New Calling: Dinner Groups Co-Chair

So, I have a new calling*.

Two Sundays ago, I was on my way up to the Bishop's office to look for someone, and before I could make it all the way up the stairs, I was promptly pulled aside by one of the counselors in the bishopric**.

"Caitlin! I'm so glad I ran into you. Can we talk downstairs?"

...........................................

When a member of the bishopric asks you to talk downstairs, you may as well count on getting sustained as something new during sacrament meeting.

"Sure, sounds great!" I cheerily replied knowing full-well what was in store.

So we clamored down the stairs to the bottom floor of the church building--the YSA meets in a three  story building, it's so crazy--and sat down to chat.

Less than five minutes later, I had accepted the calling of dinner groups co-chair***. So exciting! I was actually thrilled when the idea was pitched to me because I LOVE dinner groups.

Love. Dinner.Groups.

When I was living in Davis two summers ago, I had just started going back to church and didn't know many people. Luckily, the Relief Society president in the ward was uh-maiz-ing and immediately came up to me with a proposition: did I want to come to sign up for dinner groups?! Uhhhhhh sure? And so I went, out of sheer curiosity, and it ended up being the way I made all my friends in that ward.

If I've ever written you an email, you know I like to list things out for both easy reading and efficiency. Here's why I heart dinner groups, bulleted out.

They're a church activity, but not really. Sure, they are organized by two members of the RS and Elder's Quorum; but after that, they are basically turned over to the members to decide what they want to have and who is bringing what, where. It helps those who love to plan do their thang, and those who love to just come and support, do what they do best. It's organized chaos at its best.

You get to know new people. If you're like me and sometimes get paralyzed by the fear of being in an awkward social situation, have no fear--dinner groups to the rescue. Since the groups are chosen for you, there's absolutely no risk you'll be left out or chosen last or left sans a partner in crime. Everyone is at the mercy of the co-chairs, and so you become forced to get outside your comfort zone and :GASP!: speak to new people, who may even sit on a different side of the chapel than you...what the WHAT?!

There's a great chance you'll get put in a group with your crush. This is obviously the best reason for dinner groups. Single's wards can be tough for a lot of reasons, but one of the hardest things I've found is this: say a really cute member of the opposite sex gives a talk, lesson, walks by, etc and you're like WHO IS THAT ABSOLUTE FOX?! You then sit in sacrament meeting wondering how to semi-organically become friends with that hottie with the eyes and end up just going home and eating a giant burrito.

I mean, what?

Anyway, dinner groups provide you with some good odds that the cutie with the hair is going to be bringing a salad to your soiree, and the forced mingling can begin.

They reinforce the bonds of your church f(r)amily: I'll never forget the day I stopped putting my mom as my emergency contact on all those forms you fill out for like, everything. I put my best friend at the time (well, he's still my best friend), and thought to myself: wow, how weird. He'll be the one to call my parents and let them know that I am _______*insert catastrophic emergency situation here.*

My point is, as singletons, we need our besties. We need the men and women that we text when things go right and when things go wrong. We need the people with whom we share our greatest triumphs and our most tragic failures. You can never have too many people that love you, and understand you in the unique way that other members of the church can. And how do you make those friends?

By having dinner together on Sundays.

Long story short (too late, always), I believe in dinner groups.

xoxo

Author's Note: I am also a ward missionary. I know, right?

*So, the Mormon church is VERY organized. Freakishly so. Most of the members are asked to volunteer their time and talent in various positions that serve the needs of the ward and stake. These volunteer positions are called callings.

**Have I told you what the bishopric is? It's the group of men that preside over the ward.

***In case you're like, what the HAIL is a dinner group: It's where members of the ward are divided up into groups of like 8-10 and they all get together and have dinner every like, 5 weeks. So, basically exactly what it sounds like.

The Perks Of Being (The Opposite Of) A Wallflower

I love love. Well, mostly.

 I love love in the sense that I love many people and tend to throw the word around similar to the way I agree with "totes" and signify that I can finish something with "on it."

I have always kind of been like that. My whole life I've been an extrovert and get my energy from other people--it's just the way I'm built. The more I have come to accept, embrace and celebrate that part of my personality, the better I've learned how to nourish myself and identify the things I need to feel happy and healthy.

However, as an extrovert with the love languages quality time and service, I sometimes get myself into a situation where I expend a lot of energy and emotion into the people I love, and end up feeling like the emotional stimulation may or may not finish me off. Lately (like, the last 4 years) I've liked to keep a smooth balance of time with besties and some hours to myself to recharge my proverbial batteries.

Contrary to popular belief, I actually LOVE me some alone time. Usually my alone time is paired with or comes after some significant socializing and/or exceptionally difficult day.

