Oopsies, Whoopsies, and Other Day-sies

I have no idea how the little "oopsie-daisy" phrase got started. While I like the sound of it rolling off my tongue, I don't like its connotations. It means something probably got up-ended or someone pulled a blooper. 

Like the oopsie I did to myself the other day when I walked into the wrong bathroom at school. I have subbed at that school often enough to know exactly where the upstairs staff ladies' washroom is (and no, I don't mean that our school has a laundry room) but I was in such a hurry to get outside to help tie second-graders' skates at recess that I opted to use the downstairs student girls' restroom instead. 

In recent (I think) years, the school basement washrooms have been renovated, so I was in somewhat unfamiliar territory as I approached. I thought I looked at the woman's picture on the sign outside the door before entering, but what I gave it must have been a blurry glance. 

Because I soon discovered I was NOT in the right room. My first clue was seeing a bathroom fixture designed for a gender not my own. I made a hasty exit out of there, being very mortified as well as very grateful that I had only met something and not someone. 

Just when I thought I'd be able to manage the short hall to the ladies' room and slip gracefully and unobtrusively into the right bathroom without anyone's notice, I met a student - a male third-grader - on his way to a correct bathroom. I knew he could not have missed seeing me come out of the wrong one. 

He could've done any one of a number of things, such as never met my eyes in passing while pretending he never witnessed my blooper, smirked broadly behind a hand he'd cupped over his mouth, or outright guffawed at the substitute teacher who was ditzy enough to sail into the wrong restroom.

But he didn't. The bright-faced young chap looked right at me as he came near, broke into a friendly grin, and chirped, "That's okay, these bathrooms got switched around."

It's true that the boys' and girls' restrooms are opposite of where they used to be, but that fact really gave me no excuse to not read the signs properly. I think it's noteworthy that a third-grade boy offered  me the excuse anyway. 

I'm sure he had a funny story to tell his family that night at the supper table, but I also have a hunch he treated me kindly in the telling. Kudos to his parents for teaching their child to respond to others' oopsies with grace. My guess is they're being intentional about it or modeling it well. Probably both.

Oopsies, also called whoopsies, come in varying degrees of impact. They can have way more serious consequences than mine had, but they can also be merely a spontaneous switch in plans that ends up being just as fun or special as one's first intention or expectation. Or perhaps they are simply an alteration that your smartphone makes to a word that you type in. The result can be surprising, maddening, humorous, or so intriguing that you continue to use the new expression just for the jolly of it.

Such was a whoopsie that my daughter Kayleen encountered a few weeks ago. Having received a pic of the whoopie pies her sister had procured as a snacking option, Kayl replied to Kerra's phone message by saying how yummy the snack looked, and that she'd been wanting to make whoopie pies herself sometime soon, too. Only, her phone (clearly having never been treated to whoopie pies in its lifetime)  auto-corrected it to "whoopsie pies". 😀

That's why, when I helped Kayl make actual whoopie pies last week, she referred to them as "whoopsie pies". We had such fun working together to make the whoopsies in her kitchen that day, mixing the chocolatey batter, baking the brown rounds on the cookie sheets, matching up the equal-sized cookies lying cooled on the table, spreading the whoopie goop on half the cookies, topping them with their matching unspread halves, pressing them together into cookie sandwiches, wrapping each chocolate sandwich cookie in Saran wrap, and visiting all the while. The finished "whoopsie pies" weren't whoopsies at all. They were some of the moistest, tastiest whoopie pies I've ever had. 

In searching for the origin of the oopsie-daisy phrase, I came across the idea that it began with people exclaiming "Upsa daesy!" when helping a child to leap up from the ground in play. Though our oopsie-daisy phrase has derived from the upsa-daesy exclamation, we've given it a different meaning. We use it as an expression after a trip-up or other mistake, usually exclaimed aloud by the one who did the messing up. We tend to shorten the phrase too, with merely exclaiming, "oops!" or "whoops!" as accompaniment to our latest blooper. 

