Stop It with the Eyebrows

Ok ladies, I am going to be real honest, right here and now. These drawn on eyebrows and all the facial contouring has gotten out of hand! The girl who just prepared my tacos at lunch looked like she lost a fight with the soot in her fireplace. Don't get me wrong, I am aging and appreciate a little extra coverage on my sun-damaged jaw bones. I look at selfies on those days when I have been heavy-handed and wonder why I didn't stop earlier!?! So let's all agree to take a step back and put down the eyebrow wand and maybe get some counseling.

That being said, let's share some of our favorite products, shall we? [I do not sell any products, so please do not ask me to.] These few things are simple but helpful during this mom-of-a-busy-toddler season I am in.

1-Mascara Primer
Use a Primer on your lashes. I love love love mascara and have been blessed with good eyelash DNA. But, I do tend to go overboard- once I start, I can't stop. But it is necessary to stop before your eyelashes look like spider legs. Use a primer to help curb your application of the black stuff.  This primer is my favorite.


2- Ulta Illuminating Powder
Get some. But go easy girls. Just dust your T-zone with it for a fresh glow.

3- Mario Badescu facial sprays.
I have no idea if these provide therapy to my skin, but in the hot summer in the south, they feel incredibly refreshing. I love the feeling of my freshly washed face followed by a spritz with one of these. On Saturdays, I have one ritual- wake up, wash face, spray with this. Then coffee.






 4- Leave-in plus Keratin
My hair goes through a lot. It is very fine and gets lots of teasing and chemical abuse from blonde to brown to blonde to brown. You know my pain, surely. When I get out of the shower, I hate combing through my hair because it's extremely susceptible to breakage. So, I spritz a tiny amount (maybe 3 pumps) over my whole head to help with the detangling. Then I let my hair air dry while I move on to heavy-handed mascara mentioned above! This smells yummy too!







5. Buxom Peach Daquiri lip gloss.

My friend, Coco, fusses at me for only wearing nude lipgloss. She once (maybe twice) made me try that lip stain stuff that folks are selling (again, with the selling!) No ma'am. I just can't do it. Look here, I have pics from high school and college that prove my love for dark red lipliner, but when I wear it now, I feel like I am just a bit extra. I like eyeshadow and mascara, as mentioned in #1 above. So you can't do both without looking like a clown So let me tell you about the perfect lip gloss that MAC discontinued on me. It was called Florabundance. And it was the perfect shade, thickness and opaqueness (is that a word?) Did you know that MAC has a hotline that you can call to purchase discontinued items? It is called the gone-but-not-forgotten program ((855) 484-2840). The sweet lady that answered the phone is pleasant, and she should be because she holds banking hours that are very inconvenient to the rest of humanity. But, alas, they have, not once but twice, shipped me 6 tubes of the Florabunce goodness. But the day finally came where the all deserts had been combed for my supply and there was no more. It was a sad sad day. So I set out to find a replacement and I have tried many brands. This is the only one that comes close and it comes with a bonus tingle!


What products are you into at this moment? Share them with us! Especially if they are inexpensive and make you feel beautiful! We could all use a little more of that!

Fireworks and Paper Gowns.

I am bonefide redneck when it comes to fireworks. I love fireworks. I love the thrill of knowing my eyebrows might not survive or a grass fire may take out the whole doggone neighborhood. I love all the the New Year's celebrations and the kissing!

Daniel and I used to spend New Year's Day skiing in Colorado for several years in a row and it was dreamy. Becoming parents of a toddler, has forced us to be close to home for the past two years, but as soon as she is old enough, she will have sparklers in hand, hopefully zooming down a ski run! This morning, we were so thankful to have spent the evening with Maggie. We ate dinner, lit one sparkler and had a little dance party in the living room. Daniel and I celebrated the midnight hour twice- with the Eastern Time Zone and then again with Central. What a slow and thankful way to ring in the new year with our people.

Everyone is reflective on the last day of the year and hoping for the new year and so it goes... we want to be the best version of ourselves, we want prosperity, we want love and laughter and balance. I am no different than you. But I want to take the time to reflect on all that 2017 gave us. Joy and Sorrow. Gain and Loss. Pain and Health.

Daniel and I have been reminiscing about the front-row seat we shared watching a toddler grow this year. She learned to walk. She learned to use a fork and spoon. She learned to dance and shake her bottom- my personal fave. She learned to put items back where they belong- like shoes back in the drawer. She learned to brush her teeth. She learned to draw and color. She began to understand every single word we say. It is truly remarkable. Her favorite words are Daddy, No, Apple and Shoes. I die a thousand deaths everytime she says "shoes"- it is the cutest thing you will ever hear. By the end of the year, she had a very clear bedtime routine that includes drinking milk while watching Daniel Tiger, turning off our Christmas Tree lights, climbing onto her stool to brush her teeth, then grabs blank and pacifier and lets Daddy say night-night prayers while holding her in his arms. She does this same thing, every.single.night. The joy I have experienced this year watching her and learning more about myself through her, is like nothing I have ever felt.

At the beginning of 2017, I was still battling postpartum hormones, anxiety and back pain. And now at the end of 2017, my husband is saying "I am so glad to have my wife back." Shew, it was a doozie! This year is ending very differently than it began. I am so, so thankful.

I got myself back in the gym on Monday, Wednesday and Friday each week for a HIIT class- gained a whole lot of muscle and whole lot of friends. I had to dig deep to get over the fear of putting my clean little baby girl in a nursery at the YMCA. (and she is still alive, the germs, in fact, did not kill her.) The back pain only got worse when I was sedentary- so I took responsibility and started moving.

I saw a Rheumatologist for the unrelenting back and joint pain I was experiencing. I wanted a solution. It was hindering every aspect of my life. In my mind, I was concerned that it might be something like fibromyalgia or rheumatoid arthritis. He ran a bunch of tests and, to my relief, no auto-immune markers appeared. My vitamin D was just really, really low. And low vitamin D levels can cause bone pain in addition to the fatigue. So he gave me a strong vitamin D supplement and in one week- I was a new woman. I mean, like, overnight. 

I also had a melanoma removed from my leg and a basal cell carcinoma removed from my eyelid. [The dermatologist also happens to be a friend, so it gets a little awkward waiting for her in my paper gown.] I now have appointments to get naked in front her, every 3 months for the next two years. For that, I am thankful. But that's enough about that- I sound like an 80 year old. Shew. Movin' on. 

