Stress: Redefinitions

You know you've been there. I've been there. I've seen loved ones there. It plain sucks. It's stress and it just makes things tough. Life just isn't right at that point. But what is it? Really? This reminds me of a good line from a favored movie, "Well that's just, that's the stress talking, Dude."

I've recently rethought what stress is after reading and researching things about what career direction I should go in. One book, has been helpful, namely, Passion and Purpose: how to identify and leverage the powerful patterns that shape your work/life by Marlys Hanson with Merle Hanson (cf. their website at http://www.motivationalpattern.com/; FYI always use DealOz.com for your online book shopping... way better than Amazon in my opinion). Their book is a step by step guide in identifying your motivated abilities pattern that is based on what you enjoy doing and believe you do well at. Some have called it giftedness (http://www.thegiftednesscenter.com/) but giftedness seems to combine two things together. Your passions/motivated abilities, in my opinion is probably one of the three circles on a Venn diagram that would help you to narrow down what you should do for a career. The other two circles may be to consider your aptitudes/natural abilities (cf. http://www.aimstesting.org/) and spiritual gift or gifts (cf. 1 Cor 12; Eph 4; Rom 12; 1 Peter 4).

This is where stress comes in. I'm sure the most common definition is employed and correct in many contexts. But maybe we need to think about redefining it a bit. Hanson and Hanson writes thus:

Khalsa'a definition of stress as anything that causes us to believe that we cannot perform that which is expected of us describes quite precisely the situation of a person in a job or role that is not aligned with his/her innate abilities. Even if we are ABLE to perform the task, if we do not find the activity fulfilling to perform, it is difficult to SUSTAIN our performance without chronic stress (p 26).

Did you notice that? Stress is not doing what we were created to do. It is hard to describe what exactly we each are motivated to do, have the ability to do it well, and spiritually gifted to do so. I doubt whether one has to have a perfect match to alleviate stress, but a better match will cause less stress on the career front.

All my life I've wanted nothing more than to enjoy my job and make enough money to live on. I'll work 1/3 of my life. If I am going to do something for that much time I want to enjoy it more often than not. Will the probability be higher that I enjoy a job that uses my innate motivations, aptitudes, and spiritual gifts? I hope so. Stress is job mismatch. Stress is facing life situations that are not in line with your passions and purposes and abilities. Those innate passions, if neglected is downright dangerous if you ask me. I know a man who was on the verge of suicide due to work related stressors. I don't want to make that mistake.

Tomorrow I interview for the Dallas Police Department. If I am asked, "What was your most stressful moment on a job?" I am going to redefine stress for them. I'm going to report that any job that does not employ my motivations and aptitudes will be stressful to me, including the totality of my current job.

Thought this response might be beneficial for you to consider before your next interview. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

[Sept 30th Update] I passed the interview. Now to background investigators.

What do I have in common with this?

I work in a business district in Farmer's Branch Texas. One of the adjacent buildings to my company is a shop that repairs Volkswagens. Occasionally you'll see some new cars and old cars. However, there is one vehicle that has been parked out back for a week or so now that just screams for your attention (apparently advertising for Freeb!rds World Burritos):

Your eyes do not deceive you. That really is the Statue of Liberty doing her thing, which happens to be joy riding a motorcycle and "There's a beverage here!"
Could this be my mother-in-law's boyfriend's (FYI his name is Peter and my mother-in-law's name is Victoria... you really can't make this up) former VW Bus? He has recently stopped using it.... and I wonder if he's ok with it being used for commercial purposes?

Now that the The State Fair of Texas (a.k.a "the State Gyp" as I like to refer to it) is open, maybe Crazy Liberty will make an appearance and give Big Tex a run for his money! There's a match made in heaven!

Speaking of matches made in heaven, I just want to give a big thanks to the one who hooked my wife and I up... permanently. It's been a great 3.5 years of marriage and 5 years of kissing and hand holding... and we all know what hand holding leads to don't we?

This reminds me of the details of the story I was trying to recall to my wife yesterday: Shortly after becoming more official in our relationship toward one another, Victoria and I went to the State Fair of Texas. Soon after we entered the Fair Grounds holding hands, I ran into one of my good friends, Steve Brown, and his new wife Jennifer. Steve and Jen were so stunned when we met them. I distinctly remember their jaws dropping and their eyes widening. They had no idea I had begun to date Victoria.

I met with Steve and some other guys for a few years at church and for a weekly breakfast prior to this encounter at the State Fair. After greeting one another, the story goes, Jennifer verbally elbowed Steve and asked why he had not told her I was dating. Steve was totally caught off guard too. He didn't know about us. Jennifer asked him, "Don't you guys talk about these kinds of things at breakfast?"

