I'm nearly positive I've posted about this concept before- but if not- it's about time.
Time is weird. Time is perception. My sister's due date is today. I don't feel a heavy sense of expectation because in my mind- she'll be at least a week late. I lack the social and physical pressures following my sister's every move. I remember it though- you go into a public place and people tell you it should be any minute because you look like you're going to "pop"- something someone's mother forgot to mention is the most idiotic thing to say to a pregnant woman (that and asking if they're sure they aren't having twins- yes they are sure and thanks for calling them fat). My sister is reminded with every step she takes that there is a baby resting on her pelvis- so she feels a very heavy sense of expectation.
I am locked in never-land with no job, no current leads, no plans to do anything about it until the baby is born and I'm able to do something. That could be as much as a year. For others who have careers or have been through this in a distant past- this seems inconsequential- of no annoyance. I maintain that perspective occassionally- but every now and then I have a panicked state of "I'm never going to find a calling" that sends me into a remission of self-doubt and never-land feeling.
Often we find ourselves hurrying up to wait. We don't manage the success of hurrying up and going- or the patience of waiting and then going without the urgency.
I just realized this is all very advent-y. The whole concept of advent (the season before Christmas in the Christian calendar)- is that we hurry up and wait. These four weeks we have set aside to practice waiting. We are waiting for the coming of Christ- which happens *hopefully* anew each year. What we (I) often neglect to remember is that this whole advent season is just a charade of the real thing. The real wait was on for thousands of years- Jesus came as a baby and still confounded all. The wait continues for all of humanity as our souls anxiously pray for the kingdom to come. So - we have arrived, and we are not yet there. We have hurried and we have sluggishly strolled. We have received and rejected. The climax has come and gone and many of us wanted to feel the chill in our bones, but instead felt a whiplash in our ideas.
I'm still waiting... and watching... and hoping.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Advice Jar: Full
Everyone likes to give advice. I'll try to be positive by saying that everyone enjoys the feeling of helping another, or having that perfect solution that makes life easier for someone else.
I rarely experience advice in that form. Occassionally- someone will tell me something I hadn't thought of before, or it will hit me in a way the rings more true than when I told it to myself. But most of the time if you can imagine a large coin jar suspended above my head- I hear advice and shove it in the jar... as another penny that might help one day, but feels pretty useless today.
I would like to now officially declare my advice jar: Full. I have no more room and no ability to cash the coins in it. They're like european coins- no use to me here. I would like to try to be humble and accept the sage advice from others- but frankly- I'm tired of it. If you aren't convinced that what you have to say is earth-shattering, keep it. Extra advice wears on me like adding lead to the lining of your clothes. If it doesn't work for me- than either in your opinion I am insufficient, or in my opinion- I am alone in my problem. It is best if you hold my hand and ask me what I think is best. Or simply acknowledge that it is a tough spot.
Why do we all assume we know better than other people? I'm just as guilty of this as anyone else (hence my advice veto). But if I let the cynical side of me peek out for a minute- I think a large reason why many of us enjoy giving advice is the joy and conviction that we are right and can show others how right we are with our sound advice.
Maybe, just maybe we all need to learn to listen and ask better. My sister-in-law mentioned the other day that it was national listening day- as a part of the NPR's movement to get people to share and record their stories. I think the problem is not getting people to share the story, but getting people to listen. I was trying not to chuckle- because all I could think about was how I just wanted everyone in the world to listen- and not talk- for a full day. Listen to silence.
Listening could take on other forms too. We could listen to a person's body language or even facial cues that they are uncomfortable, unhappy, bored even- listen and respond! Don't always respond with words- respond with what is needed. Someone is bored - shut up, ask a question. That kind of thing.
Listen and respond. That feels better than advice any day.
I rarely experience advice in that form. Occassionally- someone will tell me something I hadn't thought of before, or it will hit me in a way the rings more true than when I told it to myself. But most of the time if you can imagine a large coin jar suspended above my head- I hear advice and shove it in the jar... as another penny that might help one day, but feels pretty useless today.
I would like to now officially declare my advice jar: Full. I have no more room and no ability to cash the coins in it. They're like european coins- no use to me here. I would like to try to be humble and accept the sage advice from others- but frankly- I'm tired of it. If you aren't convinced that what you have to say is earth-shattering, keep it. Extra advice wears on me like adding lead to the lining of your clothes. If it doesn't work for me- than either in your opinion I am insufficient, or in my opinion- I am alone in my problem. It is best if you hold my hand and ask me what I think is best. Or simply acknowledge that it is a tough spot.
Why do we all assume we know better than other people? I'm just as guilty of this as anyone else (hence my advice veto). But if I let the cynical side of me peek out for a minute- I think a large reason why many of us enjoy giving advice is the joy and conviction that we are right and can show others how right we are with our sound advice.
Maybe, just maybe we all need to learn to listen and ask better. My sister-in-law mentioned the other day that it was national listening day- as a part of the NPR's movement to get people to share and record their stories. I think the problem is not getting people to share the story, but getting people to listen. I was trying not to chuckle- because all I could think about was how I just wanted everyone in the world to listen- and not talk- for a full day. Listen to silence.
Listening could take on other forms too. We could listen to a person's body language or even facial cues that they are uncomfortable, unhappy, bored even- listen and respond! Don't always respond with words- respond with what is needed. Someone is bored - shut up, ask a question. That kind of thing.
Listen and respond. That feels better than advice any day.
Thanks-giving
My experience on Thanksgiving day was surprisingly of thanks-giving. I think sometimes the hoop and holler of holidays can mask what we originally wanted to celebrate. This is cliche to say - but still true. Think about it: on the day that we are to give thanks, we expect a feast and to be with family. If we do not bloat ourselves with carbs, watch the Macy's Day parade and drink wine with family- then all is lost and we have nothing. I didn't experience the blues this year (except the no wine part)- because I had everything I expected.
Thanks-giving is a time to rejoice in the plenty because the memory of scarcity and struggle is still very alive and real. It's a time where we actually shouldbe feasting with strangers and trying out new recipes- sharing what is sacred to us and honoring what is sacred to others.
This year - a strange bump in the Thanksgiving day parade actually gave me space to be thankful. My son, a two year old who doesn't like to miss out, was not keen on taking his afternoon nap. Some days this happens and we let it go- but this day I was not interested in having a cranky toddler at the turkey table. So I cut corners, bribed and begged- anything to get this kid to sleep. Ultimately the "trick" was for Jason and I to lie down in the bed (he usually sleeps in the crib) and go to sleep with him. Jason rubbed his tired belly and he drifted to sleep. Jason wasn't comfortable with all of us crammed on the bed and felt he should help with the meal preparations. I didn't want to leave Hunter alone on a big bed and wasn't all too shy about resting for a little bit. I assumed Hunter would only sleep an hour and figured I could hang out for it. Jason slipped out of bed and I stayed to rest and watch Hunter.
I fully expected to fall asleep- but I never could. I kept watching Hunter sleeping there- sweet- breathing heavy sleep-breaths. He would muss his own hair every now and then and move his arms or switch breathing patterns. At about an hour into the nap- he woke up and asked about Dada and Grammy- I told him they were downstairs and asked if he wanted to go. He said yes, and promptly snuggled up against me and fell back to sleep. For another hour. They started Thanksgiving without us- and I was fine with that. I rested and watched for 2 hours - my son sleeping. I thought about how healthy and happy he was. How sweet and funny he was. How cheeky and pushy he could be. I was thankful for all of it. I wasn't really worried about our food getting cold or missing the big turkey prayer. I was having my own prayer of most sincere thanksgiving right there.
Thanks-giving is a time to rejoice in the plenty because the memory of scarcity and struggle is still very alive and real. It's a time where we actually shouldbe feasting with strangers and trying out new recipes- sharing what is sacred to us and honoring what is sacred to others.
This year - a strange bump in the Thanksgiving day parade actually gave me space to be thankful. My son, a two year old who doesn't like to miss out, was not keen on taking his afternoon nap. Some days this happens and we let it go- but this day I was not interested in having a cranky toddler at the turkey table. So I cut corners, bribed and begged- anything to get this kid to sleep. Ultimately the "trick" was for Jason and I to lie down in the bed (he usually sleeps in the crib) and go to sleep with him. Jason rubbed his tired belly and he drifted to sleep. Jason wasn't comfortable with all of us crammed on the bed and felt he should help with the meal preparations. I didn't want to leave Hunter alone on a big bed and wasn't all too shy about resting for a little bit. I assumed Hunter would only sleep an hour and figured I could hang out for it. Jason slipped out of bed and I stayed to rest and watch Hunter.
I fully expected to fall asleep- but I never could. I kept watching Hunter sleeping there- sweet- breathing heavy sleep-breaths. He would muss his own hair every now and then and move his arms or switch breathing patterns. At about an hour into the nap- he woke up and asked about Dada and Grammy- I told him they were downstairs and asked if he wanted to go. He said yes, and promptly snuggled up against me and fell back to sleep. For another hour. They started Thanksgiving without us- and I was fine with that. I rested and watched for 2 hours - my son sleeping. I thought about how healthy and happy he was. How sweet and funny he was. How cheeky and pushy he could be. I was thankful for all of it. I wasn't really worried about our food getting cold or missing the big turkey prayer. I was having my own prayer of most sincere thanksgiving right there.
Emotionally schizophrenic
Yea, I know- it's been like a decade since I posted. I'm going to try to make it up to you (5 people). I have felt as many pregnant women do: emotionally schizophrenic. What I mean by this is that I have experienced the entire person-hood of each emotion fully within the span of a few hours or a few days- depending on how quickly the pendulum is swinging.
So instead of being confusing and putting all of this in one post... I shall try to separate them out and post on each individual.
Next up: thanksgiving (the act, not the meal).
So instead of being confusing and putting all of this in one post... I shall try to separate them out and post on each individual.
Next up: thanksgiving (the act, not the meal).
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Dirty Dog
I brought the dirty dog in after toying with the idea of leaving him outside until his grooming appointment next Tuesday. You read right- I am splurging (literally from savings) to have my big dog groomed. 2 reasons: he really needs it, we're taking him to my in-laws over Thanksgiving. And yea- it's not good manners to bring a disgustingly dirty dog to a party. Bringing a 120 lb tub of hair and slight drool is pushing it enough as it is.
So I am waiting for the clumps of dirt to fall off onto my freshly (as of last week) cleaned basement floors. Awesome. I get why people buy those funky shed-free hypoallergenic dogs... except most of them are a little crazy in the head after all the weird breeding (the dogs, not the owners).
Hunter is napping and I'm too tired/lazy to do any real housework today. Call it what you will- I blame pregnancy and 2 yr olds and this weird back/sciatic nerve thing I've got going on. Wish I had a chiropractic friend. Oh well.
I'm hoping to get something done later today- Hunter and I are basically on our own for the day- Jason is working literally all day long- like won't come home til 930-10pm. We did grab a 30 minute lunch. I keep being tempted to track his hours, because I doubt even he realizes how much he works. But, alas, I feel like it isn't supportive to beat a dead horse like that.
I know I have it much easier than many- I am not claiming the prize of the wife of the most workaholic husband. Far from it. But I am airing my feelings about the amorphous time that gets spent unseen while doing ministry. Every long day or long week or long month or long season is always dubbed "special circumstances." But when you get out from under the cloak of ministry- you see clearly that it should just be dubbed "regular ministry stuff." Same stuff- every year. Sure, there are rises and falls, ebbs and flows... definite perks to combat the crap. However- there doesn't go by a week when I don't long for the well-paid 9-5 that has the occassional business trip and no baggage at home. Maybe this doesn't exist- at least I know it is a rare species- but I don't stop wondering about what it might be like to have a schedule and a weekend.
Updates on my life: none. No substituting calls, no chaplain steps forward. My church is wonderfully supplying me with opportunities to work childcare so that I can feel a little like I'm pulling some weight here. My house looks less like a hurricane zone- but it's tough to keep it that way (especially with Dirty Dog). My attitude is improving (really, it is)... and I do get to see Harry Potter Friday night at the IMAX theatre. Always a good time! : )
My sister (older) is due November 29th- so in my mind I don't worry until then and if it's early- fun surprise! I kind of can't wrap my head around the fact that she is having another child. I feel like we just started this baby #2 round and didn't realize she was that far ahead of me. I find out what our baby #2 will be November 30th- and am super excited about that! My hope for my sister is that this birthing experience will be a positive one, and her baby healthy and happy. I can't wait to meet Ella Marie in December when my family convenes in Tennessee for our Christmas vacation! It'll be really sweet to pass around this little one for a whole week.
What else? I think that's it... I'm tired of writing even!
So I am waiting for the clumps of dirt to fall off onto my freshly (as of last week) cleaned basement floors. Awesome. I get why people buy those funky shed-free hypoallergenic dogs... except most of them are a little crazy in the head after all the weird breeding (the dogs, not the owners).
Hunter is napping and I'm too tired/lazy to do any real housework today. Call it what you will- I blame pregnancy and 2 yr olds and this weird back/sciatic nerve thing I've got going on. Wish I had a chiropractic friend. Oh well.
I'm hoping to get something done later today- Hunter and I are basically on our own for the day- Jason is working literally all day long- like won't come home til 930-10pm. We did grab a 30 minute lunch. I keep being tempted to track his hours, because I doubt even he realizes how much he works. But, alas, I feel like it isn't supportive to beat a dead horse like that.
I know I have it much easier than many- I am not claiming the prize of the wife of the most workaholic husband. Far from it. But I am airing my feelings about the amorphous time that gets spent unseen while doing ministry. Every long day or long week or long month or long season is always dubbed "special circumstances." But when you get out from under the cloak of ministry- you see clearly that it should just be dubbed "regular ministry stuff." Same stuff- every year. Sure, there are rises and falls, ebbs and flows... definite perks to combat the crap. However- there doesn't go by a week when I don't long for the well-paid 9-5 that has the occassional business trip and no baggage at home. Maybe this doesn't exist- at least I know it is a rare species- but I don't stop wondering about what it might be like to have a schedule and a weekend.
Updates on my life: none. No substituting calls, no chaplain steps forward. My church is wonderfully supplying me with opportunities to work childcare so that I can feel a little like I'm pulling some weight here. My house looks less like a hurricane zone- but it's tough to keep it that way (especially with Dirty Dog). My attitude is improving (really, it is)... and I do get to see Harry Potter Friday night at the IMAX theatre. Always a good time! : )
My sister (older) is due November 29th- so in my mind I don't worry until then and if it's early- fun surprise! I kind of can't wrap my head around the fact that she is having another child. I feel like we just started this baby #2 round and didn't realize she was that far ahead of me. I find out what our baby #2 will be November 30th- and am super excited about that! My hope for my sister is that this birthing experience will be a positive one, and her baby healthy and happy. I can't wait to meet Ella Marie in December when my family convenes in Tennessee for our Christmas vacation! It'll be really sweet to pass around this little one for a whole week.
What else? I think that's it... I'm tired of writing even!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Blank
So if my blog had empty pages for each day- I would have some serious blanks over the last week. I think these blanks resemble my blank face these days. Not blank... I just don't feel like I have much new to write about (in terms of life happenings) and I'm nt sure I'm ready to delve into the stuff I do have to write about (in terms of soul happenings)- so I come up blank. Maybe this is a unique form of writer's block... Not that I have nothing to say- but I'm avoiding it.
Jason and I had a nice talk last night- the kind that isnt emotionally upsetting- but emotionally revealing... the kind that isn't centered on church stuff- but open to some hopeful thoughts on it.... the kind that was just a nice genuine conversation.
Some things that came out of it: I'm frustrated to be put on hold for working toward my new sense of calling (chaplaincy) and from the bowels of my own self-doubt and distrust- I fear that the fire will be gone from this moment when/if I get a chance to pursue it. I'm apathetic about writing. Have always wanted to write/get published at some point- and even though people tell me I'm a good writer- I don't believe them. I know I'm not a bad writer. I see many pieces of crap published (and selling!) everyday. But I also see the good stuff- and I'm so not there. Of course my stupid mind says it's all or nothing. I either write the next great american novel (if that exists anymore) or I sit around and putz away on my blog and not worry about it.
The place where dwell dreams, callings, confidence, ability and timing is a cosmic mess. Who is there to iron it out for us? Who is there to help us navigate the chaos and pull strings when we need to? I hope God- I expect God- I need God. But I can't see the mess- I just know it's there and I'm floating in what feels like the wrong corner of it.
Jason and I had a nice talk last night- the kind that isnt emotionally upsetting- but emotionally revealing... the kind that isn't centered on church stuff- but open to some hopeful thoughts on it.... the kind that was just a nice genuine conversation.
Some things that came out of it: I'm frustrated to be put on hold for working toward my new sense of calling (chaplaincy) and from the bowels of my own self-doubt and distrust- I fear that the fire will be gone from this moment when/if I get a chance to pursue it. I'm apathetic about writing. Have always wanted to write/get published at some point- and even though people tell me I'm a good writer- I don't believe them. I know I'm not a bad writer. I see many pieces of crap published (and selling!) everyday. But I also see the good stuff- and I'm so not there. Of course my stupid mind says it's all or nothing. I either write the next great american novel (if that exists anymore) or I sit around and putz away on my blog and not worry about it.
The place where dwell dreams, callings, confidence, ability and timing is a cosmic mess. Who is there to iron it out for us? Who is there to help us navigate the chaos and pull strings when we need to? I hope God- I expect God- I need God. But I can't see the mess- I just know it's there and I'm floating in what feels like the wrong corner of it.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Hormones?
This is the only explanation I have for what has been going on with me emotionally over the last few months (or decades)... I feel like a ping-pong ball: back and forth, up and down. Give it a rest! I feel significantly better about life today and yesterday than I did, say the last time I posted. Nothing other than a nice day at home with the hubby and a good cry Sunday to get me all sorted out.
I am wondering if this is the main difference between this pregnancy and the last one (other than the fact that I still haven't ballooned up and Hunter definitely got me fat quick)... maybe it's the hormones. My last pregnancy I felt fairly stable. This one- stability is an illusion. Who knows.
