Alright, I've seen many people post articles about how Thanksgiving shopping is horrible for several reasons. From what I've read, the main arguments seem to be that it takes away from family time and being thankful for what you have and a few throw in that it really sucks for the people who have to work.
Here's the thing: I agree that for some people it's all of those things- but as with most anything, I really believe it has a lot more to do with how you go about it.
For me, shopping on Thanksgiving Day is as old of a tradition as watching the Cowboys and having seconds on dessert. I can remember going to Kmart on Thanksgiving after lunch for about as long as I can remember. Whether we were at home, or we went to visit family it's just something I've always done. I don't go for anything in particular, it's just something the women in my family always did to get out of the house and walk off a little of what we ate. I think most years my mom ended up buying me new pajamas for the season since they always seem to run those on sale. The point is, going shopping wasn't taking away from our family time- it was CONTRIBUTING to it. It had nothing to do with consumerism or being ungrateful for what we had. It was just something to do, and we made memories out of it.
Black Friday is something special for my mom and me. We always spent the afternoon on Thanksgiving looking through ads and making a "game plan." It was usually elaborate with several stores, a schedule, list, and some color coding. Sure, we were out buying things for Christmas, but we were doing it with our family and friends in mind. We knew we could buy things later, but going to bed dressed and waking up in the middle of the night to go shiver in front of a store waiting for the doors to open came with a little magic. I don't remember many of the things we bought over the years- but I remember standing in line with my mom. I remember laughing and getting along even during the rough years when we didn't always get along. I remember being exhausted and sitting at IHOP with mom when we finished and having breakfast together. We have so many stories from the years that we spent shopping on the day after thanksgiving.
Personally, I am glad that stores have moved away from the 3am openings and instead opted for opening in the evening on Thanksgiving instead. It means that I can eat lunch, watch the Cowboys, sit around and talk with family, and then go to a few stores and come home to sleep before going back out the next morning. I always hated the zombie headache from not sleeping.
I don't think shopping around Thanksgiving has ever been about the "stuff" for us. It's always been about the tradition and memories. Sure, being able to afford slightly better gifts for friends and family was a nice plus, but it was never really about that. It's about the time we stood in line outside toys r us freezing off our bums and noticed one of our pastors in line just a few spaces away from us buying things for grandkids. Its about the year that target greeted all of their earlybird guests with coffee, cocoa and let shoppers in early because it was so cold . It's about the conversations we had while standing in line. It's about the people you meet in line and the sense of community we felt with those closest to us in line. For every person out shopping who is just there for the stuff, there are two other people who are there for the tradition- I know. I've met those people every year. For people like me, once a year, shopping isn't about the stuff- it's about all the people in the store whose story I learn. For all of the bad things I've seen, I've still seen so much more kindness on Black Friday in stores than any other day. The news doesn't ever show the guy at the front who passes something to a pregnant woman or the lady who passes her extra coupons out to other people in line. I have had so many strangers look out for me and lend a hand on Black Friday. For all those who watch the news and lose faith in humanity, I challenge you to go out and see if there isn't more to the story than just what you see on the news.
As far as the people who have to work go- I'm sorry. I know it stinks. Although in all fairness, you knew when you applied for the job that there was a really high possibility you might be working during part of the thanksgiving holiday. That's just part of retail. Most stores aren't opening on Thanksgiving until later in the day- so if you're like my family and have the big meal for lunch, you aren't missing out on the whole thing. If you work for Kmart- well, what can I say? They've opened early on Thanksgiving Day for as long as I can remember so anyone working there should have known.
These days the tradition has changed so that instead of making memories with my mom, I'm making memories with my husband. I hope someday that I will get to include Violet and make memories with her that she too will cherish for years to come.
So there you have it. Shopping doesn't have to be evil or take away from family time or fuel consumerism. It can just be about the experience. I'm probably replacing some tupperware and spending birthday money this year. I'm sure I'll make some great memories and maybe even meet some new people along the way.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
I should rename my kid awesome
I'm constantly blown away by the things I learn from Violet. She is so small and innocent and has no idea how her little actions and my vain attempts to provide for her have opened up my eyes to so many things about myself and the world. Some days, her revelations are world shattering for me. Other days, they are awesome in a whole different way.
