An Open Letter to my Kids 2022

It’s been a year – A YEAR – since I’ve written in my blog. I can’t believe it, but then again, as my kids grow and time marches forward, a year just isn’t what it used to be. Time goes so unbelievably fast. The last time I wrote, it was for my annual letter to my children in 2021. Things in the world were crazy with covid and politics – and well, much of that is the same. We are still dealing with covid, although masks are a rarity and quarantine periods are down to five days. There are other viruses and illnesses in the news, inflation is high, we’re on the cusp of a recession, and politics are still quite a mess. However, my little world is…good. Life is sweet, peaceful, and joyous. Don’t get me wrong – I want to pull my hair out at least once a day among sibling fights, toddler tantrums, a zillion pets and their messes…but really, I know I am so unbelievably blessed. So as I sit and reflect on the past year, I am thankful; thankful for my healthy and rambunctious family, thankful for the challenges and joys, and thankful for the opportunity to capture it all. Here goes, an open letter to my children in 2022:

For Jace, my son:
Jace, you are 13 years old now and in the 8th grade. I tell you often that you are a joy to me, but let me put it on record – you make life fun. This has been a transformational year for you. The boy I remember with a cherub face and thin frame is gone. In his place is a young man, strong, determined, and driven.
Over the past year you attended your first concert with our family to see Christian bands Mercy Me and Micah Tyler. You may or may not have been a bit embarrassed by your mother’s singing out and dancing, but afterwards shared with me that the music was “awesome”. I was excited for you to get to see faith demonstrated in such a big and beautiful way. You have continued to attend The Well at Redemption and made the choice to be baptized this year. In all honesty, you led our family to Redemption, and I continue to be amazed at your willingness to stand in faith. One of your 7th grade teachers shared with me that she admires your humbleness and that you are never afraid to talk about your faith. That makes me incredibly proud of you. You also attended Twin Lakes Christian Camp again this summer, and I’m so thankful you continue to choose to grow your faith in a world full of distractions.
You wrestled your 7th grade year and had one heck of a season, pulling out win after win. It was beyond fun to watch your skill and ability grow. Your passion for running stands out over the past year. You finished your 7th grade year of Cross Country at the end of 2021, ran the Turkey Trot over Thanksgiving break that same year, and then headed into track season in spring of 2022. You entered track for the first time telling me you were going to compete in hurdles, and my response was “No, you’re not”, as I envisioned your beautiful facing hitting asphalt. As I see often happening lately, I was wrong and you were right (I can’t even believe I’m putting that in writing!). You are simply a natural with hurdles, making it look too easy. You won every race of the season, with the exception of coming in second one time. You were really quite exceptional, and you made us so proud. Over the summer you attended your last year of Cross Country Camp, where you received the Mental Attitude Award. That is a moment I will never forget. You amaze me and your dad with your mental toughness, your determination, and your drive – to see you receive recognition from your coaches for that very special gift was an honor. Then over the summer, you attended Pacesetters Running Camp, and I saw you realize your potential for distance running for the first time. You left that camp on fire for running, and have since run the Wetlauf 5k, placing 3rd in your age range, the Turtle Soup 5k, placing 1st in your age range and 3rd overall, and competed in the Heartland Half Marathon Team Relay, where your team finished 2nd with a time of 1:33.
As much fun as it’s been, enough about running…I’d like to capture a few other memories that are too good to pass up. You continue to have a special friendship with Tyson and even vacationed with his family over fall break 2021 to Key Largo. We missed you like crazy, but are so thankful that you get to have those special experiences together. You still think a lot of your pets, especially Tony and Little Bear. You love love LOVE your dirt bike, and even upgraded this year. I’d list the make and model, but you know I’d get it all wrong. What I do want to share is that you worked very hard for your dirt bike, paying for 2/3 of the cost with your mowing money. You never cease to amaze me. I can’t leave this year’s letter without capturing the creation of a penis-shaped Christmas cookie….balloon….playdoh figure…that you shared with our family with this year. We absolutely have a teenage boy on our hands. Finally, your hair is all the rage these days. It’s long, curly, and some days you don’t seem to have eyes – but it turns out that the ladies love it, and it fits you well. We no longer force haircuts on you, glad you are able to make the decisions that are right for you and that make you happy. We learned the hard way after your last forced hair cut for family pictures – and the photo evidence of the rage that ensues when a boy doesn’t like his hair cut. All in good fun.
Jace, you are a wonderful son. Smart, hardworking, determined, motivated, hard-headed at times, love to pick on your sisters, love to poke at and drive others nuts, have a good time making fun of your mom’s For You TikTok page, still a great conversationalist – you make me proud. Your dad and I are blessed by you.

To Jera, still my Jera-da-bera, my girl:
My sweet girl, you are 10 years old today and in the fifth grade. As I read over my previous year’s letters, your previous letters surprised me most. There are so many ways you’ve changed, but also so many beautiful ways you’ve stayed the same. You are still my tornado. This is part of who you are, and I want you to know that your dad and I are so proud of the person you are.
You are my lover of games. You’re always up for a game of charades, heads up, or whatever will bring us together acting silly and having a good laugh. One of my favorite memories is of us doing the scavenger hunt in the fall of 2021 at West Boggs Lake. You ran to each clue, read them aloud for us, and we’d be on to the next stop along the hunt. We had a blast. You have a passion for baking and cooking, with a natural curiosity about dishes that allows you to be creative and come up with meals and treats that are brand new.
The Christian concert we attended as a family last year was also your first, and I have loved seeing both your love for music and your faith grow. You attended the fall camp at Camp Illiana trough Redemption. You are naturally a homebody, and you were afraid to go to camp. Even with me there attending with you, you became homesick on the first night, missing your dad and your home. But I saw you pull through, make friends, sing, dance, run and act silly. I saw you listen and relate and grow in your faith. I also saw you zipline and ride the big swing (mom in tow)! That weekend is a blessing in my life that I will take with me forever. You were the first in our family to make the choice to be baptized. Without prior arrangements, without all of your friends or extended family present, without any special acknowledgement, you decided it was the day to begin your walk with Christ, and so you stepped out and asked to be baptized. You lead our family in ways that you don’t even realize, and this is one of the ways you lead. Thank you for your courage and faith. It is a blessing to our family.
You accomplished so many things over the past year, from Girls on the Run to Spell Bowl to Bowling League to participating in the Kinderchoir. You even had a speaking part in the Christmas Program and did a wonderful job. You don’t love being the center of attention (I’m starting to learn that you might even hate it a little), but when asked, you step up and you do it well. It makes me proud that you’re willing to try new things, and I love watching you find some that are a really good fit, like bowling. For your birthday this year, you asked for a microphone and then knocked my and your dad’s socks off as you recorded your own version of a song from Encanto. It was truly amazing. My hope for you is that your continue to do the things that you enjoy and use the special gifts God has given you.
You continue to be incredibly thoughtful, and you impressed me so much at the end of your 4th grade year when your spent you hard-earned school points to attend Jema’s class and read a book to her. Some other things you have loved over the past year are all things Halloween, Harry Potter, roller blading, riding your bike, attending the daddy-daughter dance with your dad, Stranger Things, the Black Phone (and all things spooky), Roblox and making edits, getting your first cell phone, music – all music from the 80s especially – and your pets, particularly Chip and Tony. You graduated from your expander and braces to a beautiful, grownup smile. We also had fun making snow ice cream over the winter and walking the square to find your art work, a beautiful, colorful ostrich.
Jera, I see you growing into yourself every day. You still have the best style, really cool hair, and an awesome sense of humor. You’re learning what little-girl things you are comfortable with leaving behind, and which ones you’d like to hold on to for a while longer. You’re introspective, often too hard on yourself, loving and kind – you make my life so much sweeter, and your dad and I are thankful for you every single day of our lives.

