I don't usually post twice in a day. But since I haven't kept up with posting daily, anyway, I might as well post twice in a day when I can.
Tonight was the salve for my angst earlier. I had our monthly book discussion group tonight.
We talked about our pathetic county and economics, about the school situation that is boiling right now, about Walmart moving in, about a private joke that I now own from a former club meeting, and yes, we even talked about the book some :)
You see, even though some of the books are books that I'm not sure I should be reading, truth be told there are movies the equivalent which I have seen, so I guess I can't be too harsh on myself. But what I've found is that I actually have a home here in the library club. A place where people are getting to know the "real" ME. I feel odd saying my pseudonym, but for sake of, people of getting to know Prism again. The Prism that people knew in high school and college. The one hiding behind the face of "Pumpkin's Mom" and "the coach's Wife." The Prism that I feel comfortable with.
I love the fact that there is a private joke relating to me in this groups, slightly off-color and embarrassing though it may be. It's mine, and it fits me, and I'm glad. It makes me feel part of something. Everyone in this group thinks of me on a regular basis because of this joke. And I like that.
Not very often do I see these people in town, but when I do, I'm glad I know them. Most wouldn't fit into my "best friends" kind of person that I'd search out. We disagree on God, on economics, on politics, on which books to read, etc. But we all find a way to share our opinions in a kind way, often a humorous way. We share our interests and our personalities in an hour and a half. And I love it.
I feel part of this town, this community. I feel like "one of us." Most share my view and distaste of Warren, and I'm glad to know I'm not the only one choosing to live here and yet wondering why I'm living HERE. Or more accurately, why HERE can't be like other places, since it's not so bad otherwise.
And I even met another Christian there tonight. She came for the first time. She's a pastor's wife with two very young children. So I'm hoping that maybe there will be something there. If not her, maybe someone she knows. But she seemed very understanding and I just opened up to her. My only regret is that I talk too much about myself in my desire to be known, and when normally I would shut up and listen I now keep going on in the hopes that a light bulb will go on in the other person's face and I'll know I've found that bosom friend.
I know that's not how it works, but as in my previous post, I'm just plain desperate.
But the most interesting thing to me is something I discovered when I was a kid. It was the very same thing that almost made me walk away from God, and I can't say that I don't feel the same pull at this time in my life.
At a time when it seems so hard to be a Christian and practice the things I want to practice. "Hippy" things, as I call them. Things that if I were NOT a Christian would be no problem for us as a family to carry out. There would be no criticism from people that meant anything to me. The only criticism I listen to is the kind that says I am not following God's Will or best, etc. If I wasn't a Christian, I wouldn't care what they thought, and I'd be fine following my heart.
At a time when I'm searching for my identity as a mother and wife and yet wanting to retain the original me, and no one seems to want to take the time to KNOW the original me....
I find that at a little library for and hour and a half each month, there's at least 5 other ladies who are getting to know me. And not just KNOW me, but appreciate me. ME. ALL of me. They don't make fun of me. They laugh WITH me. They like me.
And as I compare the time I had earlier, in which I do believe the ladies like me, I find that of the two, the one where I feel ACCEPTED at is in a group where only 2 at most would I call true believers (all of them attend church, I believe.) And yet they accept me and make me feel welcome, come all.
Whereas at church I feel parts of me are not so welcome. And this isn't the first. Growing up I always prayed for a good Christian friend, and instead I'd get lots of people who liked me, but didn't so much like my God. But they were there for me when the kids at church wouldn't include me. They were accepting of my quirkiness and humor and personality, and the church kids just thought I was a nerd and weird.
Why is it that all my life I've fit in more with the unsaved crowd, and that the saved crowd, the very one that is supposed to be a refuge, causes me to feel "odd" and "different." I'm always afraid to be MYSELF in front of them. Not so with the unsaved. They don't judge because they don't have a standard to live up to.
Not that they don't judge ever, or that they accept everything and everybody. But in general I find they are more open to being who you are, and Christians still seem to have an idea of what you are supposed to BE.
And maybe I'm reading it wrong, but as Dr. Phil says, it's the feelings that count. If you are feeling a certain way, even if it's not true, you need to do something so that you don't feel that way anymore. In a marriage, for example, if a wife FEELS that her hubby isn't spending enough time, but he knows he's sacrificing as it is...it doesn't matter. She doesn't FEEL that it's enough, so he needs to do something to show her how much she means. He doesn't even necessarily have to spend MORE time with her, but maybe make the time spent more quality. Or do something special each week that won't be interrupted, etc.
