Andi Meade

Lately I’ve had a tendency to blurt out things at odd times.  It all started shortly after I moved here, and I was in Starbucks, hugely pregnant and emotional.  The lady handed me my chai tea, and I started crying and saying, “I’m just so tired!”.  She looked at me sympathetically, but still charged me for the tea, and I’m pretty sure warned her boss about the crazy woman weeping in one of the big comfy chairs.

You know how when you meet a new couple or a new friend, it’s almost like you’re trying to win them over, to impress them with your wisdom and wittiness.  Instead, I seem to want to get all the weird things about me out of the way first, and then see if they are still interested in being my friend.  Or acknowledging my existence.  Tonight we had a couple over who I feel certain will be dear friends of ours – if I have not scared them away.  Over the course of the evening, I told Nita that I sometimes left dishes in the dishwasher for multiple cycles until they get clean, instead of taking them out and cleaning them myself.  I admitted to letting my children wear the same clothes days in a row.  I ate a ridiculous amount of oreos in front of her.  I admitted my love for How I Met Your Mother.  This may seem strange, but I realized, I’m tired of not being authentic Andi, and frankly I stink at it.  The real Andi is awkward at times, always looking for a reason to laugh, and is, again, watching an episode of Christy as I write this.

And then it occurred to me how often the authentic Andi goes missing during conversations with God.  Not that He’s not aware of her, but I sure can fake it, even in my mind, when I’m talking to Him, which does prove that you can actually lie to yourself.  Here I was, willing to tell Nita about my crazy obsession with books, but I try to hide from Him my willingness to let books be an idol for me.  It comes so easily to me, to try and fool Him.  Thankfully, not only does He love me, but He is also in possession of a great sense of humor, and uses it often to teach me lessons.

By the way, Nita is teaching me to cook.  She must love me after all and considers me her bosom friend.  (Sorry, somewhere in there Anne of Green Gables came into the conversation, and she takes up residence in my mind for a few days.)

My two babies are down for naps in their separate rooms, however in the span of a day they seemed to have come up a with a secret language, because they are talking back and forth and cracking each other up.  This does not bode well for the days and years ahead.  (It sounds like they’re playing olly olly oxen.  I have no idea how to play but it’s fun to say and maybe they think so too.  Or maybe it’s their codeword.  Or maybe I’ve been around babies too long and am in need of sane, adult conversation.)

I have never thought that I would be one of those parents who wouldn’t allow their children to watch TV.  I watched it as a kid, and I’m fairly certain that I turned out quite decent.  However, I’ve felt very convicted in the last few weeks to turn the TV off.  At first this was hard for Callie.  She loves her Barney and the Wiggles.  She likes the Sprout channel.  These are all good shows with good morals.  But I just felt that we needed a change, and so off the TV went.  For a few days, Callie seemed to be at a bit of a loss as to what to do with herself.  And then she got over it and started playing, really playing.  And on top of that, she became incredibly easier to manage.  She was happier.  She was calmer.  She’s started playing with her brother.  We have Christian music playing a lot, and she shocks us by how much she can sing along.  She’s more into her books.  And then there are moments of silence that seem to calm all of our spirits.

Now, I’m not banning TV for life, and in a few short days, the Wiggles Christmas video will make it’s annual debut.  But this has been so rewarding for all of us.  Granted, it does make more work for me, because I have to find things to entertain her.  But, I’m a stay at home mom.  It’s sorta my job to do this.  And it has made my relationship with Callie stronger, and given me many more opportunities to teach her things, as she has entered the “what’s that?” stage.

Anybody have thoughts or experiences, one way or another, on this topic?

Last night, after Philip got home, I decided to go out by myself to one of my happy places.  I mean that literally, not figuratively.  My top two happy places are a bookstore, and Starbucks, so the fact that I was headed to Barnes and Noble made it a very special night and me a very happy girl.  On the way out of the door, Philip said, “Andi, you don’t need to buy any books, you’ve got tons you haven’t read yet.”  This was of course a token expression, since the minute I walked back in the door, he asked casually, “What did you buy?”, with no surprise whatsoever when I answered, “Only two books.”

That was only one part of the night that made it fantastic.  The other one caught me by complete surprise.

