here goes nothing.

I've been thinking a lot about how I would start this post, and I really have no idea how. So here goes nothing...

This summer was not what I expected at all. I guess I didn't really know what to expect in the first place, but it was way different than I could have imagined. I won't go into details, but it was a challenge from the very beginning. When I got there I had this picture in my mind that it was going to be great because it was my second year, and I knew how everything worked. But it turned out to be the opposite.

Yes, I had some really great times. Yes, I made memories that will last me a life time. Yes, I learned things about myself that I didn't know before. And I wouldn't know those things had I not gone through everything I went through this summer.

My job description for the summer was "counselor and day camp leader". I led day camp the first two weeks and counseled a grand total of five days. What did I do the remainder of the summer? Maintenance, dishes, nightwatch, lifeguarding, hosting. Was it my choice? No. Did I enjoy it? Rarely. Did I struggle more than half of the remaining 6 weeks? You betcha! Did I consider flying home early on more than one occasion? Oh yeah!

Things happened in Minnesota that I wish hadn't. Tough, life things, that made me have to hold my head up high, even when I really didn't want to.

Life happened in Minnesota, and I honestly couldn't be more grateful that it did. I had to take a step back and really look at my life from the outside in, and determine who I really was. Really figure it out. Dig deep down inside myself, and sort things out that happened in my life when I was a really little girl, all the way up to my 21 year old self.

So, I guess you could say it was a time of self-discovery. Realizing that I was stronger than I ever thought possible. If I was put in the same situation 2 years ago, I wouldn't have been able to endure it. I would have given up and gone home. What would I have learned if I had done that? Nothing. I'm not glad that it happened, but I am grateful. I also learned that I can do things on my own. Not without God of course, but without my mom.

Since being home and reflecting on the summer, I realized that this summer was a time when God came in and took something hard to endure, and just turned it around for His glory. Through the things that I learned about myself over the summer, I know I'm completely different than when I left in May. In more ways than one...

This doesn't mean that I'm done learning, though. This event could very well be something that I could learn from for the rest of my life, and if that's the case, I'd love to keep learning!

how i'm feeling.

I've been trying to remember I felt around this time last year.
One week before I left home.
I can't remember, though.

I guess I thought leaving home for a few months a second time would be easier, but honestly, I might be just as scared as I was the first time. When I found out that I was going back I thought the whole thing would be a piece of cake. Wrong! I've been trying to mentally prepare myself for the past month or so. Reminding myself of the extreme exhaustion that takes place at camp, the frustration, the thing that aren't so glamorous about the job, so it doesn't come as a shock to me when I get there. I remember how much effort it took to walk up those stairs at the end of the summer. I remember the muscles that hurt in places I didn't even know I had muscles! I remember the bruises that I was covered in from head to toe. The campers that test you in every way imaginable. I remember the things that are less glamorous.

But I also remember the more glamorous side of the job, too.
(Yeah, right...camp is glamorous? ;-)

The lives that you can see being changed right before your eyes. The laughter that you share with your fellow counselors. Experiencing a campers first time away from home with them. Receiving letters from home, and knowing that people are caring about and thinking of you. Watching your cabin become one for a week, and watching your campers look out for each other. When a camper gets 'it'. The excitement on the campers faces when they arrive at camp on Sunday. The excitement on your face when they leave on Friday. (Not to be confused with unglamorousness.) Weekends of rest, laughter and adventure. Getting to live life in such a beautiful place. The starry nights. The sound of the lake as you walk across camp. The quietness of it all in the morning. The sunset over the lake every night and how it's like a canvas.

I suppose I have more to look forward to than to fear, and I know it's where I'm supposed to be, but it's always nice to be reminded that you can't get too comfortable. You can't take things for granted, and you should never rely on yourself.

I know this summer won't be the same as last. It will be its own in its own unique way. Because of that, I know that I will learn new things from the trials and triumphs I go through, the people I meet, and the things I experience. I'm so grateful that I get to embark on this good adventure one last time, but I'm also grateful that I have one more week left at home. I will cherish and treasure every second of my time here, and I will get around to packing. Eventually...

