What is it, Precious?

Sometimes I think in a Smeagol voice, especially when tired.  But this story must be told today because it is so quirky.

It starts a year ago.  My wonderful, amazing, and sometimes bored at work friend Brandie* found an awesome deal on winter coats.  She also found a coupon code.  For a mere $25 I got a winter coat for Sebastian and an awesomely ugly ring for myself.  (*Name changed to protect the spectacular friend that is always working hard and never chatting on the internet)

The ring was delivered on schedule.  The coat, however, was not.  It was missing.  The package was entirely too small for the coat.  We were leaving for Kansas City in a few days, in November, and my darling little boy would get a chill.  We needed a coat.

The next part has faded a bit into history.  There may have been some yelling at JCP about the coat, some driving wildly to pick up a coat, some haggling to get the right price as promised, and the back-ordered missing coat order cancelled.  But, rest assured, Sebastian was not cold from November 2011 to present.  He had his Precious.

For the record, he calls it a coat like a normal person.  And I call it a coat until 11 pm, at which time it turns into a magical coat that makes you disappear.  You have to eventually take a long walk and drop it into a pit of fire, but we're not there yet.

Fast forward to yesterday.  Nothing happened coat-wise yesterday but I'm trying to make my blog longer.

Fast forward again to today.  I get a call from a nice lady at the shipping company saying that they have a package for me from JCP.  I am thrilled, although I have no idea what the contents might be.  I think perhaps David bought me a present.  Called him and found out that no, he did not.  I think it is a secret admireror.   Perhaps a rich relative died.  Could it be a pay it forward red ballgown?  I'm sort of in the market for one of those.

I go to the store.  I frantically and joyfully rip open the package.  And there, nestled away is Precious II.  It had been back-ordered for over a year.  It is delightful as far as Precious' go, I suppose.  Clean and new and orange.  But we already have a Precious and having two in the house is just asking for trouble.

Anyhow, it all ended well.  We gave Precious II to the school to give to a cold kid.  Sebastian's teacher already had someone in her class that needs it, so that's even better.  It was just odd, you know?  A little unexpected visitor.  Nothing huge, really.  Not a baby or a new car or a gigantic statue of Elvis.  Just a Precious, meant for someone else.  

Sparkle

Once upon a time, a long time ago, I lost my sparkle.  

Wait, let me start again.

A few months ago, my sparkle vanished.  It was taken by a wicked troll because I wouldn't give her chocolate.  

No, that's not quite accurate either.  

I lost my sparkle.  It just sort of went away for a while.  Things got messy, my brain felt full of cotton with a few pins left in.  And now, thanks to an assortment of awesome friends and family, and a tiny bit of work on my part, that sparkle is coming back.

I guess I should give you some back story.  As far as you know, "my sparkle" is code for my fuzzy pet bunny who went to live on a farm.  No bunnies in this story I'm afraid.  Not real ones anyhow.  

My partner, son, and I moved to Texas four years ago.  We moved for two reasons: First, I am impulsive and thought it was a great idea, why the hell not.  Second, partner got a good job here.  A job which would allow me to stay at home with our son.*

It was scary to move to Texas.  The farthest I had lived away from home was a three hour drive.  A drive that I knew well because I came home entirely too often.  Partner had never lived more than 15 minutes from almost everyone he knew.  We would be on our own, with a spastic three-year-old, in what is arguably one of the most conservative places in the country.  What the hell were we thinking?

So I started to fold up my sparkle.  It is huge, you see, my sparkle.  Imagine a map, one of those big road trip maps.  The ones that never fold back just right, and you can't quite see and navigate safely while driving.  That is my sparkle. It is rainbowy and glittery and glossy.  It is loud and obnoxious.  It makes you get show tunes stuck in your head.  And for reasons I don't quite understand, people are either drawn to it or are repelled by it.  I was alone all day with my son.  I was lonely and scared.  And I didn't want people to be thrown off by my sparkle.  So little by little, I folded it up.  

At last it was pocket-sized and I was miserable.  My sparkle is my driving force.  I was like a stalled boat in the water with no paddle.  Not still, I could drift a bit.  Sometimes I could reach down and try to paddle with my hands.  I didn't capsize.  But I also didn't feel that I could do anything: no fun, no purpose, not even get to shore.  I was stuck in deep waters, scared of drowning if I took a risk.

Many loving people rescued me.  They figuratively and literally repaired me enough to get to shore.  It hurt sometimes.  It was mortifying, it was scary.  And it was all done with love.  

Now that I'm on solid ground I am starting to unfold my sparkle.  Some days I can show it off, let it glint in the sun.  Some days I hold it tight.  It is my security blanket, you see, and sometimes I need to keep it close to make sure it doesn't go anywhere.  But it is there, and it is getting some fresh air.  Purely this act of writing in this blog is evidence of that.  Thank you for seeing my sparkle for these few minutes.

And then an imaginary bunny came hopping by and gave me a cupcake and a kiss.  

*Being a stay at home mom, especially to our son, deserves its own blog entry.  Hell, it deserves its own blog.  And shots of tequila, all around. Man I love that kid, but whew, he is the complete opposite of a boring kid.  

Saturday, Sunday, Monday!!

I'm just plain horrible at this.  OR I'm a busy person who loses track of days.  We'll go with the second option.

Saturday -
Friends who are well on their way to being "friends."
Salt and pepper shakers ;-)
Tie dye
Deep Ellum
Sebastian's peace sign/gang sign

Sunday - 

My car is as clean as it has ever been.  

Making plans

Finding out things that make life easier AND cheaper

Having some self-control

Crazy, wild, adorable teenagers.