At the beginning of 2017, I deeply missed the beauty of Colorado Springs (and still do) but knew that Oxford is exactly where we are supposed to be right now in this season. So I got over it, and let myself be available to new relationships and small town living. On New Year's Eve, as I am sitting in church, I looked around and realized the opportunity we have had to do just that. Our lives have been enriched by relationships here. Our neighbors have become like family,  we have friends who are in the same stages of life along side us, and we are within a few hours drive of family.

Daniel hosted 12 men for a small group at our home this Fall to read through "Kingdom Man."

I hosted 10 college girls over the Summer for a small group to read through "Captivating." These are new relationships that enriched our lives. 

We have gotten to know an Ole Miss student named Steven. He was the Chaplain for his fraternity, Sigma Chi. He was longing for a mentor and saw Daniel at church and decided he wanted to get to know us. We wanted to get to know him. A new relationship for us to invest in, that has been life giving to us. He loves God, he loves investing in other people and we have loved encouraging him along his path. A new relationship that has enriched our lives.

In 2017, I watched my friend, Heather Land (yes, our names are almost identical) become an internet superstar with her completely ridiculous snapchat videos. She began to support her family financially from this new found stardom. Now, her life, as a single mom/worship leader, has completely changed. I walked with her through a divorce a few years ago in Colorado Springs, soothing her doubts and fears after becoming single. And now, she has moved her children to Nashville, so that she can do what was born to do- live her life as a full-time singer/songwriter and, now, a comedian apparently, ha! It has been an unbelievable whirlwind. I am so stinking proud for her. She really is that sarcastic and funny- it's not an act!

At the end of this year, I also reflect on those who have deep sorrow. My friend, Lauren Palmire Morrow, lost her 4-year old daughter, Eliza, very suddenly and unexpectedly. This precious family has felt the depth of sorrow. The unexplainable depth of sorrow. They did not know this would happen in their 2017. I have watched them drudge through the valley of the shadow of death using a hashtag #Godisgoodallthetime. I have been inspired by their faith and their perseverance. Their sorrow is not gone when the clock strikes midnight. Yet, they continue to teach their children of God's love and provision for their lives in the year ahead. 

In 2017, I asked God to show me joy, the deep deep joy that only He provides. I wanted to be myself again. I begged him to lighten the postpartum load from me and show me moments of pure joy with my daughter. He did exactly that. He nudged me to watch her grow, to watch my husband push her in the swing through the window, to watch her dance in the backseat, to delight in her figuring out a puzzle all on her own. I am so thankful for the past year and the grace that I received from friends, family and my husband. Their grace helped me move forward. So, I encourage you to show grace to others in this new year- for they may be fighting a battle you know nothing about! 

We have no clue what the new year holds for us. Illness, natural disasters, senseless gun violence, international threats of terrorism, political mayhem and deceit, injustice all around us- so many things to steal our hope and joy. We plan and declare as we stare the new year in the eye. We can't control what happens to our lives or those we love, but we can know that God is good all the time. I hope that you will turn off the news, put your phones down more frequently, and turn your face toward your children and connect with your people, your dreams and your blessings. 

2 Corinthians 4

8) We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9) persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10) We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 

16) Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17) For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18) So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

Becoming a mom.

Ok, so my daughter is 17 months old. Technically, I am not a "new" mom, but- whoa- do I still feel like every day is new. During Maggie's first year, I could not have written logically from the perspective I have now. I was still hungover from sleepless nights and the drama of a human being delivered out of my abdomen. Daniel and I were as ready for baby as we could have been. We are older parents- we felt financially ready, emotionally ready and we had heard all the funny and horrific stories from our siblings and friends about becoming parents.
Which means we were not ready. No one is ready.

(and btw....I never understood why moms told their child's age in "months" but here I am doing the same thing. I get it now.)

So many things have come as a surprise in motherhood, here are a few of those things.

My back. Oh my back. No one told me that I would spend most of motherhood bent over. It wasn't until after a c-section, nursing and sitting hunched over for a few months that people started saying "Oh yeah, your back will never be the same." Like this was common knowledge. Had I known then what I know now, I would have been deadlifting and squatting in the gym every-single-day during my pregnancy. Oh, If you are expecting a baby- get to the gym and strengthen your back, glutes and core. Don't hesitate, go right now.

Every day is new and filled with trial and error experiments. ALL DAY LONG. My brain has never been so tired. I only read one book about babies- "On Becoming Baby Wise." And, yes, that book taught us how to handle the sleep schedule, but everything else was hit or miss. I try very hard to respect Daniel by not asking ridiculous questions that started with "Hey, do you think we should ....?" because he didn't know the answer either! We have been learning together.
(A recent blog I read on this very topic of mom exhaustion. )

Keeping another human alive while helping her develop into a brilliant multi-lingual neuroscientist comes with a lot of pressure, right!? In all seriousness, can all of us young mothers take a long, deep breath and chill out? Like, chill way out.  If I am not driving myself loco googling things in the middle of the night- no worries- another mom will come along and plant seeds of doubt in my parenting for me. I had no idea this would happen. From breastfeeding and food choices, to development markers and choosing the right sippy cup. Can we just all admit we are doing the best we know how?!
The best information I have received has come from my pediatrician and my sister- not blogs, not online forums, not surveying everyone on Facebook- nope! Too much information will make you doubt everything and further the culture of comparison that can steal every single ounce of joy from motherhood. Choose wisely.

Everyone loves babies. I was not expecting that and I have loved every minute of it. Strangers will help you get a shopping cart, they want to peek in and tell you how beautiful she (he) is. Old, young, they all want to dote on your baby everywhere you go. It was so surprising to me. It's like babies are the connector of all humanity.
(One exception- the airport. No one smiles at you when you are carrying a baby through an airport- the opposite is true. They want nothing to do with you and hope to god that you are not sitting next to them on their flight.)

Passive aggressiveness takes a whole new meaning when a baby is involved.
What do I mean?
Someone talking to your baby in a really sweet baby voice saying things like 
"are your little hands cold? Mama needs to get some gloves on you."
I never knew this was going to happen, but a new mom hears everything as an insult or criticism because she doubts she is doing anything correct. Another thing I have to keep in perspective.
When you see a new mom, compliment her. Tell her she is doing a great job.


We are blessed by so many generous people! I am still so surprised by everyone's generosity to my daughter. The only articles of clothing we have to purchase are pajamas. We are constantly receiving boxes of girl clothes from family, friends, neighbors. (in addition to all the dresses her grandmas buy her) I am so thankful!

