Nov 062011
Nov 022011
I had the best of roommates at Relevant. They put up with a lot—most especially a little guy who never wanted to leave his Mommy’s arms, overstimulated and exhausted as he was.
I’d already warned them about the 10 things they should know about me. But now they know all the things I forgot to tell them. So here’s to the best roomies ever—Trina and Diane—and to many more conferences where we can live and laugh and cry “life unmasked” together.
10 Things Gretchen’s Relevant Roomies Know About Her Now:
- Gretchen holds to the Girl Scout motto of being always prepared. Which means she will over-pack. And she won’t think she needs anything at Target—at least not the first time she goes.
- Just because she has every single possible outfit combination for hot, cold, or spit-up-upon, doesn’t mean she won’t still be easily convinced to wear Trina’s shirt instead of her own for the opening night. (She relies on the fashion advice of her Tiny-Twig-following roomie since she herself is fashion-challenged.) Continue reading »
Nov 012011
Daniel and I with Angela of altogetherhis.com. Angela was one of the sweet ladies at my table the first night, whom I had fun reconnecting with as the week went on.
I’ve always thought of myself as an extrovert. But at Relevant last week, I began to question whether I really was as extroverted as I’d always thought.
I shook hands and gave hugs and traded business cards with the rest. I made small talk with the ladies at my table and even went up to a few strangers at the newbies meet-up the first night. But I quickly reached my “people quotient.”
As dear and neat as every lady I met was, I was overwhelmed at the vast number of women around me. I didn’t want to go out of my way to do more networking. I started reconnecting with the same people. I had to trust that the Lord had led me to the people I was supposed to meet, would connect me with the rest to whom I needed to say hello.
I just smiled as I passed familiar “famous” faces, not wanting to be one more random blogger who said hi to them without already being a loyal blog reader. If I already followed them, already read their blog, already had Tweeted back and forth, it felt more natural. 
But to go up to someone I recognized yet didn’t even read? It just wasn’t me.
And as we sat around the tables, sometimes quiet, I laughed. We all know exactly what to say when faced with a blank screen, a blinking cursor. But in person? We bloggers are perhaps a little more introverted than we realize.
Written for The Extraordinary Ordinary’s Just Write…
Oct 072011
The ordinary, everyday brings me to tears sometimes with its very routine-ness. The over and again, rinse and repeat, wake up and do it all over again laundry and dishes and what to eat.
The toys that will always get strewn everywhere and be tripped over. And the girlish joyful exuberance that will wake a sleeping brother. The clothes piled here and there. The clothes that are outgrown. The clothes that need sorted.
The up in the middle of the night and the teething and pottying and washing and cooking. It’s enough to overwhelm a mom living in the middle of an ordinary day.
But all it takes is a gold star, the story of a little box of mementos for an unknown child, or a conversation in Wal-Mart with a couple who would give anything to have children scattering toys over their floors. And I’m in tears again over my beautiful, beloved ordinary.
Sticky hands, chubby cheeks, too many in the bed, blankets dragged through dirt and dust bunnies, his shoes there by the door, imaginary food to try, tea parties to pour, Cinderella ball gowns to button.
Ordinary, yes. But oh so extra-ordinary, too. If only I remember to see it that way.
Five-Minute Friday: Ordinary
Jun 012011
A neighbor happened to call the other afternoon. “How do you find the time to hang out all that laundry?” she asked.
“It gets the girls outside,” was my reply of the moment. But as I thought about her question later, I realized that I look forward to that time hanging out the laundry.
Yes, it is quicker in the wintertime when I just throw the wet clothes in the dryer. But I miss the quiet moments in the sunshine, the wind rippling through the sheets and my hair, the cares disappearing along with the moisture.
I remember Mrs. Taylor giving the devotional at my bridal shower. She talked about how she loved to pray as she hung out her laundry. She said that wherever they had moved, her one constant had been her clothesline—and that she hoped I always had a clothesline like she had.
How do I find the time to hang out all that laundry? I make the time, out of sheer necessity. And not just the necessity of getting the clothes dry.
Granted, hanging out the laundry isn’t always serene these days. I have to direct Ruth about what she can hang on her mini clothesline (“Just the socks and washcloths—your shirts are too big.”). I have to keep Mary from bringing rocks into the yard (“And no, don’t pull your blankie off the line—it’s still wet!”). And if I don’t have Daniel in the ERGO, it’s a race to get the laundry out before he wakes up (“Girls, please do not yell right outside your brother’s window!”).
Sometimes, the clothes are still on the line when Merritt gets home for dinner, and he helps take them down while I feed Daniel after the girls are in bed. Some days, like today, it’s a mad dash out to grab the still-wet clothes off the line before they become even wetter from the rain.
On Wednesdays, I’m quite willing to let my mother’s helper get the experience of hanging out laundry herself, because I know there will be more for me to do tomorrow. (The thrice-a-week laundry schedule goes out the window with a spitty newborn in the house—but it’s oh-so-worth-it.)
Often, I’m not finished folding the clothes until after the girls are in bed, racing my husband to see if he can finish the dinner dishes or I can finish the laundry first. (And then I must remember not to leave the piles where Mary will oh-so-helpfully try to put them away before I do in the morning, un-folding every single item in the process!)
But still, hanging out the laundry, taking it down, folding the clothes big and small—it’s a few moments of quiet reflection, a few seconds of mental rest. So these days, I don’t find the time to hang out the laundry—I make the time to hang out the laundry.
May 152011
