Update on Things with MIL, Pt. 5

I sincerely hope you are pacing yourself reading these.  I have never written this much in one 24 hour period before, but I have really been putting it off and yet wanting to do it, and so I am jumping on the opportunities I suddenly have and making myself do it and get it done. But you are under no such obligation!  So if you want to read all these, please spread them out and don't give yourself eye strain.  

(Also, I know some of you get what I write delivered to your inbox--does it also email you if I make updates?  Just so you know, I often go back and revise and clarify and proofread further after publishing (seeing it against the blog background sometimes helps me see it in new light. : ), so reading it on the blog and not in emails will also help you read anything I write with the most accuracy.  Just consider that an FYI. : )


OK, so now we are back to that fateful Monday morning.

After MIL and I had that brief clash, she and DH talked for a few more minutes, then DH went outside to talk to his dad, who was working on the truck, before he went to work.  I took a deep breath, and then went into the living room so MIL and I could just clear the air.  With a calm and casual manner, I said I wanted to clarify what I had been trying to say earlier, when I had started to interject in the conversation she was having with DH.  You see, she wants him to get things done around here, but is always telling him how he can't do the work, how he doesn't know how to do the work, how only FIL can do it, how he needs to figure out when FIL can come down and do the work for him.  So I was speaking very nicely, but was asking her to consider if she is aware of the messages she is sending DH and if they are really the messages she wants to be sending him.

MIL did not even let me finish.  She interrupted me and proceeded to go on and on and on and on and on (about 40 minutes) about all manner of things under the sun, all of them about me, most of them untrue, and all of them unkind or none of her business.  I tried to summarize here some of the things she said, just so you would see how random they were, and how purposefully over-the-top negative--but I tried to write and then had to delete it twice, because it just sounds like I am ragging on her like she was ragging on me.  It would just be slandering her to say specifics, because they are so not what nice Christian women say to anyone out loud.  So instead, I'll share the things I thought were relevant about the whole conversation:

--MIL was really in a tirade, but she was oddly impassionate.  I mean, we all understand when someone gets upset and says mean things on purpose to hurt someone, out of the fuel of their momentary anger.  But this was different--she was ranting and interrupting, but there was no yelling, no passion.  It was more of a loud discussion, but the things coming out were so pointed to slander and stab that the juxtaposition was bizarre.  This was a sign to me of some underlying weariness with it al, which could be good.

--Through all of this, I was calm and collected.  I did raise my voice at times to be heard, or to be emphatic, and there were times I sounded frustrated, but I never lost my cool or was disrespectful.  This is entirely because of God having prepared me.

--I didn't get insulted or upset.  Which, if you know me, is HUGE.  I seriously can't even remember most of the things she said about me, which is not normal.  (I tend to absorb harmful words and remember them later and dwell on them, which I am trying not to do now.)  So this is also the power of the Holy Spirit in that moment, that I didn't really absorb any of the malice, but was able to honestly just care about her and I working through it.  The goal was not proving her wrong, but reconciliation. Wow--just typing that gave me a shiver, because that is so clearly God and not me.

--I tried to help her let go of things that don't really matter, and asked her questions to try to get to the heart of the issues.  For example, when she complained that we never involve them in important decisions, like buying this house, I said You are absolutely right.  And we've talked about this before. You know why we didn't involve you in the decision.  She then interrupted to divert the conversation, but I brought her back to that important point: Because of how you get upset when we don't choose the way you would choose.  It is awkward to speak those painful truths aloud, but with all the untruth and unkindness flying about, it made it easier.  Throughout the whole conversation I kept trying to point to truth, trying to speak plainly about where we stand now, her and I in relationship.  Ok, so we choose differently than you would.  You have to let it go.  These are not the decisions you get to make.  These are our decisions. How do you and I move forward in relationship now, even if we disagree?

--But I am sure nothing that I said had any impact whatsoever. MIL was not in a place to hear anything logical or true, she just had all this stuff built up in her and wanted to get it out.  So while all the ugly was highly personal, it was also oddly impersonal--like it was not really about me, so much as about her own unhappiness.   She would make statements and accusations, I would ask her to defend them, or explain, or ask her where the middle ground was in that example, so she and I could come to some understanding, so this could all be helpful to our growth--but she would just jump to another topic and make different statements and accusations.  It was feint and dodge, feint and dodge, getting nowhere.

--The old hurts and harms went back all the way to before DH and I were married.  This was the most significant part of the whole event to me, because it showed just how long MIL has been collecting grievances.  : (  This is some serious spiritual bondage. 

--And the end result was that I was frustrated that we could not actually communicate at that moment, when there was clearly so much we needed to get out, work through, and resolve.   (I want to clarify that I did not raise any grievances against MIL--at no point did I bring up her flaws, or how she has hurt me, etc.  It was all listening to MIL and trying to speak honestly and point to truth--no defense of myself, no accusations in response, no rebuttals.  This was a time for her,  not for me.)

But finally, the kids woke up and came out, so MIL and I just mutually agreed there was really no way to end the discussion with resolution, and left it at that.  I made breakfast, we ate, FIL got the truck fixed and MIL rushed them away, to our mutual relief.

When the truck had gone, I was practically weak from the stress, but I was also strangely energized.  Because I realized God had finally answered my questions.  He was saying, This is what I care about.  Now is the time to confront. 

And the best part was that I was now completely free to do so!  Here I had been dreading the confrontation I knew would be coming, worrying how I would do it, not wanting to hurt feelings or stir up trouble.  But here MIL had just solved that dilemma by being the one to break the peace, so I did not have to.  And her openness made it not only acceptable, but necessary for me to speak with equal openness.  Amen! 

This being the children's first day back home after their long Christmas holiday, I had no intentions of doing school.  We were still on break, and it was perfect--they played, they read, and I pretty much sat at the computer all day writing MIL a letter. 


(More to come later!)

P.S. It is so awkward to write all this, and this is partly why I kept not writing it.  I don't want to sound like I am all proud of myself for handling this all so well--actually, I am AMAZED at how well God was able to use me, because I let him.  I am sure I'm not doing this perfectly, but it doesn't matter--I'm trying to listen and then obey.  And so that's why I am telling you all this--because this is a God story.  All of what happens with me & MIL is part of the God story, and I really want to share it with you.  So can you please not think it's about me and what a great DIL I am, or how I'm so much better than MIL or something.  She and I are really in the same boat, and are very similar in a lot of ways--and literally, there but for the Grace of God go I.  We both need to keep growing.  But I'm just thankful that God is helping me see how to grow, and is walking along side me so clearly at time like this.  I seriously feel like this is one of those times when it seemed like He spoke directly to my spirit.  It amazes me, and I feel so blessed.   

Update on Things with MIL, Pt. 4

Once again, I find I need to backtrack a little before I resume the story. Because I forgot to tell you one thing that is a really important part of the story.

Remember back in Dec, when MIL emailed about how we had ruined Christmas forever for her?  Remember I said I was not really surprised?  Well, I wasn't surprised for two reasons: first, because MIL has said this same thing to us several times before over the years, and the holidays are often a time that brings up those old  hurts.  But second, and most importantly, I had been feeling the nudging of the Holy Spirit for several months, telling me that I was getting too complacent again, too settled into "as peaceful as possible," too afraid of rocking the boat to be a positive influence in my relationship with MIL.  And it's true.  Things have been slowly but steadily going downhill in our relationship for about 6 months or so, and I know we have to turn it around.  It's time to let the Holy Spirit shake us up a little, get us back to be intentional in our choices with one another and actively working towards righteousness living together.