Sunday was All Saints day at our church - a time to recognize the saints who have gone before us, particularly those who have died in the last year. It struck me that Memaush died almost exactly a year ago. It'll be a year on November 21st. I have the paradoxical feeling of nearness and distance to that time and those emotions. When we were encouraged to think of our "saints" during the service- it was too painful for me to bring Memaush in full color. I could only stand a brief glimpse, hardly was able to write her name on the index card. She was such a presence in my life. During communion- I got to do one of my favorite things- help serve- and it about broke my heart. This church has grieved over the years- but particularly this year, we lost some foundational people. I could hardly bring myself to look at the faces and eyes of those grieving, some who I knew had a fresh grief, some who were grieving deaths that happened years ago and still feel just as unfair and untimely today. I got through the entire congregation before nearly losing it on the last one... then I fumbled my way to the altar with my little index card with the name Memaush scribbled on it. Jason and Tim offered me communion (seems I ran away before they could get it to me). I tasted juice, bread and tears. I conveniently needed to go to the bathroom and let myself choke in a few sobs before I collected myself to go back out. I had no idea my grief was still so whole.
The strange part was that later, I felt a little lighter. Jason and I got to go on an impromptu dessert date when a college kid was in town and staying with us. Afterwards we let our friend's dogs out and watched the tail end of a movie as the dogs meandered around outside. The end of the movie came with credits and a fun song- and Jason jumped up and started dancing. I laughed. A real laugh. It was fresh and new.
I'm teaching a class on the beatitudes, and I do believe I'll get more out of it than anyone else. I couldn't help but remember the promise from Jesus: blessed are you who mourn, for you shall laugh.
So with my hormones unpredictable, my grief still raw, my purpose questionable, I've decided maybe it's time to start being practical about it. I do better when I have a plan- even if it falls through- it guides me for a short time. I have a meal plan for the next week and a half and a grocery list. I even have a working chore list. Already some of it has been altered- but I have felt better having something. SO for my attitude? Maybe I need some infusion of truth, infusion of good. So, I'm going to try to at least bring one verse or quote to mind every day. I'm accepting all good things from others- give me your favorite verse. Give me your favorite short story. Give me your favorite quote. Remind me of the light. Warm my heart.
I am wondering if this is the main difference between this pregnancy and the last one (other than the fact that I still haven't ballooned up and Hunter definitely got me fat quick)... maybe it's the hormones. My last pregnancy I felt fairly stable. This one- stability is an illusion. Who knows.
Sunday was All Saints day at our church - a time to recognize the saints who have gone before us, particularly those who have died in the last year. It struck me that Memaush died almost exactly a year ago. It'll be a year on November 21st. I have the paradoxical feeling of nearness and distance to that time and those emotions. When we were encouraged to think of our "saints" during the service- it was too painful for me to bring Memaush in full color. I could only stand a brief glimpse, hardly was able to write her name on the index card. She was such a presence in my life. During communion- I got to do one of my favorite things- help serve- and it about broke my heart. This church has grieved over the years- but particularly this year, we lost some foundational people. I could hardly bring myself to look at the faces and eyes of those grieving, some who I knew had a fresh grief, some who were grieving deaths that happened years ago and still feel just as unfair and untimely today. I got through the entire congregation before nearly losing it on the last one... then I fumbled my way to the altar with my little index card with the name Memaush scribbled on it. Jason and Tim offered me communion (seems I ran away before they could get it to me). I tasted juice, bread and tears. I conveniently needed to go to the bathroom and let myself choke in a few sobs before I collected myself to go back out. I had no idea my grief was still so whole.
The strange part was that later, I felt a little lighter. Jason and I got to go on an impromptu dessert date when a college kid was in town and staying with us. Afterwards we let our friend's dogs out and watched the tail end of a movie as the dogs meandered around outside. The end of the movie came with credits and a fun song- and Jason jumped up and started dancing. I laughed. A real laugh. It was fresh and new.
I'm teaching a class on the beatitudes, and I do believe I'll get more out of it than anyone else. I couldn't help but remember the promise from Jesus: blessed are you who mourn, for you shall laugh.
So with my hormones unpredictable, my grief still raw, my purpose questionable, I've decided maybe it's time to start being practical about it. I do better when I have a plan- even if it falls through- it guides me for a short time. I have a meal plan for the next week and a half and a grocery list. I even have a working chore list. Already some of it has been altered- but I have felt better having something. SO for my attitude? Maybe I need some infusion of truth, infusion of good. So, I'm going to try to at least bring one verse or quote to mind every day. I'm accepting all good things from others- give me your favorite verse. Give me your favorite short story. Give me your favorite quote. Remind me of the light. Warm my heart.
Friday, November 5, 2010
So What's Going On?
Nothing. That's what's going on. Absolutely freakin nothing. I have been avoiding this blog - or at least writing much meaningful in it, because I don't have much light in the front of my mind.
I am a little ridiculous, but just hear me out. I feel purposeless these days. I have nothing that I "do." I know intellectually that "doing" something professionally does not make or break a person's worth. I can find the silver lining in every one else's cloud. Except mine. I seem to have a large black hole hovering over my head where all my silver lining goes. I am ridiculous.
I've been progressively making little self-discoveries about myself. Most of it has not been pleasant... like looking in a mirror and realizing that half your teeth are missing because you never flossed. Or something like that. And I do hardly floss- but luckily I have good teeth and gums to withstand the neglect. I brush often... My point is this: I have been given way too much interrupted time. Time enough to find the nasty stuff, but no time to find the silver, no time to look for the rainbow much less a pot of gold. So I keep interrupting myself with horrible self-image statements that are in isolation- true, but in the big gigantic scheme of things- not the end of the world. But my world is troubled.
Here are some of those self-discoveries: I am not content to be a stay-at-home-Mom indefinitely. This should not seem bad or drastic, but when coupled with the reality that I have no real alternative at least for another year- it makes me feel a little desperate and stuck. I also mix in to this discovery a nice pinch (make it a full cup and a half) of guilt for not appreciating the luxury (I get that it can be) and delight that comes with being a stay-at-home-mom. I got up one morning and realized I had absolutely nothing to look forward to that day. Now that sounds a little fatalistic, but what I understood in my soul was that I had no plan, nothing different other than live- help Hunter live, and try to enjoy it. It still sounds bad- but I had no purpose. Helping Hunter through the day didn't fill my void. Growing baby number 2 did not fill the void. Cooking dinner and failing at cleaning the house were not tasks I saw with purpose. I felt like it was another day, doing whatever.
This was not a moment of regret but rather a moment of recognition. I saw that I needed something. That need has filled me with guilt and anxiety because I don't know how to fill it in the near-future, and I wish that I wasn't going to be pissy about that. But I am. I already am. I am being impatient. I feel like I have been waiting all my life to have purpose. I get dangling opportunities, dangling promises, dangling ego strokes, but ultimately I don't close a deal.
I went to college, changed my major to philosophy and religious studies (yea- not the greatest career move)- but I was happy. I found my people. I found my niche. I loved my classes- I actually got into little competitions to see who could get the best grades. I did well- and this felt magnificent after failing and not caring about Chemistry and Calculus. What kills me is I could have done well in those classes- I just didn't care enough to do it. Slacker.
I went to seminary, a choice completely mine, completely revolutionary and completely God-lead. It was one of the best things I ever did- a fantastic place, a fantastic group of friends and classes I wish I could take again since I feel like I didn't pay enough attention the first time around. I didn't have all sunshine and daisies during seminary- there were bumps in the road- but I was in the right place, on the right track.
I got married to the best man in the world (no bias- it's just true). I got a part time job at his church as a youth director because seminary was too short and I hadn't quite figured out my track (or my denomination for that matter). Thus begins the search for purpose. My search seems to be starred with failures. I resigned from the youth job because it turned out I wasn't all that great at it, and it was more painful to stay on and do a shitty job than it was to pretend like everyone stroking my ego was right. The church had an opening for a part time job as a Coordinator of Congregational Care. This was something that actually suited me- but after two years, some unsaid drama and factors in my personal life- it was time to step back and take care of Hunter and my Grandmother. This was a great blessing for me, but extremely difficult at times. The hardest times throughout the two years I was a combination SAHM and caregiver to my Grandmother were actually the most rewarding times. Though it took therapy to get through to the other side (literally). I endured some very stressful and dark moments when Memaush died and Grandmother went to the hospital and rehab, and even when I was playing a large role in orchestrating Grandmother's move to Florida. Grandmother might be the only "job" I had that feels like it wasn't a failure. I had purpose.
I promised childcare to one family and then backed out when the timing wasn't right, I did childcare for another family and now I'm done with that- because a 2 year old, an infant and a pregnancy seemed a little much. Plus I was miserable - felt purposeless again.
I started looking for jobs in the worse economy since the depression (I don't know that for a fact- but it's close enough to reality)... and was still naive enough to be disappointed when nothing seemed to open up. I gave up. I picked substitute teaching because it seemed like a sure-fire way to get income, have flexibility and be able to be home with baby number 2 as long as I need to. Now that we are tight financially and I am sitting around at home waiting for the school system to call me for their next training, I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life.
I got into the whole chaplain kick- started looking at churches to be (eventually) ordained, started looking into CPE (internships)- of which there is only one in Northern Virginia. I basically missed the boat for the most ideal internship before baby #2 is born. This puts me back about a year. When you keep in mind I've been searching for about 10 years- it seems like another brick wall.
Here's where I am in all this: deeply frustrated. I can't seem to catch a break. Not that I "deserve" a break- but rather I just want one. I am not destitute, I am not being yelled at by anyone for not living up to expectations- this is all internal. And I am about to combust.
I grew up smart. I was in gifted classes, told how awesome I was for achieving at the level I did "despite" my hearing impairedment. I had surgeries in 10th grade and the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college. Again- I was so "smart" and capable that none of that set me back. I graduated a semester early from undergrad- worked full time for 3 months (my only venture in the full-time world) and lived at home while working a part time job until fall came and back to school I went. People congratulated and blessed me the whole way to seminary. Thinking back- even one of my earliest church memories was of a young couple who volunteered with the youth group who told me I had amazing potential. In seminary I did well. I was praised for my deep thoughts, my complex hold of theology, my ability to reason and wonder and my ability to minister. I was given no opportunity to preach at my home church, no indication that they intended to ordain me, and no welcome mat for my educated services. I soon learned that as progressive as some Baptist churches were- the denomination as a whole had a long way to go in their acceptance of women in the pulpit. So I decided I didn't need to be a trail-blazer, I just wanted to be a minister- what my calling asked of me. SO I looked at other churches.
Then I graduated (a semester early from seminary too), got married, you heard about those jobs. I was given the opportunity to preach, teach, and plan some worship. I was praised for all of it. Told by someone who does not stick his neck out to compliment that I "had the gift of preaching and with that gift came responsibilities." Yet, somehow I felt like a failure in each job I did. I watched friends of mine excel in everything or something. Co-classmates from seminary who were published, ministers, mothers and probably even had a clean house. I watched as female friends started having families and learning what to do with those new responsibilities. Some remained in the work world- balancing their lives as gracefully as a ballerina. Some chose to stay at home and blossomed with crafts and more children and clean homes. Some went (and still go through) major trauma and even in the most weird and selfish way- I envy their sense of purpose and fight. I don't belittle their struggle, but I am in awe of them- and feel still more useless.
Then there's me. Full of potential. With nothing to do. Don't cut it as a stay at home mom, certainly not cutting it as a chef or maid. Hardly manage to chaffeur. I volunteer at the church but not amazingly so. I just sit around and complain and worry and fester. I'm driving myself crazy.
And this is the longest post ever. But that's what's in my head. I *know* all the reasons it shouldn't be- and I frankly don't want to hear them from anyone while I'm in this crabby moment in my journey. God alone can save me from myself. I know God will. In the meantime- this is me, raw and simple.
I am a little ridiculous, but just hear me out. I feel purposeless these days. I have nothing that I "do." I know intellectually that "doing" something professionally does not make or break a person's worth. I can find the silver lining in every one else's cloud. Except mine. I seem to have a large black hole hovering over my head where all my silver lining goes. I am ridiculous.
I've been progressively making little self-discoveries about myself. Most of it has not been pleasant... like looking in a mirror and realizing that half your teeth are missing because you never flossed. Or something like that. And I do hardly floss- but luckily I have good teeth and gums to withstand the neglect. I brush often... My point is this: I have been given way too much interrupted time. Time enough to find the nasty stuff, but no time to find the silver, no time to look for the rainbow much less a pot of gold. So I keep interrupting myself with horrible self-image statements that are in isolation- true, but in the big gigantic scheme of things- not the end of the world. But my world is troubled.
Here are some of those self-discoveries: I am not content to be a stay-at-home-Mom indefinitely. This should not seem bad or drastic, but when coupled with the reality that I have no real alternative at least for another year- it makes me feel a little desperate and stuck. I also mix in to this discovery a nice pinch (make it a full cup and a half) of guilt for not appreciating the luxury (I get that it can be) and delight that comes with being a stay-at-home-mom. I got up one morning and realized I had absolutely nothing to look forward to that day. Now that sounds a little fatalistic, but what I understood in my soul was that I had no plan, nothing different other than live- help Hunter live, and try to enjoy it. It still sounds bad- but I had no purpose. Helping Hunter through the day didn't fill my void. Growing baby number 2 did not fill the void. Cooking dinner and failing at cleaning the house were not tasks I saw with purpose. I felt like it was another day, doing whatever.
This was not a moment of regret but rather a moment of recognition. I saw that I needed something. That need has filled me with guilt and anxiety because I don't know how to fill it in the near-future, and I wish that I wasn't going to be pissy about that. But I am. I already am. I am being impatient. I feel like I have been waiting all my life to have purpose. I get dangling opportunities, dangling promises, dangling ego strokes, but ultimately I don't close a deal.
I went to college, changed my major to philosophy and religious studies (yea- not the greatest career move)- but I was happy. I found my people. I found my niche. I loved my classes- I actually got into little competitions to see who could get the best grades. I did well- and this felt magnificent after failing and not caring about Chemistry and Calculus. What kills me is I could have done well in those classes- I just didn't care enough to do it. Slacker.
I went to seminary, a choice completely mine, completely revolutionary and completely God-lead. It was one of the best things I ever did- a fantastic place, a fantastic group of friends and classes I wish I could take again since I feel like I didn't pay enough attention the first time around. I didn't have all sunshine and daisies during seminary- there were bumps in the road- but I was in the right place, on the right track.
I got married to the best man in the world (no bias- it's just true). I got a part time job at his church as a youth director because seminary was too short and I hadn't quite figured out my track (or my denomination for that matter). Thus begins the search for purpose. My search seems to be starred with failures. I resigned from the youth job because it turned out I wasn't all that great at it, and it was more painful to stay on and do a shitty job than it was to pretend like everyone stroking my ego was right. The church had an opening for a part time job as a Coordinator of Congregational Care. This was something that actually suited me- but after two years, some unsaid drama and factors in my personal life- it was time to step back and take care of Hunter and my Grandmother. This was a great blessing for me, but extremely difficult at times. The hardest times throughout the two years I was a combination SAHM and caregiver to my Grandmother were actually the most rewarding times. Though it took therapy to get through to the other side (literally). I endured some very stressful and dark moments when Memaush died and Grandmother went to the hospital and rehab, and even when I was playing a large role in orchestrating Grandmother's move to Florida. Grandmother might be the only "job" I had that feels like it wasn't a failure. I had purpose.
I promised childcare to one family and then backed out when the timing wasn't right, I did childcare for another family and now I'm done with that- because a 2 year old, an infant and a pregnancy seemed a little much. Plus I was miserable - felt purposeless again.
I started looking for jobs in the worse economy since the depression (I don't know that for a fact- but it's close enough to reality)... and was still naive enough to be disappointed when nothing seemed to open up. I gave up. I picked substitute teaching because it seemed like a sure-fire way to get income, have flexibility and be able to be home with baby number 2 as long as I need to. Now that we are tight financially and I am sitting around at home waiting for the school system to call me for their next training, I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life.
I got into the whole chaplain kick- started looking at churches to be (eventually) ordained, started looking into CPE (internships)- of which there is only one in Northern Virginia. I basically missed the boat for the most ideal internship before baby #2 is born. This puts me back about a year. When you keep in mind I've been searching for about 10 years- it seems like another brick wall.
Here's where I am in all this: deeply frustrated. I can't seem to catch a break. Not that I "deserve" a break- but rather I just want one. I am not destitute, I am not being yelled at by anyone for not living up to expectations- this is all internal. And I am about to combust.
I grew up smart. I was in gifted classes, told how awesome I was for achieving at the level I did "despite" my hearing impairedment. I had surgeries in 10th grade and the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college. Again- I was so "smart" and capable that none of that set me back. I graduated a semester early from undergrad- worked full time for 3 months (my only venture in the full-time world) and lived at home while working a part time job until fall came and back to school I went. People congratulated and blessed me the whole way to seminary. Thinking back- even one of my earliest church memories was of a young couple who volunteered with the youth group who told me I had amazing potential. In seminary I did well. I was praised for my deep thoughts, my complex hold of theology, my ability to reason and wonder and my ability to minister. I was given no opportunity to preach at my home church, no indication that they intended to ordain me, and no welcome mat for my educated services. I soon learned that as progressive as some Baptist churches were- the denomination as a whole had a long way to go in their acceptance of women in the pulpit. So I decided I didn't need to be a trail-blazer, I just wanted to be a minister- what my calling asked of me. SO I looked at other churches.
Then I graduated (a semester early from seminary too), got married, you heard about those jobs. I was given the opportunity to preach, teach, and plan some worship. I was praised for all of it. Told by someone who does not stick his neck out to compliment that I "had the gift of preaching and with that gift came responsibilities." Yet, somehow I felt like a failure in each job I did. I watched friends of mine excel in everything or something. Co-classmates from seminary who were published, ministers, mothers and probably even had a clean house. I watched as female friends started having families and learning what to do with those new responsibilities. Some remained in the work world- balancing their lives as gracefully as a ballerina. Some chose to stay at home and blossomed with crafts and more children and clean homes. Some went (and still go through) major trauma and even in the most weird and selfish way- I envy their sense of purpose and fight. I don't belittle their struggle, but I am in awe of them- and feel still more useless.
