Maybe I'll have the title done by the end...

By Ty Stelting

So lately, I have been at a loss for what to talk about so let's talk about something I am great at, procrastination. Something that I picked up from my mother...I am so great at procrastinating that it is hard to believe that I get anything finished. I am currently writing this blog because I do not want to do the things that I need to do.

What is the deal with procrastinating? Why do I purposefully make sure that I do everything at the last second? Well I could look at it in the psychological sense of Organizational Behavior

Where first time group members meet and actually get stuff done is halfway there but...seniors in college have gotten so great at this skill of "waiting until the last second" that this model above is now a complicated and scientific waste of time. 

Now WHY do I do this to myself...???

Maybe it's the fact that we think the pressure is fun and we enjoy getting stuff done just at the right moment. That would be ludicrous...

Let's look back at the model, maybe the more confident we are the closer that transition period where we actually complete stuff gets closer to the completion date. So it's confidence! 

No......If I was so confident, then I wouldn't be stressing all the way to finals week. Worried about my educational career and think that my life is over the second I get a C on a test. 

Why!!! The anger and stress that comes from procrastination should be the reason why we shouldn't wait to do something that we NEED to do tonight...I mean! In the near future. 

I think my final answer can be found somewhere in role conflict.

Do I feel like being a student four three hours...or do I feel like being a great husband by cooking supper, going on a date, and walking the dog. These priorities seem to be the things that come first. Priorities of being a Star Wars, Once Upon a Time, and Last Man on Earth fan come before being a student but only up to a point....

Solution...there is none, if you procrastinate and never fail at finishing something that has dire consequences,  you will always wait until the last possible moment. I guess we'll see if someone creates a magical drug or system that makes you be on time. But until the end the title of this blog post is "Critical Ratios and Student Consistency blah blah...who cares...?" 

An obviously objective oddball observation of typical sayings regarding high school, college.

Once I started high school, I was constantly reminded that high school is supposed to be the best time of your life. "You'll make great friends," they said. "You won't have the kind of responsibilities that you will later on," they said. "You will have fun," they said... Well, to put it succinctly, I'm still waiting on all of that. And frankly, if high school was supposed to be the best years of my life, that would have been incredibly sad, and I wouldn't have had much to look forward to.

Fastforward four years to high school graduation.

"Okay, actually, college will be the best time of your life," they said. "College is way better than high school," they said. "You'll make your best friend for life," they said. Well, three years, one marriage, five organizations, 124 credit hours, 13 countries, five part-time jobs, and one language later, I'm still questioning the validity of those statements.

College will be the best time of your life: Well, I've had good times, and I've had some really difficult times. I'd say some highlights were marrying Ty, getting straight A's, being honored as "Chancellor of the Year" in a national honors fraternity, and studying abroad. But, there have also been really difficult times. Obviously, it doesn't do well to dwell on those, and no one wants to hear about impending student debt, losing an advisor, sleepless nights, crying breakdowns in another advisor's office, yelling at the registrar, unreturned emails, and personal problems, so I'm just going to skip right on past that. ;) IF these are the best times of your life, what's the point? What's the point in working so hard if nothing will get better? 

College is way better than high school: Can't argue that. Not even a little. The only thing I miss a little is having enough free money to dye my hair every now and then. Other than that, I love it. The freedom that comes with knowing that you are the only person responsible for yourself is amazing. I know that what happens to me (and my husband) will be a direct result of my actions... That's great! So, take that, proverbial "they!" High school wasn't the best time of my life! (Catholic time: "Thanks be to God!")

You'll make your best friend for life: Well, I made that friend in high school, his name's Ty, but usually I call him "husband" or some sickeningly sweet pet name like "behbeh cakes," "honey bear," or occasionally some choice expletives, depending on the mood! Don't get me wrong. I made other best friends, but they're an ocean (or a Facebook message) away.

Upon examination of the ups and downs, college has been a pretty even mix. You should be impressed that I was able to objectively say that, because this is how I'm feeling about college right now:

This has been one of those weeks that's driven me to sincerely consider having a mental breakdown. I probably would if it weren't for the fact that I have absolutely no time for one! Let's hope that after this week, my cortisol levels will drop, I'll have a more positive outlook, have more time to dedicate to my mental health, and.... have a college degree! 

And after that... Well, I'll be looking forward to even more "best years of my life."

An Easter to Remember

Hey this is Ty, the other half of the Stelting clan on this blog (the not so pretty half). This previous week I was lucky enough to be Baptized and Confirmed into the Catholic Church. My experiences with the Catholic Church before this were full of “mysteries” and questioning the sanity of this institution. I decided that, to rationalize this, I needed to join a process that would allow me to understand this chanting and crazy body and blood thing they call communion. I joined RCIA and now I completely understand why we do the things we do and I have no clue why I didn’t do this sooner!