And so even if the ladies at church DO accept me, the truth of the matter is that I don't FEEL accepted. I don't feel the same acceptance that I get from the library group. The library group WANTS me there, they invite me to their homes. Not so with the church group.
And I still wonder, "WHY???"
Why, when I'm doubting my faith and questioning my God, do the people who don't know Him welcome me with open arms, and the people who claim to follow Him more or less "let" me in?
And if it weren't for God speaking rather clearly to me ONCE in my life as a teenager, and if it weren't for my husband who turned to God later in life and I respect that he is not stupid, then I'd be more than doubting right now. I'd be long gone.
And I hate saying that. But it's where I am right now. I feel like Gideon and throwing out the fleece once again. But even though God answered Gideon more than once, I don't know that He'd do it for me. Of course, I wasn't so sure He'd do it the first time, either.....
One of the darkest points in my life, maybe actually the darkest, truthfully, was when I was a freshman in high school. Our church was having a youth convention with another church (at our church) and we had signed up for a couple girls to spend the night at our house. Well, that night the preacher was great, but when he started saying prophetic (actually, it's wasn't prophetic, it was more that he spoke about them, that God was speaking to them through him, but I can't remember what this is called) words about different people, and I so desperately wished God would speak about me. But He didn't.
And as I went to bed that night, I just cried. All my life I had been in a Christian school and at church, and no one had befriended me. And my first few months in a public school and I had lots of friends and everyone seemed to like me. And I thought, if this is the way God takes care of His people, I don't want anything to do with it. And I thought of the people who He had talked to that night, and I basically told God that I wanted Him to touch ME, too. I knew He was real because there was too much evidence for me to believe otherwise. But I didn't think he knew *I* existed. So if He didn't touch ME, personally, then that was it. I'd rather go to hell. What was the point? Why serve a God who didn't know I existed? So my last prayer as I fell to sleep was, "God, touch me."
Next day I was numb. No feelings. No hurt. I was empty and uncaring. I had walked away from God and didn't know what my life would be like, but I didn't care. I hadn't read the papers we were sent home with, which ending up being a twist on the Velvetine Rabbit story. I didn't know the story talked about a rabbit who received a touch from God.
But as the pastor spoke that day, it was as if God was confirming that He had heard me. Without me seeing that paper, He had prepared the talk for that day to be about "touch," the same word I had used. I was in awe and very nervous. When he started to pray, he mentioned that two types of people where there that day, I can't remember what the first group was, but the second was, "and those who need a touch from God."
I had never gone to the alter before. I got saved when I was 5 and didn't care about being in front of people. So I was afraid of what people would think of the Good Two Shoes going to get prayed for. But I knew I had to go, so I did.
I was the first person the pastor prayed for. And since at that time I hadn't been tarnished by over-emotional churches who insist that one must fall over to receive the Holy Spirit, I was not alarmed when I felt a pushing on my forehead. I didn't think about falling over or anything, I just thought he was praying hard and fervently for me. To this day, I'm not sure if he was even touching me, but if not, then that was the only time in my life that I honestly felt the power of God in a physical sense, and since I DO believe that people can be slain (it happened to Saul/Paul), I believe He is able to touch us in that way. Just not as much as people make it to be.
Anyway, the only part of the prayer I remember is that he said that "God sees you. He knows you. ..........He will use your compassion for people to reach them." And of course I cried knowing that my God had actually heard me and loved me....
And I DO, or did, have compassion for people. I want to believe that was a true word from God. But I don't know how to use it when I can't even get people to meet with me.
Which brings me full circle and back in the same seat I was then. Friends that don't believe in God, and people who believe in God that aren't my TRUE friends. And this time I KNOW God knows me, so instead I'm just asking WHY?
Does He still have a plan? What is it? When will I know it? Why do I make friends more easily with these types of people? Am I too worldly? Am I supposed to be a light to them? What does that entail?
But for now, I will just be happy with the fun I had, the laughs I shared. The affirmation that Prism is a person people can like and want to be around. That I'm ME, and people like ME. And maybe, someday soon, hopefully, I'll understand why it's them and not the others. But for now, I'm happy I'm liked for being the person I still believe God made me to be.