Ever since we had a pivotal moment in our relationship (and in my own growth as a person) about 10 years ago, she and I go through phases of peace and clashing, based upon our temperments and how much we are choosing to let go or confront.  The pivotal moment was a confrontation--the first time I ever attempted to stand up to my MIL, and while I did not succeed, it was really good and important because God spoke to me through it in huge ways.  Since then the pattern has been:

--I confront her about something that needs to change (often in face to face conversation, but for really big things I write letters)

--We have a period of separation which we all pretend is because of busy schedules, etc. But the time of not seeing one another is really good, because we can be mad if we want, but then have time to cool down and seek God.  We have time for ideas to simmer, and for us to realize our role and to then choose better for down the road.  I'd say this separation time usually lasts 1-3 months.

--She does not acknowledge the confrontation, but when we do see each other again, there is always--always--some fruit.  Whatever I had confronted her on will be improved, sometimes completely.

--We enjoy a period of peace and getting along.  We are both working hard to please the other, and to do our parts to keep peace and grow our relationship.

(Sometimes it may not look to the outside world that this is happening, because it might still include lots of harsh words, etc. but I can see the things MIL is doing and not doing to purposefully choose to move forward in our relationship as a family, and that is worth celebrating.)

--Then after some time (sometimes less time, sometimes more--usually around 6 months to 1 year) we both start to slip into old ways of relating--those old familiar patterns that are so hard to unlearn.  She might start to be a little less patient, might start letting the stinging tongue fly a little more, and in response I start to panic and freeze up inside, but outwardly smile and go along with things as best I can to avoid conflict.  I start to try to be as good as I can be, to look ahead for potential potholes, to hide the parts of me and our lives that are the most unbearable or irritating for MIL.  In other words, I fall under legalism and false living, and start catering to the sin.  And it never helps.

--MIL starts to get worse and worse, and so time spent with them gets less and less pleasant, and DH and I keep enabling and enabling, because we are so trained to avoid conflict, until finally there is something that I have no choice but to speak out about--or until the Holy Spirit convicts and emboldens me. 

--When so convicted, I can then summon up my courage, and confront her again.  And then the cycle starts over.

I am not trying to make it sound like I am personally responsible for all the good and growth that has happened in our relationship. No, but it is very true that the times that I have confronted her have led to growth for both of us.  I do not accept responsibility for that--that is only God's doing, so He gets any credit.  I can only take credit for asking God to show me what's going on, having my eyes open to the pattern, and sometimes being brave (or obedient) enough to stop sinning for a while in the relationship--when I put it that way, it doesn't sound like much to be puffed up about, does it? 

When I slip back into the easy thing of being a people pleaser, then it is too easy for MIL to slip back into being. . . whatever the issue is.  Or maybe another way to look at it: when I am asking and trusting and depending upon the Holy Spirit to love through me, and insist that He be our standard of communication, it somehow helps MIL be free to do the same.  It's like we are recalibrating together, based upon the Truest standard. 

But when we help MIL fall back into harmful patterns of relating--not allow (passive), but help (active)--then we are sinning too. 

OK, so a few months before Christmas, things were starting to hit the "old ways" part of the cycle, and I could feel the Holy Spirit nudging me.  Whispering, hey, wake up.  It's time. 

Time to get uncomfortable.  Time to grow some more.

Basically, I knew God would want me to confront MIL about something, and that it was going to be scary and painful but necessary and He was getting me ready.  So when the old "Christmas ruined because of stuff" came up, I started asking God, "Is this it?  Is this what I'm supposed to confront MIL about?"  But I did not hear confirmation back in the affirmative.  I still did not know. I prayed for those several weeks before Christmas, not knowing how the holidays together were going to go down, asking God to just make it very clear what to say, and when.  Because while things were starting to get worse, it was slow and subtle--and I really did not want the one to rock the boat, to seem to start a conflict.  How could I confront MIL about serious, sensitive issues between us when she was overall still being fairly nice?  It would seem unjust, and even insensitive. I was dreading it, whatever it was. 

Until God told me  This. Now.


(to be continued!)

Update on Things with MIL, Pt.3

Monday morning.  My poor MIL. 

I should pause for a moment and explain that while we were up in Chico for Christmas, MIL and FIL and MIL's mother were all recovering from some kind of bad cold, and were still coughing and clearly not feeling 100% normal, even though they all said were fine.   So now here they had just skipped church and driven down five hours to bring the kids back to us, because of the trouble with FIL's truck, which was not our fault but which necessitated the change in plans and which definitely inconvenienced them more than we would have liked.  Then they were now at our house, a place that MIL already finds stressful and unpleasant for so many reasons.  She still had a bad cough, and she was likely tired from taking care of extra people for almost 2 weeks, and with her back hurting the whole time.  And I am betting she had packed up ALL THE TOO MUCH STUFF for the kids (we had packed up all the gifts and brought them back with us, so the only things needed packing were the kids clothes and their backpacks, which had their water bottles, books for the car, etc.) without asking for help so her back was probably really hurting her by the time they got to our place--and then she and FIL spent the night sleeping out in the freezing cold on foam mattresses in the back of FIL's pickup truck. 

I am sharing all this detail because I really want to tell you this story but not be unfairly hard on MIL. I want to show how much she was working hard to actively show love to us, and how much she sacrificed for it.

Of course, this is all actually their choice, which they insist upon doing, even the sleeping in the truck.  They own a motorhome, but they don't like to drive it because it uses too much gas and is a pain to back into the driveway.  Also, they always want to bring firewood with them, which they can't do it they drive the motorhome. So they don't bring the motorhome when they come to stay with us.  They also own a big van that has seats that fold down to make beds and that has a little kitchenette and closet.  They used to drive that down, hauling a trailer full of firewood.  But then something happened to the trailer so they can't use it to haul wood anymore, and so now they choose to load up FIL's big pickup truck with wood and drive it down instead. We all help empty it immediately after they arrive and then they clean out the truck bed and lay down foam mattresses and turn that into their private space for the duration of the stay.  As you can see, they care so much about bringing us firewood that they gladly sacrifice their own energy and comfort for it.  They spend a lot of time and money and physical exertion buying and then loading and unloading that wood, and then they get to sleep in what must be a fairly uncomfortable bed for their troubles. And they are not young people, either, although clearly they are tough and practical, and I appreciate both of those qualities in them--but c'mon, that must not feel good when waking up in the morning.

They usually don't complain, and insist it is comfortable and quite warm when they have been in there a while, but once in a while MIL lets a comment slip that shows it is really not all that comfortable.  I imagine the worst parts are not having a bathroom and having to move around (and dress!) in a crouch.

And while it used to be that they could get really good wood for cheap, because of all the orchards around Chico, that's not the case anymore, and so there is really no point to them making all these sacrifices for us.  We live in a heavily wooded area, with local orchards too.  But this is just one way they want to show their love, and if they insist upon doing it,  how can we say no?  (I prefer to save my "no's" for things that really matter.) The only problems are A the guilt that I sometimes feel directed at us for all the sacrifice they are making for us because of the wood, which I just try not to allow myself to accept.  And B, the problem of MIL and FIL having likely crappy night's sleep when they are here, and likely feeling like we are not appreciating them, and maybe even on some level feeling cast out from our lives, as we are all warm and cozy in our house and they have to go sleep out in the cold and uncomfortable truck.

