Nicole K. Twedt

Being Brave When Life Is Hard

Weekend Roundup, January 6, 2018: Fourteenth (But Really Thirteenth) Anniversary Edition

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Photo by Brianna Santellan on Upsplash

Our thirteenth wedding anniversary is on Sunday.  Thirteen years is something to get excited about, especially since one of us is an INFJ and the other is an ISTP.  All the same, I admit to feeling blah about this one. For some reason I thought our fourteenth anniversary was coming up and fourteen is nearly fifteen. Thirteen is sort of a letdown compared to fifteen. Who am I kidding? Every year is worthy to celebrate, even and especially year thirteen since it was a killer of a year. So celebrate we will, Star Wars style.  You know you’re with the right person when they’re willing to share their anniversary with Luke Skywalker. The Last Jedi was a letdown for some, I’m aware of it. But I happened to love the latest in the Star Wars franchise. I cried through the entire movie when Steven and I saw it on New Year’s Eve, yes I did. Even my snack-sized bag of Sour Path Kids was a distraction. And nothing stands in the way between me and my Sour Patch Kids.

Wedding Photo by Heather Colwill

Anyway, I’m going to try to keep this brief.  Emphasis on try. Brief isn’t what I do well, but every week I try.  If it’s your first  “Weekend Roundup,” all you need to know is that a Weekend Roundup is what happens when I share the work of my friends at Hope*Writers, an online writing group I belong to. Much to my surprise, all five posts kinda-sorta have to do with the New Year or at least winter. I love it when randomness forms a pattern.

First off is an organizing-gone-wrong story by Karen Gauvreau.  It’s the perfect read for a snow day. Here it is for your enjoyment. Since organizing-gone-wrong happens to be the story of my life, and if I actually knew Karen outside of Hope*Writers and Facebookland, I’d want to meet her once a week at Starbucks. We’d go there to laugh about our parenting fails over lattes or whatever it is that Karen drinks.

Moving on.

Are you the kind of person who chooses a word for the year? I am. It’s been my practice since college, before choosing a word was a thing. It’s worth mentioning that I never really choose a word. The word always finds me, and I don’t want it initially, especially 2017’s word. You can read about it here. Anyway, I wanted to write about my word for 2018 but haven’t had the chance. I was set to spend Tuesday writing in my comfy leggings and the raspberry sweatshirt with the thumb holes, the one like Amy’s from Old Navy.  It was going to be the epitome of cozy writing time. And it was until I logged onto Facebook at 10:15 a.m. Much to my horror, the vast amount of back-to-school posts clued me in to the fact that Tuesday, not Wednesday, was the first day back for our district. Parent Fail. (I should share this story with Karen at Starbucks, but I’m not a stalker.) By some miracle, we made it to school by 10:50, which is impressive since Emily and Lauren were still in their jammies and I had three lunches to pack.  Good thing I received a few CC beanies for Christmas — showering wasn’t an option.  In the chaos of it all, I forgot to write about my word and ended up at Target once the Twedtlings were safely deposited at the elementary school. So you see, I’ve got nothing to show for my word for 2018. However, Dorina Lazo Gilmore wrote a splendid essay on her word in Embracing a Sense of Wonder for the New Year.  Check it out.

The following essays deal with having the right approach to the New Year. Jenny Howell writes about having a fresh heart perspective in January. Here you go. Niki Hardy took another approach in New Year No Thanks. You can’t hear me, but I’m shouting Amen and Hallelujah in response to both pieces.

I know it’s a stretch, but the final essay is also winter-related, well sort of. Who doesn’t need a little help in the self-care/soul-care department going into the new year? Emily Sue Allen kicks off a brand new series over at Kindred Mom about self-care. According to Emily, the series “explores various facets of how mothers might invest in the health of their whole family, beginning with themselves.” Warning: this isn’t a post or series about escapism in the form of bubble bath.  You can read the first essay of the series here.

That’s all I’m going to link to today.  I need to jump in the shower at some point.  It’s true that my new CC Beanies and dry shampoo cover a multitude of sins, but at a certain point, showers are no longer optional.  Have a wonderful winter weekend everyone!

N.

Honeymoon at Sun Mountain Lodge

Family Christmas Letter, 2017

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Photo by rawpixel.com on Unsplash

Dear Friends and Family:

It’s December 18.  Christmas is exactly one week away.  Steven is at basketball camp at the high school. Emily is home sick watching The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, courtesy of Amazon Prime.  Lauren is snuggled on the caramel colored oversized chair in the living room with my ancient iPad.  Curled up on the blue-confetti knit blanket next to my laptop is Chloe. Even the dog is taking advantage of our first day of Winter Break. It should be the perfect time to add the finishing touches to my annual Christmas letter.  But I’m feeling meh about writing it this year.  I’m beginning to wonder if the Christmas letter ship has sailed. Perhaps it’s time to put the tradition to bed. Except I have a zillion Christmas photo cards from Costco waiting on my desk. Either way, I have some addressing and stamping to do.

