Family – Page 2 – anne m. wilson

i work in threes

A few years ago, a bright-eyed, blonde girl with the last name “Durham” decided it’d be a really clever idea to get married, move cities, and graduate from college all within three weeks. Everyone looked at her like she was insane. And she was.

Almost four years later, that same girl was confronted with having her first baby, raising said baby, and leaving one job and starting another (which also meant changing churches) all within three months.

Okay, I can’t write in third person anymore.

Seriously, life kicked our butt in April. But all I can say is I truly have never been more grateful (and excited) for any season of life. We love getting to know this little guy, and I am stupefyingly blessed for this new adventure as a writer. Oh, don’t worry–I have frequent moments where panic ensues and I think, “Am I cut out for this?” But then I pause, breathe, and remember to release control. I choose to show up and believe that God will equip me for the place He has brought me.

We’re thankful. And tired. So I ask you to bear with us, again, as blogging may be on the sporadic (and random) side of life over the next month or so.

Until then, here’s a picture to hold you over.

transitions

It’s been a life-changing 9 weeks. We feel so blessed and honored that God gave us the gift of being parents to Keegan. Let’s be real, it’s also been hard. There have been a lot of late nights, early mornings, and days I’ve gone without brushing my teeth.

When we found out we were pregnant, we immediately began praying that God would guide us as we made decisions for how to parent Keegan. In 2 Chronicles 20, there’s a story about young Jehosaphat defeating Moab and Ammon. I am not comparing our journey into parenthood to the battle Jehosaphat faced (although . . . just kidding), but I do resonate with his plea and crying out to God. When he found out that an army was attacking him, Scripture says that Jehosaphat was afraid, so he “set his face to seek the Lord.” He then called everyone together to seek help from the Lord, and they came from every town in Judah to seek him.

Scripture paints us a picture of Jehosaphat trusting and proclaiming God’s providence–that He was maker and ruler of all and that although he was afraid, and he did not know what to do, his eyes were focused on God.

I made a little bookmark with this very phrase, and placed it in every book I devoured over the course of pregnancy:

“We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

I am the kind of person that invests wholeheartedly in everything I do. I fail, a lot. But I try to invest wholeheartedly in my relationship with Jesus, my marriage, and my role as a youth pastor. When I became a mom, I quickly realized that the wholehearted way of life poured into motherhood, and that another role was added to the mix.

I am a child of God first. That has always been the case.

But now I am a mother, and it has changed everything.

And so, I asked God to make clear to me what I should do . . . if I could still be a youth pastor and a mom, if I could still do everything I did before with this new little person in our lives. Through it all, I felt overwhelmingly peaceful that He was going to give an answer, I just had no idea what it would be. Could I do this part-time? Should I go back full-time? Should I stay home with Keegan? Ultimately, we decided that I couldn’t come back as a full-time youth pastor.

I knew I couldn’t come back for one, big reason: I would be of no good to anyone. I wouldn’t serve Chapel Rock well, I wouldn’t serve students well, and I wouldn’t serve my family well. I don’t want to be a frazzled mess every Sunday, biting people’s heads off because I only slept two hours the night before. And I certainly don’t want to be a frazzled mess to my family, coming home exhausted and then only giving Keegan leftovers. He deserves more than that. Kyle does, too.

We prayed and waited patiently, as well as pouring ourselves into the word of God more than ever. From the first day I committed my life to ministry, I never expected that part of the story would be a ministry of motherhood. I guessed I would be a mother, sure. But I didn’t realize that motherhood would be a ministry.

I asked God to give me an opportunity to serve the Kingdom and be a mom. I didn’t know how that could work, but I prayed for it anyway.

He gave it.

In two weeks, I will start my new role at Traders Point Christian Church as a part-time writer for their Communications team. I will get to work from home a majority of the week, be a mom to Keegan, and give to the local church in a way that uses my gifts and passions. We are excited for this new season ahead of us, but it also means that we will be leaving Chapel Rock, and so we leave with conflicted emotions of gratitude and sadness.