Monday, February 27, 2006
What Is Wrong With Me???
***WARNING!!!*** This post contains adult topics...
I know this refrain is getting old. It's getting old for me, too. I wish it would stop. All go away. I get tired of it. Tired of the questioning. Tired of the wondering, the wanting to know the WHY. The forbidden fruit, I guess.
I'm tired of feeling like a freak. Of being different. Of wondering why I am the way I am and no one else is this way. Tired of waiting for someone who actually understands or GETS me.
And today I possible made a major fool of myself in a desperate attempt to find answers. Only when I am at my breaking points do I let my guard down and get real with people. And I always regret it. Only when I can't take it anymore will you see me shed a tear in your presence.
Unfortunately, since having Pumpkin it seems I am always vulnerable. Always on the verge of tears and losing it. Always at the bottom of the pit.
I don't understand God. I don't understand the Bible. I don't understand what I'm supposed to do, who I'm supposed to be, how I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to pass on to my own children.
I don't know why I have a HUGE guilt complex. But I do. I have the need, or the desire...the DRIVE to confess all my deepest darkest sins and secrets to the public, so they know who I REALLY am. It doesn't matter that God knows...I feel like a deceiver. It's not like the sins I have hidden haven't been done before. They aren't even bad on a scale of the worst. But they are unknown, and that bothers me.
I don't know why I have to be good all the time. I like to know what the "right" thing is so I can do it, and do it perfectly. I know when I have failed, and if I want to, I will not fail.
I don't know why I question everything now. Why I can't seem to accept that anything is okay, that what I feel in my heart truly IS the way God wants me to do things. Why I can't shut off the voices in my head, on the computer, in the books, on the T.V., in the magazine, at the church. The voices that each have a convincing reason that I am wrong regardless of the choice I make. Each can use scripture or studies showing the impact if I am wrong.
Why can't I read scripture and feel like it speaks to ME??? Why is it I only find more questions, nagging, relentless questions about the God I serve and what He expects from me? What am I doing wrong that makes it so I can't hear His voice louder than the others?
And if I shut them all out...so that perhaps I hear the still small voice, I am afraid He won't be there. Or if I DO think I hear...then when I encounter a voice, immediately they tell me that I am way off. Again.
I have been reading through the Bible with our church, chronologically, and it's very difficult for me so far. I see why people think that the stories are myth because, frankly, it's hard to know how to know these things REALLY happened. I am currently reading the fodder for those who believe God is harsh, unloving, and vengeful. Leviticus.
If there's another book that is as harsh as this, I don't look forward to it. I've read the Bible before, but not really dove into it, searching for answers. Thank goodness I already believe, shaken though I feel right now, because this would make me walk away for good, thank you very much.
Why did God kill Aaron's sons? Why was the punishment for certain sins death, and other similar sins simply ex-comunication? Why were women regarded as more unclean than men (male births made women unclean for 7 days, female births for 14 ? ) I don't understand. I want to know WHY?
Why is it that if it's an attitude thing, which is what I'm told, that David, who had a repentant heart, was given TIME to repent, but not Ananias and Saphira? (spelling may be off, I'm not checking the names right now because I'm laying my heart out here, forgive me.) I don't understand. I want to know WHY?
I want to know what God planned for families. What marital love was meant to be like. Were Adam and Eve told how to make love, the secrets of their bodies? Or did they have to discover it? And was Adam such a terrific lover that he discovered her pleasures on day one, or was she like many (Christian, mostly) woman today who wait years into their marriage before they realize how they work?
Was Eve terrified of giving birth, unknowing and unsure? Did she panic as waves of pain overcame her? What, exactly, was different from the original plan of giving birth, since most other mammals give birth as we do???
Did Adam and Eve hold their child, sleep with their child, or shove it off and ignore it's cries, realizing that "it would be okay" and "it needed to learn that the world doesn't revolve around it?"
Personally, I think God DID tell Adam and Eve a few secrets about love making. Maybe I'm way off, goodness knows it seems to be that way a lot. But if He told them how to tend a garden, and what animals are, etc. WHY IN THE WORLD would he leave them to be frustrated trying (fun as it may be) to discover something that seems JUST out of their reach?