Today we took her to the library for story time. It was our first time to ever take her and during the time, they sang a song that pretty much sums up my philosophy in regards to education in such a simple and happy way. I burst out in gleeful laughter (I was practically giddy inside) when I heard this song:
The more we read together, together, together
The more we read together, the happier we'll be
Cause books make you smarter
And smarter kids go farther
The more we read together, the happier we'll be
It's like the book nerd's theme song. Perfection.
She has pushed me to see that I can do things I didn't think I could. Not just mommy things like changing diapers that make me want to puke and putting up with screaming and crying that seems endless at times without ever once losing my cool, but bigger things. She pushed me to believe that I can be creative. She made me find my silly. She challenges me to be all of the things I never thought I could be but always hoped I might. She makes me awesome.
Today we took her to the library for story time. It was our first time to ever take her and during the time, they sang a song that pretty much sums up my philosophy in regards to education in such a simple and happy way. I burst out in gleeful laughter (I was practically giddy inside) when I heard this song:
The more we read together, together, together
The more we read together, the happier we'll be
Cause books make you smarter
And smarter kids go farther
The more we read together, the happier we'll be
It's like the book nerd's theme song. Perfection.
She has pushed me to see that I can do things I didn't think I could. Not just mommy things like changing diapers that make me want to puke and putting up with screaming and crying that seems endless at times without ever once losing my cool, but bigger things. She pushed me to believe that I can be creative. She made me find my silly. She challenges me to be all of the things I never thought I could be but always hoped I might. She makes me awesome.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Decisions...
When we grow up, we learn that life is grey. The right answer isn't always easy to find, and often, there is no right answer: just a small handful of choices, each with their own consequences.
I accepted this from the beginning in relation to parenthood. I know that even if I did everything "right" (as if that exists) it wouldn't matter, because if my child doesn't perceive my actions in the same manner that I intended them, then even the "right" actions could be wrong for my child. Are you with me? Rather than find this concept depressing or stressful, I find it freeing. It means that I can accept that my actions will at some point "screw my child up" in some way or another. It means I don't have to worry. I can parent according my convictions without worrying about every choice I make.
While I find it easy to accept the grey in regards to raising Violet, I have a harder time with it in other areas of life. Recently, we've found ourselves in the midst of financial turmoil. We've stressed over how we will pay our bills and feed our family and have gas in the car for Cameron to get back and forth to work. We've talked about him getting a second job (which is a bad idea right now since he's getting very little sleep working the night shift) and looked for other opportunities to earn money and reduce our bills. There is an "easy" solution to our financial woes: Cameron could go to work in the same industry he just left. The wrench comes in this: we need each other. Cameron and I NEED each other. DAILY. Violet NEEDS her daddy at home. We aren't the kind of couple who does well apart. We each make the other better, and without each other, we each become the worst versions of ourselves. The industry he just left required A LOT of travel. Too much. We can't go back to that.
You see, we have convictions about how our family ought to operate. For us, we need to be together. We need to see each other every day. We need time together regularly. We both believe it is best for all of us if I am a stay at home mom. How do we get it all? How do we manage to have family time AND enough money to pay the bills and feed our family? Enter the grey area.
We made choices that will effect our future. We are trusting that God has provided us the resources to make it through today and that He will continue to provide for us each day- even if that means walking into the future without knowing exactly how things will work out.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.
Try shining a light down by your foot in a dark room and see how far the light reaches. I can tell you. It's just far enough to take the next step.
That's enough for me.
I accepted this from the beginning in relation to parenthood. I know that even if I did everything "right" (as if that exists) it wouldn't matter, because if my child doesn't perceive my actions in the same manner that I intended them, then even the "right" actions could be wrong for my child. Are you with me? Rather than find this concept depressing or stressful, I find it freeing. It means that I can accept that my actions will at some point "screw my child up" in some way or another. It means I don't have to worry. I can parent according my convictions without worrying about every choice I make.