To Chapel Rock: you have been all we have known as a married couple. I became “Anne Wilson” here. I learned to love people better because of mistakes I made here (I made many). You all listened to terrible sermons and made me a better communicator with your sleepy eyes. You pushed me to serve people in deeper ways because of the ways I have watched you serve others. We are sad to see this season end. But we’re not moving. We still very much hope to be a part of your lives, just in a different way. We won’t be at Chapel Rock anymore, but we will still be in Sunningdale. Thank you for all that you have given Kyle and me. We follow Jesus more deeply because of you.

bread & wine: review

As a long-time fan of Shauna Niequist, I was ecstatic to receive Bread & Wine a couple of months early to read and review. Don’t tell her, but in my mind, we’re actually really close friends and her books are just emails she’s written to me.

Is that indicative of how brilliant she is as a writer, or just creepy of me? I’ll never know.

Anyway, as my life would have it, I received it about three days after giving birth, so it took me a while to pick it up. Okay, I lied. I picked it up that day, but cried almost enough tears to fill the Nile River through the introduction, so I decided my hormones needed some space.

Nearly two months and happy hormones later, I got to reading. And for the first fifty pages or so, I started feeling ravenous/overwhelmed, and thought to myself, “I picked the wrong time to read a book about life around the table.” Lately I’ve been caught stuffing PB&J down my face around 2pm, after I realize I have forsaken lunch. I kept wishing I could bring a post full of pictures of a fancy dinner party, with laughter, lush appetizers and way too much dessert. Then I read this on page 71…

“We all have those stretches–busy parenting seasons where the nights feel like a blink and the days wear on and on, or work deadlines that throw off our routines, or extended family commitments that pull us in a thousand directions. What heals me on those days when it all feels chaotic and swirling is the simplicity of home, morning prayer, tea, and breakfast quinoa.”

And hope was restored.

So early Easter morning, I got up and adventurous with some delicious breakfast quinoa.
Here’s how.

First, take a trip to Trader Joe’s.

Here’s what’s in the bag:

You’ll need approximately 4 eggs, 1 large onion, a package of chicken apple sausage, 2 cups quinoa, 4 cups water, 1 tablespoon olive oil, goat cheese, and salt and pepper to taste.

A protein explosion, basically.

Next, get out your copy of Bread & Wine and turn to page 72. Wipe the olive oil/tears/grease off the page and get to cooking.

Slice and soften the onion in olive oil in a pan over medium-low heat. Then slice the sausage and add it to the same pan. Watch it cook and let your mouth water.

Next, make sure you occupy your baby/dog/spouse/roommate. And take a few photos of them.

Pour quinoa and water into a small pot. Bring it to a boil, then turn the heat down to simmer for about 15 minutes. Fluff with a fork and let it cool for 5 minutes. Oh, and start the tea.

Scoop quinoa into bowls and then stir a scoop of onions and sausage slices into each one. In the onion & sausage pan, prepare the eggs however you wish–fried or scrambled. We chose scrambled, and we also cheated. The recipe calls for one egg per bowl, we went with two. After they’re cooked, scoop those on top of the rest and add a handful of goat cheese to each bowl.

Eat it by yourself with a book and cup of tea, at the table with your spouse, or on your front porch with friends. Then go buy Bread & Wine, and whatever season you find yourself in . . . entertaining friends, survival-mode, or in-need-of-spiritual-refreshment, read. Then cook. Then eat your way back to sanity.

i forgot to brush my teeth

It was four in the afternoon, and suddenly it dawned on me:

I haven’t brushed my teeth today.

“There is nothing that brings you face-to-face with your own selfishness more than parenthood,” Amanda said sympathetically. “I never knew just how selfish I was until there was a little person that constantly needed me.”

Amanda wasn’t the only one that lovingly warned me about the soul-refining process of parenthood. Everyone tried. But there’s no context for understanding just how much, in the most beautiful and bittersweet way, parenting takes the life right out of you.

About a month ago, when Keegan was almost three weeks old, we took a Saturday trip to Trader Joe’s. Keegan was asleep, I needed to leave the dungeon formerly known as our home, and Kyle–well, I think he just needed to see daylight. As soon as we pulled up, Keegan started fussing, so Kyle motioned for me to go on in, solo, while he stayed in the car with the boy. I wandered around the aisles, with lots of phrases popping up above my head…

So this is what society is like…

Am I drunk?

Did I even make a grocery list?

I wonder if I’ll have time to eat that.

