Summer’s Last Hurrah! (My Top 10–This Just Got Real)

Posted on July 23, 2014 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Vacation Flashback: S’mores with Aunt Tricia

Every summer has a story. –Unknown

Summer never looks so good as it does on the last day of school! Like a brand new penny, summertime is all shiny, a token of possibilities just waiting to be spent 🙂 Back in May, we anxiously awaited days of unscheduled fun and endless adventure (not to mention the joy of “forgetting” to set the alarm clock!) In so many ways I was more excited about summer than my kids…the monotony of pick up/drop off and the constant scheduling/rescheduling of team practices, medical appointments, school projects, etc…. And while it’s not my favorite season of the year, summer was sure sounding pretty good! In theory, I was willing to overlook the scorching temperatures, bugs and the chaos that is the spontaneity of summer. I planned (funny, huh?) on enjoying it all and loosening the reins of my control freak lifestyle. Feel free to laugh at me….

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Oh yeah…THE SNOW CONE!

Now that the end of July has rolled around (and the school supplies have debuted at the local stores,) I realize that this summer has been anything but the relaxing, carefree season I imagined. Don’t get me wrong. I’m NOT complaining. I spent the better part of the summer watching my children grow and learn on the baseball/softball diamond. We’ve squeezed in sleepovers, sports camps, swim lessons, and Vacation Bible School. My “Camp MOM” program has netted the children a few prizes while propelling (okay, FORCING) them to look at Scripture in a new and exciting (?) way. We’ve easily eaten our weight in Dairy Queen ice cream and discovered the addiction that is THE SNOW CONE! We’ve managed to eke out a little pool time (NEVER enough for my kids.) And we made our way to Grandma and Grandpa’s for a little family visit. All very good things! Still, I feel a little incomplete. The busyness of summer has me feeling like we missed out on the lazy, less hurried parts of the season. Frankly, we’re running out of days and there’s still more on my list.

So here and now, I’m putting out for all to see MY Summer Wish List…because summer break is all about the parents, right? Forget about the kids (not really!) Here goes nothing:

1. Catch fireflies in a pickle jar. Might as well be specific 🙂 Don’t worry, catch and RELEASE!

2. Stargazing. My opportunity to impress my kiddos with my vast knowledge of constellations. Yeah, right.

3. Drive in movie. This is a tough one because I don’t really like sitting through movies…it’s a huge time investment. Equally problematic is that I’m REALLY picky about the movies that I watch. Cross your fingers.

4. Road trip. Okay, if you know us…then you’re already aware that we’ve been on the road for baseball tournaments this summer. Those don’t count. I want to go see nature…(I can’t believe I uttered those words!) I’m thinking State Park adventure 🙂

5. S’mores. Enough said. Throw in a couple of campfire songs and we just might call this one EPIC!

6. Eat outside. I don’t know why, but I love to picnic. It goes against my ant phobia, but it’s really true. I enjoy dining outdoors.

7. Professional baseball game. This is already in the works! Hooray 🙂

8. Read three GOOD books. I’m sort of a nonfiction junky…and those are typically long reads. Managing to get through three would be heavenly. I’m still on book one.

9. Visit Lawrence, Kansas. Stroll down memory lane while reminding my kids that they can choose any college they want (as long as I approve of it.)

10. Go to the zoo. Because it’s fun and I like Orangutans (a lot.)

Okay, people. There it is. And since time stops for no one, I needed to get started on this list YESTERDAY. Because while summer technically goes through September, my kiddos start school in mid-August.

Summertime is always the best of what might be. -Charles Bowden

UPDATE 8/2014: Completed 9 out of the 10. Not bad 🙂

Desperately Seeking Female Role Models (Celebrities Need Not Apply)

Posted on July 14, 2014 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Like a gold ring in a pig’s nose is a beautiful woman who lacks discretion. Proverbs 11:22

I’m not the first mother to wonder about my kid’s choices in role models. And I’m not writing this because my daughter has suddenly gone all Britney Spears, Katy Perry, Miley Cyrus or (insert your favorite female celebrity villain here.) Still, it has come to my attention recently that being a lady isn’t really high on anyone’s priority list anymore. So much so that recently when I told my daughter that a certain behavior was not “lady like,” she looked at me with a puzzled expression. Mom fail 😦

The era of fairy tales: My sweet princess at age 4.

Here’s the problem: I’m her mother. And one of the things I pride myself on is being a lady. Yet my daughter seems pretty unaffected, confused, (and quite possibly) doesn’t care about what that means. I’ve been told that as a mother, I am my daughter’s primary influence and still, I’m not seeing the fruit of my labor. I feel like I’m losing the battle in a war where I thought we were all on the same side. And by we, I mean women. Turns out the rules of engagement have changed–BIG TIME. So maybe I need to come up with a new strategy…and I need YOUR help.

The whole dilemma requires a little sorting out. When I think about what it means to be a lady, I will admit that the first couple of things that come to mind are superficial, you know, surface stuff. Good manners, age appropriate dress, polite disposition…you get the drift. I can hear the groans now–THIS ISN’T 1950. To which I have to say, I know and I’m not trying to make a case for going back to that decade (and for your information I wasn’t even alive then, either.) But I think there is something to be said for these external characteristics, because like it or not they demonstrate the heart and spirit of a person. For example, good manners are the outward expression of one who puts others above themselves and exhibits generosity and kindness. This person is not a pushover, soft or a “goody goody” as my daughter might call them. (BTW, in kid speak a “goody goody” is a derogative term and means that someone is only pretending to be proper.) Good manners reflect a common courtesy, demonstrate a love for one’s neighbor, and reflect a sense of personal pride. I hold these things in high regard and I don’t often see them in young people. Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon to see young girls swearing, name calling, belching, lying, dressing provocatively and flat-out acting anything but lady like! And this is just the tip of the iceberg. Sure, females can do anything that males can do, but I still think an argument can be made for being the “fairer” sex. (And that doesn’t mean letting the guys of the hook for their lack of decorum, but that’s another post.)