I see people every day who work hard and do everything they need to get done. I often wonder if everyone out in the world is like that. Like they've got all of their stuff together. It doesn't take long for me to realize that's not true...

Meet...me.

(Hi there!) 

When most people see me walking around at my college campus, they see me with my books falling out of my arms or my bag spilling over with them. The picture you would see of one of those nerdy types who's always pushing up their glasses. 

I was recently told by a classmate that I was an over achiever. Oh, if he only knew...


Because there's this other Kaitlyn who does things like this...

(Photo taken while attempting to write an essay.)

It might be my biggest downfall.
You're probably wondering what exactly that is...right? 

Well, I procrastinate. A LOT. I sit around and do nothing hoping that maybe, just maybe, my homework and other duties will miraculously be done when I turn around. Only to have the work pile and the messes pile up around me. 

This is something I've struggled with ever since I was young. I remember when I was in elementary school, I would go out and play with my friends instead of doing my homework, which later turned into bad grades, getting grounded, and not being able to go to ballet practice. 

Today I am distracted by other things. Mostly the internet, which is the stupidest thing ever. My procrastination doesn't necessarily lead to bad grades (because I know the consequences weigh heavier now if I don't get my work done before the next class), but it sure does lead to chaos and unwanted stress around me.

As I've mentioned a couple of times on this handy dandy blog, the hip-hop dance team I'm a part of is reading through the bible together this year. We have certain verses to read every day of the week and we discuss them at our next practice. For the past two weeks it's been a huge struggle trying to juggle my homework, duties around my house, and keeping up with my verses. It was a lot, and I shut down. I sat there last Thursday night with the team and I had only read one day for that week. ONE DAY! How the heck is that even cool? Not only is it not cool, but I wasn't being spiritually fed for the whole week. 

More embarrassingly, the only thing i had to show for it was excuse on top of excuse.I felt like I was back in the 4th grade scrounging around for some sort of explanation that I wasn't going to find. 

I can hear my mom saying it now "Take responsibility for your own actions, Kaitlyn." 

(My mom's words to me from when I was younger haunt me every day now, but that's another story for a different day.)

I left practice last Thursday with a plan of attack. A plan of action. Whatever you want to call it. I prefer attack. It sounds more...aggressive. Like I'm really going to get things done around here.

Friday morning I made a list. Very similar to the one above, but without the "sit and wait until it gets itself done...". I don't want to walk back into dance practice on Thursday night unprepared. I want to be able to walk in there and be able to raise my hand when asked if I did all of my reading and exercising for the week. And dang it...

I will!

Another post will be coming shortly that includes my plan of attack. 

Stay tuned!

Do you struggle with distractions? How do you get rid of them? 

About a week and a half ago I was at my church for a fundraiser that was being put on for the dance team I'm a part of. I was sitting around in a circle with a couple of my fellow dance team members and the youth pastor of my church - that was when it happened - I was told that I'm a complex person. My face probably contorted into something strange because, honestly, I was shocked. I asked what they meant. My friend Jacqui said "Well, sometimes you're just hard to read. I can't necessarily figure out what your thinking or feeling most of the time." Shocker...again! I had been told when I was a little girl that I was sensitive and always wore my emotions on my sleeve. Then Kevin, the youth pastor, joined in on the conversation (first, I must say, that Kevin and I got off to a rocky start, so I understand where he's coming from). He said "When you walk into church on Sunday mornings I'm unsure of how to tell you hello. I'm not sure if it's okay for me to say 'Hi' excitedly or calmly come up to you and tell you 'Hello'." Kevin continued on and said "When I say hi to most people I know what kind of reaction I'll receive, but with it's difficult to determine what your reaction will be."

