A Few Thoughts On Speaking

From June of last year until April of this year I was speaking at events pretty regularly. Five months ago I spoke to the youth in my ward. Afterward someone asked me, "Do you get nervous when you speak?"

The short answer is, "Of course I do!"

In fact, I go through a pretty routine breakdown every time I speak. BUT it's not right before or during my presentation; it's a few days before, while I'm doing my prep work - putting the finishing touches on my outline and tidying up my Power Point slides. During this time, I am fully convinced that I'm a fraud and that I have no right to teach the things I do because I don't live them perfectly. I feel worthless and overwhelmed, and I think, "This is the last time I'm going to do this. I'm not good enough for this."

In March I spoke at a Relief Society birthday celebration. A few weeks prior to the event, I heard a lesson taught by a woman who was so soft spoken, so proper, and so reverent. Frankly, it wasn't my Spiritual language at all. Not that it was a bad lesson, it just didn't penetrate my soul. I had a brief moment where I thought, "Is this what I'm supposed to be like?" As I compared myself to this other woman, I thought that maybe I'm not reverent enough, and therefore, I shouldn't be speaking at anymore Relief Society events. I can be quiet, in fact, a lot of people who don't know me well assume that I'm a very quiet person. I know how to shut up. I can do that. But reverence is a little different. But then I felt a prompting from the Spirit that said, "No. Be you. There will be women there who need to hear what you have to say in your way. There will be women there who speak the same Spiritual language as you."

I heard a woman who speaks professionally describe the exact same thing happening to her. She called it a "vulnerability attack," and she said that it often hits her the night before she speaks (she speaks about three times a week).

I was so relieved to know that it happens to her, too, because she's totally amazing. I don't think she's a fraud or a hypocrite. So maybe there's a chance that I'm not either.

After hearing her describe it, I realized that during my own vulnerability attacks, I feel exactly how Satan wants me to feel. I mean, if I were the devil, and I knew someone was preparing a message that could inspire and uplift people, I would pull out all the stops to make them think they aren't good enough and that they shouldn't share that message. And that's what pulls me through - knowing that I have a message that might inspire people and that Satan would do anything to stop me. It doesn't make it easy though. If anything, this battle against the adversary makes it harder.

Once I'm actually speaking, I'm fine. My nerves settle, and I get into a pretty good state of flow. One of the best compliments I've received after a speaking engagement was when a Relief Society President told me, "You made us feel like we were chatting with a good friend."

In April, I had one of my best speaking experiences so far. What made it great was not my own efforts, but the efforts of the Relief Society sisters who invited me to come. They did a survey among their sisters to see what they were struggling with (selecting from the topics I speak on). They invited four wards (my biggest audience ever), and they were able to tell me exactly what their sisters needed, so I was able to tweak my presentation specifically for them. Then the Sunday after I spoke, they had their Relief Society council on the topics I spoke on.

I loved that they did this. I appreciated that they really wanted to learn and grow and take in what I shared with them.

It's been a while since I spoke. I needed a bit of a break, and I had to turn down a few events because I felt like I was spending too much time away from my family. I don't know what my relationship is with public speaking from here on out - I will just go by the Spirit - but I'm grateful for the opportunities I've had. I've learned a lot about myself, and I've been able to share some things that are very special to me.

If I'm ever in a position to conduct job interviews, I will never ask people what animal they would be and why* (and ten other random facts)

Fact #1: I have a lot to do over the next two days, so I'm falling back on my usual technique of rebelling against my to-do list and blogging instead. Two of my biggest motivators for blogging are stress and excitement. I'm experiencing both right now.

Fact #2: Last night my phone fell in the toilet. This is the 4th time I've dropped my phone in the toilet (though it's the first time with this particular phone)- it's pretty much an annual tradition now. I often keep my phone in my back pocket, and even though I make a great effort to remove it before I pull my pants down to sit on the toilet (due to having it fall in the toilet in the past), I overlooked it late last night and PLUNK! (gurgle, gurgle).

Sigh...

I was quick like a fox and got it right out, but I'm without a phone while it dries.

Fact #3: Here are some of the things I've tried to use my phone for today and haven't been able to: search for a zip code, order groceries, check my bank account balance, read my scriptures, listen to music, use the calculator, take a photo of a diagram in a book, look up a password, see if my library book has come in yet, and check traffic. I hate being dependent on my phone, but it's so handy!

Fact #4: I am struuuuuugggling so much with my kids this summer. I'm not getting a long with any of them, and none of them are getting along with each other. I've become so touchy and impatient with them. It's brutal!

