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.