The "daisy" part of the original phrase, though, is a kind of fancy add-on to "day", and maybe comes from picturing the "upsa-daesyed" child being on the ground among daisies. I was fascinated to find that the name daisy comes from the word day..."the flower, which closes at night and exposes its yellow center in sunlight, was thought of as the day's eye." 

 I guess I wasn't so far off, then, when I added "day-sies" to the title of this post. It seems like one way to describe the sharing of some happenings in my life lately. "Other day-sies" in recent weeks include:

~ babysitting my great-nephew, who is not only great but cute and charming besides

~ travelling to South Haven, Michigan to support our friend Bear by attending the funeral of his 91-year-old mother (and getting to meet Bear's twin brother for the first time)

~ sharing Sunday dinner and rousing conversation with some of Ken's family around our dining room table

~ subbing for Kerra at school two different Fridays, while she attended weddings of former Faith Builders classmates 

~ sewing two new dresses for myself which happens only about once a year, hence the remarkability

~ our friend "Debbie" treating us3@home to a Swiss Chalet rotisserie chicken meal

~ hosting an Oasis Ladies gather-n-chat time here one morning when four ladies showed up as well as that many children and a good time was had by all

~ Ken and I going on a week-long trip: to Pennsylvania where we separated for a few days - he to an apple conference and I to Kayl & Carlin's house - and where we got back together again at said house (also enjoyed a tour of the house-in-renovation) and to New York where we vacationed for a few days in a rental condo overlooking Canandaigua Lake, hiked on a lovely & snowy mountainside, cooked our own meals, and played lots of Boggle (which we claim is loads of fun and our children just roll their eyes)

~ Ken and I doing Wordle together and usually getting it in 3 or 4 tries, but once we got it in only 2 and once we couldn't even get it in 6 (oopsie-daisy!)

 How have your day-sies been blooming lately?

Addendum: How I Practice Slowing Down

Back in December, when I was intentionally blogging about slowing down, I began this post that I never brought to completion. Obviously, we are past the Christmas season and full swing into the New Year, but I've decided to post this anyway - on the off chance that there are others besides me for whom hurry and worry can show up at any time of the year.

Since this theme of Slowing Down has been on my mind so much recently, I've begun analyzing ways in my life that I intentionally "put on the brakes" or "haul on the binders", as my dad used to say. I've also been noticing areas in which I would like to practice more slowing down. I decided to make a list for each. I will share the results with you here. Note that the items on each list are not necessarily entered in the order of importance.

How I Practice Slowing Down:

1. Open my eyes to the treasure around me. Noticing things takes time, but slowing down and looking for the beauty in the ordinary all around me is very rewarding. When I see something unique or fascinating, I like to point it out to others, since taking the time to share the beauty with someone enriches my treasure hunt experience.

2. Pay attention to my body. I tend to take tension and anxiety inward. Sometimes when I am in hurry mode, I'm startled to realize that my forehead is literally bunched, my posture is hunched and my stomach is crunched. Taking a few moments to purposefully straighten my shoulders, lean back into the couch or seatback, and relax my facial and abdominal muscles can do wonders. (Sometimes my tongue is literally scrunched, too, and I need to purposefully peel it off the roof of my mouth.)

3. Name what's driving me. When the pressure starts to build, and I find myself getting uptight, it is helpful for me to identify what is causing the tension by naming it. Maybe I'm Overwhelmed or Fearing Failure or Lacking Wisdom. It could be that I have fallen into the trap of Pride or Comparison or People-pleasing (again. sigh.) When something has a name, it becomes more real, and I can start to get a handle on it, rather than having it control me. Also, if it is something I need to repent of, naming it is the first step in confession - agreeing with God about its reality. Then I can give it over to Him to handle. In any case, the intentional naming invites me to slow down in order to put into words what I am facing as well as helps to bring more clarity and peace to the situation. 