I want my daughter to say please and thank you, to acknowledge someone when they walk into or exit a room, to know how to sit in a dress, to make eye contact with adults, to speak and not yell, to chew her food without putting it on display for the world, to treat others justly and with respect all while having combed (tangle free) hair and a good attitude (no white pearls required.) Instead, I see her influenced by her rough and tumble brother, her peers, music that glamorizes booty shaking and countless television shows where kids make the rules and adults are portrayed as irrelevant idiots. Girls are depicted as shallow, devious, backbiters who will stop at nothing to get ahead and put others down in the process. If we reap what we sow, what exactly are we setting our children up for? In no way, shape or form, will I give up on my little girl or the girls of the world for that matter. I refuse to rely on the school, church, social clubs, media, or society to raise my kids…but I’m not above asking for their help or support. We are in this together.

I know this won’t be wildly popular. Accountability never is. But holding our young girls to something better is important. I want my daughter (and yours) to be confident, caring, strong, and intelligent all while being afforded every good opportunity that the world has to offer. I want our little girls to be taken seriously and to know their worth isn’t based on how pretty or thin society judges them to be. I don’t want our girls to derive their power from sex and provocativeness in the way that so many of today’s celebrities do. Similarly, girls do not need to tear down other girls to make themselves standout. Our girls are worth so much more than that. At the same time, I want them to take pride in who they are on the inside and outside without feeling like they have to act like males to get ahead in this world. If we can live in a culture that claims to celebrate diversity, then why can’t we live in a world where acting like a lady isn’t a negative or a slam against women?

A lady exudes grace. A lady stands out in a room for all the right reasons. Her life and the way she carries herself speak to her great character. A lady is powerful and others are drawn to her strength. I feel like the lines were so much clearer 20 years ago. Somewhere we have blurred the boundaries and gotten off track. My little girl is special (and so is yours!) I want her to grow up in a society where men hold the doors open for women, swearing like a sailor is actually left to the sailors, gentlemen who wish to court my daughter come to the door to meet her parents, and she is valued for the jewel that she is. I pray she is not influenced by cleavage and short shorts at every turn, feels that she has to keep up with the boys to be taken seriously, yell or be rude to voice her opinions or settle for anything less than a gentlemen.

I need your help. Please be the tasteful, responsible, smart and beautiful women that I know you can be. Hold yourself accountable for all the little ones out there. They are so easily influenced and if you sell yourself short, you are not only letting yourself down, but you’re providing a disservice to little girls everywhere. I remember when my daughter was tiny and she dressed as a princess and believed she was really something special. Some days that tiara never came off! She even went through a spell where she wore a white pearl necklace (a la June Cleaver) with every outfit, everyday. She was royalty and not the diva-like, spotlight seeking, entitled, stop at nothing to get ahead females we see today. Just a precious child who believed she could do and be anything. Somewhere along the way she realized that real princesses don’t exist and was left to settle for the ways of the world. And so today, I’m desperately seeking female role models who will represent women in a positive light. Women who will be real, authentic, elegant, modest, smart, athletic, and all around awesome! I want my daughter to see these women at the grocery store, at school, at the ballpark, in politics, on television…basically everywhere. And I want her to want to be a lady, not because her mother told her to, but because as the quote goes, “being a female is a matter of birth, being a woman is a matter of age, but being a lady is a matter of choice.”

http://www.playbuzz.com/katelynw11/how-ladylike-are-you

Gonna Make My Black Thumb Green (aka A Lesson in Faith Planting)

Posted on April 5, 2014 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them. Liberty Hyde Bailey

I didn’t just believe that I had a black thumb, I had confirmed it…time and TIME again. You probably think that I’m exaggerating, but it’s a well documented fact. Have you ever had someone take a plant AWAY from you? Yes, that has happened to me (and not just once.) I was a cold-blooded plant killer and I’m not proud of it. I wanted to be able to grow things, I really did. I potted, watered, and adjusted for sunlight and shade. I wasn’t above asking for help, checking out library books and looking up tips on the internet. It just wasn’t my knack and, honestly…hey, I was cool with that. But for some unknown reason, people kept giving me plants (I think that happens when you move as often as we have…let’s face it, a plant is a pretty safe “welcoming” gift.) In defense of these plant-bearing gift givers, I realize that you all had no idea what these little green treasures were in store for once they were under my care 🙂

Fast forward several years and while I’m certainly no green thumb, I’m not quite the plant killing queen that I used to be. So, I still can’t grow ANYTHING from a seed, but I have managed to keep three plants alive (and mostly thriving.) One plant has actually been around for nearly five years and I’m proud to report that it has somehow managed to survive three repotting stints as well. (Yes, it’s the little things.) In fact, I actually purchased a plant (my first time) just last month and so far…well, so good. I think my mother-in-law would be so surprised and my mom, well I’m sure she can just hardly believe it’s true! (The black thumb thing runs in the family.)

Thinking about this shift in my gardening abilities reminds me of another change in my life. This one pertaining to my faith in God. While I’ve been a believer just about as long as I can remember, I was never really comfortable sharing that faith. To be honest, I didn’t know how. As a kid I can remember occasionally going to church, however, I really didn’t have any formal faith upbringing. Despite all this, I considered myself a hard-core, pint-size prayer warrior (and I’m not even sure that was a term at the time.) I prayed about anything and everything. My overactive imagination, news junkie status (even as a kid) and an overwhelming realization that we lived in a broken and scary world would occupy my thoughts from the time my head hit the pillow until dawn. So often I found peace and comfort in prayer and somehow knew that there was a great, big God out there who loved and cared about me.

