I'm having a tough time tonight. I'm tired. I'm worn down. I've had enough of this lousy, broken world. For the first time in a long time I feel ready for this world to end and the next to begin.
For anyone who doesn't know me, please, please do not think I'm referring to death in any way. I'm talking about the coming of my Christ and King. I am so tired of the pain and suffering and anger and hurt of this world. I long for the perfection He's promised in the next.
When my Jesus comes again there will be no summers spent in and out of the hospital. There will be no children taking 70 weeks of chemo or having heart valves replaced or rods put in their backs to straighten bent spines or being tested for diabetes. The nursing homes will be empty and those vacant stares will be full of life once more. There will be no anger and broken families. There will be peace. There will be love. There will be kindness.
No one will argue about fast food chicken and presidential candidates. Athletes will be held to the same standards as the rest of us. There will be no worry of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. Insurance will be a fleeting memory instead of a battle to be waged. The things we think so important now will be washed away like sandcastles at high tide.
Jesus calmed the wind and waves with a simple, "Peace! Be still." Tonight I need Him to say those words to my heart.
Showing posts with label struggles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label struggles. Show all posts
August 6, 2012
February 19, 2012
What if your healing comes through tears?
A few months ago, Uncle E called & asked if I would sing a special at church the next day (this was a Saturday afternoon). I said I would & immediately started thinking of what songs I could have ready the next day when he said, "Great! I'll be over in a minute with the CD for you." I was a bit shocked. He wanted me to learn a new song & sing it the next day at church? I've never attempted anything like that & was pretty sure it couldn't be done.
When he got here, he handed me the CD and told me the track number and said, "I heard this on the radio & it really made me think of your Grandma & Grandpa B. I really think it needs to be sung. Thank you so much for doing this." I flipped open the liner notes immediately understood. (The song is called Blessings & it's sung by a young woman named Laura Storey. If you've never heard it, at the very least, please click here & go read the lyrics.)
The song states, in a very simple way, that sometimes God's blessings do not come in the form we think they should. We want health, wealth, and happiness. We want instant gratification. We want our prayers to be answered in a specific way in our own personal timeline. God sees a much bigger picture.
Yesterday I went to visit with Grandma & Grandpa M&M. I hate to admit it, but I hadn't seen them in nearly a year. They only live 3 hours from us, and I would love to go see them on a regular basis, but it never seems to work out. This week end, Husband didn't have to work, no one was sick, and I had a truly free day so I got up early & headed out on my own.
Grandma fell last week and is "very colorful" as she puts it. She got tangled in a cord on Grandpa's hospital bed & went down hard. She fractured her elbow and bruised her hip, ankle and knee pretty badly.
Grandpa has been in the skilled nursing wing of the nursing home for a few months now due to a stroke. He's got a UTI at the moment & he's not very responsive. He also has vascular dementia. He knew who I was when I got there yesterday, but I know the day is coming when he won't. He stares blankly at you when you speak to him. He has long periods of time when he doesn't know what's going on. He is not happy about being separated from Grandma. He cannot care for himself. He cannot walk without falling. It is easy to see the unhappiness in his face.
As I was leaving Grandma's apartment yesterday she told me they were both ready to go. As heartbreaking as the thought is, I knew she was right. They've both lived long, happy lives. They have loved us, God, and each other completely. They know that life does not end here.
Last night I was really struggling with the thought of Grandpa being in the nursing home & fading away slowly. It's a horrible thing to watch someone you love lose bits of themselves every day. Its even harder seeing Grandma try to help him & knowing she can't really fix anything. Why doesn't God just take Grandpa to heaven now? Why is He letting him linger here where he's sad & sick & scared? In heaven, all this would be over. Grandpa would be perfect in a way he's never been here. Why can't that just happen now?
But then another thought came. Who is watching them as they sit together every day? Who sees her holding his hand and worrying over how his hair is combed? Who has heard Grandma mention how much God has blessed them? What lives have they touched? How many people have my parents and aunts & uncles come into contact with that they'd never have met otherwise? What kind of witness does my family have in this place so many think of as hopeless?
Sometimes blessings come with raindrops. Sometimes healing comes through tears. Sometimes a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know He's here. I'm not seeing the big picture. I'm only seeing out of the small window that is my life. Now I have to trust God to do what is best not only for my grandparents, but for the lives of those they're in contact with. In the end, this life is only a vapor & the few years of Grandpa's fading will be only a few drops in that vapor.
Until then, I'm holding onto His hand and the promise that this world is not my home, nor is it the home of those I love. We have been promised a perfect, eternal home.
Someday.
When he got here, he handed me the CD and told me the track number and said, "I heard this on the radio & it really made me think of your Grandma & Grandpa B. I really think it needs to be sung. Thank you so much for doing this." I flipped open the liner notes immediately understood. (The song is called Blessings & it's sung by a young woman named Laura Storey. If you've never heard it, at the very least, please click here & go read the lyrics.)
The song states, in a very simple way, that sometimes God's blessings do not come in the form we think they should. We want health, wealth, and happiness. We want instant gratification. We want our prayers to be answered in a specific way in our own personal timeline. God sees a much bigger picture.
Yesterday I went to visit with Grandma & Grandpa M&M. I hate to admit it, but I hadn't seen them in nearly a year. They only live 3 hours from us, and I would love to go see them on a regular basis, but it never seems to work out. This week end, Husband didn't have to work, no one was sick, and I had a truly free day so I got up early & headed out on my own.
Grandma fell last week and is "very colorful" as she puts it. She got tangled in a cord on Grandpa's hospital bed & went down hard. She fractured her elbow and bruised her hip, ankle and knee pretty badly.
Grandpa has been in the skilled nursing wing of the nursing home for a few months now due to a stroke. He's got a UTI at the moment & he's not very responsive. He also has vascular dementia. He knew who I was when I got there yesterday, but I know the day is coming when he won't. He stares blankly at you when you speak to him. He has long periods of time when he doesn't know what's going on. He is not happy about being separated from Grandma. He cannot care for himself. He cannot walk without falling. It is easy to see the unhappiness in his face.
As I was leaving Grandma's apartment yesterday she told me they were both ready to go. As heartbreaking as the thought is, I knew she was right. They've both lived long, happy lives. They have loved us, God, and each other completely. They know that life does not end here.
Last night I was really struggling with the thought of Grandpa being in the nursing home & fading away slowly. It's a horrible thing to watch someone you love lose bits of themselves every day. Its even harder seeing Grandma try to help him & knowing she can't really fix anything. Why doesn't God just take Grandpa to heaven now? Why is He letting him linger here where he's sad & sick & scared? In heaven, all this would be over. Grandpa would be perfect in a way he's never been here. Why can't that just happen now?
But then another thought came. Who is watching them as they sit together every day? Who sees her holding his hand and worrying over how his hair is combed? Who has heard Grandma mention how much God has blessed them? What lives have they touched? How many people have my parents and aunts & uncles come into contact with that they'd never have met otherwise? What kind of witness does my family have in this place so many think of as hopeless?
Sometimes blessings come with raindrops. Sometimes healing comes through tears. Sometimes a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know He's here. I'm not seeing the big picture. I'm only seeing out of the small window that is my life. Now I have to trust God to do what is best not only for my grandparents, but for the lives of those they're in contact with. In the end, this life is only a vapor & the few years of Grandpa's fading will be only a few drops in that vapor.
Until then, I'm holding onto His hand and the promise that this world is not my home, nor is it the home of those I love. We have been promised a perfect, eternal home.
Someday.
October 4, 2011
Introspection
I have very recently discovered in myself the capacity for hate. I'm talking about blinding hatred that makes you wish someone not only dead but burning in hell. I've never felt this before & I do not like it. I've felt anger. I've felt disgust with people. But I have never wished the torments of hell on someone before. Never.
I'm being starkly honest here in a way I am not normally. I vent frustrations here. I get aggravated & rant, but I rarely unleash my inner darkness.
Someone is threatening a person I love. I cannot be more specific than that, so please do not ask.
In the past I've felt serious dislike for people. I've wanted nothing to do with certain individuals. I've wanted people to drop off the face of the earth. But never have I wished the things I wish on this person before. Yes, I know this is completely hypocritical. I know that I blogged about God's grace & forgiveness when Bin Laden was killed. I know that I've preached love for people who hate me. I've written about mercy & kindness quite a few times. But none of that changes what I'm feeling in my gut at this minute.