4. Make lists. Related to No. 3, this exercise requires slowing down in order to clarify and simplify. If all the things I have to do at any given time are a milling herd of nervous cattle, making a list is my lariat for corralling the lot. Hopefully the gathering and sorting results in calmer, more functional beasts.

5. Be grateful. Often, the act of gratitude requires me to shift focus and energies from myself to others. Slowing down to acknowledge that I owe a debt of thanks, and to direct the payment of gratitude to the giver is very beneficial. An almost-daily way I do this is documenting my thanks in a gratitude journal. Not only does it require me to slow down long enough to write a few lines, but also reading back over the list periodically results in restful reflection that multiplies the thanks.  

6. Use a grounding technique. When I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart and brain going at unearthly speed and hours, it helps me to do this calming exercise involving the five senses: 5. See five things (kind of hard to do in the darkness of midnight, but usually possible, albeit dimly) 4. Feel four things (smoothness of pillowcase, warm air from the register, etc.) 3. Hear three things (no problem with this one, especially if your spouse snores) 2. Smell two things (hopefully I can find good smells like shampoo or dried-on-the-clothesline sheets) 1. Taste one thing (this one is the trickiest; sometimes I'll have a tasty morsel only in my imagination)

7. Breathe-pray. Of course everyone knows that prayer changes things, including pace of life, but I'll admit that sometimes my thoughts and fears are on the autobahn and I can't even slow them down into sensible words, let alone sentences or paragraphs. I have found that the simplest prayers can be most effective. Once I heard a young lady say that our very breathing can be prayer, and I haven't dug into the theology of that or anything, but I think she is on to something. I tried it one night when I was experiencing sleep disturbances and kept waking up anxious. I decided to breathe-pray in short, easy phrases. Because we'd just had Communion at church and heard a sermon on "tasting" our Living Bread, I breathed in with these words, "I'm needy" and breathed out with Jesus' answer to me, "Take, eat (Me)". Through this simple repetitious conversation, Jesus brought me such calm.

How I Wish I Would Practice Slowing Down: (as in, slowing down on my way to altogether stopping, not slowing down to savor!)

1.  Not allow myself to be sucked into reading controversial-subjects-threaded facebook posts. I would love to learn the discipline of confidently strolling on by (or would it be scrolling on by?), if I know they will profit me nothing - or at least not much!  

2.  Get rid of the FOMO bug. Fear Of Missing Out is a pesky nuisance that can quickly develop into a full-blown infestation. I think FOMO is a modern term for NV, something that's been around for a long time. Contentment would be a good start in eradicating the pest.  

3. Be done with assuming things about others, judging their actions and motives, and trying to fix them, which is really just a nice name for being controlling. Not that I would have much experience in this department, or anything...

4. Kick the habit of pro  cras  tin  a  ting. Putting off, and putting off something important is not an ideal way to slow down. (Is this blog post a case in point??)

5. Forego the fear of failure. I've been noticing lately just how paralyzing this fear can be. If love is the antidote and caster-outer of fear, I should think that "doing the next right thing in love" (as Emily P Freeman, for one, says) is a great way to practice halting the failure fear.

What are the ways you are intentional about slowing down in your life - in a busy season, especially? Are there also areas in which you'd like to begin slowing down, with the goal of stopping entirely? I'd love to hear about them! 

Important Three-letter Hinge

 

"Don't be afraid," the angel could have said to us in a Wisconsin snowstorm, "FOR unto you is sent this morn a snow plow driver." 

On a recent Sunday morning during Sunday School, I learned about the important little word "for" that appears in fearful situations frequenting the Christmas Story. Our lesson was taken from Isaiah 43, where there are phrases such as "Fear not, for I have redeemed thee" and "Fear not, for I am with thee". One of the ladies in the class pointed out the similarities of these God-declarations in Isaiah to the messages that angels delivered to fearful Nativity characters. 