In time, those little prayers eventually turned into a desire to read the Bible…which gets easier once you learn how to read and possess a vocabulary. By the time I was in high school I was working on reading the Bible all the way through. I would read one chapter a night before bed–and I don’t think anyone ever knew. I really didn’t talk about it. I just did it. Looking back, I’m pretty sure that I didn’t understand much of what I read. I just felt called to do it. And when I finished, I started over. Look, I’m no theological scholar and I certainly didn’t consider myself holier than my teenage counterparts. All I know is that the more I learned about God, the more my love for Him continued to grow.

I wish I could say that my Bible reading led me into church as a young adult. It didn’t. Of course, I did do a lot of praying in college…it WAS college after all!!! I had tests to pray for, temptations to avoid, friends who needed help, and then of course there was safety and an entire crazy world out there to worry about. I think in some ways my desire to get into journalism was a love for writing tied into an off shoot of a faith that I was trying to figure out. My end goal in my pursuit to become a reporter was always to make the world a better place. I wholeheartedly believe that knowledge is power. I thought if we could just gain an awareness for the people in our neighborhoods, community and world that we would all have our hearts transformed–we could BE BETTER and DO BETTER. Little did I know that this warm stirring that I so desperately wanted to impart on the hearts of others was in line with a desire to share with the planet the God that I was coming to know.

My faith journey goes on from there, but those early years–the faith planting years–came to mind today as I watered and tended to my plants. Now, I look forward to attending church every Sunday (actually I’m something of a church nerd as I love visiting new churches whenever I can.) I also love being a ministry volunteer and a pastor’s wife. I continue to read and pray and discover more ways to draw closer to God. I often thank God for putting people in my life to inspire and encourage me to pursue this faith. What I once kept guarded and close to my heart, I now openly talk about. I’m not afraid to share what I know about God. In fact, I feel called to talk about Him often…especially with young people. I remind them (and myself) that it takes time to develop and foster any kind of worthwhile relationship. The same is true with faith. The world won’t know about our awesome Creator, if someone (you? me?) doesn’t share it with them. I still wholeheartedly believe knowledge is power. And if faith and following Jesus is the most powerful choice we can make in our lifetime, I want every person to have that option.

I can’t tell you what a blessing it is to have my children grow up in the church. Faith planted…I see their early development (and that of their peers) tended to by good men and women whose lives serve as living testimonies to faith in a mighty God and who desire nothing more than the same for my kiddos and others. In this season of my life, this is where I focus my attention. What a blessing it is to witness a child’s heart discovering God for the first time. Connecting with a young person and letting them know that there is a Creator who loves them. Sharing scripture and Bible lessons with new believers and fostering the kind of environment that says there is so much more out there for each of us. Seeing Christ’s love influence the thoughts and actions in so many young ones…well, it takes my breath away.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would have an opportunity or even the ability to share and witness faith like this. I didn’t think I was capable or qualified. I didn’t think I could GROW into that person. God had a better idea and I really can’t wait to see what blooms as a result.

This most generous God who gives seed to the farmer that becomes bread for your meals is more than extravagant with you. He gives you something you can then give away, which grows into full-formed lives, robust in God, wealthy in every way, so that you can be generous in every way, producing with us great praise to God.

2 Corinthians 9:10-11 The Message

February…How Do I LOVE Thee? (Song 3 in the Countdown)

Posted on February 3, 2014 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Love Songs to Melt Your Heart and Move Your Soul: Song 3

Love is…coming home to all my favorite things (people and pets included.) -me

Home. There’s no place like it. It all comes back to that familiar quote—home is where the heart is.

Wherever and whatever you consider home…there’s nothing that compares to that feeling. The familiarity, the comfort, the little things that make it “just right.” I LOVE going home. Home is where you can take your shoes off, where you can breathe, where you can find true peace. And like the song says…”I wanna go home.”

There are three places that I personally consider “home.” First, my hometown. Although at this point in my life I’ve spent more time away from western Kansas that I actually spent growing up there, I still consider it home. I know where (just about) everything is. It’s where my old schools are, where great memories were made, and most importantly—it’s where most of my family still live. Home.

Second, is Lawrence, Kansas. While attending college I had the opportunity to grow and spread my wings. I learned to be self-reliant and develop character. I found out my strengths and weaknesses. I had my first taste of life on my own. Still to this day, whenever I visit I am immediately transported back in time to a carefree existence where there was nothing but possibility and adventure at every turn. Home.

Finally, my actual home…you know, where my stuff is at. I think this one is more of an emotion than an actual location. Over the past 20+ years, I’ve moved a number of times and not just in the same town. And, for as much as I hate packing, I actually don’t mind the moving all that much. Wherever we can all be together that becomes my sanctuary and safe haven. Home.

Coming Up: Love Songs to Melt Your Heart and Move Your Soul: Song 4

***This post is part of an ongoing series. As part of my cup half full approach to loving the month of February, I vow to jump in with both feet and embrace the whole Valentine thing with my own custom list of Love Songs to Melt Your Heart and Move Your Soul. Ambitious? Yes! Bold? Absolutely! Crazy? You betcha! Pointless? On just about every level. Regardless, let’s give it a go—I mean it’s February and how else am I going to get through the coldest, bleakest, cloudiest, shortest (and longest at the same time) month on the calendar. Let the countdown to Valentine’s Day begin! I (gritting teeth) LOVE February, how about YOU?

It Really is HOW You Play the Game….

Posted on January 20, 2014 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Let me begin with this: I don’t have an athletic bone in my body. So, for many, I have absolutely no cred when it comes to talking about sports of any kind. That’s okay, I don’t mind talking about it anyway 🙂 In fact, it’s not so much the sports aspect that caught my eye this weekend…it’s more the human reaction to it. Look, they say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but you can pretty much get the gist of it by reading a chapter. Satire, mystery, fiction, inspiration…you get the point. And if the old adage also holds true—“you only get one chance to make a first impression”…then we all might want to check ourselves before, well…you know.

