Christmas, Ruined--Continued.

So.

I didn't mention one other gift MIL gave me that same fateful Christmas ten years ago. I didn't list it in my previous post as one of the Three Rejections because it was not brought up and held over our heads during the Big Heated Discussion of Christmas Rejections Past we had while in Chico for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago.  But as it made the Catalog of Unforgivable Offenses for several years, it is still worth mentioning.

It's a tragic story. I'll make it brief.

Sometime before Christmas MIL took me shopping in Chico to look for presents for the kids. She took me to a cute little store downtown that has all kinds of fun things for kids--a lot of well made, quality toys. A nice store, if a little expensive.  While we were looking around, I saw a little lap harp, which made me remark off-hand to MIL that someday I'd love to have a hammered dulcimer.  Now, that is truly a desire of my heart, but yet not something that will likely ever be--hammered dulcimers take up a lot of floor space, and they are notoriously difficult to keep in tune, esp. in moist environments (and there are a lot of strings to tune, so maintenance would be no small deal).  And they are very expensive. And I won't have time to learn a new instrument until the kids are out of the house, at the soonest. So, it was a remark made just to be sociable, with no other intent.

Well.

On that Christmas day, as we were opening gifts amid the chaos, MIL handed me a black soft case, that clearly had a musical instrument inside. But the shape left me puzzled--what could MIL be giving me?

And I opened a lovely wooden stringed instrument. But after making some positive oohs of admiration, I had to ask, "What is it?"  And MIL said, with a note of why-are-you-asking-me in her voice, "A dulcimer."  I must have had a dawning look of recognition on my face, because then MIL clarified and added, "You said you had always wanted a dulcimer."  And immediately my heart sank, because there was no way I could go back in time and change the way I had received the gift and show her the enthusiasm she rightly deserved for trying to give me what she thought was the secret desire of my heart.

Turns out, there is more than one kind of dulcimer:

The one pictured on the bottom there is a small hammered dulcimer. (They can be as large as a small desk.)  The one on the top there is a mountain dulcimer, and looks exactly like the one MIL gave me that Christmas.

Oh, how sweet of MIL to hear my spoken wish and then go to real effort to try to make that wish come true. Seriously--that mountain dulcimer was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift I think I have ever received, and certainly so from my MIL.

But. (Of course you knew there had to be a but!)

I know my confusion when I was opening it confused and hurt MIL--she thought I would be delighted, and I am sure that was a let-down.  She had really outdone herself with extravagant gifts that year: the dulcimer, the white gold earrings, the black leather jacket for DH.  She was really trying hard, and here clearly the dulcimer had been wrong somehow and so had been the jacket. . . Sigh. I really feel for MIL when I look back.  (And then the rejection of the dolls a few days later, and then the rejection of the earrings some months later. . . Sigh.)

I am being totally honest here, admitting completely the things DH and I did wrong. Mostly I did wrong.  But also in all honesty, we didn't mean to be so horribly self-focused and picky.  It was like one bad misunderstanding after another, and it all contributed to poor MIL's feelings of Rejection.

Her little Christmas heart was broken.

Over the years since, I have mentally walked back through it all, over and over, thinking about all the things we could/should have said or done differently. If only we had known. If only we had realized.

But one thing I  have decided is that there are some Very Good Things that do NOT make Very Good Gifts.  A safe bet when trying to figure out if something is a good gift is to think, "Would I like someone to give something like this to me in this way?" For example, I think we all agree it is not particularly wise or thoughtful to buy any expensive clothing item for someone else, unless it is accompanied by a gift receipt.  Everyone has different tastes, and no one likes to get clothing they don't like but then feel badly about not wanting to keep.

[Mother, I apologize right now for the striped velour turtleneck top and pants set I bought you for Christmas the year Sunny was born. I was feeling rushed and likely still impaired by birth hormones. Not only was the outfit too big, but it was not your style--even though I still say you could have rocked it. You very politely expressed your concerns as you modeled it for me, and I tried to be enthusiastic about how it would work fine--when instead I should have suggested we take it back and go looking together for something you liked better. Thank you for never holding it against me, and I hope I put the receipt in the bag. ; )  But I learned my lesson well, and have never bought anyone in my extended family clothes again.]