My husband is still my #1 priority and I am his. This is a what we will teach our daughter. She does not come between Mom and Dad. If we do not take care of this, our family will surely implode. The first 5 years of our marriage was dreamy with just the two of us. I have changed. Daniel has changed. Change is inevitable when you become parents. We are forced to be home for naps and early bedtimes. No last minute concerts or movie. We do not have the freedom we once had. It took us a little while, but I feel like we have accepted this. So dates look a little different. At least once a week, we meet for a coffee date at 6am- we wake up earlier than usual and sit and drink our coffee on the back porch and talk. Intentional. Not expensive, doesn't require a sitter. It just requires intention.

The best advice I received from others was about establishing a routine. In my previous non-mom life, the word routine felt too rigid for me. I thought of myself as more of a free-spirit who does not like to be backed into a corner with a schedule. Before being parents, we declared that our baby would adapt to our way of life and live by our schedule. (the best parents are the ones who have no kids right?) But my, oh my, how I have changed. I quickly learned that defining a schedule for a baby was important. Maggie came into this world as an easy, laid back child who liked her sleep and adapted to a sleep schedule easily. Now, as she is getting older and more adaptable, I still rely on our routine for my sanity. I had no idea that would happen. Call me rigid.

I miss her. By the end of every day, my energy is zapped and I look forward to her 7:30 bedtime. Two hours later, Daniel and I start talking about the day. I show him some pics I snapped during the day or share a story about something she did- and then we say "Awe, I miss her."
WHAT IN THE WORLD?

Becoming a mother has been has shown me new strengths and revealed the depth of my selfishness. No other season of life has brought so much change. And we are better for it! What a delight she is.

The year without her.

It is hard to believe that a year has passed since the phone call on that Thursday evening. The news sucker-punched me in the lungs standing in front of Proud Larry's on Lamar Boulevard. Daniel and I had a babysitter lined up for the first time since moving to Oxford- we were having a night on the square with dinner and a concert. When I saw that I missed a call from Courtney Yancey, I called her back immediately because when she calls it must be important, or else, it is simply a text. I didn't know what to do. I was helpless and I wanted to hit my knees right on the pavement. I made quick arrangements for my 5 month old and hit the road to Jackson first thing the next morning.

When I saw Roxanne lying in that ICU bed, my first instinct was not what you would expect. I didn't cry quietly. Instead, I paced around her bed and I roared at her. I grit my teeth, clinched my jaws and I told her to fight. "You better fight this Roxanne. You got this. You are the strongest person I know. We need you here. You have too much to do here Roxanne. You have too much on this earth to do. You can't leave us. Fight this. Fight girl. I need you to blink your eyes. I need you to talk to me. I need you here Roxanne. Don't you quit. Don't you stop fighting." 

If you knew Roxanne, you understand why yelling through my clinched jaws was the appropriate tone to use with her.  And if you think that praying requires a fancy show in a church building, then I encourage you to visit an ICU hallway any day of the week. You will see pacing prayer non-stop from desperate hearts in shock. We all were in disbelief. We were clinging to any explanation that any doctor might utter. On that Friday, she was still in a medically induced coma and they would begin warming her body that afternoon to measure brain activity. We knew the medical team had discovered a blood clot in her right leg and she would lose it. Our response was ok, she can live without a leg. And even though that road would be tough, people live successful lives without legs every day. That is all we knew at that time. It was concrete. We even shared a laugh about how mad she was going to be about her leg. 

I visited her bedside often over the next 48 hours just to watch her chest move up and down- but my tone softened with her and I just wanted to hold her hand- and her perfectly manicured purple nails. (She always had her nails painted dark because of the dyes used in hair color would stain her nails- she was the best hairstylist on this planet.) 

On Saturday, her brain scan. A family meeting was planned for 3pm and revealed that she had a massive stroke, from which she did not recover. The unimaginable had happened. Her time with us was over. I remember every single detail of those 3 days and as commonly occurring with grief, I am recalling those details this weekend.


White punk hair that she could turn classy in an instant. She could take a pair of scissors to clothes and redesign to fit her needs. She owned every room she was in. Women would watch her with envy of her confidence and the impeccable style all her own. It was a huge honor to be called "her friend" because the line was long with people who just wanted to be around her. She and I were Lifers. Met in elementary and we were supposed to share a room in the nursing home to wreak havoc together. Roxanne was always teaching folks something- whether about fashion or Jesus- there was always something. (One of my favorite quotes of her's- "Come on down off that cross, we are going to need that wood."- when folks are acting a little too self-righteous.) She was hard as nails but stood up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves. She made people feel important (unless she didn't like you, and...well... you knew it.) Her yes was "yes" and her no was "oh hell naw."


Her absence in my life has taught me more that I ever imagined and I want to share a few things with you....

Take pictures with your children and friends and aunts and uncles and cousins and neighbors and in front of your home and on ordinary Tuesdays and depressing Mondays on and on and on. Be IN the pictures. Moms- get in the video. Be silly on video. Be you on video. (I didn't say you have to post them, save them). Your child will not care about the 5 pounds you want to lose. You know what your child will care about? Was my mom tall or short? What did her laugh sound like? Did she like to dance? Could my mom sing? Get the pictures printed, store them away. Back them up and back them up again. Roxanne did my hair two weeks before she died and I did not take one picture with her in her new salon. I regret it, gosh, do I regret it. It has made me think- if I died today- what memories would I leave for my daughter? Would she have pictures of me holding her? Would she have pictures of me playing with her? Roxanne's daughter will know her mother by the stories we tell her and the pictures and videos we show her- they are incredibly important archives.

Closure is necessary. The words "did not suffer" are incredibly important to hear when the shock is sitting like 4000 tons on you and you cannot really hear anything else. Those words softened the blow. When I said goodbye to her body, the machines were still moving her chest up and down- inhaling and exhaling. For that, I am grateful, as many of her friends did not have the opportunity to see her and say their goodbye.

I wish I could visit her grave. She desired cremation and her wishes were granted. But, oh, I really wish I could go sit with her and leave flowers for her and maybe pour a shot of Jack Daniels on her tombstone. My opinion of cremation has changed since her death. My father died when I was a child and I grew up visiting his grave- it was tangible and helped me understand the finality of a person's body dying. My father's grave is nestled by both of my grandparents graves. It is a family affair and it is symbolic on so many levels for me. Purchasing plots in graveyards is not common in my generation like it was in my mother's. But I am saying it here and now- Put my body in a box, bury me and bring me flowers. It is not for me anyway- it is for my survivors. My soul will be with Jesus, as is Roxanne's.