For example: The other day I went to work and was like, blah: It was raining, it took a long time to get downtown, I didn't feel like I got a lot done in the morning and I was just feeling off balance. Being that I love Gchat, I  im'ed someone I love and adore and asked if they wanted to go to lunch. Luckily, they did, and I watched the clock until noon when I could bounce out of the office and down the Embarcadero to munch on a mid-day meal.

 After a lunch filled with amazing food and even better conversation, I marched back into the office feeling noticeable lighter and in a much better mood. As I was grabbing my usual after lunch peppermint tea, I couldn't help but think, "quality time is SO my love language!"

However, as the afternoon wore on, I found myself sinking once again into my funk-type mood. There was a social event planned for the evening that I really wanted to attend, but I couldn't help thinking that maybe I should just stay home, wrap myself in my duvet, and watch some Gilmore Girls. My lunch rendezvous provided me with nourishment my extrovert self needed, but the few hours of solo time was sounding so tempting I could think of nothing else.

So I came home, changed into my yoga pants (standard) and settled in with a few episodes of my favorite mother-daughter combo.

Best.Idea.Ever.

As much as I love my friends and as much as relationships are truly what give me my self worth, I usually need some time to decompress. To re-center myself. To be alone with my thoughts.

Being able to be alone is one of the most important qualities I think we can strive to develop, if we don't already love it. I think it's great to be able to be at peace with your own brain. It can help you think things out, take a few deep breaths, and put you in tune with any kind of inspiration you might need to receive.

Again, I love love.

But part of loving love, is loving to be alone.

xoxo

Nike Women's Marathon 2012: Next Year We Are Wearing Matching Outfits. This Is Ridiculous.

Who run the world?

Girls.

And last Sunday, twenty-five thousand of us took to the streets of the city I love and am incredibly blessed to call home, San Francisco, and ran the Nike Women's Half Marathon.

I know, can you believe it? In 2012 I ran two half marathons.

If, on New Year's Eve in 2011 you'd have been like, hey girl, next year you're going to run 13.1 miles in a row on purpose TWICE, I'd have been like, HAIL no. But alas, I would have been wrong.

Typical.

Race bag and recovery drinks--a must have!

The NWM was an incredible experience for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, I got to run it with my bestie and training companion Jessica, which was super legit because we've been running all summer together and it was great to see our hard work pay off.

Running alongside Jess was also helpful because homegirl was basically dragging me along the whole way a la Andrew during the Sea Wheeze, and without her I probably would have given up somewhere in the Presidio and gotten eaten by coyotes. So, there's that.

The race is also incredibly impressive because of the sheer number of participants. Twenty-five thousand people run the course, and there is a lottery to be able to participate. Likely because of the coveted prize at the end: a Tiffany's necklace designed just for the event and given to finishers only.

Rad.

As with all half marathons, it started pretty early, so Jess and I met at her house at 6 a.m. and her darling twin sister chauffeured us downtown to the starting line, Union Square. We started off slow and steady, powering through the financial district that we had clocked so many miles through over the last few months, and made our way to the Embarcadero that would lead us to the Marina.

Ready to race!

I try and always be grateful for my blessings. I have been incredibly lucky to have so many things work out for me, but as we powered down the Embarcadero and through North Beach to head to the Marina, I was basically breathless (okay, I was running, work with me here) with the sheer beauty of the city and love I have for San Francisco. The stillness of the water along the coast so early in the morning  does something for your soul that nothing else can.

After the Embarcadero, we trotted down Marina Blvd., which is one of my absolute favorite places in the city, sailed by the yachts, and began to make our ascent into the Presidio.

Aye yi yi. We basically ran STRAIGHT uphill for like a HALF MILE until we got to the top; after we peaked, we glided down Washington Blvd., and out of the Presidio, heading into Outer Richmond and then finally, Ocean Beach.

Really though. We do! Mile 6

As we got to the top in the Presidio though, I looked around us and noticed how many people were dressed the same. Girls everywhere were in matching pink shirts, purple shirts, yellow pants, tutus...you name it. So I turned to Jessica and was like, "We are basically rejects right now because we didn't coordinate. Next year, we are wearing matching outfits. This is ridiculous."

The end of the race could not have come fast enough. As we ran the final two miles through Golden Gate Park I was practically incoherent (okay, that's a little dramatic, but I was definitely struggling) but Jess just kept us going. As we rounded the bend and saw the finish line, we picked up speed and sailed across...with our eyes on those little blue boxes.

All in all, it was an awesome experience. We got to see the all of the best parts of the city in the most intimate way you can: on foot. I couldn't end this post without a HUGE shout out and thank you to the girls I run with every week: Stephanie, Paola, and of course, Jessica. Love you gals!

The Infinite Power of Hope...And Other Pre-Conference Gems

One of my FAVORITE couples of all time: Seth and Summer

I've been thinking a lot about hope lately. A few months ago, I was running with one my best friends and she said something that really resonated with me. 