The answer is, we didn't talk about it. We had other topics of discussion. But dating was not one of them over the usual homemade waffles. Last night I was trying to recount the story but totally forgot most details. Thanks Freebird VW Bus for helping me remember it.

And for you ladies who wonder, we guys don't talk about much when we play poker either.

Wish me luck at the table tonight!

"Spa Pedicure"

Sitting here feeling a bit traumatized by the whole experience, I'm really not sure where to begin. To preface, I'll say I'm 36 weeks pregnant and thought it would be a great idea to get a nice relaxing pedicure before the big day. Since none of my shoes currently fit my ever expanding feet, I've resorted to full time flip flop wear, and have noticed in the past couple weeks some "rough" spots on my feet. I usually really like my feet. They are actually one feature on my body that I really do like, and I've already had to throw my foot vanity by the wayside as I see them slowly swell, get a bit calloused, and change shape as the months get closer to my due date. Hence the need for a pedicure. Plus, who doesn't want to deliver their baby with freshly painted toenails for all to see? After all, isn't just about everyone going to be in that vicinity and need something, anything, pretty to look at?

If you've read my past posts, I think I mentioned something or other about being a bit tight when it comes to money. Thus it would suffice that I would search out a "lower cost" option for said pedicure. I looked at a number of beauty schools and found one I thought looked professional enough, and low and behold - full spa pedicure $13. Can't beat that, right? Well,....come with me while I take you on my pedicure journey, and you can judge for yourself.

I show up at 9am, right on time for my appointment. I look around the waiting area and see about ten other women waiting in the same lobby for their appointment. I'm wondering to myself if they have appointments or are walk-ins, and after about fifteen minutes, ask the girl next to me if she has an appointment and how long she normally waits. She tells me, "oh, yeah, I come here about twice a month and sometimes have to wait up to a half hour even with an appointment." Wondering why she still comes twice a month with that answer, I wait five more minutes before my cosmotology wonder, Mirakle, (yeah, miracle with a "k") comes to take me to the back for my pedicure. Lest I forget her name at any point during my "spa pedicure" experience, it is conveniently tattoo'd on her right outer bicep, about four inches by three inches, above an even larger tattoo of a diamond.

We wind through the sea of cosmotology students trying out hair extensions, colorings, and their flat iron skills before making our way to a little plastic chair in the corner, a plastic "foot bath" sitting on the floor in front of the chair, and what looks like the kind of bench a shoe-fitter uses at a shoe store to help you try on shoes, sitting in front of the "foot bath". I take a moment and comtemplate sitting down or turning right around and walking back out the front door. Then I think, well, everyone has to start somewhere, and maybe her her name will come to play and I'll receive a fantastic pedicure, and all would have been lost if I would have prejudged this spa experience.

I try to make myself comfortable in the plastic chair and can't help but notice the soothing musicality of George Michael, I Want Your Sex, booming through the speakers. As I sit down and start to dip my feet into the bubbling murkiness, I see a long black hair floating half in the water and half draped over the edge of the plastic bath. I point it out to her and she removes it with her (I kid you not) 3" nails, saying, "oh, I'm so sorry, there's just hair everywhere around here". I look to the side of the shoe-fitter/pedicurist bench and see an open container of what seems to be pedicure tools. I see some nail files, random cotton balls, what looks like lotion, and maybe a pumice stone. She has me put my feet in the water and then says she'll be right back. Mirakle returns about five minutes later with a stack of almost thread bare, stained towels that could pass as dish towels from the local Taco Bell. I try to ignore the dark stains and convince myself that they are indeed clean (as is the foot bath water, as is the foot bath water, as is the foot bath water - if I keep saying it it will be true), just stained from all the practice the students have had to perfect their skills at cosmotology central.

She wipes off my feet, files down my toe nails (I think that's what she was doing), and then squirts some cuticle cream on my toes. Not rubbing in the cream, she takes out one of her "tools" (and at this point I'm truly praying it's from her sterilized kit and not just used to practice on one of her fellow students - assuming at this point that she has at least practiced on a fellow student, but starting to accept that my odds aren't the best) and pushes back my cuticles. After each application of lotion or cream or filing, has me put my feet back into the "bath". After this brief treatment, she then asks me what color polish I'd like. I ask her, well, I thought I signed up for the "spa pedicure" rather than just the regular pedicure, where there is supposed to be exfoliant sea salts involved. She says, "oh, yeah, ok....", looks to her fellow student next to her with a blank look, and said fellow student then directs her to go get the exfoliant and hot towels. Mirakle comes back another five minutes later with a little thimble sized plastic container with some shiny blue cream inside and a couple bundles which look like foil wrapped burritos. She empties half of the thimble into her hands and starts to spread the blue cream over my legs for about 20 seconds, her armful of bracelets gettting caught by my feet with each rubbing of the cream and pinching my ankles. She then unwraps the foil burrito to expose yet another warm stained dishtowel in which she wraps my pinched, blue cream drenched foot.