To Jema, OH-Jema, Jemmy, my baby:
Jema, you are three and just started your first year of preschool. Oh child, you are a pistol. You are a running, jumping, dancing, singing, screaming, giggling, whirl of a girl. This year has been completely full of firsts for you! You moved from a crib to a big-girl bed, mastered potty training, and somehow started pre-school. How did that happen???
Some things that you love right now are slime videos on YouTube, along with videos of veterinarians saving puppies (which make the rest of your family a little squeamish). You have loved dinosaurs over that past year, starting each morning watching Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous. However, I have seen that interest starting to wane, and in it’s place has been a love for Cocomelon, Pup Academy, Gabby’s Dollhouse, and Booba. You like spooky things, including Monster House and Hocus Pocus. You love holidays, birthdays, and celebrations, and you started asking me when Easter was going happen in August this year.
You want to be just like your bubby and sissy. You often steal Jera’s stuffed animals and blankets, much to her despair, and have named your bubble-blowing Powerwheels “dirt bike”. You are your mommy’s helper and are by my side whether we’re doing the dishes together, watering flowers, folding laundry, or working in the garden. I feel so blessed to share so many moments with you. I currently hear “I love you” approximately 300 times every single day, as our conversations tend to go something like this:
Jema: “Mommy.”
Me: “What?”
Jema: “I love you!”
Me: “I love you too!”
…5 seconds later…
Jema: “Mommy.”
Me: “Yeah?”
Jema: “I love you!”
…and so we go on…
You love jumping in “muddy puddles”, and each time it rains, you talk your dad or me into taking you for a walk so you can jump in each rain puddle along the way. I write “jump in each rain puddle”, but “jump, sit, roll, and lay in every rain puddle along the way” would be more accurate. You’ve become very social this year and love making friends with any child we come along. You then remind me each time we pass that particular park or house about the “best friend” you made there. You are so precious.
You love painting your fingernails and making daily trips to the playground. Each day when I come home from work, you insist we lay in the hammock together where we play doctor and dentist. Mostly, you continue to remind me to slow down and play. I’m so thankful for that. This past summer you spent a ton of time in your purple elephant pool and turtle sandbox in the backyard. You also enjoyed many trips Holiday World and the zoo. You absolutely adore animals. You insist we stop and pet every dog we see, and you follow each and every animal sighting with an “Awwwwweeee, I want one” comment. You obsess over watching bush babies on TikTok. You have a sharp little since of humor that makes it hard at times to believe you’re three. You’ve also dropped the “F-bomb” a few times, which is a first for me as a parent, and helps me to testify that raising a toddler around teenagers presents new challenges. Thankfully you follow up every foul-mouth faux paw with a “we don’t say bad words” statement…so I know that you know and are just testing your boundaries.
You make me laugh every day and keep life always exciting. Thank you for being a ray of sunshine in our lives. You are everything light and free in this world, and your dad and I are so thankful to spend this life with with you.

I would be remiss if I didn’t take a moment to say thank you to my husband who is my partner in this life, and is by my side every step of the way raising these amazing children. Everything good that I have in this life began when God placed us together, and so I am always so thankful for that.

Life is hectic. This year is the first time that I needed to take a full day off of work in order to make time to write this letter. Weeknights are filled with sports, homework, meetings, suppers, showers, and bedtimes, and weekends are filled with much of the same. We spend our time living life, and so don’t have much time to reflect. However, I encourage you, that reflection is important. So many of the little characteristics and traits that I caught in prior years’ letters are gone now. Like so many beautiful pieces in life, the memories fade and are replaced with the present moment. I have no doubt that when I sit to write in 2023, each of my kids will be a bit, if not totally different. And so, make time where there is none. Make time to remember, to record, to share life’s precious moments…or have them lost to time. For me, I’m so grateful for this little tradition that started on a whim six years ago, and for all of the happy memories that my writing has preserved.

An Open Letter to my Kids 2021

It’s late on a beautiful Saturday afternoon in September. The sun is shining, we’ve been to a cross country invitational, made tacos, I got in a run, and we squeezed in a movie as a family. What else is left to do but write? In past years, I’ve written this open letter in July, but here we are in September, and I’m finding the months just flying by. So here I am, a little late, but determined to leave behind these memories for me, for my children, for our family, and for whoever else enjoys sharing in our story.

I wrote my first open letter to my children in 2016. Jace was seven, Jera was was four, and Jema wasn’t even a twinkle in my eye. Our world has changed since then, and then changed again. We experienced life changing losses, met educational and professional goals, we fell apart a few times and rebuilt something stronger and more genuine each step of the way. We have survived a pandemic and are still battling through the environment created in that chaos. Through it all, I have realized that I have the most blessed life, one in which God has given me what my heart needs and desires most: a relationship with Him, a marriage with my soul mate, and the three best kids in the world. So five years after I first began, I can’t wait to capture the special moments over the past year and what makes every day imperfectly perfect in our lives.

For Jace, my son:

You are twelve years old today, but not for long. It’s difficult to believe we are on the cusp of having a teenage son. In the same breath, you are so mature, responsible, and wise beyond your years, that it also makes perfect sense. Funny how life can be set at such a juxtaposition, too fast and too slow, all at the same time. The past year has been a blast with you as you started middle school sports. You participate in cross country and wrestling, and your dad and I love to watch you compete. You work hard and push yourself, but you also value sportsmanship. You’re the first to be proud of your friends for their good finishes and matches. That makes me proud of you. Just last week, you ran in your first half marathon with a relay team and brought home second place. While the recognition was nice, seeing you accomplish something so monumental was simply unbelievable. You encouraged your teammates, cheered for them, and shared in the spirit of the sport.