Monday - 

PUMPKINS!!!

My physical therapist - who is nice

Church folk who are SO supportive of the youth group

Realizations, even if they mean work

PUMPKINS!!!

Thursday/Friday

I was sick yesterday, and asleep by 8.  (I kid you not, I was asleep by 8!!)  Anyhow, here's a few moments of gratitude.

• Um, being asleep by 8
• Waking up to "watch the debates" but only remembering that Paul Ryan has tiny lips.
• Doctors who care
• The chipotle sauce at Sonic for their burritos.  Awesome.
• Anti-dizzy shot of amazing.

My brother the graduate.  

And now Friday:

• Patient, kind, loving friend who comfort you for the thousandth time.
• The smaller boot!
• Health (in theory)
• Ice cream cones
• Conversations with Sebastian and Karma about God.  Especially Karma's "Yeah God!" throughout the talk

What do ya know Wednesday

I don't know that I have yet to write on the actual day of the list.  I'm sort of proud.

• Hilarious friends.
• Analyzing zombie movies
• Sebastian's future wife (along with is few other wives, and his one husband)
• Feeling productive
• Seeing how good Karma is at visual memory and detail. 

Finches at our finest - 2011

Tuesday

I forgot to add random pictures yesterday to my HUGE gratitude list.  So, you get some now.  

My brother Christopher, taken back in Pizza Hut Land

One of my brothers, wearing the traditional my-dad-wore-this boy clothes

(It is Christian, btw)

Sebastian wearing the same awesome outfit.

My maternal grandpa rocking his nightgown and booties.

Uncle Christian and Karma 

My attempt at cute and/or sassy hair

And now, on to the list:

• Things that make you feel pretty.  
• Taking time to listen to music
• This is probably bad of me, but listening to Sebastian's nightmares as he wakes up to tell me.  (The worst part, the monster ate the dog poop!)
• Holding it together, not crying, even though I'm furious and frustrated.  (Not a home thing at all)
• Giggles

And now a random picture for today:

Catch up (ketchup?) time!

So, I have slept between now and last Tuesday, so I'm going to have to sort of wing it.  If I remember it happening that day, it must be something for which to be grateful.  Here we go...

Wednesday:

• Compassionate school-folk
• Bravery
• Political debates, and good company while watching them
• Spaghetti (yum!)
• Acceptance by new people

Thursday:

• The fact that I don't have to cut Sebastian's hair
• Flower garlands
• Caring adults, especially ones that ignore your "I'm too stressed out" tears
• Sleep
• My cat

Friday:

• When the timing works out just right
• A night off
• Clean house
• Friendship, true loving friendship
• Forgiveness

Saturday: 

• The culture of viola school
• Group lessons that include pushups!  (Only with my son....)
• The little posse of violists
• Taking my mother in law to Ikea - she was in heaven!
• New silverware

Sunday: 

• Playing cards
• Letting the kids play
• Hot tubs
• Church support for The Great Pumpkin Patch
• The church I am in, the denomination and this particular church

Monday:

• Others who realize how silly Columbus Day really is.
• Babes Chicken
• Cousins playing
• Good dentist check ups
• The health and safety of a certain Noah-boy

Twisty Tuesday

Yesterday I had planned on getting a lot of housework done, making a schedule, then taking Sebastian to viola.  None of that happened.  Still, I've got to be grateful for what was yesterday.

• Doctors who act silly
• Sebastian took Karma to go potty.  How sweet is that?
• Viola accessories
• Wonderful friends and their questions
• (Ok working on this one)  Being grateful for being scared.  Means there is importance to it.  

And....random picture of the day:

10-1-12

How about I blog from this side today?

1.  Being close enough to your kid's teacher to be able to send an email that  only contains the words "Sorry about the puke."

2.  Brilliant ideas

3.  The lady in the grocery store who was talking on the phone and  said "crack is whack" as part of a serious conversation.

4.  My kid can pee in a cup.

5.  Supper last night was very yummy.  And all orange, by accident.  Curry and butternut squash.

Time to party!

Yesterday we had a birthday lunch for Karma.  Well, let me back up, first we had church, THEN we had a birthday party for Karma.  Nothing big at all, pizza buffet, grocery store cake (long story there), time with friends and family.  It was good.

The List:
1.  Eggs (see above about the cake)
2.  Sad goodbyes, but only because we're able to get so close to others that we have sad goodbyes
3.  Silly little quotes that make you giggle.
4.  Friend/family
5.  Baked potato pizza.

Karma Rose

Oh yeah, bogo!

Forgot to do this yesterday, so it is a two-fer.  Woot!

Friday:
1.  Sticking to my guns while parenting.  It is so gosh darn hard sometimes but I'm proud that I did it.
2.  God, specifically how God puts us where we're supposed to be.
3.  Being on time (um, rare)
4.  Polka dotted dresses
5.  Potential new friends - or at least people I know at the school.

And the random photo is....

Christmas last year - photo taken by The Amazing Chera

And for Saturday:

1.  You know when you write a weirdly rambling vulnerable email and you don't know how the other person will take it and you sort of just decide "oh well, already sent?"  Yeah, I like the last part of that a whole lot.

2.  Bright yellow/green safety shirts.

3.  My limes and their mystery purpose.

4.  Discussions of great importance surrounded by silly gossip.

5.  Trust

Nephew and I, pretending to sleep <3 p="p">

Almost forgot

Yep, almost forgot to write this tonight.

