Paper, Plastic or Judgment?

Today was grocery day, which means that I needed to get ready for the inevitable... You see, I'm one of THOSE people. You know, people who actually buy groceries so that we can eat. So that means that I buy groceries. LOTS of groceries. Which means I then have to deal with the stares as people look at me with my loaded down cart and my children and my heaping bags of groceries and listen to the "Whoa!"s which always make me feel totally self conscious about all the groceries that I am buying. 

Maybe I was already in tune with it this morning because of my friend Danielle's post this morning, but I've been thinking a lot about judging others today. Dealing with the comments today at the store - and my automatic snarky responses that I didn't say but REALLY wanted to - brought it to the forefront of my thoughts again (and hence to my blog). 

Here's the thing about judging... I think that we are probably all aware of the big judgments. I know when I'm doing it, and worse yet, I know I'm not supposed to do it. The Bible tells me clearly that I'm not to do it. It's even in the red words, so we can't even complain that we aren't sure about how to "interpret" it. Jesus says, 

"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the same measure you use it, it will be measure to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." 

(Matt. 7:1 - 5; NIV)

Eugene Peterson's The Message breaks it down even further to say, 

"Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults -- unless of course you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It's easy to see a smudge on your neighbor's face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, 'Let me wash your face for you,' when your own face is distorted by contempt? It's this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor." 

(Matt. 7:1-5; MSG)

There's a real "Whoa!" for ya. That's a crazy (and a little scary) Jesus-style smackdown! (Is that blasphemous? I just have this mental image of Jesus on the Mount lettin' 'em know how it is...) One of the things that I love about these passages is that there isn't a lot of wiggle room here. Don't do it. Period. The end. 

 But what about the "little" judgments? I know I'm not going to go up to someone and tell someone I'm better than them, but what about those little comments that we don't think about, but are hurtful and judgmental anyway? Because whomever said "words won't hurt you" was a liar. Sometimes they do. 

Like... "Wow! Would you like some salad with your salad? Why don't you eat a candy bar every once in a while?" or "Hmmm... 5 kids huh? You don't know what causes that yet?" or "Wow! You're having another one already? Was it an accident?" or "Only one? Can't you have anymore?" or "Oh... you stay home hmm..." or "Oh, you work? And have kids? Hmmm..." or in my case today at the grocery store... 

Random lady at the checkout counter: "Whoa!" 

Me (unloading my massively full cart while trying to keep my two children from climbing/falling out to "help" me): "Yes. I know." (kind, but tired smile)

Random rude lady: "I mean... WHOA! That's a LOT of groceries!" 

Me: "Yep." (more forced smile and juggling of children)

Complete stranger lady who I've never met: "Wow. I can't believe how many groceries you have!" 

Me: "Well... cooking at home for your little ones everyday means you need groceries in the house." 

Lady who apparently has never owned more than a day's worth of groceries in her life: "Have you ever gone to one of those discount stores? Because the way you buy groceries, you should think about it." 

Me: "Yep." 

Now. I would also like to put forth a disclaimer here. I really didn't have that many groceries. Yes. There was a good bit, but it wasn't like I needed a moving truck to bring them home. I fit them fine in the trunk of my Corolla, so it's not like I was loading up a UHaul to bring home the grocery store. And if that was the only comment that I heard... but it wasn't. Or the only look. But it wasn't. 

And so here I am. Trying to justify my cart full of healthy food. Food that I need to put healthy meals on the table for my kids. Because that's my choice. I mean, let's be real. It takes me about 25 minutes just to get to the grocery store. Who wants to spend 50 minutes of just driving to get to the store and back every day with two kids in tow? That isn't fun for anyone. And when I sit down and make a weekly menu and then shop for it, I've already done the hard part of cooking - the deciding what are we going to have for dinner tonight - and it makes it much easier to control our budget and know that we are going to have healthy foods on our table. Plus, I can't say how incredibly grateful that I am that I have the ability to go to the store and get a cart full of healthy foods for my kids. We aren't rolling in the dough by any means, but if my kids want some strawberries, they can go in the cart. There was a time in my life when that wasn't possible, and with the economy being the way that it is now there is a lot of people where that isn't possible. 

But why do I need to justify? What is it about the way that others look at us, or the comments that they say that makes us feel less than? And how many times do my own thoughtless comments do the same thing? Even my snarky responses are equally judgmental (please see above titles for the lady at the grocery store). I know that part of it is the nature of our sinful lives, but it wasn't something that I had totally put together until today. So I guess that's it. Just another one of those hidden lessons. Who knew that you could learn so much about life at the grocery store? 