You also excel in your school work. You put in the work and bring home good grades. I don’t have to check in on you to make sure you do your homework or study for exams, because you set high standards for yourself. You make this parenting thing too easy for your dad and me. We are so thankful for your work ethic. And speaking of work ethic, you’re still bringing in the cash mowing yard after yard in the neighborhood. You talk with our neighbors as you work with them, making sure their lawns are the right height, that you’re mowing on the days they prefer, and that they’re happy with your service. They often tell me what a good boy you are, and I couldn’t agree with them more. You are outstanding in so many ways, and I’m not sure why I was so blessed to be your mother, but I’m grateful.

Some of your favorite things are running, wrestling, steak, takis, Shameless, fishing, and riding your bike. You are still a type A kid and keep your room pretty neat and tidy. You’re independent and helpful, but best of all, you have a big caring heart. This year you began attending The Well at Redemption Church. This was a big change for you, and I’m so proud of the ways that you’ve made choices for your faith to bring you closer to God. I see you share your faith with your friends and family, and that makes me so incredibly proud of you. You don’t shy away from difficult conversations and express yourself in such a respectful way. I see in you a tolerance and understanding for others. You are an old soul.

Jace, you are a wonderful son, a strong and faithful young man, determined and strong-willed. Thank you for being you, and for all of the joy you bring into my life.

For Jera, my daughter:

Jera, you are nine years old today. I sometimes forget that you are so much younger than your brother and cousins, because you can run with the big kids without missing a step. Your humor and reserved nature sometimes make you seem tougher than you are, but then I see your sweet feelings hurt, and I am reminded just how tender and sensitive you are. That hidden softness, the quiet shyness that you keep tucked away, makes me love you even more (if that is possible). Over the past year you have continued to excel in academics. You make excellent grades and just tried out for the spell bowl team. You have continued to play piano and take singing lessons, and you bring me to tears as you share your songs with others in church. You have such a sweet and beautiful voice and getting to watch you use your talent is a special joy in my life. You ran in Girls on the Run for the first time this year. I was so grateful to get to be your coach and run in the celebration 5k with you. I will carry those memories with me for the rest of my life.

You are also the most amazing big sister. Jema absolutely adores you and mimics your every move (and word). Patience can be difficult for you, but not when it comes to Jema. I see you share with her, encourage her, laugh with her, show her grace and kindness…I see you blooming into a wonderful, sweet young woman, and you’re so beautiful. Your thoughtfulness is one of my favorite of your attributes. You will write notes to your dad, bring me a snack, plan surprises for those you love. You look forward to birthdays and holidays, planning what presents you will get for others to make their day special. You shine in giving to others, and it’s an honor to see this wonderful part of your soul.

You have continued your love for cooking, and you’ve recently been blowing my mind with your culinary treats. You’re creative when you cook, whipping up everything from specialty coffees to fancy pasta dishes. You like to cook on your own, but don’t mind me being your sous-chef and helping with some chopping and, of course, the dishes. I also get to be a taste tester…every job has it’s perks.

In this moment you love Harry Potter, fidget toys, everything Halloween, slime, your stuffed animals, pillows and blankets, Toca Boca, and scary movies. I’ve seen you grow in responsibility, remembering to do your chores most of the time and sticking to your budget when we school shopped this year. It made me so proud of you to see you pick and choose what you wanted most as you learned the value of money and just how quickly it goes. You picked some of the cutest things for the school year, and it was a joy to watch your fashion show when we got home. I love that you find joy in small treasures, like the tiny crocheted pumpkins you found at the “junk store” which are now proudly displayed on your vanity. You are also always the first to volunteer to lead our family in prayer. Your willingness to pray and trust in God is inspiring, and I appreciate that so much about you.

Jera, I love your sweet heart, your style, and all of the ways you surprise me and bring me joy every single day. I am so proud of you and thankful to call you my daughter.

To Jema, my baby:

Jema Mae, you are two years old today. You may be the baby, but my child, you are also the queen. You are a mix of sassy and sweet that often keeps us guessing, but also completely melts our hearts. There is nothing greater in this life than when you hold my hand, when you crawl into my lap, or ask me to rock you. Our nighttime routine these days includes rocking in your room, singing Amazing Grace, and then you promptly asking to be tucked in. You still have your entire family at your beck and call, with your dad and me, your brother and your sister waiting for your next new word, funny face, silly dance move, or whatever your energetic little self musters up. You love to jump off the furniture, down the steps, and run down the hallway at your absolute fastest. You are happy, joyous and free, and you bring such a bright light to our lives.

While you can be quite commanding when it comes to the remote control and which of your shows we are going to watch, you are also ridiculously laid back. You get carted around to piano lessons and cross country meets, to wrestling matches and camping trips, and you go with the flow each step of the way. You enjoy our many adventures and like seeing new people and places. You are such a good child in fact, that your dad and I revel in the fact that we got so lucky three times.

Your favorite things today are Monster House, dinosaurs, sidewalk chalk, bubbles, going for walks and to the park, Booba, and hanging with your big sister. You also love your brother, although you seem to enjoy giving him a hard time. You love coloring and make me laugh each and every time that you point out and tell me that you’ve colored the animal’s ‘butt’. You attend speech therapy weekly and of all the words you’ve learned, I get a kick out of fact that ‘butt’ is one you use often. You love your sessions with your speech therapist and always look forward to playing with her. We are amazed at the growth and many new words and phrases you’ve learned in the past few months. You are my sidekick and especially enjoy helping me to water the plants. You are a great little helper. You have such a cool little personality and getting to know you is an unexpected blessing for which I will be forever grateful.

Jema, the Jem, Jem-Bim, your dad and I love you so very much. Thank you for the many precious moments, the laughs, and for reminding us that God’s plan is so perfect. You are the last piece of our family puzzle, and you make us complete.

I can’t imagine what the next year will bring our family, and I choose not to spend too much energy thinking about that. Instead, I will keep my focus on today. On the sweet little dumpling sitting next to me, snacking on her graham cracker and asserting very clearly to me that the snack is “mine” and she will not be sharing. On the funny and gentle girl in her room redesigning her Toca Boca house for the ump-teenth time. On the young man kicking back relaxing downstairs after running his heart out this morning. And perhaps most importantly, on the man who made this life possible, my loving and kind husband. For today, everything is just right, and for that I thank God. If you took the time to read about my family today, I hope you will also take the time to tell yours just how special they are. When we have each other, we truly have everything.

Soul Mates?

My husband and I will celebrate 13 years of marriage in a few days. It’s strange that there are ways in which it feels a lot longer than that…like can I even remember what life was like without this man by my side? Then there are different ways where these 13 years feel like the blink of an eye…and I’m still 17 and just excited to be cruising gravel roads with this good-looking guy riding shotgun in my Camaro. Gosh, even that thought, that picture of us fresh-faced in my mind’s eye, makes me blush and smile. Those really were the days…

I was talking with a friend, and we were chatting about if relationships, life partners if you will, are predetermined. Do you have a soul mate or could you have ended up with someone else and still be happy in marriage? Are you happy with your partner because it was predetermined that you belong with them…or could you have made a happy life with anyone?