God didn't scold these anxious humans, He acknowledged their fear and gave them a reason to trust Him in the midst of that fear. The word "for" is the hinge connecting His directive for them not to be afraid with the reason they didn't need to be: Don't fear, Mary, FOR you have found favor with God. Joseph, don't be afraid to take Mary as your wife, FOR her coming baby is conceived of the Holy Ghost. Fear not, Shepherds, FOR unto you is born this day a Savior who is Christ the Lord. 

"Don't be afraid in fearful circumstances, Dear Child of God, FOR your Heavenly Father is provisionary and trustworthy" seemed to be a takeaway from the lesson. What a great truth, I thought, as I left Sunday School. I will need to remember that for my own anxious moments. I had no idea how soon I would be able to put it into practice.

Later on that same Sunday, Ken & I and Kerra headed out on the drive to Hayward, Wisconsin for our "Christmas" with the Schrocks. We began our trip several hours earlier than we had initially planned because of a significant snowfall forecast for northern Michigan and Wisconsin, areas we traverse on our typical route to Hayward.

We made excellent time as we drove through the night on bare roads with minimal traffic. Near the town of Iron Mountain in Michigan, though, we hit snow. The first snowflakes in the air soon turned into a full-blown snowstorm of the thick, swirling, mesmerizing, hypnotizing brand.

Ken drove well, but slowly. The more we crept along the trackless, desolate stretch of road, the more tense I became. Ken asked me to help him keep an eye out for the edge of the road and an ear out for the rumble strip embedded in the center line of the road, so I hunched forward and peered out the windshield into the storm.

The 3.5 hours it usually takes to get from Iron Mountain to Mom & Dad's place in Hayward stretched into almost twice that long because of the driving difficulty. We navigated areas of poor visibility, and a few times we pulled off the road for a breather and to see if the storm would let up any for us to go on. (These ten-or-fifteen-minute breaks did seem to make things easier.) In some places, we pushed ahead through deep unplowed sections, and then slowed way down when the snow we were "plowing" with the van whooshed up over the windshield, creating sudden whiteouts. 

At one point, when we were an hour or so from Hayward (under normal driving conditions, that is), Ken pulled off the highway onto a side road to de-ice the windshield wipers. The van was just nicely off the main road, headed down a slight dip on that side road, when another vehicle came toward us and we had to get off to the side of the narrow road to let that driver by. 

When we came to a full stop, we were quite close to the snowbank at the edge of the road and when Ken tried to back the van up onto the side road proper again, the right front wheel slid farther into the bank and we were stuck. 

The knowledge that we were very stuck gradually sunk in after a lot of tire-spinning and passenger-pushing and hands-shoveling of snow away from the van wheels and a futile putting of van floor mats behind said wheels. "We'll need someone to pull us out of here," said Driver Ken, who is also known as Mr. Optimistic.  

Oh, dear! If Mr. Optimistic says we can't get unstuck by ourselves, it's bad. My fear kicked into high gear even though my senses were somewhat sluggish from having travelled all night with little sleep. How will we get out? It's still dark out! The snow is so deep! We're too far from Hayward to call my brothers and bother them to come get us unstuck. We're in a very unpopulated area of northern Wisconsin. If and when a vehicle does come by on the main road, we're too far in this side road to be seen by its driver... 

And then, after Kerra and I had climbed back into the warm van and Ken had walked off into the cold without telling us where he was going, (we ladies didn't know yet that his destination was up beside the main highway to flag down some help) I noticed the gas gauge light had come on. The next thing I knew, the distance to empty reading on the van dashboard was 0 km. Oh, great! I thought. Now we're going to sit here until we run out of gas yet. As if we don't have enough running-out-of-gas stories in our repertoire! Fine, I'll shut the motor off and just hope we don't freeze before somebody stops to help. 