One of my daughter's has been whining all day that she is bored, and I refuse to entertain her, so she is sitting next to me hitting her head repeatedly on the wall. I'm about to lose my mind. All of this is going on while her friend is playing in her bedroom upstairs alone. She has a friggin' friend over, and she'd rather hit her head on the wall than go play. This has been my summer.

Fact #5: I wish Nicky could drive. I would totally trust him to drive right now, which is pretty crazy since he's only 11, but I really think he would be a decent driver. Daisy, on the other hand, I don't think I will ever trust to drive. I will be a wreck when she starts driving, but I would hand Nicky my keys today if I could.

Fact #6: Nicky is so stinkin' tan. I don't know where it is in the genes, but my mom has very tan skin, and those genes skipped me and went to Nicky.

Fact #7: Zoe has the Black Eye of All Black Eyes right now. She got kneed in the face while playing on a bouncy slide a week ago. She bruised all around her eye and then from her eye to her jaw bone. Her face was swollen and puffy, and she could barely open her eye. It was so sad. The coloring around her eye has started to fade over the last two days, and the bruising on her cheek is yellowing. She's on the mend!

Fact #8: At a bridal shower over the weekend I was accused of child abuse by an elderly relative. She repeatedly said, "What really happened, Brittany?" and then she said, "Uh-huh. I used to work in the emergency room, and I've heard it all." Then she turned to my aunt and asked her if I beat my kids. I was furious, and I left the room and didn't come back until she was gone.

People have jokingly asked me if I hit my child, which really isn't something we should joke about, but I understand that they are kidding. This woman was not joking. She was relentless, and I felt totally attacked.

Fact #9: We've had a crazy, busy, fun week so far. We've been swimming a few times, had a couple of BBQs, went to the drive-in movie, attended a ward breakfast, participated in a neighborhood parade, went to dinner with friends, enjoyed fireworks, roasted marshmallows, and played several intense rounds of Tornado (I tried to find a link to explain what Tornado is, and I can't find anything. It's a basketball game that I absolutely suck at but have always loved, and apparently the Internet is oblivious to the wonder that is TORNADO!)

Fact #10: I've mentioned here before how much I love ordering my groceries online. It saves me so much time and frustration (as well as money since I'm a HUGE impulse shopper - if I see it, I need it). We will be going on vacation soon, and I planned out all of our meals and pre-ordered our groceries so they will be ready for us to pick up from the store the night we get there.

LIFE CHANGING!!!

*This was my former bosses favorite interview question, and I think it's the most annoying thing in the world. When he asked me this question, I randomly blurted out "cat," and then I had to think of a reason for cat. My first instinct was to say, "Because I'm house-trained," but then I made up some BS about being independent. 

Big Dreams & Little Sleep

For the past few years, I've been trying to define my relationship with lists. I'm very anti-"to-do" lists. I hate 'em, and as soon as something is written on a "to-do" list, I immediately rebel - even if I wrote the list. I get all, "You're not the boss of me, List!" Because of this weird rebellion, "to-do" lists rarely work for me. 

I am, however, a big list-maker, and that's why I'm like, "Gee Lists, what is this thing we have going on between us?" I've described myself as a list lover and a list hater, but it finally dawned on me the other day that I'm only a "to-do" list hater!

Ah-ha! I hate "to-do" lists! That's it! That's the relationship!

Other than that, I love lists. I have notebooks all over my house with different lists, and most of my lists are brainstorming lists... or idea lists. I am always writing out ideas. Most of them never come to fruition, but making the list is half the fun!

During the past few months, I've gone through a bit of a creativity drought. One thing I've wrestled with in motherhood is not being able to create in all the ways I like. The things I want to do aren't always feasible with little ones around. I've had to discover some new ways to be creative - and that has actually been good for me. One thing I've learned in my adult experience is that creativity doesn't always yield something tangible. I used to think that creativity was synonymous with crafting or art - there had to be a product at the end. I've created many tangible things over the years, some of which have given me great satisfaction and joy, but creativity isn't always about "making stuff." 

I've discovered some other outlets for my creativity - my blog has definitely been one of them. I started blogging shortly before I found out I was pregnant with Nicky, so I've had this creative outlet for the entire time I've been a mother, and it has been such a blessing for me. 

Another creative outlet I've discovered is the act of seeking personal revelation. That may not sound like a creative process, and for many people, it probably isn't, but for me it truly is. My personal search for revelation and for a relationship with God gives me a creative fix. I still need to explore this idea more and find the right words to describe it - this is something I only recently connected, so I'm still processing. 