Part of the issue is that this is deeply personal. Bin Laden didn't touch my life in a daily manner. This person does. I know that doesn't make this right, but at the moment, I'm not going for right. I'm going for honest & raw. God knows I feel this way. He's the only thing that's going to get me through this. There's no point in lying about it & trying to cover it up. He knows my innermost being. He knows when I'm mad enough to stab someone. I might as well lay it out on the table & let Him go to work on me. I'm also hoping that my feeling this horrible turmoil may help someone else who's struggling. I would never want anyone to think that you have to be perfect and think good things all the time to be a Christan. God knows we're flawed. He accepts & loves us as we are. That is the truly amazing thing about grace.
I am struggling. I understand that the damage that I inflict will only be on myself & that my hatred will in no way bind the person it's directed towards.
As I was writing this post, I popped over to Facebook to check out the happenings & this was one of the first things in my feed:
Now, I do not believe in coincidence. I also know I'm light years away from forgiving this individual for the harm they are inflicting, but deep down, I hope & pray that someday the peace that passes understanding will heal this hurt & allow forgiveness to begin. Until then, I can only do my best to try to keep my head above water & not drown in hatred.
September 2, 2011
Proving- once again- that I am not smarter than a fifth grader.
As if the game show wasn't enough to put me in my place, BabyGirl is officially a fifth grader. Every time I've watched AYSTA5thG I've thought, "That's insane! There's no way there teaching that in the 5th grade." Well, I'm here to tell you- I was wrong. So very wrong.
This week's Social Studies question: Explain each item & tell how it relates to free enterprise- economy, profit, supply & demand, import & export, consumer.
Whaaa?
Um....yeah...Free Enterprise...I know this one...it's....it's when....does it have something to do with Star Trek?
Science question: Name a group of organisms of only one kind that can interbreed in nature.
I am so gonna' fail 5th grade.
Luckily BabyGirl seems to have a better grasp on cellular structure and the ins & outs of Free Enterprise. Maybe she can tutor me.
In the meantime, I'm totally kicking first grade math's butt. Need 6's & 7's written on a dotted line? I'm your girl. Need a 3 blocks colored out of a row of 10? I can handle that. Need the shape on the right circled? Give me a second to think about which side is the right & which is the left & I'll get it done.
Third grade homework, thus far, hasn't given me too much trouble, but I know that time is coming. Soon there will be science where I'll get tangled in a sea of simple machines. And Social studies where the branches of government will reduce me to a mindless blob on the steps of the capitol building (distinguished from the other mindless blobs on Capitol Hill only by my sweat pants and t-shirts as opposed to their Italian silk pin-stripes).
Perhaps I should rethink my current goal of going back to school so I can be a teacher's aid. Most teachers (and parents for that matter) would much rather have someone proficient in multiplication and basic grammar...not a mathematically challenged ellipse addict.
But on a positive note- I sure can read!
This week's Social Studies question: Explain each item & tell how it relates to free enterprise- economy, profit, supply & demand, import & export, consumer.
Whaaa?
Um....yeah...Free Enterprise...I know this one...it's....it's when....does it have something to do with Star Trek?
Science question: Name a group of organisms of only one kind that can interbreed in nature.
I am so gonna' fail 5th grade.
Luckily BabyGirl seems to have a better grasp on cellular structure and the ins & outs of Free Enterprise. Maybe she can tutor me.
In the meantime, I'm totally kicking first grade math's butt. Need 6's & 7's written on a dotted line? I'm your girl. Need a 3 blocks colored out of a row of 10? I can handle that. Need the shape on the right circled? Give me a second to think about which side is the right & which is the left & I'll get it done.
Third grade homework, thus far, hasn't given me too much trouble, but I know that time is coming. Soon there will be science where I'll get tangled in a sea of simple machines. And Social studies where the branches of government will reduce me to a mindless blob on the steps of the capitol building (distinguished from the other mindless blobs on Capitol Hill only by my sweat pants and t-shirts as opposed to their Italian silk pin-stripes).
Perhaps I should rethink my current goal of going back to school so I can be a teacher's aid. Most teachers (and parents for that matter) would much rather have someone proficient in multiplication and basic grammar...not a mathematically challenged ellipse addict.
But on a positive note- I sure can read!
June 27, 2011
Letting Go.
This is probably the strangest thing I've ever asked you all, but I ask it in all seriousness. Will you please pray that God would take Grandma in Country soon? It's not that we don't love her or that we don't want her with us. It's that we don't want her to suffer any longer.
She has been unable to eat for quite a while. The last food she had, that I know of, was 2 bites of gravy last Tuesday. She cannot drink because she's aspirating everything into her lungs. She has been unconscious (with the exception of a brief amount of time on Friday) for at least 5 days. A catheter had to be used to drain her bladder on Saturday because it was distended. She doesn't have the strength to talk, hold a hand, or open her eyes more than a tiny bit every few days. She's on morphine for pain and oxygen to aid her rapid breathing. Husband's aunts are keeping constant vigil at her bedside to swab out her mouth, dress her bedsore, check her diaper, and try to keep her as comfortable as possible. I know they would keep vigil as long as necessary if it meant keeping their mother with them, but I also know Grandma would be much better off in Heaven.
We haven't had the kids in to see her at all because I would much rather they remember Grandma-great (as they call her) the way she was in church giving them their gum & Sunday School money every week. And to be honest, she looks horrible. It's a terrible feeling to see someone laying in a hospital bed just a shell of their former self & I don't want my kids to have that memory. With Grandma, the change has been gradual, but it's dramatic none the less. When Husband and I were married she was a very large woman. My estimate for her weight would be upwards of 250 pounds. Currently she's probably around 70 pounds. She is so frail & wasted that I fear it would frighten the FarmHands more than comfort them.
Husband went to see her Friday when I was in town & his aunts tell me Grandma opened her eyes and spoke for the first time in days shortly after he arrived. She told everyone she loved them (out loud as opposed to just mouthing the way she'd been doing for weeks before she took her turn for the worst) and hugged everyone there. SIL took her kids by to see her Friday and Grandma hugged them, too. She must've been somewhat lucid on & off that afternoon. But that was the last time.
I know asking for prayers for someone to die may not seem like the kindest or most loving thing to do, but I know that Grandma knows and loves Jesus. I know that when she dies, it will only be an ending here on Earth and that she will be hole and healthy in Heaven. I know that Grandpa is waiting for her having gone ahead of her about 5 years ago. I know that the Lord will be waiting for her with open arms. What I'm asking is for her, not for us.
You can go, Grandma. We love you and we'll see you again someday. When you get there, could you give my love to Grandma B.? I'm sure you two will have a nice long chat.
Updated at 6:15 pm- Husband's cousin just posted this on Facebook:
my grandma is still hanging on..but only very little. Heart is working twice as hard, labored breathing. Respirations are low and pulse is around 115-120. This has taken its toll on all the family emotionally, mentally, and physically.
She has been unable to eat for quite a while. The last food she had, that I know of, was 2 bites of gravy last Tuesday. She cannot drink because she's aspirating everything into her lungs. She has been unconscious (with the exception of a brief amount of time on Friday) for at least 5 days. A catheter had to be used to drain her bladder on Saturday because it was distended. She doesn't have the strength to talk, hold a hand, or open her eyes more than a tiny bit every few days. She's on morphine for pain and oxygen to aid her rapid breathing. Husband's aunts are keeping constant vigil at her bedside to swab out her mouth, dress her bedsore, check her diaper, and try to keep her as comfortable as possible. I know they would keep vigil as long as necessary if it meant keeping their mother with them, but I also know Grandma would be much better off in Heaven.
We haven't had the kids in to see her at all because I would much rather they remember Grandma-great (as they call her) the way she was in church giving them their gum & Sunday School money every week. And to be honest, she looks horrible. It's a terrible feeling to see someone laying in a hospital bed just a shell of their former self & I don't want my kids to have that memory. With Grandma, the change has been gradual, but it's dramatic none the less. When Husband and I were married she was a very large woman. My estimate for her weight would be upwards of 250 pounds. Currently she's probably around 70 pounds. She is so frail & wasted that I fear it would frighten the FarmHands more than comfort them.
Husband went to see her Friday when I was in town & his aunts tell me Grandma opened her eyes and spoke for the first time in days shortly after he arrived. She told everyone she loved them (out loud as opposed to just mouthing the way she'd been doing for weeks before she took her turn for the worst) and hugged everyone there. SIL took her kids by to see her Friday and Grandma hugged them, too. She must've been somewhat lucid on & off that afternoon. But that was the last time.
I know asking for prayers for someone to die may not seem like the kindest or most loving thing to do, but I know that Grandma knows and loves Jesus. I know that when she dies, it will only be an ending here on Earth and that she will be hole and healthy in Heaven. I know that Grandpa is waiting for her having gone ahead of her about 5 years ago. I know that the Lord will be waiting for her with open arms. What I'm asking is for her, not for us.
You can go, Grandma. We love you and we'll see you again someday. When you get there, could you give my love to Grandma B.? I'm sure you two will have a nice long chat.
