I spoke at a women’s conference this weekend. I was so honored to be asked to be a workshop speaker by one of my favorite people in the world and immediately wrote out my notes feeling inspired and confident.
When I got to the conference, I heard the key note speaker and she spoke on a subject different than what I thought the conference was centered on. So I decided to adjust my session a bit. And then I realized that I had really geared my talk towards middle and high school girls (the conference started out just for them but then grew to accommodate all ages) and when I got into my breakout room, there were more post high school women than anyone else.
So I started talking and suddenly decided to change things up a bit to better reach my audience. This begins my train wreck. My organized thoughts suddenly became a mess in my head. My main points were scattered and I could see it in the eyes of the 50 or so faces looking back at me. I think pregnancy brain was also messing me up a bit. But I kept going. I tried to get it back together. But then Mean Voice started to talk louder. Mean Voice was seriously crowding my thinking saying not helpful things like, “tell me again why you thought it was a good idea to restructure this talk
while giving it?” and “pretty sure you’re not saying anything insightful or new. You can tell everyone has heard all of this before.” And the more I battled Mean Voice, the more I sped through the stories I had to tell, the more I brushed over relevant points without giving each thought the depth I wanted to share. Mean Voice made me want to get out of there…fast.
In the end, my session concluded and the 50 women in there probably thought I was just a nervous communicator. But I knew better. I know that I had something to share and that I really botched it up.
It’s such a bad feeling. Rory was there watching Ivar and afterwards he took me out for a big chocolate chip cookie and we came home and pulled the curtains, watched a movie and I took a long nap. And when I woke up, I still felt crappy.
The crazy thing is that I know how human this is, and how normal it is just to blow it once in a while. So today I’m working on forgiving myself and finding the grace to do so. I’m trying to tell myself that this is just one experience and not to let this one throw me for future speaking opportunities.
But sheesh, I hate these life experiences! And I hate Mean Voice.
In the end, I suppose all that really happened through this experience is that my pride took a hit and I was humbled again realizing that I, too, have really off days that are painfully refining. Ugh.
Vacations are always hard to come off of and this one is no exception. I love family, I love the sun, I love a good hot tub, I love taking walks with the stroller, I love family discussions and I love watching Rory with Ivar. This vacation had it all. We spent most of our time in the pool. The water was about as warm as Ivar's bath water which made it enticing for adults and 3-year-olds alike.
You could also find us zipping around on my Grandma's golf cart, or pushing various combinations of kiddos in the strollers. The weather was perfect every day...and we felt grateful to be out of Minnesota for a break from winter.
My favorite quote from the week came from Mara. I was taking her and Sonna to the pool by myself and as we were walking there I was talking through some ground rules. I told them that they could not swim away from me, that they always had to be close enough that I could help them if they needed it, since there were two of them and only one of me. Mara replied, "I know. We should be close so you can hear our bubbles if we go under the water."
Sonna rocked it in pink all week long. The girl has got style and spunk.
And I believe Svea was just happy that the ratio of adults to children was so high. I think she found this vacation to be a nice rest from well-intentioned sisters who tend to violate her personal space.
Rory got to read two books while we were there. That's a good sign of a good vacation.
And I got to snuggle a lot with my little boy. 
For a Minnesota Mama who desperately still needs to get outside from time to time, this is the perfect gift.
I was with my Grandma last week and told her I got Ivar his first pair of jeans and she gave me a look of disgust like I have never seen. She even made an audible disapproving sound! This is unheard of from my agreeable Grandma. But she has always had a thing about babies wearing adult clothes. She believes baby clothes should be soft and cuddly. And I would say I absolutely agree Grandma!...until I found these jeans. Then I made my 