Then there's me. Full of potential. With nothing to do. Don't cut it as a stay at home mom, certainly not cutting it as a chef or maid. Hardly manage to chaffeur. I volunteer at the church but not amazingly so. I just sit around and complain and worry and fester. I'm driving myself crazy.
And this is the longest post ever. But that's what's in my head. I *know* all the reasons it shouldn't be- and I frankly don't want to hear them from anyone while I'm in this crabby moment in my journey. God alone can save me from myself. I know God will. In the meantime- this is me, raw and simple.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Random Thoughts
So I was feeling tired and a little nauseated today (hello, haven't I finished the first trimester?)- so what did I do? I went and got Chick Fil A chicken nuggets, waffle fries and a peppermint shake. Seriously. I have got to be a moron. A) Chick Fil A is not supposed to be the place I financially contribute to (as much as their food is super yummy) B) I'm not supposed to eat out at all, C) I'm certainly not supposed to stuff my belly with food that could survive a nuclear explosion (an exaggeration, but you fast-food haters know what I mean). And of course I am now more tired, although I haven't felt too nauseated. So it's win-lose.
Hunter has been hilarious lately. Some brief shennanigans:
1) When playing around with Jason, he realized that he could see his reflection in Jason's eyes- and said "That's Hunter in there." verbatim- awesome. Then he inspected Jason's eyes further by lifting Jason's eyeids with his thumbs and exclaimed: "balls in your eyes!" Also ridiculously genius in my humble opinion.
2) When playing in the bath tub, Hunter is always excited about the end when we let the water out and he can watch the draining water swirl. Once the water was gone, he was focused upward on the spout- saying: "water in there." I said "yes- that's right." he asked me "when's the water coming?"
3) Hunter is obsessed with pumpkins still, and luckily the fall does not wave goodbye to pumpkins as soon as Halloween is past. We did put away some of our Halloween pumpkin decorations- when Hunter tried to save them all by claiming: "That's Hunter's" and hoarding them so they wouldn't go in the box. Hunter is big into claiming things these days- like my milkshake today was apparently Hunter's. Clever game.
4) I can't remember the other story but there is one.... he has just been talking so much- and in sentences! Amazing. Love it. And now he's napping and I kind of want to as well.
On that note. with my belly full of really awful-for-you food and of course and nice greased baby, I shall take a nap. Because I can. And because I seem to be doing my 1st trimester in the 2nd one.
PS- I'm so glad elections are over. Our phone rang 20 times a day. Jason kept running to answer it. I left it as far out of reach as possible. I'm awful.
Hunter has been hilarious lately. Some brief shennanigans:
1) When playing around with Jason, he realized that he could see his reflection in Jason's eyes- and said "That's Hunter in there." verbatim- awesome. Then he inspected Jason's eyes further by lifting Jason's eyeids with his thumbs and exclaimed: "balls in your eyes!" Also ridiculously genius in my humble opinion.
2) When playing in the bath tub, Hunter is always excited about the end when we let the water out and he can watch the draining water swirl. Once the water was gone, he was focused upward on the spout- saying: "water in there." I said "yes- that's right." he asked me "when's the water coming?"
3) Hunter is obsessed with pumpkins still, and luckily the fall does not wave goodbye to pumpkins as soon as Halloween is past. We did put away some of our Halloween pumpkin decorations- when Hunter tried to save them all by claiming: "That's Hunter's" and hoarding them so they wouldn't go in the box. Hunter is big into claiming things these days- like my milkshake today was apparently Hunter's. Clever game.
4) I can't remember the other story but there is one.... he has just been talking so much- and in sentences! Amazing. Love it. And now he's napping and I kind of want to as well.
On that note. with my belly full of really awful-for-you food and of course and nice greased baby, I shall take a nap. Because I can. And because I seem to be doing my 1st trimester in the 2nd one.
PS- I'm so glad elections are over. Our phone rang 20 times a day. Jason kept running to answer it. I left it as far out of reach as possible. I'm awful.
Monday, November 1, 2010
It's November, People
I'm pretty sure yesterday was July. I'm sort of in disbelief we've already done the Halloween thing and that Thanksgiving is coming. That's when my older sister, Kelly is supposed to have her baby- then it's Christmas, then I'm fat, then I have a baby in April with Easter. It's going to be that quick.
Is it bad that with my pregnancies (this one and Hunters)- I have never had the urge for the baby to "get here already." Many of my friends, family members, and others have expressed this sentiment. I was thrilled to go 6 days late with Hunter. I just needed more time. The blessing inside this is that I haven't had some physical reason why I would need or want such baby to evacuate. So that's nice. I'm speaking more of the emotional readiness. Many people who plan and get pregnant are ready ready ready. Jason and I both need every minute of the 9 months we are allotted. I should say want. Like. Desire. Appreciate. We are realists I guess. I want this baby- but I know that Hunter probably won't. So on top of the nice sleepless nights when we've gotten used to Hunter's 11-12 hour nights- we'll have a 2.5 yr old with a fist some days. Those kind of things. I think I dread all transitions- no matter how joyful. Once it's here- it's here and you deal and you joy and you sorrow. The preparation... a beast emotionally.
Ooh- speaking of preparations. I need to make my appointment for my 20 week ultrasound. Hold please.
Ok, left a message. Kind of anti-climactic.
So. It's November, people. I am still on hold for subbing, on nearly a year's hold for CPE, and even semi-on hold for a doctor's appointment. I'm teaching a class on the beatitudes at our church for the next 3 weeks, which I'm nervous/excited about. It's good stuff- Jesus has some seriously kickin ideas. Question is- I can't compete with the sermon on the mount- so God's going to need to give me some wisdom on how to "re-present" this info here. I get to go back to yoga Thursday nights for the next few weeks- also exciting. I am working lots of childcare hours at the church- so trying to bring home some bacon (or veggie-sausages). I keep feeling the itch to preach- so maybe I'll get the chance. I keep dropping hints that it's been a dream of mine to preach in advent pregnant. We'll see. I have Lily today and tomorrow and then she's off to a real day care.
There is a very high chance thatt I am going to dip into savings and treat myself to some fall cleaning. The following things need to be scrubbed: my house, my dog, my son's carpet, my car, my hubby's truck. I just really feel like if all those were professionally scrubbed, I'll feel a little better about the Christmas clutter.
OK- I'm going to go think about the beatitudes.
Is it bad that with my pregnancies (this one and Hunters)- I have never had the urge for the baby to "get here already." Many of my friends, family members, and others have expressed this sentiment. I was thrilled to go 6 days late with Hunter. I just needed more time. The blessing inside this is that I haven't had some physical reason why I would need or want such baby to evacuate. So that's nice. I'm speaking more of the emotional readiness. Many people who plan and get pregnant are ready ready ready. Jason and I both need every minute of the 9 months we are allotted. I should say want. Like. Desire. Appreciate. We are realists I guess. I want this baby- but I know that Hunter probably won't. So on top of the nice sleepless nights when we've gotten used to Hunter's 11-12 hour nights- we'll have a 2.5 yr old with a fist some days. Those kind of things. I think I dread all transitions- no matter how joyful. Once it's here- it's here and you deal and you joy and you sorrow. The preparation... a beast emotionally.
Ooh- speaking of preparations. I need to make my appointment for my 20 week ultrasound. Hold please.
Ok, left a message. Kind of anti-climactic.
So. It's November, people. I am still on hold for subbing, on nearly a year's hold for CPE, and even semi-on hold for a doctor's appointment. I'm teaching a class on the beatitudes at our church for the next 3 weeks, which I'm nervous/excited about. It's good stuff- Jesus has some seriously kickin ideas. Question is- I can't compete with the sermon on the mount- so God's going to need to give me some wisdom on how to "re-present" this info here. I get to go back to yoga Thursday nights for the next few weeks- also exciting. I am working lots of childcare hours at the church- so trying to bring home some bacon (or veggie-sausages). I keep feeling the itch to preach- so maybe I'll get the chance. I keep dropping hints that it's been a dream of mine to preach in advent pregnant. We'll see. I have Lily today and tomorrow and then she's off to a real day care.
There is a very high chance thatt I am going to dip into savings and treat myself to some fall cleaning. The following things need to be scrubbed: my house, my dog, my son's carpet, my car, my hubby's truck. I just really feel like if all those were professionally scrubbed, I'll feel a little better about the Christmas clutter.
OK- I'm going to go think about the beatitudes.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Just Kidding
So- I stayed up til midnight last night almost finishing the application for the chaplain internship (all but one fairly easy question) and also had the notion to email the director of the program to inform him of my progress and make sure he was still accepting applications.
His helpfully quick response went a little something like this: yadda yadda, interviewing someone today and will most likely fill the spot with them, yadda yadda, if you're interested in future sessions let me know and email me next Friday in the off-chance that the person today bombs, yadda yadda.
So his response was actually much appreciated (he saved me $35 application fee) and was worded nicely enough. However- my knee-jerk reaction was to send him a tongue-in-cheek email about how helpful it was that he gave me false hope about this application and I lost sleep doing it. Or maybe about how much I *loved* writing deeply emotional and vulnerable things about myself while 15 weeks pregnant. Alas- I knew that this was not the right way and he had no idea that all the cards would fall as they did. My hope is that the work I've done will stand for the next time I apply- so all I'll have to do is edit and update.
SO, back to the drawing board. Kind of. More like back to waiting. Have I mentioned I hate waiting? I am patient with grocery lines and traffic- but when I have a vision for the future- I want to run to it. Not walk, certainly not crawl. Run. And I hate to run- so when I feel the urge- it's a big deal.
I can come up with a hundred reasons why this will work out for the best, but it doesn't fix the disappointment. Alas alas.
So now I guess I can go back to trying to make more money. When/if I hear from the substitute teaching people- I'd like to get this show on the road. Ok- going to go plan my life.
His helpfully quick response went a little something like this: yadda yadda, interviewing someone today and will most likely fill the spot with them, yadda yadda, if you're interested in future sessions let me know and email me next Friday in the off-chance that the person today bombs, yadda yadda.
So his response was actually much appreciated (he saved me $35 application fee) and was worded nicely enough. However- my knee-jerk reaction was to send him a tongue-in-cheek email about how helpful it was that he gave me false hope about this application and I lost sleep doing it. Or maybe about how much I *loved* writing deeply emotional and vulnerable things about myself while 15 weeks pregnant. Alas- I knew that this was not the right way and he had no idea that all the cards would fall as they did. My hope is that the work I've done will stand for the next time I apply- so all I'll have to do is edit and update.
SO, back to the drawing board. Kind of. More like back to waiting. Have I mentioned I hate waiting? I am patient with grocery lines and traffic- but when I have a vision for the future- I want to run to it. Not walk, certainly not crawl. Run. And I hate to run- so when I feel the urge- it's a big deal.
I can come up with a hundred reasons why this will work out for the best, but it doesn't fix the disappointment. Alas alas.
So now I guess I can go back to trying to make more money. When/if I hear from the substitute teaching people- I'd like to get this show on the road. Ok- going to go plan my life.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Application Land
So I haven't blogged in a few days, 1) because I'm trying to get my shit together, 2) because I'm working on my CPE application. CPE is a program that acts like a chaplain internship for people who are interested in chaplaincy (like I am) or hoping to go into ministry in other fields and need this program to fulfill some ordination requirements. I'm kinda going with both- I need to be ordained to be a chaplain, and need this program to become a chaplain. (actually, I need to take 4 units- this is my first).
Here is the deal. I am applying for this internship knowing that there is only 1 spot left to be filled and I am due to have a baby on the last day of this internship. So. I'm pushing it a little, but I'd really like to get one unit under my belt before the world of new baby comes and steals me for a year. However, this pushing the deadline (in more ways than one) and limited opening is making me nervous (my reaction rather than the "go get 'im tiger"), and my focus on this application has waivered.
Let me give you an example of what I'm dealing with: Question #1- Give a reasonably full account of your life. Thank God I'm only 29! Question #2- Give a description of your spiritual growth and development.
And there's no page limit or even ballpark figure to give me an idea of what "reasonably full" means to them. I am trying to write well, write comprehensively and yet stay concise and to the point. So a full, concise answer. This is hard. About me, nonetheless. It's easy to wax eloquent about the daily stuff on a blog- but writing fully in a concise, yet "pick me" way about my deepest life stories and struggles.... challenging. Tiring. Easily avoided by snack breaks and toddler needs.
Hunter is napping now- so I must go and write some more about me. And about me. And more me. I'm a bit tired of me- but I have to remember these people have never met me.
Go get 'im tiger! Right?
PS- still haven't heard from the schools, but giving 2-3 weeks as instructed. (Internal voice asks if that's in business days or normal weeks)
Here is the deal. I am applying for this internship knowing that there is only 1 spot left to be filled and I am due to have a baby on the last day of this internship. So. I'm pushing it a little, but I'd really like to get one unit under my belt before the world of new baby comes and steals me for a year. However, this pushing the deadline (in more ways than one) and limited opening is making me nervous (my reaction rather than the "go get 'im tiger"), and my focus on this application has waivered.
Let me give you an example of what I'm dealing with: Question #1- Give a reasonably full account of your life. Thank God I'm only 29! Question #2- Give a description of your spiritual growth and development.
And there's no page limit or even ballpark figure to give me an idea of what "reasonably full" means to them. I am trying to write well, write comprehensively and yet stay concise and to the point. So a full, concise answer. This is hard. About me, nonetheless. It's easy to wax eloquent about the daily stuff on a blog- but writing fully in a concise, yet "pick me" way about my deepest life stories and struggles.... challenging. Tiring. Easily avoided by snack breaks and toddler needs.
Hunter is napping now- so I must go and write some more about me. And about me. And more me. I'm a bit tired of me- but I have to remember these people have never met me.
Go get 'im tiger! Right?
PS- still haven't heard from the schools, but giving 2-3 weeks as instructed. (Internal voice asks if that's in business days or normal weeks)
Monday, October 25, 2010
Women and such
I wrote this entire blog last night in my head before going to bed. That is how much this topic has bothered me. Beware- I am in a grumpy mood today- so where the edges might have been buttered or rounded- expect razors.
I am sad, disgusted, annoyed, mostly angry with my entire gender these days. It's hard enough to be a woman- but to have oher women completely shit on all the hard work that it has taken to get us to this place, well it's infuriating.
Lately I have been inundated with the little ways that women still have SO far to go before we have reached true equality with our male counterparts. Forget all the racial, class and disability issues that get piled on top of that. Woman have earned a good chunk of power and respect. These past few weeks I have noticed all the ways many of us are throwing it away.
Let's open a metaphorical newspaper: go to the back insert section with all the Halloween advertisements. What do you find? Yes- you see it too. There are the baby costumes- so sweet and cute with pumpkins and puppies. Move into the children's section and things start to change a little- the boys are pirates and superheros and the girls are fairies and princesses, nothing too wrong with that- but some of the princess outfits might be a little short or a little wonky on cleavage. Get to the teenager section and the wonky is completed with the girls in short skirts and tiny tops disguised as witches and princesses. Go ahead and finish the job by skipping to the adult section and you have your pick: a woman whore dressed like.... well fill in the blank: maid, witch, farmer, whatever. What are the boys wearing? Still superheros, goblins and pirates- so fully dressed they may as well be mummies. The women must all live in tropical places to be able to go out in so few clothes. Seriously?
Flip back a few pages in the politics pages. Think about the images that some prominent women in politics are putting out there- the doe-faced "I'm not sure but aren't I hot?" platform. Women like Hillary Clinton aren't being voted into office because they are scary, appear to be bitchy and not sexy. I'm sure there are other reasons- but really- Hillary scares me a little- and I'm a woman democrat!
Don't read too much into this- because I have enough evidence other places. Go to facebook- click on your friend's photo album of her fun time at the boat party. There you will find about 5 guys, 4 of whom are lanky and not overly attractive- 1 who is actually pretty attractive- but almost too well put together. His parents own the boat and he has invited 25 of his closest female friends. It is the tropics- so they have done their best to find the tiniest bikinis they can- sparkles and cleavage and butt cheeks are a must-have. So much so that the boy who is taking the pictures enjoys the candor with which these 20 odd young females show off their sparkles, cleavage and butt cheeks. Seriously? What the hell are you girls doing?
I'm no prude- I love to feel sexy, sex is fun and a good and beautiful thing. The sad part about all this is that (I was under this disillusion before)- we women are lead to believe that sexy = our bodies. We have to do everything imaginable to sculpt and display our bodiess so that others may see our sexy. We're taught to downplay our minds and our will so that nothing will get in the way of "them" seeing our body = sexy. Thank God I'm out from under that spell.
Here's the thing. I want to blame men and judge them- but women- it's our fault!! Why are you posing like that? Why are you buying that outfit? Why are you acting demure when you have the will of an ass? Why are you playing dumb when you've got multiple degrees? Why are you buying into this shit? We have power- use it! The best power we have is the ability to not give it away!
Then I turn the finger on myself. I feel like a failure for being a stay at home Mom. I look at my two framed diplomas and feel ashamed that nothing has come of them. I resent people who have careers they love and get paid well to do them. I resent stay at home moms who are content and able to do that well. I believe that anything we do is a choice- that we can work, we can stay home, we can do part time, we can travel with the circus- whatever. The issue is- I feel like I keep not getting to choose. I feel like for every sacrifice I make, an option gets taken away. For every selfish choice I make, an opportunity disappears. I feel like a failure. I'm sulking during my son's nap when I should be doing something about it. Stop listening to the bullshit of today's culture and start listening to my heart.
Here's the problem- my heart is conflicted. My God has given me a call and no road map. My brain has left me in confusion. My soul is searching.
And all I know how to do is eat fudge and sulk.
I am sad, disgusted, annoyed, mostly angry with my entire gender these days. It's hard enough to be a woman- but to have oher women completely shit on all the hard work that it has taken to get us to this place, well it's infuriating.
Lately I have been inundated with the little ways that women still have SO far to go before we have reached true equality with our male counterparts. Forget all the racial, class and disability issues that get piled on top of that. Woman have earned a good chunk of power and respect. These past few weeks I have noticed all the ways many of us are throwing it away.