Updated at 6:15 pm- Husband's cousin just posted this on Facebook:
my grandma is still hanging on..but only very little. Heart is working twice as hard, labored breathing. Respirations are low and pulse is around 115-120. This has taken its toll on all the family emotionally, mentally, and physically.
February 27, 2011
Somethings you don't want to have to learn.
Yesterday morning, Busha called me to tell me they'd taken Grandma B to the hospital. They suspected she'd had a stroke. Long story, short: It's not a stroke but a UTI. Apparently in geriatric patients, UTI's can mimic a stroke or dementia.
Uncle Gick & I sat with her most of the day yesterday so Grandma B & Unkie Di could get some rest (they'd been up with her all night). We spent the first few hours trying to keep her in bed & make her leave her IV in. Eventually she settled down & fell asleep.
Last night, when Unkie Di & Grandpa B were with her, she got upset & restless again. Uncle Gick told me she'd had a really bad night. Please pray she gets some rest tonight & the antibiotics will clear this infection up quickly so she can come home.
I did learn a few things yesterday.
Uncle Gick & I sat with her most of the day yesterday so Grandma B & Unkie Di could get some rest (they'd been up with her all night). We spent the first few hours trying to keep her in bed & make her leave her IV in. Eventually she settled down & fell asleep.
Last night, when Unkie Di & Grandpa B were with her, she got upset & restless again. Uncle Gick told me she'd had a really bad night. Please pray she gets some rest tonight & the antibiotics will clear this infection up quickly so she can come home.
I did learn a few things yesterday.
- Sitting with a sick loved one can be scary, but in the end, you'll be glad you did.
- UTI's not only cause dementia symptoms in older people, they will also cause people to want to disrobe. (Yup, getting naked is an actual symptom.)
- Dealing with someone who's suffering from dementia is much like dealing with a stubborn toddler. There's no use arguing, just try and re-direct them. And the kindest, calmest, sweetest of people can get surprisingly rowdy when they're out of it.
- Good nurses who work in nursing homes do not get paid enough.
- Grandma B is not impressed with the hospital's mashed potatoes.
February 3, 2011
Ups and Downs
This week has been full of them. Some extreme, some not so much.
Saturday we got some bad news about Grandpa & Grandma M&M. Since Grandpa broke his ankle he's been having some other health issues and their doctor told Grandma he can't come home. Grandma cannot take care of him on her own. So Grandpa is still in the nursing home working on getting better while Grandma stays in their appartment. It's tough on everyone because with the exception of hospital stays, they've not been apart in my memory. I'm praying that Grandpa will get his strenght back & something can be arranged so they can be together again.
Then there was the impending Snowmageddon 2011...that didn't exactly live up to the hype. At least not at my house. And for that I am eternally grateful! We got a brief glazing of ice and a dusting of snow. The power went out for a few seconds 3 or 4 times. The kids haven't missed a day of school all week. I have not been trapped in the house. These things make me very happy.
Our Wii bit the dust in the middle of the power flashes Tuesday. I tried everything I could to get it working again. Husband was ready to pack it up and send it back. In a last ditch attempt at a video consol ressurection, we took it to another outlet & plugged it in. Ta-da, Magic (as Bitsy would say)! It's working again and we didn't lose the hours of "work" I put into buying Darth Maul and Jango Fette or opening up the Zumbathon. That would have been devastating.
And I'm pretty sure someone has tacked 3 extra days on this week. I woke up certain that it was Friday but feeling like it should be Saturday. Much to my chagrin, it's only Thursday. Where's a TARDIS when you need one?
Saturday we got some bad news about Grandpa & Grandma M&M. Since Grandpa broke his ankle he's been having some other health issues and their doctor told Grandma he can't come home. Grandma cannot take care of him on her own. So Grandpa is still in the nursing home working on getting better while Grandma stays in their appartment. It's tough on everyone because with the exception of hospital stays, they've not been apart in my memory. I'm praying that Grandpa will get his strenght back & something can be arranged so they can be together again.
Then there was the impending Snowmageddon 2011...that didn't exactly live up to the hype. At least not at my house. And for that I am eternally grateful! We got a brief glazing of ice and a dusting of snow. The power went out for a few seconds 3 or 4 times. The kids haven't missed a day of school all week. I have not been trapped in the house. These things make me very happy.
Our Wii bit the dust in the middle of the power flashes Tuesday. I tried everything I could to get it working again. Husband was ready to pack it up and send it back. In a last ditch attempt at a video consol ressurection, we took it to another outlet & plugged it in. Ta-da, Magic (as Bitsy would say)! It's working again and we didn't lose the hours of "work" I put into buying Darth Maul and Jango Fette or opening up the Zumbathon. That would have been devastating.
And I'm pretty sure someone has tacked 3 extra days on this week. I woke up certain that it was Friday but feeling like it should be Saturday. Much to my chagrin, it's only Thursday. Where's a TARDIS when you need one?
January 20, 2011
Pondering & Praying.
I'm trying not to worry, but I think that may go against human nature.
Grandma M&M couldn't get out of bed on Saturday morning. She was very dizzy and ended up in the hospital. She has a history of strokes, so we tend to get concerned over things like this. The doctors said she has an inner ear ear "problem." She's on new medicine and back at the apartment now.
While she was in the hospital, Grandpa fell in the bathroom & broke his ankle. Uncle Greenteeth was with him and called the medics. He was also dehydrated (something he is prone to) and has a bladder infection. He was being moved to the rehab/nursing facility of the center where their apartment is for 2 weeks.
Bucka is having a tough winter. He's had shingles and he & Busha have both been ill with various viruses.
Grandma B (Unkie Di's mother) is not doing well. Her pacemaker is keeping her heart beating but she is so weak she can't really leave the house. I doubt Grandpa B will be able to bring her to church any more.
I am bracing myself for the inevitable. It's a horrible thought, but I know I cannot live the rest of my life with all my grandparents. The fact that they've all lived as long as they have and in the health they've enjoyed thus far is nothing short of a miracle. I even have a few "collected" grandparents left living. I am beyond blessed in this measure. I know that. I am trying to keep in mind that when the time comes I know that my grands all love the Lord. They are all going to be with Him in heaven. I will see them all again some day.
But I'm just not ready to stop seeing them here.
Would you please pray?
Grandma M&M couldn't get out of bed on Saturday morning. She was very dizzy and ended up in the hospital. She has a history of strokes, so we tend to get concerned over things like this. The doctors said she has an inner ear ear "problem." She's on new medicine and back at the apartment now.
While she was in the hospital, Grandpa fell in the bathroom & broke his ankle. Uncle Greenteeth was with him and called the medics. He was also dehydrated (something he is prone to) and has a bladder infection. He was being moved to the rehab/nursing facility of the center where their apartment is for 2 weeks.
Bucka is having a tough winter. He's had shingles and he & Busha have both been ill with various viruses.
Grandma B (Unkie Di's mother) is not doing well. Her pacemaker is keeping her heart beating but she is so weak she can't really leave the house. I doubt Grandpa B will be able to bring her to church any more.
I am bracing myself for the inevitable. It's a horrible thought, but I know I cannot live the rest of my life with all my grandparents. The fact that they've all lived as long as they have and in the health they've enjoyed thus far is nothing short of a miracle. I even have a few "collected" grandparents left living. I am beyond blessed in this measure. I know that. I am trying to keep in mind that when the time comes I know that my grands all love the Lord. They are all going to be with Him in heaven. I will see them all again some day.
But I'm just not ready to stop seeing them here.
Would you please pray?
January 19, 2011
And life comes to a screeching halt.
I no more than hit publish on my last post when things went to Hades around here. Well, it did for Bitsy, anyway.
She had just finished her chocolate chip cookie when she proudly brought me another. "Dis one for Moomah!" She was so happy to have gotten a cookie for her imaginary friend. I said, "No. Moomah can't have a cookie. I have to put it up." Most things gotten for Moomah become Bitsy's possessions.
This must have caused some kind of catastrophe that I know nothing of because Bitsy collapsed on the floor in a heap of sobs and tears. Her poor little heart was absolutely shattered because Moomah was not allowed a cookie.
Being a mother, I picked up the sobbing pile and sat it on my lap. Between gasps and sobs she told me she wanted to take a shower. "You've already had your bath tonight, Baby." I thought the crying couldn't get worse.
I was wrong.
She must have had a few tenuous strands of self control still in her grasp & when I denied her a shower the snapped. Screams, sobs, wails of misery erupted from her tiny form. "Me not say me want a bath. Me say me want a shower. Why me never get a take a shower? Why #1 Son take a shower? Me want a bath!"
