This blog is once again written on borrowed time (Hunter is napping). I had a discussion with my husband last night- and among other things I somehow came to the ultimate conclusion that I don't fit in this world. Before everyone tells me how loved I am- that is not what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about the American Dream and how I really hate it. The American dream is the idea that if you work hard enough and perservere- you can accomplish anything- and the sacrifices and toil that lead to success are praiseworthy and bring integrity and prestige. In my words: workaholics and smoozers are our kings and queens. I think at one point the idea of being able to accomplish what seemed impossible was a wonderful thing. I don't knock that. My problem is the pace and intensity with which the expectation to follow the American Dream has come into play. No one is ever satisfied. Joy has been sucked out of living. Doing and achieving are the new moral norms of goodness. Success = goodness.
I am the kind of person who would like to measure her time by hours and days. In our culture, people measure time by minutes and seconds. I cannot live in seconds. I cannot have joy in seconds. And yet, in order to survive, in order to have even enough success to live above the poverty line (unless of course, you were screwed from the beginning), you have to race in seconds.
Even if you're lucky and you do what you love or have a working environment that respects boundaries, time, etc.- it is still the honorable thing to be told to go home. It still has been ingrained in us to feel guilty to ask for a day off. It is still a power over someone else if you're the one working overtime or achieving overtime. These ideas are all so so so SO normal to everyone else but me.
And this is why I feel like I don't fit. I want to water plants and measure their growths in days and weeks. I want to develop relationships and cultivate a craft and meaure my growth in joy and shared sorrow. But I won't get paid and I won't get ahead and I need to have a clean house and a fit body before I can have time for joy.
I need Sabbath, and I'm starting to realize that people around me don't understand the concept, much less think they need it. In the American culture- Sabbath is for weak people. Sabbath is a pause to get energy to do it all again. We are made to be productive.... and in that undertanding- I feel like a failure. I have to remind myself again and again that it just might be possible that I'm not. It just might be possible that God works in months and years, and I'm too fast.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Men
OK- so I probably won't be able to write this whole post because I was too busy reading other posts! but here we go...
I have decided to do a new method of cleaning up- read: decluttering. I decided not to stress with the big project mentaliy of getting a room done in a day (because it's impossible now) but to slowly but surely every day remove things I notice and put them where they go (trash or otherwise). This is not a foolproof plan because most of our clutter is some form of reading material and I read everything I see. If you wrote on toilet paper- I'd read the whole thing before I wiped my butt. So decluttering in spurts ends up risking that I am on the floor with a pile of magazines, catching up on the latest recipe I'm never going to cook.
My point... oh yea- so I found an old journal/devotional book that is in a pile on my dresser- and it has been staring at me saying: you should read me and be a better Christian. So I picked it up before my shower and read a couple of pages. Note about myself: my theology has changed back and forth through the years, but mainly I have settled at least into a galaxy of thought. I have plenty of miles to explore, and will never see it all- but I might say I have found my home. All that to say- I used to be in another galaxy, and this journal is from that place. One of my weird things is that I like to use different names/genders/etc to describe God. For me- it helps me keep the sense of big-ness, surpassing understanding, if I don't resort to the same ol "he/Father." This is not to say that those terms are bad - they just aren't as helpful to me. SO- this journal has all sorts of "He, Himself, Father, His" and very little else- it kind of starts rubbing on me. Then I get to the devotion I am blogging about: it's about being thankful to your husbands (the journal is geared toward women). Quick statement: I love my husband and REALLY appreciate him. So much- that this devotion offended me FOR him. Basically it says we should write him a note or think of some creative way to show our appreciation- very nice, good thought. Then the author gets screwy. She talks about how we should appreciate our hubby when "he takes us out to dinner when he'd rather collapse on the sofa," we should thank him for "sending you roses even though they make his nose itch," and my favorite: "who spends Saturday afternoon watching your offspring play soccer when the football game on television beckons him."
I'm sorry - and earmuffs to those sensitive- but what the freakin hell?
Hunter cries when Jason leaves the room and people are surprised. WHY? Because he is a good father and spends time with his child? I appreciate all of the things Jason does- but as far as being a nurturing father and husband- I expect it too. Just like anyone would expect me to be a nurturing mother. Why is it so earth-shattering when a man cares?
ugh. OK- I have to go. But my bottom line is this: it's not the men that are annoying me this time- It's the women who give them no credit.