Let's open a metaphorical newspaper: go to the back insert section with all the Halloween advertisements. What do you find? Yes- you see it too. There are the baby costumes- so sweet and cute with pumpkins and puppies. Move into the children's section and things start to change a little- the boys are pirates and superheros and the girls are fairies and princesses, nothing too wrong with that- but some of the princess outfits might be a little short or a little wonky on cleavage. Get to the teenager section and the wonky is completed with the girls in short skirts and tiny tops disguised as witches and princesses. Go ahead and finish the job by skipping to the adult section and you have your pick: a woman whore dressed like.... well fill in the blank: maid, witch, farmer, whatever. What are the boys wearing? Still superheros, goblins and pirates- so fully dressed they may as well be mummies. The women must all live in tropical places to be able to go out in so few clothes. Seriously?
Flip back a few pages in the politics pages. Think about the images that some prominent women in politics are putting out there- the doe-faced "I'm not sure but aren't I hot?" platform. Women like Hillary Clinton aren't being voted into office because they are scary, appear to be bitchy and not sexy. I'm sure there are other reasons- but really- Hillary scares me a little- and I'm a woman democrat!
Don't read too much into this- because I have enough evidence other places. Go to facebook- click on your friend's photo album of her fun time at the boat party. There you will find about 5 guys, 4 of whom are lanky and not overly attractive- 1 who is actually pretty attractive- but almost too well put together. His parents own the boat and he has invited 25 of his closest female friends. It is the tropics- so they have done their best to find the tiniest bikinis they can- sparkles and cleavage and butt cheeks are a must-have. So much so that the boy who is taking the pictures enjoys the candor with which these 20 odd young females show off their sparkles, cleavage and butt cheeks. Seriously? What the hell are you girls doing?
I'm no prude- I love to feel sexy, sex is fun and a good and beautiful thing. The sad part about all this is that (I was under this disillusion before)- we women are lead to believe that sexy = our bodies. We have to do everything imaginable to sculpt and display our bodiess so that others may see our sexy. We're taught to downplay our minds and our will so that nothing will get in the way of "them" seeing our body = sexy. Thank God I'm out from under that spell.
Here's the thing. I want to blame men and judge them- but women- it's our fault!! Why are you posing like that? Why are you buying that outfit? Why are you acting demure when you have the will of an ass? Why are you playing dumb when you've got multiple degrees? Why are you buying into this shit? We have power- use it! The best power we have is the ability to not give it away!
Then I turn the finger on myself. I feel like a failure for being a stay at home Mom. I look at my two framed diplomas and feel ashamed that nothing has come of them. I resent people who have careers they love and get paid well to do them. I resent stay at home moms who are content and able to do that well. I believe that anything we do is a choice- that we can work, we can stay home, we can do part time, we can travel with the circus- whatever. The issue is- I feel like I keep not getting to choose. I feel like for every sacrifice I make, an option gets taken away. For every selfish choice I make, an opportunity disappears. I feel like a failure. I'm sulking during my son's nap when I should be doing something about it. Stop listening to the bullshit of today's culture and start listening to my heart.
Here's the problem- my heart is conflicted. My God has given me a call and no road map. My brain has left me in confusion. My soul is searching.
And all I know how to do is eat fudge and sulk.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Get your shit together
This is my inner voice speaking. Today I woke up grumpy, was telling Jason my woes and how I know I should not be woeful, etc- but I just feel so damn useless! He told me I needed to give myself some grace. To which I replied:
"I've been giving myself grace for 5 years, it's time for me to get my shit together!" Jason laughed. A lot. Seems my comment tickled his funny bone. But I'm serious! Jason said- oh yea- that's how God works, a time-limit on grace, then it's time to get your shit together. We both thought of the prophets and how they were essentially God's voice of reason saying: get your shit together! God's grace continued- but God really does want us to get our shit together. So what do I do?
Anyone out there who was not born with their shit together and got it together? I'm not talking about people like my older sister who spent time working hard in other professions before they found their passion and put themselves through grad school to do such calling (with a child and hubby and house not neglected) in such an efficient and wonderful way as to make the rest of us feel like we're missing a few days in the week. Yea- you people don't count. I'm talking about the people with dog hair clumps under the couch, dust on everything, toilets with stains in them, kitchens with yesterday's dishes and laundry baskets full of laundry. Is it possible to get my shit together? Do I really have a chance? Is there a formula? A system? A path? A way?? Help me!
It also doesn't help that my husband and child and dog are the collective archetype of Pig Pen from Peanuts.(I even got this character wrong in the first "publication!") It doesn't help that although I can see the end of my first trimester- I still don't seem to have a large storage tank of energy. It doesn't help that I still haven't heard from the school district and am feeling very nervous and defeated. It doesn't help that I was born without my shit together and the whole world around me seems to have gotten that gene.
My system of making it work last year was paying someone to do my least fun shit (cleaning)- I said it was my therapy- turns out it was avoidance. But some people get to avoid their entire lives. Hardly seems fair. I also had another person (Grandmother) for whom I was solely responsible for having had said shit together for. Now it's just Jason and Hunter and the dog and me. I guess they don't merit my energy rising to the occassion.
Feeling defeatist.
Anyone who has gotten their shit togther out there? Share your secrets!
"I've been giving myself grace for 5 years, it's time for me to get my shit together!" Jason laughed. A lot. Seems my comment tickled his funny bone. But I'm serious! Jason said- oh yea- that's how God works, a time-limit on grace, then it's time to get your shit together. We both thought of the prophets and how they were essentially God's voice of reason saying: get your shit together! God's grace continued- but God really does want us to get our shit together. So what do I do?
Anyone out there who was not born with their shit together and got it together? I'm not talking about people like my older sister who spent time working hard in other professions before they found their passion and put themselves through grad school to do such calling (with a child and hubby and house not neglected) in such an efficient and wonderful way as to make the rest of us feel like we're missing a few days in the week. Yea- you people don't count. I'm talking about the people with dog hair clumps under the couch, dust on everything, toilets with stains in them, kitchens with yesterday's dishes and laundry baskets full of laundry. Is it possible to get my shit together? Do I really have a chance? Is there a formula? A system? A path? A way?? Help me!
It also doesn't help that my husband and child and dog are the collective archetype of Pig Pen from Peanuts.(I even got this character wrong in the first "publication!") It doesn't help that although I can see the end of my first trimester- I still don't seem to have a large storage tank of energy. It doesn't help that I still haven't heard from the school district and am feeling very nervous and defeated. It doesn't help that I was born without my shit together and the whole world around me seems to have gotten that gene.
My system of making it work last year was paying someone to do my least fun shit (cleaning)- I said it was my therapy- turns out it was avoidance. But some people get to avoid their entire lives. Hardly seems fair. I also had another person (Grandmother) for whom I was solely responsible for having had said shit together for. Now it's just Jason and Hunter and the dog and me. I guess they don't merit my energy rising to the occassion.
Feeling defeatist.
Anyone who has gotten their shit togther out there? Share your secrets!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Dreams
Last night I had the following dream and snippets of dreams. When Hunter woke me up at 745am, I was still in deep sleep and in the middle of one dream I can't remember.
I dreamt that somehow I was stuck in traffic- or maybe there were cars stopped, and people were hanging outside of their cars. My purse was on the ground and somehow I caught these two men looking suspicious around it- and I realized my wallet was outside the purse-a sure sign they had stolen stuff. I promptly told them toreturn everything to me. Then suddenly we're in some room and I'm having this "give it back" conversation with one guy. He slowly but cheekily starts giving me stuff back. I have to name the things I'm missing, and I keep discovering things and telling him to fork it over. It was all very amiable and light. I went away realizing that he did still have one of my restaurant gift cards but oh well. It was so funny! No fear. No animosity. Just- oh come on- give me my stuff back. Weird. Oh- and in a few other dreams I had long, straight hair that felt very sexy. Inconvenient- but sexy.
So I don't have a lot of clarity today. It's one of those fuzzy rainy days. I'm still waiting to hear back from the school system and I'm getting a little nervous. I'm supposed to hear back within 5-7 business days. According to my calculations I am on day 6. Still nothing. If I "failed" I really don't have a back-up plan. I have my dreams for the future- but dreams don't pay in the present! I don't like waiting. Not knowing. It makes me nervous. And everyone else feels like this too at one time or another.
So one more comment before I grab a snack and then put laundry away (my only accomplishment so far this week it feels like)... Remember that whole thing about "everything happens for a reason" and how I don't really dig it? Well- I've sort of fought that theology because I feel like it is damaging and I've seen it bruise already tender hearts. There's nothing like an innocent bystander telling a couple whose child died- "everything happens for a reason." It's a slap in the face. But here's the deal- that's how I feel. If someone in grief believes it, stands by it and seems to be getting (or is trying to get) comfort from it- do I agree? I know I can't do that- but should I stay quiet- not offer alternatives? Not share that it's a hard concept for me and I don't know what the right answer is? What do you do when someone is dealing with tragedy- or even just every day life- and they're trying to fit it into a box that you feel is just a trap? Where is the line of care and careless crossed?
I dreamt that somehow I was stuck in traffic- or maybe there were cars stopped, and people were hanging outside of their cars. My purse was on the ground and somehow I caught these two men looking suspicious around it- and I realized my wallet was outside the purse-a sure sign they had stolen stuff. I promptly told them toreturn everything to me. Then suddenly we're in some room and I'm having this "give it back" conversation with one guy. He slowly but cheekily starts giving me stuff back. I have to name the things I'm missing, and I keep discovering things and telling him to fork it over. It was all very amiable and light. I went away realizing that he did still have one of my restaurant gift cards but oh well. It was so funny! No fear. No animosity. Just- oh come on- give me my stuff back. Weird. Oh- and in a few other dreams I had long, straight hair that felt very sexy. Inconvenient- but sexy.
So I don't have a lot of clarity today. It's one of those fuzzy rainy days. I'm still waiting to hear back from the school system and I'm getting a little nervous. I'm supposed to hear back within 5-7 business days. According to my calculations I am on day 6. Still nothing. If I "failed" I really don't have a back-up plan. I have my dreams for the future- but dreams don't pay in the present! I don't like waiting. Not knowing. It makes me nervous. And everyone else feels like this too at one time or another.
So one more comment before I grab a snack and then put laundry away (my only accomplishment so far this week it feels like)... Remember that whole thing about "everything happens for a reason" and how I don't really dig it? Well- I've sort of fought that theology because I feel like it is damaging and I've seen it bruise already tender hearts. There's nothing like an innocent bystander telling a couple whose child died- "everything happens for a reason." It's a slap in the face. But here's the deal- that's how I feel. If someone in grief believes it, stands by it and seems to be getting (or is trying to get) comfort from it- do I agree? I know I can't do that- but should I stay quiet- not offer alternatives? Not share that it's a hard concept for me and I don't know what the right answer is? What do you do when someone is dealing with tragedy- or even just every day life- and they're trying to fit it into a box that you feel is just a trap? Where is the line of care and careless crossed?
Monday, October 18, 2010
Bills, Bills, Bills
That song by Destiny's Child is in my head... which is sort of hilarious. It's a ridiculous song. But I have officially entered adult life- I am complaining about bills. See- I don't mind the consistent, every month bills that I neatly set up automatic payment online for. The bills I'm starting to be annoyed by are the sneaky surprise attack ones. The 20% of the medical bill we are now responsible for. The way our health plan works- we start with a certain amount that covers everything covered 100%. We have been blessed to be healthy. So we haven't seen real medical bills until this year. This month really. Which is also a blessing, because the new year brings a newly replenished health plan. But it bites because it is coming at our absolute tightest financial time.
Alas I can't really complain because I do not pay an inch of some of the astronomical medical (and other) bills that other people pay- plus I have the fortunate benefit of being healthy. I mean seriously- being sick AND paying all those bills- it's a wonder why some people can stay so positive. I for one, have only truly been sick when it was on my parents bill, and ever since I've been on my own (slash married) I've been predominantly healthy. So- I complain- but I know how very shallow this complaint and issue is for me. I guess I have a new appreciation for what people go through when they go to the hospital (or not) and worry- not about getting healthy- but about paying for it.
To the people who hate the heath care reform: I don't know enough to make a sound argument for it logistically- but I do know friends who will be insured and have a fraction of the stress and worry removed because of it- and that's enough for me.
But anyway. Bruno (my St Bernard who we think is gaining weight), is breathing heavily and whining at the door. No folks, I'm not neglecting him. I just tricked him into coming inside. What he wants more than anything else in the world to do right this minute is go outside and bark at anything that moves or makes noise. Movement suffices. He is also lazy enough to lie down and whine. Sometimes I wonder- if they could measure dog IQ- would Bruno be special? I love him. But I think he is a bit slower than the average dog.
What else did I want to talk about? Oh yes, the cleaning queens never made an appearance at my house (I'm refering to the fictional characters in a movie I hoped to appear in my house)- so I've made a cleaning plan for this week. Don't get too proud of me yet. I haven't even gotten as far as unloading the dishwasher yet. One load of laundry has been run. This is not stellar progress- but it's something. I'm going to finish this blog, grab something to eat (food is fuel) and throw on a movie and fold laundry. Maybe I'll even get to the dishwasher.
Alas I can't really complain because I do not pay an inch of some of the astronomical medical (and other) bills that other people pay- plus I have the fortunate benefit of being healthy. I mean seriously- being sick AND paying all those bills- it's a wonder why some people can stay so positive. I for one, have only truly been sick when it was on my parents bill, and ever since I've been on my own (slash married) I've been predominantly healthy. So- I complain- but I know how very shallow this complaint and issue is for me. I guess I have a new appreciation for what people go through when they go to the hospital (or not) and worry- not about getting healthy- but about paying for it.
To the people who hate the heath care reform: I don't know enough to make a sound argument for it logistically- but I do know friends who will be insured and have a fraction of the stress and worry removed because of it- and that's enough for me.
But anyway. Bruno (my St Bernard who we think is gaining weight), is breathing heavily and whining at the door. No folks, I'm not neglecting him. I just tricked him into coming inside. What he wants more than anything else in the world to do right this minute is go outside and bark at anything that moves or makes noise. Movement suffices. He is also lazy enough to lie down and whine. Sometimes I wonder- if they could measure dog IQ- would Bruno be special? I love him. But I think he is a bit slower than the average dog.
What else did I want to talk about? Oh yes, the cleaning queens never made an appearance at my house (I'm refering to the fictional characters in a movie I hoped to appear in my house)- so I've made a cleaning plan for this week. Don't get too proud of me yet. I haven't even gotten as far as unloading the dishwasher yet. One load of laundry has been run. This is not stellar progress- but it's something. I'm going to finish this blog, grab something to eat (food is fuel) and throw on a movie and fold laundry. Maybe I'll even get to the dishwasher.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
The Moms fighting
Ok- this has been on my radar lately- and after seeing a few blatant examples of it- I decided I wanted to write about it.
Moms fighting. What I am addressing is this weird little war between stay-at-home Moms, working Moms, and everyone in between. There is this competition over who has it the hardest. Who is the most neglected? Who is the least recognized? Who is the biggest martyr?
Can't we just all get along?
In all seriousness- I can see why there is a little fight here. SAHMs (stay-at-home Moms) envy the daily adult interaction and feeling of having something tangible to report when writing in the "productive and worthy" column. They hate the perception that they do nothing but bathe and exercise all day. They try to describe what it feels like to "work" all day and get nothing done and have nothing (certainly not money) to show for it.
Then you have the working mother. She can't understand why she's not the clear winner- in her mind, she does it all: mom and work. She has pressures at work, pressures at home and no time to herself. She feels that SAHMs are oblivious to the luxury that allows them to stay at home and not have to work. She envies the Mom's that drop off their kids at preschool in their cute work-out clothes that flatters their every curve and muscle.
Here's what I think: we are wasting a lot of energy competing when we should be listening and helping each other out! Being a woman is hard. Being a Mom is hard. Being a mom who happens to be a woman who used to think she could do it all and now is trying to figure out how to make her definition of "all" work- is really, really hard. As a woman who has been in varying shades of this spectrum- I feel like I can offer some perspective. And that is that we really have NO idea what other mothers do on a day-to-day basis or why or how or even how easily.
Take a few examples from my circle of friends... My good friend who is a SAHM and often wears work-out clothes because they are comfortable, not because she has a large chunk of time to work-out. She has a child that has seen the doctor in 2 years and had more procedures and blood work done than some people do in 100 years of living. This child is actually doing pretty well considering she was born weighing less than 1 lb. My friend Nancy takes her to therapy, doctors, fun things, not fun things, etc. Nancy also tries to exist as her own person by selling usborne books and interviewing for jobs that may or may not be a possibility depending on her daughter's needs. She actually might NOT get a job because then they'll be too "rich" for the state insurance that covers the rest of what little their primary insurance covers. In this situation- working would actually be the luxury if they had more money or miraculous insurance. My friend and her husband both have masters degrees and are highly intelligent people. They both felt called into ministry- and we all know how lucrative that can be (wink). My point? On the outside- Nancy looks like a Mom with a particularly small child who goes in and out of Target for fun. What she really is, is a Mom who has more stamina and willpower than a greek goddess and she fights tooth and nail for every good thing her daughter needs- all while trying to navigate the complexity that is her own life and calling and wants. Oh- and when she shops at target- she's got coupons and that's the cheapest therapy she can find.
Ok- now my other friend. She is a working mother who has a well-paying job and is respected professionally. Her husband also has a good job, and everyone is nice and financially stable. She has a 4 month old. My friend has been sick for the last two weeks- and even a few times before that- and she has taken this long to recover because she has literally run herself into the ground. She is trying to meet (her own and others) expectations of what it means to be an excellent professional worker, an excellent mother, and an excellent wife. She has been somehow trained to think that perfection is not only a goal- but the only outcome available to her. She has someone clean her house and someone watches her baby- but she's no pansy. She is up in the wee hours of the night, at work on the weekends to "set an example" and in the meantime trying to make a hundred friends by planning social events so that she can feel like she's getting some personal time. Meanwhile, her father-in-law just died. She looks like a woman who has it all: the cute kid, the nice hubby and the stable income. What she is, is a woman who is never resting, hardly giving herself a moment to stop being sick and plagued with a great sense of guilt and failure for every pleasure or seeming short-cut she allows herelf.