While I find it easy to accept the grey in regards to raising Violet, I have a harder time with it in other areas of life. Recently, we've found ourselves in the midst of financial turmoil. We've stressed over how we will pay our bills and feed our family and have gas in the car for Cameron to get back and forth to work. We've talked about him getting a second job (which is a bad idea right now since he's getting very little sleep working the night shift) and looked for other opportunities to earn money and reduce our bills. There is an "easy" solution to our financial woes: Cameron could go to work in the same industry he just left. The wrench comes in this: we need each other. Cameron and I NEED each other. DAILY. Violet NEEDS her daddy at home. We aren't the kind of couple who does well apart. We each make the other better, and without each other, we each become the worst versions of ourselves. The industry he just left required A LOT of travel. Too much. We can't go back to that.
You see, we have convictions about how our family ought to operate. For us, we need to be together. We need to see each other every day. We need time together regularly. We both believe it is best for all of us if I am a stay at home mom. How do we get it all? How do we manage to have family time AND enough money to pay the bills and feed our family? Enter the grey area.
We made choices that will effect our future. We are trusting that God has provided us the resources to make it through today and that He will continue to provide for us each day- even if that means walking into the future without knowing exactly how things will work out.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.
Try shining a light down by your foot in a dark room and see how far the light reaches. I can tell you. It's just far enough to take the next step.
That's enough for me.
Monday, October 7, 2013
It took this long
I am a writer. I'm 26 years old. I spent my elementary years at home filling journals with ridiculous stories (mostly about animals). I spent my middle school years filling journals with really bad poetry. I spent most of high school and college writing about my life and using it to learn to deal with my past and the things in life that have challenged me most.
Yet, until yesterday morning, I never once would have said that I am a writer. I didn't believe I was talented enough to even try out for the high school newspaper. While many teachers read my academic papers aloud while growing up, I never considered my work worthy of notice. I'm published in a few academic journals that I don't really consider worth much. When I was in high school I even had a member of the administration believe in my ability enough to contact a personal friend, and send samples of my writing to a professional who wrote back to me and offered assistance. Still, I never considered myself a writer.
I felt like I wasn't good enough. Why? Because there was always someone better. Because the words never came out of me as beautifully as they did for Charis Boylan, and I couldn't come up with metaphors like Charlotte Dunlap, and I wasn't as creative as Elise Barret. I've never kidded myself into believing that I might ever write anything of consequence.
Yesterday morning,, while I was at church sitting in a room full of people, I found myself wishing for just a moment that I could be the person I am on paper. That was when I realized that being a writer doesn't mean I'm the best, or even that I'm good. It doesn't require notoriety or even being published. It just means that I write. I write because it's the only way I can express myself in a way that feels true to who I am.
I'm overly verbose, I need every piece edited about a thousand times, and by the end, almost every sentence has to be rewritten, but I am a writer. I may never finish the book I've started, and even if I do, no one may ever read it. I am still a writer.
It feels good.
P.S. note I did not claim to be an editor :) I am fully aware of my MANY editorial mistakes in my posts
Yet, until yesterday morning, I never once would have said that I am a writer. I didn't believe I was talented enough to even try out for the high school newspaper. While many teachers read my academic papers aloud while growing up, I never considered my work worthy of notice. I'm published in a few academic journals that I don't really consider worth much. When I was in high school I even had a member of the administration believe in my ability enough to contact a personal friend, and send samples of my writing to a professional who wrote back to me and offered assistance. Still, I never considered myself a writer.
I felt like I wasn't good enough. Why? Because there was always someone better. Because the words never came out of me as beautifully as they did for Charis Boylan, and I couldn't come up with metaphors like Charlotte Dunlap, and I wasn't as creative as Elise Barret. I've never kidded myself into believing that I might ever write anything of consequence.