She was so upset she slid off my lap and hollered, "Don't touch me!" Unfortunately, she's only three and really needs to be held when her world falls apart. It took her about 7 seconds to realize I was the only parental unit available for comfort and she returned to my lap to sob out the remainder of the moisture left in her body.
It is so hard being three.
She had just finished her chocolate chip cookie when she proudly brought me another. "Dis one for Moomah!" She was so happy to have gotten a cookie for her imaginary friend. I said, "No. Moomah can't have a cookie. I have to put it up." Most things gotten for Moomah become Bitsy's possessions.
This must have caused some kind of catastrophe that I know nothing of because Bitsy collapsed on the floor in a heap of sobs and tears. Her poor little heart was absolutely shattered because Moomah was not allowed a cookie.
Being a mother, I picked up the sobbing pile and sat it on my lap. Between gasps and sobs she told me she wanted to take a shower. "You've already had your bath tonight, Baby." I thought the crying couldn't get worse.
I was wrong.
She must have had a few tenuous strands of self control still in her grasp & when I denied her a shower the snapped. Screams, sobs, wails of misery erupted from her tiny form. "Me not say me want a bath. Me say me want a shower. Why me never get a take a shower? Why #1 Son take a shower? Me want a bath!"
She was so upset she slid off my lap and hollered, "Don't touch me!" Unfortunately, she's only three and really needs to be held when her world falls apart. It took her about 7 seconds to realize I was the only parental unit available for comfort and she returned to my lap to sob out the remainder of the moisture left in her body.
It is so hard being three.
January 7, 2011
Deep Breaths
Bitsy just found a twenty cent piece her dad brought back from a mission trip to Mexico 10 years ago. She asked if she could have it & I said yes. "Thank you pretty much," she replied followed by shouts of, "Me keep dis forever & forever & forever & forever!"
Her favorite magic trick is hiding her hands behind her back & saying, "Hey,wheremyhandsgo?Ta-da!Magic!" all in one breath as she jerks them up in front of her face.
In spite of all the hilarity happening around me, I'm struggling to keep it together tonight. My head hurts. The FarmHands are hell bent on making me nuts. There are tasks that need tackling that I simply do not have the motivation to get to now.
It snowed last night. Just enough to make the side roads slippery & a very sleepy Husband have to crawl out of bed & drive me to town for groceries. The snow kept falling all afternoon but oddly what was on the ground continued to melt. Now it's a cold, slushy, muddy mess which means the FarmHands will be house bound all weekend. This is not a good prospect at the moment.
Maybe a session of Zumba will help. It sure can't hurt. Unless of course I pass out in the floor and the FarmHands are left to fend for themselves until their father gets home from work at odd hours of the morning.
Her favorite magic trick is hiding her hands behind her back & saying, "Hey,wheremyhandsgo?Ta-da!Magic!" all in one breath as she jerks them up in front of her face.
In spite of all the hilarity happening around me, I'm struggling to keep it together tonight. My head hurts. The FarmHands are hell bent on making me nuts. There are tasks that need tackling that I simply do not have the motivation to get to now.
It snowed last night. Just enough to make the side roads slippery & a very sleepy Husband have to crawl out of bed & drive me to town for groceries. The snow kept falling all afternoon but oddly what was on the ground continued to melt. Now it's a cold, slushy, muddy mess which means the FarmHands will be house bound all weekend. This is not a good prospect at the moment.
Maybe a session of Zumba will help. It sure can't hurt. Unless of course I pass out in the floor and the FarmHands are left to fend for themselves until their father gets home from work at odd hours of the morning.
December 6, 2010
Why do I do these things to myself?
It's quiet time at our house. Bitsy is sitting on my lap watching Nick Junior and "texting" on an old cell phone her Uncle Little B-I-L gave her last night. She's letting me hug her and smell her hair all I want....well, she was until I typed that, then she hopped down and ran to the TV because the best show of all time just started: Olivia.
Kork posted something on Facebook today about getting her oldest signed up for Kindergarten. Next fall, Bitsy will start Preschool. I'm not sure I'm OK with this. She's my baby. I'd keep her that way indefinitely if I could. I fear what the next few years will bring. I don't do well with change.
Husband really wants me to return to work in some form after Bitsy starts full time Kindergarten. The thought boggles my mind. Sure, we could use the money....with four kids how could we not? But I wouldn't even know where to begin looking. I'm not the Mary Kay, Longaberger, Tupperware type. I don't have the flexibility to go into peoples homes and hawk my wares. I'd love to try my hand a Etsy, but doubt that would be enough to put marshmallows on the table much less bacon. I really have no marketable skills.
I dropped out at the end of my second year of college. I had no real desire to finish school. I have no real desire to go back now. I have no clue what I'd even want to do given the opportunity. It's kind of a horrifying thought.
I'm not the type of mother who wants to spend 24 hours a day 7 days a week in the company of her children. I have serious guilt about this. I'd love to be a homeschooling mama with a line of ducks following me about on nature walks and learning adventures after we finished our vocabulary lesson at the breakfast table....but I know myself. Homeschooling around here would turn into serious headbutting and an eventual spiral into hours in front of PBS kids hoping they learn something...anything.
I have a tendency to feel like a lousy mother because I so desperately wanted to stay home with my kids but on the same hand so desperately want them to leave the house and go to school every day. And now the thought of leaving the house to pursue the almighty dollar is even more daunting.
I realize I'm worrying about something that is a good year and a half in my future. Worry does no good. I cannot change anything about my future by worrying. So I'm hoping to dump all this here in the blog ether and hope it stays here.
Kork posted something on Facebook today about getting her oldest signed up for Kindergarten. Next fall, Bitsy will start Preschool. I'm not sure I'm OK with this. She's my baby. I'd keep her that way indefinitely if I could. I fear what the next few years will bring. I don't do well with change.
Husband really wants me to return to work in some form after Bitsy starts full time Kindergarten. The thought boggles my mind. Sure, we could use the money....with four kids how could we not? But I wouldn't even know where to begin looking. I'm not the Mary Kay, Longaberger, Tupperware type. I don't have the flexibility to go into peoples homes and hawk my wares. I'd love to try my hand a Etsy, but doubt that would be enough to put marshmallows on the table much less bacon. I really have no marketable skills.
I dropped out at the end of my second year of college. I had no real desire to finish school. I have no real desire to go back now. I have no clue what I'd even want to do given the opportunity. It's kind of a horrifying thought.
I'm not the type of mother who wants to spend 24 hours a day 7 days a week in the company of her children. I have serious guilt about this. I'd love to be a homeschooling mama with a line of ducks following me about on nature walks and learning adventures after we finished our vocabulary lesson at the breakfast table....but I know myself. Homeschooling around here would turn into serious headbutting and an eventual spiral into hours in front of PBS kids hoping they learn something...anything.
I have a tendency to feel like a lousy mother because I so desperately wanted to stay home with my kids but on the same hand so desperately want them to leave the house and go to school every day. And now the thought of leaving the house to pursue the almighty dollar is even more daunting.
I realize I'm worrying about something that is a good year and a half in my future. Worry does no good. I cannot change anything about my future by worrying. So I'm hoping to dump all this here in the blog ether and hope it stays here.
December 2, 2010
Feeling Exposed
OK, I realize this post may be a bit of a leap from where I usually live, but it's something that is laying heavily on my heart right now...and where better to get it out than here on my little plot of Internet.
Here are somethings you may or may not know about me (please, if you are offended by any of this, keep reading and know that is not my intent). I am a staunch pro-life supporter. I believe life is sacred but I am not opposed to the death penalty in extreme cases (you may think this is a contradiction, but I disagree). I believe marriage is a sacred covenant between one man, one woman, and God. I believe lying is wrong...even the little white lies we tell. I tend towards the more charismatic side of Christianity than the conservative side my congregation leans to. I believe that sin is sin and there is no excuse for it. I believe that evil is real and man is fallen. That is who I am.
All that being said, if you are homosexual, I can still love you. If you are an abortionist, I can still love you. If you are a liar, cheat, thief or murderer, I can still love you. No matter who you are or what you have done in your life, you are still created in the image of God. You still have worth and still deserve kindness, respect, and love. And I'm not talking about the kind of "love" that says, "I'll love you in theory but stay away from me." I'm talking about true, unconditional love.
I'm not a good person. I'm horribly flawed. I do not live the way I should. I am angry. I gossip. I hate. I'm prone to laziness. I'm selfish and undeserving of grace. But my God is bigger than all my faults. He loves me regardless of how stained I am. How can I possibly withhold my love from someone because I deem them "unworthy."
God's love does not hinge on what we do or to not do. It is because we are His creations. He love us. He calls us to love each other. That does not mean we are to turn a blind eye to sin and pretend it is something good. It means that we are to love each other through sin. We do what we can to support and help each other. We do what we can to uplift and council each other, but in the end we love. Unconditionally.