Is this a banana?

Am I dreaming or is this real life?

The sleep-deprivation was insurmountable at that point, and if anyone contacted me in those first three weeks, well, I’m sorry. There’s no excuse other than I didn’t know my name most days, and the physical recovery of a major surgery + a newborn that wouldn’t eat was, well, a ~~lot~~ tad overwhelming. Looking back, it’s actually pretty funny. I am positive the people who passed me in the fruit section were questioning whether I was sober/alive/not homeless.

Some women waltz into parenthood, singing lullabies to their sleeping angel and asking themselves how life ever existed before him. If you are this mother, you are going to want to stop reading now. (I am so happy for you, by the way, I just know you’re probably not going to like this next part.) Will you allow me some space to be this honest? That was not me. I wish it was. Don’t get me wrong: I instantly loved Keegan. I constantly just stared at him, morning and night, putting my hand on his chest to feel him breathe.

But I also cried. Every day. Every hour. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t recognize myself. The baby blues were no stinking joke. I’m pretty sure hormones were flying out of our windows.

And then one morning, like the spring that should have arrived a few weeks ago, I woke up and said I can do this. God has equipped me to do this. I am woman, hear me mother. While feeding him that afternoon, I said aloud to my son, “Keegan, buddy, we’re going to make it.” Amanda was right; there’s nothing like it. Parenting is painfully, unpredictably beautiful. So I told him that day how hard this had been, how sorry I was for not being fully present just yet, and how much his little face made my heart swell up to the size of a hot-air balloon.

Then I went and brushed my teeth.

Photo credit to Nathan & Ashley Siner Photography & Design (www.thesiners.com).
Like them on Facebook here: www.facebook.com/nathanandashleysinerphotographyanddesign

the (good) details

I’ve written so little about our birth experience because frankly, I needed time and space to process it all. Not only physically–but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I am different because of my childbirth experience, and I knew I was different when I woke up the next morning. So, here is our story, from what I have gathered so far.

We went in on Sunday, February 3rd at 8pm to start the induction. I will spare you the grimy details of everything involved, but by 5am the next morning, contractions started and were coming on strong, so we moved to the next step in the induction process. At around 3pm on Monday, I had hardly progressed and Keegan’s heart rate was all over the place, so my doctor talked to us about the possibility of a C-Section. Around 4pm, she broke my water and within two hours, I had fully progressed and was ready to push. Once again, I will not make you endure the details, but three hours later, Keegan had not budged, and a C-Section was no longer a hypothetical but a necessity, and we prepared ourselves for surgery.

There are a lot of details about that day that I will never forget, but there are two that stand out so crystal-clear in my memory that have forever changed me. One has to do with a little green line, and the other my husband’s right hand.

From the time we started the induction, our nurse pointed us to the monitor which showed Keegan’s heart rate, my heart rate, and my contractions. Keegan’s heart rate was bright green, and mine was a vague taupe color, directly below his. All evening long, and all day Monday, it was all I could do to not watch that little green line. I knew in my mind that nurses were keeping track, and that alarms would go off if anything went wrong, but I could not–for more than a few minutes at the longest–keep my eyes and mind off that little green line. I needed to watch him, to see him as I prayed for his little body to be healthy and whole. In a time where I felt absolutely out of control, the only thing I could manage was watching that green line.

And the second? My husband’s right hand. Throughout the entire process, he sat to my left and held my left hand with his right, coached me through it, encouraged me, and prayed over us.

I became a mother while watching that little green line. Over 9 and 1/2 months of pregnancy, my heart slowly began the process of nurturing and protecting this little one. But in watching that green line, my heart became consumed by it. And I have never been more in love with my husband than on that day, and will never forget when we heard his first cry in the OR. It was the sweetest moment of relief that I will forever cherish, and he is the only one that can replay it with me.

When I look back on days of my life, I hope to remember the small details that affected me greatly. And on this day? It was a little green line that became my son, and my husband’s right hand that became my strength.

longing and begging

It’s December 17th, we are right in the season of Advent, and I can’t recall a time I have longed for Jesus so badly.
This week has been nothing short of longing.
Longing for hope, peace, and anything that remotely resembles joy.

And this is just my little life.