Flashback photo…Raising little Kansas Jayhawk fans.

So, here goes nothing. Like most people, I’m a sports fan. My favorite team in this great, big, wonderful world is the Kansas Jayhawks (for a myriad of reasons, but we’ll save that for later date.) But I also enjoy many different types of sports and follow several other teams as well. In my community, circle of friends and in my family for that matter there’s a wide variety of sports fans. Some of us live for football, hockey, and tennis. Others can’t get enough NBA, golf and volleyball. Personally, I’m a college basketball and baseball fan and thanks to my kiddos, I have a great appreciation for soccer. Different strokes for different folks. Amen, right? Still, one of the things that always strikes me about some fans is their (my) deep, die-hard passion for our sport of choice. We not only follow our designated tribe, but we support it with our time, energy and often, our money. No judgement here…I’m right with you.

Where things get tricky, though, is when we start to dis each other and personally belittle our perceived opponents. I can hear the groans and comments already…“this is why girls shouldn’t watch sports, you’re ruining the industry, this is how the game is played, if you don’t like it–don’t watch it.” I hear you and I understand. But it still begs the question, do we really accomplish anything when we put down our foes? What does it prove? Especially, if we’re on the winning end. I’m asking…. It seems that anytime you give your heart over to something…there’s going to be passion and intensity. Just like any relationship there will be huge highs and deep lows in fanhood. And since our teams foster a family like comradery…things can get personal fast. And not only do they get personal, but they can also get ugly.

This morning everyone is talking about the NFC Championship game and some of the post game antics. It was a hard-fought game. Can we agree on that? Depending upon who you were rooting for (and for the sake of disclosure I will tell you that my team lost), you were either right there with this (now notorious) cornerback, Richard Sherman, or you’ve reactively thrown your support behind a man who many describe as THE All-American quarterback, Peyton Manning. It doesn’t take but a second to scroll through any number of social media outlets to see the reactions and commentary. It’s been less than 24 hours since the hoopla aired, and arguments have been made on both sides. Some have tried to rationalize and excuse the behavior by calling on player intensity and testosterone. Others have written him off as classless and a thug. We’re all entitled to our opinion, it’s how we choose to express it that matters. In fact, I’ve been sort of surprised to see which side fans, sports gurus and radio personalities have signed on to. It’s also been equally interesting to see where my own circle of friends stand on these events.

Personally, my heart hurts for Richard Sherman. I saw his post game interview live like many other football fans. His moment on national television, the replay of his butt slap, choking gestures and trash talk against Michael Crabtree were truly baffling to me. Here was a man who had just demonstrated that he’s at the top of his game. He played a key role in his team moving on to the Super Bowl. I think the whole world expected him to be excited and amped up (and does it really matter who started it?) but using his airtime to disrespect an opponent…well it doesn’t add up, especially now that countless reports have come out about Sherman’s educational accolades, his communications degree from Stanford and blog writing/interviewing abilities. In a world where image is everything and first impressions are lasting impressions, Richard Sherman just cast himself as a football villain and in the hearts of many that role will last a lifetime. Football players often live and die in the moment. Whether it’s a consequence of personality or just the nature of the athletes who play the game, he has just categorized himself in a less than ideal light and he may spend his career (and life) trying to undo the damage of a few seconds on national television.

Unfortunately, fanhood means that we’ll never know the hearts and minds of those sports figures we idolize, but let this be a lesson to all of us. The way you play the game…your game, my game…will be noted. The world keeps records, it profiles and categorizes, and is not always gracious in forgiving our wrongdoings. How much more important does it become for each of us to live our lives more thoughtfully. Our words and actions are and will be judged. That’s a fact. If you don’t care, more power to you. Still most of us, if we truly examine our hearts, want to know that we have lived life well. As a sports fan, as part of a sports family and as a human being I want to live a life without regret. We all have our moments…where we wish we had done things, said things, differently. We can make amends and there are roads to reconciliation and redemption. Thank God for that. But wouldn’t it be better if we could just be better people? If what spills out in our words and actions really reflect our heart wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t look and sound like self-centered, entitled, thoughtless, rude men and women?

I don’t mind telling you that I won’t be rooting for the Seahawks on Super Bowl Sunday. In the same breath I can tell you that I also won’t be cheering on the Broncos either (I’m a Chiefs fan, and therefore diametrically opposed, you understand.) Chances are, however, that as sports fans we’ll be checking in on the game, rating the commercials, and eating more than we should. I’m going to keep Michael Sherman in my prayers and hope that he and all the other athletes on the field play their hearts out, take in and savor their moment in the national spotlight and finally, make good choices…because the whole world is watching (and I’m trying to raise sports fans.)

You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else. –Albert Einstein

My World According to George Strait

Posted on January 17, 2014 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

I’m usually in the mood right after dinner. Something about a full belly, a mountain of dishes, left overs sealed in GladWare, and disinfecting the counter tops seems to put me in a George Strait state of mind. There’s nothing like classic George when you feel like singing at the top of your lungs while your heart breaks into a thousand pieces as you simultaneously two-step with a broom…the occasional teardrop running down your cheek. Good times 🙂

My imaginary fan meet up with George Strait. Hope Martina doesn’t mind that I inserted my face over hers in this photo!

I don’t think anyone would classify me as a country music fan…although there were a few years in the mid-nineties where I “walked the line.” Okay, I’ll confess—I had a hat at the time, but it was just for the Little Texas concert at the county fair! My get-up was technically faux cowgirl…you know, trendy “booties” instead of real ropers, but I never went as far as having a belt buckle or Wrangler jeans. I did have a few radio presets dedicated to the local country music station at age 18, but all of it faded away just as quickly as it set in. Yet somehow, I managed to fall (and stay) in love with George Strait. And back in the day, I would have donned all that western wear, moved to Texas and developed a real southern drawl just for him. I mean, if I was ever going to go for a cowboy…it would have had to have been him—because if you’re gonna love a cowboy, why not love one who can sing?