We were talking about dating (always) and she's all, "I know we're suppose to be full of hope, but sometimes I don't know how much longer I can be hopeful. I feel like things are getting worse, not better." 

At the time I wasn't sure what to think of that. I am, in general, a very optimistic person and very regularly believe that things will work out for your greater good if you believe they will. 

I have always been someone who is genuinely thrilled for my friends when they get engaged, married and start families. I love to see other people happy, especially if I love them.  I believe that everyone deserves to get what they want.

But every once in a while, I find myself having a week (or six) so full of literal despair that I wonder where all my hope is hiding. 

So, since I am on what I am hoping praying is the almost-end of a full-fledged funk, and with General Conference* this weekend, I decided to search old conference talks for insight into how to be more hopeful. 

Of course, one of the most pertinent talks I discovered was given by President Uchtdorf, who I am convinced I was besties with in a past life. He just like, gets me. 

In October 2008, he gave a talk entitled, "The Infinite Power of Hope." He begins his remarks with a story of his young mother fleeing Czechoslovakia to Germany during WWII with her four children, including President Uchtdorf, who was a toddler at the time, to escape as refugees and live with her parents. 

He narrates a night during which he and his siblings were separated from her by accident, and details her frantic searching, and how her faith that she would be reunited with her children overcame her fear that they would be lost forever.

Now that he has long been an adult, and experienced times of great despair, President Uchtdorf expressed his wish that he could have sat next to her during the time she was searching for he and his siblings, and ask her what kept her going on her search. 

What made her think that maybe, just maybe, the next train she came across during her time of uncertainty might be the one with her family on board. Why didn't she just give up, drop her head into her hands, and think, they can never be found.

Now, of course I was reading this talk on the N-train after work, and as I finished reading that story, I was basically sobbing. I couldn't stop thinking about how I myself am in what I see as one of the most important searches of my life. 

I don't like to blog much about my future husband. I have never classified myself as of those girls that is just waiting for some guy to come and complete me. I finished college, lived in Europe, ran a half marathon (with another in a few weeks) and have an awesome job in an amazing city--this girl stops for no one. 

But there are definitely days when I feel the weight of my single-dom pulling me under like a dangerous rip-tide that is relentlessly surrounding every inch of my body. I've been addicted to the new Owl City CD (thanks, Andrew!) and there's a song with a line that reads, "there were days, when each hour, was a war I fought to survive," and during the last few weeks, there have been moments  where I feel I am fighting a larger battle than I can possibly handle.

But as I kept reading President Uchtdorf's talk (and pulled out my Kleenex, so awkward!), I found comfort in his inspired words. He said, "Hope is one leg of a three-legged stool, together with faith and charity. These three stabilize our lives regardless of the rough or uneven surfaces we might encounter at the time." 

How brilliant, I thought, as my streetcar jolted along, that hope is not hope alone. 

He goes on to say, "Hope is critical to both faith and charity. When disobedience, disappointment and procrastination erode faith, hope is there to uphold our faith. When frustration and impatience challenge charity, hope braces our resolve and urges us to care for our fellow men without expectation of a reward. The brighter our hope, the greater our faith. The stronger our hope, the purer our charity." 

I sat and looked out the window as the shops and houses in Cole Valley whirred by, and thought, if Dieter's (we're on a first name basis, let's be real) mom could be hopeful that she would find her kids in the pitch black night in some European wilderness, I can have hope.

I can be full of hope. And I should be full of hope. 

Because even though there have been many awkward moments of hesitation in my dating life, as well as several unreturned phone calls and conversations after which I literally laid in bed at night and thought, "what just happened," it is better to keep hoping that through all the bad first kisses, ridiculous second dates and totally misread signals that I'll find what I am searching for. 

I can't just drop my head into my hands and say, "I give up;" though somedays, I feel like throwing in the towel is my only option. I have to keep moving forward. 

President Uchtdorf closed with this, he said:

"And to all who suffer-to all who feel discouraged, worried or lonely-I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in."

I mean, how can you say no to that?

xoxo

*For those of you who are unaware of what General Conference is, it's a bi-annual conference that the church holds where its leaders address all of the members from the conference center in Salt Lake City.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

I never really enjoyed babysitting.

Growing up as the youngest child made me spoiled in that I was never really responsible for any younger siblings. There is a relatively large gap between myself and my older brother (nearly 7 years), so for the most part, it was just me and my parents alone together after both of my brothers moved out. I was also one of the youngest neighborhood kids, so there just wasn't a lot of opportunities for me to practice my future mothering skills.