She "dries" off my legs and feet and then shows me the colors I have to choose from for the polish. I ask her if they sand down the callouses before they polish the feet, since one of the main reasons I wanted a pedicure was to get my feet back to their soft pretty selves. She said no they don't, due to diabetes. Excuse me? Yes, diabetes - they can't use metal on feet because it could cause infection to someone with diabetes. One man had a hangnail, she says, and right there in the salon (right where I was sitting actually), had a stroke because of infection. I don't even ask anymore questions and go with the red nail polish.

This should have been the point where a huge red flag went up in my mind. Based on my experience up to this point, I should NOT have chosen the brightest color in the box, even if I wanted something bright, because I never wear anything very bright. NOT the time to be adventurous.

Mirakle pushes aside the shoe-fitter bench she's been sitting on, tugs a the waist of her jeans, and sits on the floor in front of me, straddling my feet. I am actually very grateful at this point that for the first time I can't see what she's doing. I know she finished the first foot because she looks up at me with a semi-scared/regretful expression on her face and says, "Don't worry, I'll fix it." Yeah, um, don't worry......because up to this point I've been sooooo not worried. She finally finishes all three coats on both feet, ensuring that I will in no way be able to chip off or remove any part of this polish on this side of heaven, and asks if I want to sit a while to let them dry. As I hear Ace of Base serinading me in the background, I make a quick decision to let them dry as I walk out the door.......as fast as humanly possible. I pay my $13, and as I make my way down to my car, I decide if I should go to the little Vietnamese nail studio down the street from where I live to "fix" this disaster, or if I should go home, take pictures, and blog about it first, so others can both hopefully get a laugh out of, and also learn from my unfortunate experience.

In case you don't believe my experience, I'm attaching a photo for proof. And what you see on the big and fourth toes are not my toes bleeding, that's just Mirakle's little touch of sweetness to the whole "spa pedicure" experience.

Soda Machine Gifts

This morning I did not drink my one cup of coffee. It is boring at work and I need to try to stay awake so I decided to give the affordable soda machine a visit. It is a $.50 machine. I reached into my wallet and pulled a dollar bill out. I saw a note on the machine that said someone in customer service got a half empty can of soda recently and was asking the soda machine man (whoever he is) for their money back. Hmmm.... should I gamble or not?

Not only that, I have within the past couple weeks come to the machine with a dollar bill and the machine not even attempt to pull it in. Finally, the machine took my dollar bill! Lucky me. Dr. Pepper can is cold and full. Nice. Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching! Nice. Got two quarters back just like you're supposed to.

Went to glance at the quarters since they felt new and behold 2 new state quarters I haven't seen yet! Score. After leaving the darkened storage room where the trusty soda machine works I entered back into my work area trying to figure out the states.

"Did my eyes decieve me?" Blink. Blink. "Are you kidding me?... For real?"

There they were. One quarter for Guam and one quarter for Puerto Rico! The Guam one sorta looked like Florida for a second.


Now I'm not all into civics and public governance nor am I a numatist by any means but I had to wonder if those territories are states now. Imagine: I put a dollar bill into the soda machine and walaaaa the United States has two more states!

I don't mind what images get put on quarters. I just wonder when the Canada and Mexico quarters are coming out?

There are two things to remember in this adventure: (1) I use credit cards way too often to notice that these two new quarters have been out an entire 9, almost 10 months already. They read 2009. (2) If your soda machine gives you a Delaware quarter where the horse has no tail... keep it. Story: Delaware was one of the first state quarters issued (it seems almost a decade ago). I remember looking at one I had. It looked funny to me at first. Then I realized why. The horse didn't have a flippin' tail. I showed my brother Andy. We went on our merry way. Within the week after finding that quarter odd I heard on the news that there was an error on a batch of Delaware quarters that got released to the public and that if someone found one it was worth $500. Crazy. I looked all over the house to try and find that thing to no avail. Not a good adventure. Today, I think, made up for that loss. I paid a dollar into a soda machine, got a Dr. Pepper (est. 1885), and the USA got two new states. Not bad.... not bad at all.