I also feel a little guilt because I am really glad they go sleep elsewhere, and I don't care if it's in a truck as long as it is not in my house.  I do not at all want them to be uncomfortable, but really, we all need even just a little space away, a little break from one another during visits, and that is really hard to come by in a house the size of ours!  They come into the house before 7 (which you realize means they come into the equivalent of our bedroom at 7) and then stay (in our bedroom) until often 11 at night.  The only reprieve we ever get from each other's company is when I invent errands to run alone (sometimes legitimate ; ), or when I'm working in the kitchen and don't need help and MIL goes to read with the kids or browse facebook (thank the Good Lord for facebook and touchpads).  You can appreciate how that much time together without break would get a little strained after a while, even for people who genuinely like and are comfortable around each other!  So while we have offered to give them our bed when they visit, or a blow up on the floor, I am very relieved that they always decline, saying their pickup "bed" is perfectly good.

Except we all know it is probably not really, esp. when you are getting older and are sick and cold and in pain!  So that Sunday night DH and I tried to encourage them to swap with us and take our bed while we stayed in the truck, but they were insistent.  They even declined the heater we tried to foist on them, since it was getting down to the upper 30's in the night.  So all this is to say that I think these things are all very relevant to how things went down Monday morning. 

Like the Titanic.

The kids were fast asleep (tired from all the late nights and excitement at Oma and Opa's, and happy to be back in their own cramped beds ; ) that morning when MIL came in the house around 7:30.  FIL was already working on repairing his truck, I was making breakfast, and DH was getting ready for work.  MIL started in on her son there in the living room, giving him a hard time for the beds not being done, and saying things like how our children's little hearts were absolutely crushed when they realized the beds were not done.  I stepped away from the kitchen to defend DH, and MIL immediately rebuked me for entering into a conversation that I was not a part of.  I just took a deep breath, bit my tongue, and resumed work in the kitchen.  But my heart was racing, and I had the weight of certainty on me--I knew we could not just leave it at that.  Once DH was gone, MIL and I  were going to have to find resolution to the conflict that had just reared its head between us.  And it was probably not going to be pretty.  But it was time, and it was necessary, and with God's grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, it might even end up Good.


(Again, to be continued.  I'm writing as fast as I can in the breaks I have--really nice ones today, unexpectedly!--and might be able to post more tonight)

Update on Things with MIL, Pt. 2

Continued from previous post. . .


See, way back at Thanksgiving we had made plans for the kids to stay at Oma and Opa's house for a week at Christmas.  (MIL had requested two weeks with the kids this past summer, instead of the traditional one week of VBS, but we had too much going on to do it then.)  But now here it was time to leave the kids for a week, and MIL was in pain.  I really did not want to leave them, but she insisted.  She would have been mad and hurt if we changed the plans, and I knew the kids would not really be hard to handle (they would just play and read all day, they can bathe themselves and the older ones can help the youngers, so in theory MIL could have taken perfectly good care of them while resting on the couch the whole week).  So, we went ahead and left them.  I don't see how we could have chosen differently, and yet I wish we could have, because I think it ended up being too hard on MIL.

So we had been up in Chico for about 3 days total for Christmas (we have learned that shorter is better) and then we left the kids about 10 days--until the first weekend of the new year.  That time without kids we spent doing so much of the bed planning and purchasing, etc. I detailed in the last post, and DH also did end of the year insurance stuff  and paperwork (and squeezing in eye appointments).  Oh, and we also had the septic emptied, which takes a whole day of back-breaking digging for DH to uncover and then re-cover the ancient thing.  So the time went quickly, and was for the most part a nice break, and a productive one.

I fear it was not a nice break for my MIL though.  I think the stress of taking care of so many people first over the Christmas part (her mother, all of us) and then the week after (even though our kids are really self-sufficient, and are of an age to be really helpful, MIL was likely doing more fancy cooking and trying to take them places and show them a good time then she should have been doing, and not letting them help her either) and the pain, combined with understandable post-holiday let-down was just too much for her.  They brought the kids down to us that first Sunday in January (we were supposed to meet them halfway, but had swapped cars with them so they could have our mini-van with the car seats, but then FIL's truck would not start, so they had to drive all the way down so FIL could replace a part, which he did Monday morning).  And as soon as MIL stepped out of the car she started verbally attacking me. And so of course immediately I was riled and in fight or flight mode.

See, as MIL informed me so clearly, I packed too much.  I packed WAY too much clothing, way more than anyone ever would ever need to pack.  I packed WAY TOO MUCH clothing for the children, WAY MORE than they needed, and it was such a pain to keep track of and pack and they never even wore it, MIL just kept washing the same outfits every night so they DIDN"T EVEN NEED ALL THE CLOTHES I had packed, which were WAY TOO MUCH. I should NEVER pack so much clothing.  She keeps telling me not to pack so much and telling me and I still ALWAYS pack TOO MUCH. 

For an almost 2 week visit, I had packed each child 4 outfits (top + pants + socks), plus one church outfit, 5 undies, and one pair of pajamas. This seems very reasonable to me--even on the conservative side.

Then before we left Chico I had washed the clothes, then folded and organized them on shelves in the guest room, one shelf to a child, so each child had a clearly designated space for clothing, and all the pieces of outfits together so there would be no fuss.  There was no need for any laundry to be done, if the kids wore each outfit twice, esp. considering they received some clothes from Oma for Christmas. So the woman with the hurt back would have no need to be doing laundry for my kids, and really would not even need to help the kids with their clothes at all.

Of course it seems like more when it is packed up, because each child also had a winter coat, a hoodie, a vest, and hat & gloves.  Necessary but bulky things.

But perhaps it seemed like TOO MUCH because of the additional clothes MIL went out and BOUGHT the kids that week, AND the clothes she gave them for Christmas, AND the clothes that her sister handed down to her, which she then decided to give Sunny and Merry.  Including THREE hoodies.  You realize how much space three extra adult hoodies take up in a bag?

And I am also guessing that it seemed like TOO MUCH because of all the laundry she did that she didn't have to do, and clearly should not have done, because of her back.  Also, I have a feeling it seemed like TOO MUCH because she packed up everything herself and did not ask for help, and was in pain the whole time, which would make anyone crabby.

In other words, the whole tirade I was greeted with was so unfair and illogical, and those happen to be hot buttons of mine--being blamed for things for which I am not responsible, and using against me things that it feels like everybody else in the world would agree are good and logical things.

So I just chose to greet them and the children quickly, and then carry things into the house and stay there until after the tirade, which MIL then turned on DH because of the size of the bags we had left at their house for the return packing, which were WAY TOO BIG and just all-around wrong and did I mention WAY TOO BIG.  I could hear it going on through the windows, but I was removed enough that I could take some deep breaths and pray to the Good Lord to help me stay calm and to show me how to love in this situation. 

And so I was able to be pretend all was well, and MIL must have gotten it out of her system (and perhaps even realized how she had been going on and was able to take a few deep breaths herself and choose better) because we had a nice evening overall.  There was one moment after the kids were in bed when the conversation of us four adults there in the living room suddenly turned sour, and got a little tense, but we were able to recover and end the night well.

But the next morning. . . .  Sigh. . . .


(I know, I'm making this all dramatic, but these really are the best breaking places in the story!  Part 3 to come hopefully by tomorrow--because this is all for a reason, something happening in my life right now that is best understood with all the background story.)

Update on things with MIL--Pt 1

I started this post yesterday afternoon. . .


This is one of the posts that I have been wanting to write for a while, but just could not get up the energy for.

It is also what was going one month ago when I wrote about a day of girlfriend time and an overload of tea and chocolate--and when I'm done explaining, I think you will see why I over-indugled that day/week. ; )

But it has also been hanging over me a little, and it's time to write. Let's see what I can do in the hour of quiet I'm enforcing here at home this afternoon!

