[Best of Year One] offense.

[originally published on April 4, 2012]


I have worked in Christian Higher Education for six years now. Admissions, specifically. Sometimes my job feels a bit dreary - like I'm just leaving robotic voicemails, explaining the same things over and over again, selling the school like it's a really nice used car. 

Today I spoke with the grandmother of a prospective student. Here was our conversation:

Grandma: "She wants to major in English, but I'm wondering if there are any jobs out there for people who major in English."
Me: "Well, I majored in English!"
Grandma: "Yes, but you have to work at the school. She wants to change the world."

Grandma - 1, My ego - 0.

Sometimes I feel like her implication is correct - I'm not changing the world. I'm sitting at a desk making calls. But when I really stop and think about what I do, I honestly feel great about it. Regent offers an excellent education and, for the most part, an awesome community. I am helping students achieve academic goals. I'm a resource for students who are making a life changing decision. And fairly often, I'm a listening ear for people who aren't ready for college yet but needed to share their story with someone - I've heard about troubles with other schools, divorce, lost family members, issues with churches, unexpected unemployment, the passing of kidney stones. I've had one person say that they saw an ad for our school on TV and they literally thought the person in the ad was talking to them and that's why they were calling. Even then, I'm nice, people. I'm freaking nice. For example, I wanted to tell that grandmother that her words were rude and hurtful, that I'm helping people like her granddaughter, that I'm contributing to putting my husband through grad school, that I'm in a job that's allowing me to be present with my daughter in her first year. My gut reaction was to try to make her feel as bad as she just made me feel, and with the aid of some colorful language. But instead:


Me: "Oh, I don't have to work here. I choose to!" (Pleasant chuckle.) "Do you have any other questions at this point?"


Are you living with purpose in your job? Can you see why God has you there? Has someone's Grandma tried to put you down recently? Do tell.

Part of my purpose.

[Best of Year One] anything once: being asked if you're having twins

I have been asked three times now if I'm sure I'm not having twins. I realize these people are trying to be funny. They are not funny.


Ways I wish I could respond:
1. "I'm sure. But hey, are YOU having twins?"
2. "You realize that you're basically calling me fat, right? That doesn't seem very nice, does it?" 
3. "Oh, gosh. Maybe. I'm really not sure at this point. I mean, I've been to the doctor approximately 80,000 times now, and they haven't said anything yet, but I haven't really asked."
4. Bursting into tears. (Not because the comment actually makes me want to cry, but because I think it'd be entertaining to freak the person out.)
5. Kicking them in the shins. (Okay, I don't really want to do this. It would hurt my toes.)


Way I do respond:
1. Courtesy laugh. "Gosh, I hope not." Courtesy chuckle. Roll my eyes when they go away.

Jeff is also not having twins.

A lady in my office said today that the only good thing to say to a pregnant woman is "You look good." I said that the best thing to say to a pregnant woman is "Hello." You know, like she's still a normal person or something. But this is just one Lobster's opinion.

[Best of Year One] and now it's time for another good idea, bad idea.

[Originally posted: Wednesday, March 28, 2012]

I've realized recently that maybe we're not always the most conventionally good parents in the world. Evidence!


Good idea: Letting baby chew on an appropriate baby toy, like Sophia the Giraffe from Babies R Us.
Bad idea: Letting baby chew on an appropriate dog toy, like a giant red rubber bone.

We do take it away as quickly as possible,
but this child has a future in ninjary.

Good idea: Using the stroller or car seat for storage when shopping.
Bad idea: Using the stroller or car seat for storage when shopping for wine. 

She's never been soused. So that's a point for us, right?

Good idea: Inviting baby to a party.
Bad idea: Keeping baby at a party well past her bedtime.

Come on, though. How freaking cute.

Good idea: Kissing baby sweetly on the cheek.
Bad idea: Trying to eat the baby. 

Yum.

Good idea: Bringing baby along to a busy restaurant.
Bad idea: Spinning baby around on the giant Lazy Susan on the table at a busy restaurant.




The good news is that Miss Eiley is fiercely loved. And it seems like that can make all those bad ideas still pretty okay. 


Except eating her. I never condone eating babies.

[Best of Year One] Three Years Ago Today

[Originally posted: Tuesday, June 7, 2011]

Three years ago today, I woke up on my sister’s plush green couch and watched Dan in Real Life while enjoying donut holes and orange juice. I went to Happy Nails with some of my favorite friends and had a manicure and pedicure. I ate at Rubio’s for lunch – chicken taquitos, chips, a churro, a big Diet Coke. Delicious.

Three years ago today, I relaxed for a few hours in the nursery of my childhood church. I had my hair done and actually liked how it turned out, and I put on the biggest, whitest dress of my life. Various vital women came and went, providing joy and comfort with their brief visits.

Three years ago today, I stood in the back of the church feeling a little bit nervous, clutching Daddy’s arm. Friends gathered around me and prayed for my future. My boss snuck in late and whispered “hello” and I whispered “you’re fired” and we chuckled and I felt less nervous. My best guy friend told me “this is your moment” and smiled at me before opening the doors to the church.

Photo: Christine Lee Smith
www.clsphotography.com

Three years ago today, I walked down the aisle with a smile pasted to my face while the man I love smiled back and cried. A lot. We remembered Jesus and His example of perfect love with an animal cracker and juice communion. We promised forever, and we meant it, and we immediately told the world about our promise on Facebook.

Three years ago today, we threw the best party I’ve ever attended. We had In-n-Out, a photo booth, a jazz band, colorful homemade desserts, and dancing, dancing, dancing. We dressed up a homely courtyard, filling it with strings of light and people we love. And it was all perfect because I was with my husband, who I love even more today than I did three years ago.

Photo: Christine Lee Smith
www.clsphotography.com

Happy anniversary, Jeffrey Michael!

[Best of Year One] Movie Review Monday #17: Newsies

[Originally Posted on: Monday, September 12, 2011]

Dear Newsies,


A couple months ago, I wrote a top ten list of my favorite films. I somehow forgot to include you in this list, and for that I am truly sorry. How could I forget a film that has been so good to me? A film that has an embarrassing dance solo by Christian Bale and humiliating open-armed singing by Bill Pullman. A film in which Doogie Howser's BFF tap dances on tables with one of the Mighty Duck's Bash Brothers and the guy from Big goes from nerd to hero in an hour flat. 


I remember the first time we met. I was nine years old, and my family went to the Westminster 10 movie theater. They handed out fake newspapers that had everything from behind the scenes tidbits to an article teaching one of the dances from the film. My cousins and I mocked the newspaper, but then sat down to watch you. And I was hooked. You were filled with catchy songs and hundreds of cute dancing boys, which is really all a nine year-old girl needs. Just ask High School Musical.

You saw me through many summers of camp, giving my friends and me a beautiful soundtrack to belt out while we washed myriad dishes, and also giving us one of the only films that was acceptable to view in the staff lounge that did not star singing produce. 


You blessed me with a brief crush on a kid with bright blue eyes and greasy hair, who somehow made the battle cry "Have no fear, Brooklyn is here" something to cheer instead of ridicule. You gave me Crutchy in all his nerdy, voice-cracking glory. You filled my heart with happiness and my ears with bad fake New York accents. 


And so I apologize for leaving you out of my top ten, Newsies. I have your soundtrack. I have your VHS. I have your DVD. May I also have your forgiveness?


With Love and Contrition,


Emily