Yesterday morning,, while I was at church sitting in a room full of people, I found myself wishing for just a moment that I could be the person I am on paper. That was when I realized that being a writer doesn't mean I'm the best, or even that I'm good. It doesn't require notoriety or even being published. It just means that I write. I write because it's the only way I can express myself in a way that feels true to who I am.
I'm overly verbose, I need every piece edited about a thousand times, and by the end, almost every sentence has to be rewritten, but I am a writer. I may never finish the book I've started, and even if I do, no one may ever read it. I am still a writer.
It feels good.
P.S. note I did not claim to be an editor :) I am fully aware of my MANY editorial mistakes in my posts
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
One of those
Today is already one of those days… the ones where things
just seem to go wonky. Yes wonky. Don’t judge my choice of words. It’s not that
things are necessarily wrong, but rather that they just aren’t quite how you
expected them to be.
This morning when I woke up (after 8am) I quickly realized
that my husband must have accidently unplugged the baby monitor last night. I could hear my baby crying across the hall … meaning she must have been awake for
quite a while. She had a leg sticking out of the crib. She spent an entire hour eating her bottle
(which is just ridiculous). Afterwards, she pooped in her just changed diaper.
While changing her diaper, I got poop on my finger. Totally didn’t freak out. I’m
pretty proud of myself for that one. I went to the bathroom after getting her
changed and realized that my underwear was on inside out… I put them on in the
dark. Yeah. Oh, and at the moment, I’m typing this in Microsoft word with the
intention of pasting it into my blog later because apparently my internet has
no intention of working this morning. Yep, this is definitely one of those
days.
I’ve had quite a bit of “wonkiness” in my life lately. For
those of you haven’t heard, my husband is currently unemployed. Oddly, our
incredible lack of income and increasing reality of not being able to pay the
bills isn’t really bothering me. I just assume that God is going to work it
out. The day he found out “officially” that he was losing his job, he was
offered the opportunity to work with a guy from our church while he’s in
between jobs and the guy has the extra work. It’s not a long term job, nor is
it one that will actually support our family in the meantime- but it is
something, which is more than nothing- and it reinforces my belief that God
will take care of us.
Monday was my first time to go to MOPs. I’m going to try my best not to make any
opinions on the program based on my first time. I will say this though- I hope
they are serious about the whole “bless this mess” theme, because my house
(every single room and hallway) is a complete disaster, and on my way out the
door, I wiped my baby’s face with a clean diaper because it was all I could
find. (Monday was also one of those days).
So if you’re having one of those days, weeks, months, or
even years… you’re not alone. I’ve had this little kid song stuck in my head
for over a week now:
(From “My First Hymnal: 75 Favorite Bible Songs”)
Look at the flowers in the field
They don’t sow or shop for clothes
If God takes care of flowers in the field,
He will take care of you.
Don’t worry, don’t worry
God will take care of you.
Don’t worry, don’t worry
God will take care of you.
P.S. if you happen to know of a job opening with great pay and benefits, feel free to pass on the info :)
P.S. if you happen to know of a job opening with great pay and benefits, feel free to pass on the info :)
Friday, August 23, 2013
What it's really like
I just got off the phone with Cameron. He isn't coming home tonight.We thought he would be coming home for the weekend. I had planned special meals and went to the grocery store so I would have everything we need. I cleaned the litter boxes so he wouldn't feel like he needed to when he got home. I worked on getting Violet's laundry done so the washer and dryer would be free for his clothes. I really wanted to see him. I was looking forward to waking up with my husband for a night or two. I HATE having him gone.
I love my little Violet, and I appreciate that I have her to hold when I want a hug and her to distract me when I'm desperately missing my best friend, but at the same time- she's a lot of work by myself. It's hard to have her 24/7. I'm still new at parenting. She's not even five months yet. The girls in my lifegroup do an evening bible study- something I'd really like to be able to do- but I can't, because I have Violet. I'm tired in the evenings and really just want to take some time out for myself, but that's right about the time when Violet needs to eat, and take a bath, and play, and read a story... and on and on and on. Don't get me wrong, I love singing with her and cuddling her, and taking care of my baby. I love her. She brings me great joy- but it's still work.She's teething right now, and fusses a lot, and needs a ton of attention to distract her from the pain she's experiencing. I get tired.