For my readers, I’m sure it’s not hard to guess which side I fell on. I believe we are made with a soul mate in mind for us, someone you belong with. My friend, who is also in a happy marriage, thinks that we can make a happy life with other people, as long as you and your partner would be devoted to doing just that.

Who knows which one of us may be right, but what I have found over the course of my relationship is that a happy marriage comes from the choice. Even with the right person, the wrong choices can lead you to some very difficult places. So happiness in relationship comes from the recognition that you have the choice to stay or to go…to love or leave…to encourage or to break down your partner. A happy marriage comes from choosing to show up and bring your best to your relationship every single day.

There are points in every marriage where circumstances and problems cause spouses to review their marriage. Challenges come without fail. There are tough times. We can find ourselves wondering what life would be like on our own. We may try to figure out if we could do it on our own. Could we survive…financially, emotionally? If we make that determination in the midst of a tough season in our marriage it may bring us comfort that we could do it on our own, but I think that that very thought is the crux of every downfallen relationship. Thoughts become things, so we have to guard our thoughts bravely and fiercely when it comes to our relationships.

For me as an individual and in my marriage, I know that I’m a strong person. I know I am capable of hard work and that I’m even tougher than I realize. But I also see that my life would look so drastically different on my own and without my marriage, that I never want to “make it” on my own. I never want to wake up and face this life without my husband.

Everyday is not perfect. Every moment is not easy. But every day I choose my husband all over again, and he chooses me. Part of what makes that choice easier, better and more fulfilling, even on the hard days, is that I have come to learn, believe, and know that he, just like I, wants what is best for both of us and for our family. This knowledge…the knowledge that we want what is best for one another and for our family…it allows me to always see the best in him. Paired with my ability to choose to show up in my marriage, I am left with hope, happiness and fulfillment.

These thoughts allow me to stop and recognize the beautiful quiet moments. The moments when he helps our daughter to shower and brush her hair. The moments when he picks up our son and takes him to a car show on a whim or when he dresses our little baby daughter in her pjs and gets her ready for bed. It’s in the moments when he washes the dishes, takes out the trash, picks me flowers, makes our bed, stops me in the kitchen and just gives me a hug that I see the best in my husband. I see my life’s happiness and it fills my heart to the brim…so much so, that the thought of living without all of those little, but big, things…even the thought of living without that…is too much to bear.

I don’t know if I’m right or wrong about this soul mate thing. What I do know is that my heart feels so woven into who this man is, who we are together, and what we have that I never want to face this world without him. I know that if he was not by my side, I would feel as though I lost a part of myself, my heart no longer whole. As we celebrate 13 years, as we work to raise these three beautiful children together, as we continue to grow as individuals and as a couple, I will choose my husband in every single moment, to see the very best in him, and to be thankful that, predetermined or not, he is mine.

The End

Grief is action

It’s doing whatever it takes.

Being there.

It’s the crossing of every boundary.

Grief is wanting more time, but wishing for the end.

It’s letting another’s peace come before your own.

It’s the forgetting of self, the end of everything small and petty, the epitome of love and understanding.

Grief is waiting.

It’s saying goodbye.

It’s feeling like it will never end, but yet like it’s all moving too fast.

Grief is the quiet moments.

It’s the promises made.

It’s facing the end and learning to live without a part of your heart.

Grief is a wash of gray, a numbness.

It’s feeling fine and devastated.

It’s feeling thankful and angry.

It’s the silent prayers, the one-way conversations.

Grief is the tears, the robber of sleep, the stealer of joy.

It is the slow, burning longing inside to go back, even if for just a moment.

It’s knowing things will never be the same.

It’s not knowing what to do, what to say, how to act.

Grief is feeling lost, alone in a sea of people.

It’s the painful feeling that comes with the memories, the images of a face you can no longer touch, the feeling of the hand you can no longer hold.

It’s the heartache, a heavy weight.

Grief is a time. It’s a place. It’s an ocean with no horizon.

Grief is unnerving, unapologetic, a quiet lamb and a ferocious beast.

It is the end of life.

It is an unfinished story.

Grief is watching the world pass you by for a while.

It’s having no idea of how to move forward, but knowing you will.

Grief is a moment at a time.

An Open Letter to my Children 2019

I’m on a flight somewhere over the great state of Kentucky, headed to sunny San Diego. We’ve not reached cruising altitude quite yet, and a few small bumps here and there keep reminding me of my fear of flying. Can this momma get a mimosa over here?

When I think of why I fear flying the truth is that I can’t imagine not making it back home to my husband and children. I left them this morning, all in some state of morning sleepiness. We gave hugs and kisses. We said “I love yous” and “I’ll see you soons”. I stole one final look at each one of them to get me through the next five days. I let their image, their sweet little squishy faces, sear into my brain, and I didn’t allow myself to think about the treasure I was leaving behind, certain that the tears would come, and I wouldn’t make it out the door.

So while I’m in the air praying not to die, missing my kiddos, I figure this is the perfect time to think back over the past year and write them the annual “Open Letter to my Children” letters. The kiddos have actually been asking me to write this blog and asking me to read the prior years’ letters to them. My heart swells knowing this has become a tradition for us and that they truly appreciate seeing themselves through my eyes. So here we go year 2019 of motherhood. It’s been a great one.

Jace –

You are ten years old. You just finished the fourth grade, which is totally bizarre for me, because I can remember when I was in the fourth grade. And yet, somehow, I now have a fifth grader on my hands. And while in some ways I wish I could say that ten is just a number and that you’re still my little baby boy, that is not the truth. I have watched you grow and mature this year into a young man that I am extremely proud of.

You learned the value of studying and preparation this year. When your science grades came in lower than what you had hoped for, you focused and put the work in every single day until you grades reflected your good study habits. You brought your study guide to me everyday and together we covered the material, even before your teacher asked you to. That made me so proud of you.

You wrestled for the first time this year, and Bud, you were a natural. You’ve always complained about being shorter or lighter than other boys your age, but in wrestling you found that your size, mixed with your strength and speed were an absolute advantage, and you excelled. In baseball, you overcame frustration with batting and have started getting hits from the live pitcher. You have a different coach from the past few years and I’ve been impressed that you’ve been able to speak up when needed and form a relationship with him on your own. You’ve learned things like the importance of carrying your own gear to and from the field and thanking us as your parents just for getting you to the game. Your coach this year has focused on teaching respect and responsibility, and I’ve seen you take pride in those lessons.

You’ve continued to be a leader among your friends, still always concerned with others choices about things like cussing and spending too much time online, but you’ve also learned that you can’t choose for others…they have to make their own choices. I’m so proud because I understand the importance of that life lesson.

You are still a total gear head, and I now see that this passion may direct your life path. You spent hours upon hours this year rehabbing old bikes, sanding them, painting them, replacing the grips and brakes, and making them your own. While I’m not loving that we have eight bikes stored in our garage, I cherish that you have found something that you love and that is uniquely yours.