I have decided to do a new method of cleaning up- read: decluttering. I decided not to stress with the big project mentaliy of getting a room done in a day (because it's impossible now) but to slowly but surely every day remove things I notice and put them where they go (trash or otherwise). This is not a foolproof plan because most of our clutter is some form of reading material and I read everything I see. If you wrote on toilet paper- I'd read the whole thing before I wiped my butt. So decluttering in spurts ends up risking that I am on the floor with a pile of magazines, catching up on the latest recipe I'm never going to cook.
My point... oh yea- so I found an old journal/devotional book that is in a pile on my dresser- and it has been staring at me saying: you should read me and be a better Christian. So I picked it up before my shower and read a couple of pages. Note about myself: my theology has changed back and forth through the years, but mainly I have settled at least into a galaxy of thought. I have plenty of miles to explore, and will never see it all- but I might say I have found my home. All that to say- I used to be in another galaxy, and this journal is from that place. One of my weird things is that I like to use different names/genders/etc to describe God. For me- it helps me keep the sense of big-ness, surpassing understanding, if I don't resort to the same ol "he/Father." This is not to say that those terms are bad - they just aren't as helpful to me. SO- this journal has all sorts of "He, Himself, Father, His" and very little else- it kind of starts rubbing on me. Then I get to the devotion I am blogging about: it's about being thankful to your husbands (the journal is geared toward women). Quick statement: I love my husband and REALLY appreciate him. So much- that this devotion offended me FOR him. Basically it says we should write him a note or think of some creative way to show our appreciation- very nice, good thought. Then the author gets screwy. She talks about how we should appreciate our hubby when "he takes us out to dinner when he'd rather collapse on the sofa," we should thank him for "sending you roses even though they make his nose itch," and my favorite: "who spends Saturday afternoon watching your offspring play soccer when the football game on television beckons him."
I'm sorry - and earmuffs to those sensitive- but what the freakin hell?
Hunter cries when Jason leaves the room and people are surprised. WHY? Because he is a good father and spends time with his child? I appreciate all of the things Jason does- but as far as being a nurturing father and husband- I expect it too. Just like anyone would expect me to be a nurturing mother. Why is it so earth-shattering when a man cares?
ugh. OK- I have to go. But my bottom line is this: it's not the men that are annoying me this time- It's the women who give them no credit.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Note from Grandmother
I just had to share this. The following is a note from my Grandmother, she had given me a check to cover the cost of mailing a few packages...
***************
Sarah,
Would you or Jason please mail these for me? This should be enough to cover postage. If not, let me know. Hopefully, this is enough to buy you a "lolly pop" : )
***************
I just think the whole world needs to have a Grandmother who invites them to buy a lolly pop at 27 years old.
***************
Sarah,
Would you or Jason please mail these for me? This should be enough to cover postage. If not, let me know. Hopefully, this is enough to buy you a "lolly pop" : )
***************
I just think the whole world needs to have a Grandmother who invites them to buy a lolly pop at 27 years old.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Things I said...
...to my 7 month old today:
"You look like a monster."
"biting is not ok now that you have teeth."
"Sleeping is for winners."
"Crawling is a great thing."
"Crawling during nap time is not a good idea."
"Naptime makes everyone happy."
"Open your mouth and eat your mixed vegetables."
"Don't vomit."
"Thank God you finally are taking a nap!"
And so off I go to take a shower... finally.
"You look like a monster."
"biting is not ok now that you have teeth."
"Sleeping is for winners."
"Crawling is a great thing."
"Crawling during nap time is not a good idea."
"Naptime makes everyone happy."
"Open your mouth and eat your mixed vegetables."
"Don't vomit."
"Thank God you finally are taking a nap!"
And so off I go to take a shower... finally.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The Deaf Card
This is a phrase that my older sister and I coined when it comes to getting what we want via our deafness (hearing impairedment, really)- aka- playing the "deaf card." We rarely play the deaf card, but there are instances once in a rare while when the trump card comes out.
Examples of when we might find it appropriate to use the deaf card:
When we had college professors that didn't speak English. Deaf people are the only ones who seem to get their way when it comes to language barriers (not fair, I know)- so we pulled the deaf card and got the only math teacher from southern Georgia (the state, not the country).
When our teachers mistakenly only gave an oral cue for a homework assignment or to be quiet, etc etc. We really didn't hear it! The deaf card.
When our husbands tell us they've told us before. The deaf card.
