Okay, so in the context, I get what Juliet was saying. She had her point. But I'm about to make mine. Would she really have been interested in Romeo so much in the beginning if his name were Cletus? (Please no offense if your grandpa's name is Cletus, I'm sure he was a wonderful guy in spite of his mother's bad choice.)
Giving a name to a human being that has to work from his infancy to his shuffleboard team days is not a task to take lightly! Honestly, you can't even think about what all it entails without wondering if there is any way you're going to be able to live with your decision.
Here are some of the things you have to think about before sticking a moniker on your kid. (Or at least some of the things I think about.)
1. Do you like it
2. Does the baby daddy like it
3. Will your offspring (current and upcoming) like it
4. Can all of your family and their endearing accents pronounce it
5. Do the initials spell anything weird or make an acronym like LSD or something
6. What possible nicknames and taunts could come from it (Now this one is a toughy, because of mean kids, most names could have something bad happen to them, but you can't make it easy on them)
7. Are there any major crime cases involving the name--criminal OR victim (for example, I doubt many people named their kid Lacy in 2002 because of that horrid case)
8. Does it sound right when you imagine it being said in full at your child's graduation
9. Does it look right
10. Does it feel right
And these are just my top ten.
It's three years later and I still feel good about my name choice of my first born. I'm just still working on meeting all the criteria for this one!
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
This blog entry is not airbrushed
I went shopping again today. I didn't think I could do it so soon, but I made it back this time without tears (at least mine, Brynn cried a couple of times). I knew better than to go alone though, I took my mom with me in case I broke down again. :)
However, since apparently maternity clothes are an endangered species in Spartanburg, I came home and got to looking online. (It's pretty bad when a Dillard's employee refers you to Target!)
I will start by saying I have found some cute things that actually look like maternity clothes online, not just clothes you wear when you're trying to hide that you're pregnant. (I want people to be so sure that my belly has a baby in it that they aaaaaaalmost ask me. We all know you never under and circumstances actually ask someone.) However, I am quite intrigued by the fact that even plus sized maternity clothes are airbrushed! I am not experienced in graphic design, but I know for a fact there is no way a woman wearing these clothes could have arms as skinny as these. And trying to add an hourglass figure to a 8 month pregnant woman is just silly. It's not going to look natural no matter how you try.
Who do they think is looking at these clothes? I suppose they think I'll look at this and say, "Wow, if they can look this skinny in these I must by them!" While in actuality I'm thinking, "Can I please just see what they really look like in these clothes?" Sigh.
The journey continues.
However, since apparently maternity clothes are an endangered species in Spartanburg, I came home and got to looking online. (It's pretty bad when a Dillard's employee refers you to Target!)
I will start by saying I have found some cute things that actually look like maternity clothes online, not just clothes you wear when you're trying to hide that you're pregnant. (I want people to be so sure that my belly has a baby in it that they aaaaaaalmost ask me. We all know you never under and circumstances actually ask someone.) However, I am quite intrigued by the fact that even plus sized maternity clothes are airbrushed! I am not experienced in graphic design, but I know for a fact there is no way a woman wearing these clothes could have arms as skinny as these. And trying to add an hourglass figure to a 8 month pregnant woman is just silly. It's not going to look natural no matter how you try.
Who do they think is looking at these clothes? I suppose they think I'll look at this and say, "Wow, if they can look this skinny in these I must by them!" While in actuality I'm thinking, "Can I please just see what they really look like in these clothes?" Sigh.
The journey continues.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Maternity Clothes are Stupid.
I have mentioned before that I have issues with anxiety. I am doing extremely well using my strategies since I have been off of my crazy pills for a while now. That's not what this blog entry is about.
This is about the attack of the insane pregnancy hormones.
I don't remember being particularly moody when I was pregnant with Brynn. Maybe no one told me. I wouldn't call myself moody right now, but I haven't thought of a better word for it. I'm fine most days, but then other days I absolutely cry uncontrollably over NOTHING.
Friday was a particularly frustrating day at school with everything except my students. Those are the worst days. I would rather have multiple child meltdowns than a day of paperwork going wrong and working with adults. (Hence the reason I did not grow up and get a grown-up job. I play for a living.) I had been planning on leaving school ASAP and going shopping since it seems the front of all my shirts are shrinking. I got to school early to get some stuff done (which ended up being wrong) to be sure I could leave at 3 on the nose. So after my frustrating day, I was thrilled that retail therapy was within reach.