[September 26 edit add on] Let's make it three things to remember instead of two. (3) I think I know of a better "soda machine" with better gifts than this one at work.

The Polygraph Lies?

I, Pete, have been in the process of applying to the Dallas Police Department. On Monday I passed the Civil Service exam and did pre-polygraph paperwork. Yesterday I passed the physical test (sit ups, push ups, 300m dash, and 1.5 mile run) in the rain. I then proceeded to the place that administers the polygraph test.

The polygraph is an interesting thing. Before being hooked up to its censors you basically tell all. It's like the world's fastest date for men. For women it is probably comparable to your OB GYN. For guys, the "cough test" isn't so bad. Telling all, on the other hand, is probably much more revealing to us. We love our reputation. Am I wrong? I told that paperwork stuff even my mom doesn't know. The Polygraph should be renamed "The fastest date on earth."

All the polygraph does, in my opinion, is sense any electrical impulse that may or may not occur after your "yes" or "no" response to the examiner's question which is assumed to be either normal or not normal reaction to your answer. You sit completely still (at least the chair was comfortable). You stare straight ahead or close your eyes. I stared straight ahead and my vision began to blur. You also get all the questions asked to you twice. Plus you are tested twice each time what the sensors sense and what the examiner himself/herself detects.

I, for one, was probably too honest with my pre-polygraph paperwork. Better to be as up front as possible. I'm not trying to hide anything nor do I have anything really of concern to hide. Tell all or else fail by even thinking about anything you remember during the test. Clear conscious as best as possible. One part that was pretty easy to fill out on the pre-polygraph information forms is the drug use section. I have never even tried drugs. Pretty remarkable and unbelievable in today's world I imagine... and was already questioned about it at the Dallas Police Department. It just isn't believable. But it is true. I have never even tried pot. I always wanted to be a baseball player growing up and didn't want to mess up the chances. I'm not here to brag about this but it is pertinent to the polygraph story.

So I do the polygraph exam. All it tries to indicate is if you've been honest or lied on your answers. You either pass or fail. The examiner passed me. After the exam he says, "Were there any questions that bothered you more than others?" I said, "No... maybe the one about my work history... I just had to swallow on that question both times... not sure why." He responded, "Any other questions." "Nope." "Well, one of the two times I asked you about drugs something was indicated." I quipped, "I don't remember it bothering me. I never tried drugs since I always wanted to be a baseball player growing up." The examiner still was unsure of what happened after I answered. He asked if I had any family members who had done drugs. I said I did and that ended the conversation. I actually remember thinking during the test after responding, "I hope they believe me because it seems so unbelievable that someone has never done drugs."

It is strange what a polygraph can or can't achieve. If you think about it, it wasn't there my whole life watching me. It probably never even touched Baltimore, MD or Dubuque, IA. All it could do was notice any reactions after the responses I gave to the questions I was asked... and it squeezed my arm. Although, now that I think of it, there has been someone who has seen all I've done and knows if the polygraph results are true or not.

P.S. Hopefully I get into the Police Dept so I can bring more adventures to this blog.

Oh, the HUNGER!!

I recently told Peter that we're going to have to take note to put money aside for about six weeks in the first trimester and also for six weeks prior to having the baby. The reason - hunger! Questionable crazy hunger in the beginning and then switches to ravenous hunger at the end. In the first trimester I had the problem of not being able to bring my lunch to work because what sounded good in the morning made me want to hurl by noon that day. I could only manage to eat whatever sounded appealing to me at that very moment. At this point in the pregnancy I have moments where nothing seems to satisfy me, or better yet, no amount of food will satisfy. For example, this morning, had my honey nut shredded wheat (usually gets me to about 10am). 10am hits, hunger!! I try to stave it off with my celery and peanut butter....nothing....add a cup of grapes.....nothing.....add to that two whole wheat fig bars.....yup, you guessed it, it's as if I hadn't eaten anything at all. Then I think I can hear the baby saying, "Woman, are you crazy?! You call that food? FEED ME!!!" So, I decided that I'd rather answer the call of this little person with a hunger vengence in my womb with something substantial, than torture it with the idea of food I have planned for lunch, which is a microwave meal. So, I head down to the food court and order a cheesesteak sub with fries, and oh my goodness, is it wonderful! Now, a half hour later, I can imagine this little one all kicked back dozing off with a peaceful smile on its face. And it has the hiccups.

I normally am pretty tight with money and like to spend as little as possible, but I think this is the Lord's way of making me relax a little and continue to trust him with his provision and abundant blessing in our lives. Because, after all, I hear it only gets worse with breastfeeding.