• Karma wanting to take her (huge) dollhouse to bed with her.
• The very, very last scene in The Avengers - it makes me giggle
• Love, the kind that is understanding, compassionate, changing, and real.
• Sebastian's caring for his sister, especially if she has napped.
• Surprise gifts 

And, the random picture of the day - 

Gratitude list, morning after

My apologies lovely reader(s), I was out late last night having a wonderful time.  So here is The Gratitude List, twelve hours late.

• Familiarity and that feeling of love that comes with it.
• Sebastian getting his homework finished before we even got home, even though "it wasn't fair."
• Emails that make you smile.
• Ok, I have been trying to get some paperwork finished for (literally) years.  Um, like 10 years - it is for a change of name and address for a bank account.  I have finished said paperwork!  Now to mail it...
• Karma licking the peanut butter off of the celery.  

And, as a bonus, a random picture from the archives

Our best attempt at bluebell pictures, 2010

September 25

Today was my Grandma's birthday.  She passed away in July and I miss her.  So, today I dedicate this list to her.

1.  "Don't worry sis, it will all turn out alright."
2.  Gossip, with a side of partial truth.
3.  Just say it is Boost, she'll drink it!
4.  "There are too many butts in this kitchen"
5.  Sitting down, saying ok let's do this, and making yet another list of who brought what  for Thanksgiving.  It was the same list for every holiday, but somehow we had to sit down and write it all out.  I was in charge of pumpernickel bread with ranch dressing, sometimes Watergate salad, and *maybe* stuffing.  Come to think of it, none of those require lots of cooking.  Hey, wait a minute......

September 24, gratitude report

I can't believe that I did this for a whole year once.  Gotta get in the groove again.  (These are always placed in random order as I think of them)

1.  Second chances.  Or more accurately, 294,938,409th chances.
2.  The wooden dolls Karma got for her birthday.  Two moms, two dads, a set of grandparents, and three kids.  :-)
3.  Sebastian's pride in helping me this afternoon, and his willingness to put giving me a hug at the top of his list.
4.  Penpals and all that entails.
5.  Reasons to celebrate and have jalepeno ranch dip at Chuey's.  And, to be honest, future margaritas.

A little bit if fairy magic

I'm slightly convinced that my daughter is a fairy.  

There is something about her.  She's courageous and bouncy, with a slight twinkle in her eye.  She loves people, not to be friendly, but she seems to want to get to know them.  She loves playing jokes on people, teasing in her preschool sort of way.  She's certainly not perfect but she is passionate, even when she's 'having a moment.'  

She have been put on this earth to cause just enough mischief to make life entertaining.  

Karma Rose turned 3 yesterday.  Among her other presents she got wings and a few tutus.  I'm telling you, a fairy is in our midst.  

Karma with her equally magical (and mischievous) brother Sebastian

grief

grief

a villain that grabs your time

breaking down your door, built of love

memories that protect you are swept away

the feeling

ZAP

it sneaks or it ambushes

thrashing around

slow boiling

i can not see it until it is too late

solace, solidarity

you repair the cracks

that never disappear

the seams are there, always

sometimes hardly noticeable

sometimes shouting their neon cries

better place, happy, quiet

no pain, rest, love, heaven

those stories 

true for some

true for me

can not stop the villain

offers comfort, these stones

as i clean up the debris 

villain, that bastard of grief and time

haunting my cupboards

hiding in the most innocent of places

lingering in my brain

waiting for an invitation to strike

with a smirk and a resonating 

BOOM

Circles in my path

I have been noticing a lot of weird connections between people in my life.  Circles, one person led me to another, and so on, until the circle is complete.  I am a changed better person because of that circle.  Other connections too: I read two sermons by one person, then listened to another sermon and they reminded me of each other so much.  Two writers, two different journeys, education, denomination, spirituality, etc.  Yet today those two people talked to me about the same topic.  All in all, I find it quite interesting.

I feel like I am on a path and I do not know where it leads.  It isn't a scary path.  Parts may excite me and still others may scare me.  I may fall down while on the path, making for pain and for slow-going as I recover.  I may get lost from the path.  I will surely meet others along the path, and sometimes I will walk alone.  The beginning of the walk was terrifying.  I wasn't sure what I would find and, at the time, I was sure it was terrifying.  I think the end of the walk will be grand, time to relax, let my body and mind get used to the stillness.

But, you know me.  I am restless.  Another walk awaits me.  And those surprise people, circles, messages - they will all accompany me through this path and the next.  Faith in that makes me walk with light footsteps and a song frolicking through my head.  

i am a poet

Except

We are the victor and the enemy

The pained

the inflicter

Clear in our self, somewhere

The Universe ticks on

steady, or so they say

Yet the quiet holds the key

Muddle, trouble, sin, safety

mixed up words and delicate canons

The harpsichord twinkling softly in the background

comfort? ominous?

Strength, wisdom, truth

but hurry hurry, frazzled self on the line

Comfort, find comfort

Know the rhythms of 3

Remember your manners. 

Whatever you do, do not think.

Peaceful Silence

It is quiet.  I am up before everyone else, as I serve as the family alarm clock.  I hear the coffee dripping, my son snoring, cars outside driving by.  The cat just meowed her good morning to me.  It sounds exactly like her Feed Me Now meow, but I like to think she is just being friendly.

I always like driving early in the morning, wondering where the other people are headed.  I realize now they are headed to work and to school - no great adventure - but some folk might have a story to tell about this day.  Being up earlier everyone, this silence, reminds me of those stories and adventures.  Who knows what today will bring.