Road Warriors, Good times, and Bittersweet Victories

It's been a while since my last post, and much has happened, so without further ado... (WARNING: THIS IS A LONG POST. YOU MAY WANT TO TAKE THIS TIME TO TAKE A RESTROOM BREAK OR GET A SNACK OR SOMETHING BEFORE YOU BEGIN. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED) 


First of all, we had a WONDERFUL time visiting the Aultman family in Savannah for Spring Break. Like the absolutely crazy person I am I decided that it was completely sensible for me to take a 5 year old and a 2 year old on a 5 hour road trip all by myself... Blessedly, my children were FANTASTIC! I couldn't have ask for more from them for the entire trip and I was just reminded again of my many many blessings. It was absolutely fantastic to get to spend some time with Suzanne who has been my "bestie" for almost (gasp) 18 years! God has blessed me with one of those amazing and rare friendships with Suzanne where despite the distance and time I know that I can pick up the phone or visit and the conversation will pick up just where it left off the last time one of our kids were going crazy or we had to go to another meeting or bathe some child... 

Ye olde high school days... 

 Berry College Graduation Day - May 2002

Then it was it was back to Gainesville for "testing season" and not much time for anything else... Until the month of May, which seems to be action packed for my family. First up was Avarie's birthday. We had a great swimming party with her church friends and a good time was reported to be had by all. I haven't dealt with the fact that she has turned six years old yet - which would go along with me accepting that she is growing up. As I am on the edge of a nervous breakdown facing her Kindergarten graduation later this week... I'll leave that for another day and another blog... 


Then it was time for Mother's Day weekend and Graduation weekend for me. Mother's Day is always a very bittersweet holiday for me. Without a doubt the two greatest blessings in my life are my children. I'm not sure that I really lived before they came into my life. I love being a mother and my children with every fiber of my being, and I'm blessed that my family shows their love and appreciation of me every day and not just on a Hallmark holiday. 

Photo by Suzanne Aultman Photography
(Yes... she IS that talented...)

At the same time, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss my own mother. There's no words to describe what it's like to want to pick up the phone and tell your mother about all the good things and the bad things and the in-between things that happen during the day and to know that just isn't possible. Your mother is the one that you celebrate victories with and who picks you up when you stumble and fall and that comes to your defense when the world picks on you, and I miss that. Terribly and finally and awfully every day. Even after 16 years. 

My beautiful and kind spirited Mama

I have been blessed by a plethora of women who have come into my life to help fill that void, and I couldn't be thankful enough for them. It is one of the blessings of being a Southern woman to know that when one of our own is in need, you don't have to worry about who will step in to help. I am so incredibly grateful and I trust God even more in knowing the women that He has placed in my path in just the right time.



This Mother's Day weekend was spent in Lynchburg, VA celebrating with my family one of the greatest accomplishments of my life - graduating with a doctorate degree in education. It's been a while since I've finished my work, so I seriously considered not going, but thankfully my husband wasn't having any of that. So we loaded up on a Friday afternoon and drove to Virginia. Saturday morning I was up earlier than any person should be and on my way the last hour to Lynchburg with my dear, dear friend Kelly Whitaker and by 8 am we were reunited with the best Yankee I know, Craig, and ready to commence. 

Time for commencement! 

Mitt Romney was our commencement speaker, and although I have to say that he wouldn't be my first choice for Presidential nominee, I thought he delivered a nice commencement speech. Truett Cathey also was recognized and I couldn't help but think about how full circle my life seemed as I was graduating in Liberty with Truett and the link that he has with my undergrad school Berry. I, of course, immediately began texting Suzanne in the middle of my commencement - not than anyone noticed since there were about 6,000 or so graduates in the audience. 

The greatest moment for me was when I was able to stand up on a chair and look back behind me and see my family there with me. I was so incredibly glad to be able to share this day with them, and I pray that the memory will stick with Avarie and remind her that she can achieve anything at any time. It felt really good to stand there in my graduation robes, with my hood hanging down my back, my velvet stripes on my sleeve, and my gold tassel holding my two year old and knowing that I did this. I decided to do it, and I did. Not to say that my husband was integral because he was SO vital to my  finishing. I may live my whole life and never meet anyone so selfless as him, but on just this day the victory was mine. I was 31 years old and had a 5 year old and a 1 year old when I got my doctorate. Not many people can say that, but I can. I don't revel in that very much - in fact, truth be told, I don't even really think about it all that much - but this weekend I did just that. And it was wonderful.  

With these two clowns, this is honestly the best option for a picture of all of us

 After the main ceremony in the morning we had a few hours of break and then went over to the basketball arena for the hooding ceremony. This is when you "officially" become a doctor in terms of graduation ceremonies. The staff calls you up on the stage and one of the faculty members places the hood (that you've already been wearing all day anyway) over your head while your dissertation title is read to the crowd although no one but your family cares and most of them couldn't tell you what the name of my dissertation was anyway without looking... A great time was had by all (with Beau making friends with the people around him and the majority of my family taking a snooze in the stands while waiting for my turn - yes... I saw you people sleeping up there...) 