I saw Christmas lights!  On November 2!  This made me so excited that I broke a rule I never break (I always break it).  I listened to Christmas music before my birthday.  Long ago, my parents set November 14, my birthday, as the first day that any Christmas decorations could come out and any Christmas music played.  This was wise of them, and I’ve tried to stick to it (not really).  In my defense, I listened to Andrew Peterson’s album, Behold the Lamb of God.  It’s not just Christmas music, but rather a story woven through the music of the plan of redemption and salvation.  It’s so beautiful and magical to me.  So that’s the only Christmas album I’m going to allow myself to listen to until my birthday. (Who am I kidding, we all know Bebo Norman’s Christmas album will be heard within the next 24 hours.)

Also, on a completely different and random thought, I’ve decided to keep a notebook with me at all times to write down things that Philip says. He’s not just awesome as a preacher and teacher at church, he’s awesome at all times.   He’s constantly amazing me with his insight, and my memory, let’s face it, is dreadful.  Sometimes I wonder why he bothers to even talk to me, since he is on a completely different level of intelligence.  For proof of this, read his blog and compare it to mine.  I’m certain you will find no mention of mice, Starbucks, or magical happy places in his.

Something happens to me when I get excited and committed to a cause.

I get really tired and decide I’d rather sit on my couch and read a book.

I swear, I think Satan slips something into my drink that causes me to lose all motivation.  Looking back over my life I can see this pattern happening again and again, and it’s a sad testament to my intellect that I’m just picking up on this.

I can come up with all kinds of excuses, and my dear friends, who don’t want my self-esteem to take a nose-dive, will agree, that I’m a busy girl, I’ve got two babies, one possibly a genius who is constantly trying to outsmart me, I’ve got a busy husband, and I’m a minister’s wife.  But when I take each one of those apart, there’s no good excuse left standing.  Yes, I have two babies who remarkably let me get, if I wanted to, at least 10 hours of sleep at night.  Philip is busy, but is constantly encouraging me to pursue what I am interested in.  And being a minister’s wife should only aid in my pursuit, not hinder it, since my causes tend toward evangelizing and assisting those in need (my other cause that is dear to my heart is to get children to read the classics.  I think there’s a better chance of the gospel spreading to all the world before that cause catches on).

So this is a call to prayer.  There are specific areas of ministry that the Lord has laid on my heart, and I need prayer that I will pursue these with a passion that only the Lord provides.  Also I suppose I need to pray over my beverages. 🙂

My kids are weird.  Truly, it’s not their fault, they had no chance of being anything else.  And this is all from my side.  Those who know me will agree.  Here is one example of their weirdness.  Callie Grace sleeps with a strange number of random things.  There are some staples, such as her blanket, bear, and papish (pacifier).  Usually she wants at least one book in the bed with her.  She’s asked for a certain purse that she likes.  Tonight she wanted her hairbrush with her.  She will also tell me exactly how she wants the temperature.  She will tell me to turn the heater on or off, and which fan she wants on, and which way she wants it pointed.  She’s two.

Justus is more simple so far.  He has two blankets, and he wants one on each side of him.  He has a few stuffed animals in there, and his papish.  But here’s his weird item: one of Philip’s socks.  A few weeks ago Philip was gone for a few days, and Justus found one of his socks and carried it everywhere he went.  Now it has to be in his crib.  Weird, right?

I will say however, that I am blessed beyond reason by the fact that Justus goes to bed at 6pm, and Callie goes to bed at 7pm, they sleep through the night and wake up around 7:30am.  Some of this was luck.  Most of it was determination on our part to get them on a good schedule so that Philip and I could have some time together.  They stick to this schedule well too.  Last night, at the annual Meade Halloween Party and Haunted House, there were probably 30 people mingling inside the house, kids running in and out, a haunted house going on downstairs with screams and such, and a 20 minute wait outside with loud kids waiting to get in.  And yet, at 6pm, Justus was done for the day, and went to bed, and Callie followed shortly after.  I promise, I do not use Benedryl to perform this miracle!  And yesterday, they both had an insane amount of sugar (I just am not going to be one of those mom’s that won’t let my kids eat candy, especially on Halloween!  I would have maybe limited Justus more, but someone (Uncle Peter) has a soft spot for my baby boy and fed him a Three Musketeers, and then Justus snuck off and ate a whole pack of skittles!  He’s 10 months old!  See, weird!).

Also, Callie came to me today and said, “Callie pushed me”.  Um… how to respond to that?

And to continue to update you on my dear friend’s Stephanie’s power of persuasion, I dressed as a cheerleader (pics on my facebook page)  and went through Philip’s haunted house.  What is the deal with that?!