These are just two people I know. I have been a part-time worker Mom, a caregiver of my grandmother and child Mom, a nanny to another baby with my own child and in my first trimester, and soon a part-time worker Mom again. I looked for full-time work- it's hard to find. I realized that I wouldn't get maternity benefits, and I probably wouldn't get paid enough to balance childcare costs. So I'm stay at home. We're tight. And I don't have work out clothes because I'm pregnant and just fattening. But we have family support, we have a loving church, and we have faith that "all will be well, and all shall be well and all will be well." (thank you Julian of Norwich)
Hopefully I've made my point. We are all complicated, delicate, strong, multi-layered and multi-issued people. For Moms out there to get into the martyr wars and the one-up stories and the crazy competition just makes me sad. First of all- yes- some people have it better than others. But seriously- who are we to judge? Do we really know? And once we take the time to find out how someone is really struggling (or not)- are we not going to then be compelled to sorrow with them (or have joy with them!)? Could we pool our blessings? Work out the kinks in struggle with strong, massaging support... Can we stop being so ridiculous and start providing what is needed: community, love, help, resources, kindness. I know this seems a little deep for the Mom wars- but I have just seen it so much- it's really a weird touchy subject for a lot of Moms! I get it. But let's let go.
That's it for now. May God bless all Mothers, single, married, working, searching employment- even the well-built ones who have a spotless house. Bless us all so that we may be a blessing.
Moms fighting. What I am addressing is this weird little war between stay-at-home Moms, working Moms, and everyone in between. There is this competition over who has it the hardest. Who is the most neglected? Who is the least recognized? Who is the biggest martyr?
Can't we just all get along?
In all seriousness- I can see why there is a little fight here. SAHMs (stay-at-home Moms) envy the daily adult interaction and feeling of having something tangible to report when writing in the "productive and worthy" column. They hate the perception that they do nothing but bathe and exercise all day. They try to describe what it feels like to "work" all day and get nothing done and have nothing (certainly not money) to show for it.
Then you have the working mother. She can't understand why she's not the clear winner- in her mind, she does it all: mom and work. She has pressures at work, pressures at home and no time to herself. She feels that SAHMs are oblivious to the luxury that allows them to stay at home and not have to work. She envies the Mom's that drop off their kids at preschool in their cute work-out clothes that flatters their every curve and muscle.
Here's what I think: we are wasting a lot of energy competing when we should be listening and helping each other out! Being a woman is hard. Being a Mom is hard. Being a mom who happens to be a woman who used to think she could do it all and now is trying to figure out how to make her definition of "all" work- is really, really hard. As a woman who has been in varying shades of this spectrum- I feel like I can offer some perspective. And that is that we really have NO idea what other mothers do on a day-to-day basis or why or how or even how easily.
Take a few examples from my circle of friends... My good friend who is a SAHM and often wears work-out clothes because they are comfortable, not because she has a large chunk of time to work-out. She has a child that has seen the doctor in 2 years and had more procedures and blood work done than some people do in 100 years of living. This child is actually doing pretty well considering she was born weighing less than 1 lb. My friend Nancy takes her to therapy, doctors, fun things, not fun things, etc. Nancy also tries to exist as her own person by selling usborne books and interviewing for jobs that may or may not be a possibility depending on her daughter's needs. She actually might NOT get a job because then they'll be too "rich" for the state insurance that covers the rest of what little their primary insurance covers. In this situation- working would actually be the luxury if they had more money or miraculous insurance. My friend and her husband both have masters degrees and are highly intelligent people. They both felt called into ministry- and we all know how lucrative that can be (wink). My point? On the outside- Nancy looks like a Mom with a particularly small child who goes in and out of Target for fun. What she really is, is a Mom who has more stamina and willpower than a greek goddess and she fights tooth and nail for every good thing her daughter needs- all while trying to navigate the complexity that is her own life and calling and wants. Oh- and when she shops at target- she's got coupons and that's the cheapest therapy she can find.
Ok- now my other friend. She is a working mother who has a well-paying job and is respected professionally. Her husband also has a good job, and everyone is nice and financially stable. She has a 4 month old. My friend has been sick for the last two weeks- and even a few times before that- and she has taken this long to recover because she has literally run herself into the ground. She is trying to meet (her own and others) expectations of what it means to be an excellent professional worker, an excellent mother, and an excellent wife. She has been somehow trained to think that perfection is not only a goal- but the only outcome available to her. She has someone clean her house and someone watches her baby- but she's no pansy. She is up in the wee hours of the night, at work on the weekends to "set an example" and in the meantime trying to make a hundred friends by planning social events so that she can feel like she's getting some personal time. Meanwhile, her father-in-law just died. She looks like a woman who has it all: the cute kid, the nice hubby and the stable income. What she is, is a woman who is never resting, hardly giving herself a moment to stop being sick and plagued with a great sense of guilt and failure for every pleasure or seeming short-cut she allows herelf.
These are just two people I know. I have been a part-time worker Mom, a caregiver of my grandmother and child Mom, a nanny to another baby with my own child and in my first trimester, and soon a part-time worker Mom again. I looked for full-time work- it's hard to find. I realized that I wouldn't get maternity benefits, and I probably wouldn't get paid enough to balance childcare costs. So I'm stay at home. We're tight. And I don't have work out clothes because I'm pregnant and just fattening. But we have family support, we have a loving church, and we have faith that "all will be well, and all shall be well and all will be well." (thank you Julian of Norwich)
Hopefully I've made my point. We are all complicated, delicate, strong, multi-layered and multi-issued people. For Moms out there to get into the martyr wars and the one-up stories and the crazy competition just makes me sad. First of all- yes- some people have it better than others. But seriously- who are we to judge? Do we really know? And once we take the time to find out how someone is really struggling (or not)- are we not going to then be compelled to sorrow with them (or have joy with them!)? Could we pool our blessings? Work out the kinks in struggle with strong, massaging support... Can we stop being so ridiculous and start providing what is needed: community, love, help, resources, kindness. I know this seems a little deep for the Mom wars- but I have just seen it so much- it's really a weird touchy subject for a lot of Moms! I get it. But let's let go.
That's it for now. May God bless all Mothers, single, married, working, searching employment- even the well-built ones who have a spotless house. Bless us all so that we may be a blessing.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Fattening the lazy
My belly is protruding. Simply out. Just enough to look like I'm a college beer guzzler. Not quite the cute stage of pregnancy yet.
I'm getting fatter. Not hugely, but visibly nonetheless. I'm also feeling lazy. I credited myself today with not napping, but maybe I should have done that rather than this productive line of events:
check email
call doctor about TB test school district wants you to have
email connection in school district to see how important TB test is
gmail chat with a friend
check facebook
check the weather
go back to facebook
check bank online
go back to facebook and read blog linked there
blog.
No laundry. I did dishes after lunch- but rinsing and putting them in the dishwasher hardly counts as a chore- it's one of those zero-credit activities. You just have to do it, no one applauds this task done.
I didn't pick up, clean, exercise, write a book, bathe the dog, clean the car, clean the toilet, put away laundry, or even check the mail (we usually get it late). Lazy ass am I. I may as well but some sweatpants on and pop in Harry Potter. This is the thing- most laziness happens as a direct result of apathy. If I could choose and plan to be happily lazy- like watching Harry Potter or reading a nice book, then it may not feel so much like I've been sucked into the twilight zone.
That is how I feel. Twilight zone. Fuzzy head, glazed eyes, protruding belly.
People will say- oh but you're pregnant and blah blah. True- but I'm also able to walk, and even trot if I try. I shouldn't be sitting around. I can even fold laundry while sitting.
I need a plan. A path- a goal. Maybe once I start teaching (subbing) I'll get into a routine.
So now- here's what I'm going to do. Fold laundry and do laundry while Harry Potter moves around enough on the screen to make me feel inspired to fly upstairs and put folded laundry away.
I'm getting fatter. Not hugely, but visibly nonetheless. I'm also feeling lazy. I credited myself today with not napping, but maybe I should have done that rather than this productive line of events:
check email
call doctor about TB test school district wants you to have
email connection in school district to see how important TB test is
gmail chat with a friend
check facebook
check the weather
go back to facebook
check bank online
go back to facebook and read blog linked there
blog.
No laundry. I did dishes after lunch- but rinsing and putting them in the dishwasher hardly counts as a chore- it's one of those zero-credit activities. You just have to do it, no one applauds this task done.
I didn't pick up, clean, exercise, write a book, bathe the dog, clean the car, clean the toilet, put away laundry, or even check the mail (we usually get it late). Lazy ass am I. I may as well but some sweatpants on and pop in Harry Potter. This is the thing- most laziness happens as a direct result of apathy. If I could choose and plan to be happily lazy- like watching Harry Potter or reading a nice book, then it may not feel so much like I've been sucked into the twilight zone.
That is how I feel. Twilight zone. Fuzzy head, glazed eyes, protruding belly.
People will say- oh but you're pregnant and blah blah. True- but I'm also able to walk, and even trot if I try. I shouldn't be sitting around. I can even fold laundry while sitting.
I need a plan. A path- a goal. Maybe once I start teaching (subbing) I'll get into a routine.
So now- here's what I'm going to do. Fold laundry and do laundry while Harry Potter moves around enough on the screen to make me feel inspired to fly upstairs and put folded laundry away.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
On hold
Yes, with the DMV. Isn't that classic? Thank goodness for speaker phone. My approximate wait time was 10 mins. We'll see how this goes. Bruno is barking outside, but I don't want to miss anything- so I'm letting him terrorize the neighborhood.
I put in my application to become a substitute for the local school district. I had to complete an online interview that took about 30 minutes (maybe less) and had some good questions, but some that were very difficult to choose from the various answers. It was also kind of weird because it seemed geared toward people who have long-time teaching experience. So when the question said: I am really good at encouraging difficult students to learn... I thought - well- I could see that happening- sure. I like the oddball kids, so that should help. No experience. None in a structured classroom. Sunday School is a little different. Although I love my 5th graders that I'm teaching at church. They are super cute. Things are still cool and fun when you're in 5th grade, and I don't need to hold your hand. It's a fun age.
Still on hold. I'm trying to get my registration renewed. Apparently I got the inspection but didn't bother to finish the job.
And back from my DMV call. I got an inspection, but not emissions. I think that all of these things are a good idea. It just gets a little annoying. We should just do everything at once. How hard is that? Ok. Going to get my emissions done today. Should be fun. Something else to put on the tab.
Back to teaching. So I need to wait around for them to call me to come in for training, fingerprinting, and such. I have to bring all sorts of identification and also a clear TB test. Which means I have to set up an appointment to get one. I wonder if my GYN can do that? Putting it ALL on the tab.
Last night Jason and I watched a movie on netflix instant (fabulous invention btw)... and it was kinda cute. "Carolina" was the movie- with Julia Stiles and Shirley MacLaine (hilarious lady). Anyhow... in the movie- the "best friend" (boy) gave a gift to the girl that just hosted a dinner party- it was the "Cleaning Queens" a pair of gay men dressed in tights with red plastic gloves- singing and dancing and ready to clean her house.
I want me some cleaning queens.
I put in my application to become a substitute for the local school district. I had to complete an online interview that took about 30 minutes (maybe less) and had some good questions, but some that were very difficult to choose from the various answers. It was also kind of weird because it seemed geared toward people who have long-time teaching experience. So when the question said: I am really good at encouraging difficult students to learn... I thought - well- I could see that happening- sure. I like the oddball kids, so that should help. No experience. None in a structured classroom. Sunday School is a little different. Although I love my 5th graders that I'm teaching at church. They are super cute. Things are still cool and fun when you're in 5th grade, and I don't need to hold your hand. It's a fun age.
Still on hold. I'm trying to get my registration renewed. Apparently I got the inspection but didn't bother to finish the job.
And back from my DMV call. I got an inspection, but not emissions. I think that all of these things are a good idea. It just gets a little annoying. We should just do everything at once. How hard is that? Ok. Going to get my emissions done today. Should be fun. Something else to put on the tab.
Back to teaching. So I need to wait around for them to call me to come in for training, fingerprinting, and such. I have to bring all sorts of identification and also a clear TB test. Which means I have to set up an appointment to get one. I wonder if my GYN can do that? Putting it ALL on the tab.
Last night Jason and I watched a movie on netflix instant (fabulous invention btw)... and it was kinda cute. "Carolina" was the movie- with Julia Stiles and Shirley MacLaine (hilarious lady). Anyhow... in the movie- the "best friend" (boy) gave a gift to the girl that just hosted a dinner party- it was the "Cleaning Queens" a pair of gay men dressed in tights with red plastic gloves- singing and dancing and ready to clean her house.
I want me some cleaning queens.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Death and Grief
Yes, yes, I know. I disappear for a week and then return on this note: death. I truly am sorry. My friend's father died in a kayaking accident this weekend. It so happens that my friend is Lily's father (you know- the precious baby that I watch who doesn't like to sleep). Jeremy lived with us for a few months before Amanda (his wife) came and they bought a house a mile down the road. We did a good impression of communal living until Amanda got a job and couldn't cook for us anymore. Amanda got pregnant and I was able to witness Lily's birth just 4 months ago. I have been watching Lily and have continued to be a major part of this family.
Last night I hugged my friends, did some of their dishes and occupied the baby while they walked around doing things, anything.
So many things struck me about this situation. One was that when I found out about Jeremy's Dad- my immediate reaction was shock, and then I moved to a state of rejection. I suppose that's denial- but it felt different. It wasn't that I didn't believe it to be true, but rather I wished to reject the truth. I thought- no- this is not the way this should go, this is not what we choose. I reject it. I choose another path. I choose another outcome. I reject it. Obviously that didn't work- but the feeling was so strong that for a split second I thought the story might change.
It is amazing how normal and not normal death is. I don't know the statistics- but death is a constant and ever-present reality. Every second of the day- not one but many people are dying around the world. This is not unusual. But it doesn't make it hurt less or less strange to the ones it happens closely to. We have an amazing capacity to be completely unaware of death until it strikes close to home. I wonder what that is...why that is.
Something I have learned through the process of grief and watching others grieve is that grief is a very organic thing. I mean that every person, every situation, every instance and timing of grief is shaped and changed by countless variables. We all grieve differently. We grieve in different volumes, different timing, different coping mechanisms. Sometimes we are not healthy- but it's so hard to even discount that grief. When my Memaush died- I fell into depression. I had no idea that it even was an outpouring of my grief. There were countless reasons why I fell into that ditch- but I didn't see them- all I saw was the black hole I'd fallen into. When I started climbing out and sort of had an epiphany moment- I realized (with some help from my counselor) that I wasn't experiencing the same kind of depression that others have experienced- at least not exactly. I was grieving. Time helped. Support helped. Sunlight helped. Joy came in the morning. That doesn't come as quickly or as easily for others. I had no idea how deeply death had carved a hole into my heart. Luckily love was able to fill it back up. Was my depression healthy? No. Could I have avoided it? Maybe. But I learned a lot. My husband and I learned a lot. It was my way.
Now I watch my friends grieve. It is amazing to watch how closely their personalities match their grief. How all the little things about them turn up in their coping. I hope to be a presence with them- supporting them and allowing them to grieve.
Many people say that everything happens for a reason. I understand why they say that, and I understand that it is very comforting to many people. I don't agree with this statement though. At least not in faith and philosophy. Logically- yes everything happens for a reason. There is cause and effect. But what most people are really saying when they say this is that God has a purpose/reason for all of these things happening. That somehow God caused or wanted these things to happen so that the reasons/results may come about. I disagree. I have learned from experience.... well maybe the word learned is too strong- I have discerned from my experiences that God may not be in complete control of all that happens.
We heard Jim Gully speak last week. Jim was trapped in a crushed hotel lobby for 55 hours following the earthquake in Haiti. He was trapped with 4 others, 2 who later died due to injuries and medical complications following the ordeal. Jim's talk was surprisingly humble and non-dramatic. I think these are the kinds of situations when it is ok to feel or speak dramtically- it is a dramatic event. But Jim Gully kept the focus on the event- not himself. He kept the focus on Haiti and the rubble they are still slowly digging through. He has been back to Haiti 6 times since his rescue and plans to continue his deep relationship with the Haitian people. He didn't even glorify the reason he was there in the first place: he was there for a conference that was to discuss whether his group would continue financially supporting a charitable organization that was no longer functioning as well as they hoped it would. His two friends who died- he didn't agonize over the guilt or sorrow he must have felt. Jim kept it simple and honest. It felt very real because it was told so matter-of-factly. He talked about pulling out his laptop to try to get a signal. Singing songs when they got angry or worn out. The most dramatic moment of his story was when he spoke of the rescue- when they heard the workers coming and digging for them- the group broke out into song, the doxology: Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise God all creatures here below.... It was a beautiful moment in his story. Jim said something about what he learned from his experience - and it surprised me. He said that he realized God was not in control of everything. What a powerful and strong statement! I can only imagine the toes he was stepping on to make that statement in a room full of church-goers. I was proud of him. Of course no one made any statement against him in that setting- because who can argue with his experience? He felt the chaos and randomness of nature. He felt the non-judging walls crumbling down on Haitians and Americans, rich and poor- paying no attention to class or race or intelligence. When he said that God does not control everything- I think in his statement he was saying the opposite of what people mean when they say God is in control, or everything happens for a reason. He was saying- we were on a fault line. At that particular time, the earth moved. Shabby walls fell and no one could buy their way out. It just happened. He was safe- because he was at the right place at the right time, although ultimately he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Jim did say that God was with them the whole time, that God was with all of them.
Chaos might be the most frightening thing for humans to embrace. Death is chaotic- random and untimed. Nature often moves with a certain measure of chaos- no matter how well we try to predict it. Life can be very chaotic - and yet it is part of every day, every hour, every second. We just don't know when our slice of chaos will happen. Maybe this is a little bit of the thief in the night that Jesus refers to.