Grief looks a lot like fear. Maggie was 5 months old when Roxanne died. So when you take postpartum hormones and stir it together with shock and grief what do you have? The perfect fear cocktail- and, boy, does it burn going down. (pardon the analogy, but she taught me everything I know about a sophisticated cocktail.) In September, I fell apart when Daniel left for a hunting trip on a plane alone because 'what if ' he didn't come back. I have imagined irrational scenarios of loved ones dying. I have feared death while driving down the interstate, while swimming, while browsing a shopping mall. This is not typically my personality. Grief has been a part of my life since I was 4 years old, but this time it was different for me. It was the assault of grief- this was definitely the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23). Roxanne will not be the last person that I lose in my lifetime. Death is certain. But fear does not have to be.

Courtney and I often talk about how Roxanne wants us to carry on and live full lives and be the best people we can be. She would be so mad at us for crying everytime we talk about her. She would be mad that I have experienced so much sorrow and fear since her death. In fact, she would be infuriated. I can imagine her pacing around me saying something like this "You better fight this Heather. You got this. We need you here. You have too much to do here Heather. You have too much on this earth to do. Fight this. Fight girl." I know she would say those same words to me that I said to her in that ICU room last year. That is what friends do. 

Colorado on my mind.

When Daniel and I were dating we often discussed how important traveling would be in our relationship- especially if we had children. We have made travel a priority in our relationship for a few reasons- to reconnect and have quality face time, to explore things unknown, to meet people who are not like us, and to feel small- to remember that this world is a big,big place filled with diversity. When I was a child, I only traveled with my church youth group and Daniel with his father's vocational conferences. In my single 20s, I looked for any reason to hit the road- friends in San Fransisco? I went. Chicago? I went often. New York? I went often. Boston? I went three times in one year. Roomate moved to Turkey? Yep, I went. Work trips too numerous to recall? Sign me up!

I met Daniel, a Mississippi boy, who lived in West Virginia and worked in DC- I went-with all of my bags packed. Then the move from the east coast to Colorado- where every weekend could have been a world-class vacation spot. While living in CO, we purchased a one week, every-other-year vacation rental in Breckenridge that, at the time, felt frivolous, but now that we have moved back to Mississippi, we are so glad we did. Living here "out west" changed me deeply. It taught me about genuine community. It taught me about simplicity. It taught me quietness. 

Here we are with a 15-month old who makes travel a bit more challenging but rewarding. We have scheduled 10 days back in CO hugging people we love dearly in Colorado Springs and then up to Breckenridge, just us 3. Maggie has crawled every inch of this condo and marked her territory. We have emptied our suitcases and plan to rest for a solid 7 days. It is "mud season" here with the snow melting and all of the skiers gone. It is quiet, quaint and we have the pools to ourselves. I am typing this with a cup of coffee on one side and Daniel reading on the other, waiting for our daughter to wake up. We are happy. I can see it in Daniel's eyes. We love Colorado- it will always be filled with so many wonderful memories of being newlyweds, where we became parents. We love the pace here. It is slow. It is chill. 

This is our first family vacation as a family of 3 and I am filled with gratitude. 

New Year. New Things.

It has been a dark, rainy day and I am sitting on my back porch stretched out with laptop and a cozy flannel. The rain occasionally splashes on my toes and I am wishing someone would show up with a warm cup of dark roast.

Daniel is in the garage building some additional storage-very productive on his day off. And I am sitting here proud of myself for turning New Year's leftover breakfast biscuits into tonight's Chicken Pot Pie.

We have spent quality time with family over the past two weeks of holidays- the very reason we moved back to Mississippi and our hearts are full. Maggie hit the 11-month old mark today and I still cannot believe she is ours- forever. The holidays were filled with laughs as she explored Christmas trees, dancing Santas and unwrapping packages for the first time. Only twice did she almost die on my watch. Once with a penny in her mouth and the second with a lego in her mouth.  {I once dated a guy who often said "almost doesn't count"-and for that I am very thankful.}

Here we are in 2017 and I am wondering what the year ahead holds for us. Most people are making new year plans with a new diet, new school, new jobs; and I would be lying if I didn't admit to purchasing some new colon cleanse on Amazon today (see, my sister-in-law made these amazing chocolate covered coconut balls and I ate 456,870,234 of them. No less.)

For me, 2016 was undoubtedly a paradox. Celebrating the birth of my daughter and mourning the loss of my dearest friend. A year that was filled withindescribable joy and incredible sadness. A year, surprisingly easy with a calm baby that was made difficult by the cloud of sorrow over my head. I have walked in postpartum depression and anxiety being smothered by grief. I have seen the brightest sunshine in my daughter's blue eyes and the darkest night in my own. 

My 2016 was filled with so much "new" - new baby, new postnatal back pain, left my job, moved back down south, husband's new job, rental house, new house, new friends, new church, new everything. So in 2017, I am not hoping for new. Nope. I am just hoping for beauty. I am hoping for quality. I am planning for purpose. I am planning for improvement. I am planning for the best version. Regardless of my plans, God has charted my territory. His purpose in last year's paradox is simple- He is always calling to Him. Always. In the light and in the dark. In the joy and the sorrow. His ways are always higher than ours. He is the giver of good things. I know that. 

I hope your 2017 is off to a good start. Now... I am going to brew that coffee...

Just an old fashioned love song.

Daniel and I have had the opportunity to share our dating story a few times over the past two weeks. We are 5 years into this marriage and I still get choked up when I tell of our unlikely odds of meeting each other. Shortly after we were married, I realized that my story could probably encourage a single girl out there somewhere- and what good is having an interesting journey if you do not share it!? Now that we live in a college town, I am asked often "How did you meet your husband" by a college girl with bright eyes- hoping that I will tell her a fairytale story.

When I was single, I shivered at the thought of reading books on "singleness" BLEH. 

Why? Because it went something like this... Be ok with being single. Your identity is in Jesus. Date Jesus (whatever the heck that means), Pray for your future husband, blah blah blah blah. 

All of those things written by women who were married with children. You know, the book or speaker or friend who tells you that your identity is in Christ, yet all they want to discuss with you is your dating life or the lack thereof. And they say things like "You will find someone" with the purest of intentions- as if you should be roaming and sniffing out the streets like a famished animal.