You love your family and continue to enjoy spending time at home. You love spending time with Jema and making her laugh, and you love picking on Jera and making her whine (although occasionally I see you lovingly guide her as well). You are bright, caring, loving and the most considerate person I have the pleasure of knowing, and I’m beyond grateful to call you my son.

Jera –

You are seven years old. That sentence still doesn’t seem real. I look at your beautiful little face sometimes, I see your bright, lively eyes, the freckles across your nose, your sweet and mischievous smile, and I don’t know when you grew from my cherub-faced baby into the young lady you’re becoming. It seems that time just passed when I wasn’t looking, and I suddenly have a smart, feisty, determined preteen on my hands. And my sweet Jer-Bear, you are strong-willed. I love that about you, and rather than fighting to have things my way, I’ve learned to first understand what is important and what really doesn’t matter. You love to choose your own clothes, style your own hair, do things in the order you choose and in the way that you choose, and you’ve taught me so much about embracing your ability to know just who you are and what you want, even at seven years old. I can already see the strong women you will grow into, and that makes me so proud of you. This year you found your voice at school and volunteered to do morning announcements in the gym, to lead in the classroom, and to speak up on your own behalf. You like to play shy, but I see an ability in you to step outside of your comfort zone and do any job that needs to be done. I see you shine in front of a crowd, and I think you will continue to grow and find strength in that ability.

And goodness girl, are you smart. This year I was blown away, BLOWN AWAY, by your ability to write. The stories that you wrote as a first grader are far beyond the capabilities of any child I’ve ever known. Your teacher took notice of your talent for writing and asked your dad and me to continue to encourage your gift as you grow. I really thought my head would pop right off my shoulders, I felt so overcome with pride.

You also begrudgingly agreed to play your second year of softball. Begrudgingly not because you don’t like softball, but because you just like free play time better. And although your dad and I want you to do what makes you happy, we also want to give you a foundation of involvement that gives you options as you grow. So we agreed, you needed to pick one activity, any activity, but you had to be involved with something. So softball it is. Although you weren’t excited to play, you show great potential. We sit in the stands and hear the comments on your swing, your speed, your natural ability. You tickle me because you never, and I mean not once, look in our direction during the game. I’m not sure if you’re just that focused or if you just don’t need the reassurance from us, but you’re all business when your on the field. It’s been fun to watch you, and while I’m not sure if softball is something you will dive into or leave behind in the future, we are having fun watching you grow in your abilities and make new friends for now.

Your sharp sense of humor makes you so fun to be around. You enjoy time with friends and family, but also don’t mind alone time. I’ll often find you in your room with the door closed, watching television, playing, or just relaxing on your own. I appreciate those moments that you ask for together-time so much, because those moments are a little more rare with you. You are independent, and I admire that about you.

You are also a proud big sister, and are excited to to pick out Jema’s clothes every single day. You can’t stand to see her fuss, and will pick her up any time she makes a noise and deliver her to me. You love your big brother as well, and as much as he likes to pick on you, you also love to push his buttons. It’s an interesting game the two of you play, knowing you also wouldn’t know what to do without each other. My sweet daughter, you are strong, fun, imaginative, and loving. You make every single day interesting, and you add a special spark to our family that I am so thankful for.

Jema –

You are five moths old. Wow, this is hard to believe, let alone write. The last time I wrote these letters, you were tucked away safely in my womb, and I was imagining you face and personality, excited for what was to come. And now, you are here, and you are so much more, SO MUCH MORE, than I could have ever imagined or asked for. I know that I changed with the birth of each of my children, but at 34 I had thought I had most things figured out. I was wrong. You came into my life, and yet again I was transformed. You have reminded me of the importance of family, and while my family has always been important to me, you made me realize just how quickly this time in my life is passing. You came into my life, and suddenly Jace and Jera seem so much older, and I can see that the time I have with the three of you as children is limited. So thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, because I won’t take any of these moments for granted. You have taught me that being busy, worrying about the details, being concerned with others outside of our family circle…well none of that matters….not really. What matters is Phil, Melissa, Jace, Jera AND Jema. Everything else is secondary. With that in mind, I’m enjoying…cherishing…all the moments. And you make enjoying it all so easy.

You are the best baby. The BEST. I feel a little ridiculous even telling others that you’ve slept through the night since five weeks, that you made it through your brother and sister’s ball seasons crying at only one game, that you’re content and happy, that you’re so beautiful, that your smile makes me melt into an ooey-gooey mommy puddle. How did I get this lucky? You are simply amazing, a gift in my life.

You love your brother and sister. You will spy them from across the room and you are immediately hooked, watching them and waiting for their attention. You are showered with love from your siblings, cousins, and your grandparents. I watch your dad with you, and I fall in love with him again and again, seeing his love for you, watching him connect with you.

You are getting extremely interested in food, watching our spoons as they come from our plates to our mouths, reaching out and trying to redirect our meals to your mouth. You are so interested in fact, that as soon as I return from this trip, food for Jema is one of the first stops on my itinerary. You are rolling over in every direction, trying hard to crawl, eating every two hours, smiling and blessing us with your laughter and holding up your head and upper body with no problem. You are growing fast. You are my precious baby, patient and calm, gentle and loving, and the perfect final piece to our family.

I’ve made it to Denver now and will soon hop a final flight to San Diego. I’m excited for the learning and growth that await me so far away from home. But I’m most excited for the gift that awaits me when I get back. I am blessed beyond measure, and oh so grateful.

My Definition of Me

My husband and I got engaged over 19 years ago. I was so thankful to hear that he had asked my father for permission to marry me before popping the question, not because I was my father’s property of course, but because I respected that my father had been first in my life up until that point, and now this man would be stepping into the role of the man that I would love above all others. I remember my then baby-faced fiancé telling me that my father had told him only, “She’s fragile, you have to take good care of her.”

At the time, and even today, that sentence makes my heart squeeze. I had lived on my own for a few years by that point. I had paid my own bills, got myself from point A to point B with no assistance, and often been the person others went to for guidance. I was a helper, and hardly saw myself as helpless, let alone fragile. But there was something in those words that resonated with me, and yes, at that time, maybe that’s what I wanted, someone I could be fragile with, someone who would take care of me.

Over the years, marriage didn’t go quite as I expected. My parents have a very traditional relationship, with my mom staying home and taking care of most of the domestic things, and my dad going to work and filling the provider role. My parents are attached at the hip, and it doesn’t matter if it’s grocery shopping or a trip to the BMV, they do it together. My in-laws on the other hand, each worked outside of the household and we’re relatively independent of each other, enjoying their own circles of friends and hobbies. Unknowingly, my husband and I each brought these very different expectations of what a normal marriage looks like into our own relationship. These definitions of a “normal” husband/wife were the rules we measured one another by.