So, it all started several weeks before Christmas. (This is your cue to grab a mug of your favorite warm beverage and something to munch on--sustenance for the journey.)  MIL sent me an email saying she was already feeling upset about Christmas, and reminding me of all the ways we have hurt and rejected her in the past, and "I will never get over that and it has forever ruined Christmas shopping for me."  (that's a direct quote) 

Now I am going to gloss over this whole issue of gift-giving as a huge language of unlove and manipulation and all kinds of unhealthy stuff, because it is really a discussion for another post.  (A post I do hope to make sometime, because I need to think it all through, and writing about it helps me--as do your responses!)  But let's just say I was not surprised, either by her feeling those things or by telling them to me at the most awkward time possible (when we are in the middle of talking gifts).  And actually, I thought it was great that she took the time to write out her feelings, and communicate them to me, and I told her that in my email response.  I ended by trying to be positive and refocus us both on better things:

"Last Christmas seemed like the best Christmas we have ever had together as a family. I don't remember specifically what we did differently, but I do remember reading the Christmas story together, and somehow having more of an emphasis on celebrating the birth of Jesus, and more attention on us all having fun together than all the fun stuff we gave and received.  Whatever we did right last year, let's do again this year!" 

And to that she replied:

"You mentioned you had a good time last year.... remember we left and headed to Colorado."

Which literally had me laughing out loud.  Oh, MIL, trying to turn any good thing I say around to make it bad. : )

 

So I said back,

"The good time I was remembering from last year was with you and [Opa], so must have been before you went to CO.  I have photo evidence. ; )

Clearly there is a lot we could say about this issue between us, and which we should say, if it will promote complete healing in our relationship. I am wondering if we should defer the rest of the conversation until after the holidays; talking about it when it is not gift-giving/receiving time will most likely help keep us from further bruising." 

And then finished with some other business and niceties. She did not respond to that last email, but when we went up to their house for Christmas, she was happy and gracious and seemed to have her heart in a great place and we had a lovely time.  A really nice Christmas, not without its awkward or painful moments, but with way more good things happening than otherwise.  In other words, MIL did an amazing job of letting go of the hurt and choosing to enjoy Christmas, and to be kind and loving. I would even say she was being forgiving, except I know she hasn't actually forgiven us, and this all will resurface again--but she was able to act forgiving while we were together, and that in itself is a beautiful, healthy thing.

But MIL had also hurt her back, and was in pain the entire time--she never complained, but it was clear she was hurting.  Even while in pain she did all the usual things to take care of us, and barely let me help with things.  Fortunately, MIL's sister was out of town, so MIL was the night-time caregiver for her mother, which meant she had to stop doing things at her own house and head down to her mother's house every night at 9 pm.  I am so glad for that, because I think that allowed her to have more relaxing time in the evenings than she would have had otherwise (she often bustles around her own kitchen until midnight or later when we are there), and hopefully she got more sleep.  And with MIL gone earlier, I could get to sleep earlier too, which I think was also very helpful for keeping things going well during the day!  Finally, it was really helpful to not have opportunities for late-night conversations; those can quickly veer into dangerous territory--we all understand how it is easier to let guards on our tongue slip after a long day, or to be irritable when we have been around people all day, etc.

The problem came when it was time to leave. . . .


To be continued. . . Not to sound all dramatic, but that's all I could write last night during quiet time. : ) 

The Annual Week Without Children

from someone called "Laff Away" on facebook

Strike "weekend's" and rewrite that as "week's" and now you know what I have really been up to. And actually, this year it's a week and a half!  FIL came down week before last to help DH on a project--putting a new roof on the woodshed, and turning it into a deck in the process--and he was ready to head back to Chico on Weds last week.  Well, this week is Vacation Bible School at Oma and Opa's church there in Chico, so we were already planning on taking the kids up this past weekend.  MIL suggested we just send the kids up with Opa a few days early.  Well, why not?  So the annual WWC began last Thursday morning--whoo-hoo! 

Yes, I have projects and things I have been planning to do this week--but the bonus days at the end of last week I decided to make my own personal "mental health" days.  The goal was just to do whatever would make me feel good.

--I started a long overdue cleaning job, on the new baskets I bought for the shower room that have to be meticulously brushed clean because they are starting to mold now that we're not making fires every morning. (Welcome to my world!)  But I am just doing a few baskets at a time, stopping whenever I feel like it and giving myself permission to walk away.  I've got all week. 

--I have exercised almost every day (that's a big accomplishment for me!) by dancing around the house, usually with a can of beans in each hand.  If you don't think that's exercise, think Flashdance.  That's what I've been channeling. Well, that and a little nod to the Sharks and Jets.  Every time I have ended up exhausted and sweaty--but smiling.

--I am eating so little, and feeling so much freedom in that.  I wrote last year about this revelation--that I feel like I normally spend so much of my waking thought on food, and am a little bit of a slave to my wonky blood sugar, yet find my urges for healthy foods like raw fruits and veggies thwarted by my allergies. Ptttthhhhhhbbbbb.  I am still trying to figure out what my body really needs, and then manage to make meals that are good for my body and that are fairly easy to make.  It has not been easy, and I am LOVING having days on end where I don't really need to eat--I am hungry, and that's ok.  I'm not going to be failing as a mom because of it.  I have nothing time-sensitive to accomplish, so I don't need a lot of energy.  I am hungry and it's OK.  It really is spiritually liberating for me.

--Then again, most of what I ate the end of last week was complete junk!  Bwah-ha-ha-ha!  I did errands on Thursday, and found myself driving past an excellent bakery (called The Buttery--if that tells you anything) that I normally never go by, and so I stopped in. And bought two decadent cupcakes--which served as "lunch" for the next two days, so yummy with my tea. ; ) 

--The cupcakes and tea also went really well with the Netflix movies I streamed in the middle of the day, just because I could.  And then Friday night DH and I watched the most recent Les Miserables on DVD--I know a lot of people say negative things about it, but it is still powerful and I think the casting was excellent (and have my official film theorist reasons why, which of course DH got to hear all about last night. ; ).  I also really enjoy the extra dimension lent to the final chorus of "Do You Hear The People Sing" in the movie--the visuals that suggests the line "beyond the barricades is there a world you long to see" is not only politically motivated, but spiritually.  That death itself is a barricade, and heaven is where we will one day find true, complete freedom from all that oppresses us. 

--Yes, with a quiet house and few distractions, I actually have been getting some good thinking in!  I've been working on designing different options/looks/themes for the bunks I really hope we will build this summer for the kids--and even if we don't use any of the designs, I had so much fun getting all creative!  I've been really thinking outside the box, and have been mentally playing with everything from wooden porch posts and rails to copper pipe to antique corbels to wrought iron lamp posts--yes, for structural elements for bunk beds!  Oh, the pin-worthy pictures in my head! ; )

--Oh, the luxury of a "vacation" of not cooking this past week, and eating our favorite indulgences!  We bought a Papa Murphy's gourmet vegetarian pizza, MoBo Sushi vegetarian rolls (ooooooh, I dream of these), and our favorite local Aptos Street BBQ--each of these fed DH and I for two meals.  Chipotle veggie fajitia burritos (if you ask for both kinds of beans and two kinds of salsa and all the extras, those babies are stuffed as big as they can be) were an even better deal--one burrito fed me for three meals!).  Frankly, food expense-wise, this is as cheap of a vacation as we could get. : )  And now I'm getting hungry. . . what do we want to eat for our main meal today?  Ah, this is such a treat.

