes have already experienced their last competition in high school; some knew they were going to continue playing the sport in college and the "last game" wasn't really the last game. Seventeen and eighteen year olds move on from their final games much easier because the prospects of leaving home for college or work create more excitement; they bounce back by being young and dumb. There's something special about college athletes, particularly at the division III level. Their college athletics career is driven by something other than money. They do not get a free college education for their skills and abilities. Division III athletes play sports in college for a love of the game and competition. Nothing else compares to the love of an athlete and his or her sport. 

I was in the same position as my brother a few years ago. I was completing my last year of college, on the verge of full fledged adulthood, but also nervous for the real world. I was doing many college things for the fourth and final time and I had mixed feelings: excitement, sorrow, happiness, disappointment. I spent ten years running track. I think of all the workouts that tried to kill me and the long runs where I discovered my best friends. Looking back on my college experience, all my best friends and favorite memories come back to people on the track team, not necessarily the meets or individual races. And we will always be part of that team even though we graduated. The coolest part about being a runner is you are branded a runner for life. Heck, after college you can even go out and win money for races. It's great. As long as you have working legs and a desire to run you're a runner. Even after your legs stop working, you will always be a runner because the label never leaves.

But here's the kicker about football (<-- best pun I've written in a while, thank you): your final game is the very last time you will suit up and play. Very few people make it to the NFL but the vast majority of college football players are done playing at 21, 22, or 23. I can't imagine trying to get 22 friends together, plus the equipment and space to play a full game at age 30. The injuries would be tremendous! Everyone that played in the game wouldn't be able to walk for a week after the game because of pulled muscles and trying to prove they "still got it," what "it" is: speed, strength, stamina, endurance. You end up jumping at the chance to play a flag football game, even though it is a poor substitute for the real thing--you are so desperate to get back into the game. But it's ok. It's human nature to gravitate towards the things we love. Go play in the first flag football game you can and every one after that.

There are a few perks to being done with a sport. You have your life back during the season you used to compete. I was at a loss of what to do with all my free time the first spring I wasn't running. I was accustomed to hours of practice followed by hours of studying in the library after. With no after work commitments I thoroughly enjoyed the spring weather. And my legs didn't hurt; I had not idea what it was like to wake up everyday in March and April and not have to give my shins a pep talk because of perpetual shin splints. You too will wake up mostly pain free when your sport ceases. During football season you will have the opportunity to watch every college and professional game available. Do it. Watch them all. Because you can and because you earned it. You sacrificed 4 or 5 years of summer into fall Saturdays not watching your favorite teams. You only saw the highlights and heard the synopsis from your classmates after the fact. Lay on your couch for 24 hours and enjoy the freedom. It will make you miss the game more. You might be a little lost and heartbroken but you will heal. We all do.

~~~~~

Good luck. With everything. With every last last. You will relish in some final lasts: your last class, your last caf meal, your last paper, your last reading. And others will cause some anguish: your last concert, your last workout, your last group meeting, your last practice, your last game. The last time you hang out with your friends as students and not as alums. Trust me, that one is scary. But you'll be ok. Life is glorious and you're just getting started. Thirty or forty years from now you might not remember every game or even the big plays of major upsets. You will remember the people who were there and celebrated with you, win or lose. These were likely the first friends you made in college. The ones that taught you how to do laundry and how to hack a microwave meal. They remember your college experience almost as well as you do and maybe for some nights, better than you do. They were an integral part of your college experience. Cherish it all. Every final hoorah is worth celebrating. So do it. Enjoy all your last lasts.

Kevin's Big Adventure

Today was big day for Kevin. I knew a week ago that he would be getting a book to take home today. He found out in the classroom at 12:45pm and by 12:50pm he was the proud new owner of a book. If you have been following my blog you know a little bit about Kevin. He's a 7 year old boy in the second grade. This is the first book he himself has ever owned; the first book his house owns. I hope he reads it to the point he memorizes it. This was huge. He was so proud of his new book he asked me, "Can you take my picture with my book, Miss Bre?" Of course, Kevin. Of course. He was still concerned the book would go to his classroom or be put on the cart of books available to us through the program. Nope. This book is all for you kid. He said it was his favorite book ever. I asked if he had read it before and he said no but he already knew he would love it. That's the power of reading, learning, and education. Don't ever doubt your impact on others.

A brief update on his reading skills. It astounds me how much progress we have made in a month of reading together, once a week, for 30 minutes a day. We start each day with me reading to him while he eats his lunch (have you ever watched a 7 year old multi-task? It doesn't work. At all.) and eventually move to us each reading every other page. Some days, when Kevin feels bossy or is really interested in the book, he reads it all to me. Sure there are words he struggles with but for the most part he can sound them out. I provide a little help here and there. Today we talked about the different sounds the letter G makes (the word suggest was confusing for him). Sometimes it is 'ja' like giraffe or 'ga' like game. We came across the word "through" and he asked why there was a G in that word because he couldn't hear it when he said it. Touché, Kevin, because I don't know. 

