Leaving the nest (more college musings)

Yesterday I wrote a little bit about why fresh, brand-new adults shouldn't just rush off to college because that's what they're expected to do. Today I'm going to take a different tack and discuss why young adults should leave home and go far, far away for a time (even if it's not to college). My departure from home to head across the country was once described by someone who had no idea what they were talking about as "getting away as soon as she could." It's true that I was eager to head off to college, but I was running towards something new, not away from what I had known. And while I am very glad that I live closer to my family again (and hope to be much closer someday), I cherish the time I had to find myself, away from anyone with preconceived notions about me.

Please forgive me for being cliche, but I belive I gained much from leaving the nest that would have been difficult to achieve if I had remained in my comfort zone, surrounded by my beloved friends and family. My abilities, my confidence, and my beliefs were tested -- and held true. Of course, support was only a phone call or IM away (remember when you learned how to IM, Mom? You were a pro!). But I knew that how I responded to "life tests" truly reflected me and my choices, because nobody around me had any idea what to expect. So I learned a lot about myself, my strengths and my weaknesses. I learned that sometimes it was better to skip a movie and study my notes, and sometimes it was better to skip class and sit with my back to a tree, thinking. There was a level of freedom from expectations and outside obligations that is somewhat unique to that phase of life, and should be embraced. Any dream was possible, and no one would crush it simply because they thought they knew who I was.

Maybe a lot of these lessons could be learned just as easily from moving somewhere not quite so "far, far" away. I have friends who remained closer to home and I don't think they have an identity crisis or anything like that. I can only relate my experience, and I know that I will encourage my children to test their wings somewhere "new" for at least a year when their time comes -- all the while fervently hoping they will return and stay close for the rest of their lives!

Unnecessary college

I am coming to believe that far too many people go to college. I almost feel like I was lied to as I finished high school and college (I am sure it was unintentional). I remember getting the message from many sources that if you just finish high school, you can get a better job...and then, if you just finish college, you can get the job of your dreams... You know what, I'm now on the other side of high school, college, and hopefully before long, graduate school -- and it's not true.

Don't get me wrong. I think a college education can be a valuable and wonderful thing. I do not even remotely regret the years I've spent in "higher" education. But I believe you should absolutely not go unless 1) you can do it debt-free, and 2) it can help you fulfill your passionate purpose in life in a direct and deliberate manner. I no longer believe that an "undeclared" major is acceptable, and while I must concede that I was undeclared for the first year, it was only because I couldn't choose between Physics and Biology. If you don't know what you're doing in college, get a job where you can meet people (preferably related to something you enjoy doing) and read, read, read until you find out what makes you come alive. If you can't stand reading, then get out and learn everything you can, hands-on, about something you love doing (and find a way to enjoy reading, while you're at it, but that's a post for another day).

Do you know what I did for the first year after obtaining my 3.99 GPA B.Sc. in Biology? I managed a Subway. This was a, shall we say, character-building experience, but it was hardly the dream job I had been promised if only I did well in college. The problem was, I didn't need a piece of paper that proved I could store and regurgitate a massive amount of information about immunology, ecology, evolution, microbiology, and molecular and cellular biology. I needed to know what I wanted to do with that information. A vision for your life is vastly more important than a college education, and cannot be replaced by a degree, no matter how fancy the scrollwork or heavy the paper. Some goals in life do require a college-level understanding and vocabulary, but it is a mistake to expect that simply having the degree will get you anywhere.

Tune in later this week for more college thoughts and reflections...(if my cold doesn't continue to beat me into a pulp, that is!)

Problem? Or Adventure?

Last night Aurelia had her first candlelit dinner at the table. Now, at 10 months and 2 weeks of age, I'm not sure how much she appreciated the experience. But considering the electricity was out when we walked in the door at 6:15, we didn't have many options! Fortunately I had cooked some hearty chicken and rice soup the night before, and my husband's quick thinking made it possible for us to heat up leftovers on our campstove. I chopped up some frozen avocado slices for Aurelia, warmed them in my hands, and we were ready to dine in style! We even lit the candle sconces on the wall that I haven't done anything with in ages (except dust them).

Shortly before baby's bedtime, the lights came back on -- so Jon and I were able to wind down and eat some brownies while watching an episode of Stargate: Atlantis on dvd instead of breaking out the cards. But it reminded me of the excitement of electricity going out when I was a child -- everyone getting together to play games around candles and oil lamps, wondering how long the dark would last, turning it all into a grand adventure. Or even in college, sitting in the dorm watching an unexpected snowstorm coming down outside the windows and hoping for an unplanned day of freedom from classes. Of course, in that last instance, my roommates and I ended up staying up until the wee hours eating delivered pepperoni pizza paid for with $5 of scrounged up laundry change and watching the news to see if campus was closed...only to fall asleep of exhaustion during Calculus 3 the next morning (okay, that last part was just me).

