22. What Makes You Different?

First of all, I was created unique from anyone who has ever lived or ever will live.

Also, I like to make up really strange dance moves. Dancing horribly is something I am remarkably good at.

I have treed a squirrel. Like, without the help of a hunting dog- just treed it on my own. I chased it for a few minutes, chirping at it in what I hoped was a macho-squirrel manner, until it finally became afraid for it’s life.

I can sing like a male opera singer. Quite well, believe it or not. It’s surprisingly addictive, and when I start doing it subconsciously in public places things can get very awkward very fast.

However, it takes a lot to embarass me. I try to make a habit or embarassing myself regularly enough that embarassment doesn’t put a damper on my day.

I have this wonderful ability to talk in a very annoying, squeaky voice- lots of people can do this, but I can laugh in that voice, and the sound of it makes me laugh harder, and so forth. It’s great.

I can go from acting like a toddler to acting like a mature, responsible adult as quickly as boys wish their car went from zero to sixty.

My first and middle names literally mean Princess Graceful. This is one of the single most ironic things I have ever heard.

There was a time in my life where my subconscious actually believed that I was Joe Jonas’s sister, that I was part alien, and that I had saved the world. Thankfully I am more grounded in reality now.

Comments

Pause Before You Post: Representing yourself responsibly and honestly online

When I was about eleven years old I went to summer camp for the first time. Before my sister and I left, my mother talked to us about something. She explained that we needed to mindful of our behavior at camp, not only because it is important to be kind and respectful, but also because we would be a representation of both our family and Christ to the people around us. That stuck with me. Now, with so many of us daily browsing and posting to social media sites such as Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, and blogs such as this, our representation is no longer limited to the people we are around in person- it is far-reaching, even global at times. It is certainly a far more widespread representation of yourself to post on the internet than it is to say something in person; on the internet, the dozens or hundreds of people you are connected with may see it. That is an enormous audience. I feel very strongly that we need to be mindful of that audience, of that re...

Girl, Your House is a Mess

Recently someone on Facebook posted something that bothered me. I didn't fly into a rage and comment viciously- I've been working on not commenting right away- or at all- when something bugs me, because often firing off a comment in the moment isn't most gracious ( more on this here ). But I've been thinking about it, so here we go. This post was about moms with messy houses, and how there is no excuse for one. People commented largely supporting this- asserting that messes are the result of laziness on the women's part, and that unless you are disabled in some way, you have no excuse. "Especially stay at home mom's," one woman, a stay-at-home mom herself, said, "I want to ask them what they do all day." Another comment agreed that the more time you have at home, the more time you have to clean, and therefore less possible reason why it should be messy. In general, it seemed agreed upon that a few books on your floor for a short amount...

Parenting Adventures: Already, I'm Wrong

I lay in bed five days ago, staring up at the dark shapes that the shadows made on the ceiling. It was the fourth night since Judah had been born, and I was realizing something: Already, I am wrong. Before our first child was born- this tiny blessing that we have had for just over a week now- I was certain of many things. I made plans. I confidently stated that our child would never co-sleep with my husband and I, because it was just too scary- and besides, we had a perfectly good cradle for him to sleep in instead. And yet now I found myself cuddled up beside the most precious human being I had ever seen, as he slept deeply (and safely) between Arthur and I in our bed. Before he was born, I said I’d never give Judah formula. And while I am sticking with breastfeeding, I cannot deny the fact that at 4am three days into motherhood I cried and wanted to give up. I have realized in these short nine days of Judah’s life that many of the things I was certa...

Sarah Anne I Am

Search This Blog