We talk about marriage to young women like it is a ranking or to something to be achieved. We talk about marriage as if it is a status that will earn us great accolades. Pick up a small town newspaper- you will find a photo of a young woman (alone) with wedding announcement. Where is her future spouse in the picture? Is she getting married to herself? I don't get it. Heck, watch The Bachelor (I refuse to) and watch the competition and parading of beauty and sex while it knocks us (women) back a couple of decades. Can we be honest about the marriages around us that are failing daily? 

So I approach this "telling of my story" very carefully. I do not want to forget the feelings I had as I celebrated all my friend's weddings. I had something like 17 bridesmaids dresses in my closet by the time I got married. I was single at the age that the bridal showers had turned into baby showers. I want to remain cognizant of the single girl I was- The girl who fought for her individuality and independence. The girl who sought adventure and spent any extra money on traveling. The girl who had a career and her own home. The girl who had goals. The girl who would not have been caught dead attending a Woman's Conference or being part of a Singles Group at church. 

Now as I reflect back when telling our story, I realize that what I had really was a gift. [Grab a single 28 year old to tell her that and you will get punched in the throat.] It was a gift because of the freedom that I had to discover myself. I look around and see many women who do not have the opportunity to shape the lives they want- they only get to shape the lives they share with someone else. I realize that I had a decade all to myself- to make big fat mistakes, to figure out what I liked and disliked, to figure out how to be true to myself. 

Little did I know, Daniel would be attracted to my independence the most. Little did I know, the timing was perfect. Little did I know, his journey was just as necessary as mine. Little did I know, the future of our joy together needed the wreckage of the decade before. 

That is all I want these young ladies (and guys) to hear. 

My message is NOT "look, if you pray hard enough, your fairytale will come"- that is based on the junk the world tells us to expect. Can we please get past that and approach this topic with maturity? Single folks need that from us. They need transparency. They need to see how marriage requires maturity and self-sacrifice and it should not be entered into like a Disney cartoon. 

Somehow, someway, this has become my message. And as long as single girls keep asking- I will keep answering. 

Heartbroken.

That is the only word I can use to describe the loss I (we) have experienced. It has been a month since I got the call that Roxanne had experienced the unimaginable. It has been a month since a hilarious text from her. A month since Ruby has seen her mother.

I have cried at some point every single day since July 7th.

I am carrying on in our new town and meeting new people. I want to wear a sign around my neck that says "I am smiling and seem ok, but inside I am a mess because one of my favorite people on this earth is gone. Please excuse my crying outbursts, I will be ok."

Grief is not new in my life. Grief has been the undertone of my life since my father passed away when I was a child. I lost both of my grandparents in my mid-20s. But I was not ready for this. I was not read to lose someone who brought such humor and fun to my life.

We are never ready for grief are we? It's not something you prepare for. It's not something that you get to practice in advance. I feel like this may have been easier to swallow if we had warning- if she had been suffering and death would have eased her.

Grief makes me feel overwhelmed with the most simple tasks, it makes me short-tempered and it makes me so so tired. It has made me feel like I am completely out of control. It has made me fearful of illogical things.

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” 
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

But grief does not steal my hope. Grief will not steal my hope.
I know that the Lord does not forsake His children. He has not forgotten us. He has not abandoned us. Jesus came to rescue us. He casts out all fear. Jesus shows us how to live when we don't want to carry on.

Because the weight of this would surely sink us.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.  

-Psalm 34:18

A Tribute to Roxanne.

A week has passed since we said goodbye to Roxanne. I cannot stop talking about her- because there is no one like her. Many have asked that I post my tribute to Roxanne from her Celebration of Life service. Feel free to share. 


We have gathered here, yes, because we all love Roxanne, but more than that-
we are all here today because she loved us.
She loved us hard.
She loved us loud.
And she loved us big.

The last few days have been filled with questions, sorrow, and uncertainties- but one thing I am certain of- today, the women in this room made sure their hair was on point.
Another thing I am certain of- she wants us to laugh.

This room is full of people who have countless stories to tell about Roxanne.All of our stories include laughter and some level of crazy. Stories that are filled with colorful language or might need to be censored.

We knew her as Roxie, Rox, Hot Dog, Spanky, Daisy. Her Roller Derby sisters know her as Cornbred Fed. But she absolutely hated when people would sing “Roxanne”

She was always busy dreaming, reinventing, creating – she recently text me and said “I can’t talk right now, I am too busy building an empire”.

She was busy making all of us feel better no matter what the cost. She was a successful hairstylist because she made everyone feel they were beautiful. That is a gift.

I was on the receiving end of a relentless loyalty.
She would chase you down if you messed with Heather.
She once called me and said “your ex-boyfriend had the nerve to come in for a haircut today- but don’t you worry sister- I gave him uneven sideburns, he won't be back.

I will never forget when she got her first tattoo. I ended up behind her at a red light- she gets out of her car pulls up her shirt and screams “look at this” and gets back in her car. As if that was normal. But this was normal for her, in middle school she used stand on the hood of my mother’s car mooning us, while my mom and her mom yelled at her to get down.

She loved art. She was an artist. She loved poetry and she loved to write (even though you can't read her handwriting).

She loved music and, my gosh, that girl loved to dance.
She squeezed in about 80 years of life into 37 short years.
She had stars in her eyes when she talked about God. And she served people well.

So what do we do after today?
We make the world a better place for her daughter by loving each other and living big.

I will leave you with the words Roxanne wrote on March 6.

Thank you to everyone!!! All of the Happy Birthdays on Facebook ... All of the sweet text. All of the thoughtful gifts. The older I get ... I see. I see how thankful I am for my very diverse friends. I love it and I feel so blessed by it. I embrace getting older. I'm thankful I've been able to do so. Life is short .... I've lived and loved every minute of it baby!! To love and be loved is the greatest gift of all. Take nothing for granted. Life .... Is too short!!!

FLY COS

Two years ago, I applied for the Marketing & Communications Manager position at the Colorado Springs Airport. I jokingly told my husband "I am applying for this job because if Beyonce ever flies here, I want to be the first to know!"

My final interview was with Mayor Bach in his office. A few days later, I was offered the job. Airport? What in the world was I thinking? I had no idea what I was getting myself into- BUT when the Mayor (of a city of a half-million people) offers you a job- you take it! What an opportunity. I knew nothing about air service, aeronautical business development or aircraft crisis management. People think they know airports because they fly, but I PROMISE- you have no clue.