So expensive leather jackets definitely fall into the category of Very Good Things but not in the category of Very Good Gifts, unless you let the person pick it out themselves.  And I've decided the same is true of musical instruments, unless the person has specifically asked for it.  Yes, the gift was very sweet and thoughtful--that is definitely true.  But then MIL persisted in asking every time we saw each other whether or not I had learned how to play it yet.  Um, I was the mother of two young children, with a baby on the way. I really did not have time to learn to play an instrument. So the dulcimer had been tucked out of harms way in my closet, and was waiting for the someday when I would. But MIL took that as a sign of rejection too. After all, why wouldn't I be learning to play it if it was a Good Gift?  For years after she would bring it up, and express her hurt over how I didn't like the instrument, and I would very emphatically tell her I DID like the instrument very much, and that it was one of the sweetest gifts I have every received. Both true!  But she could not believe me because I was not learning how to play it in all my spare time.

But, this one Gift I think has a happy ending. Because when Merry was old enough to learn an instrument, I saw a mountain dulcimer up on Sunny's guitar teacher's shelf, and asked if she knew how to play it and would she be willing to teach little Merry.  The teacher graciously complied, and so Merry took one year of dulcimer lessons. Just enough to learn how to play "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" at the winter recital:

I think MIL finally saw the instrument being used and enjoyed, and so has let that initial disappointment and the subsequent feelings of rejection go.

But I still say that the unfortunate misunderstanding about the hammered dulcimer vs the mountain dulcimer contributed to MIL's feelings about being so thoroughly rejected that particular Christmas.  So I thought I would tell you this story too, so you would understand how so many horrible coincidences and misunderstandings and mistakes worked together to create such a Christmas from which MIL has never been able to recover.

When I look at this photo, which I just discovered while browsing our photo files to determine the exact year of The Fateful Christmas--2004, exactly ten years ago--I don't see any malice in those faces. I just see two very young people who can't imagine the consequences of their ignorance and poor judgement.

(Isn't it a cute photo though? FIL, DH's sister Auntie N, Sunny's foot there kicking up, me, DH, all down at Great-Grandmas.)

Sigh.

To be continued. 

The Year We Ruined Christmas Forever

Ok, so I was planning on blogging about blessings, starting after Thanksgiving. I am still going to do that, but I think it will have to be pushed back until after Christmas. There's something else that has been weighing on me since Thanksgiving--well, actually it has been a Christmas specter for years now, rising up and looming grimly over us like the Ghost of Christmas That Should Never Have Been.  But this year it is all coming to a climax--here's hoping (and praying) that it will all come to good purpose. And that me blogging about it will help release me from the tyranny of the bad feelings--anger, sadness, guilt, resentment.

It all started I think ten years ago, about when Sunny was 4 and Merry 2. I can't remember if we had Happy yet or if she was a lovely little bun in the proverbial oven. Or if its been really 11 years. (Doesn't matter exactly--ten years--oh, the ridiculousness of me having to tell this story ten years later. Ten years of bitterness & bad feelings harbored, fed. Sigh.)

By the way, I don't mean to be melodramatic. I'm just tired, and stressed. Words flow, and I don't feel like couching them here. I mean, I can only think of a few people who will read this, and none of you will judge me for my wording, and I'd like to express myself and feel safe--I think I need such an outlet this week. And I think I may have relayed some of this story before--but I don't think I have ever explained the whole thing. Today I'd like to take the time to write it all out, because I need to process this and I know the writing will help.

So that fateful Christmas ten years (or so) ago, we went to DH's folks' house as usual. It seemed like a normal Christmas, just a little overwhelming. Now that I think about it, it was likely our first Christmas in this teeny little house, which is a worthwhile factor to consider as you hear this story. Christmas morning we were opening gifts with Oma and Opa--what the kids call DH's parents--and all was going fine. But the way they open gifts everyone does it at once, so it can be a little chaotic and you don't really have a chance to chat about gifts as they are opened. Which is also a factor to this story.  And amidst the clutter and chaos, Three Fateful Gifts were given.

The first Gift was a very thoughtful and generous one; MIL had bought me a pair of small white gold hoop earrings. Very thoughtful of her because she recognized that I prefer white gold over yellow. Other than that, there was no conversation about them, no indication of their true worth in the mind of the giver.  I gave warm and genuine thanks to MIL for the gift.

The second Gift was a little less thoughtful, but still generous; MIL and FIL had picked out a black leather jacket for DH. Now, that is also a nice gift.  But. . . here's where I confess that DH and I were not wise and we were ungracious. We both looked at that jacket, and wished they weren't giving it to us. It was a jacket style that would have looked much better on our dads than on DH.  We didn't need the jacket.  We had just moved into a teeny tiny house and we didn't want one. more. thing. to have to squeeze in, let alone something we didn't like.  So when MIL saw our lack of the proper enthusiasm, she very graciously told DH that she could take it back to the store if he didn't like it.  So, after trying it on and thinking for a few days--and me pressuring DH to take his mom at her word and not take home something we didn't want that would take up a lot of closet space--DH told her that he decided not to keep it.