First off, I joined the RCIA process to become a catholic and get our marriage blessed. I had no real drive to Catholicism because it seemed like the same thing to me as compared to other churches. Once they started showing me the meaning behind the rituals, sacraments, and prayers, I began to understand that Catholicism is not just a religion. It’s a way of life. The meaningfulness, love, and hope that I have gained through Christ and his Church has manifested itself through the Catholic faith and ways of teaching. I used to think that Catholics were all these tests and memorizations just to get to stand up and get bread. However, it is not, we now get to understand the true meaning behind the Eucharist (communion) and the meaning behind the Creed. It changed my life like no other organization has.

Now that I have that all out in the open, I really wanted to talk about Holy Week. Holy Week is the last week of lent that is truly sacred and an emotional time for us. There are three ceremonies that I was able to go to but there is importance in every day. I will talk about each and every one that I went to and how it was able to help me feel closer to Jesus and what he went through and the meaning that it had for me.

Palm Sunday

On Palm Sunday, you walk into the Church and grab a single palm leaf and go sit down. I always wondered why until I was explained to that it was the same thing that was held up by the people of Jerusalem as Jesus entered. So to celebrate this we physically went outside the sanctuary, prayed to Jesus and held up our palms. Then we walked back to our seats within Jerusalem and reenacted the scenes of how we, the people, who just welcomed Jesus, turned on Him and crucified Him. This was powerful for me because it rooted in me that when we sin, we turn our back on Him. He then died to remind us that no matter what we do, He will always care for us and sacrifice for our love.

Good Friday

Then I went to no other mass because I am lazy and a college student in 21 hours. I wanted to go to Holy Thursday to see the washing of the feet and how they undress the altar. Instead I attended Good Friday mass. We went to Seven Dolors, which I think is a weird name because it is a Spanish/English mix meaning seven pains. It now makes sense because the mass Kelsie and I went to was done in Spanish and English.

Seven Dolors Church

The church is beautiful and the Spanish singer Jorge was absolutely breathtaking. We once again reenacted the moments that led up to the crucifixion and all the way to His death. We read scriptures and sang very emotional song. Women who sat three pews ahead of us were actually crying.

This is the night we venerate the cross which looks like this: 

One-by-one we walked up there and touched, bowed, and even kissed the cross to show the overall importance that Jesus’ sacrifice was. It was truly the pinnacle of the whole service. At our usual church that we go to, they actually dropped huge nails into a bucket. This is just to remind us how real this was and how the death of Christ, God’s only begotten son, was purely for us.

Easter Vigil

The importance of Easter vigil is a celebration of the entrants into the church. I was one of those people who had never been baptized so I joined the portion of the group that had to be bathed naked…okay we just had water poured over our head. Fully clothed (thank God for everyone else who would have had to see me). This was meaningful because I had been sinning for many years and the priest would have had to sit through a one hour confession. I will still try and confess any that lead up to it but this literally washed some weight off my shoulders haha.

The next part was the part that made me worry the most because for a little while, I thought we were going to have oil poured on our head…

Needs some face wash...

That is a zit factory waiting to happen…

Like this guy but only with good smelling oil. Thankfully they didn’t they just added a little to the top of our head and the front of the forehead. They call it chrism oil because it is blessed by our bishop.

But enough about me; this is the mass where we get our holy water for the year and light the candle that will remain lit for over the whole year. All the confirmed and baptized had their first communion and finally got to taste that wonderful sacrament.

Conclusion

It all really meant a lot to me; if it wasn’t for all the help from Kelsie, Steven, and the entire RCIA team, I would not have had a life changing experience. I always wanted to become a more thoughtful, kind, and loving person. I could have done it before but now, I have a road map and a guide that I feel like I can now understand more and interpret the word the way God wanted ME to do.

Here are some of the people that really helped me through just this night.

Kelsie and I

L-R: Father Don Zimmerman, me, and Steven Miller(my amazing sponsor)  in front of the Altar.

Deacons of the parish, L-R: Larry Erpelding, me, Wayne Talbot, and Buzz Harris


THANKS FOR READING!!! 

You might be a college student if...

Here's the low-down.
I get busy.
My house is a mess.
Sometimes I don't respond to emails immediately.
But, what I DON'T need right now is Microsoft Outlook's judgement!

Excuse me?


Okay Microsoft Outlook, I have a special message for you:


And lastly, from the ever-so-wise Mr. Squarepants,

Gnashing our teeth to get to Nashville!

What's black and white and hasn't posted in forever?
Me.
Well, I suppose just the last part is true.
Anywho.
(That rhymed.)
ha.
Wow, I'm rusty.
... Moving on.

When people talk about their last semester of college, it's usually with excitement. They are moving on to new things; they have new jobs, new cars, new degrees to pursue, and so many other new and exciting ventures in their lives that they forget to mention the six month bout of pure busyness that the last semester of college can be.