Life is precious. Our time is precious. God is with us all the time, but as scary as it seems- I believe God may not always be in control of what happens to us. The hope I pray for is that God is able, as we read in scriptures, to cause all things to work together for good. Does that mean that all things do? Not necessarily- I think we work together with God in that, and sometimes we are not able or willing to do our part- or that perhaps it will be a long long time before we can. Does that mean that God caused the accident to happen? Not in my opinion- but I do believe that God is able to perform miracles by drawing light out of even the darkest corners.
Last night I hugged my friends, did some of their dishes and occupied the baby while they walked around doing things, anything.
So many things struck me about this situation. One was that when I found out about Jeremy's Dad- my immediate reaction was shock, and then I moved to a state of rejection. I suppose that's denial- but it felt different. It wasn't that I didn't believe it to be true, but rather I wished to reject the truth. I thought- no- this is not the way this should go, this is not what we choose. I reject it. I choose another path. I choose another outcome. I reject it. Obviously that didn't work- but the feeling was so strong that for a split second I thought the story might change.
It is amazing how normal and not normal death is. I don't know the statistics- but death is a constant and ever-present reality. Every second of the day- not one but many people are dying around the world. This is not unusual. But it doesn't make it hurt less or less strange to the ones it happens closely to. We have an amazing capacity to be completely unaware of death until it strikes close to home. I wonder what that is...why that is.
Something I have learned through the process of grief and watching others grieve is that grief is a very organic thing. I mean that every person, every situation, every instance and timing of grief is shaped and changed by countless variables. We all grieve differently. We grieve in different volumes, different timing, different coping mechanisms. Sometimes we are not healthy- but it's so hard to even discount that grief. When my Memaush died- I fell into depression. I had no idea that it even was an outpouring of my grief. There were countless reasons why I fell into that ditch- but I didn't see them- all I saw was the black hole I'd fallen into. When I started climbing out and sort of had an epiphany moment- I realized (with some help from my counselor) that I wasn't experiencing the same kind of depression that others have experienced- at least not exactly. I was grieving. Time helped. Support helped. Sunlight helped. Joy came in the morning. That doesn't come as quickly or as easily for others. I had no idea how deeply death had carved a hole into my heart. Luckily love was able to fill it back up. Was my depression healthy? No. Could I have avoided it? Maybe. But I learned a lot. My husband and I learned a lot. It was my way.
Now I watch my friends grieve. It is amazing to watch how closely their personalities match their grief. How all the little things about them turn up in their coping. I hope to be a presence with them- supporting them and allowing them to grieve.
Many people say that everything happens for a reason. I understand why they say that, and I understand that it is very comforting to many people. I don't agree with this statement though. At least not in faith and philosophy. Logically- yes everything happens for a reason. There is cause and effect. But what most people are really saying when they say this is that God has a purpose/reason for all of these things happening. That somehow God caused or wanted these things to happen so that the reasons/results may come about. I disagree. I have learned from experience.... well maybe the word learned is too strong- I have discerned from my experiences that God may not be in complete control of all that happens.
We heard Jim Gully speak last week. Jim was trapped in a crushed hotel lobby for 55 hours following the earthquake in Haiti. He was trapped with 4 others, 2 who later died due to injuries and medical complications following the ordeal. Jim's talk was surprisingly humble and non-dramatic. I think these are the kinds of situations when it is ok to feel or speak dramtically- it is a dramatic event. But Jim Gully kept the focus on the event- not himself. He kept the focus on Haiti and the rubble they are still slowly digging through. He has been back to Haiti 6 times since his rescue and plans to continue his deep relationship with the Haitian people. He didn't even glorify the reason he was there in the first place: he was there for a conference that was to discuss whether his group would continue financially supporting a charitable organization that was no longer functioning as well as they hoped it would. His two friends who died- he didn't agonize over the guilt or sorrow he must have felt. Jim kept it simple and honest. It felt very real because it was told so matter-of-factly. He talked about pulling out his laptop to try to get a signal. Singing songs when they got angry or worn out. The most dramatic moment of his story was when he spoke of the rescue- when they heard the workers coming and digging for them- the group broke out into song, the doxology: Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise God all creatures here below.... It was a beautiful moment in his story. Jim said something about what he learned from his experience - and it surprised me. He said that he realized God was not in control of everything. What a powerful and strong statement! I can only imagine the toes he was stepping on to make that statement in a room full of church-goers. I was proud of him. Of course no one made any statement against him in that setting- because who can argue with his experience? He felt the chaos and randomness of nature. He felt the non-judging walls crumbling down on Haitians and Americans, rich and poor- paying no attention to class or race or intelligence. When he said that God does not control everything- I think in his statement he was saying the opposite of what people mean when they say God is in control, or everything happens for a reason. He was saying- we were on a fault line. At that particular time, the earth moved. Shabby walls fell and no one could buy their way out. It just happened. He was safe- because he was at the right place at the right time, although ultimately he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Jim did say that God was with them the whole time, that God was with all of them.
Chaos might be the most frightening thing for humans to embrace. Death is chaotic- random and untimed. Nature often moves with a certain measure of chaos- no matter how well we try to predict it. Life can be very chaotic - and yet it is part of every day, every hour, every second. We just don't know when our slice of chaos will happen. Maybe this is a little bit of the thief in the night that Jesus refers to.
Life is precious. Our time is precious. God is with us all the time, but as scary as it seems- I believe God may not always be in control of what happens to us. The hope I pray for is that God is able, as we read in scriptures, to cause all things to work together for good. Does that mean that all things do? Not necessarily- I think we work together with God in that, and sometimes we are not able or willing to do our part- or that perhaps it will be a long long time before we can. Does that mean that God caused the accident to happen? Not in my opinion- but I do believe that God is able to perform miracles by drawing light out of even the darkest corners.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Shopping
I just read a blog by a friend of mine who is reading the shopaholic books and feeling the twinge of her own slight addictions to the impulse buys.
I hate shopping. I've known this, but I don't think I realized how much I hated it (or thought about it) until recently when Jason and I decided to use Hunter's refusal to take a nap anywhere but in the car to our advantage. We gathered up all our gift cards (we still have a bunch from when Hunter was born and the occasional birthday present) and we went shopping. One parent would drive a sleeping baby, the other would hop in and shop with free money. Sounds like fun, right? Wrong. I even hate shopping with free money.
We had $50 to spend at Nordstrom's. $50! I wandered the store aimlessly for several minutes before I realized I wasn't actually looking at anything and I needed a plan. I decided to get leggings and tops to go with them (my new go-to style for a bulging belly). I asked a worker where the leggings were- found them and was immediately overwhelmed by the variety of colors and styles. Then I ventured to the tops section where I was completely lost in a world of fuzz. My brain just fuzzed over. I couldn't focus, I couldn't decide, I couldn't even figure out what colors or size I should be looking at. I got the two pairs of leggings and made a run for it. Back in the car, Jason asked if I spent the whole card- I ashamedly said no. What a poor excuse for a shopper.
Next stop- Barnes and Noble. I was forced to go in again. But this time I had hope- a bookstore- I love books- surely we could work this out. Again- dizzy with options. Fuzzy brain, needing focus and fresh air. An epiphany hits and I think of a vegan cookbook that a friend recommended. I have to text her for the title- but I found it (after another sales clerk showed me where it was). Then I saw a book by Anita Diamant- the same author who wrote the Red Tent. Bought it even though I knew I could get it cheaper on Amazon- very hard to do. I actually went $4 over the gift card- which annoyed me but whatever.
Next stop- the pits of hell. DSW shoe shop. I got this gift certificate from a friend who inherited all the clothes that were too itty for me. Such a nice gesture- but I dreaded using it. Shoe shopping is the center of hell for me. I often feel an overwhelming need to sit down when I enter a shoe shop. I have a little experience this day- so I head straight to the back where the clearance is and start looking. I don't "need" any shoes at this point - that I know of, so I am just aimless. But at least I've narrowed myself down to clearance and size 10 (yea- some shoes just don't look cute in this size). What do I buy? Galoshes. Rain boots. Plastic shoes. I am that girl on what not to wear. It was practical, I ruined the super cute ones my Mom bought me by leaving them outside in the sun to shrink. It'll work for winter snow and our yard becomes a mud-pit, so it really is a necessity. That's what I walked out of there with- of course owing about $4 over the gift card as well... also annoying.
Then Jason meets me in Target with an awake Hunter and I give him the 15 minute warning before I collapse onto the floor. We managed to buy two or three toys for Hunter and spend that card with only $2 over.
Anyone in my family knows that I am the worse person to shop with. I suck at it. I whine. I have to stop and rest. I usually require ice cream. I am the world's most ridiculous shopper ever. This is why my Mother still buys my clothes. This is why my sisters tend to provide most of my accessories over Christmas and birthday presents.
The only exception to the shopping rule is antique shopping- I love it.
And that makes absolutely no sense.
I hate shopping. I've known this, but I don't think I realized how much I hated it (or thought about it) until recently when Jason and I decided to use Hunter's refusal to take a nap anywhere but in the car to our advantage. We gathered up all our gift cards (we still have a bunch from when Hunter was born and the occasional birthday present) and we went shopping. One parent would drive a sleeping baby, the other would hop in and shop with free money. Sounds like fun, right? Wrong. I even hate shopping with free money.
We had $50 to spend at Nordstrom's. $50! I wandered the store aimlessly for several minutes before I realized I wasn't actually looking at anything and I needed a plan. I decided to get leggings and tops to go with them (my new go-to style for a bulging belly). I asked a worker where the leggings were- found them and was immediately overwhelmed by the variety of colors and styles. Then I ventured to the tops section where I was completely lost in a world of fuzz. My brain just fuzzed over. I couldn't focus, I couldn't decide, I couldn't even figure out what colors or size I should be looking at. I got the two pairs of leggings and made a run for it. Back in the car, Jason asked if I spent the whole card- I ashamedly said no. What a poor excuse for a shopper.
Next stop- Barnes and Noble. I was forced to go in again. But this time I had hope- a bookstore- I love books- surely we could work this out. Again- dizzy with options. Fuzzy brain, needing focus and fresh air. An epiphany hits and I think of a vegan cookbook that a friend recommended. I have to text her for the title- but I found it (after another sales clerk showed me where it was). Then I saw a book by Anita Diamant- the same author who wrote the Red Tent. Bought it even though I knew I could get it cheaper on Amazon- very hard to do. I actually went $4 over the gift card- which annoyed me but whatever.
Next stop- the pits of hell. DSW shoe shop. I got this gift certificate from a friend who inherited all the clothes that were too itty for me. Such a nice gesture- but I dreaded using it. Shoe shopping is the center of hell for me. I often feel an overwhelming need to sit down when I enter a shoe shop. I have a little experience this day- so I head straight to the back where the clearance is and start looking. I don't "need" any shoes at this point - that I know of, so I am just aimless. But at least I've narrowed myself down to clearance and size 10 (yea- some shoes just don't look cute in this size). What do I buy? Galoshes. Rain boots. Plastic shoes. I am that girl on what not to wear. It was practical, I ruined the super cute ones my Mom bought me by leaving them outside in the sun to shrink. It'll work for winter snow and our yard becomes a mud-pit, so it really is a necessity. That's what I walked out of there with- of course owing about $4 over the gift card as well... also annoying.
Then Jason meets me in Target with an awake Hunter and I give him the 15 minute warning before I collapse onto the floor. We managed to buy two or three toys for Hunter and spend that card with only $2 over.
Anyone in my family knows that I am the worse person to shop with. I suck at it. I whine. I have to stop and rest. I usually require ice cream. I am the world's most ridiculous shopper ever. This is why my Mother still buys my clothes. This is why my sisters tend to provide most of my accessories over Christmas and birthday presents.
The only exception to the shopping rule is antique shopping- I love it.
And that makes absolutely no sense.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Nap today
The babies are both napping. Through some serious skill of mine I might add. Whew. I just turned the heater on because it is actually cold in the house- and outside. I realized when I put my sweater on Lily and 2 blankets on Hunter that maybe it's time to stop saving energy and start saving babies. :) I will turn it off in a day when the weather gets back up to 70s in the day time- so I won't worry too much. : )
Things happening in my life: hmm... I weighed myself the other day and I was back to what I weighed at the beginning of my pregnancy- which I think means that I am simultaneously losing and gaining weight. I know for a fact I am gaining as I glance down at this bulging belly- I can't hide this pooch from anyone anymore. In fact- someone actually said to me in church- it's a good thing you told us when you did- you wouldn't have been able to hide it long! Thanks, friend. But she's right. I wasn't wearing an oversized shirt- in fact - I'm embracing the belly and snugging it with my shirts that aren't too small but still pre-maternity stuff. On the other hand, I'm losing- my ass is still the same size if not smaller. And I remember distinctly an ass-enlarging period during my first trimester with Hunter- so maybe I'm delaying that just a little. I'm not trying to lose weight- I'm just eating healthier- remember? I'm also more flexitarian now- not choosing meat and dairy- but not eliminating it either. In fact- I just made myself a hot chocolate with some skim milk- thought baby buddha might need a little milk today. : ) I'm trying to get some milk in me each day (even soy milk is fine, says my Dr.) and I'm going to try to incorporate some fish... somehow. I think this is why I feel as good as I do. And check me out- still in my pre-pregnancy clothes! At the end of the day I need my belly band- definitely. But for Hunter- I was in maternity clothes on week 10! I'll be 12 weeks tomorrow! Wow. I can't believe I'm almost out of my 1st trimester (people go between 12-14 weeks on that calculation). I ate a burger and a hot dog last night and burped the burger all night long- not sure it was worth it. I like being vegetarian!
Hmm, what else. Oh- I got pulled over by a cop yesterday- which I was super confused by because it was night time and raining AND I saw him- so I was going like- 5 below the speed limit. He pulls beside me and says- I've got another call but your plates are expired. Well- in short- we've done the work, we just forgot we didn't get the stickers- so we'll have to check into that- but I was like- hey- thanks. Seriously- he was nice about it- like- just fyi- you need to check that. I'm fairly convinced he wouldn't have given me a ticket even if he didn't get called away- but either way- I have to admit- Fairfax City Police are all right. I have been pulled over twice by them- and both of them were nice, informative and helpful. I can't remember if I got a ticket the first time- I think I actually did. They also helped my friend find her lost dog. Maybe I should write them a letter. I hate cops usually- but my fairfax cop experience- surprisingly pleasant. Another reason to live here. Ha.
In other news- my Mom is coming to visit on Wednesday- Monday. I'm super excited because it is always good to have Mom in town. The weather is going to be gorgeous and there are some fun things to do this time of year- so we should have a good time! I also think she needs a little break from the caregiving of Grandmother- and since she was a haven for me during that time- it'll be nice to return the favor. Although- as those with good moms know- they almost always take care of you. I'm going to cook her some of the best vegan recipes we've come up with and try one on her and see how she likes it. Hopefully that works out ok!
It's a dreary day outside, but the kind that changes the weather, welcomes a crisp, blue fall day. I'll deal with these days. The house is getting cleaner- Jason is feeling better- and I'm moving a little better and less sluggish than the past couple of weeks. Today is good, yesterday was good, and tomorrow is hopeful. I like this space.
Yesterday our pastor preached too long- but it was good stuff so it didn't feel too bad. He talked about the difference between perceived reality and envisioned reality. This is the kind of sermon every preacher needs to preach- we just all have different ways to approach it. The perceived reality is basically what we believe to be the real deal- today with all its limits, fears, and constraints. The envisioned reality is when we think kingdom of God and look beyond our limits, fears and abilities. It sort of hit me all over again that "kingdom" thinking is really dependent on God. This seems silly- but in the moment when Tim (the pastor) was painting a picture of envisioned reality- I was doing something that I was completely unaware of. I was picturing "us" (humanity, my church, my husband and I even) doing more, doing better, dreaming bigger. This isn't bad- but then Tim said these words: the envisioned reality is dependent on the presence of God. Dependent on God's help. Dependent on God. Period. Meaning- some of it is going to have to happen outside of our hard work and creativity. Some of it will happen beyond our abilities. This should not have blown my mind - as a Christian this should be an obvious answer- an obvious point. But it blew my mind. It is SO hard for me to think in terms and especially act in ways that are beyond my scope of ability and work. I don't know that I have ever been brave enough to trust God to be not only a part- but a necessity for some plan to work.
just my thoughts on that for today. : ) got to run and do other things before all babies wake up! : )
Things happening in my life: hmm... I weighed myself the other day and I was back to what I weighed at the beginning of my pregnancy- which I think means that I am simultaneously losing and gaining weight. I know for a fact I am gaining as I glance down at this bulging belly- I can't hide this pooch from anyone anymore. In fact- someone actually said to me in church- it's a good thing you told us when you did- you wouldn't have been able to hide it long! Thanks, friend. But she's right. I wasn't wearing an oversized shirt- in fact - I'm embracing the belly and snugging it with my shirts that aren't too small but still pre-maternity stuff. On the other hand, I'm losing- my ass is still the same size if not smaller. And I remember distinctly an ass-enlarging period during my first trimester with Hunter- so maybe I'm delaying that just a little. I'm not trying to lose weight- I'm just eating healthier- remember? I'm also more flexitarian now- not choosing meat and dairy- but not eliminating it either. In fact- I just made myself a hot chocolate with some skim milk- thought baby buddha might need a little milk today. : ) I'm trying to get some milk in me each day (even soy milk is fine, says my Dr.) and I'm going to try to incorporate some fish... somehow. I think this is why I feel as good as I do. And check me out- still in my pre-pregnancy clothes! At the end of the day I need my belly band- definitely. But for Hunter- I was in maternity clothes on week 10! I'll be 12 weeks tomorrow! Wow. I can't believe I'm almost out of my 1st trimester (people go between 12-14 weeks on that calculation). I ate a burger and a hot dog last night and burped the burger all night long- not sure it was worth it. I like being vegetarian!
Hmm, what else. Oh- I got pulled over by a cop yesterday- which I was super confused by because it was night time and raining AND I saw him- so I was going like- 5 below the speed limit. He pulls beside me and says- I've got another call but your plates are expired. Well- in short- we've done the work, we just forgot we didn't get the stickers- so we'll have to check into that- but I was like- hey- thanks. Seriously- he was nice about it- like- just fyi- you need to check that. I'm fairly convinced he wouldn't have given me a ticket even if he didn't get called away- but either way- I have to admit- Fairfax City Police are all right. I have been pulled over twice by them- and both of them were nice, informative and helpful. I can't remember if I got a ticket the first time- I think I actually did. They also helped my friend find her lost dog. Maybe I should write them a letter. I hate cops usually- but my fairfax cop experience- surprisingly pleasant. Another reason to live here. Ha.