--I got my hair cut.  And I splurged on a real salon, because I am tired of feeling old, and I wanted to see what a real stylist would do.  Here's the before, at the salon:

My hair had suffered a LOT of damage from my years of pulling it back into sloppy buns with elastic bands.  My advice to you--don't do it.  My poor hair really needed to be loped off to where it was healthy.  So here's the after, at home:

 

Not bad, considering this was taken the next day, after I slept on it.  (I put back on the same blouse so it would be as accurate "before and after" as possible. The "after" pic taken at the salon did not turn out.)  The third day of the haircut, after I washed it and then learned how much magic the stylist did with her conditioner and brush and blowdryer, it didn't look nearly as good.  So for church on Sunday I actually dug out the old fat curling iron I had back in my college years that's been living in a bin under the house to smooth things out nicely. . .  Not sure I will be doing that on a regular basis, so maybe I will just settle for being content with my hair no longer looking so stringy and tired as in photo #1, and who cares if it's pretty.

So that's a fairly good overview of the first half of our WWC. The second half will not be nearly as frivolous--yes, I do have some projects I did want to accomplish before the end of the week.  But it will still be fun, and I'm hoping to make the most of it!

May you all be having good weeks, whatever you are doing!

What We've Been Up To--the Photo Catch-Up Extravaganza

I have been intermittent about blogging for the past few months.  Didn't mean to be--but life has been hard!

And I mean hard in that totally pampered stay-at-home-mom who is ridiculously blessed with a stable husband and four healthy kids kind of way. 

But still, things have been hard for me.  I'll try to blog about it more, as I think this hard season is coming to an end and hopefully I'll have the luxury of more time (and hopefully brain function) for writing.  To sum up these months, I thought I'd make a little series--hopefully more easily digestible bits than what I usually throw at you when I am in "catching up" mode.  With lots of photos, 'cause a picture's worth a thousand words, right?

So here's the first one, which I do think speaks volumes about my life recently:

I don't know how well you can read it even if you click on the image to embiggen.  But you'll get the idea.  This simple piece of notebook paper was my careful plan for our school time these past two and a half months.  We had so many big, important deadlines that I had to write those down and then start working backwards from each, figuring out how much time we should dedicate to each project.  And then, while we were in the midst of it all, this notebook page was my exterior brain.  I have been so ridiculously thick-brained this Spring--from allergies and lingering (and reoccurring!) illness, and who knows probably the onset of old age just for fun--and so it has truly been hard to keep track of what who should be doing when.  So I frequently, if not daily, found myself grabbing this notebook to see what the heck we were supposed to be doing on any given day, or so I could reassure myself we were on task and not forgetting something important.

Just a few of the big deadlines I had to plan months in advance for, and which took a lot of my time to execute:
--STAR test preparation (something I care about only because DH uses it as a scoring tool to measure the success of our homeschooling)
--An area-wide homeschool kids art show I curated at the Abbey Coffee Lounge
--Book projects for the annual county Author's Fair


And there are so many things not on the schedule above, too, but which took lots of time and energy:
--A child-led theatre production of Peter Pan
--martial arts testing and demonstrations
--the usual weekly classes


And then there were things that were not school related, and which were important and good too, but which also took time:
--Being asked to serve on our church's Jr. High Parent's Board, which necessitated meetings
--Selling outgrown kids' clothes on eBay, to start clearing out the bins under the house


 But now we are over all the deadlines--in that second to last row in the chart up there, about to get into the pale yellow zone that represents "Finishing."  That is, seeing if we can relaxedly wrap up the school units we have been working on all year--mainly California History, the Solar System/Space Exploration, and the Civil War/Westward Expansion. 

[And typing that just now, I realized what a connection there is between the last two--the drive to seek new lands and overcome obstacles is somehow written into the American psyche, and with the West conquered, we turned our attention to where new lands (or, planetary bodies, as the case may be) are waiting to be discovered (and exploited).  And look what an important role California plays in those two as well!  I love seeing connections between seemingly unrelated things.]

ANYWAY, I'm pretty tired at this point.  Tired of planning, tired of keeping children on track, tired of putting a lot of effort into things for other people and tired of feeling like I'm never enough for people.  I'm kinda spirit weary, and I'm ready for a break.

So, for the next week--easy school!  Math. Music. Finish a collaborative art project.  Finish some documentaries and movies that wrap up our school units.  That's.  It.  Then, we will take a week off.  Maybe two.  But then we will dive right back into summer school--because I have found that we do so much better a family when we school year round and take the breaks when we need them and not break too long at any one time.  The operative term there being "when we need them"--so we shall see how long this first "Summer break" lasts.

I get the feeling lots of other people out there are also in busy/stressful/full seasons!  How about you? What's this season  been like for you?

Pt. 2 in the series tomorrow! : )
 

Disneyland--the memories are about family, Pt 1

I did not grow up seeing my dad's side of the family much, since they lived in California and Minnesota and we were in Illinois, but the families made a point of gathering every few years, usually someplace central, like Colorado.  (Which is also why I was thrilled when DH and I got to live in Colorado as newlyweds--like living in nostalgialand, so close to Crested Butte and Mesa Verde and all the places that were dear to me from childhood.)   The few times we did gather all the way out in California, we of course had to visit Disneyland.

And when DH were married and living in Colorado, we were close enough to California for a roadtrip to the big family reunion to celebrate my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary, B.C. (that's "before children," in my family lingo).  (Family, that first reunion was back when we still used a film camera, so I don't have any digital pics!  If any of you have some, would you be willing to email them to me? Thanks!) We did Disneyland all together--ALL the aunts and uncles and cousins and even my grandparents.  But it was also the first time DH and I visited Disneyland as adults, and as a couple, enjoying sharing memories and appreciating the fun from a different vantage than childhood.

Our next trip to Southern California was a few years later, for my cousin's wedding, when we had our first baby. 

Summer 2001

 

My big sister Rebecca, with her two daughters Sarah and Emily and my little Sunny, there in Grandma Betha and Grandpa Chuck's living room, Summer 2001.  I don't think we visited Disneyland--there was just too much other family fun to do!

 

My grandparents stayed young at heart, still getting down on the floor to play with their great-grandchildren. 

Then when DH's job moved us from Colorado to California, we had even more opportunity to drive down and visit family, and get to know them more than I had as a kid.  It's still a 6-8 hour drive to LA from where we live on Monterey Bay, but we love road-trips, so it's totally doable several times a year.

Fall 2003

November 2003, when Grandma Betha and Grandpa Chuck first met Merry.

We used to go when my parents were visiting, and stay in their camper parked out front of my grandparents' house--or if we were going down at a time of year when my parents were back home in Illinois, we would stay in my grandparents' guest room.  They had a wonderful, amazing gift of hospitality, and ALWAYS made you feel like they wanted nothing more in the whole world than for you to come and stay, and for as long as you wanted.  It was so fun visiting them.

My grandparents also happened to live five minutes from Disneyland.  Ok, 10 with traffic, but close enough to watch the impressive weekend fireworks from their driveway.  Both DH and I have a fondness for Disney, although I would say more the vision and values of historical Disney; we don't at ALL buy into the merchandising, or the whole princess phenomenon, and we have chosen not to show some of the movies to our kids (but that's for another post).  But Disneyland we love, and so while my grandparents were still alive and we were driving down to see them several times a year, we bought annual passes. 

First Disney trip with our kids.

The thing about the passes--once you have gone about 5 days they have paid for themselves, and so if we have free lodging and are frugal with food, the main expenditure for a Disney trip is the gas to drive there and back.  (We never buy any souveniers in the parks--our memories or little freebies we get here and there are plenty for us simply pleasured, space-challenged folk.)  It was so fun to drive down, get to see family, and then be so close to the park that, thanks to the annual passes, we could just drive over to Disney for a few hours, until toddlers were needing lunch and naps, and then drive back to Grandma and Grandpa's for rest. 