Later of course we realized a) she didn't mean what she had said about returning it, b) she did not return it, and c) she was really, really mad and hurt that we did not take it.  I think they still have the jacket and now FIL wears it. Which would be appropriate, and would not even have to be a negative thing--after all, they bought it because they liked it, right?--except that it is a negative thing because it is a symbol of our rejection of their attempt to show us love.

The third gift--well, first of all, MIL and I have a little disagreement going on whether or not it was a gift to begin with. But MIL says it was, and that's what's important to this narrative, so let's run with that. So the third gift was--ok, I guess I'm not exactly sure exactly what the gift was, so let me just try to explain. At some point before opening gifts on Christmas Day, a red wagon full of dolls was moved next to the Christmas tree.  I admit to some trepidation when I saw that wagon, because that was a lot of dolls, and I did have a fear that they were all supposed to go home with us. But most of the dolls appeared to be dolls MIL had bought at garage sales, the kinds of toys she would routinely buy and then either keep at their house for the grandkids or would try to send home with us. But not the kind of thing she would usually give to one of the kids as a Christmas present. There was one clearly new doll among the bunch though, a nice, albeit large, baby doll.  MIL has dolls and toys throughout the entire house as decorations, but esp. in the living room and under/around the Christmas tree. So a wagon full of dolls might just be decor, or toys they placed in the living room for the kids to play with while we were visiting there.

At no point in the chaotic gift-giving did either I or DH observe MIL giving any of the dolls to the two little girls as Christmas presents.  In fact, I distinctly remember the gift-giving being over and us leaving the room to go finish dinner preparations, and the wagon still sitting there untouched and me thinking, "Well, I guess it is just decoration then."  I am sure the girls played with the dolls at some point of our stay, but I don't really remember anything notable about that.

When it was time to load up all the Christmas gifts, DH and I were really sweating about how much we had to cram in the car, and when MIL wanted to buy us that car top carrier, I remember thinking, "Lady, if it all doesn't fit in the car, what makes you think it all will fit it into the house?!"  In fact, the main reason we did not take them up on the car carrier was because we were worried it would end up being a psychological thing of encouraging even MORE (or bigger!) stuff always being sent home with us every Christmas.  

But then when it was time to leave, and we were almost entirely all packed (to the gills), MIL said, "Aren't you going to take the dolls?"  That was so awkward, because we didn't want to be rude, but of course we were not entirely sure what she was trying to tell us to take. Then it comes out that she intended the dolls--I guess all of them!--to be for the girls. Since the car was jam packed (and since we still didn't know if the dolls were a Christmas gift or just a "here's something fun Oma wants you to have" deal), I suggested we could leave them in Chico for now and the girls could play with them when they visited. But MIL argued that they were for the girls and so we had to at least take one. So I said, sure, why don't we let Sunny pick out one doll. (This is what makes me wonder if Merry was only 18 months--and so this was 11 years ago--or why wouldn't she have been told to pick one out too. . . ? )  And then to I think both our surprise, Sunny did not pick the clearly brand new big Costco baby doll with the cute matching outfit--she picked a very pre-loved garage sale doll, complete with one cloudy eye.  Both MIL and I asked her if she was sure that was the one she wanted to take home, and she said yes. ; )  So, that's the doll that came home with us. (The rest of the dolls have lived since then up in Chico, where they are well enjoyed when we visit. And at some point I snuck the doll she had picked back up to Chico and quietly returned it to the collection, because Sunny did not really play with it.)

So.

Three Fateful Gifts.

The dolls, which we rejected.

The dad jacket, which we rejected.

And then the earrings.  I think this last was the gift that broke the camels back. Because they were post back, which I really don't like to wear, and they were really nothing special looking--just nice plain and modern-looking little hoops on a hinged post.  Nice little earrings!  But not something I ever thought I would wear. And the one time I wore them I really pinched by ear lobe trying to close them. And the style of them is such that the day I did wear them I was totally paranoid that they would be really easy to lose--if one comes unhinged, then the weight from the front would totally pull it out of my ear and it would be lost in seconds. The thought of losing one made me panic, and I didn't want responsibility for that very possible event.  I knew I would probably never wear them again.

I did think about keeping them for my girls someday.  They were small and I have plenty of storage space for one little pair of earrings.