On top of my public information duties, I was tasked with increasing enplanements. (I had never even heard that word until my interview, haha) Just as most small to mid-sized airports across the country, air service options had dwindled and our proximity to Denver International has and will continue to be a problem. I had several folks ask me "why in the world would you take this job? It has to be terrible." I will agree with them. It had it's challenges but it stretched me further than I could have ever imagined.


I spent the first year wide-eyed and taking notes in every meeting. I was one of only two females around the management table. My first week on the job I experienced a full-scale mass-casualty exercise complete with a smoking aircraft and actors in full makeup. During my time there, I launched a Premier Membership Program/Business Lounge making every decision from the terms of membership to the type of muffins to be served in the lounge. From snow plowing operations and international diversions to the Canadian Prime Minister and Air Force One- I can honestly say that this was a wild and crazy ride.

I am honored to have been given this huge responsibility and today I said goodbye to the hardest working city employees in Colorado Springs.

And to my friends in the Springs... please, please, please keep flying COS!

What's In a Name?

There were two questions that everyone would ask me during my pregnancy, and I do mean everyone- from the quiet male co-worker to the perfect-stranger-toothless-wonder at the movie theater they would all ask:
1- is it a boy or a girl?
2- What will you name "it"?
(those two questions are the foundation for another blog, trust me).

On February 2, 2016 at 4:00 pm, we named her Magnolia "Maggie" Lane Lenard.
Several Colorado friends have asked us how we chose her name, so I thought I would share with you. Because we didn't find out the gender via ultrasound, choosing names was super fun and kept us busy for many months! When choosing a name, it must pass my series of tests: "can you understand the pronunciation of the name over a voicemail" and "will it stereotype her on a job application" or "is this just a cutesy kid name or can it be a mature name."

I had a very funny great-grandmother whose name was Maggie (my grandfather's mother). This was on our list from the first day.

As we got closer to the end of the pregnancy, we decided that Maggie could be short for Magnolia, the quintessential flower of the South.
The magnolia flower is cherished for its majestic aroma and its trees are statuesque and beautiful. (Magnolia also means "Pearl"- the city where I grew up. Now this is funny to those of you who live in MS!)

In addition, my grandmother "Nanny," was an artist who often painted magnolias on canvas for friend's homes and all of us grandchildren have inherited her magnolia paintings. So as you can tell, it was the perfect fit for our baby girl. Nanny would be proud! We sure are.

Babies Don't Keep

My very talented friend Lacy Deese whipped this up one night right before I had our baby. What started out with a funny, left me in tears. Enjoy.

Twas 3 days before baby when all through the house

not a creature was stirring 

not even a mouse

Except when Heather got up in a hurry

And whispered to Daniel, "I want a Mcflurry."

Pretty soon all these cravings and wake ups will end 

But at 3 am when you wake, you'll have a new friend 

These sleepless nights when you get up 7 times to pee

Will turn into breastfeeding and Netflix on TV 

So here's to the nights of days gone by 

Of uninterrupted sleep and a twinkle in your eye. 

Now the twinkle will come from the love that you share 

For a babe whose days and nights are mixed up and it doesn't care! 

But oh how those nights you will treasure so

Hold on to them fondly and never let go 

Never let someone lead you to guilt or fright 

When they ask "is your baby sleeping through the night?"

And gently remember when you're begging for sleep 

To hold tight to that baby 

cause babies don't keep

Rock it and nurse it as much as you want  

And just watch its hair grow every day-

Cause if you don't...

One day it will be driving and awake you will lie

Wishing it were home where you could hold it tight 

Enjoy the moments your arms ache from the holding 

And take in all the sweet smells and soft skin you're beholding 

When you rock it for hours til your bottom is numb 

Remember it won't be long til the day will come 

That you'll miss these days even though they are hard 

And soak up the moments- don't let them be marred 

By misinterpretations of what's happening really-

Babies don't sleep through the night you silly! 

Its crying is simply its language to you 

It's telling you something- so listen for clues

The dirty diapers just mean that it's eating and growing 

So be thankful for each of the blowouts it's blowing 

Your clothes won't be quite as clean as before 

And you might cry real easy and your nipples be sore 

And all of its good- every single bit 

So bump it and rock it and don't ever quit 

And again don't forget when you're desperate for sleep...

To hold tight to that baby cause babies don't keep. 

What pregnancy has taught me.

It is 2:25 AM and I have eaten a bowl of cheerios (w/sliced banana)- just bragging because it is not sugary Fruity Pebbles this time. Sleeping has been the pits and this little nugget growing in my belly has a ferocious hunger in the middle of the night, every night. I am 3 weeks away from becoming a mother. Mother. WHOA. I said it. I never had this gut-wrenching longing to be a mom like many women describe. I did not play with baby dolls when I was a little girl and I do not yearn to hold people's babies.  I do not think this makes me any less of a woman, I have just never been ooey-gooey over babies. (But mine will be be most beautiful baby on the planet so you people better get ready!) In my mind, motherhood would come when the time was right- when my husband joined me in desiring to create a "family." So a few years ago, Daniel and I felt the time was right (that combined with my age) and here we are.
The physical part of pregnancy- the weight gain, the swelling and all the other not-so-glamorous things that come with carrying a child made me very,very afraid. My body image and my weight have always held so much power over my life- when I have been thin and overweight alike. In 5th grade, I was taller than everyone and as soon as puberty hit, I had a curvy woman's figure that didn't blend in with all the petite girls on my cheerleading squad. That alone taught me body-shaming. So the thought of discussing my weight every month with a doctor for 9 months did NOT sound like a fun occasion to which I wanted to be subject. But something amazing happened to me during this pregnancy without knowing it...

I GAVE MYSELF PERMISSION TO LOVE MY BODY. 
(Because it was no longer about me.)

A dear friend, who is also a licensed counselor, once told me "no one cares about your weight as much as you do, because they are too busy with their own insecurities." I see body-shaming in almost every woman I know. I can name very few women in my life who have a healthy relationship with their body and food. I am no different. But a few months into this pregnancy, I realized I was loving my growing belly and loving my glowing complexion. It made me proud. And to my surprise, my pregnancy has been a healthy one. I have only gained 6 lbs from my starting weight (now before you panic, it's because I lost 7 lbs during my first trimester because of food aversions). My blood pressure, glucose levels and every other test that 36-year-old pregnant women have to undergo, have all been within a healthy range. 