Some already know of my online writing spot. Welcome newbies. This little blog was private and unpublished for much of its existence.  But something unexpected happened and nicolektwedt.com went live by mistake. Freedom came once my work was out there in the great wide somewhere of the internet. Pain loses its power when pushed to the surface. Yet there’s a lot I don’t know about creating and maintaining a blog. I still don’t have a system to deliver blog posts straight to your inbox. I don’t even have a spot for my tagline. Ah well, my online writing gig will come together in time.

As one can imagine, with three kids, a dog and a husband, it’s difficult to find time to string words together. Every now and then I choose to ignore Mt. St. Laundry on the couch and the dishes in the sink long enough to write about faith and heartbreak and how through God, and writing, I’m learning to acknowledge the pain and hard places and seek out joy in the midst of it all. With everything I write, he (and by he I mean God) reminds me that he is holding onto our family, teaching us that he is here. And because he is here, we really can practice being brave when life is hard. We all can. Probably the gutsiest subject I’ve tackled this year is the autism evaluation process with a surprise ending for one of the Twedtlings.  You can read about it here and here.  I also wrote at length about grief, anxiety and motherhood. A few book reviews were thrown in for good measure.

In the spirit of keeping it real, there’s much to report, and much I shouldn’t, about fifth-grader Emily, third-grader Steven and first-grader Lauren. Hands down, the hardest part of the year was loosing Grandpa Beck to cancer. Fortunately, the challenges and heartbreak of 2017 were balanced with breakthroughs and good times. There was plenty to get excited about, plenty worth shouting from the rooftop. We love having a tween in the house (Emily). Our gig as parents keeps getting better and better. The craziest thing happened last spring when a mama black bear lumbered through our quarter acre lot. Lauren and Chloe were in the backyard.  Our eleven pound Havanese chased the bear away from her girl. Not bad for a little dog with a behavioral modification plan for anxiety. As for Lauren, she waited until Chloe was ushered into the sanctuary of our tiny rambler before calling for help.  Uff da!

In a nutshell, this season of life has been all about learning to seek out and acknowledge everyday victories. In other words, Greg and I are fighting to acknowledge the baby steps, the miracles-in-progress, glories along the way that are easily overlooked when buried beneath the frustrations and busyness of daily life. It’s forcing us (yes, forcing us) to see life and new beginnings in barren trees and delicate seedlings, rather than fixing our eyes on our current situation or on what we hope will be the end result.  This practice, I’m starting to think, requires a heck of a lot of faith, hope and wonder.  I’m not exactly there yet, but I’m headed in that direction.

Through the challenges, the mess and the mundane, the volleyball practices and basketball games, a certain verse stirs my heart. “…Come all who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls (Matthew 11:28, 29 NLT).”

“Come all who are weary…” Yep, that’s me. You too? In the deepest parts of my soul I feel God saying, “Hold on. Rest in me. Don’t let go. Trust me. You’re almost there,” and “You are not alone.”

I wasn’t going to write a letter in the first place, but Dr. Preston, Steven’s beloved pediatric optometrist, asked if I was going to write about a certain something.  You see, Steven turns nine years-old on January 3. When Steven was an infant, we were told by Dr. Preston that he could stop wearing an eye-patch at age nine. Nine seemed like an eternity away, but here we are. An eternity came and went with plenty of blood, sweat and tears to keep things interesting. I can hardly believe we’re about to bid farewell to such a tremendous and terrible part of our son’s childhood.  I can hardly write about this part of Steven’s story without tears showing up.  Tears aside, I also kinda-sorta feel like slipping on my dancing shoes.

What I really need to do is slip into our small kitchen to prepare lunch for the girls.  Steven will be home in a little over an hour.  Friends and family, my prayer for you this season, and into 2018, is for you to experience the hope and wonder that does not disappoint. Take heart, friends, all this is temporary. He has overcome. Beauty and hope abound. Here’s to keeping our eyes wide open to catch a glimpse of his love and the wonder of it all. Merry Christmas.