Aunt Joyce with Merry.

And then often my Aunt Joyce, who at that time was living with her parents to help care for them, would offer to babysit the kids in the late afternoon/evening and put them to bed so that DH and I could go out and have some fun just the two of us.  Sometimes Aunt Joyce would even offer to drive us to the park and back, so we did not have to pay for parking.  That's how much my family spoiled us when we would visit.  (Nowadays DH gets one "deluxe" pass when we buy the annual passes, so we get free parking, as well as a larger discount on purchases in the park.)  Having the passes allowed us to be so flexible, so we didn't feel like we had to be there when a toddler was all done, which is really the way to do it, if you can.

Because when you are three, it is hard to enjoy the waits for the Dumbo ride.  Esp. when you missed your nap.  

And since we were driving down several times a year to see my grandparents as much as possible, it made sense to drop in on Disney while we were there.

Summer 2004

Disneyland, during the last big family reunion, Summer '04.
 

My dad playing with Sunny and Merry in Grandma and Grandpa's front yard, in front of my parents' camper.

Merry and Papa sitting around my Grandma Betha's kitchen table.

 

 Merry and my mother playing in the living room.  I have no pictures of Grandma Betha from this trip, because this was the week she lay dying, yet still wanting to take care of her family and make sure we all knew how much she loved us.

My Grandma died, just a few days after we had our last big family reunion (God's timing--was such a blessing for everyone to get to see her and say goodbye). And then my Grandpa got so that he could not live on his own, and so he moved in with my Aunt Sharyn and Uncle Don. And so when we came down to visit to see Grandpa, my aunt and uncle continued the legacy of hospitality and opened their home to us. They had three children who were grown and on their own, so had bedrooms to share, but even then, it was their strong sense of family and their casual and gracious generosity that made us feel so welcome, what with our two little kids and one baby at the time.

Fall 2004

Oct. '04

Oct. '04.  I love looking back at the pics I have of the kids playing with this ball fountain over the years--you can really see the progression of our family.

January 2005

This is the only photo I have from our trip down to So. Ca. that January.  Clearly our purpose was to see Great-grandpa Chuck, and the fun at Disneyland was bonus.

Fall 2005

Our first visit to Southern CA with baby Happy to visit Grandpa, there at Aunt Sharyn and Uncle Don's house, Oct. '05.  Let me tell you, big helium balloons make the best baby toys! 

 

Tie one to a hand, or foot, or both at the same time, and your baby will be delightedly engaged for a good 15 minutes, which is precious time to a mother of three little ones. I am sure it is good for hand-eye coordination too. 

There was a stage in our family Disneyland life when one of those Disneyland stroller rentals was worth its weight in gold.

 

Summer 2006

This visit down to Aunt Sharyn and Uncle Don's house was the last time we saw Grandpa Chuck.  We did not visit Disneyland this trip, just spending time with my parents, who were visiting Southern CA, and my extended family.

I'm so thankful my children knew their great-grandparents, even a little.

After Grandpa died, we did not go back for several years.  It was not that we didn't want to see our family, but there were no longer Reasons to go--no more weddings, no more great-grandparents, and even my parents were not traveling down there as often now that Dad's parents were gone.  And so several years passed.

Fall 2011

But then, last Sept. my cousin Stacia got married, and DH and I drove the kids down earlier in the week so we could be helpful in the preparations.  We got to stay with Aunt Sharyn and Uncle Don, and be of some help.  We also got to have a couple of days to take the kids to Disneyland once again. (Smiley's first time, Happy's first time being big enough to actually ride anything but "It's a Small World".)

Spring 2012

And that's why we got Disney passes this past year, and why we made another trip this past Feb, to make the most of the passes.   It has been really fun, since the kids are so much older than the last time we had passes, and the girls can actually ride all the rides, and even Smiley is big enough to really engage with the whole experience.  And I love my Southern California family--they are such wonderful people, and we always enjoy being with them.  And I am so thankful that they are so big-hearted, to invite us to stay with them when we come.  We try to be low-maintenance guests, but still, we are a family of six with little kids, and so we appreciate very much how welcome they make us feel.

Fall 2012

We did not stay with Aunt Sharyn and Uncle Don this time, but they so sweetly treated us to lunch at the Rainforest Cafe,  Downtown Disney.

I thought after our summer trip to Illinois this year that we would not have the time or extra $ to make one last trip to Disneyland, but about a month ago DH surprised me by suggesting it.  And since we had invited DH's parents to join us at Disneyland back in Feb, but they couldn't make the trip then (they were spending time out in Colorado helping Auntie N with little Sweetness while Uncle S was back in India on business), and since MIL had *just* been offered a sweet early retirement deal and would be officially retired the Friday before we were planning this last trip, it seemed only right to invite them to come with us. . . .

Pt 2 yet to come!

1st Day of Lent--let the withdrawl and worship commence

This is the very first year I have actually looked ahead on the calendar and tried to think ahead for my participation in Lent.  The first few years I would plan on doing something, but never quite thought through that approximately 40 days before Easter means Lent would begin around the end of February.  So every time, I figured out it was Lent sometime about a week (or more!) into it, and would jump in feeling more than a little pathetic for being so late. 

Last year I found myself looking forward to Lent, but even then, I forgot to actually write down Ash Wednesday on the calendar, so it was the first day of Lent before I realized it!  But hey, there's spiritual significance even in procrastination and negligence. ; )  Here's what I wrote then:*

I love Lent. I have actually been anticipating Lent this year, knowing I sure needed a really Good reason to shake some bad habits that have been creeping upon me this past year, but not quite able to make myself start sooner. In fact, I was not even able to make myself start on time. Yesterday, Ash Wednesday, was actually the first day of Lent, but I used it to pray about what I was really supposed to be giving up ('cause as a Christian, if Lent is not about renewing the dialogue of faith between me and God, then something is wrong). . . and to gorge on chocolate, you know, in preparation for giving it up for the next 40 days. Eh, my imperfections and His grace are what this is all about, so it's ok. ; )

No, really, Lent is a human tradition, not some holy sacrament, and I actually enjoyed starting the official first day indulging in something I was "supposed" to be abstaining from as a way of reminding myself that giving these things up are my choice and the more I enjoy them, the more of a gift they are when I give them over to God. And I liked starting out "fallen," so there was no urge for self-righteousness, or the legalistic (and self-elevating) pride in deed that would make Lent about me and not about God. I mean, it is about me, and what God wants to do in me, and me stripping down and saying, "Take whatever pleases you, Lord, and just fill me with You." But the reason for the giving, the beauty in it, the trust and love and freedom through it--those are all from God, and will ultimately have nothing to do with what I do or do not do for the next 40 days.

That's pretty much where I am again.  I have really been looking forward to Lent this year, and even had it on the calendar, so I'm here and ready!

On the altar this year:

--All sweets, yes, including my beloved dark chocolate. 

--Just like last year, I am going to be avoiding carbohydrates as much as I can.  So, virtually no bread or pasta or white rice for me for the next 46 days!  I'll let myself have a little brown rice and quinoa sometimes, but mainly will rely upon veggies for my starches (like potatoes, sweet potatoes).  In fact, most of my diet will be cooked veggies, in various yummy forms.  Veggies and lot of dairy.  And the occassional foray into meat.  

