Dear Lizzie,
Well, we are tearing up your house again. Sometimes I am overwhelmed at the amount of work this is going to be, sometimes I am just excited to see what it will become. Today I was wondering how much trepidation you had has you traveled to Kansas; to this house. Did you wonder what it would look like? Were you wondering what you had gotten yourself into? Did you fear leaving the city to head out to the wild prairie? I am looking around at what is a total mess at this point, and wondering what we have gotten ourselves into. I am not a patient person and I usually want a mess gone five minutes ago. I know this will take time, and someday our little family of six will occupy these walls. I figure if you can come do it at the time you did, than surely I need to give it a try. I think the challenges will make us stronger. I am happy to think that while I am here I can think of what you did each day so many years ago. Truth be told I am happy we are rehabbing this place. It would be sad to see it go empty after all these years. This past Christmas was the first Christmas that no one was here since the house was built. Or did you travel some Christmas? Anyway, it seemed so lonely.
We are busy making it ours like all the generations before us. It will be interesting to see how long it is home for us, and if we will be the last.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Thursday, December 30, 2010
This is Who I am, Mom
Oh, my little girl! I just love her so. Yes, I love her brothers to death too. I just waited so long for my little princess, and she was so worth the wait. I am so fascinated at the differences between her and her rowdy brothers. I love that she knows who she is, and feels no need to change it for anyone. Hold onto that, sweet girl. Here are some of the things I love about Claire - some of which are driving me crazy even as I shake my head in infatuated amazement.
She still refuses to walk. She is 16 months old and just won't do it. She cruises like a pro, can pull up, and is an accomplished climber. She has taken a few steps a couple of times and when she realizes she has done it she falls to the floor as fast as she can lest anyone know she has done it! She loves to "walk", and will take your hands and ask to do it. What she wants is to have her hand held the whole time. When you let go, she slowly sits down as she says "uh oh!!". I always thought "uh oh!" was for a dropped item or an emergency, not a controlled and purposeful decent to the floor.
We got her a ride on toy for Christmas. She calls it her "car", and says "rum rum!" when she wants to go fast. She found out right away that her brother Noah loves to push her fast. She also learned to put her feat out when going around corners so she doesn't fly off due to centrifugal force. The faster the better, and she will even go to Noah and say, "rum rum!!!". That is his cue to give her a ride. She is probably going to want to date a guy with a motorcycle. Sigh.
Her vocabulary grows by leaps and bounds each weak. She blows her brothers away at comparative ages when it comes to language. We try hard to teach her the appropriate names for things and she understands so much of what you say. She loves cats. I only say "cat" to her, not kitty. Mom and day have three farm cats so she sees a cat most days. For the longest time she would only say, "meow" when she saw a cat, and not say the name of the animal. I would just say, "yes, the cat says, meow" each time. So the other day she sees a cat on TV and starts saying, "kitty." Kitty? Really? After all this time of saying cat and only hearing the word "kitty" like twice from dada? I said "cat" and she looked at me and said "kitty", and then laughed.
She says mama and dada all the time. However, when she wants our attention and has something important to say to us, we become mom and dad. "Mom!" she will say to me, waiting for me to look at her. The she will continue to tell me whatever it is she needs me to know.
She calls Papa Tim, "papa ta." She has said "grama" a few times. She knows which brother is which, but refuses to say their names. Our nickname for Silas is "Booger." The other day she started calling him that. If I say "Is that Silas?", she will smile and say, "Booger!" If I yell at Silas when he is upstairs, she will promptly say, "Booger!!"
She loves her cheese!! When she is hungry she will go to the fridge and say, "cheese!!", and do a little cheese dance. I love it. I hope she never stops.
She loves music and loves to dance. She says, "ic! ic! ic!" which is how she says music. She shakes that sweet little head and bops her whole body. It is my favorite thing to watch.
One more thing for now. She refuses to say "chair." She says "down." Because you sit down in a chair. No matter how many times I say "chair", she always says, "down!".
OK, baby girl. You win. You be who you want to be and I will love you more for it. You are smart, beautiful, funny, and caring. I want you to stay little, but I can't wait to see who you are when you grow up.
She still refuses to walk. She is 16 months old and just won't do it. She cruises like a pro, can pull up, and is an accomplished climber. She has taken a few steps a couple of times and when she realizes she has done it she falls to the floor as fast as she can lest anyone know she has done it! She loves to "walk", and will take your hands and ask to do it. What she wants is to have her hand held the whole time. When you let go, she slowly sits down as she says "uh oh!!". I always thought "uh oh!" was for a dropped item or an emergency, not a controlled and purposeful decent to the floor.
We got her a ride on toy for Christmas. She calls it her "car", and says "rum rum!" when she wants to go fast. She found out right away that her brother Noah loves to push her fast. She also learned to put her feat out when going around corners so she doesn't fly off due to centrifugal force. The faster the better, and she will even go to Noah and say, "rum rum!!!". That is his cue to give her a ride. She is probably going to want to date a guy with a motorcycle. Sigh.
Her vocabulary grows by leaps and bounds each weak. She blows her brothers away at comparative ages when it comes to language. We try hard to teach her the appropriate names for things and she understands so much of what you say. She loves cats. I only say "cat" to her, not kitty. Mom and day have three farm cats so she sees a cat most days. For the longest time she would only say, "meow" when she saw a cat, and not say the name of the animal. I would just say, "yes, the cat says, meow" each time. So the other day she sees a cat on TV and starts saying, "kitty." Kitty? Really? After all this time of saying cat and only hearing the word "kitty" like twice from dada? I said "cat" and she looked at me and said "kitty", and then laughed.
She says mama and dada all the time. However, when she wants our attention and has something important to say to us, we become mom and dad. "Mom!" she will say to me, waiting for me to look at her. The she will continue to tell me whatever it is she needs me to know.
She calls Papa Tim, "papa ta." She has said "grama" a few times. She knows which brother is which, but refuses to say their names. Our nickname for Silas is "Booger." The other day she started calling him that. If I say "Is that Silas?", she will smile and say, "Booger!" If I yell at Silas when he is upstairs, she will promptly say, "Booger!!"
She loves her cheese!! When she is hungry she will go to the fridge and say, "cheese!!", and do a little cheese dance. I love it. I hope she never stops.
She loves music and loves to dance. She says, "ic! ic! ic!" which is how she says music. She shakes that sweet little head and bops her whole body. It is my favorite thing to watch.
One more thing for now. She refuses to say "chair." She says "down." Because you sit down in a chair. No matter how many times I say "chair", she always says, "down!".
OK, baby girl. You win. You be who you want to be and I will love you more for it. You are smart, beautiful, funny, and caring. I want you to stay little, but I can't wait to see who you are when you grow up.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
I have decided (on several occasions of late) that I really need to spend less time feeling sorry for myself. It is really easy to get mired down in all that you think is wrong with your life. I know I have a lot to work on and that I shouldn't just decide to be comfortable with my circumstances and never try to better them. However, it never does you any good to pull up an easy chair in the middle of the pit. I am continually convicted that the more time I spend wallowing around in all my woes the less time I can do anything for God that amounts to anything.
So this morning after I got done with my quiet time I was reminded once again of my new goal of "quit looking at the poo and find out what you can do!" Sweet Miss Claire is now 16 months old. She is sharp as a tack. Her verbal skills blow her brother's away at comparative ages. She has been having a language explosion now for about two months. She "talks" to me all the time, complete with pauses, inflection, and gestures. I so wish I could understand more of what she is saying. The scary thing is how much we can understand. She is a mental wonder to me. However.... she refuses to walk. All the boys walked right around their first birthday. I have no experience with a 16 month old crawler/cruiser. She walks if you hold her hands and make her, but as soon as you let go she says, "uh oh!" as she slowly sits down. She is basically refusing to walk even with the physical ability well within her grasp.
This leads to some interesting scenarios I am again unfamiliar with. I noticed yesterday the cutest little pair of pants she has now have worn out knees. And then there are the shoes. Pretty much all of her shoes have these beautifully clean soles. Then you look at the top of the shoes and you see lots of nice dirt and stains. She has an adorable pair of those leather slip on shoes. They are a light purple with light blue trim around the ankles. On the part that covers the top of the foot there is a little golden haired angel face complete with halo and wings. Her poor little cherub-like face is stained with dirt, like she has been living on the streets her whole life. As Claire crawls around she drags the top of her little feet which mars up the top of her cute little shoes.
As much as I want to drag my feet and crawl from exhaustion, it just leads to damaging the good. I am not spectacular, important, or influential in any way. I am not well known. I do, however, have a family, and I can start with that. I have kids to raise and a husband to be a wife for. I can't do them any good if I am stuck in self pity or always weighed down with where I fall short. The boys actually get really mad at me if I say anything negative about myself in their presence. Of course I can't very well teach them that Jesus covers all our wrongs and shortcomings with His death on the cross if I don't accept that for myself.
It's OK to identify where you fall short and want to work on that. Just don't refuse to walk. You'll mess up your pretty shoes.
So this morning after I got done with my quiet time I was reminded once again of my new goal of "quit looking at the poo and find out what you can do!" Sweet Miss Claire is now 16 months old. She is sharp as a tack. Her verbal skills blow her brother's away at comparative ages. She has been having a language explosion now for about two months. She "talks" to me all the time, complete with pauses, inflection, and gestures. I so wish I could understand more of what she is saying. The scary thing is how much we can understand. She is a mental wonder to me. However.... she refuses to walk. All the boys walked right around their first birthday. I have no experience with a 16 month old crawler/cruiser. She walks if you hold her hands and make her, but as soon as you let go she says, "uh oh!" as she slowly sits down. She is basically refusing to walk even with the physical ability well within her grasp.
This leads to some interesting scenarios I am again unfamiliar with. I noticed yesterday the cutest little pair of pants she has now have worn out knees. And then there are the shoes. Pretty much all of her shoes have these beautifully clean soles. Then you look at the top of the shoes and you see lots of nice dirt and stains. She has an adorable pair of those leather slip on shoes. They are a light purple with light blue trim around the ankles. On the part that covers the top of the foot there is a little golden haired angel face complete with halo and wings. Her poor little cherub-like face is stained with dirt, like she has been living on the streets her whole life. As Claire crawls around she drags the top of her little feet which mars up the top of her cute little shoes.
As much as I want to drag my feet and crawl from exhaustion, it just leads to damaging the good. I am not spectacular, important, or influential in any way. I am not well known. I do, however, have a family, and I can start with that. I have kids to raise and a husband to be a wife for. I can't do them any good if I am stuck in self pity or always weighed down with where I fall short. The boys actually get really mad at me if I say anything negative about myself in their presence. Of course I can't very well teach them that Jesus covers all our wrongs and shortcomings with His death on the cross if I don't accept that for myself.
It's OK to identify where you fall short and want to work on that. Just don't refuse to walk. You'll mess up your pretty shoes.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Snot and Defiance Equal True Love
Growing older my not be doing my body any favors, but I have found myself to happier with the direction of my mental processes compared to my younger days. It is really hard to not be too self absorbed in your teens and twenties unless you are quite exceptional. I suppose the American culture leads us to a lot of self importance we don't quite deserve.
As I have hinted in some recent posts I have been having some spiritual conflicts and emotional battles. I am coming to some terms about my relationship with God. I think I have had some faulty perceptions about my role as His child. The Gospel teaches full forgiveness and acceptance through Jesus. I have such a growing love for Him now as I realize what freedom this really offers. I don't have to focus on my failures and shortcomings. I don't have to try to "fix" myself before coming to God.
It is oh so easy to see why Jesus said we need to be like children. I see the metaphor ring true each day. When is it the most obvious? For me it is when the kids are sick, or behaving the worst.
Claire has been really sick this week. She wakes me up at all hours crying, snot smearing her red little face. She pukes on me and then promptly wants to cuddle. She pushes and hits at me in a rage as I try to clean her face of the crusted mucus, but is desperate for me to care for her. She is needy and clingy, but never once questions that I am nothing less than ecstatic to be meeting her every need. She has no care that her loud wailing, snot encrusted hair, and slobber covered face don't get her to her most attractive state. Little does she know that it all actually endears her to me even more. My mommy heart aches at her pain. I would trade places with her in a fraction of a breath if I could.
The boys are all in a state of transition. Silas is becoming less of a little boy, and more of a big boy (to his mama's chagrin). Levi is becoming less of a child each day as he approaches the big ten. Noah, well Noah is caught up in the middle. We clash a lot these days. I am none too happy about it and am in a desperate fight to work it all out. We are a lot alike in many ways. He craves love and acceptance but is having trouble with the whole authority and respect thing. In the midst of any big battle between he and I, I sense that he would still just rather crawl on to my lap. He isn't quite sure what to do with the little boy trapped in a body that wants to be a man before its time. I am the safe one for him to push the line with. I just hope I stay strong for as long as he feels the need to push, and that he still wants to come sit on my lap when it's all over.
I am so thankful that after I push all the limits with God, and rebel against the lines that are there to keep me safe, there will always be a place in His lap for me.