But.  I kinda rebelled. I was overwhelmed with the amount of stuff we had just brought into our house and could not bear the thought of even one more little thing that I had to keep that I didn't want. I was also not a little resentful of how trapped we were feeling by the amount of stuff being given to us, and how we had to keep it because it was given to us for the children. Something in me snapped, and I thought, "I can give this one thing away, because it belongs to me."  But of course I would not be so disrespectful of the gift's value (or of the giver's feelings) to give them away to just anyone--that would be entirely inappropriate!  No, instead I sent them to my little sister to wear in her wedding. She likes white gold too, and the style of the earrings was totally her.  It made me happy to think about her wearing them, and I felt psychological release from the tyranny of Having To Keep Things.

But I fully admit it--it was passive aggressive and neither wise nor loving.  I think I did it as a kind of desperate psychological stand against what feels like a serious oppression, which DH and I have never known what to do about. We feel so helpless when it comes to limiting what comes into our house, in terms of his parents.

I could write volumes about this.  It was not a problem until we had kids & moved to CA. Since then it has felt like a huge problem. I have bins of things under the house we don't want or need but we have to hold on to because they were given to us by DH's parents. BINS. We have overflowing shelves and closets, and no where to put things, and the kids don't play with half of it, and we would be so much happier without it, but we have to keep it because they gave it to us. God's been teaching me over the years to be content in plenty--but I'm also trying to be a good steward of our home, our time, etc. We also really don't want to be ungrateful people, and try to appreciate whatever people give us--but how can we appreciate something that overall has a negative impact on our home? Our marriage?  How can we be legitimately submitting our family values to MIL's desires, chronically?  It just does not seem wise or healthy. But what can we do about it?  We really do want to show MIL and FIL love and appreciation. . . but the burden of their giving feels like shackles to me. . .

I know, I know. I sound all melodramatic. And really, there is SO much more I could write about the Stuff Angst. I'll spare whoever of you are reading this already too long tale.

Well. I don't know how long later MIL did ask about the earrings, and I told her the truth. And she was upset.  I thought they were probably a very sweet impulse buy at Costco, but even if they were, it turns out MIL assigned them a whole LOT of significance, and intended them to represent our relationship, because in countries like Saudi Arabia and India gold jewelry is the only thing a woman truly owns, and it is like insurance against the future.  So for a Mother-in-Law to give gold jewelry to her DIL is a good thing. I don't really understand all that MIL feels it signifies, but I really do appreciate that she had thought and meaning behind her gift.  That she thought she was doing something special.

Oh, why didn't she just tell me what they meant when she gave them to me at Christmas?!  She intended them to be heirlooms--yes, she has said as much, repeatedly--and there I go being so callous. So hurtful.

Yes, I think maybe a little part of me wanted to hurt her. No, that's not right. I have never purposefully wanted to hurt her. But I think I didn't care if she was hurt (see? passive-aggressive) by my giving them away. I was not doing it to hurt her, and I didn't want her to be hurt, but if she was hurt by my choice, oh well.

I do feel badly that MIL (and likely FIL by proxy) felt rejected--for me giving away the earrings, for Doug not liking the jacket, for us not eagerly taking all the dolls.

The dolls was a completely misunderstanding. If we had known the dolls were an official Xmas present we never would have left them behind (or would have made it clear it was only until we could have room for them on the next trip).

The jacket was more intentional on our parts, but still a misunderstanding--If we had known MIL would not return the jacket and would be so mad and hurt, of course we would have taken it and given the appropriate thanks and DH would have pulled it out when they were visiting like we all do with such gifts to show love to the giver.

The earrings were my own rebellion. But still, based upon misunderstanding--if I had known the significance MIL attributed to them I would have kept them.

Sigh.

Ok, it's taken me all day to write this, in little snippets. It's just the beginning of the story, and its not a pleasant story, so its ok if you don't continue to read it, whoever has gotten this far.  It's a very painful story, and one that has gone on and on and on, and which feels like it has come to a head this year.

So, I'm going to try to write more about this later. I just had to get the specifics of the background down, so everything else will be clearer later on.

Giving Thanks--for Dear Friends

This is a greatly overdue post--but yet the perfect time to finally share it. : )

In October my dear Susan and her two girls came out to visit us!  Susan has visited us before, but this was the first time the girls came too. And I am SO glad they did.  Their visit truly was the highlight of the Fall:

Tiny house + huge bag of pebbles for a landscaping project in the works = perfect under layer for the tent in the front driveway.  DH and our kids slept out in the tent all but the last night, leaving the beds in the house for me & Susan and her girls. The last night all the girls slept out in the tent together (Smiley came back to his own bed for the night).  Everyone out in the tent said it was fine sleeping. The only issue was the roadwork that was being done out in front of our house throughout their visit, which resulted in steel plates on the road--which were LOUD when driven over.  But still, everyone was rested enough that week, to have a good time. And our kids liked it so much they asked if they could sleep in the tent even after our friends left.  And they did, for over a week. So, clearly the accommodations were fine. : )

I think this photo is one of my favorites. This was only the first or second morning.  The girls pretty much immediately loved one another. Seeing them play and hang out so happily together all the visit really made me happy.  At one point they even announced that they were more like cousins than friends. : )  Which of course is perfect, since Susan is like a sister to me!