There are so many moments I remember thinking of my husband, “You were told I was fragile. You said you’d take care of me. What is happening here?” The moments when he allowed me to mow our grass…shouldn’t he come and take the handle of this mower from my hands and let me go sip some lemonade??? The moment he didn’t hold the door for me, or left me to accomplish a task on my own, or when he expected me to assemble our furniture or shelving. I felt puzzled by this, and not because I didn’t want to do these things, but because I hadn’t expected I would have to. It wasn’t the story I had told myself about marriage.

There’s something else here too that was happening in my heart and mind. All my life other people had defined me. I had been defined by those around me as smart, as funny, as pretty, I was nice, I was the baby in my family, I was fragile. There were negative stories too, the “I wasn’t”. I wasn’t athletic, I wasn’t independent, I wasn’t brave…all of these definitions creeped in and made up the person I thought I had to be.

Our loved ones see a lot of who we are. They see us from a perspective that we don’t see ourselves, and often they are privy to strengths and weaknesses that we may not even be aware of. But even our mothers, fathers, siblings or spouses don’t see all of us. They view us through their own lenses, the lenses of their relationship with us, the lenses of their life experience and the lenses of their personality. There’s truly only one person on this planet that can define us, who we are, who we’re capable of being…and that’s ourselves. We decide who we will be.

34 years of life and 13 years of marriage have taught me a lot about…well, about me. While our spouses don’t define us, I truly believe God puts our partners in our lives for very particular reasons. They teach us so much about ourselves. My husband often believed I was stronger than I thought I was. He thought I was more capable than I had dreamed of. And although he was once told I was fragile, there are still times in our life together, that I wonder if he thinks I am unbreakable.

Through these circumstances, through his faith in me, his expectations of me, I have found some very powerful truths about myself. The woman I am today is very different than the girl that stood at the alter all those years ago. I may still be nice and funny and all of those things, but I am not fragile and I’m not interested in having anyone take care of me.

Through this life, through all of the hard, impossible, heartbreaking things, through all of the joyous, amazing, life changing moments, through all of the quiet, mundane, everyday happenings, I have found myself. My definition of me.

Strong. Stable. Sure. Powerful. Determined. Positive. Reserved. Loving. Kind. Happy.

I have also learned that my character summations of those around me don’t define them either. My husband, my children, my parents, my siblings, my friends….they’re capable of more than I could ever dream for them. I am careful of what labels I give them, knowing that I see only a small part of them. They are more than they show the world.

What if we gave every person this freedom? The freedom to define themselves. The freedom to be just who they are made to be. What if we each gave ourselves this freedom, a life for ourselves without definition from others? What could we be capable of?

I ask my readers, what label has someone, maybe even someone who loves you and means well, what label have they given you that you will shed and leave behind today? Begin today redefining yourself and become the person you are capable of being, not the person you feel you have to be.

Letting Go

Happy 2019, Folks.  I pitifully spent much of my evening last night watching everyone’s celebrations from the comfort of my cozy bed in my pajamas.  I also sat and timed contractions for 36 minutes that were around seven minutes apart and lasted for 45 seconds at a time.  I waited anxiously for the contractions to get closer together, more painful or last longer…but to no avail.  At 40 weeks and five days pregnant, I am truly beginning to feel like round, uncomfortable and tired is my new permanent state of being.  I’ve actually googled to see if there is a possibility that I will never go into labor.  The internet says no, but I’m having my doubts.

I’ve spent the last few days trying to get a handle on the past year, and what this particular new year means to me.  I have always been a big fan of the new year season with all of its potential and promise, but this year, I’ve had a difficult time coming to terms with what the previous year meant to me and what I want the coming year to be.  For me 2018 is a bit of a blur with both tremendous moments and terrible heartache.  Such is life.

When I focus on the good, I see that I graduated with my Master’s Degree, I made a career move that I’m ecstatic about, and I made a human being (who is currently stubbornly refusing to be born).  These are big moments which I should be excited and proud of….and I am, but I find that I feel a little detached from these accomplishments, as though they  happened to someone else.

Maybe that is the true value of reflection.  We work incredibly hard to reach our goals, and then when all of that work translates to the end goal, we’re done.  It’s over.  We move on to the next thing and the past months or years of focus and dedication fade quickly to the background as life’s next dilemma or joy takes over.

As I move into 2019, I will take the time here to reflect not only on my successes, but also on what those successes taught me:

• Finishing my MBA taught me that I have a unique kind of perseverance that allows me to stay the course when things become especially difficult.  I learned that I truly love to learn, and without a learning process of some sort in my life, I feel stale and stagnated.  I learned that to succeed, I need the support of my friends and family.  I learned that even when it feels impossible to do, I have to make my children and family my number one priority.
• Moving into the Recruiting/Human Resource Field taught me the importance of living for the experience, not the final outcome.  I experienced some bumps and bruises along the path to my current position.  There were moments that I felt angry and bitter about the process, and I could have allowed myself to sit in that moment.  Instead, I chose to value what each experience taught me and move forward with that sentiment in mind.  Although I couldn’t see how things would work out, I had faith that they would.  That faith carried me through to the place where I am today, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to start a new professional adventure this year.
• I made a human, ya’ll. 2018 has brought the unexpected, and the greatest of all of my 33 years of life’s surprises has to be the blessing of my third child. This pregnancy has taught me that my plans don’t matter.  Talk about a humbling experience.  My 2018 plans included maintaining a healthy, vegan diet, completing a half marathon, and focusing 100% on my career.  My 2018 reality included pregnancy food aversions so severe and pregnancy induced anemia which made me so sick, that I became desperate enough to eat anything my body would tolerate, including meat, dairy and eggs.  The year included fifty pounds of weight gain that have made walking to the refrigerator a challenge, let alone the thought of running anywhere.  2018 brought the realization that my career will never, and should never, be the center of my focus.  I am a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister, a friend.  My career is important to me, but none of that success matters if I’m not the person I need to be at home.

Even as I write this, I am coming to terms with an epiphany that what this year has really taught me is that I need to appreciate the moments in life and spend less energy in a future that isn’t promised.  That for all it’s worth and although I will always be a “planner”, this life is not a planned event.  That I have no control over what is next or what 2019 will bring (although I’m hoping that the most immediate arrival for the new year will be this baby!).  And that while this life is difficult and beautiful at the same time, the very best thing I can do is to get down on my knees and put it all in God’s hands.

I need to appreciate the moments in life and spend less energy in a future that isn’t promised

For the New Year, for 2019, my resolution will be to trust, to pray every day to let go and let God, to focus on the moment and enjoy each second for what it is.  I hope to get back into shape, to put some energy into my art work, continue to write and journal, continue to find those parts of myself that have taken a back seat while I’ve worked to build a career and family over the past decade…but most importantly, I hope to remember and be thankful for the fact that I am not in control.  I certainly lost sight of this in 2018, and it is liberating to let it go in 2019.

