Quick Before I Get Sidetrack'd

Expectation: a belief that someone will or should achieve something

We all have them: of ourselves, of others, of life. There are certain things that we expect ourselves to achieve; ways that we expect our spouse and children to be; certain events that we expect to transpire in our lives; certain outcomes that we expect God to provide.

I have long known that I expect too much. It’s not that I expect great things; it’s just things like: expecting someone to understand what I’m talking about even if I don’t communicate well; expecting someone to know what I’m thinking without my telling them; expecting high levels of achievement from myself.

I tend to be hard on myself – more so in some areas than others – and set the standard high enough that it is pretty much unattainable. This is very true in what I believe others are expecting of me. For instance, I have been in a place recently where I believed Matt expected the house to be spotless when he came home. I was convinced that toys in the floor, unwashed dishes in the sink, or a pile of unfolded laundry on the couch was a disappointment to him. I mean, I’m home all day now, why shouldn’t I be able to accomplish everything? He never said this was true; he never did anything to make me believe that this was true. It was all in my head. I make myself believe that perfection is expected and if I can’t achieve perfection then I have totally failed.

I also fear failure. You know the old saying, “if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again”? It is not my motto. I have long been the type of person that believed I should be good at something the first time I try it. If I’m not good at it, what is the point in trying again? Trying again is just setting myself up for embarrassment and failure. Often, if I convince myself that I can’t do something to my level of expectation then I might as well not do it at all.

Over the last few weeks, God has been teaching me a bit about expectations, especially the things I expect of myself. I have come to realize that this is something that is preventing me from becoming the woman God desires me to be. My expectations are holding me back from living the abundance of life that is mine in Christ. This is an area where I have been held captive; a stronghold that Satan had on my mind and heart. I am in the process of turning it over to God; letting the light of Christ shine in the dark places of my heart.

In Luke 4:18 Christ is reading from the prophecy of Isaiah and says, “He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed.” I claim this promise for myself through Christ, and you can too.

Ahh! Reminiscences on childhood. I received this in an e-mail from my friend N today, and I can so relate to each one of these. Enjoy!

You know you grew up in the 80s if you:

~ ever ended a sentence with the word SIKE.
~ can sing the rap to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and can do the Carlton.
~ know that “WOAH” comes from Joey on Blossom.
~ ever watched Fraggle Rock.
~ remember when it was actually worth getting up on Saturday to watch cartoons.
~ wore a ponytail on the side of your head.
~ got super-excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.
~ made your mom buy one of those clips that would hold your shirt in a knot on the side.
~ played the game “MASH” (mansion, apartment, shelter, house).
~ wore stone-washed Jordache jean jackets and were proud of it.
~ know the profound meaning of “Wax on, wax off.”
~ wanted to be a Goonie.
~ ever wore fluorescent clothing.
~ remember what Michael Jackson looked like before his nose fell off and cheeks shifted.
~ have ever pondered why Smurfette was the only female Smurf.
~ took lunch boxes to school and traded Garbage Pail Kids in the schoolyard.
~ remember the craze, then banning of slap bracelets.
~ still get the urge to say “NOT” after every sentence.
~ thought your friends would never leave because you exchanged friendship bracelets.
~ ever owned a pair of “Jelly” shoes.
~ saw Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure and kept saying “I know you are, but what am I?” (or wanted to dance every time you heard the word “Tequila”)
~ remember, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”
~ remember going to the skating rink before there were in-line skates.
~ have ever played with a Skip-It.
~ remember boom-boxes and walking around with one on your shoulder like you were all that.
~ remember watching both Gremlins movies.
~ thought Doogie Howser / Samantha Micelli was hot.
~ remember Alf, the little furry brown alien from Melmac.
~ remember New Kids on the Block when they were cool and don’t even flinch when someone refers to them as NKOTB
~ knew all the characters names and life stories on the original class of Saved By the Bell.
~ still sing “We are the World”.
~ tight-rolled your jeans.
~ owned a banana clip.
~ remember, “Where’s the beef?”
~ have said (or still say), “What you talkin’ ‘bout Willis?”

it won’t be long until Little is on the move. For several weeks she has been pulling up on the hearth and on Matt and I; this week she has mastered the art. She can now pull up on anything and everything – her bed, the pack ‘n play, the couch, her Leap Frog table.

It is fun to watch her learning new things and discovering the world around her. It also means that we will be spending time this weekend putting locks on cabinets and drawers.

Last night’s episode of The Office was great! The writers were in rare form when they wrote this script. I laughed all the way through the episode, from Andy coming in and saying he goes by Drew now to the “shunning” by Dwight to the bets (Kelly’s explanation of Netflix was great) to Michael on the roof. There were several good quotes, but the one I remember right now is:

“I worked in a warehouse once. Men’s Warehouse. I was a greeter.” ~~ Michael Scott

This morning began just like any other Wednesday; I nursed Little, drank two cups of coffee, read a few blog posts. I attend a Bible class at church on Wednesdays, so about 7:30 I went to take a shower. I put Little on the bed while I set up the Pack ‘n Play. The next thing I knew, Little was taking a head-dive off the bed. How did this happen? I was standing right there!

It all doesn’t sound so bad unless you know that our bed stands approximately three feet off the floor. Of course, she started wailing and I scooped down to pick her up and comfort her. In my panic I did think to make sure she was moving her appendages before I lifted her. She seemed to be fine, only shaken and scared. I called my Mom who helped calm me down. I tried to call the doctor’s office, but it wasn’t open yet.

After I talked to Mom, I called Matt (he was on his way to work when it all happened). While we were on the phone Little began vomiting. Not just heaving like I would associate with the crying, a continuous stream of the entire contents of her stomach. Now our focus shifted and we were concerned that she had a head injury of some sort. I hung up with Matt and called 911.

Within minutes, a fire engine and ambulance were parked in front of our house. Five paramedics came in to check things out. They asked several questions, looked at the bed she fell from, and checked her over. Her pupils were normal and reactive (no concussion or swelling of the brain) and she didn’t have pain when they manipulated her limbs or abdomen. They told me to call them or the doctor if she started vomiting again or if she fell asleep and we couldn’t wake her.

Fortunately, everything seems to be okay; she hasn’t had any problems or acted like she was in pain. Babies are resilient, and I thank God that Little wasn’t seriously injured. It was a bit of a traumatic morning for both of us.