Now that I am packing my hospital bag and prepping for life after delivery, I think about my post-pregnancy body and how I will treat it. I am prepping to focus on health, physically and emotionally, so that I never lose this loving feeling. Life is too short and my family will need me to be the best me and that doesn't mean skinny- it means balance and loving myself. 

So today ladies, I challenge you to work toward loving and accepting your body. Give yourself permission to do so- you just might be surprised what health comes from it.

*Pregnancy has also taught me how to tie my shoelaces really, really quickly- but I will save that for another post.

Quirky Food

As I am typing this, Daniel is sitting next to me enjoying a bowl of Fruity Pebbles that I bought these in a moment of "hmmm I am pregnant and these sound really right about now."  It prompted me to tell him about the time I was on a Fruity Pebbles kick in college and I ate them for about 2 weeks solid- nothing else. And then there was the Coleslaw kick in my early twenties. I experimented with coleslaw recipes and ate it for about 4 days straight- nothing else. Then there was the tilapia kick. I didn't eat seafood until I was about 22 years old and then I didn't stop.

So these weird eating habits are nothing new to me and make me feel kinda normal because I have pregnancy as an excuse. When I was a child, learning to cook for myself, my favorite breakfast was a fried ham sandwich on toasted bread with mayo and pickles. My mom let me do it and to this day, I still get giddy when I can make this for breakfast without Daniel being totally grossed out by morning pickles.  

I pride myself in cooking with fresh herbs and spices, experimenting with new recipes and opening my home for community around the dinner table. The food aversions with this pregnancy have been very strong, leaving me pushing food around on my plate with a fork and barely able to handle the smells in the grocery store and kitchen. (The reason Daniel is eating Fruity Pebbles for dinner.) Everyone tells me it will get better- so for now I will just embrace the quirkiness that has always been but just blame it on the baby!

                       

Waiting and waiting and waiting

An unpublished blog from March 2014....

It seems like the past three months have been filled with sickness, searching and surrender. It has been almost two full months since blogging last. I think my last post was written while I was high on prescription steroids to fight pneumonia. It's taken a while, but my lungs and sinuses are on the mend from a tough winter season. And I am glad to see summer on the way! (Colorado summers are what gets me through the snowy season!)

I am 24 hours away from starting a new chapter in my life professionally. This is bringing a 6-month chapter of waiting to an end.  I left my job in a local school district in October to gain clarity, to find parts of me that had been lost, to attempt to "sell myself" as a consultant, to dream about my own business, to spend some time in the home we had just purchased, and most of all to wait for the next stage. It was a feeling that was hard to explain to others. Most people looked at me with confusion when I couldn't answer their question "what are you going to do now?" I realized that I was leaving a paycheck behind and that is a place of vulnerability for most of us. Vulnerabilty that feels like a blindfold made of steel wool. But I knew I needed to leave and the only answer I could muster was "I will WAIT for the right opportunity."

Over the last 6 months, I have had various consulting gigs that have kept me busy. I have also had snowy days where I didn't get out of my pajama pants until 3pm (just in time to spot-clean the house and convince Daniel that I had been productive.) Those days are not good for me. There have been days of disappointment when a potential client didn't respond to a proposal I had sent, there were days that I had three projects happening at once. One thing was consistent though, I was waiting.
I have sat at our dining table toiling and praying and crying and toiling some more.

Most people see me as a free-spirit, but in this waiting I had turned into a worrier. The Lord showed me time and time again that when I draw near to Him, that is the only place where I find peace. When I have been awake at 4am with my bible in my lap, that is where I find answers. When my soul longs for Him, my needs are met. Why do we ever doubt that?

A young professional crisis

It's been 8 months since I landed a highly visible job working for the city-  a "big girl job" at the table with a bunch of men. I can be invited into an important meeting with a distinguished citizen, business owner or elected official at the drop of a hat! Which means, I can't roll out of bed and skip washing my hair. It also means I am on the news almost weekly.
This "has-been" pageant girl loves the opportunity to wear a suit and heels and I am doing a lot of that these days! So with that in mind, I am sharing some of my "best practices" that I enforce at work and maybe you have some to add....

Get to know a tailor. 
Don't look like a child playing dress up in your mom's clothes. Have those favorite pieces hemmed or taken up. It doesn't have to cost a fortune to look put together. And your suits don't have to be expensive, they just need to fit well.

No one should ever see your cleavage in the workplace. No one. 
Keep it modest ladies, this is not the time to prop those puppies up for all the world to see. Wear a camisole or tank if you must. Be classy and dress for the job you want. Test your clothes before leaving your house- bend over, bend down, reach up, sit, squat. If these pass the test, then you are ready.

Wear a watch. 
In order to be on time, you have to know the time. When you are in a meeting, a casual glance at your watch is far more discreet than digging out your iPhone just to get the time. Plus, if you have notifications on your screen, they can create an unwelcome distraction from your current meeting. It's rude. Get a watch.

Buy the right undergarments. 
I am the first to admit that I hate spending a lot of money on good "support" but it's a must. Undergarments that you don't have to tug or pull when you stand or sit. And for goodness sakes, your bra strap should never ever show.

Keep your shoes tidy.
Colorado can be hard on shoes. I buy cheap trendy shoes with the rest of you, but I am learning that quality in this department is vital. Keep a shoe shine cloth or brush in your desk.

Be careful with trend.
I love jewelry. (And I hate Khaki. You will never, ever see me in Khaki.)
Many times I remove my earrings or necklace prior to an on-camera interview. This is when good judgement comes in handy- if you have on a busy print, go slim on the jewelry. Ask if yourself if your accessories are a distraction. I once listened to a Communications Director speak at a professional luncheon and didn't hear a word she said because of her neon-green plastic earrings that matched her neon green eye-shadow. It left me wondering about her intelligence. Don't give people a reason to discount your skills.

Nail polish.
Ugh. Nail polish. It should be clean and simple. And when it starts flaking off, please please TAKE IT OFF WITH REMOVER!! Keep disposable nail polish remover wipes in your desk if you have to. And what is up with all of the crazy designs for nails these days? I do not think it appropriate for a professional job. That's my two cents. I notice people's hands and if you are dealing with customers or upper management, your nails need to be a priority.