I realized that not only do you forget all the pain of childbirth after it's over, but apparently you also have amnesia about how sucky shopping for maternity clothes is. 99% of maternity clothes are made for women who could get by with the rubberband trick in their pants and going up a size in regular shirts. AND they try to make them for no particular season (read: 3/4 sleeves and cheap material). The maternity section in Belk (which hardly covers the same square footage as our daughter's tiny bedroom) was even called 3 seasons. I get the pun on the trimesters, har har, but these clothes are neither good for winter nor summer, so I only count possibly 2 seasons of wear. IF you aren't actually pregnant.
I have also discovered even aside from clothes, there is very little information out there for 2nd (or beyond) time mommies. I get the little aside sometimes like, "By the way, if you have been pregnant before everything is already stretched out and you get huge immediately. But we don't want to talk about that."
Since I wasn't exactly lean and lank BEFORE I began growing another human being, I'm a bit self-conscious of my size anyway. So squeezing into a shirt that is supposedly made for 2 people to fit into that my cantaloupe and I were busting out of did nothing for my self-esteem. (If anyone is wondering, I was trying on the sizes that according to the tags should have fit. I'm not trying to fool myself.) I know I'm 3 1/2 months pregnant, but for some reason, I can't accept that this belly is a baby and not just fat yet. (??? I told you I'm in crazy preggo land right now. Thought of a word other than moody yet? Looney? Schizo? Insane in the membrane?)
I had to sit down in the dressing room and cry. I was in all but the ugly cry stage and started developing a plan. I could call someone to come get me. I thought I could explain what dressing room I was in without having to go back out there alone. People needed to know that Jabba the Hutt here did have people who loved her, she wasn't just wandering the world looking for someone else to eat.
I brought my sweet husband to mind who always has a way to calm me out of my bizarre-est of moments, and I knew he would remind me that they were just clothes, and I'm beautiful the way I am. That gave me the strength to wipe of my runny mascara and go back out there. I went back over to the maxi dresses in the regular section to see if any of them could drape over my gorilla body. Of course the first one I tried on was HIDEOUS. I can't even begin to describe how ill-fitting this dress was except that I cannot imagine what kind of body it was designed for. Thankfully though, it was the last horrid thing I put on that day. I actually ended up with two dresses I feel really good about, but unfortunately still don't have any more shirts. It was all I could handle that day though.
Just to make myself feel even better I also got a new pair of shoes too. Shoes never make you feel bad about yourself. They are so forgiving. Even ugly shoes, you just think, "Wow, those shoes are ugly." You don't think, "I need to go on a diet so these shoes will look better."
Of course on my way home I called Erick and fell apart all over again recounting how horrible my experience was. Then my mom called, and as hard as I try, there is no way to hide my emotions from her, and her sympathy is all it takes to push me over into the ugly cry. The one that makes my face go polka-dotted and my eyes swell shut.
Thankfully only two days later I can laugh about it, but in the moment, there is nothing worse. Whoever wrote the thing I read recently about loving your body because it is doing something wonderful and blah blah was not actually pregnant at the time of writing that. I want this baby more than anything and it is well worth massive melt-downs in the dressing room, but I'm pregnant, and gosh darn it I can cry if I feel like it.
This is about the attack of the insane pregnancy hormones.
I don't remember being particularly moody when I was pregnant with Brynn. Maybe no one told me. I wouldn't call myself moody right now, but I haven't thought of a better word for it. I'm fine most days, but then other days I absolutely cry uncontrollably over NOTHING.
Friday was a particularly frustrating day at school with everything except my students. Those are the worst days. I would rather have multiple child meltdowns than a day of paperwork going wrong and working with adults. (Hence the reason I did not grow up and get a grown-up job. I play for a living.) I had been planning on leaving school ASAP and going shopping since it seems the front of all my shirts are shrinking. I got to school early to get some stuff done (which ended up being wrong) to be sure I could leave at 3 on the nose. So after my frustrating day, I was thrilled that retail therapy was within reach.
I realized that not only do you forget all the pain of childbirth after it's over, but apparently you also have amnesia about how sucky shopping for maternity clothes is. 99% of maternity clothes are made for women who could get by with the rubberband trick in their pants and going up a size in regular shirts. AND they try to make them for no particular season (read: 3/4 sleeves and cheap material). The maternity section in Belk (which hardly covers the same square footage as our daughter's tiny bedroom) was even called 3 seasons. I get the pun on the trimesters, har har, but these clothes are neither good for winter nor summer, so I only count possibly 2 seasons of wear. IF you aren't actually pregnant.