It's a horribly hard thing to do. It's not something I'm good at. There are people I do not want to love. I struggle with that. Why should I love someone who has molested a child? That person deserves hell. Why should I love someone who has beat his wife through out their marriage? He deserves hell. Why should I love the perverse and corrupt? They deserve hell. Why should I love people who have wronged me or those I love? If not deserving of hell, at lease they are undeserving of my love, right? But in the end, I am no different from any of them. No matter how good I may strive to be, I'm still living in my sin and God sees no difference between us. That's a hard thing to come to terms with. I'm not there, not by a long shot.
But please do not tell me that because I stand by my morals that I am close minded. My heart is still open to love those that disagree and that means my mind must be as well. Just because I disagree with you or your actions, that does not mean I do not love you as a child of God. Christ died for my sins. Because of His sacrifice I can be clean. That is the only reason. And because of His sacrifice anyone can be clean. Even those we deem the most horrifically dirty. There is no line to be crossed into a place where Christ's blood is not enough to clean you. Because of His blood, we are all capable of being saved. And because of salvation we are all called to love.
Here are somethings you may or may not know about me (please, if you are offended by any of this, keep reading and know that is not my intent). I am a staunch pro-life supporter. I believe life is sacred but I am not opposed to the death penalty in extreme cases (you may think this is a contradiction, but I disagree). I believe marriage is a sacred covenant between one man, one woman, and God. I believe lying is wrong...even the little white lies we tell. I tend towards the more charismatic side of Christianity than the conservative side my congregation leans to. I believe that sin is sin and there is no excuse for it. I believe that evil is real and man is fallen. That is who I am.
All that being said, if you are homosexual, I can still love you. If you are an abortionist, I can still love you. If you are a liar, cheat, thief or murderer, I can still love you. No matter who you are or what you have done in your life, you are still created in the image of God. You still have worth and still deserve kindness, respect, and love. And I'm not talking about the kind of "love" that says, "I'll love you in theory but stay away from me." I'm talking about true, unconditional love.
I'm not a good person. I'm horribly flawed. I do not live the way I should. I am angry. I gossip. I hate. I'm prone to laziness. I'm selfish and undeserving of grace. But my God is bigger than all my faults. He loves me regardless of how stained I am. How can I possibly withhold my love from someone because I deem them "unworthy."
God's love does not hinge on what we do or to not do. It is because we are His creations. He love us. He calls us to love each other. That does not mean we are to turn a blind eye to sin and pretend it is something good. It means that we are to love each other through sin. We do what we can to support and help each other. We do what we can to uplift and council each other, but in the end we love. Unconditionally.
It's a horribly hard thing to do. It's not something I'm good at. There are people I do not want to love. I struggle with that. Why should I love someone who has molested a child? That person deserves hell. Why should I love someone who has beat his wife through out their marriage? He deserves hell. Why should I love the perverse and corrupt? They deserve hell. Why should I love people who have wronged me or those I love? If not deserving of hell, at lease they are undeserving of my love, right? But in the end, I am no different from any of them. No matter how good I may strive to be, I'm still living in my sin and God sees no difference between us. That's a hard thing to come to terms with. I'm not there, not by a long shot.
But please do not tell me that because I stand by my morals that I am close minded. My heart is still open to love those that disagree and that means my mind must be as well. Just because I disagree with you or your actions, that does not mean I do not love you as a child of God. Christ died for my sins. Because of His sacrifice I can be clean. That is the only reason. And because of His sacrifice anyone can be clean. Even those we deem the most horrifically dirty. There is no line to be crossed into a place where Christ's blood is not enough to clean you. Because of His blood, we are all capable of being saved. And because of salvation we are all called to love.
September 8, 2010
Homeschooling pipe dream
If you don't read Ordinary Days, you really should. Sarah is charming, witty, funny, creative, and a wonderful mother. Last year she undertook Homeschooling her three boys...at the same time she was expecting their fourth child & first girl. Her homeschooling style sounds heavenly. She & her kids take walks, play outside, tinker around the house and all the time she weaves learning into their every day lives.
I have often dreamed of my children sitting at our table with papers, pencils, and books spread out around them a la Dugger Family Homeschool. Bubba & Princess were homeschooled through Junior High & High School. I had grand plans for it myself. But when we ended up in a little school in a little school district with low teacher/student ratios, I changed my mind.
And there was also the issue of BabyGirl & the isolation that was already setting in 5 years ago. BabyGirl was never away from Husband or myself. She had no friends her own age. Our church family was also our blood family. There wasn't much opportunity for her to meet other kids or socialize so I though Pre-K was very important...and it might help her keep her clothing on.
Now, 5 years & 3 kids in school later, part of me wishes homeschooling was an option for us. I think the boys would have no real problems adapting to mom as a teacher. BabyGirl would fight the idea tooth & nail & probably eat ground glass before giving in & admitting I am capable of teaching addition.
The though of doing school work when we want to and not on someone else's schedule is heavenly. The thought of getting our work done in 4 hours as opposed to the 8 hours it takes them in school is bliss. The thought that I wouldn't have to worry about #1 Son learning such touching phrases as "I'm gonna' kick your ass!" makes me warm & fuzzy......but then.....
Then BabyGirl comes home with 3 pages of homework that should take her 45 minutes tops and we're still working on it 4 hours later and I toss all my homeschool dreams in the trash. It's not that she's really struggling with the material. It's that she's struggling with me. And locking horns with me. And butting heads with me. And fighting tooth and nail with me. Over what? Any & Everything.
One minute she's screaming at me to get out of her room because I don't know what I'm talking about and I don't understand what she's trying to do. 20 minutes later she's asking for my help on the same problem and listening attentively while I explain to her that she added 24 to 56 instead of subtracting it.
Besides, at school she has to wear real clothes & not just my old tank tops & a pair of PJ shorts.
I have often dreamed of my children sitting at our table with papers, pencils, and books spread out around them a la Dugger Family Homeschool. Bubba & Princess were homeschooled through Junior High & High School. I had grand plans for it myself. But when we ended up in a little school in a little school district with low teacher/student ratios, I changed my mind.
And there was also the issue of BabyGirl & the isolation that was already setting in 5 years ago. BabyGirl was never away from Husband or myself. She had no friends her own age. Our church family was also our blood family. There wasn't much opportunity for her to meet other kids or socialize so I though Pre-K was very important...and it might help her keep her clothing on.
Now, 5 years & 3 kids in school later, part of me wishes homeschooling was an option for us. I think the boys would have no real problems adapting to mom as a teacher. BabyGirl would fight the idea tooth & nail & probably eat ground glass before giving in & admitting I am capable of teaching addition.
The though of doing school work when we want to and not on someone else's schedule is heavenly. The thought of getting our work done in 4 hours as opposed to the 8 hours it takes them in school is bliss. The thought that I wouldn't have to worry about #1 Son learning such touching phrases as "I'm gonna' kick your ass!" makes me warm & fuzzy......but then.....
Then BabyGirl comes home with 3 pages of homework that should take her 45 minutes tops and we're still working on it 4 hours later and I toss all my homeschool dreams in the trash. It's not that she's really struggling with the material. It's that she's struggling with me. And locking horns with me. And butting heads with me. And fighting tooth and nail with me. Over what? Any & Everything.
One minute she's screaming at me to get out of her room because I don't know what I'm talking about and I don't understand what she's trying to do. 20 minutes later she's asking for my help on the same problem and listening attentively while I explain to her that she added 24 to 56 instead of subtracting it.
Besides, at school she has to wear real clothes & not just my old tank tops & a pair of PJ shorts.
August 27, 2010
Big plans for a small step.
Today may have been the culmination of the past few months of feeling blah. Today I cried...quite a bit. Not one giant sobbing mess, more like a few tears here & a few more there....all day long. I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I'm aggravated. I'm angry. I'm lonely. I'm apathetic. I'm depressed.
Yup. I'm depressed. Really depressed. This goes way beyond just feeling blah. I told Busha today I have three moods: angry, sad, and apathetic. This is no way to live. It's pretty miserable.
I've finally come to the conclusion that it is time to get help. Serious help. Not "chat with your best girlfriend over a bottle of Chablis" help. The kind folks go to school for 7 years before they're allowed to help. Talking to Art & my mom has helped me come to this conclusion. I can't say I've ever really headed down this road before. I was in therapy a total of 2 days before I decide to move to Illinois in the first place. I'm pretty sure Husband doesn't understand any of this. He was raised in an area (and by people) who live by the idea that you do what you must & that's all you need.
I haven't made an appointment yet. Unkie Di works in a field where she comes in contact with many mental health professionals, so I'm going to talk to her about finding a good Psychiatrist.