Parenting - as much as I've struggled - has provided a lot of creative opportunities. Not just in the "entertaining my children" department, but in everyday problem-solving. Problem-solving is not always my favorite way to use my creativity, but I've had some times when I've had ideas that really worked well and were very rewarding.

Teaching and speaking are some other ways that I've been able to be creative. Writing my practicum for school really gave me the opportunity to create, and I've been able to take what I've created and share it with others (more on this in the future - I have a post about my speaking experiences in the works). 

My Church callings have required my creativity as well. I loved teaching youth Sunday school and coming up with ways to add variety and to connect with the teenagers. My new(is) calling of primary music leader clearly requires creativity, but I haven't yet learned to appreciate this creative "opportunity." 

Meal planning and vacation planning give me a bit of a creative fix. Creating meals and creating systems is rewarding for me. I enjoy preparing meals for other people, and I like the planning process for grocery shopping and packing (I don't like the actual packing, though, just the planning part where I get to make lists of ideas) (the actual packing is a "to-do" thing, hence my repulsion). 

I'm glad I have these outlets and that I've been about to make a connection with them as "creative tasks," but there are still some areas of creativity where I feel stifled. I love decorating and fixing stuff up and creating a nice living space, so I struggle with the fact that I can't put much creativity into my home right now (part of this is a time problem, part of this is a children problem, and part of this is a money problem). I also really wish I could choreograph dance. I have so many ideas, and that's the one thing I miss the most about dancing. I really enjoy interpreting and using music - I love creating movement and formations. I don't know how I would fare as a choreographer now since I can't actual do any of the things that I visualize in my mind, but if I had a group of well-trained, mind-reading dancers to work with, I could really get my creative fix! (I have one idea in particular that is making me itch - it would require some props from a junk yard). 

One of my life's biggest regrets is that I didn't do more musical things in my youth. I wish I would have done some choirs in school. I wish I would have learned to play an instrument. I wish I'd taken some music theory classes. I think I had the brain for it - I just needed to be taught. 

Right now I have a lot of ideas running through my head. There are a lot of things I want to create and a lot of things I want to do. In fact, I didn't sleep last night because my head was buzzing with big dreams. One thing I really want to do - that is completely out of my element - is write a song. I've had the title in mind for a few years. I think I can write the lyrics, but I don't think I could actually write the music. I might need to collaborate on that one. I have several ideas for books I'd like to write. There are things I want to make out of wood. I told Scotty yesterday that I want to buy a scroll saw, a helium tank, and a $2,000 snow cone machine. 

Big dreams, big dreams.

My problem is that when I get these big ideas - the kind I lose sleep over - I tend to try to do too much and I burn out (that's why my house has been under construction for three years) (well, that and kids). 

For now, I'll channel most of my creativity into breaking up my kids' fights and keeping track of their shoes (still brainstorming on how to make the latter possible - I've been working on that for nearly 12 years), but I hope there comes a day when I get to engage in more of the creative processes that I've had to set aside. In the meantime, I'll keep making lists of ideas.

The Parable of the Jelly Beans

My favorite flavor of Jelly Bellies is buttered popcorn. If given the opportunity, I'll sift through the container and pick out the buttered popcorn beans one by one. I find that people either passionately love or hate the flavor. There is no in between.

I was really excited when WinCo came to town several years back, and I discovered that they carried buttered popcorn jelly beans in the bulk bins. I could buy an entire bag of just buttered popcorn Jelly Bellies! So I did! It was small bag, of course, since Jelly Bellies cost more than bag of rare gems, but I was thrilled at the opportunity.

I brought the jelly beans home, ate them, and found that I didn't enjoy them as much when I had a bag full of the same flavor. It turns out that my favorite jelly beans taste much better when they are searched for in a sea of other flavors.

I was explaining this phenomenon to Shannon the other day for the purpose of simply discussing jelly beans flavors, but afterward (as I continued eating the jellybeans that my kids left on my bed, rendering them fair game) I pondered the different life lessons to be learned from jelly beans. In the case of the buttered popcorn jelly beans, there is a great lesson about opposition.

My buttered popcorn jelly beans taste better to me when they are among other flavors of jelly beans - peach, coffee, lime, root beer... Some flavors are better than others, and some are really easy to discard (even without the selection of dirt, vomit, and earwax). In order to really appreciate the buttered popcorn, I also need to have the possibility of eating the other flavors.