I have also discovered even aside from clothes, there is very little information out there for 2nd (or beyond) time mommies. I get the little aside sometimes like, "By the way, if you have been pregnant before everything is already stretched out and you get huge immediately. But we don't want to talk about that."
Since I wasn't exactly lean and lank BEFORE I began growing another human being, I'm a bit self-conscious of my size anyway. So squeezing into a shirt that is supposedly made for 2 people to fit into that my cantaloupe and I were busting out of did nothing for my self-esteem. (If anyone is wondering, I was trying on the sizes that according to the tags should have fit. I'm not trying to fool myself.) I know I'm 3 1/2 months pregnant, but for some reason, I can't accept that this belly is a baby and not just fat yet. (??? I told you I'm in crazy preggo land right now. Thought of a word other than moody yet? Looney? Schizo? Insane in the membrane?)
I had to sit down in the dressing room and cry. I was in all but the ugly cry stage and started developing a plan. I could call someone to come get me. I thought I could explain what dressing room I was in without having to go back out there alone. People needed to know that Jabba the Hutt here did have people who loved her, she wasn't just wandering the world looking for someone else to eat.
I brought my sweet husband to mind who always has a way to calm me out of my bizarre-est of moments, and I knew he would remind me that they were just clothes, and I'm beautiful the way I am. That gave me the strength to wipe of my runny mascara and go back out there. I went back over to the maxi dresses in the regular section to see if any of them could drape over my gorilla body. Of course the first one I tried on was HIDEOUS. I can't even begin to describe how ill-fitting this dress was except that I cannot imagine what kind of body it was designed for. Thankfully though, it was the last horrid thing I put on that day. I actually ended up with two dresses I feel really good about, but unfortunately still don't have any more shirts. It was all I could handle that day though.
Just to make myself feel even better I also got a new pair of shoes too. Shoes never make you feel bad about yourself. They are so forgiving. Even ugly shoes, you just think, "Wow, those shoes are ugly." You don't think, "I need to go on a diet so these shoes will look better."
Of course on my way home I called Erick and fell apart all over again recounting how horrible my experience was. Then my mom called, and as hard as I try, there is no way to hide my emotions from her, and her sympathy is all it takes to push me over into the ugly cry. The one that makes my face go polka-dotted and my eyes swell shut.
Thankfully only two days later I can laugh about it, but in the moment, there is nothing worse. Whoever wrote the thing I read recently about loving your body because it is doing something wonderful and blah blah was not actually pregnant at the time of writing that. I want this baby more than anything and it is well worth massive melt-downs in the dressing room, but I'm pregnant, and gosh darn it I can cry if I feel like it.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Faith in the Oven
I really stink at keeping secrets.
Not like I tell them or anything when I'm not supposed to, but I just have to avoid talking at all to whomever it involves. Take this baby business for example. I disappeared from blogging because all I wanted to talk about was related to my being pregnant.
Erick and I decided not to tell anyone (except our moms, dads, and brothers) until after the first ultrasound. Okay, so I told a few other people before that too. See, I told you I stink at it. I promise if it was your secret I would do better. I feel more at liberty with my own.
in the few weeks before that first ultrasound, I had some pretty soul-deafening fear like I'd never felt before. I don't know how some people go through the pain of losing a child more than once. That is a heartache I just can't believe I can bear again. It makes me pray that much harder for others still struggling. I clung to the words repeated about 100 times in the Bible, "Do not be afraid."
When Erick and I finally got to see that beautiful baby with the strong heartbeat floating in a just-right sized womb, it was pleasantly anti-climatic. "Hmm. Baby is a little bigger than 8 weeks, but it's close so we'll leave it." Oh so different from last time. If you don't remember, May baby was about 2 weeks too small and there was no fluid. I asked this time just to be sure, "So that all looks perfect, right?" The doctor assured me it was.
Last week I had another appointment. I was perfectly fine until about the day before. Then I started being afraid again. I knew in my head everything was okay, but my belly just isn't quite big enough for me to really believe I'm pregnant. (Especially since thankfully I'm not throwing up every time I walk into the bathroom!) Again though, we got a good report from a sweet nurse, "Wow, that's a great heartbeat for 12 weeks!"
I have never had an experience like this one. After two pregnancies--one perfect and one a nightmare--it's like I'm starting over. I am painfully aware of how little control I have over the process of this baby coming out healthy. Sure, I'm taking my vitamins, eating and not eating the right things, not smoking, not drinking, no caffeine, and all the other things we know about. But there are so many many things only God is just left to take care of.