As I sit, I see the toys piled up.  There is a Spiderman suitcase that, despite my best efforts, keeps reappearing and I have effectively given up.  Sooner or later we'll need it again, right?  Much better than the children digging through my closet to get to it again.  I see toys that I keep meaning to take up to church.  I see backpacks everywhere - one for work, one for school, one for the gym, one for my computer, one for viola, one for church, one for Karma since everyone else has one.  They are useful but I am starting to wonder if we have a slight backpack addiction.  

A portion of my brain is screaming "You have so much to do!  How can you sit?!"  That has been an overriding thought lately, to the point of obsession.  The house must be perfectly kept, children act perfectly at all times, no screen time for anyone, food is amazingly healthy.  This expectation has even carried over to my beliefs about my dog: he should be docile when I'd like and entertaining when I'm in the mood.  I am a realist though, I have no expectations about the cat.  Let's not get crazy now.

A few weeks ago I came out fighting, fighting my very stagnant brain.  You see because of family situations I have been surviving the last four years.  Moving away from most everyone you know, establishing life in a new city, new culture.  Building friendships, realizing which friendships are real.  Finding a church family, learning to trust them, love them.  Births, surgeries, diagnoses, job losses, promotions.  Happiness, yes.  But guilt and stress have been my emotions of choice.

When I decided that I needed to change my thinking, I came out fighting with the stress of urgency behind it.  Like I feel every morning - I have so much do to; how can I sit? How can I possibly sit and not work on myself.  I have been thinking in circles, maddening circles.  I have had a few actual realizations, most of the "work" has been a way to numb the pain I am feeling.  Oh silly, I can't feel pain.  I'm working on myself.  This is good.  Don't look at anything else going on, write in your journal again.  Talk to your friend again.  A stranger again.  And again, this is better than feeling.

I can't learn a new language in a day, a month.  Of course this is true.  Why in the world do I flippantly think I can change my thinking in a day?  It trivializes my work, the depth of who I am.  It is not fair nor pleasant to my loved ones and friends.  No, this is going to take practice.  I will get to a place in which I feel whole-hearted, find more joy.  The process will be slow.  I have made the decision to linger in the slow process.  This is my essence we're talking about.  Each step in growing brings an adventure, like a 4 am car drive. The 4 am car ride is only pleasant if it is out of the ordinary.  Working toward a more complete self can not, by definition, be ordinary.  Out of everything in our lives, creating and recreating ourselves through self growth - that is a lifetime of adventure.   

Quick steps on the journey

9/6/12

1.  Bras that keep the girls where they're supposed to be.
2.  I don't remember what horrible-for-me coffee I drank yesterday, it involved chocolate chips.  In any case, I am very grateful for it.
3.  People who are willing to reach out.
4.  When your kid apologizes.
5.  Being able to talk to other parents about their kids, your kids.  

Two steps forward

I am writing about my life, my journey to become a more satisfied person.  I'm not wanting constant happiness, that is weird.  But I want to LIVE my life, not just muddle through.  I want to be able to feel joy.  Lofty goals, but I'm determined.

And now, for the Gratitude List:

9/4/12
1.  The love of late night conversations.
2.  Scooting around town.
3.  Pumpkins
4.  America's Got Talent!!!
5.  Karma having dry underwear.

9/5/12
1.  Sebastian's joy doing his math homework.
2.  The Daily Show, especially right now.
3.  Vulnerable conversations, or rather the relief and joy afterward.
4.  The idea of MNI's.
5.  My washing machine.

My Journey

I haven't written in a long time.  Seems like that's how this blog goes - I write a bit, then stop for a long time, then feel like I need to write about the time in between.  I am not going to do that this time.  I am unapologetic for the lapse in blog-writing.  While I love doing it, it is not high on my list of priorities.  I'm a busy person.  So I think I will just pick up here, where I left off.

I have decided to make a gratitude list.  My goal is to write a list of five things a day.  I did this for almost a year and it was a good experience.  So, here it goes.

1.  David working on the church website.  He doesn't have to do the website at all, and he is really working hard at it.  I appreciate that and am grateful that he's willing to do it.

2.  Karma pooped in the potty for the first time.  I love it.

3.  Cameras.  

4.  Sebastian's viola work, especially when he really gets good tone.  Natural talent.

5.  Friends that convince you that cleaning out your email is just like cleaning house.


I am living with self-esteem that seems to keep gradually getting worse.  This gratitude list is part of my journey to regain some of my self-worth.  My first instinct is to keep it private but I know that there are so many other people that feel the same way.  Therefore, this blog, this process is for US not for me.  Does that mean that anyone will have better self-esteem as a result?  No, no guarantees around here.  But action is better than inaction.  Or at least I'm going to believe that as I continue to write this blog.  

P.S.  I will probably add in political opinions throughout this blog.  'Tis the season.  I will separate the topics though and give you fair warning.  

Monday, Full of Waiting

First real day of "vacation."  I should add that we came up here because my grandma is very sick, so vacation isn't exactly the right word.  But we are having bits of fun throughout the week.

My kids love Grandma's house.  There are new toys - that have been down here forever! - and plenty of space to run.  Most of the toys involve imagination and the kids are eating that up.  Good times....until...

My daughter stuck her head between two spindles of a banister.  She got stuck.  She pulled, and tugged, and screamed, and was shaking.  We had to call 911 for help to get her unstuck.  I'm so grateful they could come!  My daughter held close to me for the rest of the evening.  I can't imagine how scary it was for her.

All in all, things are going alright.  It is hard to see Grandma sick, but I'm glad to be up here.  I haven't seen any friends yet (partially because I was so exhausted yesterday) but I'm hoping to see some tonight.  I treasure kid-free time.  I also love the friends I have here, friendships that have survived distance and time.  Something so comfortable in that.