Love,

Nicole

with Greg, Emily, Steven and Lauren

Weekend Roundup, December 8, 2017: I Should Be Writing Our Christmas Letter Edition

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Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Oh look! Wesley Tingey was nice enough to put a letter T above the fireplace before snapping a picture of it. There’s even a stocking, actually two stockings, with letter E!  We all know T is for Twedt and E is for my daughter Emily. This is practically my mantle!

Here’s our actual mantle minimally decorated for Christmas, which is the way I like it.  If I get around to it, I’ll hang the stockings.  Darn ugly television.  The Christmas print is available as a downloadable here from Jones Design Company. You’ll need to sign up for it though.

By the way, an alternate title for this blog post could easily be “Weekend Roundup: Procrastination Edition.”  Or this: “I’d Rather Clean The Bathroom Than Write Edition.” But I’m partial to “I Should Be Writing My Christmas Letter Edition.” Yep, it’s December 8 and I’m feeling meh about writing our family Christmas letter, my usual favorite holiday tradition.  But I haven’t put together a Weekend Roundup since a few weeks before Thanksgiving so I’m doing this instead.  It’s as good of time as any and it will keep me from writing from my heart, which sounds terrible but is the simple truth.  I’m resisting the urge to bare my soul through our family Christmas letter because this year, like last year, has been a hard one and I’m not ready to go there just yet.  2017 was also a splendid year filled with glories and breakthroughs deserving proper attention. The Christmas letter will happen when I’m feelin’ the Christmas letter love.  

Speaking of Christmas, I thought it would be fun to share our top three worst Santa pictures because PROCRASTINATION.

This is Emmie’s first date with Creepy Mall Santa.  She wasn’t impressed.  She burst into tears the second the photo was snapped.  I hardly blame her.

The next photo is from the Historic Santa Train.  We thought Steven would love the Santa Train from North Bend to Snoqualmie.  The train ride was a hit.  Santa was not.  Steven is throwing a tantrum as Emily patiently waits for him to get over it.  He never did.

Other than the fact that our dog looks like a weasel, or an unnamed wildlife creature, this one isn’t bad.  Unless I tell you the story behind the Santa photo which involves poop and puke.  Let’s save the story for a rainy day. I have to make a pumpkin streusel pie to take to a Christmas party and I do not want to associate poop or puke with pumpkin pie, given its color.

Back to the Weekend Roundup, which was the whole point of this post. If you’re new around here, the Weekend Roundup is a collection of essays and blog posts from around the web.  To be precise (because I always like to be precise) the essays are by my friends at Hope*Writers, an online writing community I belong to.

The first essay up today is by Vanessa Hunt (not the Vanessa Hunt I know in real life). Initially, the essay grabbed me because of the photo of the mason jar advent candles.  It’s kinda-sorta like the one I made this year in my quest to simplify and purge the decorations I don’t really love anymore or what not longer works for us.  I’m glad I decided to actually read Vanessa’s essay. It’s absolutely hysterical.  I don’t want to give too much away. I’m going to stop right now so you can check out Vanessa’s website. Here you go.

Welcome back. Wasn’t her Advent story hilarious? And tender too.

This next one is also funny.  Mary Carver writes about hosting a Cheesy Christmas Movie Watching Party.  Here’s the link. The introvert in me cringes at the thought of another Holiday party, but with a little planning I think this would be a hilarious way to kick off the season next year. On the other hand, who needs an official party? The Cheesy Christmas Movie Watching Party has been my reality every night for the last few weeks, party of two.  A certain someone in my family has a fondness for Hallmark Christmas movies, the ones that find their way to Netflix and Amazon.  Since I’m not one to throw my husband under the bus, that’s all I’m going to say about that.

The last link is a wee bit different. Instead of an essay or blog post, I’m linking to my friend Dorina’s website.  Once there, you will have the opportunity to sign up for a special 4-part Behold Advent experience. Who doesn’t like free stuff? On a serious note, I’ve taken great comfort in Dorina’s writing about grief and hope this year.  I can’t wait to see what she has in store for us for Advent. Here’s the linky-link for you at www.DorinaGilmore.com.

It’s time for me to go. In a few minutes I’ll need to get ready to pick the Twedlings up from school.  I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend.

N.

P.S. I shared this older post on Facebook earlier this week.  This mini-essay is all about the intersection of trendy Hygge and motherhood. I originally shared it last winter as a Mentor Moment for my MOPS group.  I’m not sure if my blog was “live” at that point.

P.P.S. This word of hope found its way into my inbox this morning as part of my friend Faith’s newsletter. Fatih originally wrote this piece last year for those who are grieving or going through a particularly challenging season. Go on and give it a read.  You’ll be so glad you did.  I promise.