Pre-hooding, post-commencement. And yes. I did wear my TOMS for the whole day, and I was glad of it! 

Me and the hubs. I love this man! 

A small portion of the assembled education graduates.

The "hooding." That's me sitting down in the chair and Dr. Spaulding preparing the hood. 

Post hooding (and looking for an exit) 

Anyway... that's my story - or at least a small portion of it - but the rest of the story will keep for another day. Now it's on to celebrate the end of Avarie's kindergarten year (breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth... we can do this... we can do this...) and then to celebrate 11 years of marriage with my hubby! 

God bless and good night. 

Of tieing shoes and other victories

It was a momentous morning in the Goodwin household this morning. You see after months of work and trying and frustration my sweet Avarie has successfully ...

TIED HER OWN SHOE!!!!

The victorious knot!

It was a proud moment for Matt and I as the light of victory came into her eyes. I loved to see her beaming with pride as I carefully inspected her knot to see if this was the time that she "really had done it all on her own." And reflecting on this in the car on the way to work this morning all I could think of is that this moment was one of those great joys of parenting - as amazing and humbling to watch as a little ones first steps.

There are a lot of "non-joys" of parenting  - being peed on, being vomited on, worrying through the night as you hear your little ones coughing in the room next door - but they can't compare to these joys. It's mindblowing to me how many of the little victories add up to make my day feel like its worth it. A smile in the morning, the sight of Avarie celebrating as her team scores a soccer goal, a real hug, the sight of my son running to me as soon as they call "Beau... your mom's here...", even something as simple as watching my daughter learn to tie her shoe.

Of course... it's equally terrifying. Each wobbly step, each tied shoe, each new word she can read on her own... they are all another step away from my safe arms and into the world as a new, independent person. I heard someone say on television just yesterday morning that our job as parents is to teach our kids how to not need us any more, and I thought that summed it up pretty well.

Matt and I are so incredibly blessed with the children that God has chosen to loan us for a time here on Earth. Sometimes it's hard for me to remember that they don't really belong to me - they belong to Him - and He celebrates each victory with us. I'm blessed to have a husband who feels an equal responsibility that the children that we have been blessed with must grow up knowing that we love them and that we support them no matter what, but also that in the end they belong to the Father and must live as we do according to His word and His will. We aren't promised that this life will be easy - and in my experience the things that are really worth it never are. I love the way the Message puts it...

^31-33Jesus answered them, "Do you finally believe? In fact, you're about to make a run for it—saving your own skins and abandoning me. But I'm not abandoned. The Father is with me. I've told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I've conquered the world." John 16:33

I find myself wondering how many of the little victories I celebrate with God each day. How many time that I stop to think about the little victories that He's accorded me, and if He's doing the happy dance in Heaven with me. I've spent a lot of my life pursuing big dreams. I achieved obtaining my doctorate at 31 while working full time as a middle school teacher and while having two small children. In fact, if you didn't know I took my comp exams on a Friday and had Beau on the next Monday (because I rescheduled the c-section around my comp exams - true story... I've never seen such crazy looks from nurses before...they could tell I'd lost touch with reality). I know how to pursue big dreams. But in the end I've found that as I've become a parent, it's the little dreams that life is made up of. Beau is mastering potty training and Avarie learns to read better every day. I can't wait to see the great and wonderful small victories that await me tomorrow....

Truth is - getting fit ain't pretty!

So... I am in the process of getting fitter and trying to get rid of some of the "excess" that I packed on during the last few years. Truth is someone asking you when you are due and the answer being two years ago is NOT fun (uhm..hmm... not that that has ever happened to me...). I wanted to lose some weight, but my main goal is that I've got to be in better health. I want to be around for my kids - and grandkids - and maybe I'll be blessed enough to be around for my great-grandkids to bounce around on my knee. 


So I'm getting fit - and the truth is - it ain't pretty. I'm a sweaty yucky grunty stinky mess in the gym... for real! So why is it that I open the magazines and I see these great pictures of perfectly coiffed, ridiculously happy people who are supposedly mid-workout?!? 

You won't find me smiling like this while I'm working out... 

(except for when my trainer is cracking me up and making me laugh...but I STILL don't look this happy...)