Later that evening I had a conversation with my good friend, Gina, who lives in Michigan. I always find that I have meaningful and insightful conversations with her, so I brought up the whole situation to her. We've hung out on a number of occasions, she's a psych major, and I figured she would be a good person to ask. While we were talking I realized that she knows me really well. Maybe even better than I know myself. Or maybe she's just really good at studying and reading people. Either way...I liked and disliked what she said. Because truth was staring me dead in the face. She said "You're a deep thinker, and when someone is a deep thinker that automatically means they are a complex person." Okay...that's cool. Maybe being complex isn't so bad. "You're introverted, which makes you shy, but when you're really comfortable with the people you're with and your surroundings, your personality really shines. You're the type of person that people want to get to know." Awesome. I like that. So she continues on, "When you're uncomfortable in a situation it's obvious because you don't know what to do." So true...but..uhm...ouch? I told Gina " I think the reason why I'm like this is because of things that happened to me in my past." (Sidenote: Gina and I have similar family backgrounds.) She said "I wouldn't doubt it. People who have been hurt in the past tend to put their guard up as a mechanism to keep people out." Well, that's just awesome.

As a major side note: My Mom and Dad got divorced before I turned two. My father, in my humble opinion, has never been a good father figure. For a long time I didn't have a father figure in my life. Even though I went to my Dad's house every other weekend, I always loved my Mom more. Having a father that I had a hard time loving became a way of life for me as a child. I would latch on to my mom's ankles, cry, and say that I had a headache every time I had to go to my Dad's. My dad hurt my brothers and I emotionally in big ways when we were younger.

Today, as I sit here writing this, both my brothers and I don't have a very good relationship with our father at all. After finding out maybe two weeks ago that my Dad has a Facebook, and then finding out last night that he also has a Twitter, I found myself wrestling with even writing this blog. I'm 20, though. I'm my own person, and my Dad can't control me forever. So be it if he ends up finding my blog and stumbling upon this. There's nothing he can do about it.

Even though my own Dad hurt me immensely in the past, I can't let that define me. I have a heavenly Father who wouldn't dare try and hurt me. When I'm caught in a fire, he walks with me through it. He doesn't condemn me when I do something wrong. He forgives me and washes my slate clean.

I'm tired of my own father controlling my life and my feelings. I hate that he had such an effect on me throughout my life. I especially hate that I didn't know I still faced these problems.

I've always said that whatever someone faces in their life makes them the person they are today. I've always said that I'm grateful for the trials. I am. When I realized that I was a complex person, and that I didn't like letting people into my life out of fear of being hurt by them, it was a tough pill to swallow. But God brings people into your life - into my life - to show us things that we don't see in ourselves. It's beautifully redemptive. God shows His grace to us through the tough situations (or the hard pills to swallow), and does a  redemptive work in our lives when we are willing to succumb to our own weakness. When we are willing to accept the fact that we have been terribly messed up by this place that we call home.

It's all a part of the transformation that continues to take place in our lives as believers. As sons and daughters of the most high King. It's beautiful.

As I was walking my dog this afternoon I started thinking, which tends to be what I normally do when I'm walking the dog, or cleaning the bathroom. Don't ask me why it's just those to things, but but those are normally the times when I reflect on my life up to this point.

I was thinking about the past year or so of my life, and the things that I've accomplished. This time last year, I was getting ready to test so I would be able to take classes to get my GED. I documented part of my GED journey last fall. You can catch up on it here. In the beginning I saw it as a death sentence. It was the last thing on Earth that I really wanted to do with my time. I knew I had to muddle my way through my classes, hours of math, and the many headaches that were collected along the way. It was the only way I could carry on into the next stage of my life. Through doing so I learned a lot about myself. I went from looking at it as the worst possible thing that could have happened to me, to looking at it as a blessing. I learned that I could believe in myself, that I could be proud of myself and my accomplishments, and that I could actually finish something.