I hope to remember and be thankful for the fact that I am not in control

I am wishing my readers a blessed year full of love and all of life’s happiness.  I hope that faith and family carry you through the difficult times ahead, and that you are present and engaged for all of the joyous miracles that are in store for you.  Take the time to reflect today on what has been, and how it has changed you.  Every experience holds a lesson for us.  My hope for you is that you take those lessons and spend a moment in thankfulness for them.  Happy New Year!

I leave you with some of my happiest 2018 moments:

Heaven is a Place on Earth

It’s hard to believe that December is in full swing.  This is always a crazy busy time of year for each of us, but this year in December, I will be welcoming our third child to the world.  I am on the countdown, and with two weeks and four days left until my due date, I am ready.  Or so I thought…

This morning in particular was pure chaos.  My older two children had their annual Christmas play at church.  With the best of intentions we called it an early night last night, knowing we would need to be up bright and early to prepare.  Five pregnant lady bathroom breaks and two and a half hours of insomnia at 2 a.m. later, it was morning, and I found myself struggling to roll my round little belly out of bed to start the day.  When I finally made it to my feet, I woke to find the mountain of dishes I had ignored the day before still waiting on me. With no clean forks to my name, I had to start my day with dishes just so I could feed my kids breakfast.  Forty minutes later I was cooking eggs over-easy, just the way the kiddos like them, and to my dismay, I broke two yolks which never happens.  Eventually breakfast was served, kids were dressed, we were ten minutes late to Sunday School but we prevailed and we made it.  I had ended up with an entire fifteen minutes to shower myself, dress, makeup, and do something with my hair before rushing out the door.

And it was then that it hit me…in two weeks, I will still have all of these things to do PLUS a newborn baby to nurse and dress and care for.  How had this not dawned on me before 37 weeks of pregnancy?  I had spent months picturing the snuggles, knowing I had sleepless nights coming, knowing having a newborn after all of this time will be an adjustment, but it hadn’t become reality until this morning.

In my anxiousness, my grouchiness, and waddling in nine-months-pregnant-glory into church, I was having the “Oh sh*t” moment of realization of what is to come.  I sat in the pew this morning, finally having delivered my children to their posts for the Christmas program, and then I began to watch them, donning white alter robes, angel wings and halos.

I watched my ten-year-old son sing each song, although at his age, he hates being on stage dressed as an angel with every fiber of his being.  My heart grew just knowing what a truly good boy my husband and I have raised.  Then I watched my six-year-old sing with all her heart, the gaps where her recently lost teeth belong, peeping out behind her sweet little lips with every note.  She had her first speaking part in which she grasped the microphone and said, “Wow, I’ll never forget this night. Heaven is a place on Earth.”  From the mouths of babes.  I knew in that moment, in this moment now, that she is right.

In the haste of the season, in all of the to-dos, it is so easy to lose our focus.  We get so caught up in the decorations, in the gifts and wrapping, in the carrying on of tradition, in the “have-to’s” and “need-to’s” that we can’t see the heaven that is right in front of us.  As much as I was cursing inside my head the entire morning as I let the hustle of the day erode my patience, I am so thankful for the gift of watching my children this morning, serving in our church in the most beautiful way, bringing to mind the purpose of the season, and reminding us all that heaven is truly a place on Earth.

In two weeks, or two days….who knows….I will become a mother for the third time.  Things will be difficult, I will be tired beyond words, I will have less time for myself, for my husband, for my other two kids, but what I will gain is immeasurable.  And the truth is that no matter how much I “ready” myself, we are never truly ready for God’s greatest gifts in our lives…and that is what makes them so incredibly remarkable.

My hope for you this holiday season is that each of you experience the joys of this Christmas with as little stress, anxiety and worry as possible.  That in the moments of feeling overwhelmed, you are able to look for the everyday miracles that we are given…after all, heaven truly is a place on Earth.

Learning to Lean In

Six months ago, to our surprise and joy, my husband and I discovered we would be bringing our third child into this world.  I had just finished my MBA (we actually found out we were pregnant the night before I walked for graduation…talk about one door shutting and another opening!), and I was laser-focused on my next career steps.

My first instinct was to take a step back from my career, to back off from my goals, to wait until after pregnancy, until after maternity leave, until after the re-balancing of life following our newest addition.   I didn’t want to, but rather thought I had to, lean back from my career in order to be a good mom, a good wife, to take care of my family.

I was wrong.

I shared my thoughts with a good friend.  I had been vying for a promotion, and I thought I should bow out now.  I thought that I couldn’t balance both a pregnancy and growth in my career.  Thankfully my friend said, “Don’t do that…don’t leave before you leave.  Lean in.”  My friend, a career-loving parent herself, had started reading Lean In by Sheryl Sandburg.  I know this book impacted my friend, but the timing of her advice and the introduction of this thought into my life in that particular moment was life-changing.

I listened to my friend.  I did not slow down.  I did not lean back.  I pressed full force on the gas pedal, and I leaned all the way in.  I was sick, physically sick from the pregnancy.  I could barely eat for the first few months due to crazy food aversions and nauseousness.  I was utterly exhausted all day every day due to anemia brought on by my pregnancy.  I was stressed out between prepping for job interviews, prepping my current role for the next person, showing up as my best self every day for my current job, caring for my two children and husband, and running my household…and dealing with pregnancy hormones (you mommas know what I’m talking about!).  And in that time, we faced a serious illness within our family.

So here I am, six months down the road.  I pushed forward when things were not ideal, and I got the promotion I have been working toward for years…I got my dream job.

The stress isn’t gone, if anything it is now crunch time.  Baby three is due in eight weeks and four days (but who’s counting???).  In those eight weeks, I will train my replacement for my current role, I have taken on a special project within my company that will take place in two weeks (another lean in moment for me), I am continuing to work to excel in my current role until I move, I am beginning to train and work in my new role…and I’m nearly eight months pregnant.  Let’s not forget that I have a family and household to care for, and we’ve tried to make the most of this fall season with Halloween fun, field trips, lots of quality time, prepping the house for baby, along with the usual homework, laundry, baths and daily routine.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’m totally looking forward to my maternity leave with my new little nugget.  I’m counting the moments until my sole focus is my newborn and my other two children, until I can be just mom for a bit.  But also, and this part is so vitally important, I am already looking forward to going into my dream career when I return to work after maternity leave.  I’m so thankful that I’ve leaned in to arrive at a place that I am truly excited and ecstatic to be.  I’m so thankful that I’ll be doing work that I find meaningful, setting an example for my children that hard work pays off in the best of ways, that I’ll be providing for my family while fulfilling my own individual goals.