I actually don't have any photos of most of the time we spent together, because it involved the kids all running away down the creek behind our house, exploring and together finding and creating a special area/fort they named "Gentrock" (which is a combination of both families' last names). They even made a flag for it. : )

Meanwhile, Susan and I got to escape just enough, to sit overlooking the ocean and discuss raising teens, or have lunch. Or cook lunch together. Just doing the girlfriend things I love to do, and getting a chance to talk about all manner of things that were important to us. 

So, the kinds of things we did most of the time I couldn't take pictures of--but am storing up in my heart. : )  

But we did do a few official outings. We went to see wild sea lions and sea otters at Moss Landing State Beach. And in these photos we visited the redwoods at Henry Cowell State Park. Not that they weren't playing under redwoods all day at our house. . . but nature hikes are always fun!

Everyone squeezing into the car for a moment while we drove from one car to the next. (Funny--I never realized until this moment that the inside of my car is white!)

Another fun thing the girls (and sometimes a grownup) did throughout the visit--string games. : )

And on their last night, we had to visit the Boardwalk!  

I love carousels.  This one is special not only for being in the movie The Lost Boys (as are other parts of the Boardwalk), but also because it has a thing that you can pull rings from as you go around (if you are sitting on an outside horse and can reach, that is). . . 

. . . which you then try to throw into the mouth of that scary clown on the wall. 

And Susan got it in his mouth the very first time around!  (It's much harder to do than it sounds, and usually the bells that herald success only go off once a ride.)  

Susan, this is you right before you threw!

Ah, I love this smile of victory!

J, if you look carefully (and double-click on the photo to enlarge it) you can see yourself swinging out on the left there. : )

Merry and L

The final day--photos and goodbyes. : (  But I think the smiles in this first photo sum up the week pretty well. 

The two biggest girls.  

The two youngest girls. 

Hugs all around. 

Susan & Me. 

We love you and miss you!

Quickie post

This is just to say I am ALIVE.

; )

Oh, man. Life feels really new these days--new kinds of hard, new kinds of good. I've started several blog posts in the past couple of months and never get them done, so let's see how brief I can be:

--Tomorrow is the second day of my third LitWits Master Class workshop. Whoo-wee!  This has been such a big part of my life this Fall, and very good. Reading good books, thinking critically, doing LOTS of writing. . . all a new challenge for me, but using my brain and doing something I enjoy really feels good.  The first two workshops--Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Hound of the Baskervilles were SO hard though. We were trying to do too much in the workshops, and Jenny (my dear Becky's sister--the other half of the LitWits team) and I were creating more than 20 pages of writing for each workshop. Often completely from scratch. I'd let the novel lead me naturally to the topics the students and I would work with in the classrooms--so for example, Sherlock Holmes quick naturally led to deductive and inductive reasoning, and also logical fallacies. Perfect, right? Except I didn't really know much about those things, and so I'd first have to educate myself about them, and then take what I'd learned and make it into a (hopefully) clear and instructive handout--with activities. Whew!  And of course the bigger goal of each two-day workshop was writing an essay. . . . A lot of work, but we wanted parents to feel like they were really getting a lot of meat for the price of the workshop, you know?

Well, that was not sustainable. : )  So the three of us--Becky, Jenny and I--met after the second workshop and brainstormed what would be just as good for the students but with much less work on our ends. Besides--while all that writing was important high school stuff and met the high expectations of our homeschool charter's college prep track, I imagine it would have burned out the students over time too.  And so for the November workshop, we pared it down to one in-class writing project, and a group one at that: a persuasive speech!  The novel for this month is A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, and so it could not get more perfect than the students being divided up into three groups (one representing the French Revolutionaries, one representing the French Aristocrats, and one representing the American Revolutionaries) and having to write and present a short speech with their groups in which they either defend the correctness of their stance and actions, or . . .

There I go, being long-winded! Short version: this third workshop I still had to do lots of self-educating beforehand (I had never studied the French Revolution prior), but the writing prep was SO much easier, but the kids really seemed to enjoy the first class and I have a feeling tomorrow's class will be even more fun, since they make their speeches. And then I will let them eat cake. Of course.