I hope everyone had a fun and safe Halloween!

A few days ago Philip said four words I have always dreaded hearing.

We have a mouse.

After he said this, a million thoughts went through my head at once.  When are we moving?  What if it has rabies?  Is this the result of some sin in my life?  What am I going to name it? (That last one was followed by another internal thought, ‘”You idiot, you’re not naming the mouse.  It’s the enemy.”)  Maybe I should also note here that I have a tendency to name things.  Is anyone catching on to my neurotic tendencies here?  And yes, I am watching an episode of Christy while I type this.

Apparently he (the mouse, not Christy, in case I derailed a little too far with that last sentence)  has taken up residence downstairs, so I have avoided the downstairs as much as possible.  When I am down there he’s done me the courtesy of not making an appearance. (Dangit, his name is Maxwell!)

I confided in a friend, almost like making a confession in a whisper, that we had a mouse.  She laughed and said, “We caught 8 mice a few days ago!”  This was shocking to me.  First of all, I always thought having mice in the house was a sign of me being a bad housekeeper.  Apparently, mice are common here, especially as the weather turns cold.  Also, apparently, if there is one, there are probably more.  However, I’m certain that Maxwell is a hermit, or maybe a monk, and that is why he’s taken up residence in a pastor’s house, downstairs where all the books are. Right?

This morning, in a rare quiet, moment (Callie slept till 9am!!  Of course, she did sleep naked, but still!), I had an opportunity to watch the news.  Usually I just catch what I can online, since even the news has images and words I would prefer my babies not be exposed to yet.  Something that caught my eye on the scroll across the bottom of the screen was the headline, “Doctors encouraged to assess new mothers for depression”.  First of all, don’t most doctors do this?  Both of my doctors did, first in Kentucky and then in Colorado.  I’m pretty sure the problem is not the lack of assessment.  The problem may lie partly in the type of assessment.  My doctor in Colorado had followed me throughout my pregnancy, and she knew me well.  She took one look at me and knew.  My doctor in Colorado that I saw for aftercare was one of many in the practice, had never met me, and basically just handed me a form to fill out.  She took no time to look at me, really look at me.  Luckily, or rather blessedly, I did not struggle with post-postpartum depression after Justus was born.

But I think there’s just so much more to it.  I was fortunate in that I’m a counselor.  I knew something was seriously wrong with me.  I knew it wasn’t the “baby blues” and I wasted no time getting myself treated for it.  But most women aren’t aware of this.  So many people tell them “Crying just comes with the territory” and “You’ll get over it soon, it’s just your hormones”.  And then some women are just ashamed.  They have no idea why they are depressed after having their precious baby.  Maybe they are surrounded by church people telling them that they just need to pray about it, and the Lord will take care of it.  I’m not doubting that’s possible.  As I’ve previously posted, I know the Lord healed me from an unknown illness.  But the Lord also provided us with amazing physicians who developed wonderful medication to help women through those dark times.  And I know first hand just how dark those times can be, and how it is possible to see no light at the end of the tunnel.

So yes, doctors should assess for depression in new moms.  But also, those of us who have been through it, we should be a voice for this awful illness, we should keep a close eye on our dear friends and family, we should remember the warning signs and ask the Lord for wisdom in addressing this sensitive issue.

Any thoughts?

I sort of have an addictive personality.

Okay, fine, I do have an addictive personality.  Whether it’s genetics, whether it’s just my weird self, it doesn’t matter.  It’s something I have to be careful of, but it’s also something that makes life kind of funny.  I get stuck on things.  I read the Twilight series way more times than I will ever admit.  I’ve read every Jane Austen book time and time again.  I get stuck on TV shows, and get bizarrely into them.  Also food.  This is truly another sign of Philip’s love and devotion to me, because he puts up with this.  I went through a period where I had to have Safeway’s old-fashioned glazed doughnuts in the house at all times.  Other times it’s been Oreos, a certain kind of candy, Chai Tea (still stuck on that, I think it’s a life-long one), and now my new thing is Toaster Strudels.  Seriously, I can eat a whole box in two days, which my dear friend Laurie, if she were reading this, would have a mild heart attack, as she is trying to whip me into shape and breakfast pastries are clearly on her DO NOT EAT OR KEEP IN THE HOUSE list.