I know I should give Him all my fears and doubts, but the human side of me would feel like I wasn't caring or somehow wasn't doing enough. So thankfully, God understands that I am doing the absolute best I can. He has given me peace about the 95% that I have turned over and is holding the other 5% while I stand very close by with a finger on it.
Not like I tell them or anything when I'm not supposed to, but I just have to avoid talking at all to whomever it involves. Take this baby business for example. I disappeared from blogging because all I wanted to talk about was related to my being pregnant.
Erick and I decided not to tell anyone (except our moms, dads, and brothers) until after the first ultrasound. Okay, so I told a few other people before that too. See, I told you I stink at it. I promise if it was your secret I would do better. I feel more at liberty with my own.
in the few weeks before that first ultrasound, I had some pretty soul-deafening fear like I'd never felt before. I don't know how some people go through the pain of losing a child more than once. That is a heartache I just can't believe I can bear again. It makes me pray that much harder for others still struggling. I clung to the words repeated about 100 times in the Bible, "Do not be afraid."
When Erick and I finally got to see that beautiful baby with the strong heartbeat floating in a just-right sized womb, it was pleasantly anti-climatic. "Hmm. Baby is a little bigger than 8 weeks, but it's close so we'll leave it." Oh so different from last time. If you don't remember, May baby was about 2 weeks too small and there was no fluid. I asked this time just to be sure, "So that all looks perfect, right?" The doctor assured me it was.
Last week I had another appointment. I was perfectly fine until about the day before. Then I started being afraid again. I knew in my head everything was okay, but my belly just isn't quite big enough for me to really believe I'm pregnant. (Especially since thankfully I'm not throwing up every time I walk into the bathroom!) Again though, we got a good report from a sweet nurse, "Wow, that's a great heartbeat for 12 weeks!"
I have never had an experience like this one. After two pregnancies--one perfect and one a nightmare--it's like I'm starting over. I am painfully aware of how little control I have over the process of this baby coming out healthy. Sure, I'm taking my vitamins, eating and not eating the right things, not smoking, not drinking, no caffeine, and all the other things we know about. But there are so many many things only God is just left to take care of.
I know I should give Him all my fears and doubts, but the human side of me would feel like I wasn't caring or somehow wasn't doing enough. So thankfully, God understands that I am doing the absolute best I can. He has given me peace about the 95% that I have turned over and is holding the other 5% while I stand very close by with a finger on it.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Not many words today...
Raise your hand if you ever have had so much to do you have no idea where to start? So then you just sit down and play Words with Friends. That's me. Sometimes when faced with that I'll write a to do list, but that takes so long that by the time I'm done, I'm hungry and have to fix supper.
Anyway, that's how I've been feeling concerning what to write in my blog this time. I've felt the need to write this week, but there is too much yammering around in my head to pick a topic.
So today will be short and sweet (aside from those few sentences that I just wasted your time with).
"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you." Psalm 56:3
There was a song I helped teach a whole bunch of kids at VBS this past summer based on this verse. I hope they remember it when they need it, just as I was reminded of it when I googled "Bible verse on trust." So simple, but so needed. Thanks, Google, and thanks, God.
Anyway, that's how I've been feeling concerning what to write in my blog this time. I've felt the need to write this week, but there is too much yammering around in my head to pick a topic.
So today will be short and sweet (aside from those few sentences that I just wasted your time with).
"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you." Psalm 56:3
There was a song I helped teach a whole bunch of kids at VBS this past summer based on this verse. I hope they remember it when they need it, just as I was reminded of it when I googled "Bible verse on trust." So simple, but so needed. Thanks, Google, and thanks, God.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Just walk home...
John 4:46-54
New International Version (NIV)
46 Once more he visited Cana in Galilee, where he had turned the water into wine. And there was a certain royal official whose son lay sick at Capernaum. 47 When this man heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea, he went to him and begged him to come and heal his son, who was close to death.
48 “Unless you people see signs and wonders,” Jesus told him, “you will never believe.”
49 The royal official said, “Sir, come down before my child dies.”
50 “Go,” Jesus replied, “your son will live.”
The man took Jesus at his word and departed. 51 While he was still on the way, his servants met him with the news that his boy was living. 52 When he inquired as to the time when his son got better, they said to him, “Yesterday, at one in the afternoon, the fever left him.”
53 Then the father realized that this was the exact time at which Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” So he and his whole household believed.