I think it was at that point, when cynicism was about to join hands with my despair, I thought about praying. I don't think I actually remembered in detail my earlier commitment to fear not, FOR my God is trustworthy, but I did remember that I can cry to Him for help. So I did. Later, I learned it was right then that Ken specifically prayed God would send a vehicle along on the main road - someone with a rope or chain - to pull us out. This was after he had waited on the shoulder of the main highway for a very long time without seeing a single car or truck on the road. 

Very shortly after we both prayed our separate but joined prayers, a tow truck approached, slowed down somewhat, and drove on by. Soon after that, we heard...what is that, a flutter of angel wings? No, wait, that's a rumble of snow plow blades! 

Ken talked to the snow plow driver, who said that yes, he has a chain along, and no, he's not allowed to stop his highway work to pull somebody out of the ditch, and yes, he would want someone to stop and help if he was the one stuck in the snow at the side of the road, so no, he was not going to obey the letter of the law (my words), and yes, he would hook up his chain to our van and "walk" us right outta there. (pretty much his words)

It was an easy piece of work for his plow to pull our van out of the snowy ditch to the middle of the side road, facing away from the main highway. The driver accepted our immense gratitude for his help, but he wouldn't take any of the money Ken offered him for his trouble. After he left to continue plowing the snowy highway, we still had to back out of the side road before we could get out onto the main road and continue on our way to Hayward. 

Ken tried backing the van up the slight rise toward the highway, but he couldn't gain enough speed and  momentum to do it. The tires started spinning again. Since there was no room to turn around on that narrow road, eventually Ken drove ahead farther into the side road's snowy depths. He figured that way he could get more of a run at it when he put it in reverse again, but that move put my worrying into gear again. I was almost sure we would shimmy right back into the ditch, and then what? Wouldn't that be tempting God or something, to require a second rescue? 

But Ken steadily backed the van through the deep snow and out onto the main highway, where we were soon once again pointed toward Mom & Dad's place. Thankfully, both lanes of the highway were plowed by that time. The snow had stopped falling, and daylight had come. 

We made it to a gas station just outside Hayward to refuel before our vehicle ran out of gas completely (the angle the van was in from leaning into the snowbank had distorted the gas gauge reading). And, after some second tries and maneuverations through the ten inches of snow on Mom & Dad's unplowed road, we "skittered into their driveway" at last. 

What a happy reunion with my parents! And what a happy time we had with the Wisconsin Schrocks in the coming days, celebrating Christmas and delighting in the privilege of being together in person. It definitely was worth it, to go through our travel difficulties to get to the good family times in the end.

I feel a bit more connection to the once-fearful people in the Christmas story, now that I've encountered my own "fear not, FOR..." experience. The details of my story have implications of far less significance than theirs have, but the God to whom they surrendered their fears is the same One who assures me of His trustworthiness in any current situation. "FOR unto you this morn I send you a snow plow driver..."

Done With Me

I do it every time. Even during a Christmas season in which I am intentional about slowing down, in spite of ramping up the expectations by telling other people about my intentions, no matter that I definitely plan not to, I do it: I GET UPTIGHT.

Making lists helps me to feel more relaxed, probably because it gives me at least some sense of being in control of things. If I can pull down items out of the thick, swirling nebula of Everything I Could, Would, and Should Do, and get them down on paper in concrete terms, I don't feel quite so anxious. This year, though, in spite of intentionally slowing down and in spite of making numerous lists, I started feeling the Christmas-planning-and-preparation crunch around the middle of December. 

So timely, then, was the reading for the day from Ann Voskamp's book "The Greatest Gift" on Dec. 16: "...we are most prepared for Christ, for Christmas, when we confess we are mostly not prepared. Rest here. There is only room in us when we are done with us." 

It's my annual tradition to read through "The Greatest Gift" from Dec. 1-25, marking passages that are meaningful to me that particular year, as well as answering the questions in the daily Moment for Reflection sections. 

Because I can read back over my notes in the book from year to year, I am beginning to notice themes that connect my present circumstances and wisdom from the Book (through Ann's words). Two basic themes I see recurring are 1. I am not enough 2. He is. 

