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.

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)

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.

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!

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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! : )

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.