In conclusion: new job was very hard, now getting much easier, still work but not too much, overall one of the most rewarding things in my life this Fall, even if one of the hardest. DH is entirely supportive which of course is what makes it work.

--Schooling. The transition into high school has  been a disaster.  Too many things to say at the moment, and its my birthday and I don't feel like thinking about the negative today, but let's just say I had NO idea what I was getting into, and our homeschool charter also had to make some new rules after school had started, and my lovely thirteen-year-old daughter has not willingly complied with any of this new rigorous schedule. Homeschooling independently so we could do the work we thought was important and go at our own pace would be my ideal--and that's pretty much what we have been able to do all this time for the lower grades. But that's not an option right now, as DH wants us to stay under the charter umbrella, for many reasons, which I completely understand. But WOW has this been hard and very unpleasant. And is ongoing. And which I am finally realizing I won't be able to resolve just with my own efforts of better parenting and more structured schooling--so my wonderful school liaison Terry is so graciously stepping in and Sunny will be accountable to her now instead of me for getting her school done. I'm trying to not feel like a failure about this, but instead see it as wise use of resources. ;  )

Still, once again I'm so aware of all of the blessings wrapped up in this struggle. That we can homeschool.  That we have Terry. That we have bright kids who I need to remember God will turn out the way He wants them, if I leave over the feelings of control for their outcomes to His Holy Spirit.

--Parenting.  Yeah, it's been hard. I'd rather not go there. ; )

--Wifery.  My Dear Husband and I celebrated 19 years of marriage last month. And by celebrated I mean forgot about until the next week and then verbally acknowledged to one another. Yeah, we're not big into celebrating that. I've always wondered if there was something meaningful about that, but I've decided it means we care much more about the big picture than one day a year.  That and we're assuming we'll be together as long as we are alive, so what's the big rush celebrating. We'll do something special next year. ; )  For some reason things have been harder between us this Fall too--maybe related to the other stressors in my/our life?

--House Falling Apart. Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.  I'll maybe say more about this another time. But again, trying to focus on the positive. : )

--I had a strange, chronic pain down both arms for weeks and weeks.  It was probably caused by some kink in my neck, and it made my whole upper body hurt all the time, esp. my arms and shoulders.  But just yesterday  I realized it feels almost normal again!  Yay!  But really, overall we have all been very healthy this year so far, for which I am grateful. I have come down with a bit of something a few days ago, but so far it is a mild cold, maybe a touch of fever but not bad. I can breathe through both nostrils at night, so you all know I'm content!

Yes, things have been unexpectedly hard the past three months.  But even with all that, I feel pretty good about life and the things I've still managed to get done. For example, I cleaned the house top to bottom--that end of the summer necessity. I am this week listing a whole bunch of clothes on Ebay to sell, to hopefully make a little money for Christmas. DH and I may be a bit overwhelmed with house issues at the moment, but we are also being productive, slowly taking care of things, and it feels good. I hope to show you some of our finished projects soon!

Maybe none of these things seems like a big deal, but together they have all added up to a very full and very HARD fall season this year.  I'm trusting that we are slowly getting things under control and moving forward as we can, so that we will enter the next school semester so much better than we went into the last one.

Ok, so that was long. But not nearly as long as it could have been!

It's not really what I would love to share with you all, but it seemed necessary to get any of you interested readers up to speed with life here in the little house under the redwoods.

I fully intend on blogging the BEST stuff today too. : )

Or maybe tomorrow. Or soon. ; )

Much love to you all!

One month later

Well, has certainly been the most dry spell this blog has ever seen, even considering Lents!

I'm here, I'm still fine. Life just got busy and stressful and a wee bit overwhelming. (I think this actually happened last Semester too, that the month was crazy and I wondered, "What happened?!" Which makes me wonder if it really happens every September and I'm just not that good at remembering.) But overall things are good. So let me make a quick post about what's been going on!

That sums up a lot.

; )

Our first LitWits "Master Class" workshop was this past Friday. It took me about 6 weeks of a LOT of writing to plan & prepare all the handouts.  I am working for my dear Becky and her lovely sister Jenny, and they will "own" the handouts at the end, so we had a lot of ongoing dialogue over those weeks trying to figure out what was important to do, what wasn't, how best to say it, etc. It was not easy for any of us, but I fear it was hardest on Jenny, who had the job of actually editing and formatting the handouts, which we did not end up finishing until the day before the workshop!  Too much good information, too much fun stuff to share, but trying to pare it down for 4 hours of lit/writing instruction with very specific goals--hard! 