Got to Kansas City on a Sunday

I wrote a song today.  The lyrics are pretty tricky but, with practice, I bet you can sing with me.

*To the tune of the Star Wars opening song*
Kan-sas, Kansas, Kansas, Kan-sas,
Kansas, Kansas, Kan-sas,
Kansas, Kansas, Kansasssss.

The best way to sing this song is loudly with a sock puppet.  One should sing this ditty when entering the great state of Kansas.

I had the opportunity to sing the Oklahoma song, the brand-new Kansas hit, and Kansas City song today as my mom, brother, and kids made the long trek to Kansas City from Dallas.  I don't know if you've ever made the trip but I think it gets longer every time you drive it.  Add in a kid with sensory issues surrounding bathrooms (he has to frantically find a place to pee when it is that time) and it takes a while to get here.  The kids were going nuts by the time we got here.  My son was fairly content with Angry Birds Space but my daughter would spontaneously scream at the top of her lungs.  I've never seen my brother get out of a car so quickly in my life.

But now we are home.  My childhood home, which has looked almost exactly the same for 20 years.  We stay here when we visit, each of us having our own bed.  Routine, a place for our shoes, dirty clothes, toys.  It is comfortable and comforting.  My daughter has decided that she will no longer sleep in the playpen but would rather sleep in my grandparents' bed.  It is sweet and I like to think that my grandpa is looking after her as she sleeps in there.

Tomorrow I will write more - write about why we're here and all of our crazy adventures.  But for now I'm going to pull out this hide-a-bed, tuck myself in, and get ready to take on the exciting town that is Blue Springs.  

Faith

I don't write too much on here about faith.  Partially because I'm typically all riled up about something else, partially because my faith is both important and private to me.  

I'll spare you some of the details but I will tell you that I am a member of a Disciples of Christ church.  If you're unfamiliar with this denomination it is a Protestant denomination focused on the similarities of the Christian world rather than the differences.  All are welcome to take communion, for example.  I think we're a more liberal denomination in our beliefs (as we don't focus on any common belief except for believing except taking Jesus as our Lord) but our services tend to be more conservative.  A lot of people want a more .... interesting?  entertaining? service, and I really like services with bands, praise, etc.  It is just more important to me to belong to a church that shares my beliefs. 

God told me no the other day.  (Interesting, I mistyped and wrote "God told me know the other day.")  I was asked if I wanted to play a specific role in the church, prayed about it, felt good about it.  Then God said 'no' via a deciding committee.  Not some big booming voice although a big booming voice would be awesome.  I was super sad about it.  When I grow up I want to work in pastoral care, and this role is a smaller version of that.  It sounded great, like the right thing.  I'll admit, I cried when I found out that I won't be serving this role.  

Then it hit me.  God wanted me to think, talk, and pray about it, but I'm not ready to actually DO it. 

Could I do the fundamentals of the job?  Probably.  The fundamentals include making phone calls and saying prayers occassionally.  I could do that part.  But could I provide the care that I would feel called to provide?  Simply put, I don't know.  

Church can be tricky business for me.  I love my church.  I want to join every committee, take meals to everyone who might have a cold, work every fundraiser, sing in the choir, do multiple Bible studies, and help each one of those kids in that church.  But do I have the ability to do these things well?  No, I'm not.  Not long-term anyhow. 

But I can pray about, then DO what God needs me to do.  We give financially and the spouse is doing a (way to fancy) website and tshirt design for the church.  We donate time and energy to the church in a variety of ways.  And I feel like we're bringing our unique gifts to God's table.  God will grow me like a Chia Pet, i.e. slowly but steadily, and I will be able to take on different/more responsibilities.  God said "not yet."

Music

I am feeling less than inspired tonight.  Sure, there are things I could write about.  But I just don't want to.  I want to sit and listen to music and think about how lucky I am.  So, here's a lucky list, no order.  Enjoy.

1. Family/friends
2. My dog and sometimes my cat
3. Music
4. Clean sheets
5. Lifelong learning
6. Activism
7. Coffee
8. Soft kleenex
9. Avocados
10.  Spell check
11. Doctors/medical personnel
12.  Laundry detergent.  Well, soap in general
13. Pictures
14. Advil
15. TED talks
16. Books
17. Praying 
18. Future plans
19. Roller skates (in theory)
20. Lasagna - since I need to pry myself off this couch and make it. 

Add in your favorites?

Spirituality

I want to be a minister.  Well, more technically, I want to be a minister with the intention of doing pastoral care.  I wouldn't mind preaching, but I have a different calling.  I feel strongly about my faith.  Actually it has really been strengthened the last few years.  It is pretty awesome.  

There are a lot of things I don't know.  Particulars - stories, verses, who wrote what book, etc.  But there are a lot of larger things that I don't know.  Does the devil exist...like actual flesh/spirit devil?  What about hell?  Where exactly is heaven?  Why didn't Jesus marry someone? (Or did he, and we just don't know about it?)  These aren't things that trouble me.  I really think I will come closer to figuring them out as I continue on my journey of faith.  

I'm not the stereotypical Christian.  I believe people of other faiths, or no faith, have the opportunity to go to heaven.  I believe that God loves all of us....like, every single person that has ever lived or will live.  Yes, even Hitler...and I believe that God does not approve of what we do, but loves us because we are God's children.   I believe God does not have a gender.  I believe that homosexuality, transgenderism, bisexuality are all genetics and that God made folk that way.  I believe that God forgives, and that God understands who we are and why we do what we do.  I believe that everyone is welcome to communion, although I think it is only meaningful to people who believe in Jesus.  I believe that we as people of God are called to help others and, by doing so, show God's love.  I also believe that there are plenty other people out there who also show great grace as they help others and are not believers in God.  Non-believers are also good people.