One of my friends had her heart ripped out of her chest on Tuesday morning, discovering that the little boy she thought was going to be hers was in fact not anymore. They call it adoption reversal, which sounds like a cold way of saying, “You can’t have your baby anymore.” Her and her husband are now grieving parents, with nothing to show for it except empty hearts, pockets, and bedrooms.

That same morning, my other dear friend told me she and her husband went into hear the heartbeat for the first time of her precious 12-week-old, and the nurses “found nothing.” And used the cold, non-empathetic words, “this is not a viable pregnancy.” I don’t know who invented that phrase, but they should probably redo that year of their life. I can’t imagine a more lifeless phrase when telling a woman who dreams of being a mother that she is, in fact, not.

On Tuesday afternoon, one of my family members suffered from a mild stroke, which leads to lots of challenging conversations and rearrangements as they navigate what to do in this next very unknown phase of life.

Again, this is my little life.
I know suffering is everywhere.
I’m not blind to it.

I read the prayer requests every Tuesday afternoon in our staff meeting . . . heartbreak after heartbreak, loss after loss, and sometimes my heart gets so swollen I cry right there, in a conference room with gray walls and business suits.

And again, this is only my little corner, with the faces I know and love.
I know it’s everywhere.

On Friday afternoon, I got a text from my husband that said, “Try not to saturate yourself with the media coverage of this.” Of what!? I immediately turned on the news, ignoring his caring request, to find the horror that the rest of you saw and for a minute I said right out loud, in the stillness of my living room, “What in the world is going on?”

All of this coupled with joy–visiting with friends late Sunday evening, eating cinnamon popcorn, laughing about nothing and then eating some more. Listening to my sweet baby’s heartbeat today at the doctor’s office, and hearing, “You and the baby are getting along perfectly,” as I breathe relief because let’s face it, this seems like the week people are supposed to get bad news.

I’ve read Brene Brown‘s wise words about not selectively numbing emotion, about how you can’t numb pain without also getting rid of joy . . . and so I have fully embraced the pain that surrounds me, knowing that without it I cannot receive full joy.

But I confess that I long for Christ in a way I never have before. I long for Him to heal my friends, heal these hearts, and to bind up wounds. I long for Him to bring about restoration in the midst of darkness, and then I stop right where I’m sitting because I remember . . .

He came into darkness.

He was not surrounded by a world full of rainbows, unicorns, and butterflies. He was born right into a dark, unknown world, full of uncertainty and hatred, and yet He was called the Prince of Peace.

And this year, I long for Him.

I long for Him to hold my friends that sit with an empty nursery, to hold their hearts tightly and whisper into their pain and hear their angry questions. I long for Him to heal my sweet friend and her husband, whose entire paradigm of life is now something I cannot imagine, fathom, or begin to understand.

I long for Him to usher in peace to the little corners of our worlds, in the brokenhearted places we dare not say aloud. And during this season of Advent, I am not ashamed in my questioning, no–begging.

Christ, I beg of you to come close.

We beg you to be close to us.

halfway there odds & ends

I don’t promise this will be beautiful or life-changing. I do promise you will feel caught up on our life. So if you are here for the former and not the latter, I am going to go ahead and offer my sincerest apologies.

Lots of people have asked some repeated questions, so I figured I’d make some space on our blog to answer them. Not that I mind answering them, or even talking about them! Just if you’ve wondered but haven’t had the opportunity to ask, or forgot what I said, here you go.

How are you feeling?
I hesitate to say this, but I’m feeling great! It must be all that 2nd-Trimester-bliss I kept hearing about in my 1st. Truly, I love being pregnant. When I first found out I was pregnant, my sister-in-law, Sheyenne, gave me some of the best advice that I still remember in the early mornings: cherish every day of your pregnancy, and enjoy every moment God allows you to carry this child. If you know Sheyenne’s story, you know she doesn’t utter these words flippantly. So I have really tried my hardest to do that. I try to dress like a normal human, even when I feel rotten, and say things that express how grateful I am. I am learning about myself that my default is to say the negative first, which has been a little lesson in humility. With our pregnancy, I’ve made an intentional effort to talk about the positive, because I know pregnancy is not something I’m entitled to, and I want to adequately express my gratitude for this baby.