In view of my yearly notations, it seems that I should expect uptightness over Christmas time. I should also expect HisLightness to be offered. Why am I surprised by both?

Perhaps Ann has experienced both, as well. She writes as though she has. There were other timely gems that I treasured during my slowing down times with her Advent book:

"You are most prepared for Christmas when you are done trying to make your performance into the gift and instead revel in His presence as the Gift."

"You most take hold of God when you simply receive Him in the moment taking hold of you. Taking hold of your unsure hand. Taking hold of your unseen needs. Taking hold of your unknown stress."

"We struggle to receive. Sometimes we are better givers than getters. Grace? For me? I don't have to bring anything? What if someone sees how empty I am? How I am not enough, how my gifts are not enough, how giving all I've got is never enough? ...your greatest gift is not your gifts, but your surrendered yes to be a space for God."

"Nothing is harder for capable people at Christmas than to simply come and receive."

I've made a mental list for myself:

Simple Reminders for an Uptight Dani

1. Rest. 

2. Receive.

3. Repeat.

One of my favorite gifts to receive this season is time spent with family. The following pics are a sampling of those times in the weeks surrounding Christmas. 

I enjoyed helping Kerra (a Junior Sunday School superintendent) choose, purchase, and wrap Christmas gift books for the preschool children at our church. 

One evening when Kayleen & Carlin were at our place for the holidays, we took them out for supper to a local Swiss Chalet restaurant. In a sweet moment of serendipity, we met Ken's sister Colleen and her family in the parking lot when we arrived. Neither of our two families had known the other would be there! We were able to sit at the same table to enjoy our meals and conversation together. 

At the Kenites' Christmas gathering, Grandpa and Seth "played" several games of chess together.

Favorite family gathering games include Codenames.

At a meal during the Kenites Christmas Gathering we included our friend "Debbie", who was highly appreciative of the food and fellowship.

Ken's mom and sisters (Laurel, Janet, Colleen, Sharon) are wonderful ladies in my life!

These lovely young ladies are only two of the bunch of Martin Family nieces and nephews that has been accumulating over the years. Aren't I such a lucky aunt?

What gifts have you enjoyed receiving over the Christmas season this year?

A Picturesque Saturday Evening

 

We looked forward to it all week: spending a winter Saturday evening with Ricky and Jasmine. The invitation promised supper at their table, a walk in "their park" (how handy is it to have your apartment back onto one of your city's beautiful parks?), and the privilege of joining them in their evening Advent time. It did not disappoint! Ricky & Jasmine's first hospitality feature was handing us cups of hot apple cider to accompany us warmly on our chilly stroll through Waterloo Park. 

The festival of lights called Wonders of Winter is on right now in the park. We saw various arrangements of lights displaying anything from animals to storybook characters to biblical scenes. 

Among the many light displays, there was a wooden structure depicted as the Bethlehem stable. A special nativity scene inside took our eye, especially after it was pointed out that the carvings came from the Shepherd's Fields olive wood store in Bethlehem. We'd been to that very place on our trip to Israel a few years ago, and recognized the style of wooden nativity scene.

Back in Ricky & Jasmine's apartment, supper was a beautiful and tasty event.

I loved how Jasmine paired the cornbread and butter on one platter.

The chili-turned-taco-soup was perfect for a mid-December evening!

What a gorgeous dessert tray! The peanut butter balls or chestnuts or buckeyes - take your pick of terminology - were as delicious as they were intriguing of name. I googled buckeyes and discovered that they are named after the Ohio Buckeye, a tree in the chestnut family. The picture of buckeye nuts that popped up on my phone screen looked very much like the buckeyes on the plate.  

The moments after supper were filled with relaxing conversation, music, and reminiscing.

Joining Ricky's in their evening Advent time was a perfect way to end the day. To slow down, be still, listen, wait, watch, yearn, confess, grieve, rejoice. To pray and to sing. To embrace the Light. Together.