Now Leaving the Comfort Zone.

There's a blood drive going on in the basement of the church today, and I forgot to sign up. I trudged downstairs and put my name on the list. I will now be thinking about donating blood for the next 24 hours until it's over. I go through this ever time I donate. Needles freak me out. My veins are tiny and they tend to roll. Donating blood, 95% of the time, is a slow and frustrating process for me. My week would be immensely better if I didn't have to donate blood.

So why do I put myself through it? Simply because my temporary discomfort is infinitesimal compared to what the person receiving my blood is going through.

As our mission trip approaches this year, I've been witnessing the discomfort of both parents and youth in our county. We'll be departing for Pine Ridge, South Dakota in a little over a week. While there's excitement buzzing about, there are also some very apparent nerves. Will we be safe? What does the shower situation look like? Where are we sleeping? What kind of food will we be eating? I cannot place these questions solely on others. They have been swirling in my mind as well, along with some more specific worries. How will Jim handle being a "single dad" for a week? Will I be able to pump enough to keep up my milk supply? If we took a minute to really talk about it, you'd be surprised at how much worry (along with joy!) there is when we leave our comfort zone.

That's how we live, isn't it? We live in our box of expectations. We unpack our lives into these tiny little comfort zones because they keep us safe. They keep us happy. They allow us to avoid discomfort...at all costs.

What if we looked around to realize that maybe, just maybe, our discomfort can allow others to succeed? On this upcoming trip to Pine Ridge, there is a pretty good chance that we will find ourselves uncomfortable. It might get too hot, the bus might be cramped, the days might be long, and the showers may be short. However all of that will pale in comparison to the work we will be doing. This is true in all aspects of life. We shouldn't be focused on the hardships we are facing, but the rewards that may come when they are finished.

Our boxes are comfortable. We can ask a million questions, read a million articles/blogs/books, and worry until we are sick. Truthfully, nothing will fully prepare you for what is going to happen once you're out of that box. The beauty of stepping into the unknown is the fact that it is unknown. We benefit greatly when we learn from experience. We should benefit spiritually when we help others - comfortable or not.

Donate blood. Do mission work in unknown places. Mow someone's yard for them on a really hot day. Shovel snow for them when it's thirty below. And as always...

Bad Momma Post: My Daughter Is Not a Princess.

Maybe I'm jaded. Maybe I'm a "bad mom". It's entirely possible. My mom and dad were amazing parents, and I've previously blogged about what their parenting style helped me to accomplish in my life thus far. The very first lesson I wrote about is how my parents taught me to have realistic expectations about life. This doesn't mean they discouraged me in my endeavors. They knew whatever I put my mind to I would succeed at. They also knew that letting me live in a fantasy world wasn't healthy. I would never be a Rockette - I wasn't tall enough. I would never fly fighter jets - my vision is simply too bad. These are facts of life.

So here's my jaded fact of life: my daughter is not a princess.

A princess, by definition, is the daughter (or close female relative) of a monarch. As sad as it is to admit, I am not a monarch. Jim is not a monarch. In the literal sense my daughter is not a princess. She is the beautiful, wonderful daughter of a mechanic and a youth minister. She ain't no highborn.

I'm not 100% sure why, but hearing Brooklyn be called a "little princess" just makes my skin crawl. I know it shouldn't. I know that they are just words. But words have an impact. I don't want to have her hearing she's a dainty princess as she grows up, and then consider herself too posh for the rest of the world. I want her to get messy. I want her to be a warrior for herself. I don't want to raise a damsel in distress. If she wants to be Cinderella for Halloween? Great. If she wants dress up clothes, barbies, stick-on earrings, and the whole shebang? Not a problem.

Oh, and if my daughter wants a Tonka truck and a G.I. Joe? She can have them, because as far as I'm concerned toys are toys and she deserves to be happy.

Perhaps this all comes from a fear that I won't be able to raise a child who thinks for herself, and defends herself. I get anxious she'll end up being demanding and spoiled rotten. Realistically, I think it's just because she's legitimately not a princess. It almost feels like you're trying to assign her career choices early. To me, it's the same as going up to a little boy and saying, "What an adorable little King!" or "Who's the cutest president in the world?"

So, there's my rant. My daughter is not a princess. She is my daughter, and she's wonderful. I want her to be happy and successful. More importantly, I want her to be what she wants. Princess, tax attorney, or sewer maintenance worker...it's her life to choose.

And if by some miracle she meets a prince and marries him? Then please print this blog out and proceed to watch me put my foot in my mouth. However, until then, she's not a princess. She's a beautiful little girl with her whole life ahead of her...and cynical mother to see her through it.

No, Your Makeup Doesn't Look Natural.

So, I was browsing Pinterest the other evening looking for blog ideas. I am plumb stuck on what to blog about. I pinned a few different DIY things that I figured I could try and post my results, but I wasn't enthralled with most of the possibilities. Most things would have required a trip to the store. I'm lazy, so those options were out.

Finally, I got inspired by a "natural makeup" tutorial that I happened upon. I've seen many of these before on YouTube, Pinterest, and in countless fashion magazines. They all promise a simple solution to "getting that natural, summer look," or something like that. I think. Anyway, I got really frustrated when I realized how unnatural these "natural" looks were supposed to be.

So I decided, what the heck? Maybe they look unnatural because the models are just naturally waaaaayy better looking than 80% of the population. Maybe if I used these tricks on myself, they really WOULD look natural. I've been wrong before. So, I gathered up my makeup and went to work. I realized how under prepared I was, as I only own a few different palates and what I call "the basics". Here's the results:



BEFORE with glasses.

AFTER with glasses

BEFORE without glasses, but with a sweet pimple and crooked eye.

AFTER without glasses, pimple, and crooked eye.




 For those of you who are curious, here's what went into that "natural" look:
- Face: Moisturizer, spot cover-up on my pimples, foundation, bronzer, and powder
- Eyes: 3 different shadow colors, eyeliner, eyelashes curled and mascara.
- Eyebrows were highlighted and filled in
I know that there could be more that could be done...but can we please, PLEASE stop calling this a natural look!? I'm not anti-makeup. I understand the purpose, and it's great. Having said that, there is nobody that wakes up and looks like the last picture. Nobody. Not even Beyoncé.

So put on the makeup if you want, but pleeaaaasseee stop saying that it's natural. And here's my hippie-dippy plea of the day: just embrace the natural. I fully believe that one of the reasons that I normally have nice skin is because I don't put lots of junk on my face every day. I can tell you that the people who care about you don't care about your pimples, or your linear and patchy eyebrows. Chances are, they don't even notice. And if they do notice? Well, they probably just don't give a flying hoot.

The best part about this blog? As I'm finishing it up, Jim walks in and looks at me and says, "Why do you look so red?" He actually sounded concerned. I explained that I was trying out a "natural look" from Pinterest, and showed him the rest of my makeup. His response? "Yeah, that's a lot. I honestly almost didn't recognize you."

Here's to you, Jim Hudson, for thinking my natural makeup look wasn't so natural. And thank you for acknowledging that the makeup is pretty (hey, it took WORK), but preferring the everyday me instead. Oh, and for picking me a daisy.
And here's to the ladies, who are all probably bigger babes under the makeup than they think they are.