To keep the deaf card valuable, it usually is based on fact of deafness (we don't pull it falsely) and is kept only for special occasions (we may incur a false penalty and just deal with it so as not to overuse the deaf card). It has been a while since I've pulled the deaf card. Today I had to play it in a way that made me oddly aware of the whole deaf part.
My husband mentioned in passing that he would be leaving after a meeting on Monday night to head to his conference that is Tuesday-Thursday. This is news to me. I thought he was leaving Tuesday morning and so wasn't concerned because my mother is coming Tuesday morning. This brought on some real frustration and, hidden deep down inside, fear for me. We had a little fight about the timing of it all when he checked and realized that he was in fact leaving Tuesday morning and all was well. I had already pulled the deaf card at this point.
Here was the argument: Jason was frustrated that I was freaking out about the whole thing at all because he has been attempting to get me to try our baby monitors on vibrate (the reason we got that model) so that I could be home alone at night with Hunter. Hunter sleeps through the night at this point, so the only real kicker would be what time he decides to get up in the morning. The monitor won't hold a charge for a whole night, so essentially I would have to set my alarm for a certain time in the morning and do the monitor thing and hope to get back to sleep. Those are the things I said to Jason. Plus I told him that I wouldn't be able to sleep well the whole night, knowing I might be missing something and obsession over whether he was asleep or awake. I could sleep with my hearing aids in, I guess, but they would whistle and I would have a restless sleep still.
Here is what I didn't say to Jason (I will, don't worry you therapists- I just took a while to realize where I am): I am scared out of my mind of having someone dependent on me when I don't know if they can be. That is why I have avoided the whole baby monitor practice thing, that is why I always seem to have someone with me when Jason is out of town. I'm avoiding my fear. I don't want to deal with it at all, and was hoping not to have to until Hunter was sleeping in and could get up and wake me up if he needed to (which is in two years??). And because I haven't communicated this to Jason, his annoyance with me is misinterpreted (by me) as a lack of compassion. I know he can't understand my fear, and sometimes I worry that he resents my dependance. THIS is the revelation of my deaf card pull today- and it was not pretty. I felt momentarily like I was somehow less capable or able to be a mother simply because I can't hear at night. This I know to be false, and as I've said countless times, deaf people have kids- so it's possible- but I never faced the fear or the reality of figuring out how to do it myself.
So I suppose I have to go tell this to Jason, get more comfortable with the monitor thing or keep my hearing aids in, etc. I have to face my fear. I have to figure it out. I can't play the deaf card this time- it played me!
Examples of when we might find it appropriate to use the deaf card:
When we had college professors that didn't speak English. Deaf people are the only ones who seem to get their way when it comes to language barriers (not fair, I know)- so we pulled the deaf card and got the only math teacher from southern Georgia (the state, not the country).
When our teachers mistakenly only gave an oral cue for a homework assignment or to be quiet, etc etc. We really didn't hear it! The deaf card.
When our husbands tell us they've told us before. The deaf card.
To keep the deaf card valuable, it usually is based on fact of deafness (we don't pull it falsely) and is kept only for special occasions (we may incur a false penalty and just deal with it so as not to overuse the deaf card). It has been a while since I've pulled the deaf card. Today I had to play it in a way that made me oddly aware of the whole deaf part.
My husband mentioned in passing that he would be leaving after a meeting on Monday night to head to his conference that is Tuesday-Thursday. This is news to me. I thought he was leaving Tuesday morning and so wasn't concerned because my mother is coming Tuesday morning. This brought on some real frustration and, hidden deep down inside, fear for me. We had a little fight about the timing of it all when he checked and realized that he was in fact leaving Tuesday morning and all was well. I had already pulled the deaf card at this point.
Here was the argument: Jason was frustrated that I was freaking out about the whole thing at all because he has been attempting to get me to try our baby monitors on vibrate (the reason we got that model) so that I could be home alone at night with Hunter. Hunter sleeps through the night at this point, so the only real kicker would be what time he decides to get up in the morning. The monitor won't hold a charge for a whole night, so essentially I would have to set my alarm for a certain time in the morning and do the monitor thing and hope to get back to sleep. Those are the things I said to Jason. Plus I told him that I wouldn't be able to sleep well the whole night, knowing I might be missing something and obsession over whether he was asleep or awake. I could sleep with my hearing aids in, I guess, but they would whistle and I would have a restless sleep still.