While clearing the kitchen table and belting out a little George, the thought occurred to me—almost every song reminds me of a place in time. Memories, days gone by, people who I know and have known. It appears that several of his tunes have served as the soundtrack to many different seasons in my life. Crushes, first love, long drives, adventure, good times and bad. Right or Wrong, Fool Hearted Memory, A Fire I Can’t Put Out…seem to speak to times of young love and the intense feelings that often come with those first break ups and let downs. It was like George was the only one in the world who knew exactly how I felt! Then there were catchy tunes like The Fireman that remind me of KU and driving home with my roommate Sara in her hot, little red car. You Can’t Make a Heart Love Somebody, Easy Come, Easy Go, and Write This Down mark times where I learned important lessons about moving on and trusting God’s plan in both life and relationships. Twangy feel good music like Am I Blue always make me want to dance the day away. And two of my favorites–The Chair and All My Ex’s Live in Texas remind me of my parents–especially my dad’s band and concerts in the park downtown on summer evenings.

Unlike my other music phases, my George fanaticism began at a young age. I remember hearing George in the background while I learned to sew at my Grandma’s house. His songs seemed to play non-stop the first time I visited the great state of Texas (not to mention every time that I’ve ever stepped foot there.) George rode shot-gun with my best friend, Amy and I on our great Tulia, TX adventure in college. Later, his music again played on the radio appropriately setting the stage for a trip to Nashville. And it was George who traveled with me when I moved from Kansas to California. He was my cowboy companion as I cruised the interstate…thank goodness for a cassette player with auto-reverse! I laughed out loud while listening to Ocean Front Property in Arizona…scoping the horizon for his imaginary piece of real estate as I neared Phoenix. One song after another served as the backdrop to beautiful countryside and endless highway. And it was Heartland that later satisfied my soul when I found myself homesick for family and friends back in the Midwest. Other songs like Carrying Your Love with Me and I Cross My Heart remind me of true love, family values, and faith in God.

I know I’m not the only one with memories like these. And it’s been equally as fun to introduce my children to George’s music. His CD 50 Number Ones was on our vacation playlist as we traveled through Denver, Cheyenne, Salt Lake City, Lake Tahoe and finally into the San Francisco Bay area a few summers ago. They claim not to like him…but one glance in the rear view mirror and it’s hard not to notice them singing along. Just tonight my son belted out three songs in a row as he wandered into the kitchen asking aloud, “How do I know every single word?” My daughter rolls her eyes when I bust out a little George in the car on the way home from basketball games. Yet, I wouldn’t be surprised if someday George Strait makes his way onto their playlists. I imagine them sheepishly trying explain to their friends that these songs remind them of their mom and childhood! Better yet, I’d love to hear their take on the little ditty I call my “ultimate George Strait life song”—Ace in the Hole. They frequently give me the oddest looks when I tell them that there’s a life lesson in that song that will serve them well…if they just pay attention. Sure, Mom…sure.

While my radio presets today run the gamut from News Talk and Christian contemporary to Pop and Top 40, modern technology makes it easy enough to find George when and wherever the mood strikes. I don’t have any crazy aspirations of ever meeting George Strait. In fact, it’s probably better this way. I’ve been lucky enough to see him in concert twice and I’m good with that. As for me, our occasional kitchen-after-dinner meet-ups will continue to suffice, especially since they’ve been going on for years. Besides…who would two-step with the broom if George and I didn’t have these now and again country rendezvous?

Music gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything. —Plato

Smells Like Beef Jerky: A Vacation Personality Profile :)

Posted on November 12, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Who knew the simplest, most easy-going personality type (me) would be the most difficult person to actually go on vacation with? Doesn’t make sense? Let me dissect this for you.

Call me an 80s kid, but when I hear the word “vacation” only two things come to mind: That oh-so-catchy tune by the GoGo’s and images of Chevy Chase and the crew in the comedy classic “National Lampoon’s Vacation.” The former, a pop favorite that reminds us that vacation fixes no amount of heartache and the latter warns that vacation with your family is actually not a vacation after all! Makes one wonder what’s the point of taking a vacation if all it really amounts to is just a temporary distraction from real life (followed by loads and loads of laundry when you return home.) Obviously, I’m not much fun on a vacation….

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some wonderful trips. I’ve been blessed enough to encounter beautiful and scenic places, cities that I’ve always wanted to see and explore, and I’ve visited several inspiring national treasures. I can easily recall periods of true rest and relaxation, opportunities to unwind and forget, as well as experiencing times of remarkable awareness of God and His perfect peace. This is my kind of vacation. Succinct, easy to get to, moderate temperatures, quiet and BUG FREE! Easy, right? Not really.

Over the summer I came across a cute, little quiz in one of those popular ladies’ magazines that promises to decipher one’s vacation personality profile (in 10 questions or less!) Turns out my ideal vacation experience would take place at a spa. This is hilarious became I’m something of a germ-a-phobe which means the idea of being pampered in a public resort, having gloppy and potentially non-hypoallergenic creams applied to my skin by STRANGERS, provided by an industry that is not held to strict enough standards (in my opinion)…makes me extremely nervous. Spa vacation is definitely a no-go.

Similarly, I didn’t think I qualified for the second vacation category the quiz outlined for me either: action-adventure! Those of you who know me understand that I’m a bit of a “mama hen” when it comes to risk taking…as in, I’m the girl who was ALWAYS the designated driver, I accompanied friends to the tattoo parlor in a feeble last-minute attempt to talk them out of getting inked up, and I always carry band aids and Neosporin 🙂 Risk taking like white water rafting and bungee jumping are out. Just about the riskiest, action adventure type thing I’ve ever done was ride the Timber Wolf roller coaster and shortly after I did that I heard on the news that…well, you can guess what happened. Coasters are out.