I don't even have this "pretty" intense look...
(or those abs)

This is more me 

(although it isn't me but I think you get the point)

   So... there I am - grunting and sweating and thinking evil thoughts about my harmlessly nice, perpetually positive, and constantly encouraging trainer. And it ain't pretty. And no matter how hard I work I have to remind myself that the stars on the front of the magazines look that way because they have teams of stylists, nannies, trainers, chefs, and tons of time to spend in the gym (plus a whole lot of airbrushing). And the people from the magazines are posing... NOT working out. 

Truth is... I WANT to be lazy. I WANT to eat a hamburger and french fries. Oh my goodness... If you had an Oreo Blizzard in your hand I might knock you down and take it... BUT the real truth is that I want my future more. 

So for now I'll keep going to the gym and sweating like a pig and grunting like one of those crazy people and shooting poor Rob daggers as I trail behind his 6'8" self all over the gym (and I do KNOW what a great luxury having a trainer is...we'll save that for another post), because those are the choices that last far beyond that delicious creamy bite of Oreo Blizzard (so delicious...*tear*).  

Yeah... something like that...

So if you are waiting to go to the gym because you're afraid of how you'll look, don't be. Fortunately most of the other people there look like me too and nothing like the magazines. The folks at my gym have made me more confident in my sweaty grunty self. And don't be afraid to go for the strength training section just because you are a girl. There have been so many benefits just from those workouts that I've seen already and I'm no where near the end of my journey (hello toned butt... I've missed you...). In girl terms - I put on a pair of jeans today... wait for it... straight OUT OF THE DRYER! That's right... without all that crazy "stretching" that you have do to get them on and avoid that "donelap" - where your belly done lap over your pants - wait... that's just me?!? Awkward! Anywhoo... get out there and get going... or don't... but don't expect it to be pretty....  

And if you see me in public, I don't mind... you can pretend like you don't know me!  :)  

Truth is... 2 year olds DON'T get Daylight Savings Time.

Daylight Savings Time Switch... that biannual time of the year that parents of young children loathe. I totally get the great part about having more daylight and blah bitty blah, and two months from now when my children are enjoying the light outside until 8 p.m. to play it's going to be wonderful, but for right now... I pretty much hate it with a passion. 

You see, my two year old does NOT get daylight savings. Take the combination of dietary issues, normal terrible twoness, and daylight savings time transition and you have a meltdown of Chernobyl proportions at our house... At dinner of course. You know the deal... I don't know what I don't want but I'm sure that I wanted what you offered me before except now I don't want it. If you haven't experienced this yet then simply visit the home of a toddler around the DST switch...or visit any grocery store or public establishment and look for the lady that looks a little crazy around the eyes and like she probably hasn't brushed her hair in a couple of days. In fact, find one of these frazzled ladies any time in the next month and whisper the words "daylight savings time" near her and watch the involuntary twitches begin. The time of year induces it's own special kind of trauma. Even my five year old looked like a zombie on the soccer field  at practice today - literally - I think she was sleeping standing up! 

The real true face of Daylight Savings Time...

You know the real kicker to me? Being the nerd that I am I had to look it up to see what kind of person would come up with such a terrible idea (as it clearly was NOT the parent of a toddler). Most people - myself included - may have thought that it was Benjamin Franklin, but the great resource of wikipedia has told me that it was in fact a man named George Vernon Hudson in 1895. Mr. Hudson was an entomologist in his spare time and wanted more time after work to look for bugs - so he proposed the modern idea of DST and here we are... All of THIS so you can look for some more BUGS?!? I love science and all but really?!? The entire Western (toddler and young child) hemisphere is currently undergoing serious transition issues right now 'cause a guy wanted more time to search for bugs. Mr. Hudson... I'm not a fan. 

The storm has passed for now and it seems like all will be asleep VERY soon... 'til next time dear readers (unless you see me in public... just look for the frazzled twitchy lady... that's me). 

The beginning?

Wellllllll.... my friend Danielle who is an amazing blogger (read her super awesome blog here) convinced me to try it too (along with a couple of others who have been very encouraging) - so here we are... Who knows where this journey will take me... Who knows who will actually read what I have to say... Who knows who will be able to tolerate my irrational love of ellipses... 


At any rate I'm looking for a place to write down the real stuff of life. These are the lessons that I have learned about myself and others as I've walked the road of motherhood for the last six years. These are the lessons that I call "mom truths." Truths like it is possible to love someone so much that it literally hurts to draw breath (a lesson I learned when Avarie was a newborn). Truths like a husband NEVER looked as handsome as when he is changing a dirty diaper, loading a dishwasher, or reading stories with your babies. Truths like when you have two children and a husband the expectation that you will ever again be able to use the restroom alone slowly fades and dies. Truths like no matter how calm the house seems when you get in the shower, the minute you put shampoo in your hair all hell seems to break loose.  

Me and the fam

So here it is... my REAL TRUE LIFE... hugs, kisses, vomit and all!