That brings me to my next point. When I was in 11th grade, I became a home school student. School was crazy for me, and the only option I had left was to take all of my classes online. I had absolutely no motivation to get through it, and didn't really care about my classes at all. I knew my teachers would give me a second, third, and fourth chance to turn my work in, even after it was weeks late. This resulted in me finishing my last high school class in February of 2009. My GPA dropped significantly because of my lack of effort, and then I procrastinated on getting things squared away with my GED (I didn't get a high school diploma with the program I took my classes through). At some point in the mess that was my last two year of high school I quit colorguard. I don't know why. I just did. I had quit everything that I was ever good at. Ballet, swing dancing, colorguard, my last summer job. The little voice in my head kept telling me that I could never finish anything. That I wasn't good enough. That I wasn't smart enough. Well, little did I know, that all changed when I set foot in that classroom last October.

In early March I got a phone call from a camp that I had applied at, informing me that I got the job, and that I was to report to them on June 6th. At this point in time I was still had not received my high school diploma, but I was close to crossing the finish line. In late April I took my test, but wasn't expected to get my results for another 8-10 weeks. By the time I got them I was already in Minnesota, at camp, and knee deep in all of its campiness (I know that's not a word, but whatever!). I passed. I finally had a high school diploma...two years late. Better late than never, right? Right. As I went through my Minnesota summer I was skeptical. After my experience the summer before, I just wanted it to be better, and I wanted to finish it out. Two and a half months came and went and I finished that, too.

I sit here today, almost a year after I started taking classes for my GED, confident. Confident in my abilities to succeed, believing in myself and what I'm capable of, and ready to take on the next four years of my life. I'm 7 weeks into my first semester of college, and sometimes I still hear that little voice in my head that tells me I'm not good enough to do this, but then I remind myself of why I'm going to college in the first place. The end result will be worth the hours that I spend locked up in my room doing homework or studying. Knowing what I know today about myself, and my accomplishments, I have enough belief in myself to know that I can get through this just fine. I wouldn't be where I am today had I not walked through those doors last October. Thanks be to God who walked by my side, and replaced the negative voice in my head with his still small voice. Thanks be to God.

The rest of the summer...

I said at the end of last week that I would update this past weekend on the rest of my summer, but time slipped away from me as I was spending time with my step-siblings. It had been three months since I last saw them. Life took over my blog, and I'm totally okay with that. :-) I've thought and thought about how I'm going to do this and the best way seems like the way I did it while I was still at camp Update week-by-week. Here we go...

Week 4: Day Camp in Clearwater, MN. Rejoice Lutheran Church.
Day camp is our program where we go into another town. We're assigned to a church and we spend 5 hours a day with the kids. Do bible study, worship, arts and crafts, and play games. Lots of games. This week was one of my favorite weeks. I was with Kris and Eric, and honestly can't imagine being on a better team. We all meshed really well, which was surprising. I don't, or have I ever, spent a lot of time with guys. I just don't have a lot of guy friends. So I was forced (for lack of a better term, because I didn't feel like I was forced) to spend a whole week with these guys. It was weird at first, I won't lie. By day two we learned how each other operated. We had a lot of laughs, and generally just got to know each other better. The kids were really awesome, too. A lot of them were really young. Pre-school to Kindergarten age. We had a couple who were older, but they were all really well behaved. We had about 20 kids. After we were done with day camp we were able to go back to our host home, relax for a couple hours, and plan for the next day. Our host family was great, too. We all got our own room (I would have had my own, anyway), and they provided breakfast for us every morning, which was awesome. I could go on and on about the great things that happened this particular week, but I'll have to stop here for now.