But also rewarding. Last Fri was the first time I ever worked specifically with just high school students, and they were fabulous kids. Seriously awesome kids. It was hard wondering what they were thinking, if they hated the class, were bored, etc. because they were much more quiet than I expected, and it made discussion like pulling teeth at a few moments. ; )  But we've already heard back from two families who said their kids really liked it, and I am already planning how to make our second week of Dandelion Wine productive but hopefully even more fun!

I teach lit for the first hour, then we work on writing for the second. And then the third hour the instructor at The Art Factory (where we meet--adorable little art studio just a few minutes from my house) led the students in an art project related to the theme of the novel.  For this first workshop it was a still life of a bottle and dandelions, done in pastels. It looked like so much fun I asked Yvette if I could do it too, and she said yes. : )  So I sat there with the kids and did art too, and it was SO therapeutic after 2 stressful weeks, and it was fun to relate with the kids when not trying to engage them in my agenda as their teacher.

So, the Master Classes are a big part of my life right now. And if the workshops keep being well-attended (we had 10 this time, which was great!) then doing them will be a steady job.  And the writing will get easier as we go, because we will have created the overall structure for the handouts, etc. And because we will know the kinds of things that are most important to teach and how best to do them (that's the hope at least). But I will still need to figure out how to get regular writing and thinking time in my weeks, and that's the part that is tricky.

Esp. because of course this was the month during which we were also transitioning back into Full School--and oh, it has been hard.  It seems almost impossible to fit into the week all the things we want/need to do.  But that's why we have the whole month to transition and figure out how this is going to work. : )  The BEST thing, though--my girls have done such a fantastic job starting up school and returning to the grind without grumbling! Their attitudes have been wonderful, and I am truly thankful for that.

The boy. . . let's just say he coasted along much of last year, which was bad on my part. But I figured, eh, he's in kindergarten. He'd be playing most of the day there anyway. ; )  And as long as he did some school every day, it was fine. But now he is in first grade and so needs to start being more focused and self-disciplined. Which means Mommy needs to carve time to just be with him and help him stay focused and learn self-discipline. In the past we did it first thing in the morning, with him sitting here at my elbow at the desk working while I had my morning tea and blog time. But recently it has been harder to make that happen, maybe just because I have been trying to actually work on my own writing so much, or maybe because our morning routine has shifted so I'm helping his sisters at the time he and I used to work together. . . anyway, Smiley is more than happy for Mommy to put off his school time. I am so fortunate at this point that he has so many willing sisters to help him with reading, math games, science stuff, etc. So even when I feel like I am failing him, he is doing school every day, and learning!

But I still can't wait for September to be over.

There was more I'd love to share, but this is already taking longer than I planned. : )  And has been interrupted by children, breakfast, reading and writing for the next workshop. . . if I'm not careful I'll get completely sidetracked and never post this!

So, final thoughts:

Susanna, mother of Tommy, has shared a few more posts since Tommy's death. If you are interested in their story, I encourage you to read them. Please pray for this family, and especially this momma. And if you can leave a word of encouragement, I am sure it would really bless them.

Susanna's account of what happened, and how she is choosing to focus on Truth.

Susanna missing Tommy.

Shabbat Shalom, everyone.

Sorrow and hope

Friends & family, I am pretty sure I have shared with you some of the story of the Musser family, who adopted Katie and most recently Tommy.  If you are not familiar with their family story, I urge you to stop by Susanna's blog and read the links on the right sidebar that detail Katie's story, Tommy's story, etc.

God has used this family and particularly that mom in SUCH a huge way in the past several years.  These people are the hands and feet of Jesus.  Their love and their devotion to justice for the unloved and forgotten children in one former Soviet-bloc country have had a world-wide impact of Good.

And tragically, this past week their son Tommy died in an accidental drowning.

So, so so so sad.  I am sure this family is suffering so much.

Here is the link to Susanna's blog in case you want to read about their family or leave a loving comment: The Blessing of Verity.

If you feel led to show your love for this family in a tangible way, please read this post by Adeye at her blog: No Greater Joy Mom

But most importantly--if your heart is breaking for this family, or for the plight of the older special needs orphans in the world, please read this last post and see how you can give hope to two other families who right now are so close to bringing home their adoptive children home:  from Micah Six Eight.

So much love and wonderful things happening in the world. So much to celebrate. And still so much hardship and pain.  If you would like to help ease the hardship or pain of any of these families through these links, more joy to you.  If you are led to share any of the stories within your own friend circles, please do.  Esp. the last link.  Helping more unloved, neglected kids get into loving families--the Mussers would be grateful.