On a side note, we had another sonogram yesterday and all looks well with the little one. I'm measuring about a week and a half small, but considering everyone on my mom's side of the family is barely pushing 5'2", I figure we're okay. The baby is around five pounds and all the fluid levels look good. We've got about four weeks left!!

The birth of a blog and a baby

This is my first attempt at blogging and I figured now is a good time to get going. I'm 34 weeks pregnant, and what better way to log all my late pregnancy/early parenting experiences. So, it's mainly for my benefit than for that of anyone else, because quite frankly, I don't anticipate a whole plethora of followers.

As far as pregnancy goes, this has been a very good one. Other than six weeks or so of nauseated hell - oh my goodness, I really wish I could throw up and I never want to throw up at any other time in my life all day every day for six weeks feeling - it has been wonderful. I've been enjoying each new stage and trimester and find it amazing the way the Lord orchestrates it all to experience the fullness of the blessing that it is. There were a few freak out moments though, such as the realization that there is no "undoing" this - not that I would have EVER wanted to, it was just the idea that I couldn't. It was a feeling of complete lack of control and I just had to work through it. Once I did, allow myself to work through it and not ignore it or try to get around it, I felt so much more accepting of what IS. I remember at the beginning feeling like time was moving so slowly, and all the anxieties of the first trimester - not knowing if what I was feeling - this tinge or that cramp - was normal and just praying all was going okay. Then slowly getting through that stage and accepting the small changes and adjustments as they come. I have to say it is such a blessing that the whole process takes nine months, because if I just woke up one day like this, I think I would completely lose my mind. Now, the latest is the fact that none of my shoes, other than those blessed flip flops, fit my ever swelling feet. But, with all those changes and adjustments, I have to say I truly am enjoying every moment. I absolutely love each moment I get a new kick or movement or sweeping feeling of some limb or another across my belly. The miracle that this little one is amazes me every single day. The fact that it has grown out of something that was microscopic to this little being that breathes and beats and kicks and moves and has been perfectly created by the Lord - it is so amazing to me. As much as I can't wait to see this little face, I wouldn't want to miss one moment of this time in my life. Just as the birth is made for a specific time and purpose, each week leading up to it is just as special. I am so thankful to the Lord for such a blessing and for loving us in such a way that we can share in his creation in this way.

I don't know if it's the pregnancy or just where we are in our lives and marriage and walk with the Lord, but something special has happened these past nine months in my marriage as well. My heart has swelled for my husband so much. I am so thankful to the Lord each day for giving me such a loving, compassionate, considerate husband. I am so grateful we don't have to DO anything to deserve the Lord's love, that he just gives it freely to his children because that's just who he is, because I know there's nothing I could ever do to deserve such a wonderful partner in my life. He amazed me during those six weeks of nausea when I couldn't step foot into the kitchen, let alone smell anything stronger than tap water without wanting to puke. He never once complained or balked about not getting a home cooked meal, even though he endured night after night of frozen pizza and chicken nuggets. (For those of you who don't know me, I do LOVE to cook for my husband and do it most nights of the week - it is a blessing to me to know I can provide that gift for him each day and a blessing to him to be able to just come home and relax to a home cooked meal.) I think during that time it was even harder for me not to be able to give it to him than it was for him not getting it (after all, he didn't have to eat as many veggies for six weeks or so :). He pitched in even more than usual (which is a LOT) with housework or groceries when I've been just too worn out to do anything at all. He readily rubs my feet, back, or hips the moment I mention they are hurting without ever complaining or even me having to ask him twice. He's endured many a hormone filled break-down, sitting with me and lovingly listening to my concerns without interrupting or trying to "fix" it, as desperately as I know he wanted to, but just loving me and gently helping me through it by being there for me with a big hug and a listening ear. I just think of all these things and so much more and I know I not only have a wonderful husband, but that he'll be a fantastic father to our children. I can't wait to see him with them and know how much he'll love them and encourage them, with the same godly leadership he shows in our marriage, throughout their lives.

We still have much to do to prepare for this little life to join ours, but as much as we cannot possibly get everything done in the physical sense to prepare, we also can't possibly ever be prepared enough emotionally or spiritually to be ready for all that comes with this new little life. I am left to trust the Lord and all the prayers for so many years now that I've lifted up to him regarding our children and our role as parents for our future family. In Him I am lacking nothing. In Him I find my strength and peace. In Him I will get through sleepless nights and feedings. In Him I will learn patience, compassion, selflessness, and self control. In Him I will learn to be more like Christ every day through this new adventure. I love my Lord and I am so thankful for all the ways he leads me.