As I have hinted in some recent posts I have been having some spiritual conflicts and emotional battles. I am coming to some terms about my relationship with God. I think I have had some faulty perceptions about my role as His child. The Gospel teaches full forgiveness and acceptance through Jesus. I have such a growing love for Him now as I realize what freedom this really offers. I don't have to focus on my failures and shortcomings. I don't have to try to "fix" myself before coming to God.
It is oh so easy to see why Jesus said we need to be like children. I see the metaphor ring true each day. When is it the most obvious? For me it is when the kids are sick, or behaving the worst.
Claire has been really sick this week. She wakes me up at all hours crying, snot smearing her red little face. She pukes on me and then promptly wants to cuddle. She pushes and hits at me in a rage as I try to clean her face of the crusted mucus, but is desperate for me to care for her. She is needy and clingy, but never once questions that I am nothing less than ecstatic to be meeting her every need. She has no care that her loud wailing, snot encrusted hair, and slobber covered face don't get her to her most attractive state. Little does she know that it all actually endears her to me even more. My mommy heart aches at her pain. I would trade places with her in a fraction of a breath if I could.
The boys are all in a state of transition. Silas is becoming less of a little boy, and more of a big boy (to his mama's chagrin). Levi is becoming less of a child each day as he approaches the big ten. Noah, well Noah is caught up in the middle. We clash a lot these days. I am none too happy about it and am in a desperate fight to work it all out. We are a lot alike in many ways. He craves love and acceptance but is having trouble with the whole authority and respect thing. In the midst of any big battle between he and I, I sense that he would still just rather crawl on to my lap. He isn't quite sure what to do with the little boy trapped in a body that wants to be a man before its time. I am the safe one for him to push the line with. I just hope I stay strong for as long as he feels the need to push, and that he still wants to come sit on my lap when it's all over.
I am so thankful that after I push all the limits with God, and rebel against the lines that are there to keep me safe, there will always be a place in His lap for me.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Cash in the Atic? No, bras in the walls.
We were again marveling at the numbers of flooring layers - four this time. We also found the pile of used of razors in the wall that were used by my grandpa. After much hammering, sawing, banging, cutting, kicking, and general loud and dirty chaos, we made the bathroom as it was disappear.
Now the best find of the day is arguable. One treasure we found was a completely dehydrated, but intact, mouse. It's dried up little body was a fraction of it's living weight, but looked as if it had just fallen asleep - and then lost it's hair. The boys want to sell it online. The second awesome find was pulled out of the wall. There is a joint in the siding where the old kitchen Frank built meets the dining room area built much later. Keeping with the "fix it quick and cheep" theme of the house, old "rags" were stuffed in the gap at some point. Levi and Noah were too curious to leave them be, so they started pulling them out. And what did we find? Bras. Seven to be exact. There were also a couple of pairs of undies. Quite old undies and bras. I can only imagine the scenario that led to those items of clothing being stuffed in the wall. And now, years later they offered us some very much needed comic relief. Good thing grandma will never know we found them...
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Dear Lizzie... (6)
Dear Lizzie,
How often did you miss your family and friends back in Illinois? Once you moved to Kansas I am sure travel wasn't much of an option. Did you long for the places you grew up while at the same time learning to love the wide open prairie? You were so impressed with the lack of trees when you arrived here you wrote of it in your journal. I wonder how different it was for you here than the places of your youth.
My family and I just completed a 1500 mile round trip journey in less than a week. That includes staying at our destination for four full days. Travel time was a mere 24 hours total. I am sure this would have been such a marvel to you that it would take me quite some time to explain it to you. How often would you have gone back to the ones you loved and missed if you could have traveled in such a fashion?
As I said goodbye again to my friends last week I held onto hope that I will see them again soon. I feel sad for you that you didn't have that option. It seems like life could have been quite lonely out here on the plains.
I am glad now that you are surely reunited with most of those that you missed in life.
Yours Truly,
Charity
How often did you miss your family and friends back in Illinois? Once you moved to Kansas I am sure travel wasn't much of an option. Did you long for the places you grew up while at the same time learning to love the wide open prairie? You were so impressed with the lack of trees when you arrived here you wrote of it in your journal. I wonder how different it was for you here than the places of your youth.
My family and I just completed a 1500 mile round trip journey in less than a week. That includes staying at our destination for four full days. Travel time was a mere 24 hours total. I am sure this would have been such a marvel to you that it would take me quite some time to explain it to you. How often would you have gone back to the ones you loved and missed if you could have traveled in such a fashion?
As I said goodbye again to my friends last week I held onto hope that I will see them again soon. I feel sad for you that you didn't have that option. It seems like life could have been quite lonely out here on the plains.
I am glad now that you are surely reunited with most of those that you missed in life.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Last week we went back to Nashville. It was exactly what my soul needed. We left in the wee hours of the morning and rolled in the evening of the 30th. We were lucky enough to get to stay with friends the whole time. Chris had a CT Wednesday morning and then a doctor appointment on Thursday. We are praising God that the CT was clear and that we are off the hook for three more months.
Seven months melted into what seemed like mere days as the familiar terrain of Tennessee sprawled before us. I can still picture in my mind the view as we drove out, back in May. I felt a stirring in my soul that I had not anticipated. If my Midwestern roots were not as strong as they are then I would surely go running back to the southeast. Even just my short five years there fostered a love for the place and the people. Seven months is a long time to go without being called "baby" or "honey!" It was such a sweet surprise to feel like we were coming home. Not many people get to feel that way about more than one place in the world.
Seeing my wonderful friends face to face was invaluable. I miss them so much. Hugs, dinners, precious conversation, and full acceptance. We got to spend a morning at our old home church too. It was a strong dose of medicine that did me a lot of good. I am frustrated it took me a whole seven months before I came back to see these magnificent folks!
We were fed, housed, and loved, and had a complete blast. I wish we had had more time to do and see more. It was hard to remember we have been gone for severeal months. It was so easy to slip back into conversation and my eyes never skipped a beat that they were taking in scenery they hadn't seen in over half of a year. It solidified in my head that this place had truly become a home and the people a family over the last two years we lived there.
How do you live in two places? Chris' answer is to be rich. Sure. While physically I can't be in two places, my mind is nearly always divided. I don't know how much longer it will be that way for me. I learned a long time ago not to try too hard to see the future.
For now I will be thankful God allowed us a great week to catch up in person. I am thankful, too, that we have several reasons to go back. Maybe sooner than I think. I have no doubt we are where we are supposed to be for now. It doesn't make me stop the missing part, but I don't want to sop missing. That would mean that I had stopped caring.
Seven months melted into what seemed like mere days as the familiar terrain of Tennessee sprawled before us. I can still picture in my mind the view as we drove out, back in May. I felt a stirring in my soul that I had not anticipated. If my Midwestern roots were not as strong as they are then I would surely go running back to the southeast. Even just my short five years there fostered a love for the place and the people. Seven months is a long time to go without being called "baby" or "honey!" It was such a sweet surprise to feel like we were coming home. Not many people get to feel that way about more than one place in the world.
Seeing my wonderful friends face to face was invaluable. I miss them so much. Hugs, dinners, precious conversation, and full acceptance. We got to spend a morning at our old home church too. It was a strong dose of medicine that did me a lot of good. I am frustrated it took me a whole seven months before I came back to see these magnificent folks!
We were fed, housed, and loved, and had a complete blast. I wish we had had more time to do and see more. It was hard to remember we have been gone for severeal months. It was so easy to slip back into conversation and my eyes never skipped a beat that they were taking in scenery they hadn't seen in over half of a year. It solidified in my head that this place had truly become a home and the people a family over the last two years we lived there.
How do you live in two places? Chris' answer is to be rich. Sure. While physically I can't be in two places, my mind is nearly always divided. I don't know how much longer it will be that way for me. I learned a long time ago not to try too hard to see the future.
For now I will be thankful God allowed us a great week to catch up in person. I am thankful, too, that we have several reasons to go back. Maybe sooner than I think. I have no doubt we are where we are supposed to be for now. It doesn't make me stop the missing part, but I don't want to sop missing. That would mean that I had stopped caring.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thankful for...... Suckage
I have to get this out before someday I am threatened to change my mind.
I have a good friend. She is afflicted with more physical ailments than any one person should have. We have both agreed that we don't like the word, "suck", but at times it just seems no other word is appropriate. Whenever one of us is having a particularly hard time we seem to break out that word.
A few weeks back I was having a really hard time emotionally and spiritually. My good friend said there was a lot of "suckage" going on. A little word she coined just for me. Now we use that when there is a goodly quantity of rough stuff going on for one of us.
I love my friends. They are so amazing. I am thankful for people I can be frank with and they won't then run away. It is a relief to not have to deal with tough situations totally on your own.
That leads to me saying that I would crumble in upon myself if it weren't for God in the hard times. We are guaranteed difficulty in life, people will always fail us, and circumstances are always changing. God is my only constant, and the only good thing I really have going for me. As another wonderful friend of mine said one day, "Without Jesus, you don't want to know me."
I don't enjoy hard times. I don't like struggles. I hate feeling frustrated, awkward, or nervous. My time spent worrying about anything is always a waste.
But right now, today, I can say I am thankful for what is difficult - in that it draws me closer to God. My broken heart seeks the one and only thing that can mend it. It hasn't always been this way for me. I am doing better but have a long way to go. If I was perfect and whole I would be spending too much time patting my back instead of falling to my knees.
Suckage hurts. I am so ready for the day it never exists again. But in the mean time, while we can all be thankful for what is great in our lives, I will try to be thankful for what is hard. For these circumstances given to me with planned precision, so that I can be one step closer to heaven.
I have a good friend. She is afflicted with more physical ailments than any one person should have. We have both agreed that we don't like the word, "suck", but at times it just seems no other word is appropriate. Whenever one of us is having a particularly hard time we seem to break out that word.
A few weeks back I was having a really hard time emotionally and spiritually. My good friend said there was a lot of "suckage" going on. A little word she coined just for me. Now we use that when there is a goodly quantity of rough stuff going on for one of us.
I love my friends. They are so amazing. I am thankful for people I can be frank with and they won't then run away. It is a relief to not have to deal with tough situations totally on your own.
That leads to me saying that I would crumble in upon myself if it weren't for God in the hard times. We are guaranteed difficulty in life, people will always fail us, and circumstances are always changing. God is my only constant, and the only good thing I really have going for me. As another wonderful friend of mine said one day, "Without Jesus, you don't want to know me."
I don't enjoy hard times. I don't like struggles. I hate feeling frustrated, awkward, or nervous. My time spent worrying about anything is always a waste.
But right now, today, I can say I am thankful for what is difficult - in that it draws me closer to God. My broken heart seeks the one and only thing that can mend it. It hasn't always been this way for me. I am doing better but have a long way to go. If I was perfect and whole I would be spending too much time patting my back instead of falling to my knees.
Suckage hurts. I am so ready for the day it never exists again. But in the mean time, while we can all be thankful for what is great in our lives, I will try to be thankful for what is hard. For these circumstances given to me with planned precision, so that I can be one step closer to heaven.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Dear Lizzie... (5)
Dear Lizzie,
How did you comfort your kids when they were in pain? A scraped knee. The loss of a loved one. The death of a pet or beloved farm animal.
Today we lost our dog we have had for eight years. It was really hard on the boys because they have never lost a dog. In fact, before this summer they had never lost a pet. Two of their geckos died at the beginning of the summer. Have you heard of geckos?
Anyway, it was hear wrenching to see their pain. So much anguish from all three of them at the same time. I can only imagine how much harder life was for you growing up, and then later as a mother in the late 1800's. I am sure tough experiences were a way of life.
And Allan. How did you ever handle that? I can't imagine your burden as mother to deal with the loss, comfort your other children, and then give birth just a few days later. Bless your heart.
I would love to exchange notes with you on some of these issues. Tonight we just got the kids some pizza, made them root beer floats, and let them watch a movie. I'll explain later.
Yours Truly,
Charity
How did you comfort your kids when they were in pain? A scraped knee. The loss of a loved one. The death of a pet or beloved farm animal.
Today we lost our dog we have had for eight years. It was really hard on the boys because they have never lost a dog. In fact, before this summer they had never lost a pet. Two of their geckos died at the beginning of the summer. Have you heard of geckos?
Anyway, it was hear wrenching to see their pain. So much anguish from all three of them at the same time. I can only imagine how much harder life was for you growing up, and then later as a mother in the late 1800's. I am sure tough experiences were a way of life.
And Allan. How did you ever handle that? I can't imagine your burden as mother to deal with the loss, comfort your other children, and then give birth just a few days later. Bless your heart.