From my gluten-free/ultra-low-carb Lenten experiment last year, I know it is really, really hard to go totally wheat free when I am also mostly vegetarian and--the hardest of all--when I am allergic to most raw fruits, veggies and nuts.  So, when you get those allergies into play, and realize I can't just eat an apple or carrot when I am hungry like most of you can, you understand why I am not being militant about this low-carb thing.  I am still a busy homeschool mommy, and I need some foods I can eat without a lot of preparation!  So one Lenten indulgence will be whole-grain rye crackers.  Those are fairly good for you, and are also fairly low on the glycemic index, so they will be fine for my blood sugar.  Another will be organic white cheddar popcorn--another semi-healthy quick and yummy snack that has some protein to offset the carbs. 

The goal here is to give something up that I have grown to depend upon--in this case, too many carbs--that I know are not good for me, but which I don't feel like going without.  So, giving it up as a gift to God at Lent gives me a really good reason to be purposeful and strict with myself.  Choosing to give up things that are bad for my body has spiritual significance, as our bodies are God's temple.  And since I WILL be going through withdrawl, and will want those carbs (and those easy meals!) and those sugars (farewell, peanut M&M's for breakfast) very much, I will be CONSTANTLY reminded of all manner of spiritual things, like the bounty of foods that surround me here in my home, in my groccery store, in our nation--an overflow of blessing.  Like how I am dependent upon whatever I tell myself I need--so, what do I really need?  (And what am I unconsciously elevating in status above God?)  Like how I desire to be at peace no matter what, and want to be able to say, with the Apostle Paul, "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want" (Phillipians 4:12). 

In the past, I have given up way more things, but this year I know this will be about all I can handle (and the real things I sense are altar-worthy).  But if there is more (i.e. if I get nudges in my spirit that I am just transferring my food compulsions to a different outlet), I will let it go too, willingly.  Gladly.  I am ready for my seasonal renewal! 

Anyone else celebrating Lent this year?  Let me know what you are doing in the comments!



*Those of you new to my blog, I did not grow up practicing Lent, but LOVE it--not just for the awesome right-with-God things that come out of it, but for everything it does for me. I give up good and major stuff, and so when Lent comes around, it is a game changer. In such a good way. If you want to know about why I started doing it, or what I have done in the past few years, please feel free to visit the "Labels" list on the lower right-hand sidebar, and click on "Lent."

totally great day--and not pregnant to boot

The past, oh, four days did not go at all like I had planned.  Coming home from the Day of Love I had what felt like a migraine going on, and pretty much had to lay down immediately.  I seriously felt battered all over my body, and could not figure it out--I mean, sure I had been working for 7 hours straight, but it was being a gopher and folding clothes and chatting with women, not exactly digging ditches, you know?  I even woke up Sunday morning all achy still, and headachy.  But then (get ready for TMI) I realized I was starting my period.  That explained everything--the headaches, the fatigue.  And you see, I was on the pill for the past 2 years, and am just now coming off.  (It was never the ideal choice, but one that did its job while we have tried to figure out what our long-term solution will be, the discussion of which I will save for another post.)  But for this week it meant I was getting the first real period I've had for almost a year.  I was on the mini-pill while I was still nursing Smiley, so when I weaned him last August I got my period back with a vengeance, and had a couple of real strong months, which got me waxing poetic and all, until I went on the regular pill and stopped having them.  This means this was only my third or fourth period since before I conceived Smiley.  So I'm still unused to them--and this time it seemed to take forever to come, so I was  starting to be genuinely concerned that God had blessed us yet again, despite other precautions (yet again).  I even started to get stressed about it (confession--part of the nervous energy I wrote about two weeks ago) from just wanting to KNOW for heaven's sake, so I went and got pregnancy tests.  I went through two tests that week I was so stressed, getting negative readings, but not quite trusting them, but finally getting peace from God.  So now, here comes the real confirmation--not pregnant!  And along with it comes the reminder that we really do think we are done having kids, and really do need to prayerfully consider what we think God wants us to do long-term.

So, anyway, Sunday I stayed home from church since I was feeling so poorly so early in the day, and was glad I did, since the backache and cramps hit around noon.  Not as bad as in my youth, but I was so glad I could sit around in my pj's all morning with warm drinks.  The headache was coming back with a vengenance too, and seemed to get worse when I had some dark chocolate raisins with my tea (noooooooooo!).  Ugh--I know chocolate is not good for migraines, but that's only for other people, not me, you know, and it's not like I even know these dehabilitating headaches are actually migraines, you know, they could just be really, really bad normal headaches that aren't affected by chocolate at all, you know.  Sigh.  Well, I guess I'll just have to eat more dark chocolate to figure it out.  All scientific-like, you know.

So, ANYWAY, I basically did not get anything done here at home all weekend, and then Monday a friend from long ago (Susan, it was Treencee!) came to visit for a few hours, and then I could not believe it but after lunch I got all sucked into a really unimportant new thing I am doing on the computer (the discussion of which I will also save for another post) and then I left to go to a Soul Kitchen meeting at 6, so that was pretty much my day, completely unproductive around the house for no good reason.  Ok, I was still bleeding heavily, and was a little crampy and backachy and headachy, but I could have been productive.  I think I was just rebelling against my own better sense. 

But it meant I woke up this morning still tired, still a little achy and headachy, and feeling glum for so much work wanting to be accomplished and so many days just recently "wasted."  I even pretty much piddled away the morning at the computer (doing some necessary stuff, but also just looking around).  I was on my way to another wasted day, when--well, I honestly don't know what happened.  I had a headache, did not feel like doing anything, and was glum.  But I got off my butt and between noon and nine o'clock:

--washed, then windexed, then painted most of the large windows in the living room (the divided lites and around).  I know you still have not seen the photos, but two of these windows are 6 feet by 11 feet.  That's a lot of window.

--washed the children's bedding and remade the beds

--planted new flowers in all my hanging pots and in half of the outside pots

--watered my flower garden (by hand)

--did two loads of laundry

--made the children meals and bathed them and put them to bed (DH"s men's group tonight, so I was a single mom all day/evening)

--washed dishes (ok, I did not get all of them done, but a full dishdrain is still worth something)

But BEST OF ALL I managed to stop being irritable, as I have been for the past several days, and was patient and loving with my kids, and was the kind of mom I want to be!

Why did all this great stuff happen?  Two reasons.  One, the kids were AMAZING today, and ate their lunch outside, down on the lower deck, and then played happily and nicely in various parts of the yard and on the backdeck the rest of the day.  Smiley came to help me with the gardening in the front yard at about 5:00, but before then was happy and well cared for by his big sisters, while I painted inside.  Seriously wonderful!  What a gift.  And I made sure they knew how much I appreciated it.  (They have been fighting more this past week, I think the normal stuff that happens after guests leave, but yucky--and Smiley often gets left out because of his age, even when the girls think they are including him, which leads him to, oh, kicking down their carefully constructed block towers and grabbing the people from their playhouses, etc.  Some of which he was even doing this morning. Which is why his ability to get along and follow along with his sisters this afternoon was such a blessing--so much so that I did not even put him down for a nap, because he never got cranky!)

The second reason why it was such a good day--getting my focus back on God!  Because while I wrote about it the other day, that doesn't mean I have been good about doing it, esp. with lots of rationale for why I can let myself off the hook for not doing it, like constant headaches and cramps and PMS.  And let's not forget the bleeding.  Why the heck do I have to be nice to you right now, little girl, since as you stand there and sass me I am bleeding profusely?  If I was bleeding this much from my arm you would not think about talking to me this way!  Yeah, I know--time to suck it up and be the Mom.  And you know what?  Even with the headache today and all the other stuff, I was at peace, and still got a lot done.  And it seemed to be just because I stopped focusing on myself (and my to do list) and focused on God and just started moving. 