Shannon is a teacher, and she has often discussed with me how you can't teach someone something without also teaching them what it's not. For example, for a child to understand what RED is, it's not enough to show the child something red. The child also has to comprehend what is not red - green is not red. Yellow is not red. And only when the child understand what red is not, does she truly understand what red is. 

Likewise, how would we know happiness if we didn't know sadness? How would we appreciate health if we didn't also experience illness? Sadness, illness, and other hard things are jelly beans I don't want to eat, but if those things didn't exist, I wouldn't fully enjoy the buttered popcorn.

In the book The Upside of Stress by Dr. Kelly McGonigal, she discusses research that has shown that people who have suffered an average number of traumatic events are more satisfied with their lives than people who haven't suffered a lot of adversity (I don't know what the "average number" is - I'm not sure I want to know), but there's something to be said for hard things. I don't invite them, I don't want them, but I understand their purpose. They are the jelly beans we don't want, but they make the best jelly beans taste all the yummier!

Our "New" Table

Last night we moved our "new" kitchen table into the house. I painted it almost two weeks ago, and then I left it alone to cure before it became a victim of our family. Now that it's in the kitchen, its days are numbered.

We've been through a few kitchen table renovations during our marriage. You can see our original kitchen table here (as well as the different paint jobs it went through circa the early 2000's). In 2010, we got a new kitchen table - our first table straight from the furniture store! (See it here - with my old blue wall). That table was doomed from the start. We'd hardly owned it a minute before it got damaged from an iron and then warped by a water spill. The table top has been chipping apart for years. Scotty planned to build a new table top, and then we wanted to paint the legs and chairs for a little update, but then we were given a table that's a lot better built. 

Here is what it looked like: 

The table is pressed wood with a laminate over it. Ultimately, I don't know how well the paint job will hold up, but I'm hoping we get at least five years out of it. 

I didn't have a specific color in mind - I just knew I wanted something kind of neutral. I'm pretty flexible with projects like this. I ended up buying a quart of Annie Sloan chalk paint in old white and mixing in some gray chalk paint I had leftover from another project. I sanded the table a little bit to help the paint adhere better, and then I slapped on a few coats of paint. 

Since I'd mixed my own color, I ended up not having quite enough, so I had to get clever to make it work. I mixed a little bit of water in the paint and scraped out every drop of it. 

I decided to glaze the table because glaze gives the piece permission to have flaws - and let's face it - a painted table is going to have flaws. I had some tintable glaze leftover from another project, so I mixed in some gray paint that I bought from the mistint selection at Lowe's last year (I buy cheap paint all the time - I can't help it. It's an addiction). I put on a coat of glaze, which was terrifying because I knew the only way to get rid of the glaze would be to start over from square one since I was out of paint. Then I put on four coats of high performance topcoat (also left over from a previous project). 

I wanted to keep my kitchen chairs because I still love them (the scalloped backs haven't gotten old to me yet), but they are a little banged up and needed some updating. I considered a lot of options for paint, and when it came down to it, I'd rather pull out my own teeth than paint my chairs with a brush. We have a paint sprayer, but I would have had to thin the paint to use the sprayer, and it would have taken several coats, plus I would have had to wait for Scotty to come home to help me move the compressor, so I decided to be independent and use regular, old spray paint. 

A word about spray paint: I've used a lot of spray paint in my life. It has its problems for sure - it doesn't always coat evenly, sometimes it runs, it's wasteful on a windy day, and so on and so forth. But for my kitchen chairs, I decided to overlook all of those things because spray painted chairs will be easy to touch up. If someone's button on their pants scratches the paint on the chair, I can just spray it and be done with it. 

I went to the store to scope out the color selection, and I fell in love with Krylon Pistachio with a satin finish (I love the color, and I love the finish). 

I hauled the six chairs outside, gave them a good scrubbing (seriously the worst part), and sprayed them. Then I let them dry and I sprayed them again. Then I let them dry and I sprayed them again. Then I let them dry and I sprayed them again. After three-ish coats of spray paint and a few touch ups, they dried a final time, and then I brought them back in the house. 

They still need a few touch ups. I keep finding spots where the old color is showing through slightly. I bought a few cans of paint yesterday to keep on hand. 

Here is the final product:

It ended up costing about $100. Not bad for a "new" table. 

I'd Do Anything for Love, but I Won't Do That

When Scotty was young, he bought the Meat Loaf CD with the song, "I'd Do Anything for Love." (He got in trouble when his mom found out it has an explicit lyrics warning on it). Scotty loved and still loves that song, but I'm not a fan of his Meat Loaf (nor his Neil Diamond) impression.