Here is what I didn't say to Jason (I will, don't worry you therapists- I just took a while to realize where I am): I am scared out of my mind of having someone dependent on me when I don't know if they can be. That is why I have avoided the whole baby monitor practice thing, that is why I always seem to have someone with me when Jason is out of town. I'm avoiding my fear. I don't want to deal with it at all, and was hoping not to have to until Hunter was sleeping in and could get up and wake me up if he needed to (which is in two years??). And because I haven't communicated this to Jason, his annoyance with me is misinterpreted (by me) as a lack of compassion. I know he can't understand my fear, and sometimes I worry that he resents my dependance. THIS is the revelation of my deaf card pull today- and it was not pretty. I felt momentarily like I was somehow less capable or able to be a mother simply because I can't hear at night. This I know to be false, and as I've said countless times, deaf people have kids- so it's possible- but I never faced the fear or the reality of figuring out how to do it myself.
So I suppose I have to go tell this to Jason, get more comfortable with the monitor thing or keep my hearing aids in, etc. I have to face my fear. I have to figure it out. I can't play the deaf card this time- it played me!
Monday, April 6, 2009
I am job.
This is a quote from the movie "Mrs. Doubtfire" when Robin Williams' character calls his ex-wife in different voices to answer her ad in the paper for a nanny. One call he makes and just says "I am JOB" over and over again. It is really funny.
This is the phrase that has been in my head a while for some reason- but it has more to do with NOT being the job. I recently resigned from my church job (last Monday) and my two weeks is up this Thursday. It is really really weird to me. I am no longer job. I was telling my sisters this- I no longer have a job, which used to be part of my identity, and now I don't- and I don't know if I even understand what it means. I have been given the opportunity to stay at home with Hunter and be a companion for my Grandmother who lives locally. It is a win-win situation for everyone, and I am thrilled to do it- but for some reason even writing this out here in the blog is making me anxious.
I don't believe it to be true. I don't know what I will say now when people ask me what I do. I know it is the good and best and right thing for me and my family at this point, but I can't help but think in my head.... I am job? With a definite question mark. So many things are going through my mind. Because I seem to be befuddled and anxious just thinking about it- let me tell you about it list-style:
-i am so excited about Hunter having a regular schedule and not messing with being at a work place at certain times.
-thank god i dont have to count my hours anymore
-i was working on some projects at work, will i be able to drop them now?
-i can volunteer and do good things
-i can't volunteer too muchu or else i'm just doing my job for free
-my grandmother's life is going to improve significantly!
-what if my grandmother's life doesn't improve significantly?
-Hunter will still be off schedule a little bit when we go to Grandmothers
-maybe not- he'll get used to it and nap there as well as he does here
-i am now fully responsible for the well-being of two human beings
-that is scary
-i felt responsible before anyway- now i can do it well
-will i have to have an impeccable house now?
-i can cook healthy meals- i hope
-i have way too many expectations on myself about what this "new life" will look like
-will i disappoint people? myself?
-i went to grad school and now i'm going to be a caregiver.... Im fine with that but feel like there is a little feminist in the back of my brain that says somehow i failed
-but i dont want to have a high-powered career
-but then why did i go to grad school?
-I really loved grad school.
-what do i say when people ask me what i do?
-Im a stay at home mom (SAHM), but more than that- but not that there is a "lesser" to being home.
-oh my gosh- am i really a SAHM?
- i dont want to become one of "them" (you know- the Moms that have no idea that there are other people besides their kids in the world)
i just.... whew. have a lot on my mind. this is such a huge blessing, and yet it is really messing with me. i can't put my finger on it. I want to do so much with this new freedom, but just like any freedom- there will be boundaries and brick walls and obstacles, and it hurts to run into them, and it can hurt if you run for miles without putting up a boundary.
My analogy/story: When we moved to south florida my senior year of high school, the family dog- Ginger- was totally confused. We had a back yard but no fence. All of us knew where the yard ended, but she didn't because the fence always told her. So one day she got out and ran until she found a fence. it was about 4 houses down and I had to run after her in my swimsuit as she totally ignored me. We installed an electric fence soon after and she never bothered with the border after a couple of tries. She was content in her new space and knew where the yard ended. I feel like Ginger- only I don't have my fence yet. I have to refigure my whole yard- my life- figure out where the fences are, where I can't go and where I can. I have to redefine my boundaries, redefine my freedoms, redefine my expectations, redefine my role, all while having two people (and a husband) with their own ideas and expectations. I have to figure out my identity in these new terms and satisfy myself as well as all these other folks. THAT is going to be a lot of work. And it feels like no one really gets that- I'm sure they do. I asked Jason if he had any new expectations or thoughts- he was just really excited about the possibility of me cooking dinner consistently. (I've claimed that chore but not followed through). I know it will be more complex than this.