I recently saw a clip from a sermon during which the pastor was very hateful against the idea of homosexuality.  He said that, if your son is acting in a feminine manner, you should hit him.  Similarly you should force your daughters to dress and act feminine.  Honestly, the whole thing was a big load of bullshit.  The pastor preached hate.  The congregation agreed and *laughed* as he preached, apparently agreeing with his statements.  It made me sick to my stomach.  

I don't hate this man for his beliefs.  I don't approve, I honestly think he is a bigot, but I don't hate him.  And God loves this man, despite his beliefs.  But out of all the things I know for certain, I know that God is looking at this man wondering what in the heck he is thinking.

I'm here

I have nothing to say.  I know, it is really weird.  I keep trying to think of this.  I have a lot of thoughts in there but nothing solid.  So, you're just going to have to wait to hear about my thoughts on the following:

Why my cat hates us
The problems with naming your kid Karma
Everything you need to know about monitor lizards
Friends and their new relationships - specifically how darn cute they are.
Daily repetitions
Coffee
Why my church is better than your church.  (Ok, totally kidding, but I may write about my church)
Future plans, and what I thought life would look like
You can never have too many couch cushions
I may be a zombie

David already is a zombie

Huh, don't know what to make of this...

There is a topic that is very important, but I have desire to write about it.  It is too touchy for too many people.  It just feels weird not to write about something important to me.

This is what thinking before speaking feels like.  ;-)

Just for giggles, here is me being eaten by a hippo.  I survived, but just barely.

The Players in this Game

As part of my celebration, I am going to post a few pictures.  Because I like pictures.  

The children, crazy messy wild children

 The partner, who may poison me when he sees this picture

 Hi, this is me.

 These are my brothers.  Yes, one is trying to kill me.

Obviously there are many more people in my life, people very important to me.  I need to get my camera, sneak up on them, snag some pictures and post them here.  Until then you'll just have to take my word for it.

Screw you Shame

Ok, I'm just going to say it.  I have mental illnesses.  Seriously, two of them.  One is plenty - trust me.  But I have two.  And it sucks.

I have been diagnoses with Bipolar Disorder.  For my old school friends it is "Manic Depressive" Disorder.  Really, the old school version is much more descriptive.  I can be up high, on top of the world, then down so low.  Through medicine it is mostly under control.  I still go low, but I don't go super low.  I just get numb.  I am so thankful for medicine.

Wait, I said two diagnoses. 

I am also diagnosed with a Panic Disorder.  This is like anxiety on crack.  A Generalized Anxiety Disorder will cause you to be anxious all the time, without a specific reason.  A Panic Disorder adds fuel to that fire.  I will be fine - then I will be anxious - then I will have a panic attack.  Anywhere.  Anytime.  There is no predicting it because there is nothing that starts it.  I have had a panic attack because I couldn't reach the top shelf of the closet, because I found the card aisle in Wal-Mart, because the dog ate part of my lunch.  I also have medicine for this, with back up medicine...just in case.  It helps but the anxiety is still there.  It is always there.

So there you have it.  I am a "crazy person."  And I am telling the world about it?!  What the hell am I thinking?  

I am telling you, Dear Reader(s), for all the people I know also living with disabilities.  Maybe they have shame, maybe they are private - ahem, normal - sort of folk, maybe they are too deep in the disorder to be able to tell you.  They deserve to have a voice.  I humbly attempt to speak up on their behalf. 

Person with mental illness and her very normal little brother

Taking Care of Myself

I'm plagued with Perfect Mom Syndrome.  No, I'm not perfect...I just think I should be.  I'm not quite sure what perfect looks like, but I'm fairly sure Perfect Mom doesn't have unfolded clothes plopped all over her bed, Transformers piled on the floor, dishes on the table, and a kid plugged into the tv.  Certainly Perfect Mom isn't still in her pajamas.  Heck, Perfect Mom is up at 5 am, everyone is fed a perfectly balanced breakfast with all organic food, dressed in their ironed clothes (underwear is also ironed, of course), the house is clean, children are practically perfect, and the dog never makes messes.  Oh, and the cat is potty trained. 

This week has been hard for me.  Lots of things are changing and I tend to freak out with change.  I'm emotionally drained, prone to tears, feeling a bit frantic and overwhelmed.  I am failing miserably at being Perfect Mom.  I'm also doing a piss poor job at taking care of myself.  Instead of sitting for a minute praying or reading, or listening to music, or just being still, I am running around striving for the Perfect Mom Award.  Not only am I not even in the running for the Perfect Mom Award, I am also super tired.  

And so I announce a new holiday.  This holiday doesn't just come once a year - it happens as often as we need it.

It is Official Take Care of Myself Day.  I invite you to join me.  Do something that makes you happy just for the sake of being happy.  Put aside your Perfect Mom Syndrome for the day and celebrate being you.  You're amazing.  Sometimes a person needs to celebrate their awesomeness.  Now stop reading this and get to it.  You deserve it.

The Uncertain - and Very Exhausting - Road

My son has just been diagnosed with ADHD.  There may be more diagnoses coming, testing is in a few weeks, but at least we have some idea of what makes him tick.  We are giving him medicine, trying to figure out the right dosage, what to expect with the side effects.  We have been monitoring his diet and environment for a long time.  Routine is key, as is preparing him for transitions.  We don't leave the house often as it is difficult for all of us because of our son's behavior.  We talk to the school often, and these conversations are not positive. Our lives revolve around him.  None of these are complaints, just a glimpse into our lives right now.  Honestly it is a sad phase in our family life.  It will be better, but right now it is both sad and discouraging.