I would love to exchange notes with you on some of these issues. Tonight we just got the kids some pizza, made them root beer floats, and let them watch a movie. I'll explain later.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Wow. What a week. One grandmother fell and broke her hip, made it through surgery, and now is in rehab. She became very confused and it was a hard thing to see. She is slowly on the mend, but at 94 years of age mending does not come easily. Today is her birthday. I wish so much she could have celebrated at home. My other grandma got herself a trip to the ICU due to some chest pain and nearly passing out at work. One heart cath later and two days in the hospital have her home as well. She will continue to medically manage the small blockages she has. She just has to remember to take her meds and take them correctly. Yesterday Chris and I had our feelings hurt by someone, and Chris is having a hard time recovering. I miss my friends in Tennessee so much, because, well, they wouldn't do anything like that. I ache for his pain, and am frustrated that we don't have the answers it seems we need to do anything about the situation. And today. Today our little dog of 8 years ran in front of a truck and went the way of all the earth. The boys were there and saw it, and I was the one who had to squat next to his damaged little body till he breathed his last. I really don't want to go into the whole story, but as I type this my eyes still burn from the tears. A lot of tears for him, but just as many for the sweet little hearts that broke today. The boys have never lost a dog. They are torn and broken now. Silas said, "I just can't breathe with a broken heart!"
As we held hands in a circle around Toby's grave today the tears took over when I saw the raw pain on the children's faces. It is hard to see them so fragile and vulnerable.
RIP, little guy. Thanks for being our watchdog, protector, and friend. We are grateful for your loyalty.
As we held hands in a circle around Toby's grave today the tears took over when I saw the raw pain on the children's faces. It is hard to see them so fragile and vulnerable.
RIP, little guy. Thanks for being our watchdog, protector, and friend. We are grateful for your loyalty.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Dear Lizzie... (4)
Dear Lizzie,
So, I bought a pound of butter at the store yesterday. Only spent $1.66 for it. I have no idea what that would be for you in your day, but by today's standards it isn't much. I was thinking about how much work it would take you to make a pound of butter. Also about how hard it would be to keep it fresh.
There is this lady on the Food Network (um... that would take way to long to explain). She really likes her butter. Being southern and all I don't think they can eat anything without butter. I can only imagine you would have been a rich woman if you had needed to supply her with butter. I know you took it to town and sold it. Too bad she didn't live as a neighbor to you. It would have saved you a trip to town. ;oD
Yours Truly,
Charity
So, I bought a pound of butter at the store yesterday. Only spent $1.66 for it. I have no idea what that would be for you in your day, but by today's standards it isn't much. I was thinking about how much work it would take you to make a pound of butter. Also about how hard it would be to keep it fresh.
There is this lady on the Food Network (um... that would take way to long to explain). She really likes her butter. Being southern and all I don't think they can eat anything without butter. I can only imagine you would have been a rich woman if you had needed to supply her with butter. I know you took it to town and sold it. Too bad she didn't live as a neighbor to you. It would have saved you a trip to town. ;oD
Yours Truly,
Charity
Monday, November 8, 2010
Keepin' It Real, Even With New Shoes
Mama. Mom. Mommy. Mother. And a host of other names and terms applying to this job of raising offspring or other small creatures that have come into your care. It is a great way to keep you humble. Even, when you have new shoes.
Example: the start to my day today, this glorious Monday.
The time change yesterday has set off a cascade of odd wake up times and confusion about when we are tired enough for a nap. Miss C was up at five yesterday, which was really six, which felt like three or four to me. Sigh. She fell asleep on the way to church which made her too cranky for the nursery - so I got to sit in the hall and listen via monitor.
Today, Monday, she gets up at four, which used to be five, which is always earlier than I would like. She wanted "mulk!!", so I nursed her as requested. It was a ploy to get her to go back to sleep so in turn I could try to sleep some more. Nope. The warm little body next to me tosses and turns, dozes, changes position, its little hand slaps my face, then dozes again. In desperation I try to ignore this and go back to sleep. By the time I am finally back to the on-ramp for Slumber Land, I hear, "Ah!! Bleeewwwww ah!!!!!!!!" She is now messing with Chris' face. I realize I have to pee. We are up. I stumble downstairs and plop her on the bathroom floor so "mommy can go pee pee." She watches intently, but refrains from taking notes. Then we mosey out to the living room and I try to get my fuzzy brain to tell me what I can do to be productive. I notice I look nice and frumpy in my pajamas, and try to ignore it. I set about with laundry and putting things in a general order. Chris, half asleep, finds his way downstairs to "help" me. After Claire's bath he sits with her as I do a few more things and then make breakfast for my other early riser, Mr Si. After I get him set up with food, I decide to go jog. I leave Claire with Chris, who is armed with the remote. He is hoping something animated and colorful will pacify his tired daughter into sitting on his lap, and subsequently be lulled to sleep.
I make a break, I'm out the door!! A whole run with just me, the music, and the great outdoors. I'm feeling good. I come back in, shower, get dressed, and put on my new shoes. I don't buy much for myself. We don't have a lot of money and I usually need to buy stuff for the kids. New shoes are a treat for me, even if I just need new work out shoes. So when I went this weekend to get new work out shoes, I saw another pair I really wanted. Simple, really, but I just liked them right away. Casual, not to be fancy, but fit for comfort. Black, and a gray Tweed. Not traditional laces, but silver-gray ribbons. I splurged and got them. I felt guilty for a bit, just for good measure. I wore them yesterday for the first time. I like those shoes!! As I put them on this morning I think again about how much I like them. It's the same ol' me, but I'm walkin' in new shoes today!! Spring in my step, head held high, I get school started with the kids. It brings the usual challenges, and it isn't long before someone needs discipline. Claire is now screaming from sheer exhaustion, and I am trying to get the boys focused, while Silas is a whirlwind of loud activity around the room. Claire crawls over my feet, untying one of my fancy ribbons. I pick her up. She is red in the face, has snot in her nose, and has tears of frustration on her precious face. As I am rocking her to sleep, Silas comes up to me.
"Mooooomm!!!", he whispers.
"What?"
"Will it wake up Claire if I go poop?"
Sigh.
"No honey, you go ahead."
"OK!!"
Off he goes with a smile.
I still like my shoes. They don't make life any more glamorous, or me for that matter. But I suppose it is better to just keep things real.
Example: the start to my day today, this glorious Monday.
The time change yesterday has set off a cascade of odd wake up times and confusion about when we are tired enough for a nap. Miss C was up at five yesterday, which was really six, which felt like three or four to me. Sigh. She fell asleep on the way to church which made her too cranky for the nursery - so I got to sit in the hall and listen via monitor.
Today, Monday, she gets up at four, which used to be five, which is always earlier than I would like. She wanted "mulk!!", so I nursed her as requested. It was a ploy to get her to go back to sleep so in turn I could try to sleep some more. Nope. The warm little body next to me tosses and turns, dozes, changes position, its little hand slaps my face, then dozes again. In desperation I try to ignore this and go back to sleep. By the time I am finally back to the on-ramp for Slumber Land, I hear, "Ah!! Bleeewwwww ah!!!!!!!!" She is now messing with Chris' face. I realize I have to pee. We are up. I stumble downstairs and plop her on the bathroom floor so "mommy can go pee pee." She watches intently, but refrains from taking notes. Then we mosey out to the living room and I try to get my fuzzy brain to tell me what I can do to be productive. I notice I look nice and frumpy in my pajamas, and try to ignore it. I set about with laundry and putting things in a general order. Chris, half asleep, finds his way downstairs to "help" me. After Claire's bath he sits with her as I do a few more things and then make breakfast for my other early riser, Mr Si. After I get him set up with food, I decide to go jog. I leave Claire with Chris, who is armed with the remote. He is hoping something animated and colorful will pacify his tired daughter into sitting on his lap, and subsequently be lulled to sleep.
I make a break, I'm out the door!! A whole run with just me, the music, and the great outdoors. I'm feeling good. I come back in, shower, get dressed, and put on my new shoes. I don't buy much for myself. We don't have a lot of money and I usually need to buy stuff for the kids. New shoes are a treat for me, even if I just need new work out shoes. So when I went this weekend to get new work out shoes, I saw another pair I really wanted. Simple, really, but I just liked them right away. Casual, not to be fancy, but fit for comfort. Black, and a gray Tweed. Not traditional laces, but silver-gray ribbons. I splurged and got them. I felt guilty for a bit, just for good measure. I wore them yesterday for the first time. I like those shoes!! As I put them on this morning I think again about how much I like them. It's the same ol' me, but I'm walkin' in new shoes today!! Spring in my step, head held high, I get school started with the kids. It brings the usual challenges, and it isn't long before someone needs discipline. Claire is now screaming from sheer exhaustion, and I am trying to get the boys focused, while Silas is a whirlwind of loud activity around the room. Claire crawls over my feet, untying one of my fancy ribbons. I pick her up. She is red in the face, has snot in her nose, and has tears of frustration on her precious face. As I am rocking her to sleep, Silas comes up to me.
"Mooooomm!!!", he whispers.
"What?"
"Will it wake up Claire if I go poop?"
Sigh.
"No honey, you go ahead."
"OK!!"
Off he goes with a smile.
I still like my shoes. They don't make life any more glamorous, or me for that matter. But I suppose it is better to just keep things real.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Dear Lizzie... (3)
Dear Lizzie,
What ever did you do without technology? Well, the technology that I have available to me now that spoils me. I am having a bit of a rough time right now, and most of my best friends are at least 12 hours away from me. I can still speak to them though - by a device called a phone. Can you imagine that? I also send my letters in seconds. I can get a response in less than a day too. It helps and it is a comfort. Good friends are such a treasure. I am so thankful God has allowed me to live in a time when I can keep in touch from hundreds of miles away. I can't imagine what it was like for you to leave friends and family, and never know if you would ever see or talk to them again. Or when Frank was searching for your new home you had to wait days, or maybe weeks, to communicate with him. Did you worry about him often? Did the suspense become too much at times? Better you than me, Lizzie, I think. You seem to have been much more patient than I.
Yours Truly,
Charity
What ever did you do without technology? Well, the technology that I have available to me now that spoils me. I am having a bit of a rough time right now, and most of my best friends are at least 12 hours away from me. I can still speak to them though - by a device called a phone. Can you imagine that? I also send my letters in seconds. I can get a response in less than a day too. It helps and it is a comfort. Good friends are such a treasure. I am so thankful God has allowed me to live in a time when I can keep in touch from hundreds of miles away. I can't imagine what it was like for you to leave friends and family, and never know if you would ever see or talk to them again. Or when Frank was searching for your new home you had to wait days, or maybe weeks, to communicate with him. Did you worry about him often? Did the suspense become too much at times? Better you than me, Lizzie, I think. You seem to have been much more patient than I.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Dear Lord,
Show me if I am whining about being brought out of Egypt. Am I crying about the manna in the desert? Tell me if I am jonesing for a king other than you. Do I call out to you while the silver idol sits in the shrine with the wishy washy, hungry priest? When my heart is breaking, call it to you. When you are my portion it is enough. Help me smash the crown of self-importance I have placed on my head, but don't let me succumb to the burden I have strapped to my back. I can't see the way right now, but I know you are my path. "Here's my heart Lord, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above."
Show me if I am whining about being brought out of Egypt. Am I crying about the manna in the desert? Tell me if I am jonesing for a king other than you. Do I call out to you while the silver idol sits in the shrine with the wishy washy, hungry priest? When my heart is breaking, call it to you. When you are my portion it is enough. Help me smash the crown of self-importance I have placed on my head, but don't let me succumb to the burden I have strapped to my back. I can't see the way right now, but I know you are my path. "Here's my heart Lord, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above."
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Dear Lizzie... (2)
Dear Lizzie,
Today I walked State Street in Augusta with my family. My four little trick-or-treaters all dressed up, accepting the free candy with glee. I had a Continental soldier, a John Deere Tractor, a Pirate, and a giraffe with me. I know you don't know what a tractor is. I suppose you have heard many stories of the Revolution, but it is a distant memory and the Civil War stories are more common. Have you heard of pirates? Surely you have. I have one scurvy dog with me, I tell you! I am going to bet you have read of giraffes in books. We have had the privilege of seeing many in zoos; even getting to feed several.
I bet Frank would have scratched his head to see the kids decked out in strange costumes parading up and down a street he knew so well. I suppose with your sturdy, but conservative, Christian background, you would have seen no good in it. I assure you for us it is all in good fun. The kids put a lot of time, effort, and creativity into their costumes this year.
It was interesting to imagine the Augusta you knew and compare it to the one I know. The old buildings downtown bring a smile to my face. I like to see the history preserved.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Today I walked State Street in Augusta with my family. My four little trick-or-treaters all dressed up, accepting the free candy with glee. I had a Continental soldier, a John Deere Tractor, a Pirate, and a giraffe with me. I know you don't know what a tractor is. I suppose you have heard many stories of the Revolution, but it is a distant memory and the Civil War stories are more common. Have you heard of pirates? Surely you have. I have one scurvy dog with me, I tell you! I am going to bet you have read of giraffes in books. We have had the privilege of seeing many in zoos; even getting to feed several.
I bet Frank would have scratched his head to see the kids decked out in strange costumes parading up and down a street he knew so well. I suppose with your sturdy, but conservative, Christian background, you would have seen no good in it. I assure you for us it is all in good fun. The kids put a lot of time, effort, and creativity into their costumes this year.