All of that said, I haven't been around a lot of kids. Sure, at church there was always a baby to be passed around, but usually I was too busy socializing, fulfilling my calling or, let's be real, chasing after boys to have any time for peek-a-boo and patty cake. Plus, if you know anything about my father, you know he is always the one to hold the babies and never let them go. Thank goodness he finally has some grandkids, no thanks to me.

Speaking of grandkids, that's actually the subject of my post. This weekend, I went home to visit my parents in my hometown, and help them babysit my adorable niece and nephew for the weekend. It was my brother and sister-in-law's first anniversary, and they headed to Reno for a few days of R & R, leaving the kiddies to myself, my mom and my dad.

Happy Anniversary to Nate and Sarah! (Rylee and I at their wedding)

So, on Friday night I hit the road and headed up north. Although the drive can be nearly 4 hours with traffic, I actually love the opportunity it gives me to just, think. Or not think. I feel like I am constantly checking things-- my email, text messages, Facebook, Twitter, but being in the car you don't have to/can't, so it makes for a few hours of pure, interrupted time to gather my thoughts and work a few things out.

Saturday morning dawned bright and...HOT. Apparently the Sacramento Valley doesn't know it's fall, so it was nearly 80 degrees at 8 a.m. when I crawled out of bed to the sound of a teeny, tiny five year old voice chirping at my door, "Auntie Cait, are you here?!"

David!

I opened the door of our guest bedroom to a beautiful, blonde-haired blue-eyed cutie with a huge smile just waiting to be picked up and carried into the kitchen.

"Hey little peanut!" I exclaimed, a bit groggily, as I swooped up my darling niece, Rylee, and we sauntered into the kitchen where Grandmama (as my mother insists she be called) was making some french toast for us. Perfect way to start the day.

A few minutes later, the men of the house appeared, Papa and my nephew David, who just turned one.

Now, David is the absolute most charming little creature I've ever come in contact with. He has this darling little smile and charges around the house on the chubbiest little legs I've ever seen, getting into EVERYTHING. He pulls open cupboards, eats dirt and grabs literally anything he can reach, so he has to be under constant supervision. He's cute, but a lot of work. I don't know how my sister-in-law does it!

The rest of the day consisted of lunch with my Grandfather (so, Rylee's Great Grandfather) at Olive Garden, and then a little girls outing with just me and Rylee. We got ice cream, did some shopping and just generally has some quality auntie time. I had to use nearly all of my will power to resist buying her a cupcake Halloween costume (apparently she already has a costume, boo), and we of course hit up See's Candy, one of my favorite places to visit when I got home.

Upon our arrival home, we were immediately put to work in the garden, harvesting some veggies for our evening salad. Mother and Father are way off into growing their own food (such hippies, I love it!), so Rylee and I headed our to the garden to pick tomatoes and carrots.

 Rylee and I in the garden

After an amazing dinner, we watch one of my all-time favorite movies, Rio, and headed to bed. Rylee set up her little toddler bed in my room and we had a grown-up girls sleepover, where we chatted long into the night (okay, like 9:30, Auntie Cait was way tired).

On Sunday, Mother gave a talk in church. Since my Dad is in the bishopric, this meant I had to sit with the kiddies by myself in the pew during sacrament. Luckily, Sir David was a bit sleepy, and if I rubbed his little head enough, he would lightly doze off--such a man. Rylee an absolute sweetheart (as always) and we survived the service with minimal disasters.

Hanging out with the kiddies always teaches me a few things. Listed in order of importance.

1. I do, in fact, really want children. They are hilarious and I can honestly see the joy they bring into your life. Their sweet, innocent and unconditional love is inspiring and definitely something I am looking forward to.

2. If I get the privilege of being a stay at home mom, I will likely still need a nanny. Or at the very least a housekeeper. Or a really, really helpful mother-in-law.

3. Germs are a fact of life. You know I hate bacteria, but with kids, it's a reality. I am going to be one of those moms chasing her kids around with a clorox wipe and hand sanitizer constantly. Great.

4. I am really grateful for all of the opportunities I've has thus far to live such a rich life full of experiences that have helped me grow. Finishing college, studying abroad and working in the city are all things I think will make me a better mom. I can cope with stress fairly flawlessly, and have a broad world view that I believe I'll be able to pass on to my little ones and hopefully help them have the ability empathize with others and get along with those who are different from them.

5. Having kids means always putting someone else first, which is why I am so glad I'll likely be a bit of an older mom. This kind of goes hand in hand with why I am glad I didn't get married super young, because I am not sure I would have had the ability to always put someone else's needs before mine 100% of the time in my early 20's. But, now that I am officially in my mid-20's I feel like I am more and more becoming mature enough to truly have the ability to think about someone else first, always.

Needless to say, I have since overcome my aversion to babysitting, thanks to my amazing, adorable niece and nephew.

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend, and I am so blessed to have such a wonderful family. I am so grateful for my brother and sister-in-law, I love them so much!

xoxo