I'm anxious.
I'm joyful.
I am job?
This is the phrase that has been in my head a while for some reason- but it has more to do with NOT being the job. I recently resigned from my church job (last Monday) and my two weeks is up this Thursday. It is really really weird to me. I am no longer job. I was telling my sisters this- I no longer have a job, which used to be part of my identity, and now I don't- and I don't know if I even understand what it means. I have been given the opportunity to stay at home with Hunter and be a companion for my Grandmother who lives locally. It is a win-win situation for everyone, and I am thrilled to do it- but for some reason even writing this out here in the blog is making me anxious.
I don't believe it to be true. I don't know what I will say now when people ask me what I do. I know it is the good and best and right thing for me and my family at this point, but I can't help but think in my head.... I am job? With a definite question mark. So many things are going through my mind. Because I seem to be befuddled and anxious just thinking about it- let me tell you about it list-style:
-i am so excited about Hunter having a regular schedule and not messing with being at a work place at certain times.
-thank god i dont have to count my hours anymore
-i was working on some projects at work, will i be able to drop them now?
-i can volunteer and do good things
-i can't volunteer too muchu or else i'm just doing my job for free
-my grandmother's life is going to improve significantly!
-what if my grandmother's life doesn't improve significantly?
-Hunter will still be off schedule a little bit when we go to Grandmothers
-maybe not- he'll get used to it and nap there as well as he does here
-i am now fully responsible for the well-being of two human beings
-that is scary
-i felt responsible before anyway- now i can do it well
-will i have to have an impeccable house now?
-i can cook healthy meals- i hope
-i have way too many expectations on myself about what this "new life" will look like
-will i disappoint people? myself?
-i went to grad school and now i'm going to be a caregiver.... Im fine with that but feel like there is a little feminist in the back of my brain that says somehow i failed
-but i dont want to have a high-powered career
-but then why did i go to grad school?
-I really loved grad school.
-what do i say when people ask me what i do?
-Im a stay at home mom (SAHM), but more than that- but not that there is a "lesser" to being home.
-oh my gosh- am i really a SAHM?
- i dont want to become one of "them" (you know- the Moms that have no idea that there are other people besides their kids in the world)
i just.... whew. have a lot on my mind. this is such a huge blessing, and yet it is really messing with me. i can't put my finger on it. I want to do so much with this new freedom, but just like any freedom- there will be boundaries and brick walls and obstacles, and it hurts to run into them, and it can hurt if you run for miles without putting up a boundary.
My analogy/story: When we moved to south florida my senior year of high school, the family dog- Ginger- was totally confused. We had a back yard but no fence. All of us knew where the yard ended, but she didn't because the fence always told her. So one day she got out and ran until she found a fence. it was about 4 houses down and I had to run after her in my swimsuit as she totally ignored me. We installed an electric fence soon after and she never bothered with the border after a couple of tries. She was content in her new space and knew where the yard ended. I feel like Ginger- only I don't have my fence yet. I have to refigure my whole yard- my life- figure out where the fences are, where I can't go and where I can. I have to redefine my boundaries, redefine my freedoms, redefine my expectations, redefine my role, all while having two people (and a husband) with their own ideas and expectations. I have to figure out my identity in these new terms and satisfy myself as well as all these other folks. THAT is going to be a lot of work. And it feels like no one really gets that- I'm sure they do. I asked Jason if he had any new expectations or thoughts- he was just really excited about the possibility of me cooking dinner consistently. (I've claimed that chore but not followed through). I know it will be more complex than this.
I'm anxious.
I'm joyful.
I am job?
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Tub emergency
The baby bath tub is leaking into the guest bedroom. The guest bedroom is in use. The guest bedroom is the ONLY room in the entire house with carpeting. The baby bath tub is in the bathroom that hasn't yet had a total plumbing replacement done (unlike all the others). The plumbers don't like to work on weekends so they charge emergency fees (think double or triple). The baby bath tub could end up in the guest bedroom by the time the un-emergent plumber gets here on Monday or Tuesday- if available of course.
Why didn't I become a plumber? They must be millionaires.
Why didn't I become a plumber? They must be millionaires.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)