It was interesting to imagine the Augusta you knew and compare it to the one I know. The old buildings downtown bring a smile to my face. I like to see the history preserved.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Friday, October 29, 2010
A Jumble About the Season Change
Green and soft.
Turn around, brown crunch.
Early warm and light.
More night and a hard start to the day.
Wander, meander, free to loose a plan.
Schedules, rush; two days to slow down.
Explosion of life, noise; gorgeous view.
Cold night, gray hue; sleep beckons.
The coldest, the darkest, before the dawn.
Wind down, slow down, heading towards rest.
Out of the dark time, newness renewed.
The light will come again.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
The storm has passed through for the time being. I have felt lighter that last couple of days. That usually happens to me. If I kind of touch the bottom with my toe it is enough to send me back up for air for awhile. I think there is a lot of dying to self that I need to do. I started a bit of that over the last two days, but boy is it hard. It is good for me to not assume that all of the problem lies in things or people other than myself. I need to take those planks from my eyes to stoke the fire of change. Funny how I thought the tests in nursing school were hard! I am pretty much guaranteed to fall and fail at all this. But I am learning. It is all any of us can do.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Dear Lizzie...
Dear Lizzie,
I am sitting in your house again today. I think of you almost every time I am here. I really wish I could have met you. When I am here I often wonder what you would think of what I am doing. I wonder if you would approve, disapprove, or just be confused.
I know I have a bit of your blood in my veins. I am fascinated by your life, and am thankful that I know as much as I do about it. I appreciate the hard work you did for your family, the love and devotion you had for your friends and church, and that you were honest. I take great solace knowing that God was your foundation and focus.
I think you set the bar quite high. I have a lot of work in my life to get to where I would not be embarrassed to show it to you. Knowing I will soon occupy your space makes me want to be a better person.
I wish I could ask you about your struggles as a mom, wife, Christian, and survivor. It would be so great to hear your answers. I suppose I can deduce some of the answers from the snatches of journal we have. For the rest, I will just have to wait till the someday we meet up.
Yours Truly,
Charity
I am sitting in your house again today. I think of you almost every time I am here. I really wish I could have met you. When I am here I often wonder what you would think of what I am doing. I wonder if you would approve, disapprove, or just be confused.
I know I have a bit of your blood in my veins. I am fascinated by your life, and am thankful that I know as much as I do about it. I appreciate the hard work you did for your family, the love and devotion you had for your friends and church, and that you were honest. I take great solace knowing that God was your foundation and focus.
I think you set the bar quite high. I have a lot of work in my life to get to where I would not be embarrassed to show it to you. Knowing I will soon occupy your space makes me want to be a better person.
I wish I could ask you about your struggles as a mom, wife, Christian, and survivor. It would be so great to hear your answers. I suppose I can deduce some of the answers from the snatches of journal we have. For the rest, I will just have to wait till the someday we meet up.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Psalm 38
O LORD, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. For your arrows have pierced me, and your hand has come down upon me. Because of your wrath there is no health in my body; my bones have no soundness because of my sin. My guilt has overwhelmed me like a burden too heavy to bear. My wounds fester and are loathsome because of my sinful folly. I am bowed down and brought very low; all day long I go about mourning. My back is filled with searing pain; there is no health in my body. I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart. All my longings lie open before you , O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you. My heart pounds, my strength fails me; even the light has gone from my eyes. My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds; my neighbors stay far away. Those who seek my life set their traps, those who would harm me talk of my ruin; all day long they plot deception. I am like a deaf man, who cannot hear, like a mute, who cannot open his mouth; I have become like a man who does not hear, whose mouth can offer no reply. I wait for you, O LORD; you will answer, O Lord my God. For I said, "Do not let them gloat or exalt themselves over me when my foot slips." For I am about to fall, and my pain is ever with me. I confess my iniquity; I am troubled by my sin. Many are those who are my vigorous enemies; those who hate me without reason are numerous. Those who repay my good with evil slander me when I pursue what is good. O LORD, do not forsake me; be not far from me, O my God. Come quickly to help me, O Lord my Savior.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
6 Again the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord...And because the Israelites forsook the LORD and no longer served Him, 7 He became angry with them...
11 The LORD replied, "When the Egyptians, the Amorites, the Ammonites, the Philistines, 12 the Sidonians, the Amalekites and the Maonites oppressed you and you cried to me for help, did I not save you from their hands? 13 But you have forsaken me and served other gods, so I will no longer save you. 14Go and cry out to the gods you have chosen. Let them save you when you are in trouble!" 15 But the Israelites said to the LORD, "We have sinned. Do with us whatever you think best, but please rescue us now." 16 Then they got rid of the foreign gods among them and served the LORD. And He could bear Israel's misery no longer.
Selected verses from Judges chapter 10
I read this chapter to the boys this week. We are reading through Judges. Let me tell you the hope this inspired within me. As I keep feeling like I am tripping up and landing flat on my face these days, it is easy to feel like there is much more fail than pass, let alone win. As I make plans to do better, it is one step forward, trip, fall down the hill, and land flat on face.
I could just hear the exasperated frustration in God's tone as He told Israel to go to the gods they had been serving. He didn't really mean for them to go to other gods, but it is the picture of God the Father having had it up to His all-seeing eyeballs with His delinquent kids.
"Again, Israel did evil in the sight of the LORD..." How many times is this in the Bible? How many times is this in my life? I will admit I am getting a bit caught up in my failures and frustrations right now, but this passage almost made me cry at the hope and love it exudes. God, having had His face slapped for the millionth time, turned it once again towards His love to save them. He couldn't bear their pain anymore.
This is the God I serve. He loves me enough to throw me curve balls so I will keep running to Him. He loves me enough to not let me get away with being a mess. He loves me enough to turn His face back to me when I hurt Him. He loves me enough to address my pain.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Today I am not sure what is more tired: my eyes, my mind, or my spirit. A couple of weeks of little sleep mixed with difficult situations and tests. I have even wrestled with this blog. Coming near to just deleting it. Worried it isn't "entertaining" enough, or even worth the effort. Then I remembered it really is just for me anyway - my free therapy. So I am back to what I should have been doing all along anyway.
I am staring at my recent losses. Not that I lost any sort of thing per se, but more like lost battles and contests. My will is standing toe to toe with the will of one of my offspring as of late and I am about undone by it. I have resolved to do a few things to be better organized and responsible, and then am promptly sabotaged by circumstances. Can't win for losing, but must not quit learning for losing. There is the struggle. I have full faith God is sorting out this mess and I am sure is setting some of it up for me so I have no choice but to learn and grow. I want to whine and take a nap, honestly. I am too tired to work on this stuff. But here it is in print now, convicting my eyeballs. Plodding along one weary step at a time, tapping out the letters that tell the sentences of my life, worshiping the God who presides over my weakness.
I am staring at my recent losses. Not that I lost any sort of thing per se, but more like lost battles and contests. My will is standing toe to toe with the will of one of my offspring as of late and I am about undone by it. I have resolved to do a few things to be better organized and responsible, and then am promptly sabotaged by circumstances. Can't win for losing, but must not quit learning for losing. There is the struggle. I have full faith God is sorting out this mess and I am sure is setting some of it up for me so I have no choice but to learn and grow. I want to whine and take a nap, honestly. I am too tired to work on this stuff. But here it is in print now, convicting my eyeballs. Plodding along one weary step at a time, tapping out the letters that tell the sentences of my life, worshiping the God who presides over my weakness.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I've got a dark cloud hanging around as of late. It is really annoying. I have been bearing its weight stubbornly but my knees are starting to buckle. Things are changing again. We are back from vacation and back to "real" life. I started the process that will ultimately have me back to working outside the home. We need to start in earnest the things that will get us into our own house. The holidays are lurking around the corner. These things swirl in my mind as we are less than two months from Chris' next CT scan. I read recently in a devotional about how we are occasionally removed from things so we will be drawn more to God. Admittedly, without my beloved friends who are now hours away, I am finding my "bring it on" attitude is exploring its softer side. While I actually look forward to being more forcibly directed into God's arms, I cringe a bit at what it might mean I will have to deal with in the future.
I can tell how hard headed I am as this headache pounds against its sturdy prison. More things to learn and relearn. Necessity is the razor that is able to split need and want. I just need to wield it with steady hands.
I can tell how hard headed I am as this headache pounds against its sturdy prison. More things to learn and relearn. Necessity is the razor that is able to split need and want. I just need to wield it with steady hands.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Sad Happy
I had a "sad happy" moment today. I don't know if that term exists already or not, but I coined it for myself just a couple of days ago. A friend I can no longer see in person told me they missed me and it simultaneously made my day and saddened me. There are too many people I still miss deeply after the move. I probably will miss some of those dear folks for the rest of my life.
Anyway, today we went to see Grandma at her apartment. It had been too long since we had been there. We have seen her other places several times but only for shorter visits. Grandma is so in love with her great-grandchildren. If you didn't know she had a whole herd of them and only heard her speak of one at a time, you would think that child the most amazing child to have ever been birthed. While she is still quite thrilled with my male offspring, sweet little Claire has quite stolen her heart. She usually wants Claire to sit on her lap to play so she can get in some great cuddle time. Claire has become quite taken herself with Great-grandma Anna, so she usually enjoys the time. Grandma had set out the two dolls she has for Claire to play with. Claire had these as well as a couple of her own we brought and was having a grand old time talking to the dolls as well as the real people in the room. Being 14 months old we don't always understand Claire, even when she is quite earnest in what she is saying. It didn't stop the fun though. At one point Claire pulled off one of grandma's clip on ear ring. She then held it up to her own ear trying to see how it might adhere. It was adorable. Grandma got quite a kick out of the whole thing. Grandma then showed her a photo frame that had a picture of her and grandpa. It was for their 50th wedding anniversary. The frame had a wind up music box on the back. Claire loves music and was thoroughly delighted when grandma wound it up and the delicate melody chimed out. She smiled and did her little Claire dance. Each time the music would fade grandma would wind it up again. It didn't take long before Claire was trying to wind it herself, her keen eyes not missing what was being done to bring the music back.
I sat and stared at the interaction. At that point it was just the two of them and the music as far as they were concerned. Ages apart, worlds apart, but so totally content and in love. One is 93, one just barley over a year old. I was sad to think of grandma's youth, now gone. I was almost a bit overwhelmed to think how much life is between the stages of those two women. I am caught somewhere in the middle. Not wanting to go back so far as Claire, unsettled with where I am now, and not ready for what grandma is going through. Unconcerned, oblivious really, to my thoughts, however, the two of them sat in happy bliss. Just to enjoy each others company was all that was needed. It warmed my heart to see it. It saddened me to know how brief a snapshot in time it really was.
Sad Happy. I think ultimately it is good for the heart.
Anyway, today we went to see Grandma at her apartment. It had been too long since we had been there. We have seen her other places several times but only for shorter visits. Grandma is so in love with her great-grandchildren. If you didn't know she had a whole herd of them and only heard her speak of one at a time, you would think that child the most amazing child to have ever been birthed. While she is still quite thrilled with my male offspring, sweet little Claire has quite stolen her heart. She usually wants Claire to sit on her lap to play so she can get in some great cuddle time. Claire has become quite taken herself with Great-grandma Anna, so she usually enjoys the time. Grandma had set out the two dolls she has for Claire to play with. Claire had these as well as a couple of her own we brought and was having a grand old time talking to the dolls as well as the real people in the room. Being 14 months old we don't always understand Claire, even when she is quite earnest in what she is saying. It didn't stop the fun though. At one point Claire pulled off one of grandma's clip on ear ring. She then held it up to her own ear trying to see how it might adhere. It was adorable. Grandma got quite a kick out of the whole thing. Grandma then showed her a photo frame that had a picture of her and grandpa. It was for their 50th wedding anniversary. The frame had a wind up music box on the back. Claire loves music and was thoroughly delighted when grandma wound it up and the delicate melody chimed out. She smiled and did her little Claire dance. Each time the music would fade grandma would wind it up again. It didn't take long before Claire was trying to wind it herself, her keen eyes not missing what was being done to bring the music back.
I sat and stared at the interaction. At that point it was just the two of them and the music as far as they were concerned. Ages apart, worlds apart, but so totally content and in love. One is 93, one just barley over a year old. I was sad to think of grandma's youth, now gone. I was almost a bit overwhelmed to think how much life is between the stages of those two women. I am caught somewhere in the middle. Not wanting to go back so far as Claire, unsettled with where I am now, and not ready for what grandma is going through. Unconcerned, oblivious really, to my thoughts, however, the two of them sat in happy bliss. Just to enjoy each others company was all that was needed. It warmed my heart to see it. It saddened me to know how brief a snapshot in time it really was.
Sad Happy. I think ultimately it is good for the heart.
Monday, October 11, 2010
"The heavens declare the Glory of the Lord."