I'm not sure how I feel about it all. I know this isn't going to be easy. I tend to try to down play my lousy feelings. I make light of hurts. I laugh it off when people comment on hard stuff. How exactly do I go about laying it all out for a total stranger? How do I get past feeling guilty weighing some else down with all my baggage? Can you fail therapy? Guess you have to start it first.
Yup. I'm depressed. Really depressed. This goes way beyond just feeling blah. I told Busha today I have three moods: angry, sad, and apathetic. This is no way to live. It's pretty miserable.
I've finally come to the conclusion that it is time to get help. Serious help. Not "chat with your best girlfriend over a bottle of Chablis" help. The kind folks go to school for 7 years before they're allowed to help. Talking to Art & my mom has helped me come to this conclusion. I can't say I've ever really headed down this road before. I was in therapy a total of 2 days before I decide to move to Illinois in the first place. I'm pretty sure Husband doesn't understand any of this. He was raised in an area (and by people) who live by the idea that you do what you must & that's all you need.
I haven't made an appointment yet. Unkie Di works in a field where she comes in contact with many mental health professionals, so I'm going to talk to her about finding a good Psychiatrist.
I'm not sure how I feel about it all. I know this isn't going to be easy. I tend to try to down play my lousy feelings. I make light of hurts. I laugh it off when people comment on hard stuff. How exactly do I go about laying it all out for a total stranger? How do I get past feeling guilty weighing some else down with all my baggage? Can you fail therapy? Guess you have to start it first.
August 20, 2010
Ignore me whilst I moan & bitch.
Sorry, Mama. Sometimes there are no other words to use.
My daughter needs help on her homework...or so she says. When I try to help she gets angry. "You're not helping. You don't know what you're doing. That doesn't make any sense." Yeah, that really makes me want to help in a big, bad way. If her attitude gets any worse right now she'll qualify for an MTV reality show of her very own. She is absolutely lovely at the moment.
My face is broken out worse than it was the last time I was pregnant/nursing. It's just not pretty. No amount of make up will help. I even resorted to the toothpaste as pimple cream last night in desperation. It didn't really help.
Flip flops are verboten in the grade school portion of my kids' school. Because of her SPD, BabyGirl cannot abide "real" shoes. She lives in flip flops all summer if she wears shoes at all. During the school year she wears Crocs with out socks. They must be actual Crocs, not the cheap knock-offs. If you've ever worn the real things you'll know why.
The local medical supply store where we've always bought her Crocs stopped carrying them. No one with in an hour's drive carries them. I cannot pack up all 4 FarmHands and drive an hour & a half to buy a pair of shoes...so I caved in an ordered them on line. I hate doing that because she really needs to try her shoes on prior to purchase. They finally came in today & surprise, surprise, they do not fit. Not even close.
QM is going to try to find her a pair while she's traveling up here tomorrow. I'm ready to pull my hair out over this child's shoe situation.
Babe (the new van) goes into the shop on Monday morning. They've promised me it will be done by Wednesday night. I have to make the above mentioned hour & a half drive with all 4 FarmHands on Thursday. I MUST have my van. Husband MUST have his to drive to work. I'm a bit nervous.
I do not normally over-schedule us but next week is full. I mean FULL. Monday is our snack day for the kindergarten class, so I have to deliver 17 bananas before taking Babe into the shop. B.B. has an eye doctor's appointment Monday at 4 (Busha is going to loan me her old car so I can get him to town while his dad's at work).
Wednesday I have to pick up the van. Thursday,the three oldest kids are having dental work including, but not limited too: fillings, caps, sealants, and one tooth pulled (and there is nothing I love more than dental work on children).
Friday, #1 Son had an eye doctor's appointment because he's got to get new glasses. He has out grown the first pair we bought him (we had the lenses replaced when his vision changed) and the second pair makes his face & ears break out horribly (like bleeding-and-oozing-despite-the-clear-coat-of-nail-polish-I-put-on-them-to-keep-the-nickle-from-touching-his-skin horrible). I'm really hoping they have an all plastic frame that is suitable for a 7 year old boy. I don't want to send him to second grade looking like Ugly Betty.
Saturday is NM & A Starry Night's wedding. I'm really looking forward to it, but fear things could deteriorate before we ever get there. Husband is not the social butterfly I am. The FarmHands are not quite "formal event" broken. I really want to enjoy myself & the day, but just don't see it happening the way I'd like it to.
I'm hormonal and emotional and tired. I'm missing my best friend like crazy. I'm talking wicked-bad-crazy.
I'm sick to death of being yelled at by children who are delusional enough to think that #1 they know better than me and #2 that it's acceptable to yell at me.
I'm tired of the bickering and fighting during the few hours they are home & in the same room.
I hate that my husband has to work 10 & 12 hours a day 5 days a week and 6 hours more on Saturday.
I hate that the kids aren't going to get to see much of their dad during the school year.
I'm so sick of the oppressive heat & humidity that has trapped us indoors this summer.
I'm ready for a hard frost (and I am never ready for cold weather) that will kill off the ticks & chiggers so that if we do get a half way decent day we can get outside.
If you've made it this far, God bless you. I'm pretty sure He's sick of hearing me complain. I know it's all petty. I know that I am blessed. But at this moment it's more comfortable to lay face down in the mud than to roll over and look up at the sky. I need an attitude adjustment just as badly as BabyGirl.
My daughter needs help on her homework...or so she says. When I try to help she gets angry. "You're not helping. You don't know what you're doing. That doesn't make any sense." Yeah, that really makes me want to help in a big, bad way. If her attitude gets any worse right now she'll qualify for an MTV reality show of her very own. She is absolutely lovely at the moment.
My face is broken out worse than it was the last time I was pregnant/nursing. It's just not pretty. No amount of make up will help. I even resorted to the toothpaste as pimple cream last night in desperation. It didn't really help.
Flip flops are verboten in the grade school portion of my kids' school. Because of her SPD, BabyGirl cannot abide "real" shoes. She lives in flip flops all summer if she wears shoes at all. During the school year she wears Crocs with out socks. They must be actual Crocs, not the cheap knock-offs. If you've ever worn the real things you'll know why.
The local medical supply store where we've always bought her Crocs stopped carrying them. No one with in an hour's drive carries them. I cannot pack up all 4 FarmHands and drive an hour & a half to buy a pair of shoes...so I caved in an ordered them on line. I hate doing that because she really needs to try her shoes on prior to purchase. They finally came in today & surprise, surprise, they do not fit. Not even close.
QM is going to try to find her a pair while she's traveling up here tomorrow. I'm ready to pull my hair out over this child's shoe situation.
Babe (the new van) goes into the shop on Monday morning. They've promised me it will be done by Wednesday night. I have to make the above mentioned hour & a half drive with all 4 FarmHands on Thursday. I MUST have my van. Husband MUST have his to drive to work. I'm a bit nervous.
I do not normally over-schedule us but next week is full. I mean FULL. Monday is our snack day for the kindergarten class, so I have to deliver 17 bananas before taking Babe into the shop. B.B. has an eye doctor's appointment Monday at 4 (Busha is going to loan me her old car so I can get him to town while his dad's at work).
Wednesday I have to pick up the van. Thursday,the three oldest kids are having dental work including, but not limited too: fillings, caps, sealants, and one tooth pulled (and there is nothing I love more than dental work on children).
Friday, #1 Son had an eye doctor's appointment because he's got to get new glasses. He has out grown the first pair we bought him (we had the lenses replaced when his vision changed) and the second pair makes his face & ears break out horribly (like bleeding-and-oozing-despite-the-clear-coat-of-nail-polish-I-put-on-them-to-keep-the-nickle-from-touching-his-skin horrible). I'm really hoping they have an all plastic frame that is suitable for a 7 year old boy. I don't want to send him to second grade looking like Ugly Betty.
Saturday is NM & A Starry Night's wedding. I'm really looking forward to it, but fear things could deteriorate before we ever get there. Husband is not the social butterfly I am. The FarmHands are not quite "formal event" broken. I really want to enjoy myself & the day, but just don't see it happening the way I'd like it to.
I'm hormonal and emotional and tired. I'm missing my best friend like crazy. I'm talking wicked-bad-crazy.
I'm sick to death of being yelled at by children who are delusional enough to think that #1 they know better than me and #2 that it's acceptable to yell at me.
I'm tired of the bickering and fighting during the few hours they are home & in the same room.
I hate that my husband has to work 10 & 12 hours a day 5 days a week and 6 hours more on Saturday.
I hate that the kids aren't going to get to see much of their dad during the school year.
I'm so sick of the oppressive heat & humidity that has trapped us indoors this summer.