One of the greatest joys of my marriage is that Jon and I still turn "problems" into adventures. I trust that when our trailer tire blows out in the middle of nowhere (and trust me, Kahlotus is the middle of nowhere) and our 5-hour drive turns into a 24-hour journey involving an old gentleman who has had 5 heart attacks, his blind wife, an angle grinder, a second near-blow-out, and sleeping under the stars in the back of our 1974 truck...I trust that my husband can find a solution. I know that together, working as a team, we'll make it through whatever Murphy throws our way. And won't it be more interesting to tell this story to our grandchildren than if we had just had a simple drive to my parent's house? Of course! (Although we always check our tires diligently before heading out on the road now). 

The point is, all of our "adventures" together as husband and wife could have been horrible memories. But mutual trust and respect allowed us to meet each problem head-on as a team, and now we cherish those times together. Were we frustrated? You betcha. But we were frustrated together and could lean on each other and say "well, what are we going to do about it?". So next time you find yourself facing a curveball from Mister Murphy, stop for a moment and take a deep breath and know you're going to make it through -- and it may even turn into a fond recollection. You have a choice: allow the problem to tear down your relationship, or allow the adventure to build your marriage up. 

Why I want to have (several) children

I considered titling this post "Why Christian couples should want to have children", but I don't want to make it sound like I have it all figured out for everyone. Because I surely do not. Yet I've been thinking about this topic a lot, as I've come across so many women lately who say they've decided not to have children (while I'm standing there holding my wonderful, beloved daughter). So I decided to figure out exactly why I want children, and I've come to the conclusion that a desire for children is a natural result of being in a loving relationship with God. There, that didn't sound law-like, right? Let me explain.

My "epiphany" came, strangely enough, when I was reading The Shack. I had a hard time getting past the first few chapters of this book. Actually, I had decided to quit and put it off for another time because I couldn't handle the pain of Mack's loss -- at least not so close to the birth of my own daughter. But my mom told me it was worthwhile to continue, so I picked it up again. Without giving too much away, I'll say that one of the main themes of the story is the importance of relationship to God. Why did He create us, after all? Because He wants to live in relationship with us. His desire for this relationship with free-willed beings is so great that He allows sin and pain (consequences of bad choices) in the world. And for us humans, the greatest, deepest, most satisfying joy in life is to love God. I want to bring new life into this world because each child is one more person who will have the opportunity to know the wonder of that relationship, to know that God is good and marvelous and beautiful. 

Yes, I also want to share this gospel, this good news, with the people who already exist around me. But there is a special joy in the creation of a brand new life to share this knowledge with, and I personally can't imagine deliberately choosing a life without children. Does God sometimes call people to a life without marriage or children? Yes. At least, I believe so. Are those couples who are physically incapable of bearing children doomed to a life that is somehow less fulfilling? I believe not -- God has special graces for each of us. Or as Papa says in The Shack, He is "especially fond" of each of His children. Each life is entirely unique, and in a reflection of God's nature, I look forward to getting to know each of my children, even through the pain and sorrow that are bound to come along with the joys. 

Get out of context

I've always loved reading books. Even before I could read, I loved reading books. I'm told that one early birthday I had a pile of beautifully wrapped presents and a new (to me) little school desk with a short stack of books tied with a ribbon -- I ignored the presents completely and sat and turned the pages of my new books. So it's an affair that goes way back.

In middle school I discovered the small classic book section at my local library. Dumas' gallant heroes quickly became some of my favorite old friends. When I came to Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, however, I was greatly disappointed. I have never been able to get past my severe annoyance with the main characters. I felt that 1) they needed a good spanking, and 2) they needed to get out of the house! If Hindley, Heathcliff and Catherine just got away from Yorkshire for a few weeks and sat in the sun for a while, I'm convinced all would have ended well. And the book would have been vastly improved.

If you don't believe me, read The Enchanted April. (Or watch the movie, it's also wonderful!) One of the many lessons I'm drawing from the story this time through is that sometimes we need to take ourselves "out of context". The first morning after arriving at San Salvatore (an old Italian castle with wisteria and sunshine), Lottie remembers not wanting Lady Caroline to come because she thought she might be shy of her, or Mrs. Fisher because she seemed "lofty"...once she refreshed her perspective, she thought "what an odd reason to want to shut someone out of heaven! So funny to worry about such little things, making them important."

I don't know about you, but I catch myself making mountains out of molehills on a daily basis. Okay, make that an hourly basis. Sometimes I recognize my over-reaction before it gets out of hand (or even better, out of my mouth). Sometimes I don't. But I think that it's easier to give things their proper perspective when you take a vacation from your normal routine (even if the only vacation you can rustle up involves ten minutes closed up in a room with a vase of flowers and a cup of tea). Again in Lottie's words -- "...just think how much nicer we'll be when we come back!"

Of course, sometimes we put too little importance on the small things of life. Here's an excerpt from one of my favorite scenes from the same chapter of The Enchanted April:

She noticed things she had not noticed in years. When she was doing her hair in front of the mirror, she noticed it - and thought, "why, what pretty stuff!" For years she had forgotten she had such a thing as hair.

When was the last time you noticed your hair?