Basically, the first half of the semester has felt like treading water with massive sandbags tied to our feet. We somehow manage to keep our heads above water--most of the time. I suppose we're just waiting for the graduation ceremony to throw us a life vest and pull us out.

Thankfully Spring Break granted us a brief reprieve from the torrent.

The good news was that this handsome guy with the bright smile made it to the second round of interviews for the Masters of Accounting program at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. He's kind of a big deal. :) Anyway, being a neat college and all, Vanderbilt paid for Ty to interview there. So, we were off to Nashville! Yee haw!

Incidentally, it takes about 10 hours from Manhattan, Kansas to get there. Being the extremely kind, charitable people that his Stelting grandparents are, they agreed to go with us to Nashville. We took their car, and they drove most of the way... with only a few close calls. ;) Most of our trip was full of great conversation, and beautiful views like the one of the arch above in St. Louis, and other parts were us looking for ways to occupy our time. For example, Ty, pretending to read a map so I could practice taking pictures of him. Hence the picture below.

After 12 hours, a state full of pot-holed interstate (Get your act together, Tennessee!!!), and a night in a hotel by a Latino Supermercado, we arrived!

I got to tour the School of Nursing at Vanderbilt, and the Accounting Program wined and dined Ty while he interviewed.

And, of course, we took advantage of the traditional sights Nashville has to offer.

Here's Ty and his grandparents at the Grand Ole Opry!

We poked some fun at the at&t building... doesn't it look kind of like batman?

Of course we enjoyed some fine dining, but alas, our time in Nashville had  to come to an end, so we packed up our bags and headed to Memphis. Memphis, Tennessee is a neat town split up by a river. We happened to be in West Memphis, which is actually in Arkansas. [Insert overused joke about Arkansas here.] Per Ty's request, we ate some Memphis Barbeque, which is allegedly famous. Per my request, I sang some bars of "Walking in Memphis" until, per Ty's request, I stopped.

However, Memphis was just a stop on our way to Bentonville, Arkansas to visit Ty's aunt, uncle, and cousins. They have a beautiful house on the outskirts of town with a sloping backyard that overlooks a wooded area. It was a great place to spend the night, especially with the great company. Sadly, we couldn't spend more than a night there, so we drove on... well, Grandpa Stelting drove on.

The next stop on our cross-country loop was a small town in Eastern Kansas to visit some Stelting cousins, Don and Pam. When we drove up to their house, I was taken aback. They have a stupendous country home set in rolling hills of waving gold grasses. I'm sure it would be about ten times as beautiful in the summer when everything is green.

We took advantage of the great location and the sunny day by exploring the "wilderness."

I'm not sure what Ty's doing here, but it's cute, so I thought I'd share. :)

And, while nothing can compare to a Western, Kansas sunset, this one was still beautiful. Poor Ty is stuck being my model until I can wrangle someone else into it, so Ty enjoyed the sunset, and I enjoyed having such a handsome model.

... and an athletic model. :)

After around 30 hours in a vehicle, we arrived in our simple apartment in Manhattan, Kansas, and man did it feel good to be back. We relaxed in our dining room, ate some homemade food, and played a round of Golf (the card game, not the actual game).

The next day, we were able to visit Ty's family in Southwest Kansas. Tami and Brian were great hosts as always. Tami provided great conversation, and Brian provided too much delicious double layer pizza. Suffice to say we were full and happy with our time there!

After what had seemed like forever, we drove up to my family's "ranch" in Western Kansas to this beautiful site:

My grandma Hoss with her walking stick enjoying a nice spring morning. You can't see it, but she was surrounded by pasture and new born calves. This sight brought up so many fond memories, and this picture makes me so nostalgic... so I'll interrupt some long spiel about how growing up in the country is the best thing ever and show you a picture of a cow instead. :)

Of course we spent plenty of time with the cattle, my parents, my siblings, my grandma, and even got to see my Aunt Maralee whom I hadn't seen in about a year.

I also made an interesting discovery. In addition to being an attractive dog, perfect pet, and a model pup, Papi was made for the country. I've shared some of the greatest pictures of my dog loving life in the country. Papi basically embodies how I felt about spring break, but in a much more attractive way. :)

The Danger of the Romance Novel

Have you ever read a really good book? The kind where you become a character in the story. Like you can hear, smell, see, and touch the surroundings described to you in the pages? What about a romance novel? Have you been swept off your feet by a brave and daring knight? Or have you been charmed by that awkward kid in braces who eventually grows into a handsome man with an equally dazzling personality? Have you been the girl no one noticed, finally matched with that perfect soul mate who gives you the ultimate combination of intrigue and comfort?

I have.