We read a few Halloween and fall themed books today and he breezed through them. He was explaining Beggar's Night to me (it's a Des Moines thing). I told him I didn't know what it was because I wasn't from Des Moines. He then proceeded to ask me about where I grew up so naturally I drew map of Iowa to show him. Then I drew the surrounding states. He asked about Florida and Arizona; at that point I pulled up a map on my phone because my art skills are quite lacking so showing him was much easier. I also couldn't draw the whole United States from memory. We talked about different states and where they are in relation to each other. Then he asked about Africa and China and Antarctica and I found a world map that showed everything. He claimed he is going to visit everywhere on Earth. I said go for it and good luck. He seemed pretty determined to see the whole world. 

He gets 3 more books this year but he doesn't know that yet. I want them to be a surprise; I hope he is as excited for the next 3 as he was for the first one. In the movie "The Blindside" Sandra Bullock meets with a few of her friends and they are talking about the young man she has taken into her home. The quote goes, "'You're changing that boy's life.' 'No, he's changing mine.'" That's Kevin. I've taken reading and books for granted my whole and Kevin puts just enough perspective into my life to keep me humble. He's changing my life and I didn't even know it needed changing.

Kevin posing with his first book.

Priding Moments

I was recently asked what accomplishment in my life I was most proud of. I thought for a moment and provided a legitimate answer. And then I got to thinking, what other things am I proud of in my life? I'm only 24 but I have done enough in my life at this point but I wanted a definitive list. So here they are, in some semblance of an order but this could be subject to change. (Update: this list changed 8 times while I was writing and elaborating on each statement.)

1. Passing the securities exams I took this summer to become a financial advisor. These tests are a kick in the pants. Don't let anyone tell you differently. I spent countless hours this summer studying for these tests and was thoroughly convinced I was going to fail them. I was so convinced in fact that I was job searching the night before each test because I was sure I would not be able to continue down this path. Alas I passed and here I am.

2. Running a lifetime PR in my last 4x400 experience. I ran track for 10 years. Nothing is greater in track than a lifetime PR. I went out and ran that race with no goals or intentions. It was the last meet with all my teammates before the conference meet. It was the Wartburg Dual and I had nothing to lose. I chased some girl down and crushed it. Never mind the fact my last race the following week was not as good but the PR race meant more to me because of the people I ran with. It was four years of friendship that race all jammed into a 4 minute race.

3. Raising a puppy. Anyone that says having a dog isn't like having a real child is lying. A year and a half ago we got a puppy (<3 Little P). It is amazing how helpless she started and how much she can do now. Every skill she has we taught her. At the same time every skill she does not have is our fault. She is far from perfect (sorry to all the people she takes a running leap at and hits you right in the midsection...It's only people she vaguely recognizes). She's a work in progress but I never thought we could get her to the point of free reign of the house while we're at work based on how the first week went. I have no idea how we potty trained her. She used to take a 3 hour nap after walking from her potty spot to the garbage center at the apartment and now we can walk an hour and she's hardly tired.

4. Picking out a wine cork with a tweezers in France because I didn't have a wine opener. I went abroad for a month during my sophomore year of college. We went to a grocery store in France and I bought a bottle of wine. Being the inexperienced wine drinker I was (because I was only 20 in the US which doesn't allow me to buy alcohol) I did not think to look for a screw top cap. I bought a bottle with a wine cork. I was determined to open the damn bottle myself. I sat on the floor on my hotel room in France with my tweezers for a half an hour picked out the cork piece by piece. Naturally I had to drink the whole bottle in one night because the cork was destroyed. I think it is an excellent testament to my patience and creativity.

5. Successful photography career at Luther. My first photos at Luther weren't great. I can't even remember the first ones but I know they were not up to the standard I wanted to produce. By my senior year I was in a wonderful place with my photography: I knew my camera inside and out and could manipulate it in the dark. I knew it well enough to teach others how to use it. The image I am most proud of specifically is still used widely in college mailings and advertisements. I got up at 4:30am to photograph the Martin Luther statue on campus at sunrise (fun fact: trees block the sun from touching the statue until well after sunrise hours). In order for the morning to not be a complete bust I wandered around snapping pictures of other campus attractions. The bell at sunrise with not a soul around and dew glistening on the grass is my favorite photo of all time.

6. Starting a blog. This blog started as a small undertaking and a free hobby during a time when I didn't have a ton of funds. I had no idea how many people would read it, enjoy it, and appreciate it. Thanks, fan club!