This rant brought on by the lack of concern I see in many young professionals. Dress for the job that you want. And when someone tells you "you don't have to dress up for this job" -you smile and reply, "I know."

Another one about Daniel

Yes it is 4:25 am and I am blogging. Maybe all the meds for this pesky pneumonia are to blame. I have not had a restful night of sleep in almost a week now. Daniel has been a trooper. Seriously. I have coughed so much during the night this winter, that I am surprised he hasn't left me for the sofa permanently. Tonight I jokingly said "check on me in the middle of the night and make sure I am still breathing." He quickly responded "That is not even funny. Pneumonia is serious stuff."
I married a man who knows my body language so well that it only takes a glance into my eyes or a change in my breathing pattern to know when I am not ok. I suppose most can say the same about their spouse. But indulge me here, I am still in awe of it.
He takes care of me. He does not ask if I need anything, he just does it. Water? He brings it. Meds? He makes sure I have taken them. My favorite quilt? He knows where to find it. Phone charger plugged in on my nightstand? Every night. This list goes on, but I will spare you.
Tonight, as he was drifting off to sleep, his hand landed on my pillow next to my face. I clasped his hand and I could feel his wedding band under mine. Fighting back the tears, my heart was overwhelmed. The way he cares for me is the purest devotion I have ever known (well, second to that of my mother.) I saw it from the beginning. I knew it when I met him. It is second nature to him. This is the reason it only took 10 months of dating him to say "I do" to him.
A little pneumonia has not been and will not be the biggest thing we go through, but I know this... He will not let me "go it alone." He is selfless when it comes to taking care of me. He shields me and he strengthens me.
This is why getting married at 31, every second I waited and longed for marriage, has been worth it. He was worth it. Single girls...watch how he takes care of you when you are sick. Pay attention to the ways he tends to you when you are weak. Believe his behavior. These things matter if you plan to join your life with someone else. I promise they matter!

Fear not

The bible says "Fear Not" 314 times. (Now before any of you debate how many times it appears, just know that is not the purpose here).
In Psalm 27, David writes "The Lord is my light and my salvation-whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of who shall I be afraid? When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. Thou an army besiege me, my heart will not fear, though war break out against me, even then will I be confident"

From the outside, I don't display much fear. I am not afraid to go to new places alone. I am not afraid of change or speaking up for myself. I am typically not afraid of someone attacking me. I usually don't make enemies and, to my knowledge, no army has tried to besiege me. SO, let me tell you what fear does look like in my life. Fear shows up when I quit my job and try to start my own endeavors. Fear showed up when I was single and not sure if I could pay all of my bills from month to month. Fear shows up when I can't get my mom on the phone and I hope she is ok. Fear shows up when feeling that I lack skills needed to achieve or produce work. Fear in my life looks like FEAR of myself. FEAR of my circumstances. FEAR shows up in the form of shame and vulnerability. FEAR in the form of flesh.

I have a hard time depending on others to help me out of an emotional pit. I have a hard time expressing how I feel when I am afraid. I don't want to be a nuisance. So I withdraw. I overeat. I don't exercise. I gaze at the television. I don't live. This is the way you will see fear in my life.

So what does Psalm 27 tell me? The Lord is my light and my salvation. WHOM shall I fear? This doesn't give me permission to fear myself. I am the army. I am the evil men. He wants to redeem those parts in me too. This is why I have to spend time in scripture, this is why I have to state God's truth in my life, and this is why I have to ask God to change my life on the daily. If not, the result is me. Just me. My flesh, the deceit of my mind and heart, devouring me in those moments of fear.

I love verse 13 and 14: I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord: be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.



-Heather

Empty questions

I want all of you to read this if you haven't already. This excerpt is from a blog written by Glennon Doyle Melton and it has been shared all over Facebook (click here to see the original blog) While I can't directly identify with her "mommy-perspective," I can identify with HATING the question "how was your day?" Empty questions elicit the same empty answers.

I have a friend here in Colorado Springs who is the best listener I have ever met. Her name is Sarah Smith. She is a busy mom of two baby boys, yet she asks me questions about things we talked about MONTHS AGO! She knows the names of my siblings and my nieces and nephews who live across the country. She remembers what I have mentioned liking and things I dislike. I want to be a listener like her. I want to be a friend like her. I want to ask the questions that make people feel known. 

We have the power to give life with our words. We have the power to heal with our words. We have the power to open hearts with our words. The problem is that when we live with someone day-in and day-out, we forget to craft those words. 

Today, as Daniel was leaving, instead of saying the typical "Have a good day" (WHATEVER THAT MEANS!?!?!?) I chose different words. As he was getting in the car, I said "Make someone feel special today." He has the power to do that very thing, especially in his position of authority.

I love what this writer says about not asking her kids "How was your day" and the questions she asks them instead. I hope you will read her entire blog, here is the gist....

Portion from the original blog by Glennon Melton

Through therapy, we learned to ask each other better questions. We learned that if we really want to know our people, if we really care to know them -- we need to ask them better questions and then really listen to their answers. We need to ask questions that carry along with them this message: "I'm not just checking the box here. I really care what you have to say and how you feel. I really want to know you." If we don't want throwaway answers, we can't ask throwaway questions. A caring question is a key that will unlock a room inside the person you love.

So Craig and I don't ask "How was your day?" anymore. After a few years of practicing increasingly intimate question asking, now we find ourselves asking each other questions like these:

When did you feel loved today?

When did you feel lonely?

What did I do today that made you feel appreciated?

What did I say that made you feel unnoticed?

What can I do to help you right now?

I know. WEEEEEIRRD at first. But not after a while. Not any weirder than asking the same damn empty questions you've always asked that elicit the same damn empty answers you've always gotten.

And so now when our kids get home from school, we don't say: "How was your day?" Because they don't know. Their day was lots of things.

Instead we ask:

How did you feel during your spelling test?

What did you say to the new girl when you all went out to recess?

Did you feel lonely at all today?

Were there any times you felt proud of yourself today?

And I never ask my friends: "How are you?" Because they don't know either.

Instead I ask:

How is your mom's chemo going?

How'd that conference with Ben's teacher turn out?

What's going really well with work right now?

Questions are like gifts -- it's the thought behind them that the receiver really FEELS. We have to know the receiver to give the right gift and to ask the right question. Generic gifts and questions are all right, but personal gifts and questions feel better. Love is specific, I think. It's an art. The more attention and time you give to your questions, the more beautiful the answers become.

Life is a conversation. Make it a good one.