This verse came to mind as Chris and I soared above the clouds on our way to Florida for eventual adventure on the high seas. I had not been to the ocean in eight years. Oh, it was way too long. Once our cruise ship left the port and the ocean stretched ahead of me I was again instantly in love with it all. The sounds, the smells, the colors!! Where else does a deep navy blue turn into the most beautiful turquoise topped with white froth?
I spent countless minutes staring over the rail - completely taken by the water's power. I realize when that verse was written not many had been out fully in the open sea with no land in sight. The heavens are truly glorious, but for me the ocean tops the skies. The vast seas really do declare the Glory of the Lord.
The ocean reminds me of how small I really am. It is such a vast space. It is full of alien like creatures and holds countless secrets, many of which we will never realize. The perpetual tides never tire at circulating the water. The waves pound the shore and wash onto land various treasures to the delight of beachcombers. I found three sharks teeth on that trip, and I marvel to think of the creatures that once utilized the sharp, triangular pieces of bone.
Many times as I looked over the rail my mind wandered to thoughts of being stranded out there. Without a boat and provisions you might as well be stranded on Antarctica. Maybe that was the draw of past sailors - such beauty mixed with danger and uncertainty. Of course you can't ignore the lure that travel and adventure have as well.
I have often wondered why God put so much wonder in a part of the Earth that is difficult for us to know. Past generations could never have imagined the realm of the deep sea - volcanic vents and glow in the dark fish.
My frustration at being landlocked is eased a bit by realizing I will never wet my toes in the salty expanse enough for it to become routine. Each time will be exciting and awe inspiring.
The heavens, the ocean, yes, even the prairie declares the Glory of the Lord. They have his hand print on them. He has allowed some to be beautiful, some to be magnificent, and some to be nearly overwhelming in the wondrous spell they cast.
This verse came to mind as Chris and I soared above the clouds on our way to Florida for eventual adventure on the high seas. I had not been to the ocean in eight years. Oh, it was way too long. Once our cruise ship left the port and the ocean stretched ahead of me I was again instantly in love with it all. The sounds, the smells, the colors!! Where else does a deep navy blue turn into the most beautiful turquoise topped with white froth?
I spent countless minutes staring over the rail - completely taken by the water's power. I realize when that verse was written not many had been out fully in the open sea with no land in sight. The heavens are truly glorious, but for me the ocean tops the skies. The vast seas really do declare the Glory of the Lord.
The ocean reminds me of how small I really am. It is such a vast space. It is full of alien like creatures and holds countless secrets, many of which we will never realize. The perpetual tides never tire at circulating the water. The waves pound the shore and wash onto land various treasures to the delight of beachcombers. I found three sharks teeth on that trip, and I marvel to think of the creatures that once utilized the sharp, triangular pieces of bone.
Many times as I looked over the rail my mind wandered to thoughts of being stranded out there. Without a boat and provisions you might as well be stranded on Antarctica. Maybe that was the draw of past sailors - such beauty mixed with danger and uncertainty. Of course you can't ignore the lure that travel and adventure have as well.
I have often wondered why God put so much wonder in a part of the Earth that is difficult for us to know. Past generations could never have imagined the realm of the deep sea - volcanic vents and glow in the dark fish.
My frustration at being landlocked is eased a bit by realizing I will never wet my toes in the salty expanse enough for it to become routine. Each time will be exciting and awe inspiring.
The heavens, the ocean, yes, even the prairie declares the Glory of the Lord. They have his hand print on them. He has allowed some to be beautiful, some to be magnificent, and some to be nearly overwhelming in the wondrous spell they cast.
Monday, September 20, 2010
New Look!! Same disorganized content.
Insert smirk here XXX
Saturday, September 11, 2010
A Beautiful Tribute
I have an amazing treasure trove of information about my father's side of the family. Frank's (my great-great grandfather) brother, James, wrote a life sketch of their father, Burton Ayres. The preface to that sketch is a loving and beautiful tribute. I was so touched by it that I wanted to share.
A Life Sketch of Burton Ayres
Preface
The world's worthiest ancestry who were born to what the world calls "humble" conditions of avocation, and yet with noble traits and generous impulses, have too often passed away "unhonored and unsung." Many a so-called ordinary folk who have hewn out a home and a character in the wilds of the West, and yet not for themselves alone, but for their posterity have just claims upon the gratitude and remembrance of succeeding generations, and the records on high may yet reveal who had the greater part and the highest credit in reclaiming the earth from its wild state to render it a fit and beautiful world for God's children.
The cordon of history that surrounds such lives is a romance of itself, and may be the inspiration of children's children. Gratitude is the highest impulse of the soul, and ingratitude is an unpardonable sin.
The Dower of a Christian home, a civilized community, religious and secular education, the evolution of a free state and nation proclaims a just eulogy upon the lives and character of our fathers.
Such reflections have led the writer of this little sketch to undertake a work that from lack of materials, which might in other conditions been obtained, must of necessity be very imperfect, and yet, whose meagerness may not excuse from recording what we know of one whose life was a continuous exploit, whose trade made him an industrial necessity, and whose honesty made him honorable, and widely known among the earlier and later settlers of Northern Illinois.
To not record even what is known of such a father would be ungrateful and unfilial.
J.C.A.
James C. Ayres
Oh, that I could someday be worthy of such a tribute.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
House Update - Installment Two
So I told you all that we are going to be working on my grandmother's house in order to someday actually live there. I love history and archeology, so this is a blast for me. Yesterday dad and I worked out the original plan of the house. See, the stairs have been reoriented and there are several additions. The original house was a bit of a box and had four rooms. A kitchen, dining room, sun porch, and additional bedroom have been added on. Even the history of the additions is interesting. For example, the dining room was extended a few feet just so great-grandpa Melton could sit in his chair and look out a window. An addition just for the sake of a view.
Oh my, and lets talk about the layers and layers of floor covering going on here. First is the original wood floor. I love, love, love exposing this. Just to know my great-great grandparents trod on these makes this history geek quite happy. Then there is congoleum. I now know more about this product than I ever though I would. I had to research it when we uncovered it since I had no idea what it was. Some of it is quite pretty actually. But whoever put it down just added the next layer over what was already there. The two downstairs rooms have many, many layers of carpet. I for one am strangely excited to see them there. It gives me a concrete view of the changes that have taken place over the years.
Last week we took out what was left of the chimney. It had been partially removed when the house went from wood to gas heat. What was left was weighing the house down. As we removed the bricks the smell of a fire filled the room we worked in. I couldn't help but let my mind linger on what it would have been like to see Lizzie at that fire, cooking the family dinner. The chimney was the heart of the house for so long - providing heat and a way to cook and clean. Now that it is out we plan to re-purpose it too. It will be parcelled out to family who will use it each in their own way. It has been given new life. It is kind of cool to realize all the memories those bricks hold, and that they will go on soaking up family moments for years to come.
Oh my, and lets talk about the layers and layers of floor covering going on here. First is the original wood floor. I love, love, love exposing this. Just to know my great-great grandparents trod on these makes this history geek quite happy. Then there is congoleum. I now know more about this product than I ever though I would. I had to research it when we uncovered it since I had no idea what it was. Some of it is quite pretty actually. But whoever put it down just added the next layer over what was already there. The two downstairs rooms have many, many layers of carpet. I for one am strangely excited to see them there. It gives me a concrete view of the changes that have taken place over the years.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Perpetual Lessons
“What have you done?”
“I tried to hold still the day.”
“How?”
“I firmly planted my feet. I raised my right hand against the sun, blocking it’s path across the sky. I lifted my face to the north wind, denying its travel to the south. With my left hand I stilled the western sky, banishing it to an eternal state of pre-dawn darkness and gray dusk. I turned my back to the south, blocking it’s warmth and damming up it’s hot wind. I willed the day to be still, frozen, unchanging. The good in my life would be forever good. While the bad would remain unchanged, no new ills or woes could develop. I would always know what there was and how things are. Nothing unexpected would challenge me.”
“Did you find success in this?”
“I… did not.”
“Did it bring you peace?”
“No. Not true peace.”
“What became of you? You look weary.”
“ My right hand caught fire and became useless. The sun then churned forward in it’s anger from all the new days that had been stolen from it. My left hand became gray and listless; it’s purpose stolen while living in a land of unfinished ends and beginnings. My face became frozen and lifeless - unable to feel or see beauty in anything. My back burned, scorched by a vindictive southern wind - it’s warmth in a fury over countless new lives and growth it had not been able to trigger. I then saw the new mercy I did not receive, the resolution of guilt and trouble, and new challenges that made me stronger. My control was a sham and I never really held anything at bay. I fear pain and loss, but they are inevitable. I wasted my time on trying to stop them when I should have learned how to survive, heal, grow, and then serve. I am so exhausted.”
“Was it for naught?”
“At first it seemed so - but I grow the most when I have been broken. I am dealing with the frustration of this fact.”
“What will you do now?”
“I am digesting new found truths. I am learning to use new strengths.”
“You may regress.”
“I am sure I shall. Soon I will falter, perhaps even stumble and fall.”
“Then what will you do? Will you try to halt the celestial dance again?”
“No. I know I won’t succeed in that. I have to keep getting up. Time does not have the authority to wait for me. I must endure it’s sequelae. But beauty and truth can accompany pain.”
“It is a hard lesson to learn and you will need reminders. There are those that will help you, but when you fight this sort of thing you must be prepared to be attacked. It is… inevitable.”
“I have to train and prepare. I have to surround myself with authentic companions. I have learned some, but also know I have a long way to go. My true hope comes from knowing this life has guaranteed deliverance. When I still myself, and learn to appreciate the rhythm of the heavens, the sun will tell me what it has seen while I slept.”
“I tried to hold still the day.”
“How?”
“I firmly planted my feet. I raised my right hand against the sun, blocking it’s path across the sky. I lifted my face to the north wind, denying its travel to the south. With my left hand I stilled the western sky, banishing it to an eternal state of pre-dawn darkness and gray dusk. I turned my back to the south, blocking it’s warmth and damming up it’s hot wind. I willed the day to be still, frozen, unchanging. The good in my life would be forever good. While the bad would remain unchanged, no new ills or woes could develop. I would always know what there was and how things are. Nothing unexpected would challenge me.”
“Did you find success in this?”
“I… did not.”
“Did it bring you peace?”
“No. Not true peace.”
“What became of you? You look weary.”
“ My right hand caught fire and became useless. The sun then churned forward in it’s anger from all the new days that had been stolen from it. My left hand became gray and listless; it’s purpose stolen while living in a land of unfinished ends and beginnings. My face became frozen and lifeless - unable to feel or see beauty in anything. My back burned, scorched by a vindictive southern wind - it’s warmth in a fury over countless new lives and growth it had not been able to trigger. I then saw the new mercy I did not receive, the resolution of guilt and trouble, and new challenges that made me stronger. My control was a sham and I never really held anything at bay. I fear pain and loss, but they are inevitable. I wasted my time on trying to stop them when I should have learned how to survive, heal, grow, and then serve. I am so exhausted.”
“Was it for naught?”
“At first it seemed so - but I grow the most when I have been broken. I am dealing with the frustration of this fact.”
“What will you do now?”
“I am digesting new found truths. I am learning to use new strengths.”
“You may regress.”
“I am sure I shall. Soon I will falter, perhaps even stumble and fall.”
“Then what will you do? Will you try to halt the celestial dance again?”
“No. I know I won’t succeed in that. I have to keep getting up. Time does not have the authority to wait for me. I must endure it’s sequelae. But beauty and truth can accompany pain.”
“It is a hard lesson to learn and you will need reminders. There are those that will help you, but when you fight this sort of thing you must be prepared to be attacked. It is… inevitable.”
“I have to train and prepare. I have to surround myself with authentic companions. I have learned some, but also know I have a long way to go. My true hope comes from knowing this life has guaranteed deliverance. When I still myself, and learn to appreciate the rhythm of the heavens, the sun will tell me what it has seen while I slept.”
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Brief Intro to the New Adventure
Well folks, it seems we shall be re-purposing a farm house built in 1871. Not what I had in mind when we moved back to Kansas. I always wish I could somehow see God's facial expression when He slips the unexpected curve ball in. I can almost hear Him say, "You didn't see that coming, huh?!?" The circumstances around this adventure are complex and emotional, so I won't go into those now. The house still belongs to my grandmother. It was originally inhabited by my great-great grandfather and grandmother, Franklin and Elizabeth Ayres. I affectionately refer to them as Frank and Lizzie. They were some pretty amazing people and I am excited to live where they have trod. There will be some demo work and remodeling to an extent. We are juggling aesthetics, safety, and budget. It will be all very interesting to say the least. Stay tuned for pictures and updates. Oh, and wish us luck and feel free to whisper some prayers. I am sure we will need them.
The Princess is One
Talk about transition. If ever there was an example of transition, it is the first year of life for any child. Or, how about from conception to that first birthday. One cell to a walkie-talkie. Amazing.