Hmmmmm.  Despite whatever is going on in any day, maybe that really is the magic formula for things working out well:  turn towards God and start moving. 

on bleeding and life-giving

Ok, I lied.  I said I would finish whatever I wanted to write about my week in Illinois this past weekend--not for any particular reason, just because my brain liked how neat and tidy that would be.  Finish that one train before jumping into my usual stream of consciousness blogging.  Except it turns out the things left to say are not little things--not snippets.  They are big things, like homeschooling, and marriage, and breastfeeding and spiritual growth.  So I guess I will just let go of my need for tidiness here in this blog--because, really, why should my blog be any different than all the other facets of my happily untidy life?--and jump right on in to the swing of life as it is now.

And at this exact now, the pendulum of life has swung to that time of the month.
(so, no more snippets, but loads of TMI ahead)

This is a sorta big deal for me, since I have not had a period for. . . (counting on fingers. . . resorting to paper and pencil. . . ) 33 months.  Almost three years.  And I truly enjoyed being without periods, so am only reluctantly welcoming them back into my life. 

Welcome back.  We loathe and are embarassed by periods when we are teenagers, dismayed at the treachery of our bodies that would make us ache and stink and break out every month, and give any notion of premarital sex an ominous weight.  Then when we are women, more attuned to our bodies, to the give-and-take of pleasure and sacrifice and rhythm and blood, we are much more accepting of our menstrual cycles.  We are like little heathens, our bodies connected to the moon, to the earth, to loam and musk--fresh-bodied still, our spirits and flesh much more loosely bound.  The most heathen of us anticipating the blood rite with eagerness, with dread, with despair, then with relief and celebration as the spin of the roulette wheel once more chooses liberty, and the slow decay. We get practical about the mechanics of our monthly rituals, and even flippant, or if we are lucky, transparent about it all with a lover with whom we are safe.

When we have matured a little more in our sexuality, feeling a fullness of body, a readiness, a restlessness for achieving life, our periods take on a whole new weight.  They no longer represent inconvenience, uncomfortableness, awkwardness;  instead, they represent a cycle of life to which we are now drawn, in which we hope and trust with desire and awe.  Suddenly, sex takes on a spiritual weight, our bodies and spirits pulled together by awareness and longing--we are vulnerable, and beautifully so, as with our lover   we seek to make love tangible, physical, in a new little body into which we expect to pour forth all our joy and by which multiply our joy further.

And then, when motherhood is no longer about anticipating but immersion, when our bodies are no longer young and ripe but worn and dried out, when our spirits are weighed by the daily toil of loving those little bodies, little beings--then . . . ?

That's as far as I have gotten on this walk--I am not sure how the story ends.  But as you can tell, since two days ago I have been conscious of entering a new stage in my sexual/fertile life, and I am not sure how it will be defined, what it will hold.

But yesteday, in "celebration," I took the day off.  I knew it was coming--had warning signals for several days.  Night before last I knew it would be yesterday, and so I mapped the day all out:  stay in pj's all day, lay around as much as possible, eat whatever chocolate happens to be on hand. (Which, to my complete dissatisfaction, was NONE.  Next month I'm planning ahead.)  The girls and I did school, but it was a slow and easy day, more keeping up momentum than actually having goals to accomplish.  I actually did way more than I intended to--some necessary yardwork, and cooking for both lunch and dinner (again, next month I'm planning ahead), but I also allowed myself to not do a few other things that really needed doing, like vacuum and do laundry.

And, really, it was not that bad of a day. Cramp wise, I mean. On one hand, this could just mean my body is being a little slower to get back with the game now that I am so advanced in age, but the bad cramps will still come by next month.  OR if things are really starting to slow down, my body slowly shutting down its productivity, then maybe the cramps won't come back with such a vengenance ever again.  That alone would certainly make me look at periods much more affectionately.  Ah, poor tired ovaries, you've done good, girls, your run is nearly through.  Ah, my dear uterus, whose thick, rich nourishment I always distained, and yet which grew and held my babies strong and healthy--your showing this first month is but a wan reminder of your past vibrance, vitality, and my abundant fecundity, which I have taken for granted all these years. 

It is nice to be now at a place of feeling affection for my body like this.  When I was young, my body and I were most definately at odds; for several years the cramps and overall ill-feeling were so harsh I even threw up once a month.  Ugh.  I am very fortunate that my parents had sympathy, and let me stay home from school on those days.  But still, I remember days when I had something important I needed to do after school, like audition for a play, and so had to stick it out all day. . . and yes, even hurling at school, at least once in that exact same bathroom featured two posts earlier (first stall on the right--ah, memories).  And then, when I was in college a gynocologist told me about A*naprox (now available over the counter as A*leve, which, yes, it does).  If you have bad cramps and have not yet discovered the magic of A*leve, please let me urge you to try it out as quickly as possible.  No other pain killers come close.  But I must also confess that I have always doubled the recommended dose, to meet the dose prescribed for me, which is NOT medical advice, so always talk to your doctor before doing any drugs (does that phrase cover me from lawsuit?), but definitely ask him if you can try upping your A*naprox if you are wanting to feel the magic.

Yesterday I didn't need any pain meds.  The cramps, like I said, were not bad, and they reminded me oh so vaguely of post-partum cramps, which I actually always enjoyed (well, after the first day when I felt likeI was going to vomit or pass out from their intensity) because they reassured me after each baby that my uterus was doing what it could to reduce my distended belly back to what would be "the new normal."  And these cramps were such a pale imitation of what my periods used to be, that every ache in my back and abdomen was a positive reminder of how great this was in comparison.  And I remembered too, nostalgically and a little awed, how those heavy periods and horrible cramping had meant there were some serious baby-making hormones at work, and organs eager to do their job. 
And, yes, I have been quite fertile.  Proof is on my sidebar--but that is not even the half of it. Seriously.  Once we decided to try for our first child, I think it took us a few months to get pregnant.  But no more than 3, and that includes the time my body was re-adjusting from being on the pill.  When our first baby, Sunny, was about 16 months old, we decided we would like to have a second child, but did not want them to be too far apart in age, and knew it might take a while to get pregnant (in theory), so I actually weaned Sunny completely so that I would resume ovulation and menstruation and we could try for a second.  My body jumped into overdrive big time--and I started having two periods a month!  Well, at least I had three periods in a month and a half, and then I got pregnant.

Years later, once again I ended up weaning our second, Merry, at 18 months, and once again my body kicked into overdrive, and the exact same things happened.  By this point we had figured out that fertility was not an issue for us.  We also realized we still had our senses of humor, which is fortunate for my death-defying Dear Husband, who, during my third period in two months, listened to me griping about something and then asked with mock concern, "Oh, is it that time of the two weeks again?" 

When I weaned our third child, Happy, I am pretty sure my body was wacko at the start, but this time I did not pay it any mind, except to be glad whenever I had a period because--as I have mentioned before--we did not think we wanted any more kids.  So, it took a while longer, what with the various methods of birth control we were using and all, at which God must have just looked and chuckled, but a short while later we ended up with Smiley.  And now, here we are in this strange spot--feeling really, truly blessed and submitted to God in this area of life, and yet feeling done with our family, and not having any clue what that will look or feel like.

So the blood yesterday, today, brings up so many emotions, so many memories, such strong fears and hopes for our future.  I do welcome it, as symbolic of this journey I am on in body and mind and spirit, and give it over to God, along with the fears and hopes.  I feel like He and I are embarking upon a stage in the journey even bigger than where we have walked before, and while it is a journey with my husband, it is even more a journey of MySelf, walking in faith. 

You brave (and not easily offended/made queasy) readers who have made it through this post--you have my sincere admiration.  Thanks for coming along. 


Coming soon. . . the complete Blessed restrospective of child-birth and lactation!  ; )