I thought this morning about what my life would look like right now if I had leaned back in that moment six months ago.  I enjoy my current career, and I would still be thankful to work for a company that I believe in and within a role that is challenging every day.  But I would also be watching someone else step into the promotion that I know I am made for…and it would hurt.  I would not have taken on the special project that I’ll be completing in two weeks, and I’d be watching someone else in my spot…and again, it would hurt.  It would hurt for my pride, but it would hurt more so for the opportunity lost.  When I factor in the last six months I’ve spent full-throttle careening toward my goals, the next two months executing the final steps before baby, and my upcoming maternity leave, I would have missed nearly a year out of my career progression had I not leaned in.  A year of my career would have been stopped, stalled, at a standstill.

When we look at professional women and we wonder about things like the pay gap or the glass ceiling, I am convinced it is in these make-or-break moments in life that determine if we continue to advance or stall.  These are the moments that we easily fall behind our male peers, and while it is for a wonderful and fulfilling reason, it is difficult, if not impossible, to make up for.  It would have undoubtedly been easier to stall in this year’s time; however over my lifetime, I will look back and be so thankful for the advice I was given to “lean in” when I was afraid to push myself.

I’m aware that this decision is not for everyone, and I admire and understand those whose choices are different than mine.  Every decision we make has an immediate consequence on our lives and the lives of our family.  For me, as I know it would be for many of you, leaning in was the right decision.

I encourage you to not be afraid, to give every single opportunity your absolute best.  I encourage you to stay engaged in those things you are passionate for up until the very moment that you can’t; I encourage you to not leave before you leave.  There are times that our personal lives take center stage and balance between family and career is impossible, so our focus becomes 100% our family, and that is the way it should be…that is wonderful.  But when that time passes, when it again becomes possible to have our families and continue to pursue our personal goals, it’s important that we’ve given ourselves every option possible, so that the decision to be made, the going back to work, is a happy one, because we’re returning to a career we love, a career that we’ve spent every available moment working toward, a career that we didn’t leave prematurely.

I also encourage you to be the friend in my story. I’m so blessed to be surrounded by strong, career-loving parents.  These are the women and men that help me to see all that is possible in my own life.  Be that driving force, that role model, that source of inspiration when those around you struggle with the work-life balance dilemma.  Be that kind, supportive friend that understands the struggle, but won’t allow someone to quit their dreams.  Be the person not only to say, but to show, exactly what leaning in looks like.

 

 

Slay that Interview – Climb that Mountain

Career advancement can be a tricky thing, and for us 20- to 30-somethings, it can feel like an especially painful process. We can clearly see where we want to go, but the road to get there can seem confusing at the least, and absolutely Mt. St. Helens-type of daunting at the most.

Well, hello there, beautiful career mountain.

So how do we get there?  How do we scale the career mountain?  It’s as simple as to just keep taking that next best step. Be active and intentional with your future.  Actively identify what type of opportunity you are looking for next, take steps in the present to acquire the skills and education to qualify for that opportunity, and when the opportunity presents itself, jump at it.

It’s as simple as to just keep taking that next best step.

We often discount ourselves for opportunities when we do not yet check 100% of the qualifications for a position. Don’t make this mistake!  Take the risk, know your strengths and shortcomings, and apply anyway.

Interviewing and starting conversations with your peers and superiors about your interests and passions is an essential power move in reaching that end-goal. Interviews can be scary, and it’s hard to put yourself out there, but it is absolutely necessary.

So when that opportunity arrives, and you find yourself staring down the next hurdle on the path to your dream job, here’s some advice to slay that interview and present your best self:

• Dress a level above what you imagine the position requires. If the position requires a casual professional dress, suit up (skirted suit/pants suit). If the position requires jeans, wear slacks or a dress/skirt. It sounds like the oldest advice in the book, but this one’s a keeper.  First impressions are lasting, and even when you’re interviewing with someone you’ve worked with before, allow them to see you in a new, more professional light.  On the same front, hair should be clean, and pulled up and back from your face. This allows the interviewer to clearly view your face and keeps you from playing/fussing with your hair if you get nervous.  Appearance matters.
• Be on time! Show the interviewer that you respect their time, and when they’re ready to begin, you’re ready and waiting.
• Stay positive! If your current position is a living hell, choose to take the high road. All of the negative things you feel and think about a current or past job may be true, but no prospective employer wants to hire an employee who slams their current employer. Be as honest as you can without going to a negative place. A great way to explain your move is to share that you’re looking for a better opportunity and/or striving for a position that aligns with your particular passions.
• Study your prospective employer. Use the internet. Google, folks.  There is no excuse for not being fully educated about who the prospective company is, what their mission statement is, and what they’re looking to give back to their customers. Have a superior understanding of who it is that you’re trying to work for, and weave that information into your answers during the interview.
• Practice. It feels awkward, but the old saying “practice makes perfect” is 100% truth when it comes to interviewing. Find a friend or colleague who will sit with you for an hour and give you interview questions. You may feel silly at first but you’ll warm up to the process quickly, and when the real deal comes, you’ll feel confident and prepared.
• Breath.   It’s okay to pause and think during an interview. It’s difficult to fight the urge to immediately respond with a quick answer. But know that it is okay to pause, fill the space with a thoughtful “That’s a great question” comment, take a moment to think, and then give a great, well-thought-out answer versus a gut response.
• Flip the interview.  Have a list of relevant questions prepared. Remember, you’re interviewing the employer to try to understand if the company is right for you, in just the same way that they are interviewing you. Think carefully about your short-term, intermediate-term and long-term goals, think about what you envision as success in the role, and ask questions that give you a better understanding as to whether this is the right opportunity to deliver your goals.
• Last but certainly not least, the best advice for a great interview is to keep your focus on you and your strengths. Know what you have to offer. It’s easy to focus on the competition and try to combat the skills your competitor is bringing to the table. This is not a winning strategy. You can’t be something you’re not.  If you’re hired on the basis of portraying skills you don’t have, you’re unlikely to find long term success. Know what unique skills you can offer.  Understand and communicate what makes your background and perspective an ideal match for the position.  Rock that self-love, and show your interviewer why YOU truly are the best candidate.

Yeah, you got this!

You will not receive every job opportunity you apply for. There will be times that there is a candidate who is simply better qualified for one reason or another. But if you can walk away from an interview knowing you have presented yourself at your absolute personal best, you have a success to tuck under your belt. With each interview you become more skilled and better prepared for the next great opportunity.

In the event that you don’t get the job, take the opportunity to learn from your interviewer what skills or traits they were looking for, and move forward with a focus to improve where needed. Every job interview is an opportunity to grow and learn more about yourself as a professional. Rejection is a necessary (albeit painful) part of growth. Pick yourself up, brush yourself off, reevaluate where you are today, and begin working toward your next goal with a more-seasoned and better-practiced self.

Every job interview is an opportunity to grow and learn more about yourself as a professional.

Even better…when you land the position, hit the role running, ready and capable, and give it your all!!! Here’s to all of the future success of the 20- to 30-somethings…see you at the top of the mountain!