This is one story I read this morning during my Bible study. I got back out my Discerning God's Voice workbook so I could finish the days I didn't do the first time around when I was in the group.
Every time before I write a blog like this I pray that God will give me the words to write and that someone will be touched by it. That is one--maybe the only--thing in my life that I have faith in like the official in this story.
This shows me another example of God not doing things how we thought it would be done. This man walked about 20 miles to ask Jesus to come back with him and heal his son. Jesus spoke and it was done. Now is when the official gets really admirable to me.
He went home!
Change the character in this story to Lacy, and the following conversation would have occurred:
"Umm, ok. Uh, I said you could come to my house. I just didn't know if you heard me. I've got some sweet tea and macaroni and cheese made. Um, I really wanted you to uh--did you say you're done? Um, wanna come with me to check? Make sure?"
That man had enough faith he just went home. Surely he and Jesus exchanged pleasantries that the Bible doesn't record, but if he had argued, that would have made it in the Book. Granted, he asked when he got home what time his son was healed, but he knew it would line up. Why wouldn't it, right?
I believe this story happened. I believed Jesus turned water into wine. I believe He walked on water. I believe he raised Lazarus. Etc, etc. etc. So why is it so hard to believe that He can solve my problems?
I think it's because it seems too much like expecting to win the lottery sometimes. Sure, somebody will win. 1 out of 123,125,093,862. There are what, like 7 billion people on this Earth. Who cares about what Lacy needs to eat for breakfast?
God does. He is 7 billion people big. He is Lacy small. Mustard seed small in fact. The God of this universe continues to love me, and if I just ask, he'll help me out. He was 20 miles away then. He's a dimension away now. Yet with His words it is done. I can walk home in confidence.
He replied, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." --Matthew 17:20
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Movie Weekend
I caught up on a couple of movies most everyone has probably already seen this weekend and thought I'd share.
Larry Crowne
I liked this one a lot. It's not one I'd watch over and over, but I wouldn't mind watching it again. It was a very feel good movie. I love Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts, so you pretty much can't go wrong.
It had some sad stuff, but nothing that made me cry. Just very real life-ish at times.
The Help
First of all, I haven't finished this one yet. It's long! I didn't realize that going in. I'm going to try to finish it before I take it back to Redbox.
I knew sorta kinda what it was about, but it is a lot heavier than I thought it would be. I obviously hadn't read a synopsis. It's very good, definitely should win some awards, but not a easy fluffy Saturday afternoon movie. Especially not for the kind of mood I was in yesterday! (Phew, that's another blog in itself.)
One thing that made this movie hard to watch is that you can't dismiss the bad things with, "Oh, it's just a movie." No, it really happened, and to some degree still goes on I'm sure. It's just a very honest view on how things were. I love Bryce Dallas Howard but oh my gosh, this character is disgusting! I wanted to reach in the tv and strangle her.
I had Erick look up the ending to make sure Minny or Aibileen don't get killed. I couldn't watch it then.
I wanted to go see the new Sherlock Holmes movie in the theater, but we got there at 2:30 and it started at 2. We probably wouldn't have missed much, but I don't like going in late. Maybe next time we'll look at the times before we go.
Larry Crowne
I liked this one a lot. It's not one I'd watch over and over, but I wouldn't mind watching it again. It was a very feel good movie. I love Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts, so you pretty much can't go wrong.
It had some sad stuff, but nothing that made me cry. Just very real life-ish at times.
The Help
First of all, I haven't finished this one yet. It's long! I didn't realize that going in. I'm going to try to finish it before I take it back to Redbox.
I knew sorta kinda what it was about, but it is a lot heavier than I thought it would be. I obviously hadn't read a synopsis. It's very good, definitely should win some awards, but not a easy fluffy Saturday afternoon movie. Especially not for the kind of mood I was in yesterday! (Phew, that's another blog in itself.)
One thing that made this movie hard to watch is that you can't dismiss the bad things with, "Oh, it's just a movie." No, it really happened, and to some degree still goes on I'm sure. It's just a very honest view on how things were. I love Bryce Dallas Howard but oh my gosh, this character is disgusting! I wanted to reach in the tv and strangle her.
I had Erick look up the ending to make sure Minny or Aibileen don't get killed. I couldn't watch it then.
I wanted to go see the new Sherlock Holmes movie in the theater, but we got there at 2:30 and it started at 2. We probably wouldn't have missed much, but I don't like going in late. Maybe next time we'll look at the times before we go.
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