Entrenched in that is Mama Guilt.  I caused this.  Either through parenting or genetics, he has ADHD because of me.  There are new studies that suggest that if you are overweight when pregnant, your child is more likely to have ADHD.  More guilt.  Not seeking help earlier.  More guilt.  Not having a backyard for him to play.  More guilt.  Every time I get frustrated with him to the point of anger or tears.  More guilt.  It is relentless. 

Parenting my son is difficult.  He's prone to anger, then rage.  You don't want to go there.  He has hit, kicked, bitten, etc.  Part of you wants to protect him from that rage, another part wants to be safe - to not have someone hurting you.  Routine helps but he can still go into rages for no apparent reason.  I know logically that he's frustrated and that is causing the outburst, but in the moment it feels unpreventable, shocking, and sometimes scary. 

All of these feelings are stewing under the surface every day.  It is constant, and it is tiring.  Parenting is hard as hell.  I don't know that parenting my children is more or less difficult, but right now it is hard for us.  I don't mind asking for help, but I don't even know what help we need.  I get lost in my parenting thoughts - I should parent better, I should be more strict, I should be more understanding of his disability(ies?), I should give him more loving attention, I should not give him attention when he is raging, I should comfort him, I should protect him from other kids, I should encourage him to play with others, I should .... I should....

I fear being judged by others.  That fear has subsided - my son has had a hard time with transitions and frustrations for years.  He can scream so loud that half of Wal-Mart stops and looks, he can throw such a fit he rocks the car, his fits can often be heard outside of the house.  I still hate being judged, but I know we are judged often.  I try to hold my head high as I physically carry him home from the park - to know that I am doing what he needs.  I prevent outbursts when I can and deal with the rest.  What option do I have? 

I have so much more to write, but the tears are rolling down my cheeks and it is time to physically dress my 6 1/2 year old boy and send him off to school.  A school he hates.  It takes all the emotional strength I have to send him out the door every day.  The only thing that keeps me going is knowing it is what he needs. 

There are kids that have many more challenges than my son does.  There are parents doing this alone (whom are superheros, I think), families without the means to help their children, children living in abusive homes, etc.   We are doing just fine by those standards.  And I do feel lucky to have such an amazing boy.  However, dear reader(s)  I'd like for you to remember this post when you see the kid screaming in the grocery store.  Cut that parent some slack.  Please try not to judge.  Chances are the parent is feeling enough judgement and shame already.

Stress Brain

I'm not sure you're familiar with this syndrome, but it is the feeling that you can not recall anything.  You babble instead of talk.  You stare sometimes.  I get a bit giggly and weird.  It is Mom Stress Brain.

I figure moms are already running on less sleep.  We don't catch up after having the babies, then we can't sleep the same because we listen to our kids.  Our mom radar is on all the time.  It is mentally exhausting and we can't turn it off.  I prefer to think of all of this happening in the 90% of our brain that we don't use, but I'm not sure.  I know that when I am stressed the regular functions of mom brain bleed into the rest of my functions.

I walk into a room and have no idea what I needed, or even walking into the room.  Having a conversation with my husband is pointless - I have no idea what he's talking about.  Can't follow a movie to save my life.  (I prefer Lifetime Original Movies because you can just predict them and be fine.)  You go through the motions and can even make it to the grocery store, but you will buy all sorts of things and forget the one thing you needed to get.  Nothing more miserable than unpacking all your things and realizing you forgot toilet paper - and you only have half a roll left. 

I won't get into all the stress here.  Let's just say that there are some things going on with a kid, but everyone is happy and healthy.  I will write about it but I will dedicate a post or two to all that is going on.  Let's just say that there is a lot of stress in the house and I apparently can't think through the stress fog to function well.  

A few Mom Stress Brain instances today:

• I boiled a pot of water dry before remembering I was going to boil eggs.
• I'm not sure I ever called my kids or the dog by their correct name.
• It took me four tries to move my car so that the driver's side was near the vacuum at the carwash.
• I called my dad and was surprised when he answered - I forgot who I was calling.
• I correctly read about 1/3 of the bedtime book with my son.  Most of the rest was weird combinations of words and gibberish.  
• It took me 10 minutes to decide on the type of ice cream I wanted.  I got the cheapest - basically I let Dave Ramsey decide.
• I washed an empty washer and forgot to start the dryer. 

I have no idea if this blog makes sense.  I actually read it before posting, which is unusual, and it seems to make sense.  But this is coming from the lady who circled the parking lot of CVS three times before parking because I couldn't decide on a parking spot.  The parking lot was practically empty.  Who does that?

The Church Playground - Update

Last week the kids and I went to a nearby church and played at their public playground.  While we were playing a worker told me that the children from the church were not allowed to play with us as we are part of "you people."  I'm not sure what constitutes "you people" but I'm beginning to become proud of my membership.  Better than "those people." ;-)

I called a few times and finally got a call back from a minister at the church.  Actually, I'm not sure he's a minister but got a call from *someone* at the church.  He said he wasn't in charge of "those people" who run the children's programming but recognized that someone could find that language offensive.  (Not that the language IS offensive.)  He said that the church required that the adults interacting with the children were required to have a background check.  Um, ok.  I wasn't trying to interact with the children.  My child was trying to play with other children.  Is she required to have a background check as well?  What about those children - I don't know anything about them.  I know, I'm awfully trusting - letting my supervised child play with other children without proper investigation.  Sigh...