Did you plan on getting pregnant?
I’ll put it this way: we went to an Adoption Conference on May 18th & 19th (that we registered for in February). We found out we were pregnant on May 16th. :) PS-We still plan on adopting, as that has always been the plan. The when, where, and how are still very foggy, however.

Have you chosen his name yet?
We have landed on a name, but we’re keeping it to ourselves! This was a decision we made before we even found out we were pregnant. I hear people criticized for name choices all the time, and I knew before embarking on this journey that’s not something I wanted to add to the height of pregnancy emotion. So, we have our name, we’re not giving any hints, and you will be sure to find out when he’s born! (No, his name is not table, apple, lamp-post, chair, or some other odd object.)

What are you doing about work?
Short answer: we don’t know. For the long answer, click here. Yep, I still have no idea. Just praying and taking it one day at a time. I love what I do, so we’ll just see!

Are you still throwing up?
Nope. Remember the 2nd-Trimester-Bliss I referred to? The days of nausea-all-day-long are over, and I am loving it.

Those are all the repeat-questions I can think of for now. If you have any others, feel free to throw them my way!

things to say (and things to not)

In my short 16 weeks of pregnancy, I have gained a little insight and perspective into the danger and beauty of spoken word. Words can encourage, brighten, make light, and speak truth. Words hold the power to make people laugh, pee their pants, and slap their knees.

But words can also be… not-so-good. Most are well-intentioned, just not thought through. Allow me to give you a short, compiled list of things that have either been said to me (or a woman I know) during pregnancy, and we’re all thinking, “Hmm. I could’ve gone without hearing that.”

So here is my brief list of things to say, and things to not, to a pregnant woman. I don’t care what “kind” of pregnant woman she is–the “all belly” kind, or the one who gains it everywhere BUT her belly, here is my short list.

Things NOT to say . . .
“I knew you were pregnant because normally you’re pretty skinny, and I noticed you’re a little thick.”

“I know this friend who has this friend who (insert incredibly traumatic pregnancy/miscarriage story here).” (Sidenote on this one: pregnant women know about these stories. We’ve read about them, know friends with them, some experienced them personally, had nightmares about them, and pray against them. So please, unless we bring it up, or ask about it ourselves, spare us the awful story.)

“You just look swollen, not fat.”

“I can tell you’re pregnant because you look really, really tired.” (We know this, too.)

“You don’t even look pregnant! Are you sure you’re that far along?”

“Are you sure you aren’t having twins? You’re huge!”

(While passing butter at dinner), “Here’s the tub, you’re gonna be a tub in about five months!” YES, THIS HAPPENED.

Any use of the word F-A-T, no matter the context, or intention. Just avoid that word (and others like it) all together. It’s a four-letter-word.

Things TO say . . .
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in the history of this planet, to ever walk, drive, or run. In fact, I can’t recall a time I’ve ever seen someone so beautiful, glowing, and magnificent.” (Magnificent is the key word. Emphasize it greatly.)

“You look extremely alert and ready to take on the day. Do you even need caffeine? I mean seriously, I can’t get over how on top of life you are now!”

“WOW! You’re amazing! Incredible! Stupendous! Unbelievable! You are going to have the best labor anyone has ever heard of! I’m not going to tell you some insane story that will give you nightmares!”

But seriously . . .

“How can I help you?” is always good.

“How can I pray for you?” also… good.

There you have it. If I hear any more absurdly awkward or offensively funny things, you will be the first to hear (and laugh) about it.

because i can’t count on my hands

I knew once we announced our pregnancy, the questions would come like raging rabbits in search of a garden.

“How long are you going to breastfeed?”

“Are you going to get an epidural?”

“Have you started shopping for maternity clothes yet?”

“Are you going to find out the gender of the baby?”

Contrary to what the tone may imply, I enjoy questions because questions urge dialogue. I get to hear people’s stories, what their personal experience has been, and what they wish they would’ve known or done differently. So in this way, questions are good for me, because they force and encourage me to think and listen.

On the other hand, the questions can also be intimidating and anxiety-ridden. And the one that has ignited the most anxiety has been:

“What are you going to do about work? And daycare?”