So what’s a girl to do? The magazine’s vacation personality profile was a bust. As I scanned the other profiles–exotic locale, nature lover, and big city night life–I realized that my own personal vacation preference was a little off the beaten path. I tend to gravitate toward non-touristy, quiet retreats with beautiful scenery and quick access to air conditioning/heat. I want to stay up late, sleep in, read books and magazines and basically operate without an agenda. It would be a bonus if I didn’t have to plan meals, get children up and moving and worry about insects, area crime statistics or crowded airports! It would appear that my (self-discovered) vacation personality profile boils down to one word–ALONE!

What a marvelous piece of awareness! All these years, after coordinating spring break getaways, extra long road trips, and family vacations I have finally discovered what I really want. Too bad this new-found knowledge didn’t occur to me before we took this year’s summer vacation…

The drive was longer than I expected…lake traffic. A lack of towns on this stretch of highway meant bathroom breaks were time sucks. The weather was rainy and muggy. I hate rain. We had no idea what to do when we got there or where to go. We kept running out of tick repellent. I hate fishing. I got drenched by lake water. I hate lake water. Preparing meals was a bigger chore than usual. We traveled with our kids. More rain. Did I mention that I hate rain?

Those are the cold hard facts, people. But isn’t it remarkable how our memories work. I read an article once that used science to prove that the “good ol’ days” were really a coping mechanism that our brain uses as a survival tool. You see we are hardwired to remember the good and sort of overlook the bad. Think of women and childbirth. You get the picture. Nostalgia is funny like that. So let me retell the story of our summer vacation the way I will always remember it…

We saw a part of the country we had never seen before. We had the opportunity to share stories and sing and laugh on the drive. We experienced nature first hand from the darling herd of deer on the side of the road to tiny rabbits and waterfowl all while staying at the sweetest little cabin. We unplugged from the world and spent the evenings playing board games and cards. Sean serenaded us with a marshmallow microphone and Casey befriended the worms we used as bait. We met good and kindhearted people everywhere we went and ran into friends as well. And although it rained and stormed, we were warm, safe and TOGETHER. Plus, the van smelled like beef jerky the entire vacation 🙂

I think it’s fair to say that at this point in my life a spa vacation isn’t going to happen. And as far as action-adventure, well… I think I would use that term to describe my regular everyday life. I’ve experienced the career of my dreams, completed my educational goals, driven half the country by myself (once) and back again (with a 15 month old in tow), met and interviewed celebrities, survived Las Vegas, lived through scary health issues, had 13 different addresses (8 communities and 3 states) in the last 20 years, driven a carload of clowns through the streets of San Francisco, attended numerous concerts and sporting events, and presently stay busy raising my kids (if that isn’t “action-adventure” then I don’t know what is!) A vacation alone, well that will just have to wait.

The dictionary defines vacation as a period of time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation, especially one with pay granted to an employee. A holiday. I would love to know exactly who gets to go on these awesome getaways! Pleasure, rest, relaxation and PAY! On the serious side, it makes me wonder if maybe a vacation is something more. Perhaps, there’s another definition? One that better fits my vacation personality profile? I guess I would have to define vacation as anywhere my loved ones are, where we can draw closer to one another, and recharge our spiritual batteries. I’m not sure where that ideal destination is, but I am positive it’s on a journey where there’s going to be plenty of beef jerky to smell up the van. And ideally the whole thing would still have to occur in a place without bugs.

Laughter is an instant vacation. Milton Berle

What I Learned Today: iPhone Photography is Tricky

Posted on October 26, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

“A good snapshot keeps a moment from running away.” Eudora Welty

I’m not sure if I’m just late to the party or if I’m one of the last of a dying breed to finally succumb to the “dark side” that is the smart phone. Maybe–it’s both. Either way, after years of bashing the thing…I am now the proud owner of an iPhone and I feel like Steve Jobs (who I am not a fan of) is all out belly laughing at me big time!

Let me start by saying, I certainly don’t NEED this phone. I mean, who really does? (Let’s compare convenience with necessity here people.) But after being lost numerous times while trying to find various tournament venues for my son’s teams (Wichita, Kansas City and even little ol’ Newton) I decided enough is enough–I MUST HAVE one of those fancy phones with a map! The when, how, where and why of my phone purchase would take too long to detail and I’m fairly certain that I don’t care enough to rehash the whole thing. What I do know is that last week I managed to get me, my daughter and my folks to an out-of-town wedding without any hiccups and ON TIME. So for that very reason alone, I can’t complain about this overall quality of the purchase.

Photos taken with the camera+ app. While I’m not sure I’m a “selfie” kind of girl, I highly recommend this app.

Here, however, is where things get interesting. iPhones have cameras. You already know that, and so do I…but did you know that they’re not that good? Honestly, how can we go around capturing moments and memories (that are supposed to last a lifetime) with this megapixel inferior, soft focus, low light challenged camera??? As a mother of two of the most (reluctantly) photographed kids on the planet, having a better than decent camera is really important to me. (Here we go again comparing convenience with necessity.) However, the practical side of me argued that carrying my Canon around 24/7 was just unrealistic, remembering to charge it (at home) before taking it out on the road is low on my priority list, and finally I thought to myself–everyone in the world manages to make their iPhone cameras do the job…surely I can make this work. Right?