I digress...and giggle at the thought of a background check for a two year old.

The minister (?) said that they will review what people should say.  He also said that the people are interns and so they don't really know what to say.  *eyeroll* I told him that this language was bigoted and that it could drive someone away from God. 

He told me that we're welcome to play on the playground as long as church members aren't there.  I asked him if that was posted, it is not.  I don't know if we will return to that park - part of me wants to just out of spite - but we will play whenever we please.  Jesus doesn't have a playdate schedule.

Poetry? Really?

Love - I give it to you

Sharing it

Sprinkling it on you, each of you

Like a shimmer

I will toss it to you

if you'd like

or pass it gently

I want to hand it to you, make you take it

but that takes away from the gift

A want you to feel

this love that I feel

maybe the tip of your nose

or tingling on your fingertips

a taste of the freshness.

Flowery 

Twirling ribbons 

blue, purple, pink, silken

wrapping around you

Careful, not too tight

slightest embrace

Flittering love

 

Respect

It is apparently Don't Respect People week and I have missed the notice.  It is fine, really, as I would like to think I'd have a hard time intentionally treating poorly.  It has been a hard week though.  I am glad it is Thursday.

I must admit that I'm struggling this week.  While I don't shut up when I have something to say, I fail miserably of thinking of something to say when someone is being rude.  I was raised by one of the nicest people I know.  Nice to a fault.  Sacrifice nice.  If she is miffed (the most anger to which she will admit) she suggests writing a polite note.  Frankly that isn't doing it for me this week.

It is easy to cop out and say that it is all society's fault.  And I really try to avoid such blanket statements.  But it is certainly in  my culture of origin to grin and take it rather than address something.  To excuse the person cognitively and attempt to just forget about it.  "Surely he didn't mean to, he's just having a bad day."  I suppose it serves a purpose for us as well.  We certainly are 'better than everyone' since we can look past all the hurt that a person has caused.  Add in the bonus of being able to avoid conflict and I can understand the appeal. 

I can't look past hurt.  I can understand it, love the person anyhow, forgive easily.  Forgetting the hurt isn't as easy.  I am not sure any of us can do that, as much as we'd like to be able to.  Pain is still there.  Pain is cumulative.  Even if it doesn't come from one source, the pain keeps building and building.  People must be aware of this.  

I'll take it one step further - we need to be aware of this, aware that what we say or do has consequences.  Words can hurt.  

So what do we do?  Someone says something that has a sting, what do we do about it?  I am definitely wrestling with this lately.  However I think the only way to be kind to ourselves is to bring it up.  Bring it up with kindness and compassion, but bring it up.  Why?  Because while we want to treat others with kindness, we often forget to treat ourselves with that same kindness.  Surely we deserve it too.  

Update on yesterday's blog: no word from the minister yet.  It is my plan to call them again today and set an appointment.  I do not feel comfortable letting this one go.

Christian Love unless.....

Yesterday I took the kids to play at a privately owned park.  A larger church owns the playground and allows children from the neighborhood play there as long as they are supervised.  We have gone there several times - it is a block from our house, there is a separate area for small kids, the church folk there have been friendly and welcoming.

When we arrived yesterday there were some little kids playing and a few church folk watching them.  Every single time K ran toward them, the workers shooed their kids away.  This happened for about 10 minutes.  I was puzzled but thought that they were protecting K in some way.  Finally a girl approached me and asked me if she could gently push K in the swing while I was nearby.  I told her yes.  Then IT happened.  The worker told me that the kids aren't allowed to play with "People Like Us."

There was the moment of pure Mama Bear rage.  I don't care who you think you are, don't think of my kid as one of Them.  Then it passed.  I thought "maybe it is a liability thing" or "maybe I heard her wrong."  The more I watched these workers though, the more I realized that they were prejudiced against people that came and played at the park. 

We live in a poor,  culturally diverse area.  I have seen the people that attend this church.  Based on the cars the congregants drive and what I've seen while visiting the church, the attendees don't match the demographics of the people that live in this area.  But isn't that why they have the playground - as a service to the community?  There is another large church here (also not representative of our area) and they have locked their playgrounds to prevent "People Like Us" from using it.  Their message is clear, and it makes me furious, but at least it is not being said in front of my children.  

I wonder what sort of People I am.  White middle class female with two fairly well-dressed kids.  That's what I presented at the park.  No political, social, or religious t-shirts, no buttons, I didn't even have any visible tattoos.  I was wearing my wedding ring.  I am baffled.  I am presuming that "People Like Us" are poor people.  *Gasp*  A church allowing poor kids to play on their nice playground equipment - certainly that isn't what Jesus would do.  Every time a poor kid goes down a slide there is a kitten burns in hell.  (Obviously I am typing with a good slathering of sarcasm.  If you didn't know this you're probably pretty confused. And you should stop reading this blog.)

My church has had playground equipment.  The kids in the area defaced it, the thing was falling apart.  The church ended up taking it down for safety purposes, but not because other people were using it.  There is a big field behind our church - people are welcome to use that.  It seems obvious, of course people are welcome in our yard, in our church, with us.  I can't imagine thinking any other way.

I called the minister today to set an appointment and was not able to reach anyone.  I will try again tomorrow.  This is too important to me to leave it alone.  It isn't about my kids, where we can play.  It is about all of those kids.  No, it is even more than that.  I think that, if they are going to profess Christianity, the only way they can prove their faith is to show Christian love to everyone.  Everyone.  Even these cute kiddos.  I'm proud that I'm part of these People.