7. Learning how to cook. I left college with very few cooking skills and have managed to develop some recipes I am proud of. I am even at the point I can offer minor cooking advice to others. This winter my brother is going to live with me for a two months and I am going to teach him all I know about cooking. Not that my knowledge is vast but I can offer great advice for beginners.

8. Planting and growing a garden. One time in the 10th grade I wrote my autobiography (the entire class did, this wasn't just a me thing). We had to list out goals (5 years, 10 years, 15 years, and general). I put grow a vegetable garden on my general goal list. Low and behold I planted a tomato and squash garden earlier this summer. I was up to my eyeballs in tomatoes and the squash was pretty tasty. I did not anticipate my level of success but I learned a lot about small scale agriculture and now have a group of garden ladies at church that provide free advice for growing a successful garden.

9. Running a half marathon. I ran my half marathon back in 2014. I trained pretty religiously for this. Around mile 8 of the race I was content to quit. I tried to find a pothole midcourse and try to roll an ankle to end the misery. There were ample choices on an old stretch of interstate in the Twin Cities but alas I kept running. I finished. I laid on the ground after and cried. A nice man handed me a medal and congratulated me. He then informed me I was in the way and needed to move. Except I couldn't so I kept laying there until my family came to get me.

10. Prime execution of my 90s mom Halloween costume senior year of college. My roommate Jesse and I were unsure of what to be for Halloween. Naturally we went to Goodwill in town and scoped out the secondhand clothes options. We stumbled upon turtlenecks and jumpers. Add in our tacky jewelry and big glasses and we looked just like our own moms shortly before we were born. We got many compliments. We underestimated how hot our costumes would be at the bar and how drenched in sweat our outfits would be (note: don't wear a turtleneck to the bar. Just don't.). The morning after our adventure out I picked up my turtleneck and it was skill soaked. I nearly threw up it was that bad. But nonetheless we had the perfect costumes.

There you have it. My top ten priding accomplishments. Maybe you skimmed over them, maybe you read them all, maybe you were there to witness them. Thank you. Sometimes I get bogged down with all the stress and negativity in my day to day in my life that I forget to be thankful for all the opportunities on my journey and all the people that helped me get there.

Burn Baby Burn

The other day I asked my best friend for a blog topic because I short on ideas. She mentioned job burnout. This is a topic that has been studied quite extensively in the psychology field so I have heard my fair share about it. Certain occupations are more prone to burnout than others (teaching and nursing are just a few examples) but no occupation is completely exempt. I'm relatively new to my own job and haven't felt burnout quite yet.

But here's the catch: we could all use a day off. I am by no means overworked but my work brain is always on. I have dreams about emails and phone calls I need to make in the following days. Emails pop up on my computer in the bottom right hand corner of the computer screen. Weirdly enough, that's the exact location of where the email notifications show up in my dreams too. I have nightmare-esque dreams where insurance illustrations come to life and the numbers attack (think mutant contagious virus except with thousands of dollars). Unsurprisingly I am not sleeping well either.

I'm blessed with a flexible schedule and when a bout of the stomach bug hit yesterday morning I was able to stay home and not do much. It was great: I briefly checked my email at 10:30am when I finally left the couch and then didn't touch my computer the rest of the day. My day off was great. Sure I have weekends where I am not formally working but I usually have my eyes and ears open to look for potential clients: at the dog park, at church, shopping around town. I'm always on. Yesterday, there were no expectations. The morning was spent stuck on the couch feeling less than stellar. But the early afternoon was full of efficiency: I washed all my rugs, swept the floors and washed them, made a trip to the grocery store and bought supplies to make a tie blanket. I was mentally turned off. These were all things I wanted to get done this week but doing them at my leisure instead of in hurried frenzy before my parents come to town Saturday made me feel much more at ease. I had no desire to see if anyone emailed me. My phone was with me all day so I know that no one called me. The separation was refreshing and rejuvenating. The disconnect brought me a renewed set of energy.

Burnout is not some myth: I see it in people all the time. I worry about young people in particular. We carry more debt (student loans) than any generation before but aren't making that much more money for a starting income than previous generations. I know of recent grads working two or three jobs to afford the lifestyle they would like. Except they don't have the free time to spend the money they have earned. On the flip side there are other grads working their butts off putting in 60+ hours a week making minimum wage; or worse, they are salaried low and the expectation is for them to do it all and work all the hours possible. It's a vicious cycle of work and free time and money available. There often feels like no end is in sight.

You were designed to have breaks in your schedule. You need recharge time. I don't know how many people I know that don't use their vacation time to their advantage; they are also the first complain about feeling overwhelmed and overworked. Use the time you are granted and take that PTO. I am not advocating for people to call in every time they feel even the slightest bit not okay but take a mental health day here and there for your own sanity.