In other news- my Mom is coming to visit on Wednesday- Monday. I'm super excited because it is always good to have Mom in town. The weather is going to be gorgeous and there are some fun things to do this time of year- so we should have a good time! I also think she needs a little break from the caregiving of Grandmother- and since she was a haven for me during that time- it'll be nice to return the favor. Although- as those with good moms know- they almost always take care of you. I'm going to cook her some of the best vegan recipes we've come up with and try one on her and see how she likes it. Hopefully that works out ok!
It's a dreary day outside, but the kind that changes the weather, welcomes a crisp, blue fall day. I'll deal with these days. The house is getting cleaner- Jason is feeling better- and I'm moving a little better and less sluggish than the past couple of weeks. Today is good, yesterday was good, and tomorrow is hopeful. I like this space.
Yesterday our pastor preached too long- but it was good stuff so it didn't feel too bad. He talked about the difference between perceived reality and envisioned reality. This is the kind of sermon every preacher needs to preach- we just all have different ways to approach it. The perceived reality is basically what we believe to be the real deal- today with all its limits, fears, and constraints. The envisioned reality is when we think kingdom of God and look beyond our limits, fears and abilities. It sort of hit me all over again that "kingdom" thinking is really dependent on God. This seems silly- but in the moment when Tim (the pastor) was painting a picture of envisioned reality- I was doing something that I was completely unaware of. I was picturing "us" (humanity, my church, my husband and I even) doing more, doing better, dreaming bigger. This isn't bad- but then Tim said these words: the envisioned reality is dependent on the presence of God. Dependent on God's help. Dependent on God. Period. Meaning- some of it is going to have to happen outside of our hard work and creativity. Some of it will happen beyond our abilities. This should not have blown my mind - as a Christian this should be an obvious answer- an obvious point. But it blew my mind. It is SO hard for me to think in terms and especially act in ways that are beyond my scope of ability and work. I don't know that I have ever been brave enough to trust God to be not only a part- but a necessity for some plan to work.
just my thoughts on that for today. : ) got to run and do other things before all babies wake up! : )
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Funny Things
So you may wonder what happened to me... Lily is back, therefore- no naps by Hunter, except the 3 hour one he took the other day. So I am tired, cranky and annoyed with Hunter's nap strike. But whatever.
Here are some funny things that make me less annoyed with Hunter:
Yesterday we went to the coolest playground ever. It is in Mclean, Va- called Clemyjontri Park and is one of the only handicapped accessible playgrounds around. It was huge- with a foam ground, vibrant colors, tons of things for Hunter to play with and a carousel right in the middle of it. Awesomeness.
Hunter's response to awesomeness as he ran up and down the structures and around the playground: "Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh!" I couldn't agree more.
Today we started the work of cleaning our floors- we have a robotic vaccuum/mop that I got for Christmas last year. Jason told the robot named Scooba: "Good job, scooba!" Hunter now says: "G'job cooba!"
Another thing Hunter has learned to do recently: a new brand of manipulation. We are teaching Hunter the art of manners, among those to say please and thank you. You know how it goes- say please for what you want. Now when we ask Hunter to do something he doesn't want to do, or when he isn't being allowed to do what he wants- he'll say in this pitiful plaintive voice: "No! PleeASE!" And if we're actively attempting to stop or start his behavior- he adds: "Please! Stop Do That!" Sounds like us, only he's wrong and we're right. But he doesn't know that.
That's it for now- I have to save him from catapulting himself off the bed.
Here are some funny things that make me less annoyed with Hunter:
Yesterday we went to the coolest playground ever. It is in Mclean, Va- called Clemyjontri Park and is one of the only handicapped accessible playgrounds around. It was huge- with a foam ground, vibrant colors, tons of things for Hunter to play with and a carousel right in the middle of it. Awesomeness.
Hunter's response to awesomeness as he ran up and down the structures and around the playground: "Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh!" I couldn't agree more.
Today we started the work of cleaning our floors- we have a robotic vaccuum/mop that I got for Christmas last year. Jason told the robot named Scooba: "Good job, scooba!" Hunter now says: "G'job cooba!"
Another thing Hunter has learned to do recently: a new brand of manipulation. We are teaching Hunter the art of manners, among those to say please and thank you. You know how it goes- say please for what you want. Now when we ask Hunter to do something he doesn't want to do, or when he isn't being allowed to do what he wants- he'll say in this pitiful plaintive voice: "No! PleeASE!" And if we're actively attempting to stop or start his behavior- he adds: "Please! Stop Do That!" Sounds like us, only he's wrong and we're right. But he doesn't know that.
That's it for now- I have to save him from catapulting himself off the bed.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sleeping babies
Hunter is sleeping, and now that I'm back on Lily duty- I've got her snoozing away in the swing too. She was a little nutso today- not wanting her bottle and expressing that to the best of her tiny giganitic lungs' ability.
Hoping for a calmer afternoon.
Right now I'm resting on the bed with no pants on because I'm hot(weather- pick a season! I pick fall). And I just consumed a bag of buttered popcorn. Because I didn't have the fruit and yogurt smoothie option. Naturally. I have a coupon for a free McDonald's smoothie- might get one of those after Lily gets picked up.
I swear I've only gained 3-4 lbs. Maybe more now that I've eaten that bag of popcorn.
Jason cleaned the kitchen last night. I put new sheets on our bed and made the bed this morning. Baby steps toward a clean, livable house. Today was mother's day out again for Hunter- yea for us. I made the bad Mom mistake and packed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich- for a peanut-free facility. Oops. I will say no one ever gave me the damn welcome packet- so how was I supposed to know? I have it now. The offender.
Tomorrow is a day off and I am looking forward to doing something fun with Jason and Hunter... or just cleaning the house- whatever. I think the weather is supposed to be cooler tomorrow. Looking forward to that!
Something I thought of today while on the pot. (yes) I thought- wasn't it funny the first pregnancy when I was nervous that if I tried to poop too hard, I would poop the baby out? Then I thought, seriously- this came right to my head: You can't poop a baby out when you're pregnant, but when the baby is coming out, you'll probably poop! For 10 seconds I thought it was a worthy catch phrase for my up and coming pregnancy book that I'm not writing. Then I realized it was just really weird.
I feel like I should lie down while the babies are sleeping. I'm not that tired- but I could rest and stop having to stretch my back because I'm propped up by two flimsy pillows.
I'm going to do that.
Hoping for a calmer afternoon.
Right now I'm resting on the bed with no pants on because I'm hot(weather- pick a season! I pick fall). And I just consumed a bag of buttered popcorn. Because I didn't have the fruit and yogurt smoothie option. Naturally. I have a coupon for a free McDonald's smoothie- might get one of those after Lily gets picked up.
I swear I've only gained 3-4 lbs. Maybe more now that I've eaten that bag of popcorn.
Jason cleaned the kitchen last night. I put new sheets on our bed and made the bed this morning. Baby steps toward a clean, livable house. Today was mother's day out again for Hunter- yea for us. I made the bad Mom mistake and packed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich- for a peanut-free facility. Oops. I will say no one ever gave me the damn welcome packet- so how was I supposed to know? I have it now. The offender.
Tomorrow is a day off and I am looking forward to doing something fun with Jason and Hunter... or just cleaning the house- whatever. I think the weather is supposed to be cooler tomorrow. Looking forward to that!
Something I thought of today while on the pot. (yes) I thought- wasn't it funny the first pregnancy when I was nervous that if I tried to poop too hard, I would poop the baby out? Then I thought, seriously- this came right to my head: You can't poop a baby out when you're pregnant, but when the baby is coming out, you'll probably poop! For 10 seconds I thought it was a worthy catch phrase for my up and coming pregnancy book that I'm not writing. Then I realized it was just really weird.
I feel like I should lie down while the babies are sleeping. I'm not that tired- but I could rest and stop having to stretch my back because I'm propped up by two flimsy pillows.
I'm going to do that.
Monday, September 27, 2010
I'm pregnant
We're going to make this quick because Hunter just woke up from his nap.
I'm pregnant.
I'm tired.
My husband's awesome.
My husband's busy.
I'm more vegetarian with the occasional tuna and chicken now per Dr's suggestion.
I'm tired.
If you want to know what you can do for a woman in her first trimester- pay for someone to clean her house, if you can't afford that- get some friends together and surprise her with it. Not that I'm making any blatent requests- just saying if I had that many friends or that much money- I'd totally sponsor a clean house. Good to know for when I'm rich and famous. Or just rich.
I'm pregnant.
I'm loving the facebook blow up when I announce I'm pregnant. Facebook is the perfect way for an introvert to get some attention without the limelight. : )
um- my house is disgusting.
But I look cute. Other than this not-so-cute pudge I'm rocking. I haven't gained much weight but apparently people can "tell" I'm pregnant.
Never tell a pregnant woman that you were wondering if she was pregnant. It implies all sorts of bad things.
I never glowed- but it's sweet of people to say so.
OK- going to pee and get Hunter.
And I'm pregnant. : )
I'm pregnant.
I'm tired.
My husband's awesome.
My husband's busy.
I'm more vegetarian with the occasional tuna and chicken now per Dr's suggestion.
I'm tired.
If you want to know what you can do for a woman in her first trimester- pay for someone to clean her house, if you can't afford that- get some friends together and surprise her with it. Not that I'm making any blatent requests- just saying if I had that many friends or that much money- I'd totally sponsor a clean house. Good to know for when I'm rich and famous. Or just rich.
I'm pregnant.
I'm loving the facebook blow up when I announce I'm pregnant. Facebook is the perfect way for an introvert to get some attention without the limelight. : )
um- my house is disgusting.
But I look cute. Other than this not-so-cute pudge I'm rocking. I haven't gained much weight but apparently people can "tell" I'm pregnant.
Never tell a pregnant woman that you were wondering if she was pregnant. It implies all sorts of bad things.
I never glowed- but it's sweet of people to say so.
OK- going to pee and get Hunter.
And I'm pregnant. : )
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Church
Yes- such an original title. I went to church today- of course that's not exciting details coming from the pastor's wife who "goes" to church nearly every day. But I'm cheating on my church. I am attending other local churches during the 11 o clock hour to try and find a UCC (united church of christ, remember?) church that strikes my fancy. You know, so I can join and get ordained and be a chaplain- 12 years down the road.
I went to a church this morning that was a little bit of a drive, but a little more established than the one I went to last week. I was late getting off (more about that later) so I drove up to the church about 10-15 after 11. This wouldn't have been so bad if I knew where I was going. The church had no parking lot. I repeat- zero off street parking. Would have been nice to know. So I drove another 2 minutes looking for legal parking options. Mind you- I also am not entirely convinced of where the entrance is- so I take a guess, take a breath and hope I'm not running face first into the baptistry or something. Lucky me- I enter through the back of the church during the "passing of the peace" which is a friendly time for late-comers to find a seat- oh and for people to greet one another in peace. I find my friend who was meeting me there- all the way up in the 3rd row- which is totally where I would have sat if I wasn't 20 minutes late. We all sit, stand, sing, read, and have a nice time. The general atmosphere is nice- the congregation is not surprisingly very vanilla (maybe 4 people of ethnicity other than white in the group of 200). The reason why I say not surprisingly is because of the neighborhood that this little church is nestled in: niiice. I mean uppity nice. Nice uppity- no lion sculptures at the entrance to the mansion- but nice. So yea- when driving to the church, I'm passing the lexus' and the obama stickers and feeling pretty much like I've pegged the place- and I kinda did.
The sermon was... interesting. Let me back up. The entire service and the entire experience was interesting. It was one of those few times in my church experiences that I could say I agreed with nearly everything spoken and written. And I felt really weird. If you don't get it- neither did I. How could I be in a place with sound theology and well-crafted words and not feel like I was home? Well- I think I kinda missed the crazies. Wait- let me rephrase- I missed the poles. I missed the liberals sitting next to the conservatives. I missed the obamas sitting next to the palins, I missed the rich sitting next to the poor. This rarely happens in one church setting- but sometimes if that church is open and authentic enough- there is space for a far wider range than one might expect.
This is what was weird about this church- it was a bunch of white people with great ideals and theologies who believed in social justice. And it felt a little stale. Maybe I'm passing judgment too quickly- I probably am- but even the sermon felt this way. I'll explain. The title of the sermon was "Is Liberation Theology Christian?" Wow- let me tell you- it was stock full of historical and theological information- much of which I learned in my seminary classes- none of which I ever expected to hear, at least in this format, from the pulpit. I couldn't remember whether I was in church or class, at seminary chapel or a local congregation. It was weird. The content of the sermon itself was well articulated, good stuff, and way over the heads of a lot of people. The preacher made a lot of assumptions with her presentation: everyone here is highly intelligent, everyone here is interested in theological concepts, everyone here is liberal, everyone here is social justice oriented. It was weird- I felt like it was too much. She lost my friend- not because she isn't smart- but because she didn't connect with her.
I came home to talk with Jason about this weird experience- not knowing exactly why I didn't connect with this church that had everything "right." We both agreed that the pulpit provides many teaching moments- but the point of the sermon is to present scripture in a way that comes alive for the congregation- to include visitors!
So yea- next week I go back to the tiny, yet authentic church and weigh my options. The following week I will give rich church another chance- the Senior Pastor didn't preach this week- so I'd like to see how her flavor goes.
In my opinion (I won't fake it and call it humble) church is not about agreeing, unified theology, or even unified action. It's about a community of believers who are working together to be the church, in diverse, unified, and complicated ways.
Church is also the place where it is super fun to spread the news that we are pregnant! Jason announced today that we are expecting our 2nd baby child April 19th! :) (don't you love how I snuck that in). I am feeling pretty decent- the tiredness is definitely there and I feel fat already. Nothing like a church community where news travels fast and joy spreads! More on this tomorrow!
PS- getting love from church members is why I was late to the other church. :)
I went to a church this morning that was a little bit of a drive, but a little more established than the one I went to last week. I was late getting off (more about that later) so I drove up to the church about 10-15 after 11. This wouldn't have been so bad if I knew where I was going. The church had no parking lot. I repeat- zero off street parking. Would have been nice to know. So I drove another 2 minutes looking for legal parking options. Mind you- I also am not entirely convinced of where the entrance is- so I take a guess, take a breath and hope I'm not running face first into the baptistry or something. Lucky me- I enter through the back of the church during the "passing of the peace" which is a friendly time for late-comers to find a seat- oh and for people to greet one another in peace. I find my friend who was meeting me there- all the way up in the 3rd row- which is totally where I would have sat if I wasn't 20 minutes late. We all sit, stand, sing, read, and have a nice time. The general atmosphere is nice- the congregation is not surprisingly very vanilla (maybe 4 people of ethnicity other than white in the group of 200). The reason why I say not surprisingly is because of the neighborhood that this little church is nestled in: niiice. I mean uppity nice. Nice uppity- no lion sculptures at the entrance to the mansion- but nice. So yea- when driving to the church, I'm passing the lexus' and the obama stickers and feeling pretty much like I've pegged the place- and I kinda did.
The sermon was... interesting. Let me back up. The entire service and the entire experience was interesting. It was one of those few times in my church experiences that I could say I agreed with nearly everything spoken and written. And I felt really weird. If you don't get it- neither did I. How could I be in a place with sound theology and well-crafted words and not feel like I was home? Well- I think I kinda missed the crazies. Wait- let me rephrase- I missed the poles. I missed the liberals sitting next to the conservatives. I missed the obamas sitting next to the palins, I missed the rich sitting next to the poor. This rarely happens in one church setting- but sometimes if that church is open and authentic enough- there is space for a far wider range than one might expect.
This is what was weird about this church- it was a bunch of white people with great ideals and theologies who believed in social justice. And it felt a little stale. Maybe I'm passing judgment too quickly- I probably am- but even the sermon felt this way. I'll explain. The title of the sermon was "Is Liberation Theology Christian?" Wow- let me tell you- it was stock full of historical and theological information- much of which I learned in my seminary classes- none of which I ever expected to hear, at least in this format, from the pulpit. I couldn't remember whether I was in church or class, at seminary chapel or a local congregation. It was weird. The content of the sermon itself was well articulated, good stuff, and way over the heads of a lot of people. The preacher made a lot of assumptions with her presentation: everyone here is highly intelligent, everyone here is interested in theological concepts, everyone here is liberal, everyone here is social justice oriented. It was weird- I felt like it was too much. She lost my friend- not because she isn't smart- but because she didn't connect with her.
I came home to talk with Jason about this weird experience- not knowing exactly why I didn't connect with this church that had everything "right." We both agreed that the pulpit provides many teaching moments- but the point of the sermon is to present scripture in a way that comes alive for the congregation- to include visitors!
So yea- next week I go back to the tiny, yet authentic church and weigh my options. The following week I will give rich church another chance- the Senior Pastor didn't preach this week- so I'd like to see how her flavor goes.
In my opinion (I won't fake it and call it humble) church is not about agreeing, unified theology, or even unified action. It's about a community of believers who are working together to be the church, in diverse, unified, and complicated ways.
Church is also the place where it is super fun to spread the news that we are pregnant! Jason announced today that we are expecting our 2nd baby child April 19th! :) (don't you love how I snuck that in). I am feeling pretty decent- the tiredness is definitely there and I feel fat already. Nothing like a church community where news travels fast and joy spreads! More on this tomorrow!
PS- getting love from church members is why I was late to the other church. :)
Saturday, September 25, 2010
breaking down
So no one broke down- but my resolve is breaking a little bit. I am so overwhelmed by the house at this point that I don't know where to start. I'm nearing the point that drives Jason crazy, when I start talking in ultimatum terms of extreme conditions. I say things like: "we have too much shit." "You need to get rid of half your stuff." "We need to donate half of everything we own." "The house is disgusting." "Why do you have so much of your work shit lying around?"