I wanted to seem like I was alright on the phone- because I know he's not. But as soon as I hung up, know that I cried like a baby, thankful that Violet was asleep in her room. I just want him home. I want to feel like I'm not alone.
His job is a blessing. His job is a blessing. His job is a blessing. This is what I have to remember over and over. God gave him this job. This job provides what we need in a way unlike anything else we can think of would given Cameron's experience and education. Until God
tells us Cameron needs to go in a different direction work wise, this is where we are. Traveling is part of the job. Last minute changes to "the plan" is also part of the job. His job is a blessing... It's just hard.
If there is a song in the world that describes my life at almost all points it's this one:
"Strong Enough"- Matthew West
You must
You must think I'm strong
To give me what I'm going through
Well, forgive me
Forgive me if I'm wrong
But this looks like more than I can do
On my own
I know I'm not strong enough to be
everything that I'm supposed to be
I give up
I'm not strong enough
Hands of mercy won't you cover me
Lord right now I'm asking you to be
Strong enough
Strong enough
For the both of us
Well, maybe
Maybe that's the point
To reach the point of giving up
Cause when I'm finally
Finally at rock bottom
Well, that's when I start looking up
And reaching out
I know I'm not strong enough to be
Everything that I'm supposed to be
I give up
I'm not strong enough
Hands of mercy won't you cover me
Lord right now I'm asking you to be
Strong enough
Strong enough
Cause I'm broken
Down to nothing
But I'm still holding on to the one thing
You are God
and you are strong
When I am weak
I can do all things
Through Christ who gives me strength
And I don't have to be
Strong enough
Strong enough
I love my little Violet, and I appreciate that I have her to hold when I want a hug and her to distract me when I'm desperately missing my best friend, but at the same time- she's a lot of work by myself. It's hard to have her 24/7. I'm still new at parenting. She's not even five months yet. The girls in my lifegroup do an evening bible study- something I'd really like to be able to do- but I can't, because I have Violet. I'm tired in the evenings and really just want to take some time out for myself, but that's right about the time when Violet needs to eat, and take a bath, and play, and read a story... and on and on and on. Don't get me wrong, I love singing with her and cuddling her, and taking care of my baby. I love her. She brings me great joy- but it's still work.She's teething right now, and fusses a lot, and needs a ton of attention to distract her from the pain she's experiencing. I get tired.
I wanted to seem like I was alright on the phone- because I know he's not. But as soon as I hung up, know that I cried like a baby, thankful that Violet was asleep in her room. I just want him home. I want to feel like I'm not alone.
His job is a blessing. His job is a blessing. His job is a blessing. This is what I have to remember over and over. God gave him this job. This job provides what we need in a way unlike anything else we can think of would given Cameron's experience and education. Until God
tells us Cameron needs to go in a different direction work wise, this is where we are. Traveling is part of the job. Last minute changes to "the plan" is also part of the job. His job is a blessing... It's just hard.
If there is a song in the world that describes my life at almost all points it's this one:
"Strong Enough"- Matthew West
You must
You must think I'm strong
To give me what I'm going through
Well, forgive me
Forgive me if I'm wrong
But this looks like more than I can do
On my own
I know I'm not strong enough to be
everything that I'm supposed to be
I give up
I'm not strong enough
Hands of mercy won't you cover me
Lord right now I'm asking you to be
Strong enough
Strong enough
For the both of us
Well, maybe
Maybe that's the point
To reach the point of giving up
Cause when I'm finally
Finally at rock bottom
Well, that's when I start looking up
And reaching out
I know I'm not strong enough to be
Everything that I'm supposed to be
I give up
I'm not strong enough
Hands of mercy won't you cover me
Lord right now I'm asking you to be
Strong enough
Strong enough
Cause I'm broken
Down to nothing
But I'm still holding on to the one thing
You are God
and you are strong
When I am weak
I can do all things
Through Christ who gives me strength
And I don't have to be
Strong enough
Strong enough
Friday, August 9, 2013
Surprisingly Good
How did this happen? Somehow I, Amber Jaeger, major homebody, anti social, lazy girl have stumbled in a happily active life.