I'm ready for a hard frost (and I am never ready for cold weather) that will kill off the ticks & chiggers so that if we do get a half way decent day we can get outside.
If you've made it this far, God bless you. I'm pretty sure He's sick of hearing me complain. I know it's all petty. I know that I am blessed. But at this moment it's more comfortable to lay face down in the mud than to roll over and look up at the sky. I need an attitude adjustment just as badly as BabyGirl.
August 9, 2010
Forget breaking up...Growing Up is hard to do.
Yesterday Husband, the FarmHands, and I loaded up and drove three hours to our North to visit with Grandma & Grandpa M&M. We wanted to see them, check out their new digs, and help QM with a few things at the old house as she's getting it ready for the final yard sale on Saturday.
I have not had the opportunity to go up to visit my grandparents at their house in the past year. I saw them in September at my brother's wedding and again a few weeks later when my cousin and his wife lost their baby. One very happy occasion, one anything but happy. I hate that we don't live closer to them. I hate that it's so hard for us to be able to pack up and drive up to see them. I hate that life in general comes between us.
Every time I go a few months without seeing them, I slip back into imagining them as the people they were when Husband and I were first married. I think of them as the couple who walked 2 miles every day. I think of them as the Church Elder and his wife who visited the shut ins and helped out the old ladies of the congregation who's children were to far away or couldn't be bothered. I think of my grandfather in his basement wood shop piddling around with some project or another. I think of my grandmother baking a cobbler early in the morning so the house won't get too hot in the day time. I think of yards of fabric laid out on the dining table as she cuts out a new suit for herself or a romper for a grandbaby. I think of them as busy, able, strong, capable, and fiercely independent.
In my mind, they're the couple who's moved into the assisted living apartments because they want to downsize, not because they're in need of assistance. They're the vibrant couple who visits with the old ladies shuffling down the halls, helping them with their laundry carts and taking them to hair appointments. They rarely eat at the cafeteria, preferring rather to cook their own meals in their postage stamp sized kitchen. They're rarely home because they are in high social demand in their new community.
Unfortunately, that is just not the case. They are old. That's not something I ever wanted to say about them, but there is simply no other way to put it. Inkling and I always used to say, "They're getting old," but "getting" is no longer the case. They're frailer each time I see them. More stooped each time I see them. Less able to get around and do for themselves than they were a few months back. It breaks my heart a little more each time.
I've stated before, and I won't quit saying it while it's still true, I am so very blessed. I have four living grandparents. They are all lucid and (to an extent) able to care for themselves. QM has stated that I collected grandparents as a child. I adopted neighbors, friends from church, cousin's grandparents, pretty much anyone over the age of 50 who wasn't nailed down. They all became my grandparents. I've lost some of them. I've lost many of them, but I've never lost a grandparent I collected simply by being born.
I know that this fact will not last long. I would love for it to be the case until the FarmHands are grown, but I fear that's asking too much.
Once the "old" house is emptied and officially in the hands of the young couple who bought it, and they are good and settled in in their new place, I pray that this move (& the end of the resulting stress) helps them to regain a part of their independence and an even bigger part of their lost heath. I want my grandparents to be mentioned by Willard Scott on their birthdays on The Today Show followed by a snippet like, "And he still eats bacon and eggs for breakfast every morning," or "And she still swims laps three times a week."
I have not had the opportunity to go up to visit my grandparents at their house in the past year. I saw them in September at my brother's wedding and again a few weeks later when my cousin and his wife lost their baby. One very happy occasion, one anything but happy. I hate that we don't live closer to them. I hate that it's so hard for us to be able to pack up and drive up to see them. I hate that life in general comes between us.
Every time I go a few months without seeing them, I slip back into imagining them as the people they were when Husband and I were first married. I think of them as the couple who walked 2 miles every day. I think of them as the Church Elder and his wife who visited the shut ins and helped out the old ladies of the congregation who's children were to far away or couldn't be bothered. I think of my grandfather in his basement wood shop piddling around with some project or another. I think of my grandmother baking a cobbler early in the morning so the house won't get too hot in the day time. I think of yards of fabric laid out on the dining table as she cuts out a new suit for herself or a romper for a grandbaby. I think of them as busy, able, strong, capable, and fiercely independent.
In my mind, they're the couple who's moved into the assisted living apartments because they want to downsize, not because they're in need of assistance. They're the vibrant couple who visits with the old ladies shuffling down the halls, helping them with their laundry carts and taking them to hair appointments. They rarely eat at the cafeteria, preferring rather to cook their own meals in their postage stamp sized kitchen. They're rarely home because they are in high social demand in their new community.
Unfortunately, that is just not the case. They are old. That's not something I ever wanted to say about them, but there is simply no other way to put it. Inkling and I always used to say, "They're getting old," but "getting" is no longer the case. They're frailer each time I see them. More stooped each time I see them. Less able to get around and do for themselves than they were a few months back. It breaks my heart a little more each time.
I've stated before, and I won't quit saying it while it's still true, I am so very blessed. I have four living grandparents. They are all lucid and (to an extent) able to care for themselves. QM has stated that I collected grandparents as a child. I adopted neighbors, friends from church, cousin's grandparents, pretty much anyone over the age of 50 who wasn't nailed down. They all became my grandparents. I've lost some of them. I've lost many of them, but I've never lost a grandparent I collected simply by being born.
I know that this fact will not last long. I would love for it to be the case until the FarmHands are grown, but I fear that's asking too much.
Once the "old" house is emptied and officially in the hands of the young couple who bought it, and they are good and settled in in their new place, I pray that this move (& the end of the resulting stress) helps them to regain a part of their independence and an even bigger part of their lost heath. I want my grandparents to be mentioned by Willard Scott on their birthdays on The Today Show followed by a snippet like, "And he still eats bacon and eggs for breakfast every morning," or "And she still swims laps three times a week."
June 23, 2010
Overwhelmed
I've been reading posts from friends on Facebook. There is so much pain in the world.
Two friends from college have a son with innumerable health issues who has to have surgery tomorrow because he can no longer swallow liquids. The mother of one of BabyGirl's friends fell this weekend, dislocating her elbow & breaking her leg in 3 places resulting in surgery. Bubba's best friend got bad news about his mother. She has terminal cancer & has only been given a few months left to live. A close friend of QM's lost her husband unexpectedly.
On top of that, Ang is dealing with some serious issues with the health of her children. And Inkling may be fighting infection again.
These are days when I'd like to crawl into bed & not face the world. None of these issues affect my day to day life, but they all break my heart.
These are days when I must cling to my Lord. He alone is worthy of my praise. He alone is capable of bringing those I love through their trials.
Two friends from college have a son with innumerable health issues who has to have surgery tomorrow because he can no longer swallow liquids. The mother of one of BabyGirl's friends fell this weekend, dislocating her elbow & breaking her leg in 3 places resulting in surgery. Bubba's best friend got bad news about his mother. She has terminal cancer & has only been given a few months left to live. A close friend of QM's lost her husband unexpectedly.
On top of that, Ang is dealing with some serious issues with the health of her children. And Inkling may be fighting infection again.
These are days when I'd like to crawl into bed & not face the world. None of these issues affect my day to day life, but they all break my heart.
These are days when I must cling to my Lord. He alone is worthy of my praise. He alone is capable of bringing those I love through their trials.
November 26, 2009
In Everything Give Thanks!
This Thanksgiving is going to be a bit rough for me, I fear. Normally, Husband, the FarmHands, and I would be loaded in the van on our way to Grandma M&M's to have a late lunch with my extended family. Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and Grandparents will sit & visit, play games, eat entirely too much food, stand around the deep fryer & laugh as Uncle Greenteeth keeps a close watch on the turkeys, watch a bit of football, and catch up on our lives.
Due to the hives still present on the FarmHands and the fact that my Grandparents are in delicate health, I decided not to risk exposing them to our creeping crud. Daddy is on his way north to their house. QM decided to stay home as not to risk her own health as she's recovering from pneumonia. Inkling & Henry David couldn't make it because of their trip to the States for Mary Genevieve's funeral. Other cousins won't make it down until tomorrow & Bubba & Beck won't make it there until later tonight.
I'm tempted to wallow in self pity today. We don't have a turkey. Chicken thighs will have to suffice. I have no jell-o to make Grandma M&M's cranberry salad with. There will be no pumpkin pie for Husband and B.B. There will be no blackberry cobbler for the rest of us. There will be no extended family to visit with. There will be no cousins for the FarmHands to play with.