These are apparently not helpful comments. I tend to get a little crazy and military brat on him. I call this the military brat syndrome, where if you haven't moved in the last 3.5 years- you suddenly feel the urge to purge your stuff- and if you let it go too far- you can start purging friends too. Luckily for Jason, the military brat syndrom includes a fierce loyalty to family- so he and Hunter are safe from the purge.
Hunter took a short nap today because he's got a cold- poor thing. I got a nap too- thankfully. Jason has a wedding tonight, so I'm writing this blog as Hunter dreams up ways to be crazy. Fun times. On that note- and with Hunter crawling on me. I'm going to sign off for today.
These are apparently not helpful comments. I tend to get a little crazy and military brat on him. I call this the military brat syndrome, where if you haven't moved in the last 3.5 years- you suddenly feel the urge to purge your stuff- and if you let it go too far- you can start purging friends too. Luckily for Jason, the military brat syndrom includes a fierce loyalty to family- so he and Hunter are safe from the purge.
Hunter took a short nap today because he's got a cold- poor thing. I got a nap too- thankfully. Jason has a wedding tonight, so I'm writing this blog as Hunter dreams up ways to be crazy. Fun times. On that note- and with Hunter crawling on me. I'm going to sign off for today.
Friday, September 24, 2010
done and done
There's nothing like getting those pesky items at the bottom of your to do list done. I saved myself $16.90 today and cancelled any chances of being overcharged in the future by two companies. Nice. I paid a speeding ticket online (bastard speed trap), I deposited a check (thank you church for paying me to do childcare), and I recently viewed the latest Harry Potter trailer (near tears of happiness over that one).
Today Hunter took a 1.5 hr nap, yesterday he took a nearly 3 hr nap. And I got way more done today- go figure.
I'm wiped now and Jason is off to do a wedding rehearsal in DC. This week has been insane for him (and likewise for me) and I'm really looking forward to a poptentially calmer week next week. At this point all I want to do is sleep in one day- and nothing- nada. He's getting up to do mulch delivery with the United Methodist men tomorrow, Sunday is church and then we're back to the grind again. The good news is that I might get to sleep in on Wednesday.
I sent off for my transcript from Auburn yesterday (all part of the substitute teaching process)- hopefully they will do a quick turn around. They are ancient in their dealings with this stuff- I had to print out and mail the form- and they will mail me the transcript. Seriously- what happened to electronic processing? The good news is that it's free- which was nice of them to do. I guess they want all Auburn grads to get jobs if they can!
Jason and I are doing well and horribly on our new budget. We've probably spent about 3/4 of our budget already, but we're also getting in more money. We're sticking to our guns about eating out- both of us have only eaten out once in the last two weeks- and both for "business" reasons. Jason has his wedding this weekend- so that should bring in about $200 hopefully. We've been good about eating leftovers, etc- and I think (hope) our food will last longer. So we may have spent a fortune at the grocery store, but it might last us a while and my hope is that some of the "base ingredients" will last for a long while and our first grocery trip can be seen as an investment... a large one. : )
Ok- so this was a first: Hunter came up to me and said "poopy," then started walking towards his room and saying "change a diaper!" Wow. So I hopped to it! Maybe potty training isn't that far away! : )
One last thing, then I'm signing off... My house is disgusting. Dirty. Messy. Gross. This is the shittiest thing about our new budget: no cleaning folks. Unfortunately we really are bare bones, or I'd skip a meal or something to get them back. I told my older sister Kelly that I envied her cleaning gene. I didn't get it. Jason didn't get it- so here we are living in our mess with little skill and motivation to deal with it. We will- but in the meantime I'm going to whine about it and fantasize about winning just enough money to justify getting that crew back in here.
Today Hunter took a 1.5 hr nap, yesterday he took a nearly 3 hr nap. And I got way more done today- go figure.
I'm wiped now and Jason is off to do a wedding rehearsal in DC. This week has been insane for him (and likewise for me) and I'm really looking forward to a poptentially calmer week next week. At this point all I want to do is sleep in one day- and nothing- nada. He's getting up to do mulch delivery with the United Methodist men tomorrow, Sunday is church and then we're back to the grind again. The good news is that I might get to sleep in on Wednesday.
I sent off for my transcript from Auburn yesterday (all part of the substitute teaching process)- hopefully they will do a quick turn around. They are ancient in their dealings with this stuff- I had to print out and mail the form- and they will mail me the transcript. Seriously- what happened to electronic processing? The good news is that it's free- which was nice of them to do. I guess they want all Auburn grads to get jobs if they can!
Jason and I are doing well and horribly on our new budget. We've probably spent about 3/4 of our budget already, but we're also getting in more money. We're sticking to our guns about eating out- both of us have only eaten out once in the last two weeks- and both for "business" reasons. Jason has his wedding this weekend- so that should bring in about $200 hopefully. We've been good about eating leftovers, etc- and I think (hope) our food will last longer. So we may have spent a fortune at the grocery store, but it might last us a while and my hope is that some of the "base ingredients" will last for a long while and our first grocery trip can be seen as an investment... a large one. : )
Ok- so this was a first: Hunter came up to me and said "poopy," then started walking towards his room and saying "change a diaper!" Wow. So I hopped to it! Maybe potty training isn't that far away! : )
One last thing, then I'm signing off... My house is disgusting. Dirty. Messy. Gross. This is the shittiest thing about our new budget: no cleaning folks. Unfortunately we really are bare bones, or I'd skip a meal or something to get them back. I told my older sister Kelly that I envied her cleaning gene. I didn't get it. Jason didn't get it- so here we are living in our mess with little skill and motivation to deal with it. We will- but in the meantime I'm going to whine about it and fantasize about winning just enough money to justify getting that crew back in here.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
School
I love school. Not just for myself- but now for my son. No- he's not in kindergarten- he's just wearing their clothes. He's part of a mother's day out program that is freaking fantastic. He goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 930-130 and eats lunch there! He loves it. Here's how I know why: this morning I told him he was going to school- and he seemed glad, but the true excitement showed up in his actions. After I got him dressed- I ran and put on some jeans and a tshirt (no shower yet) to be presentable enough to drop him off. I figured he would run and play with his train table- but I didn't hear him, so I went to look for him before I made his lunch. There he was- at the door- one hand on the door and one hand on his backback. It was so so cute. Of course he stood there the whole time I was making his lunch- so we left early and played around at the entrance before we could go in. He strolled right into his classroom- with his rolly-bag backback rolling behind him (he loves pulling his backpack around). No turning back- no goodbye - certainly no tears. Love it.
Ah. Another random note- inspired by a church friend- I am going to plant a winter garden! Kale, collards, lettuce, spinach- exciting! Then maybe we can eat fresh from our garden! How much better does it get? Hopefully I can succeed. I'm going to do it this Saturday- maybe Hunter will enjoy it.
Oh yea- so during Hunter's morning out- I had a mother's morning in. I got absolutely nothing done, but I feel like a human being. Worth every wasted second. I took a bath (I haven't done that in months). I shaved my legs (let's just say I was due). I washed and did my hair (blowdry, straighten- with more than 15 minutes- I made myself look nice!) I even read a chapter and a half of The Wealthy Barber. This is an actually enjoyable financial planning book- on loan from my father. : ) I put on a dress that didn't make me feel fat and put a little make up on and voila- human. Attractive even!
Now I'm going to mail for my college transcript so that I can be a substitute! And I'm going to send my Grandmother a letter- Thursday is my day! : )
Ah. Another random note- inspired by a church friend- I am going to plant a winter garden! Kale, collards, lettuce, spinach- exciting! Then maybe we can eat fresh from our garden! How much better does it get? Hopefully I can succeed. I'm going to do it this Saturday- maybe Hunter will enjoy it.
Oh yea- so during Hunter's morning out- I had a mother's morning in. I got absolutely nothing done, but I feel like a human being. Worth every wasted second. I took a bath (I haven't done that in months). I shaved my legs (let's just say I was due). I washed and did my hair (blowdry, straighten- with more than 15 minutes- I made myself look nice!) I even read a chapter and a half of The Wealthy Barber. This is an actually enjoyable financial planning book- on loan from my father. : ) I put on a dress that didn't make me feel fat and put a little make up on and voila- human. Attractive even!
Now I'm going to mail for my college transcript so that I can be a substitute! And I'm going to send my Grandmother a letter- Thursday is my day! : )
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Life Plan
Yes, so I have one. Sort of. I don't know about other people, but I have an innate need to plan my life out. I know for a fact that 95% of these plans are changed or altered or completely ignored. I don't care. I just need a path, a plan, an idea.
So here's my current road: I'm doing the vegan thing for food. That's going ok- I have cheated but I'll write more about that later when I unpack this whole vegan process. Needless to say- it has shifted my focus onto much better food- and that is successful enough for now. I did feel horrible when I screwed up the timing of dinner and forgot that I was working childcare at the church last night- so basically no dinner was made and we did a quicky soup heat up. Jason was starving and ran out and got "vegan" popsicles (with no nutritional value) and "vegan" cookies (although upon a closer look they weren't) and we ate our "vegan" weight in both. So yea- make dinner filling. Another day another try.
So we've covered food. Job- this is kind of huge and I owe my recent revelation to my good friend Nancy who has an uncanny way of seeing truth, logic, and the "duh" and is happy to share it if you give her room. So she did- and it really was a "duh" moment for me. I was telling her how I had a contact in the working world and was holding off on applying to be a substitute (in the local school system, of which half the administration and teaching faculty seem to attend our church). Nancy said the first logical thing, which was essentially "why are you holding back on an open door? You have to chase every lead!" She was right. Then even she discovered just how right she was. I mentioned that 2 things were in my mind: 1) We could be pregnant at any point now, and 2) We could move. In my mind- I wanted a job that would give me some benefits through paid maternity leave and also one that wouldn't be totally mad if I moved. Nancy then pointed out the obvious: most places don't pay your maternity leave until you work there at least a year, if that, so don't count on that benefit ever- AND if I do have a baby AND move within the year- why am I trying to get a "real" job? Do I really want to go back to work when the baby is 4 weeks old?
Good point.
And here's what made me able to hear this logic: A) Jason and I recently reworked our budget and are trying to see if we can live on his salary- it'll be really tight, but if we know we can do that- than anything I make is insurance! B) I really really really don't want to leave a 4 week old baby at home. C) I have a long-term goal- so we can make the short term work to get what I want.
What do I want? (other than to be rich and not worry about this at all- and happily pay more taxes) I want to be home with my newborn- whenever that is. I want to have the flexibility to take a sick day or a vacation without it counting against me. I want to have the ability to make some money and feel like I am contributing to my family and my community. I want to be able to work towards a long-term goal without exhausting myself with the short-term survival method. Substituting just might be the ultimate answer! So there's that.
What's my long term goal? Other than being a famous author (yea- I should make a plan for that)... I am looking into chaplaincy. I hesitate even to say I want to be one, because I don't know if I can give myself that much credit yet. Chaplaincy is hard! In order to become a chaplain- I basically have to do 2 major things: Get ordained and take 4 units of CPE. Translation for those who are not surrounded my seminarians (ppl who went to divinity school)- I need to do a boatload of hours as an intern as a hospital chaplain (by boatload I mean maybe up to 4 years!). I need to pick a denomination, then attend, then join, then start the process of ordination- and this could take 2-4 years as well.
I have: attended a UCC church (United church of Christ- the cool progressive people who don't hate gay people and believe that God is still speaking in this world). I chose this denomination because I've been infatuated with them since I was in seminary. Some cool facts: they were the first denomination to ordain women, african-americans, gay people, and they have often been in the front of the line of churches when figuring out social justice issues (for example, they figured out that slavery was bad long before many other denominations). I was inspired to become a part of a group that seems to have a knack for getting it.
So last week I went to a teeny tiny church with maybe 15 people and it was totally great and scary. The tiny part makes me nervous- because to be involved means to be completely visible and not able to hide. Cool points: there were at least 4 different races, all ages and gay and straight- this diverse demographic represented in just 15-20 people! Our church of 2000 barely accomplishes that! This week I'm going to another UCC church that is a little more established and big- so I'll let you know how that goes.
Ok- I'm exhausted and I'm sure you're bored. There's my life plan. Soon I will tell you how I feel about it. ; )
So here's my current road: I'm doing the vegan thing for food. That's going ok- I have cheated but I'll write more about that later when I unpack this whole vegan process. Needless to say- it has shifted my focus onto much better food- and that is successful enough for now. I did feel horrible when I screwed up the timing of dinner and forgot that I was working childcare at the church last night- so basically no dinner was made and we did a quicky soup heat up. Jason was starving and ran out and got "vegan" popsicles (with no nutritional value) and "vegan" cookies (although upon a closer look they weren't) and we ate our "vegan" weight in both. So yea- make dinner filling. Another day another try.
So we've covered food. Job- this is kind of huge and I owe my recent revelation to my good friend Nancy who has an uncanny way of seeing truth, logic, and the "duh" and is happy to share it if you give her room. So she did- and it really was a "duh" moment for me. I was telling her how I had a contact in the working world and was holding off on applying to be a substitute (in the local school system, of which half the administration and teaching faculty seem to attend our church). Nancy said the first logical thing, which was essentially "why are you holding back on an open door? You have to chase every lead!" She was right. Then even she discovered just how right she was. I mentioned that 2 things were in my mind: 1) We could be pregnant at any point now, and 2) We could move. In my mind- I wanted a job that would give me some benefits through paid maternity leave and also one that wouldn't be totally mad if I moved. Nancy then pointed out the obvious: most places don't pay your maternity leave until you work there at least a year, if that, so don't count on that benefit ever- AND if I do have a baby AND move within the year- why am I trying to get a "real" job? Do I really want to go back to work when the baby is 4 weeks old?
Good point.
And here's what made me able to hear this logic: A) Jason and I recently reworked our budget and are trying to see if we can live on his salary- it'll be really tight, but if we know we can do that- than anything I make is insurance! B) I really really really don't want to leave a 4 week old baby at home. C) I have a long-term goal- so we can make the short term work to get what I want.
What do I want? (other than to be rich and not worry about this at all- and happily pay more taxes) I want to be home with my newborn- whenever that is. I want to have the flexibility to take a sick day or a vacation without it counting against me. I want to have the ability to make some money and feel like I am contributing to my family and my community. I want to be able to work towards a long-term goal without exhausting myself with the short-term survival method. Substituting just might be the ultimate answer! So there's that.
What's my long term goal? Other than being a famous author (yea- I should make a plan for that)... I am looking into chaplaincy. I hesitate even to say I want to be one, because I don't know if I can give myself that much credit yet. Chaplaincy is hard! In order to become a chaplain- I basically have to do 2 major things: Get ordained and take 4 units of CPE. Translation for those who are not surrounded my seminarians (ppl who went to divinity school)- I need to do a boatload of hours as an intern as a hospital chaplain (by boatload I mean maybe up to 4 years!). I need to pick a denomination, then attend, then join, then start the process of ordination- and this could take 2-4 years as well.
I have: attended a UCC church (United church of Christ- the cool progressive people who don't hate gay people and believe that God is still speaking in this world). I chose this denomination because I've been infatuated with them since I was in seminary. Some cool facts: they were the first denomination to ordain women, african-americans, gay people, and they have often been in the front of the line of churches when figuring out social justice issues (for example, they figured out that slavery was bad long before many other denominations). I was inspired to become a part of a group that seems to have a knack for getting it.
So last week I went to a teeny tiny church with maybe 15 people and it was totally great and scary. The tiny part makes me nervous- because to be involved means to be completely visible and not able to hide. Cool points: there were at least 4 different races, all ages and gay and straight- this diverse demographic represented in just 15-20 people! Our church of 2000 barely accomplishes that! This week I'm going to another UCC church that is a little more established and big- so I'll let you know how that goes.
Ok- I'm exhausted and I'm sure you're bored. There's my life plan. Soon I will tell you how I feel about it. ; )
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Success and Rest
Today Hunter has his first day of Mother's Day Out- I'm trying to call it school so he gets used to the idea and connects the positive experiences to the term. Hunter didn't even bother to say goodbye. I dropped him off and the teacher said "Hi Hunter, are you going to play with us today?" He promptly responded "Yesth." and ran right in. Love it. I am also taking this week off of nannying because Lily's grandma is in town and Jason and I are trying to live under his salary alone (at least in budget) to see if it's possible. I believe it is possible- but what we have to discern is if it is worth it. The job search is on and I will take what comes along if it works.
In other news, my first true new vegan recipe last night was a success! I may have overdone the garlic (is that possible?) because I woke up this morning with a garlic taste in my mouth. Vampires, away! Here are the ingredients: brown rice, asparagus, garbanzo beans (or chickpeas is another name for it), onions, olive oil, garlic, sea salt, a homemade tahini sauce with tahini, garlic, lemon zest and juice (I threw the exhausted lemons down the garbage disposal which took care of some weird smell that was lingering), and... olive oil. Super yummy- have enough to feed the whole family two more times. Jason enjoyed it minus the tahini sauce plus soy sauce, I enjoyed it much, Hunter even grabbed a couple finger fulls of rice and even stomached a couple pieces of asparagus by accident! It was a success! And I was full for the entire evening.
It's almost time for me to turn around and head back to get Hunter. I'll close with this thought: IT IS REALLY NICE OUTSIDE! love love love fall.
In other news, my first true new vegan recipe last night was a success! I may have overdone the garlic (is that possible?) because I woke up this morning with a garlic taste in my mouth. Vampires, away! Here are the ingredients: brown rice, asparagus, garbanzo beans (or chickpeas is another name for it), onions, olive oil, garlic, sea salt, a homemade tahini sauce with tahini, garlic, lemon zest and juice (I threw the exhausted lemons down the garbage disposal which took care of some weird smell that was lingering), and... olive oil. Super yummy- have enough to feed the whole family two more times. Jason enjoyed it minus the tahini sauce plus soy sauce, I enjoyed it much, Hunter even grabbed a couple finger fulls of rice and even stomached a couple pieces of asparagus by accident! It was a success! And I was full for the entire evening.
It's almost time for me to turn around and head back to get Hunter. I'll close with this thought: IT IS REALLY NICE OUTSIDE! love love love fall.
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