Operating the iPhone camera was much more difficult than I thought. I’ve been told many times that the iPhone skillfully combines intuitive and ergonomic features that can easily be navigated with one hand. Okay. That’s a lot easier said than done when it comes to taking photos. First of all, you must be super still to avoid that fuzzy, blurry look with this camera. While I consider myself to be a steady shot, my iPhone has another opinion. I’ve tried holding my breath and snapping the photo, but that didn’t work out much better. The soft, focus thing is really an issue for me. And forget about the zoom. No good. And EVERYTHING had these horrible shadows! Look…I know you’re rolling your eyes with all my complaining, but I do know a thing or two about taking pictures. At last, (after sorting through several BAD photos) I had to surrender and decided that maybe I needed some help with this photo thing. Afterall, instagram is a huge success and it’s not like there are thousands of Ansel Adams or Annie Liebovitz types running around with camera phones in this world!

Research. Yes, research. I started with the apple FAQs and worked my way from there combing through reviews and tips. Next, I focused on new media photography articles (there are many) and moved on to blogs about capturing the perfect picture. It wasn’t long before I discovered that I have a lot to learn. In the process, I’ve been asking around…finding out what friends do to capture their perfect moments. I’ve received a lot of great advice and after about a month of iPhone camera ownership, I have managed to snag a few photos that I like. And while I am far, far from being a professional photographer, this is what I’ve learned today: iPhone photography is tricky…but there is help!

1. Take lots of photos and use the auto focus feature (First, you have to find it.) New technology means that we can take a zillion photos and delete all but the perfect one.

2. Lighting is key. I could go on and on about some of the technical aspects of this point, but here’s the easy version. Bright light is not your friend (neither is low light). Say it with me…NATURAL LIGHT! Try to take photos outside (or near a window) during the golden hours (about one hour after sunrise, and one hour before sunset.)

3. Get close and personal. The zoom is a joke on the iPhone camera. If you want close-ups, then get close up.

4. Explore apps. The iPhone is all about apps and so is the camera. There are tons out there. Do your research. Currently, I’m using camera+ and the more I learn about it, the more I like it. Plus, it’s inexpensive…so you really have nothing to lose.

5. Filters are your friends. A friend (and a fellow mother) shared with me how filters have salvaged her photos. Fuzzy or blurry…use a filter. Too dark or too bright…use a filter. Want to set a mood…use a filter. You get the point.

I’m excited about what I’ve learned and I hope to learn more (especially where the flash and white balance are concerned.) I still plan to use my Canon for photos that I want to hang up on the wall, but I’m coming around to this iPhone camera thing. Like I said before, I’m not a professional…so these are not hard and fast rules…merely suggestions. And speaking of suggestions…if you have camera phone wisdom you’d like to share with me–bring it on! I have two (reluctant) kiddos whose lives I need to capture…and I need all the help I can get! They just keep moving…or is it running?

My Own Field of Dreams (and Memories)

Posted on August 19, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

“Baseball…is a place where memory gathers.” — Donald Hall

Another baseball summer has come to an end. And so goes that magical time of year where we schlep our kiddos to and from practice, block out our evenings and weekends for games, purchase sunflower seeds and Gatorade in bulk, spend all of our money at the sporting good stores and plant ourselves for hours on end upon narrow (and often uncomfortable) bleacher seats. Oh, how I LOVED it! There’s just something special about being at the ballpark. And this summer, America’s favorite pastime took on new significance for me as a typical ballgame outing transcended time and space (cue Twilight Zone music here….)

One of the consequences of living hours away from family is that the chorus of cheers and encouragement for your kid come from yourself and the parents of your kid’s friends. I had become accustomed to hearing these familiar voices during my son’s baseball games, but on this particular weekend when my son stepped up to bat I could hear my Mom say, ‘Here you go, Sean,” followed by my Dad, “Pick a good one.” And just like that, I was transported back in time, to ball fields in my home town. Their voices and their presence that afternoon sent me right back to my childhood. You see, I was a “baseball sister,” nestled in the stands…sucking on sunflower seeds, drinking soda and watching my little brothers at bat. My Dad was on the field as coach and we all waited with bated breath for every pitch. In a flashback moment I could see their uniforms and determined looks. I recalled hot and dry, western Kansas evenings and the sports complex where they played little league. I took a deep breath and present day reality set back in.

All afternoon my head (and my heart) bounced between the baseball game at hand and games past. My mind’s eye could clearly see thrilling victories and agonizing defeats–my brothers’ sweaty faces and red, dirt stained white pants. I remembered Dairy Queen celebrations and post game lamentations at the kitchen table. Then I would see my son, in all his determination strike out a monster of a batter (keep in mind this is little league, but this batter was as tall as the umpire!) In the stands, my folks and I reminisced about Gatorade gum (does that still exist?), pre-game rituals and the power of green m&ms. Every caught ball, grounder and close call produced cheers and jeers intermixed with stories from my own childhood…Do you remember when kids wore stirrups as part of their uniforms, when entire teams ran to the parking lot for coolers loaded with soda and snacks, when games were scheduled as late at 9:30pm, and when wearing rally caps was a concept that NEVER had to be explained? Remember when…?

Between games, my Dad and husband talked about strategy, the ins and outs of coaching your own kid and various pitching techniques before heading back to the diamonds. We reminisced about how much baseball caps have changed (do you recall the mesh back, plastic snap variety?) and laughed about the NO SWIMMING ON GAME DAY rule, which still holds true for the new generation of ball players, at least in my family. We compared games of yesterday with my husband’s baseball experience on the West Coast. Before long we found ourselves in line at the concession stand again…purchasing more sunflower seeds, of course. And my niece helped to carefully pick out green m&ms (we might as well test out the “home run” theory) and discreetly handed them off to my son in the dugout (see candy commercial below for explanation), and finally we settled in for another inning of play. New game, but such familiar territory. I was living my own “Field of Dreams.” Like the well-known baseball flick, I was experiencing a mixture of baseball past and present, family togetherness and a desire to hold on to this special summertime moment.