Just 15 minutes

I think today must be "Moms Feel (especially) Overwhelmed Day". I noticed several of my friends have set their facebook status to something along the lines of "needing a vacation", and many of the moms whose blogs I follow have been discussing how tired or overwhelmed they are - Brenda at The Family Revised described it well in her post earlier today. Being a mother involves quite the juggling act.

I know that while I was growing up, my mother was definitely the glue that held the family together (for that matter, she still is). When someone commented on that to her, it made her feel happy and appreciated -- and rightly so. I wish I had told her that more often. The problem with being glue, however, is that sometimes you get pulled and stretched in too many directions! And as Brenda mentioned in her post, while it's important to spend time doing things other than housework there are things that simply have to get done.

During the week, I leave the house at 7:45am (if we're not running behind...so about 10% of the time) and don't get home until 6:15 or so in the evening. Even those who are mathematically challenged can see that there's not much time left in the day to manage my home (especially after you factor in the time I spend expressing milk). Just the everyday maintenance -- laundry, dishes, vacuuming, picking up -- can be overwhelming! But something strange happens when you finally realize and accept that you can't get everything done. There's freedom in understanding that you just do what you can at the moment and then forget about the rest.

So here's how I approach housework: I have a magnetic dry erase board with a slot for each day of the week except Sunday. I made a magnet for each room in the house, plus a few miscellaneous house chores (like "meal prep"). At the beginning of each week, I write major events on the board, set up my meal schedule (I cook once every other night and have leftovers the next night), and then place the magnets on the days that have the most open space left. After dinner, dishes and laundry are done for the evening (often with my husband's invaluable help), I have to spend 15 minutes in each room listed on the schedule before I can relax. If for some reason I'm not done by 8:30pm, the magnet gets moved to the next open slot.

Oh, and Sundays are left off the board for a reason! All you can do is all you can do...and you can't give everything you have every day of the week. Sunday is for rest.

Wisdom for women, through the decades

Last weekend I broke down and spent $50 on an mp3 player for myself. I've been wanting one for a while, and not simply so I could have a cool new gadget (although that's fun too). I'm finishing up the first half of my research project at work/school right now, and unfortunately this is the most tedious portion of my work -- it involves a few hours every day of sitting and diluting cattle sera into about 100 little tubes and cutting tiny little strips out of the blot paper that has my protein in it. I honestly get so bored doing this that I forget to breathe. And even though there's no other way to get the data I need, and the end results will be interesting, it feels like wasted time to me. I've tried and tried to have a good attitude about this, to find a new perspective that will help me enjoy the work, because I believe we choose joy. But I haven't found a way to do that...until I got the mp3 player. (Note: This is in no way meant as an advertisement for mp3 players. Just wanted to clarify.)

I resisted the urge to immediately subscribe to audible.com and instead searched for free recordings of audiobooks and found librivox.org. I now have several classic books on my Sansa, along with the Dave Ramsey Show podcast, Sheila's new podcast at To Love, Honor and Vacuum, and perhaps the best find of all - the 1938 Good Housekeeping Marriage Book. I downloaded this recording partly out of curiosity and partly out of an expectation that it would be humorously out of date. Instead I found that it was shockingly relevant for the modern wife. Admittedly, there are some amusing ideas and references in the book, but in just a day of listening to the recording my marriage has improved. Seriously. The advice offered in these 70-year-old articles is frank, specific, useful and wise. 

I skipped the first few chapters, as they were for the courtship and engagement period, and started with a chapter written by Eleanor Roosevelt, entitled "Should Wives Work?". Of course, the first thing Eleanor stated was that the real question she was addressing was "should wives work outside the home," since being a wife is work! It's interesting to note that this was a question of interest even in the early part of the last century, as I tend to think this is a modern issue, and it is a pretty hot topic on "mom" blogs. There is much wisdom in the answer Eleanor offers, and I suggest you listen to the chapter yourself. I would like to note my reaction to her statement that a wife who works outside the home has two careers. 

First, I felt...relief. Relief at the outside recogntion that what I am attempting to do as a mom, wife, and graduate student, is hard. If I feel overwhelmed at times, it is not because I'm not good enough or energetic enough or efficient enough...it's because I'm really working two careers at the same time. Sometimes I just need someone to acknowledge that for me. 

Secondly, viewing "wife" as a career position altered my overall perspective of marriage. I hadn't really considered it in that light before. Motherhood, even homemaking in general, I had seen as fully satisfying (and demanding) career choices before, but not so for simply being a wife. How amazing might my marriage be if I put as much study and effort into it as I did for my PhD preliminary examination? What if I deliberately put time aside to study my husband -- his motivations, desires, weaknesses, strengths? And then acted on what I learned to support him in reaching his goals and dreams? 

Not that I want to view my marriage as a test to study for. I've had more than enough exams in my life and I can't tell you how happy I was when I finally finished my last formal class. But I think I've taken my wife career too casually. And the truth is, just like any other career where work and proper devotion will lead to promotions and greater benefits, so will being a better wife lead to greater joy and fulfillment in marriage -- for both of us.