This question implies, of course, that I am going to continue working full-time, and that my child will inevitably be in daycare. This is a fair question, as I have never really spoken about dreams of being a stay-at-home mother. I read an article recently about Yahoo!’s CEO who planned on going back to work within weeks of labor and delivery. Then I read another one about a woman dealing with similar questions and issues, taking a less-demanding job so she can be with her family more. It’s a discussion that isn’t short of opinion or experience, and for me, it’s one I don’t take lightly, and feel too conflicted about to jot off a simple, “a + b = c.”

But our short answer is: we really don’t know.

In our short 14 weeks of pregnancy, we have talked about every option, envisioned (and budgeted) each scenario. We’ve asked people we respect and admire the decisions they made, why they made them, and what they would do differently if they could. All had different answers, but very similar theme: do what fits your family.

This conversation is loaded with theory, identity, family, sacrifice, etc. No decision comes without significant loss and gain. So I ask, in the midst of our wandering, that you be gracious to us. We are trying to figure it out. We don’t know. We are full of lots of questions and very few answers. And we are settling in being okay with that for the next six (or so) months. I find myself saying more times than I can count on my hands, much like Jehosophat in 2 Chronicles 20, “God, I don’t know what to do. But my eyes are on You.” And something tells me that’s kind of the theme in parenting.

2011 Reflection & Wrap-Up

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
I flew solo in youth ministry for 3 months as my co-worker took a sabbatical. I officiated a wedding. And… I dove into the joys of home ownership. :)

2.Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I did. I failed. Hah! My resolution was to run the mini-marathon, but that didn’t work out. HOWEVER, I did join the YMCA and am working out routinely, so although I didn’t complete my resolution, I got creative.

This year, my goal is to have balance in my financial life. I want balance everywhere (who doesn’t?), but financially, we are making some adjustments. We want to give more. Save more. Spend less.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes, yes. I am in a season of babies & weddings, and I love every minute of it.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes. Kyle’s grandfather passed away this fall. One of my former students, Tessa, died this past Spring in a car accident.

5. What countries did you visit?
Zilch. As in none.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
Time and space.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
March 1-First day of Nick’s Sabbatical
March 5-Tessa died
April 30-First GO LOVE INDY. Loved watching our community that day. Rumor has it that I drove around from site to site with some tears.
September 24-Officiated Emily & Brince’s wedding in Eatonton, Georgia
October 23-Celebrated my mom’s 60th birthday in Chicago.
November 12-Stood beside my friend, Katelyn, on her wedding day
December 7-Kyle’s grandfather passed

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
There are lots of little things. I grew a lot this year–in personal maturity, my job, as a wife, sister, daughter, and friend. I just stinkin’ grew!

9. What was your biggest failure?
Taking out anger and frustration from work on my husband. I truly regret that.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Well, yes.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Definitely my iPhone. Life changer!

12. Where did most of your money go?
Bills, student loans, bills, student loans, bills… welcome to adulthood!

13. What did you get really excited about?
Durham Family Vacation in Florida, haven’t seen most of them since our wedding!

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?
Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons, I’ve Got This Friend by The Civil Wars

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:
– happier or sadder? Happier. – thinner or fatter? Same.  – richer or poorer? Same.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Time and energy in the Word.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Checking email and being on the internet.

18. How did you spend Christmas?
Drove all over the place visiting family, led worship at Chapel Rock, and then drove all over the place again. :) Hoping for a more relaxing year in 2012.

19. What was your favorite TV program?
Mad Men, Parenthood, Parks & Recreation

20. What were your favorite books of the year?
Cold Tangerines (Shauna Niequist), Blue Parakeet (Scot McKnight), Making a Mess and Meeting God (Mandy Smith), Radical (David Platt)

21. What was your favorite music from this year?
Mumford & Sons, Adele, The Civil Wars, Over the Rhine, Brooke Fraser

22. What were your favorite films of the year?
The Help

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 24, and I had a relaxing day with my husband and then went over to a friend’s house for dinner. Low key and perfect.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Deciding early on that I cannot control other people’s choices and decisions. That would’ve saved me a lot of anxiety and stress.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
Dressy/Casual/WannabeHipster

26. What kept you sane?
Laughing with my husband. Cooking. Funfetti Vacation with my closest friends.

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
People are capable of tremendous amounts of good, and tremendous amounts of evil. We desperately need a Savior. Also, chocolate really does help. :)