Here is to you, my Princess. The first year of your life has been tumultuous. You showed up unexpectedly and took our breath away. You were comfort in trying times; a soft little package of love to calm the soul. You were a smile to brighten the hospital room and dainty enough to hold when daddy was hurting. You were a chance for mommy to finally be girly in the midst of testosterone overload.
You were weak, helpless, dependent, fragile, needy, unresponsive. You are strong, learning to do for yourself, quick to get your needs met, learning to fend and defend, and full of love, smiles, and kisses. You cried and cooed; now you speak with emphasis. You laid still; now you crawl, roll, stand, and get into everything. You wanted only me; now though you prefer me, you love to interact with others.
You are so beautiful. You are smart and cunning. I see in your face that you are thinking all things through. You in turn study the face of others. You get to know them first, then offer your love. You will be a force to be reckoned with someday. I love you fiercely.
Your brothers went through similar transitions. They are changing too. You, my girlie girl will offer me a different sort of companionship than they. I can’t wait to traverse life with you.
Happy first year, my dear one. I am so thankful God gave you to me. Your brothers are surely the cake, which makes you the icing. Mommy is a lucky, lucky lady.
Here is to you, my Princess. The first year of your life has been tumultuous. You showed up unexpectedly and took our breath away. You were comfort in trying times; a soft little package of love to calm the soul. You were a smile to brighten the hospital room and dainty enough to hold when daddy was hurting. You were a chance for mommy to finally be girly in the midst of testosterone overload.
You were weak, helpless, dependent, fragile, needy, unresponsive. You are strong, learning to do for yourself, quick to get your needs met, learning to fend and defend, and full of love, smiles, and kisses. You cried and cooed; now you speak with emphasis. You laid still; now you crawl, roll, stand, and get into everything. You wanted only me; now though you prefer me, you love to interact with others.
You are so beautiful. You are smart and cunning. I see in your face that you are thinking all things through. You in turn study the face of others. You get to know them first, then offer your love. You will be a force to be reckoned with someday. I love you fiercely.
Your brothers went through similar transitions. They are changing too. You, my girlie girl will offer me a different sort of companionship than they. I can’t wait to traverse life with you.
Happy first year, my dear one. I am so thankful God gave you to me. Your brothers are surely the cake, which makes you the icing. Mommy is a lucky, lucky lady.
Claire Elizabeth Fontaine
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Mercy Dawns
I watched the silver moon bow to the pink of dawn this morning. I love to be up before everyone else. I like to hear the frog's nightly chorus give way to the melody of the birds. While I still miss the geography of Tennessee, you sure don’t see the sky there like you do here. It always feels so vast, like it could suck you up into oblivion at any moment. The stars loose no luster out here in the country.
I had planned to get up this early every day this summer to enjoy such a rare treat, but being mommy has just made me too tired to do it. There is so much peace to the beginning of the day - before you or someone else has had the chance to wreck it. This morning really reminded me of the verse that says,
"His mercies are new every morning."
The same stuff is happening out there at dawn everyday. The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west. The moon is always overshadowed by the sun. Nocturnal always gives way to diurnal. But what follows the dawn can be new. The mercy we receive to rewrite yesterday is a blessed thing. For a self critical gal like myself second chances are nearly manna.
Do yourself a favor - sometime soon go greet the morning. Go out in the black of night and await the sunrise. In the shade changes of black, to gray, to purple, to pink, to the full light of the sun see what happens in your heart.
I had planned to get up this early every day this summer to enjoy such a rare treat, but being mommy has just made me too tired to do it. There is so much peace to the beginning of the day - before you or someone else has had the chance to wreck it. This morning really reminded me of the verse that says,
"His mercies are new every morning."
The same stuff is happening out there at dawn everyday. The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west. The moon is always overshadowed by the sun. Nocturnal always gives way to diurnal. But what follows the dawn can be new. The mercy we receive to rewrite yesterday is a blessed thing. For a self critical gal like myself second chances are nearly manna.
Do yourself a favor - sometime soon go greet the morning. Go out in the black of night and await the sunrise. In the shade changes of black, to gray, to purple, to pink, to the full light of the sun see what happens in your heart.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Sum-Sum-Summertime
The grasshoppers are fat - the Swiss cheese looking leaves testament to their voracious appetites. Frogs and crickets start their nightly chorus at dusk, always heard but rarely seen. They are rivaled only by the cicadas. With years of interment and obscurity behind them they spend their brief time above ground calling for love with a deafening presence. The birds are thick now that spring babies have reached full size. Hummingbirds hum, bees buzz, cicadas drone, birds sing, frogs croak, leaves rustle, grass swishes, and the breeze whispers.
The verdant jungle of tomato plants magically turn green orbs to red overnight, offering up sweet fruit readily. The pear and apple trees are laden but still call for patience. Fields of corn stand proud. Of unique sounds, the wind through corn is magnificent. The sun burns, thunder rumbles, rain patters, silent growth abounds, and life erupts.
Spring is new life, but summer is the fulfillment of it. It is by far my most favorite time of year and what I yearn for in January. As all good things right now I am clinging to it and dread it’s end. In my mind I can see the long shadows of August afternoons and hear the slow die of the “weeeeeee-oooo-weeeeeee” cicada song. I suppose I would keep it summer forever if I had the chance. The smell of chlorine and sunscreen; fireworks and watermelon; and the feeling of being free of things.
While this summer has not been the exact respite I thought it would be, it has been other things I needed. As I write this, a storm is slowly rambling through, and the thunder and rain are gentle. Hummingbirds are defending territory mere inches from my head, and the frogs, cicadas, and crickets have deemed it safe to announce their presence. The air is fresh, the heat is gone, and the breeze is tender. My belly is full of tomatoes that came off the plant only this morning. My stout little grasshopper friend to my left will live to chew some scalloped edges in the leaves tonight. My feet are up. I’ve got my offspring in the house and out of my hair. This is retreat, and a darn good one too.
Peace does not mean quiet. Loud can be calm. You do not have to see what you hear to know it. Unplanned can become necessary. Unknown can become essential. Anticipated can evolve into disappointing.
To be honest I have felt a bit overextended and under appreciated lately. This is partly product of circumstances and a lot of being selfish. But I grin now as my boys can’t seem to stand that I am out here alone and feel the need to come invade my space.
“What are you doing mom? Mom? What are you doing? Can I come out there?????”
My niece is calling for me to come back in.
“Hiiiiii Aunt Chair-ty!! I see you! Are you coming back in Aunt Chair-ty? Aunt Chair-ty!! Come back in!!!!!!!”
My baby girl is not too happy with her daddy and needs her mama. I guess my solitude is up for today. But I think sometimes you need to let your battery drain totally dry in order to get the best charge.
The verdant jungle of tomato plants magically turn green orbs to red overnight, offering up sweet fruit readily. The pear and apple trees are laden but still call for patience. Fields of corn stand proud. Of unique sounds, the wind through corn is magnificent. The sun burns, thunder rumbles, rain patters, silent growth abounds, and life erupts.
Spring is new life, but summer is the fulfillment of it. It is by far my most favorite time of year and what I yearn for in January. As all good things right now I am clinging to it and dread it’s end. In my mind I can see the long shadows of August afternoons and hear the slow die of the “weeeeeee-oooo-weeeeeee” cicada song. I suppose I would keep it summer forever if I had the chance. The smell of chlorine and sunscreen; fireworks and watermelon; and the feeling of being free of things.
While this summer has not been the exact respite I thought it would be, it has been other things I needed. As I write this, a storm is slowly rambling through, and the thunder and rain are gentle. Hummingbirds are defending territory mere inches from my head, and the frogs, cicadas, and crickets have deemed it safe to announce their presence. The air is fresh, the heat is gone, and the breeze is tender. My belly is full of tomatoes that came off the plant only this morning. My stout little grasshopper friend to my left will live to chew some scalloped edges in the leaves tonight. My feet are up. I’ve got my offspring in the house and out of my hair. This is retreat, and a darn good one too.
Peace does not mean quiet. Loud can be calm. You do not have to see what you hear to know it. Unplanned can become necessary. Unknown can become essential. Anticipated can evolve into disappointing.
To be honest I have felt a bit overextended and under appreciated lately. This is partly product of circumstances and a lot of being selfish. But I grin now as my boys can’t seem to stand that I am out here alone and feel the need to come invade my space.
“What are you doing mom? Mom? What are you doing? Can I come out there?????”
My niece is calling for me to come back in.
“Hiiiiii Aunt Chair-ty!! I see you! Are you coming back in Aunt Chair-ty? Aunt Chair-ty!! Come back in!!!!!!!”
My baby girl is not too happy with her daddy and needs her mama. I guess my solitude is up for today. But I think sometimes you need to let your battery drain totally dry in order to get the best charge.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Musical Chairs
The game sounds nice, but, you see, I am not really a musical chairs kinda gal. While I might have fun at an innocent game or two, the premise actually is pretty stressful for me. Find a place to sit; find it quickly before anyone else can take it; a place that is your own; a place to hunker down and be comfy; somewhere to sit with assurance while those around you scramble to find purchase on a sanctuary. I like to know what I have is mine. It brings me joy to have control over my surroundings so I can alter them to best meet my needs, and also be as aesthetically pleasing to my eye as possible. I don’t really want to flit from place to place. I don't like to rent or borrow. I don't want to intrude, and I don't want to be a burden. I hate feeling like I am in competition for anything. I don't really enjoy the process of uprooting and relocating. I would be happy to settle down in the house of my dreams and be there till I meet the Maker (with some great vacations scattered about, mind you).
So here I am now, basically homeless. I have a place to live, a place to store my stuff, and a place for my kids to sleep safely in peace - but, it is not mine. A lot of “my” things are in boxes, my family of six is lined up like sardines in two bedrooms upstairs, and I have to adjust to having people around all the time. These things are not all bad but do require some concessions, growing in patience, and dying to what my selfish self wants.
I do believe we are on a new chapter of “Charity’s total makeover”, but this one doesn’t involve hair and makeup. God has been pruning my soul, turning diamonds to coal, and forcing me to do without. Really, I am thrilled about it. I truly am. In the quiet moments when the Spirit is near I realize that this is exactly what I need. I do not, however, always have a great attitude about it. It is so satisfying to be selfish and discontent at times. It is easy to give into the anger and frustration when you aren’t allowed full access to what you are most accustomed too.
I spent many days of the last year and a half wondering if I would loose my spouse and then have to function as a single mom. I had to sell a home I loved. My schedule became crazy and I could not just stay home to snuggle my newborn. I had to pack her up and haul her to multiple doctor appointments and visits to the hospital with her three wild brothers in tow at times too. I was forced to rely on others. This required letting people into my life to see what I usually keep private. Then, I had to pack up and leave my new family of five years. I had to leave place I had grown to love but could no longer stay in.
I thought the move home would be the stress reliever I needed. That God, I tell ya, He has so much up His sleeve. They are big sleeves you know. He knows I am thrilled to see my family often and that there are certain things about home that cannot be found anywhere else. But He knows that I only made it through phase one of the current makeover during the last 17 months. Phase two is going to require me to detach form some things that I had convinced myself to hold tightly too. The good news: the hard work will lead to a great payoff. The bad news: dealing with more change.
I will not run about wildly, dashing my friends to the ground in order to lay claim to a chair. Seems a bit like the mad land rushes in the 1800’s. I would rather just take my chair privately out somewhere where I can feel the breeze and hear the birds. I’ve got some soul searching to do, some fists to unclench, and some ideals to restructure.
Excuse me, I think I hear the music starting...
So here I am now, basically homeless. I have a place to live, a place to store my stuff, and a place for my kids to sleep safely in peace - but, it is not mine. A lot of “my” things are in boxes, my family of six is lined up like sardines in two bedrooms upstairs, and I have to adjust to having people around all the time. These things are not all bad but do require some concessions, growing in patience, and dying to what my selfish self wants.
I do believe we are on a new chapter of “Charity’s total makeover”, but this one doesn’t involve hair and makeup. God has been pruning my soul, turning diamonds to coal, and forcing me to do without. Really, I am thrilled about it. I truly am. In the quiet moments when the Spirit is near I realize that this is exactly what I need. I do not, however, always have a great attitude about it. It is so satisfying to be selfish and discontent at times. It is easy to give into the anger and frustration when you aren’t allowed full access to what you are most accustomed too.
I spent many days of the last year and a half wondering if I would loose my spouse and then have to function as a single mom. I had to sell a home I loved. My schedule became crazy and I could not just stay home to snuggle my newborn. I had to pack her up and haul her to multiple doctor appointments and visits to the hospital with her three wild brothers in tow at times too. I was forced to rely on others. This required letting people into my life to see what I usually keep private. Then, I had to pack up and leave my new family of five years. I had to leave place I had grown to love but could no longer stay in.
I thought the move home would be the stress reliever I needed. That God, I tell ya, He has so much up His sleeve. They are big sleeves you know. He knows I am thrilled to see my family often and that there are certain things about home that cannot be found anywhere else. But He knows that I only made it through phase one of the current makeover during the last 17 months. Phase two is going to require me to detach form some things that I had convinced myself to hold tightly too. The good news: the hard work will lead to a great payoff. The bad news: dealing with more change.
