Milestones

Jer proposing to me on March 30th 2009 

Milestones. Life is made up of many of them. I remember when I first understood the concept. I was sitting in the back of my family's old blue and white mini van we cruised around in the 90's. My family had spent the day exploring the city of San Francisco with my Grandma and Grandpa who were natives to the area. "So you will be ten next month, Shannon," my Grandma Talyor said to me as she turned to face me in the back of the car. She always was and is so good at coming down to my level and treating me with respect. "You know, that is a milestone in your life." I remember feeling excited, smiling ear to ear in the dark van with the faint glow of the dome light. I remember looking out the window and feeling important, I was almost to a milestone.

Little did I know that soon my life would be bombarded with milestones. I turned ten, then I became a teenager, was sweet sixteen, graduated high school, started college, turned 21, got engaged, graduated college, said "I do," became a mom... It keeps going, each one becoming a little more exciting.  So now I look back at my 25 years of life and see a road of beautiful milestones.

Today I had been thinking about milestones, since March 30th is a day to celebrate a milestone and to make one. On March 30th, 2009, Jeremiah Whitten got down on one knee to propose marriage to me in the chapel my grandparents were married in 65 years prior. I can't believe it has been three years since that beautiful day. Now milestones are a part of everyday life at the Whitten house. Today my son Lee turned 9 months old. His toothy smile and active lifestyle reminds me that my little boy is making the transition from an infant to a toddler.

I love remembering to celebrate and create our milestones. To reflect on what we have accomplished, and to look forward to the next great milestones that will define our lives and shape our experiences.  Each one represents a beautiful aspect of life that makes up who we are and where we are going. We looked back at the path and see all the points and how they align--how the Lord used those places to make us into the person we are now.  In the words of the late Steve Jobs, "You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards."

Milestones show where you have been,
and help shape who you will be.
Celebrate and remember them.

Lee at 9 months

In Sickness and in Health..

I am blessed. Yesterday Jer and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary. Unfortunately, the day was a little tainted by the fact I had suffered from food poisoning the night before. So you can imagine my disappointment when all of Jer's "secret planning" would have to be postponed as I rested all day. Despite the fact that my day was full of naps and watching TV I felt blessed. Blessed to have a husband, after saying "I do" two years ago, still takes such good care of me in sickness. It may seem simple, but it is romantic to me. It is romantic that in my less than glamrous state my husband spent his spring breaking caring for me and our son with such love and tenderness and making me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. I am blessed by an amazing man who does the large romantic guestures as well as nursing me back to health. I didn't think when standing up in front of all our friends at the alter that I would be suffering from food posioning two years later (not sure if anyone in the world has ever thought that). Obviously, this is such a small health issue, but it warms my heart that my husband's love and devotion is constant in every aspect of our marriage. It wasn't the romantic evening Jer had planned, but what is a marriage to only be in love in those moments? The love and joy Jer brings to every aspect of our life together is truly beautiful. The wedding day is gone, the flowers have died, the food has been eaten, the guests have left, the pictures remind us of what happened, but Jer's unconditional love is what has lasted. And that is why I am blessed.

Patterns of Habit vs. Change

I used to hate change, the thought of it would put my stomach in knots. Now I have a new philosophy: change is good. In fact, sometimes I feel like it is down right necessary for survival. I watch myself slowly drawn into life's montage of habits; days passing without my conscious knowledge. Of course, one could argue this would be attributed to the fact that I am a mother of an 8 month old bouncing boy. My brain is simply in "survival mode," creating patterns is a part of the criteria of motherhood. Wake up, feed the baby, change him, play with him, put him down for a nap, try to clean the house while he is sleeping, check facebook, Jer comes home, try to connect, make dinner, put the baby to bed, watch tv, go to sleep. Did I mention I have become a creature of habit? In fact, at times, my brain doesn't even realize I have completed this finely tuned regiment until I am head down in my pillow. The day is over.

Then there is the shock, that is the only way to get out of a regiment. My Papa died. Yes, death does it to you. In that moment when you are sitting on the germ filled hospital ground, your tears puddled around you. In those moments you have clarity, you realize "Yes we all die and yes we all only live once." And you can't help but embrace change- it becomes your new best friend because it makes you feel alive. Feeling truly alive becomes your obsession when you are face to face with death.

So what did I do? I embraced change. In one frantic day I went vegetarian, stored my microwave in the garage, officially quit my business, decided to run a 5K, and bought  all new furniture. I embraced change. It made me feel alive.  Maybe change is simply my coping mechanism for my grief, but it makes my brain light up and think consciously of each moment. In those moments I feel alive, released from the bondage of routine. In that moment I am free of my habits and the doors open up for new experiences; I am living life to its fullest. So change, who used to be my most dreaded enemy has now become my close friend. Ironic.