Week 5: Andy's Gang. 5th and 6th graders.
This week was really awesome, too. I had 8 girls in my cabin, and they were really great. This particular week I was in one of the cabins furthest away from everything. We had to use a bathroom that could have been growing a tree right in the middle of it. We had to walk up a bunch of stairs, over a couple hills, and through the woods to get to our cabin. We had to make that trek more times then I liked to throughout the day. I wanted to complain about it so bad, but my campers weren't. They were just so awesome that way. Once one did, I said "It's okay. Go ahead. I've been complaining inside my head every time I have to walked up these blasted stairs. Let's have a complaining session right now, and then figure out a way to minimize our trips up and down here for the rest of the week." They took it and ran. I thanked them so much for the their willingness to cooperate that week. We shared a lot of laughs, and created some lasting memories. I was weary of this week, too. It was my first week coming back to counseling after my nightmare that was week two. I just didn't want a repeat. I'm grateful it wasn't. This was my biggest growing week, too. My style of counseling changed, through my learning. Choosing your battles was the biggest thing I learned this week and for the rest of the summer. It helped me a lot, and allowed me to have a lot more fun. This was also the week of adding injury on top of injury. By the end of the week I was covered in bruises, scrapes, cuts, and a lot of incredible memories. On Friday after the campers left, I looked down at my legs and cringed. I looked like I was beaten up. I wore long pants the rest of the day, did my hair, and put on make-up. I just needed to feel like a girl for a little while.

Week 6: Half blast (4th and 5th graders) and maintenance.
Half blast is designed for campers who aren't quite ready for a full week of camp. They come on Sunday and leave on Tuesday. This week was a challenge for me because I didn't have a very good attitude about it. It's such a short time, and you just don't get to know your campers at all. They leave right around the time that you would normally start building those bonds with your campers.I also had a lot of other things going on that week that were a distraction (hate saying that). While I was on maintenance after my campers left we pulled a lot of weeds down by the beach, and painted the storm shelter. It looked so cool! I had a lot of great hang out time with my fellow counselors at night, too.

Week 7: Andy's Gang. 5th and 6th graders.
I worked all the weekend before this doing a family camp, so I was exhausted. I didn't have a break at all. Working from 7:30 AM to 11:00 PM ...I was drained. I was not in the mood to deal with 9 kids for another hole week. It had been my second week with no break on the weekend at all. I was bitter at the beginning, but ended up having a great week in the end. I had a few homesick campers, one who slept walked right out of the cabin into another one. That was quite possibly the scariest thing I've ever experienced. It was emotionally and physically draining like any other week, but I got over my pity party and told myself "This is these girls only week here. Quit your complaining and do this for them. Once I did I had a lot of fun. It was a good last week of counseling.

Week 8: Day Camp in Hutchinson, MN. Faith/Christ the King Lutheran Church.
I was on a day camp with Annie and Eli. Annie was my best friend at camp, and Eli was one of the first people I met. He picked me up from the airport with one of my APD's. We had a great week, overall...atleast after we were done with the kids for the day. We had 39 kids. We should have had another person with us. The kids were all high energy. For everyone it was as if there were two. Awesome. We made some great memories, though. We had some great adventures. It was a good last week in MN, even if it was stressful during the day. It was so good to get to spend my last week at camp with Annie, too. We shared so many this summer, and I'm so glad I had her to confide in. It was definitely a special thing to spend my last days in Minnesota with her. My heart is aching right now just writing about this.

I may write about the time in between if I'm feeling ambitious. Pictures will come, too. :-)

Oh yeah, doesn't that face look sweet? I've always thought so, too. Until the little booger sinks her teeth into my hand and bites the heck out of it.

So here's how this happened. My mom accidentally let her out on the porch with the bird out. So I walked out onto the porch to to take care of the situation, and make sure my cat doesn't bite the birds head off (she would). My step-dad walked out onto the porch to take care of it, too. I picked my cat up, was walking back inside, and before I know it my cat is flailing around in my arms, throwing a hissy fit, chomps down on my hand, and puts her claws into my stomach.

You may be thinking to yourself "She's whining over that? Really? What's her problem? She needs to buck up." Well, the truth of the matter is that I don't even think I'm whining over the fact that my cat just punctured my hand and stomach and that I'm continuing to find tiny scratches all over my arms. I think it's the fact that my cat bit me, that's got me reeling. Maybe if you are a mother you can compare this to a time when your child has hurt you. Jenny Simmons said it best here. I feed this thing, scoop her poop, love her. Things that a mother would do, right? This is how she repays me? By biting me? Shoot. That cat had better stay as far out of my site as she can for the next few hours. I'm mad. Even if there's a possibility that she did it because her tail got stuck in the door...