I will not run about wildly, dashing my friends to the ground in order to lay claim to a chair. Seems a bit like the mad land rushes in the 1800’s. I would rather just take my chair privately out somewhere where I can feel the breeze and hear the birds. I’ve got some soul searching to do, some fists to unclench, and some ideals to restructure.
Excuse me, I think I hear the music starting...
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Going West...
The end of my five years in Tennessee snuck up on me out of the chaos of the last year. I had dreamed of returning west many times, but finally saying goodbye was harder than I thought. Moving weekend took me to the limits of my stress tolerance. I haven’t been there in awhile. What to keep, what to get rid of, how to pack it, helping the kids with their stress, worrying about Chris’ ability to help out, having to ask others for assistance again, and protecting my baby girl from absorbing too much out of the tense atmosphere. All of that is a lot for an emotional girl to handle.
Overcome with a myriad of emotions, I noticed the beautiful way Tennessee said goodbye to us as we headed west on I 40. A tangerine sun hung from gray-purple clouds. With only the southern hemisphere visible it appeared more like a reflection in a lake. It was dusk, and the fading light mimicked our fading time there. The trees seemed thicker and closer, their green leaves loosing color in the shadows. Billowy folds of mist were flowing over the canopy. Creeping tendrils reached down like fingers towards the base of the trees that bordered the road. It was some of God’s best handiwork.
The following day Kansas greeted us. The greeting was also beautiful, but volatile. Sprawling emerald pastures speckled with bovines and rippling wheat fields stretched for miles. The golden grain will be ready for harvest soon. You can see, and see, and see forever. In the distance, a thunderhead. We approach it as it builds, seeing the unrest in the atmosphere above us. Different shades of white, gray, black, and deep blue-purple swirl in the clouds. An indigo wall cloud, immense and intimidating, seems to take up our entire view out the left window. Pelting rain, gusting winds, exploding masses of hot and cold air - spring in the Midwest. We made it through the storm and arrived safely at home, or at least where we will be staying for the time being. We don’t really have a home currently. But God is good - we left Tennessee with all six of us together. Though we still face a lot of unknown, we have the privilege of waiting in the blessings and promises of God as He prepares us for the next chapter.
Overcome with a myriad of emotions, I noticed the beautiful way Tennessee said goodbye to us as we headed west on I 40. A tangerine sun hung from gray-purple clouds. With only the southern hemisphere visible it appeared more like a reflection in a lake. It was dusk, and the fading light mimicked our fading time there. The trees seemed thicker and closer, their green leaves loosing color in the shadows. Billowy folds of mist were flowing over the canopy. Creeping tendrils reached down like fingers towards the base of the trees that bordered the road. It was some of God’s best handiwork.
The following day Kansas greeted us. The greeting was also beautiful, but volatile. Sprawling emerald pastures speckled with bovines and rippling wheat fields stretched for miles. The golden grain will be ready for harvest soon. You can see, and see, and see forever. In the distance, a thunderhead. We approach it as it builds, seeing the unrest in the atmosphere above us. Different shades of white, gray, black, and deep blue-purple swirl in the clouds. An indigo wall cloud, immense and intimidating, seems to take up our entire view out the left window. Pelting rain, gusting winds, exploding masses of hot and cold air - spring in the Midwest. We made it through the storm and arrived safely at home, or at least where we will be staying for the time being. We don’t really have a home currently. But God is good - we left Tennessee with all six of us together. Though we still face a lot of unknown, we have the privilege of waiting in the blessings and promises of God as He prepares us for the next chapter.
Photo by Joshua Ayres
Thursday, May 27, 2010
A Simple Thing
I pack you up, reminder of difficult days. White as if innocent, but I know you stain easily. Red jello is not your friend. Your structure allowed easy port access, so you were purchased. You were only worn at those times, and so sat dormant when not needed. I hope you are never needed again even though I harbor no ill will towards you. You became a symbol of days apart, sickness, and visits to bring the family together again; even if it was just for a cafeteria lunch. Amazing how something so simple can evoke such a complex memory. I am sentimental, foolish, and inappropriately superstitious, so I am keeping you and your clones for now. I am not ready to forget the foaming hand sanitizer, C.S. Lewis books read in stages, walks to Children’s for ice cream, and squishing into tiny rooms to brighten a day. When I unpack you I will remember with renewed emotion, which is the valuable medicine I need. Some things need to go dormant as long as the lesson they were a part of lives strong.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Life in Metaphor
Over the past couple of years life has become very metaphorical for me. The types of things I have had to deal with have caused me to see things differently than in the past. Most of the metaphors have been spiritual in nature, reflecting my deep need for God in a trial. Some of them would crash into my conscience like a runaway truck, while others drifted slowly down upon my awareness like a plucked feather lazily descends to earth. I see why Jesus so often turned to stories, metaphors, and hyperbole to help man begin to understand the kingdom of God.
I had a recent experience-turned-metaphor that hit home on an issue I have struggled with for some time. I love to be in control, or at least have a firm, false sensation that I am in control. I like to think I will be able to protect and preserve the ones I love by my own powerful self. Anyone laughing yet? By sheer stubbornness I clench my hands around my stuff to protect it and keep it from God. He might take it away or do something differently than I would, you know. Clenched hands can damage what they hold and have no room to receive anything new. Daily I struggle to let go, give God what is His to begin with, and try to remember I must loose my life to truly find it and live it.
So, here is the aforementioned metaphor. I took the kids to the zoo during our second to last week in Nashville before we moved. We had a lot of playdates that week to see our friends one last time, and that day happened to be the only day we could go. I didn’t even bother looking at the weather. After being there for less than an hour I see dark clouds heading our way. I called Chris to see how bad things would get and after a small discussion I felt it would be safe to stay. It sprinkled a bit and cleared out, which is what I thought would happen after Chris told me about the radar. My dear husband is no meteorologist. About an hour later after we have had lunch I realize we are going to get round two of some precipitation. I plan in my head we will go to a certain point and then be able to get back around to some shelter. Silly girl! The heavens open up and I realize we have one shot at shelter before we are totally and thoroughly soaked. I use the word “shelter” here loosely. It comprised of a small bench under a roof about the size of one piece of tin. It is open on all sides and sits in front of the porcupine exhibit. Being the Nashville zoo there are trees all around. Several people are running away up the path as we approach (but none with four kids) including a zoo staff member. We are alone. We run up and plop down on the bench and pull our knees up to our chest and watch the deluge begin. I pulled the stroller under as far as I could and snuggled Claire on my lap. Lightening is coming closer our way.
“Mom, how do you find out how close the lightening is again?”
“Start counting when you see it, then divide that number by four when you hear the thunder. It is one mile for every four seconds. But you need to count one-one-thousand so you don’t count too fast.”
“Oh, OK.”
Flash of lightening.
“One one-thou-BOOM!!!!!!!!”
“Mom?”
“Yes, well that is pretty close guys. Um, well, we could pray now.”
So we sat and prayed under our little tin roof as it “protected” us from the storm. I prayed for my tiny flock, asking God to take pity on our situation and help the storm move through quickly. God, with His wonderful sense of ironic humor, brought to my mind how well equipped I was to protect these young lives. I fell a little short. When it comes down to it everyday is a storm under a tiny tin roof. I can protect them only as well as God gives me the ability to. But I tell you, as I sat there I also was gifted an amazing peace; I knew He saw us there and I knew it would be OK. He was even more gracious and gave the kids that same peace. I was so impressed at their bravery; even when it improved once the storm moved on. Noah, always the goof and able to make me laugh, said, “Mom! I wasn’t just praying, I was singing praise songs too!!!”
Yes, what a great time to sing praise. So here I am, clicking open the selfish, human fists I have made. Some days just resolving to not clench them tighter; some days actually opening them up a notch. I do know God will always need to be sending me a bit of lightening here and there for motivation.
I had a recent experience-turned-metaphor that hit home on an issue I have struggled with for some time. I love to be in control, or at least have a firm, false sensation that I am in control. I like to think I will be able to protect and preserve the ones I love by my own powerful self. Anyone laughing yet? By sheer stubbornness I clench my hands around my stuff to protect it and keep it from God. He might take it away or do something differently than I would, you know. Clenched hands can damage what they hold and have no room to receive anything new. Daily I struggle to let go, give God what is His to begin with, and try to remember I must loose my life to truly find it and live it.
So, here is the aforementioned metaphor. I took the kids to the zoo during our second to last week in Nashville before we moved. We had a lot of playdates that week to see our friends one last time, and that day happened to be the only day we could go. I didn’t even bother looking at the weather. After being there for less than an hour I see dark clouds heading our way. I called Chris to see how bad things would get and after a small discussion I felt it would be safe to stay. It sprinkled a bit and cleared out, which is what I thought would happen after Chris told me about the radar. My dear husband is no meteorologist. About an hour later after we have had lunch I realize we are going to get round two of some precipitation. I plan in my head we will go to a certain point and then be able to get back around to some shelter. Silly girl! The heavens open up and I realize we have one shot at shelter before we are totally and thoroughly soaked. I use the word “shelter” here loosely. It comprised of a small bench under a roof about the size of one piece of tin. It is open on all sides and sits in front of the porcupine exhibit. Being the Nashville zoo there are trees all around. Several people are running away up the path as we approach (but none with four kids) including a zoo staff member. We are alone. We run up and plop down on the bench and pull our knees up to our chest and watch the deluge begin. I pulled the stroller under as far as I could and snuggled Claire on my lap. Lightening is coming closer our way.
“Mom, how do you find out how close the lightening is again?”
“Start counting when you see it, then divide that number by four when you hear the thunder. It is one mile for every four seconds. But you need to count one-one-thousand so you don’t count too fast.”
“Oh, OK.”
Flash of lightening.
“One one-thou-BOOM!!!!!!!!”
“Mom?”
“Yes, well that is pretty close guys. Um, well, we could pray now.”
So we sat and prayed under our little tin roof as it “protected” us from the storm. I prayed for my tiny flock, asking God to take pity on our situation and help the storm move through quickly. God, with His wonderful sense of ironic humor, brought to my mind how well equipped I was to protect these young lives. I fell a little short. When it comes down to it everyday is a storm under a tiny tin roof. I can protect them only as well as God gives me the ability to. But I tell you, as I sat there I also was gifted an amazing peace; I knew He saw us there and I knew it would be OK. He was even more gracious and gave the kids that same peace. I was so impressed at their bravery; even when it improved once the storm moved on. Noah, always the goof and able to make me laugh, said, “Mom! I wasn’t just praying, I was singing praise songs too!!!”
Yes, what a great time to sing praise. So here I am, clicking open the selfish, human fists I have made. Some days just resolving to not clench them tighter; some days actually opening them up a notch. I do know God will always need to be sending me a bit of lightening here and there for motivation.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Five Noisy Minutes of Our Life
I have chatty kids. Exceptionally chatty. Levi opens his mouth when he wakes up and the whole day is one long run on sentence for him. He can follow me around the house with a never ending dialogue. I try hard to listen well, but sometimes when my brain is numb from the banter I tend to space out a little; or ask for a five minute break to let my brain rest. Silas can never “give me a minute.” He must finish what he has to say before you can go on to anything else. Noah does not stalk me so much with his need to utilize speech, but he sure has a lot to throw his brother’s way. I tend to be shy in social situations, but when I get a chance to have a “grown up” conversation I do not usually run out of topics. It is really great when we go on road trips. Chris doesn’t say much, so I can get a lot off my chest as we eat up the miles.
So, the other day as we were heading home from church I was noticing the ridiculous and crazy things that sometimes come up in conversation. Words and thoughts collide in mid air as each one tries to get their point across. The volume escalates as someone in the back tries to tell me something in the front, while someone else feels the need to crescendo to preserve their say.
On this day I was so amused at the turns in the conversation I decided to share with you the weirdness that evolves on a car ride with my family. Here is a five minute excerpt of a typical Fontaine car ride. For ease of typing “C” is Chris, “M” is me, “L” is Levi, “N” is Noah, “S” is Silas, and “B” is Claire (baby).
S- “Did you know that God is everywhere?!?!?!”
M-”Yes, isn’t that awesome?”
N-”Yeah, Si! God can be anywhere, and He is everywhere all at the same time. He is right here right now!”
B- “Blag a lala dadada, SQUEEL!!!, badada.”
M-”Do you-” (I have been cut off) Under breath, “I can’t ever finish a sentence.”
S- “Guys!!!” (clapping hands) “God is even in my bloody lip!!”
N- “God is right there on your shoe!”
L- “Mom! What do you call a happy car?”
M- “I don’t know, what?”
L-”A joy-ota!!”
B-”A bla bla!! Ondabla, ahhhhhh!!!”
M-”Very cute Levi.”
Levi and Noah are now in some nonsense banter about a bunch of stupid stuff, and Silas is trying hard to get control of the situation.
S- “God is even in our tires!!!”
C- (laughing) “That’s so funny that he said that!”