Much love to you all today.

blessed by facebook

This is going to be a very quick post, as it is late and my in-laws are here, and it will be an early morning.

But something just happened that made me so surprised and so grateful.  I had to quickly share, because my heart was swelling with love.

But first, some background:

One of the reasons I have not been blogging as much recently is because I have a new project I'm working on.  I have mentioned LitWits before--the local workshops and online literature guides developed and taught by my dear Becky and her sister Jenny, that help kids explore great books with sensory immersion.  My girls have been fortunate enough to have been with LitWits since the beginning (as soon as they were old enough), and I know those workshop experiences will be a part of their lives that they will look back on with great affection when they are older.

Well, now my own Sunny is about to start her first year of high school, and it is time for her to transition out of LitWits (which is geared for kids roughly ages 9-12).  Apparently a lot of other parents who love the LitWits workshops found their children facing the same dilemma--and so a few months back Becky and Jenny approached me to see if I would be interested in co-leading LitWits "Master Classes" workshops for high schoolers!

YES!  Immediately I knew it was the right time to jump into teaching classes, something I have thought I would do "someday."  The timing feels right, and I'm very excited to be co-leading these classes, and getting paid to do something I love.  If you want to see the official flier, here you go! (I still need to quickly finish the write-up for each novel, so parents know why these are fabulous books and worth reading and studying. But you get the gist!)

I have had so much fun planning so far.  It has been a lot of work, because I want to make the workshops really meet the needs of the local homeschool families, so I had to research CA state requirements for each grade level in history and English and essentially plan out all the texts I would teach over the course of the next four years!  I just needed to make sure we covered all the books I really want my own daughter to be studying, as well as fitting the books into where they made the most sense for what other things the kids will need to be learning (for example, here in CA high school Juniors study US History--so I purposefully arranged the text selection to suit that).  After I went through the process of getting the chosen books approved by our local homeschool charter school (so the kids will receive the highest level of credit for the work), then I could start actually planning for the specific books I'll be teaching this fall.  As you can imagine, I've been doing a LOT of reading (ahhhhhhhhh!) and have spent many an hour pouring over lists of books and scritching and scratching away with pencil and paper, trying to fit everything in the best place.

Seeing the flier now makes it real--it's happening!  And today apparently either Becky or Jenny posted the flier on facebook.  And a lovely woman--who I know well enough to care about, but don't actually know all that well--posted this comment in response:

This looks amazing. I'm a huge Lisa Craddock fan. Not sure how her huge heart fits in her tiny body.

Actually, at this moment my heart is melted all over the floor.  Re-reading that while writing this, I'm once again completely floored at those words. I know enough about her to know she is a generous and kind woman, a fellow homeschooling mom and Christian. In fact, I know her mainly because one time she was clearing our her massive homeschool book and supplies collection, and invited Becky and me to come take what we wanted. (How awesome is that! From her generosity we are starting a little Vintage Homeschool Library!) But I didn't know she knew anything about me at all.  

So there's the first surprise.

Here's the second surprise: I have been on a facebook fast since the beginning of summer. (More about that another time.) So I have not been getting on facebook to read the feed, but just hopping on occasionally to check up on someone or look into information posted on our local  homeschool group.  I think I have glanced at the feed twice since I started the fast, tonight being the third time.  There's no reason why I should have seen that comment.  I was not tagged in it, so would not have been alerted in any manner.  If I had not broken the facebook fast for a few minutes while winding down here tonight, all that love would have completely slipped under my radar. 

All that surprise leads me to think I shouldn't really be surprised--that Someone led me there tonight, to see those words on a night when I could really use some kindness. Some loving words.  Things have been going pretty well with my MIL this visit (MUCH better than the last two times), at least so far this one afternoon and evening. But still, a good visit is a slightly uncomfortable & stressful one, and I've been very focused on keeping calm and patient and non-reactive, keeping my eyes warm and my smile ready, no matter what comes at me. : )

There's so much love in that woman's comment.  I don't think her words say nearly as much about me as they do about herself.  But still, it means she has seen something in me that spoke to her own heart.  I'd love to think it is Jesus.  Because if someone whom I have only met three times in my life has seen a glimmer of something so Good in me, then it takes a little pressure off of what I'm feeling tonight.  It's ok.  He is with me. He will work through me, even when I'm completely oblivious to it.  I can show people His love just by being myself.  

If I remember to get myself out of His way! ; )

Ok, now it's late and morning will come quickly.  I hope all of you have a wonderful start to your week. And I hope you all get some Divine encouragement!  Please let me know if you do!