This is only a short list of some of my weird things I get stuck on.  I know other people who have shared their addictions with me, and frankly I’ve been jealous!  I want to be addicted to exercising!  I mean, come on, why do I get all of the weird, in no way good for you ones?  But the truth is, anything that we get wrapped up in, to an unhealthy degree, is dangerous. Now, I don’t think my Toaster Strudels will become an idol to me, something that I put above God, but there are plenty of other things that can, and I can so easily slip right into them if I’m not on my guard.  This is another great reason to have people around you who will hold you accountable and who will allow you to be your true self.

(As a quick aside, which there usually are in my blogs because I live with Callie Grace, I heard her crying and making weird noises in her bed.  I walked in to find her stark naked, and she said loudly, “Good morning!”.  Um, she went to bed 30 minutes ago.)

Back to addictions.  I’ve learned that all of the schooling in the world cannot keep you from them, no philosophy or mantra will help you steer clear.  The only solution is a daily, minute by minute walk with God, and genuine relationships with people who love you.  So yes, I expect Laurie will come clean out my breakfast pastries if she becomes aware of them.  Stephanie will force me up another mountain (“gently encouraging me to run part of the way”, she says.  I’m telling you, it’s creepy the power she has over people. 🙂 ) And Philip will encourage me to read other books, and to stop watching the Christy series that I have on DVD for the 20th time.  And this is because they love me.

A verse that I hold on to, and pray for is “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4.  I want Him to put what He wants me to desire in my heart.  And I suspect it won’t be breakfast pastries.

I have a friend, let’s call her Stephanie (as that is actually her name).  She’s one of those people who, when they ask if you want to do something, you say “ok!”, regardless of what it is.  I have no idea how she has this power, it’s superhuman I think.

(As a quick aside, Callie Grace just came running up to me yelling, “Mommy, I have a fly” and handed it to me.  It was a spider.  I screamed like the girl I am.)

So, yesterday, over our fellowship meal at church, I casually mention to Stephanie that I will have a few hours in the afternoon baby free, and asked if she wanted to do something with me.  I was thinking along the lines of Starbucks, Barnes and Noble, definitely something involving caffeine and sitting.  So Stephanie says, “Hey, let’s climb to the top of Evergreen Mountain!”.  And I say with enthusiasm, “Ok!”

For those who know me, we’ll pause for the laughter.

She then said, “It’s only 2 and a half miles to the top and the view is so beautiful!”.  And I say, “Sure, two and half miles seems doable. And she says, “Well, we have to get back down, so altogether it’s five miles.”

Stephanie is nothing if not honest.

I told her I was totally for it, as long as she was ready to occasionally give me a piggy back ride.  She laughed.  I didn’t.

So that is my plan for this afternoon.  The thing is, I know I will have a great time, as Stephanie is also one of those people that everything seems to be funny when you’re with them, although I’m not sure how laughter will help my endurance, since I’m sure it uses a lot of oxygen.

I’ll update you on my hike.  I feel like Lewis and Clark.  (Ok fine, they hiked hundreds of miles, but you’ve got to start somewhere!).

Last night we had an awesome party for Callie Grace, as she turned two yesterday. (!!!)  Really, the party was more for the adults, and I love hosting parties, and I’m always trying to come up with a reason to get a bunch of people to come over (is that a southern thing?).  We had a houseful, and we had a blast.  Callie was a bit overwhelmed by all the people.  She’s more of a wade into the water slowly kind of girl, not the jump into the deep end kind.  Slowly she got accustomed to it, except when she sat in her highchair with 50 people singing “Happy Birthday” to her.  The look she had on her face was priceless, and I will have pictures up soon.

I’m also happy to report that while Callie Grace made a haul with some great gifts, there were also some gifts for Philip and myself as well, unintended as they may have been.  Callie got a Little People Nativity set that I immediately claimed as my own, and I have very reluctantly let her touch the pieces.  On facebook a few people commented that this particular nativity scene was annoying because when you push the angel on the top of the stable, the star lights up and a song plays.  Obviously, this would never irritate me because, let’s face it, I go a little absurd about Christmas anyways.  Philip on the other hand scored with this cool Wiggles book that comes with a microphone.  You can pick the song you want to sing along to, hit the number, and go to town.

We were blessed by all the friends who really are now family that came, and nobody even commented on the ridiculous amount of Halloween decorations I have put up, which was lovely of them.

Now I have to go put baby Jesus back where he belongs, as he is currently sitting on the floor of the kitchen next to a half-eaten cupcake.  Should I be worried? 🙂