M- (non stop kid voices in background) “Why?”
C- “That’s why the Amish won’t use air filled tires. They think it is somehow trapping the Holy Spirit.”
M -”Why do they think that?”
C-”I don’t know, some random verse they have taken out of context.”
S-”Levi!! Can I have that?!?”
C-”I wonder if the Amish can use those new Nitrogen filled tires?”
S-”God is everywhere; He is in my throat!!!”
L- “Mom!! What do cars play with??”
M-”What?”
L- “A toy-ota!!”
M- groan…
N-”Levi! Levi! Levi!”
M-”Levi, would you answer him?” (to Chris now) “Maybe if they use the Nitrogen tires it’s only like trapping part of the Holy Spirit. You know Nitrogen is only a fraction of air.”
N-”Si, you know what’s great? You aren’t hungry in heaven!”
S-”Yeah! If you’re hungry and need a snack, boom!- you get one!”
B-”SHRIEK!!!! A blu blu bla bla bla!!!!”
M-”You know, our kids are nuts.”
C-”Yeah.”
I suppose someday I will miss it all. It will be awfully lonely to drive in a car by myself with only the radio to listen to.
We are a weird family - we Fontaine’s. Hope you enjoyed a moment of our oddity.
So, the other day as we were heading home from church I was noticing the ridiculous and crazy things that sometimes come up in conversation. Words and thoughts collide in mid air as each one tries to get their point across. The volume escalates as someone in the back tries to tell me something in the front, while someone else feels the need to crescendo to preserve their say.
On this day I was so amused at the turns in the conversation I decided to share with you the weirdness that evolves on a car ride with my family. Here is a five minute excerpt of a typical Fontaine car ride. For ease of typing “C” is Chris, “M” is me, “L” is Levi, “N” is Noah, “S” is Silas, and “B” is Claire (baby).
S- “Did you know that God is everywhere?!?!?!”
M-”Yes, isn’t that awesome?”
N-”Yeah, Si! God can be anywhere, and He is everywhere all at the same time. He is right here right now!”
B- “Blag a lala dadada, SQUEEL!!!, badada.”
M-”Do you-” (I have been cut off) Under breath, “I can’t ever finish a sentence.”
S- “Guys!!!” (clapping hands) “God is even in my bloody lip!!”
N- “God is right there on your shoe!”
L- “Mom! What do you call a happy car?”
M- “I don’t know, what?”
L-”A joy-ota!!”
B-”A bla bla!! Ondabla, ahhhhhh!!!”
M-”Very cute Levi.”
Levi and Noah are now in some nonsense banter about a bunch of stupid stuff, and Silas is trying hard to get control of the situation.
S- “God is even in our tires!!!”
C- (laughing) “That’s so funny that he said that!”
M- (non stop kid voices in background) “Why?”
C- “That’s why the Amish won’t use air filled tires. They think it is somehow trapping the Holy Spirit.”
M -”Why do they think that?”
C-”I don’t know, some random verse they have taken out of context.”
S-”Levi!! Can I have that?!?”
C-”I wonder if the Amish can use those new Nitrogen filled tires?”
S-”God is everywhere; He is in my throat!!!”
L- “Mom!! What do cars play with??”
M-”What?”
L- “A toy-ota!!”
M- groan…
N-”Levi! Levi! Levi!”
M-”Levi, would you answer him?” (to Chris now) “Maybe if they use the Nitrogen tires it’s only like trapping part of the Holy Spirit. You know Nitrogen is only a fraction of air.”
N-”Si, you know what’s great? You aren’t hungry in heaven!”
S-”Yeah! If you’re hungry and need a snack, boom!- you get one!”
B-”SHRIEK!!!! A blu blu bla bla bla!!!!”
M-”You know, our kids are nuts.”
C-”Yeah.”
I suppose someday I will miss it all. It will be awfully lonely to drive in a car by myself with only the radio to listen to.
We are a weird family - we Fontaine’s. Hope you enjoyed a moment of our oddity.
Friday, May 14, 2010
When It Feels Like Home, It Is
I took the kids to Kingston Springs yesterday. We have not been back in almost a year. They wanted to see “our house” one more time before we leave Tennessee. We wound up the bluff around the familiar curves to Cross Country Drive. It’s amazing how your brain can take the time you have been gone and shrink it to what feels like mere seconds. After a slow drive by and flashing memories we reluctantly pulled away. For all the turmoil we had in that house I am relieved that pretty much just happy memories prevail. On the way back to the highway I was a bit surprised to notice that I could go on auto pilot if I so wished. I remembered the feel of the road and could anticipate the next curve or dip. I accelerated and braked without consciously thinking to do so. It took me off guard that the feeling of familiarity brought such comfort. That house was home for us, here in Tennessee. The apartment we lived in for seven months utill we bought the house, and this rental house we have been in just shy of a year have never really felt like “home.”
Whenever we travel back to Kansas there is always such anticipation. It is home; it is family; it is familiar; it is safe. At Christmas time I always notice that slipping back in like we never left is always possible. The time we have been away vanishes just like on that drive to house number 1005. I treasure family and history. That is a large reason we have chosen to move back. I have one life and one chance to give family and history to my children the way I had it as a child.
As I think of my friends that I must leave now, my stomach sinks and I get an empty feeling in my chest. My friends allow me to be myself and have stepped in to be my family in ways I never realized friends could do before living here. It has been a rocky five years in the Volunteer State, and without friends the memories of the pain would have no bright spots. I am sad to have to leave the familiarity of my friends; my new family. I know I can stay in touch. What I mourn is slipping into auto pilot around a group of people I love. Knowing and anticipating what can make someone laugh, cheer them up, help them see something differently, and give them encouragement means a lot to me. I also mourn being able to look someone in the eye that I respect as they love, encourage, teach, and comfort me. I never thought Tennessee would feel like home the way it has. My dear sweet friends, thank you for giving me that.
So I am leaving family and home to go back to family and home. I am lucky and sad; happy and grieving; anticipating and regretting; hopeful and contemplative.
This post is for you, my Tennessee family. I’m a Midwest girl who never thought she could be happy away from family. Before I moved here I never knew you had to specify the caloric content of your tea. I had no idea streets could be schizophrenic, changing their names in an intersection. I learned to adapt to not being able to see for miles unless you were at the top of the bluff. I now allow people who don’t know me to call me “sweetie”, “honey”, and “darlin’” without cringing. I will actually miss it. The best part about coming here was being forced to rely on people who didn’t share the blood that runs in my veins. That has been the most amazing lesson and blessing I have ever had. You all rock, and I am eternally in your debt for giving me a second home. Love you guys.
Whenever we travel back to Kansas there is always such anticipation. It is home; it is family; it is familiar; it is safe. At Christmas time I always notice that slipping back in like we never left is always possible. The time we have been away vanishes just like on that drive to house number 1005. I treasure family and history. That is a large reason we have chosen to move back. I have one life and one chance to give family and history to my children the way I had it as a child.
As I think of my friends that I must leave now, my stomach sinks and I get an empty feeling in my chest. My friends allow me to be myself and have stepped in to be my family in ways I never realized friends could do before living here. It has been a rocky five years in the Volunteer State, and without friends the memories of the pain would have no bright spots. I am sad to have to leave the familiarity of my friends; my new family. I know I can stay in touch. What I mourn is slipping into auto pilot around a group of people I love. Knowing and anticipating what can make someone laugh, cheer them up, help them see something differently, and give them encouragement means a lot to me. I also mourn being able to look someone in the eye that I respect as they love, encourage, teach, and comfort me. I never thought Tennessee would feel like home the way it has. My dear sweet friends, thank you for giving me that.
So I am leaving family and home to go back to family and home. I am lucky and sad; happy and grieving; anticipating and regretting; hopeful and contemplative.
This post is for you, my Tennessee family. I’m a Midwest girl who never thought she could be happy away from family. Before I moved here I never knew you had to specify the caloric content of your tea. I had no idea streets could be schizophrenic, changing their names in an intersection. I learned to adapt to not being able to see for miles unless you were at the top of the bluff. I now allow people who don’t know me to call me “sweetie”, “honey”, and “darlin’” without cringing. I will actually miss it. The best part about coming here was being forced to rely on people who didn’t share the blood that runs in my veins. That has been the most amazing lesson and blessing I have ever had. You all rock, and I am eternally in your debt for giving me a second home. Love you guys.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I. Am. Mom.
Mom! Moooooooommmm!! Mommy! Mama! Mooooomiiiiiieeeee!
Yeah, I'll answer to that. Even if you aren't my child, I might look your way.
Nine years and two months ago I officially became mom.
Hey, kids! God knew you first, but I was a close second. I knew about all of you before you had existed even a month. I tolerate pregnancy, labor, and delivery (all uncomfortable, the last two you may pay me back for later) because I knew it meant I could hold you in my arms someday.
I was the first to love you, comfort you, nourish you, clean you, teach you, and protect you.
But , I'm not perfect. I raise my voice. I fail. I don't always meet your needs like I would like to now that you are bigger.
None of that disqualifies me. I know you better than anyone else. I know when you went to bed without brushing your teeth, when you snuck the food, brought the toy in the car, spoke under your breath, and disobeyed my wishes when I wasn't around. I know how much food to put on your plate, what color of shirt to get you, what book you might like, and when you need alone time. Most of your inside jokes are with me. I am an expert in your odd quirks.
Kids, mommy is working hard. She is trying to be your mom more like God is her father. I need more patience, kindness, and self control. I need to tell you "good job" more. I need to tell you how awesome I think you handled the last year of crisis. You need more gentle reminders in place of my frustrated critiques.
You are all smart, beautiful, creative, funny, strong, loving, and unique. Hang in there. Stick with me. We have come a long way and have a long way to go. I need to hold your hand on the way.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The Dragon Revisited
I have a tendency to remember a place based on the feelings and vibe I had the last time I was there. This isn’t always fair, but it is the way my brain is wired. Thankfully it doesn’t always stop me from going back to a place. This is good because it gives me the opportunity to re-define a place and think of it with fonder thoughts.
Yesterday I dropped Chris off at Vanderbilt so he could have his port removed. Now that he is done with chemo, and there is no evidence of the cancer at this time, it is safe to remove it. He has had it for eleven months now.
I chose to stay close by at Dragon Park so I could be there quickly to pick him up. No one knew how long it would take and I didn’t want to come all the way home just to be here for an hour and then have to leave again.
The last time I was at Dragon Park was a mess. I had dropped Chris off to be seen by the doctor. He had only been home two days after his first post-op chemo round. It was a 5 day inpatient stay. He got so dehydrated he couldn’t pee and he could not stop throwing up. He only has one kidney now and I was fearing it would shut down if we didn’t fix things fast. We had to leave in a hurry so I had minimal supplies. The kids were hungry, Claire was screaming (she hated her car seat), and I was mega stressed. So I take the kids to a drive through. I figured we could eat at the park and I would let the kids play while I waited to find out if Chris would be admitted.
I get everyone fed, including Claire, and the kids play for awhile. Claire wakes up and I need to change her diaper. This two year old boy walks over and stares at my task. His mom comes over and tells him to leave us alone, then says, “Wait, maybe he should watch this. He is going to have a little sister in a few weeks.” Really? I am very protective of my girl’s privacy so that was unpleasant for me.
Then everyone has to go pee. We get to the bathroom and there is a maintenance man in there. He said, “I’m sorry, I just shut them off for the season about five minutes ago.”
“Are you serious??!” I ask.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“Um, I have three kids here who need to pee. What am I supposed to do? Is there a bathroom close by?"
“There are some port-a-potties over there.”
Right. Love those.
“Thanks.”
Sigh
“OK, kids. Let’s do this.”
Thank God I had the stroller for Claire. I had two boys stay with her as I take each child in one at a time to the pit. Really, I would have rather had them pee on the ground if it wasn’t a public park. It would have been cleaner, fresher, and less nauseous. Since they aren’t really tall enough to use those right I have them stand at the side of the seat, up on the ledge, and then aim for the pretty blue water. My job is to give them something to hold on to that isn't infected and make sure they are balanced. They are always afraid I will drop them in. Are you kidding?? First of all, I love you, my offspring. Secondly, I don’t want to reach in to pull anything out. Ugh.
In no order as to protect their fragile little feelings, here is how it went.
I get the first boy through the whole process mostly OK. Then the second one I grab isn’t too much of a problem. On to the last wary child. He gets so scared I will cast him into the abyss that he freaks. The end result is I get to experience a stream of warm pee for a couple of seconds until he gets a grip on himself. You know, there are just no words here…
To top it off we find out they are admitting Chris and we could have just gone home all along.
At home we all take hot showers. I soap twice. Chris ends up staying in the hospital another week before it is safe for him to come home.
Yesterday was so much better. While I get a bit nervous for any procedure done on him, it was the first positive procedure. It was the first thing they did that indicated he was on the road to a cure.
The day was beautiful. I had packed us a healthy lunch. We knew Chris was coming home. I forgot the stroller! I was a bit miffed at that, but… the bathrooms were open!
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