But, I really have nothing to complain about. We have a freezer full of meat. I have a pantry full of food. We have closest full of clothes. We have bodies that are healthy in spite of viruses & infections that may set in. We have doctors & medicines to treat us when that happens. We have a home where we are safe. We have land for our children to run & play & grow on. We have vehicles that are dependable. I have a husband that works hard to provide for us & allow me to stay home to raise our children. We have things that are unnecessary, but make our lives a bit easier. We have family, that while not all are near, all are still dear. We know we are loved. We know we are cared for. And most importantly, we know that God sent His Son to die for us so that we can be united with Him when this life is over.
What is a lack of turkey & pie to all of this? Not much.
Due to the hives still present on the FarmHands and the fact that my Grandparents are in delicate health, I decided not to risk exposing them to our creeping crud. Daddy is on his way north to their house. QM decided to stay home as not to risk her own health as she's recovering from pneumonia. Inkling & Henry David couldn't make it because of their trip to the States for Mary Genevieve's funeral. Other cousins won't make it down until tomorrow & Bubba & Beck won't make it there until later tonight.
I'm tempted to wallow in self pity today. We don't have a turkey. Chicken thighs will have to suffice. I have no jell-o to make Grandma M&M's cranberry salad with. There will be no pumpkin pie for Husband and B.B. There will be no blackberry cobbler for the rest of us. There will be no extended family to visit with. There will be no cousins for the FarmHands to play with.
But, I really have nothing to complain about. We have a freezer full of meat. I have a pantry full of food. We have closest full of clothes. We have bodies that are healthy in spite of viruses & infections that may set in. We have doctors & medicines to treat us when that happens. We have a home where we are safe. We have land for our children to run & play & grow on. We have vehicles that are dependable. I have a husband that works hard to provide for us & allow me to stay home to raise our children. We have things that are unnecessary, but make our lives a bit easier. We have family, that while not all are near, all are still dear. We know we are loved. We know we are cared for. And most importantly, we know that God sent His Son to die for us so that we can be united with Him when this life is over.
What is a lack of turkey & pie to all of this? Not much.
October 13, 2009
Loving Mary Genevieve
As her Aunt Inkling so simply & beautifully put it, Mary Genevieve was born straight into the arms of Jesus yesterday morning at 7:30.
We know very little as of yet. We may never know much.
The Queen Mother sent an email Monday morning about their trip to the hospital to be with Inkling's baby brother & his wife Sunday night. "Last night Uncle M and I went to the hospital as soon as we heard. When we walked into their room we were amazed it was full of friends. They said friends started coming soon after they got there. They had come to pray with them and just be with them. There was a sweet peace there mingled with great sadness."
QM also told me D's labor was fast, short, and easy. They got to spend time with Mary after her birth. Someone took photographs for them.
Both sets of parents are now there with my cousin's family.
Inkling didn't have to be alone yesterday as Henry David was off work for Canadian Thanksgiving.
Today I'm trying to thank the Lord for small blessings like these.
I feel the need to call home frequently. I feel the need to call my siblings frequently. I feel the need to call Inkling frequently. There's nothing to say, but I need to feel connected.
We know very little as of yet. We may never know much.
The Queen Mother sent an email Monday morning about their trip to the hospital to be with Inkling's baby brother & his wife Sunday night. "Last night Uncle M and I went to the hospital as soon as we heard. When we walked into their room we were amazed it was full of friends. They said friends started coming soon after they got there. They had come to pray with them and just be with them. There was a sweet peace there mingled with great sadness."
QM also told me D's labor was fast, short, and easy. They got to spend time with Mary after her birth. Someone took photographs for them.
Both sets of parents are now there with my cousin's family.
Inkling didn't have to be alone yesterday as Henry David was off work for Canadian Thanksgiving.
Today I'm trying to thank the Lord for small blessings like these.
I feel the need to call home frequently. I feel the need to call my siblings frequently. I feel the need to call Inkling frequently. There's nothing to say, but I need to feel connected.
September 15, 2009
A little more perspective
Not long ago I wrote a post about perspective. That wasn't my intent when I wrote it, but that's how it turned out. Today things are even more skewed.
My cousin is having a really hard time. Every day is a struggle for her. Things that were overwhelming for me as a new mom- sleep deprivation, teething baby, total lack of down time, loneliness, too much work/not enough time- have been horrifically compounded for her due to severe birth trauma. Her son is 9 months old & there is no end in sight. Every day I think about her & every day I pray for healing, answers, peace, anything. If I'm hurting for her, how badly is she hurting? How badly is her husband hurting? How badly are her parents hurting?
The mother of a friend who was expecting her first child at the time told me, "J's the first woman to ever be pregnant." I think we're all like that to an extent. It's so hard to see past the end of our noses sometimes. The day I found out I was pregnant with BabyGirl I can remember sitting at work astonished that anyone's life could go on as it had the day before. I was gestating. Didn't that trump everything else going on in the world?
Earlier this week I was worried about all the things I have to get before Bubba & Beck's wedding: Dress socks for the boys. Dress pants for #1 Son. Dress shirts & ties for the boys. Hair clips for BabyGirl. Bows for Bitsy's hair. Snacks for the trip. Things to entertain the kids during the 5 hour trip to Tennessee. Minutes for my cell phone (yes, mine's the pre-paid kind, I don't use it enough for anything else).
Yesterday I was reading my cousin's blog (the same cousin who's suffering is boggling my mind) and she linked to Katie's blog. If reading the top 4 or 5 posts on Katie's blog don't give you perspective, nothing in this world will.
Today I'm struggling with perspective. How can I spend any time worrying about what my boys will wear to a wedding when Katie is fighting for the lives of 400 children in Uganda? How can I worry about snacks for a car trip when Katie is worrying about the starving baby she's taken in just long enough to feed her & send her back to the card board house she'll share with her mother & 5 siblings? How do we continue to function when the world around us is not as pretty as it seems from where we sit?
In John 12, Mary, the sister of Lazarus, anointed Jesus with expensive perfume. When a disciple objected saying, "Why wasn't this sold & the money given to the poor?" Jesus told him, "You will always have the poor among you..." This I accept.
But that doesn't make it any easier to keep life in prospective today.
What does make it much easier is to take my worries to the Lord minute by minute. I can't pack up our beds & ship them to Katie in Uganda, but I can pray that she & her daughters sleep well tonight. I can't send her my house payment this month instead of sending it to my mortgage company, but I can ask Jehova Jireh (The Lord who Provides) to send her all the money she needs to feed & care for the children she's been given guard over.
He's better at perspective than I am.
My cousin is having a really hard time. Every day is a struggle for her. Things that were overwhelming for me as a new mom- sleep deprivation, teething baby, total lack of down time, loneliness, too much work/not enough time- have been horrifically compounded for her due to severe birth trauma. Her son is 9 months old & there is no end in sight. Every day I think about her & every day I pray for healing, answers, peace, anything. If I'm hurting for her, how badly is she hurting? How badly is her husband hurting? How badly are her parents hurting?
The mother of a friend who was expecting her first child at the time told me, "J's the first woman to ever be pregnant." I think we're all like that to an extent. It's so hard to see past the end of our noses sometimes. The day I found out I was pregnant with BabyGirl I can remember sitting at work astonished that anyone's life could go on as it had the day before. I was gestating. Didn't that trump everything else going on in the world?
Earlier this week I was worried about all the things I have to get before Bubba & Beck's wedding: Dress socks for the boys. Dress pants for #1 Son. Dress shirts & ties for the boys. Hair clips for BabyGirl. Bows for Bitsy's hair. Snacks for the trip. Things to entertain the kids during the 5 hour trip to Tennessee. Minutes for my cell phone (yes, mine's the pre-paid kind, I don't use it enough for anything else).
Yesterday I was reading my cousin's blog (the same cousin who's suffering is boggling my mind) and she linked to Katie's blog. If reading the top 4 or 5 posts on Katie's blog don't give you perspective, nothing in this world will.
Today I'm struggling with perspective. How can I spend any time worrying about what my boys will wear to a wedding when Katie is fighting for the lives of 400 children in Uganda? How can I worry about snacks for a car trip when Katie is worrying about the starving baby she's taken in just long enough to feed her & send her back to the card board house she'll share with her mother & 5 siblings? How do we continue to function when the world around us is not as pretty as it seems from where we sit?
In John 12, Mary, the sister of Lazarus, anointed Jesus with expensive perfume. When a disciple objected saying, "Why wasn't this sold & the money given to the poor?" Jesus told him, "You will always have the poor among you..." This I accept.
But that doesn't make it any easier to keep life in prospective today.
What does make it much easier is to take my worries to the Lord minute by minute. I can't pack up our beds & ship them to Katie in Uganda, but I can pray that she & her daughters sleep well tonight. I can't send her my house payment this month instead of sending it to my mortgage company, but I can ask Jehova Jireh (The Lord who Provides) to send her all the money she needs to feed & care for the children she's been given guard over.
He's better at perspective than I am.
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