At night time, I insist on sleeping with three pillows, like so:

(Although I did make one doodling error- my bottom leg should be straight and not under the pillow).

It's a big deal, and it makes traveling hard because I can't really take three pillows camping, and I can't always have three pillows at a hotel. At home, though, I have to have my three pillows.

The other night, Scotty and I were nestling into our bed for the night, and part of the ritual includes dividing the pillows between us. Scotty sleeps with one regular pillow and a body pillow, so we have to make sure we each have the pillows we need before we doze off. Sometimes this results in some rearranging and negotiating. Our kids frequently steal our pillows to make birds' nests, so it's a normal thing for one of us to ask the other, "Do you have an extra pillow over there?" Our pillow inventory is always messed with. That night, Scotty asked if I had an extra pillow on my side. I looked on the floor, and there was one there, so I threw it at him (another bed time ritual is that if we need to pass a pillow to the other person, we do so by lovingly hitting them in the face with it). Then Scotty said, "Wow! Did you just sacrifice one of your pillows for me?" (because he didn't see that I'd picked it up of the floor).

I said, "Psht! No!"

And then I began to sing in my best Meat Loaf voice...

"I'd do anything for love... but I won't do that!"

Because I love him dearly, but I will not surrender one of my pillows. I will fold a blanket and stick it in a pillowcase for him. I will steal a pillow from under a kid's head while they sleep, but I will not give Scotty one of my three.

No. I won't do that!

Ta Da Before Ten

With the kids being out of school for the summer, I'm way behind on everything. I start a lot of tasks, but I can't finish any of them because my kids need me. I'll be trying to load the dishwasher, balancing Pyrex on my head and whatnot while my hands are covered in rotten mystery substances, and one kid will be screaming from the bathroom for me to wipe her butt while another is pulling on my legs asking for milk. All of this happens as if the existence of the world depends solely on me accomplishing butt wiping and milk pouring simultaneously. Unfortunately, I'm not able to do both at once - try as I might - and the kid I attend to second usually tries to tear my face off with her teeth.

I've started asking Scotty to occasionally take the kids somewhere after work. I realized it's not super helpful for me to leave to get a break, I need them to leave. I need to be in my living space without them so I can be productive. Earlier this week, Scotty took all the kids to Nickelmania, and I stayed home and worked on laundry. When they came home, I felt like I'd accomplished very little. I had big dreams of getting a lot more stuff done, but there just isn't enough time to get caught up during one Nickelmania trip.

Remember how I want my super power to be having my crap together? Part of that super power would include being caught up on stuff. What does it feel like to be all caught up? To be on top of things? I want that! Gimme some of that!

Anyway, sorry about the whine fest. Here's what I'm getting to: Last night my kids slept over at my in-laws. I was there with them until about 9:30. I got home around 10:00 and went to bed. My goal was to wake up at 6:00 and go to breakfast with Scotty for about an hour, then come home and be super productive until I had to pick my kids up at 10:00.

The breakfast thing didn't work out. I ended up waking up at 1:00, and I didn't go back to sleep until 4:00. Then from 4:00-6:00, I woke up around every 20 minutes. When I saw that it was 6:00-ish, I thought, "To heck with breakfast," and I went back to sleep until 6:30. It was too late to go before Scotty had to leave for work unless we went to somewhere like McDonald's... which, nah! I can go to McDonald's with my kids any time. This was supposed to be a chance to go somewhere I don't get to go.

After Scotty left for work, I set out to accomplish as much as possible before 10:00 a.m. A couple months ago, I wrote about how I sometimes make "Ta Da" lists to help me recognize that I actually do get some stuff done during the day - it just never feels or looks like it.

Here is what I did before 10:00 today:

• Made bed
• Started load of laundry
• 15 minute kitchen blitz*
• 5 minute bathroom blitz
• Flat ironed hair
• Cleaned out van
• Took out garbage
• Watered garden
• 10 more minutes in kitchen
• Changed laundry
• Read scriptures
• Worked on singing time for next three weeks
• Went to Walmart
• Went to Dollar Tree

It feels like nothing, yet it is something. It just wasn't enough to get caught up. One thing remains true: I still don't have super powers. 

When my kids got home, they were acting like a bunch of angry wildebeests so I made them all go to bed. They slept for about three hours. It was wonderful! What did I accomplish during this time?

• Nap

*I really do set a timer.