In fact, romance novels and romantic comedies have always been my book or movie of choice. It’s almost impossible to leave the theater feeling happy after watching a movie like Crazy Stupid Love or When Harry Met Sally, or even the Notebook. A romantic story is adventurous, brave, hope-inducing, and almost always has a happy ending… what’s so wrong with that? I hadn’t given it much thought until I heard this question. “What is porn for women?” Porn is a great divider in many marriages—and let’s face it—is predominantly geared towards men. Men are visual creatures, and because of this, easily fall into the trap of sexy women in a visual fantasy designed for male pleasure. But what do women get off on? Women are emotional beings. We desire deeper connections and relationships. We want to care and be cared for. So the answer to the previous questions is, “The romance novel.” This has been demonstrated by the astounding popularity of Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s not like EL James is some prodigal author. The only thing the author has done is play to our culture, and some of our misguided desires.

Our culture views marriage through distorted lenses. If you disagree with me, please feel free to reference the 40 to 50% divorce rate in the United States. Children are taught the wonders of marriage from early on. Every single popular princess story involves a beautiful girl getting married to a prince and living “happily ever after.” Children are taught that getting married to that one perfect man that will satisfy each of their longings. We’re told don’t get married young because your twenties are for being selfish. We’re taught that if it doesn’t work out with someone you can simply divorce them and look for the new solution (a man) to your problem. What we should be telling children is that there is no such thing as a “soul mate.”

Each and every one of us is flawed. There is no way that two flawed people can come together to form a perfect union. It is impossible. God is the only one who can join a couple in a perfect union. This means that He is the most important aspect of marriage. When we recognize we can’t build a “perfect” marriage on our own, it’s much easier to love our spouses for the people they are, instead of the people we wish they could be, or the perfect men they could be as depicted by a novel.

When we read a novel, part of it takes hold in our hearts. We see a man perform a grand gesture, and we think, “Why can’t my husband do that?” Or we hear of a friend’s husband who always brings home flowers, and we think, “Hey, some flowers would be nice.” This hurts us and our marriages. It hurts our future spouses, because they have a fictional character to live up to, and they don’t even know it.

So put those romance novels down. Because even though having someone to do dishes with doesn’t sound good on paper, it makes for a hell of a good life.

Rewarding Children for Participation

"It takes a village to raise a child," that's how the saying goes. And since it takes a village, the village all thinks they can have a say about how to raise children. I've read countless blogs, articles, social media posts all dedicated to raising the perfect child who will never talk back and will not grow up to be a little you-know-what. "Don't spoil them!" they say. "Don't give them too much sugar!" they say. "Don't let them eat GMOs!" they say... and God forbid, "Don't give them medals just for participating!"

Just for a minute, I want to take a second to think back a few years ago to my experience in high school and junior high sports. As a student athlete, I was never bad at sports, but I was never great either. Just like the majority of other students, I went to practice for an hour or more at least five days a week, bought the team tshirt, had my parents make snacks to bring to tournaments, went to all the games whether I was allowed to play or not. Sports was at least a part time job in junior high and seemed like a full-time job in high school. Many times, it was a thankless, overrated, tiring, draining, and depressing job. Other times, I had some of the most fun times I've ever had. So, what was the purpose of all of this?

Athletics, and other extracurricular activities are supposed to be fun. They foster teamwork, team spirit, humility (supposedly), work ethic, and most importantly: life-long health and fitness. So if athletics are so fun and healthy, why are so many children overweight? Why are many kids opting out of participating in sports, or choosing to specialize in only one sport?

In junior high, I ran the 2-mile. Since I was the only one dumb enough to participate at such a young age, I usually got a top-three place at the meet, and was rewarded for my placing... not because I was wonderful at it, but because I was brave enough to train, and eventually race in front of onlookers. In high school, I ran the two mile, and came in dead last every time. What did I get? A pity clap from a few parents at the end of a greuling 17 minutes and 9 seconds, a pat on my back from a coach who had other athletes to attend to, and sore muscles. Guess how long I ran the 2-mile in high school. I raced and performed to the best of my abilities, but myself and the other average, hardworking students saw others excel almost effortlessly. They had natural talent, and were probably working just as hard as we were, but they got all of the glory, and all of the rewards.

Someday, God willing, I will have children of my own, and for that I am scared to death. I am afraid that one day, my child might decide he likes tennis, but be discouraged because he isn't a star athelete. I'm afraid my girl will love to cheerlead, but won't make the cut because she's a little heavy, or doesn't have the right last name. I'm afraid that my children might give up on fun team sports because they were taught that you should only be rewarded for winning, and not for hard work.

It's great to excel at something and to pursue that, but it's even greater to try and maybe even fail at something. I can't imagine something that takes more courage than a young kid trying something that they might not be good at, working hard to improve, and showcasing their effort in front of a society that only cares about you if you win. That is bravery, and that deserves to be rewarded.