This week alone Violet and I have been to the dentist, chiropractor, several walks, several stores, the gym 4 times already, had a friend over, and went to Tyler for a funeral (btw, NEVER take a 4month old to a funeral). This amounts to about the same amount of activity I would typically have in a MONTH... usually with help from my mom and Cameron.
At the same time, Violet has become insanely active. She can now roll both directions and on her side, she can scooch around in circles and short distances... apparently with Lola bunny in tow, and she is constantly squirming. She plays more, talks more, sings, and has lots of fun in the morning before I come in for her- I can only assume she is telling jokes to Lola bunny that crack her up, because I hear her giggling over the monitor.
For reasons beyond my own comprehension, I have also become more active. Did you note the 4 times to the gym this week already? For my entire life I have HATED physical activity. I am scared of balls, which knocks out most sports, I hate running, which knocks out most other sports, and I live too far from snow- so skiing isn't an option. The only consistent physical activity I've ever been able to do is walking. Yet, for some reason I decided we should suck it up, make room in our budget, and join a gym. Then, I went... and liked it. I actually feel good after working out. It's like it makes me happy. Weird. I know. Endorphins, blah blah blah... I suppose people were right.
Not only are we physically active, but I, of my own volition, have planned two trips for Violet and I in the next month:one to west Texas to see some of my extended family, and then one to Idaho to see some of Cameron's extended family. I am voluntarily leaving my safe, comfortable, little home to see other people. If you know me at all, you're probably wondering where Amber is and seriously considering the validity of alien abductions.
I really think God has used Violet to bring me back to life. I read my bible more, pray more, sing more, read more, move more, eat better... and I don't even think about it. These aren't conscious decisions, but rather, the logical consequences of being a mommy. I don't know what I was doing before, but I really believe it was NOT the abundant life Christ died for me to have. This life: being active, giggling with my daughter, spending time with my family, flirting with my husband, and remembering God's word...this is good.
This week alone Violet and I have been to the dentist, chiropractor, several walks, several stores, the gym 4 times already, had a friend over, and went to Tyler for a funeral (btw, NEVER take a 4month old to a funeral). This amounts to about the same amount of activity I would typically have in a MONTH... usually with help from my mom and Cameron.
At the same time, Violet has become insanely active. She can now roll both directions and on her side, she can scooch around in circles and short distances... apparently with Lola bunny in tow, and she is constantly squirming. She plays more, talks more, sings, and has lots of fun in the morning before I come in for her- I can only assume she is telling jokes to Lola bunny that crack her up, because I hear her giggling over the monitor.
For reasons beyond my own comprehension, I have also become more active. Did you note the 4 times to the gym this week already? For my entire life I have HATED physical activity. I am scared of balls, which knocks out most sports, I hate running, which knocks out most other sports, and I live too far from snow- so skiing isn't an option. The only consistent physical activity I've ever been able to do is walking. Yet, for some reason I decided we should suck it up, make room in our budget, and join a gym. Then, I went... and liked it. I actually feel good after working out. It's like it makes me happy. Weird. I know. Endorphins, blah blah blah... I suppose people were right.
Not only are we physically active, but I, of my own volition, have planned two trips for Violet and I in the next month:one to west Texas to see some of my extended family, and then one to Idaho to see some of Cameron's extended family. I am voluntarily leaving my safe, comfortable, little home to see other people. If you know me at all, you're probably wondering where Amber is and seriously considering the validity of alien abductions.
I really think God has used Violet to bring me back to life. I read my bible more, pray more, sing more, read more, move more, eat better... and I don't even think about it. These aren't conscious decisions, but rather, the logical consequences of being a mommy. I don't know what I was doing before, but I really believe it was NOT the abundant life Christ died for me to have. This life: being active, giggling with my daughter, spending time with my family, flirting with my husband, and remembering God's word...this is good.
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