Three games later we were sun-worn and windblown, but smiling. Sean pitched his very best game of the summer. We cheered as he and his teammates celebrated in the dugout. I took in the moment as the most important men in my life collectively grinned from ear to ear and looked so proud! Okay, it’s just baseball and little league baseball at that, but these are the occasions that become some of our best memories. As in life, another baseball game, another victory, another afternoon together is never promised. For now summer baseball will continue to weave itself in and out of my son’s childhood. We have camps to look forward to, the excitement of new teams and teammates, and the joy of taking in the occassional MLB game whenever we can. There’s nothing like building family memories around the ball diamond and dreaming major league dreams all while celebrating little victories at the local Dairy Queen.

“People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.”— Rogers Hornsby

What a Difference 20 Years Does (and Doesn’t) Make….

Posted on July 25, 2013 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Best friends…summer of 1993.

High school looks so much cooler on TV. –unknown

A 20 year high school reunion…sign me up! Couldn’t wait to get there. Loved high school. The opportunity to see familiar faces…not just classmates, but people who I had grown up with and those who helped (in big and small ways) influence and shape my life. Yes, yes–a thousand times yes, I would definitely go!

As the momentum for the big weekend began to build, my mind was flooded with memories. Memories of old friends, teachers, dance team days, newspaper staff, cruising Main Street, school projects and parties. The floodgates really opened up while looking through the school yearbook, hearing songs from the “glory days” and chatting with my best friend about who might attend (do you think he’ll be there…and would she actually show up?) The “do you remembers” tapped into a part of my heart that burst with good times and great adventures. Let’s do this!

Imagine my surprise when the RSVPs started to roll in (thanks to facebook we could see this in real-time) and not everyone clicked “yes.” What???? This was going to be great, this was going to be so much fun! How could you not want to be a part of this? My mind quickly rationalized the obstacles of time, distance and money. The realities of job and family commitments. Okay, I understand that, but if you could attend…wouldn’t you want to? Shouldn’t you want to? As I counted the days and shared my excitement with family and friends their comments and perspectives gave way to a different idea. What if, they suggested, high school wasn’t so great for everyone. That our teen years can be/are/were difficult, lonely and confusing. The possibility that maybe there were people who one couldn’t and wouldn’t want to see (ever again?) That perhaps there were some who just wanted to move on and did so without ever wanting to look back. To be honest, I just had a hard time accepting this…until….

A mere two hours before the first scheduled event, a panic ensued that I had not anticipated. Not really prone to nervousness, I immediately dismissed the incredible dread that was building up in my stomach and the wave of jitters that was creeping in from all sides. And a nagging thought settled on my spirit–did I really want to do this? Followed by a worse thought–COULD I REALLY DO THIS? I remember sitting across from my best friend at our hometown Pizza Hut and NOT being able to eat a thing. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! I hadn’t driven four hours for this. I hadn’t made plans to meet up with old friends only to become a “no-show” myself.

20 Year Reunion for Garden City High School Class of 1993

In my 20 minute panic attack I think I experienced a little bit of what might hold someone back. Doubts that probably mirror some of the teen angst from 20 years ago. Will anyone notice me? Will I be remembered? Followed by, will I be remembered well? Have I done anything of significance in the last two decades? Have I grown and changed in positive ways? Will I foul up anybody’s name? Let me sidebar here to tell you what a good, dear, sweet friend I have. She talked me down from this insane moment of fear. She reminded me how much I had looked forward to this. She convinced me that we would have a wonderful time. We talked. We prayed. We shared. We ate bread sticks and pizza. And (finally) we went. 30+ classmates and spouses took part in the reunion activities. It was fun (and funny at times) to see each other again. Who had changed and who had stayed exactly the same. The hugs abounded and the memories came alive (especially as the class yearbook was passed around!) There was much chatter about where everyone lived now and who was married and with how many kids. I loved meeting my classmates spouses and later at the picnic, seeing their kiddos. It was fun to hear the stories again and remember the good times. How much we still had in common after all these years and how life and time had changed each of us. And yet, throughout the weekend one comment came up time and time again as classmates marveled at how well we all got along NOW. Now? It never occurred to me that we didn’t get along back then. Maybe the conversations didn’t flow as easily in the old days? Maybe we held on a little too tightly to our cliques and groups? Maybe it was just harder to fit in? But, perhaps it was something else. I sort of chalked up any divisiveness and separation to adolescent self-involvement. I know this was true for myself. I don’t really remember not getting along with anyone, but I do know that I was completely absorbed with my own friends and interests. My world was small then and in order for it to make sense, I’ll admit I approached it with teenage tunnel vision. And doesn’t it make sense that in our early days we would gravitate toward those whose worlds most resembled our own? It’s not an excuse, it was just a consequence of immaturity. And I think this is why reunions have the potential to become so much more.

Today, twenty years later we probably have a lot more in common than ever before. Sure we grew up in the same town and our families’ lives were often intertwined, but that may have been the extent of it. Now we can relate to each other on so many new levels like jobs and careers, marriage and relationships, pregnancy and parenthood, divorce, illness, faith and every other degree of success and loss imaginable. We’ve matured and with that we’ve grown… allowing circles to open up and boundaries to blur. In a strange way, it might actually be possible for us to grow closer 20 years after graduation!

A four-hour car ride home makes for a great time of contemplation. I smiled to myself as various conversations replayed in my head. I thought of those who had moved on with great success knowing how hard they worked…their positive attitudes and energy making my heart soar. I prayed for those who had braved great and difficult challenges and who appeared to come out stronger for it. And somewhere on the wide open prairie, the song “Bruises” by Train came on the radio. Bruises of triumph and pain. Bruises that remind us that we’re all human, imperfect and in the same boat. Its chorus reminds us that all these things “make for better conversation, loses the vibe that separates, it’s good to let you in again, you’re not alone in how you’ve been….” It was the perfect ending to a reunion weekend, and guess what? I can’t wait to do it all over again!

hymningandhaing

balancing faith, family & a few dozen other things on the yellow brick road

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