I read about Eastern women who are trained in the art of love making so they will be a pleasing wife to their future husband. They don't have sex, they are just told HOW to have sex. Maybe this is wrong. I don't know. But what I DO know is that surely they have a better time on their honeymoon than couples where the bride is so shy she leaves the lights off all night long for goodness sakes. Between the two, I'd say God would want us to ENJOY the gift of sex, not hide from it like schoolgirls.
I've read about tribal women who are in rhythm with their bodies during labor. They sway, the women around them sway, in a belly dance, in tune with nature and birth. She is calm, relaxed. She gives birth without fear, or panic. Then there's the Western way. Fear so strong we immerse ourselves in a medicine to shut out all feeling, not even aware of the power within our bodies, bringing our children from within to without. The passage of life, and we are separated from it by a needle, or a knife.
In many cultures children are a part of daily life. Not something to be separated into other beds, other rooms, into buildings for learning. They are carried to work, they aren't left with sitters. Many cultures have one bedroom houses, where families sleep together. Babies are conceived while their siblings are sleeping. In this culture, one would be crude and inappropriate to do such a thing.
So I don't know where to go. I want my daughter to embrace her sexuality. Not with other people before she's married, but with all abandon after she's married. I don't want her to go years without realizing that females can have orgasms. But how do I tell her? Am I allowed to tell her?
I found out most of what I knew from the internet while I was engaged. I didn't know about books like Kevin Leman's "Sheet Music." So I looked stuff up on the net. And I learned what I wanted to know. And I had fun discovering how it worked once I was married. Though I was also tempted and found out some before.
So I know I don't want to go too far with my daughter. But what IS too far? Does God really want us to send our children into marriage not knowing that a female can orgasm? Since let's face it, most men know that THEY can orgasm. Some women don't even know what the word MEANS before they are married. How much of a shock do we let them have?
Yes, it could be a VERY pleasant thing to be surprised in a marriage. To be innocent. But how do you balance that with enough knowledge to let them be open and expecting, instead of shocked and horrified? Our men obviously go into it ready and willing. Why shouldn't our women? Why is it wrong to teach our children HOW to have sex (I'm not sure WHEN to teach them if it's okay, I'm just asking...)? We teach them how to sew, cook, clean, fix things. But SEX? Well, that should be discussed by the couple to be only....
And that's why we have the problems we do. Couples who don't consummate the marriage two years into it still. Couples who only have sex to procreate, creating a frustration I don't even want to contemplate.
And the fact that I brought all this up at the Apples of Gold meeting today means that no one there will ever think of me the same again.
Yes, I'm open. Open minded, for that matter. And yes, I suppose I am weird. To them. To you. To whoever thinks so.
It started with gift-giving. I talked about how gifts are my love language, and somehow the fact that I gave a "Tampon Angel" as a gift to my secret sister last year came up. After laughing about a few jokes in that regard, I mentioned cloth menstrual pads. At first everyone was laughing hysterically, until they realized that I MEANT it. That *I* used cloth pads, and made my own. Of course I got looked at like I was an alien or something, because they had never heard of it.
I can't blame them. First time I heard of many of the things I do I thought they were strange things too. But I guess the reason I told them was because I keep hoping that someone will want to know WHO I AM. Who I REALLY am. What makes me different. What makes me me. And so I brought it up so they would have another piece to the picture that is me.
And they laughed. And even after I explained it, I'm not sure what they thought. But I know that now I wish I hadn't said anything. Wish I hadn't mentioned my struggle to understand the difference between right and wrong. Wish I hadn't revealed a part of me that is still very vulnerable to criticism.
But I did. It's out there, and I can't take it back. And I hope they don't think I'm a freak now.
I mentioned my struggle with trying to figure out how to justify that the Quiverfull mentality is not right, but most didn't understand what the Quiverfull mentality WAS. (For the record, I've come to the conclusion that I don't feel God anywhere implies that we are not allowed to know and use our reproductive cycle in order to PREVENT or TRY to have kids. If one trusts in God to give children when HE wants them, we are saying that He goes against the natural laws He put into the universe. He allows rape to make a baby, yet that's not His ultimate will. He knows it will happen, but it didn't happen because He wanted it to, but because He allowed nature to take it's course. The same line of reasoning is what the Christian Scientists use to allow disease to consume them, even when there is a known medical cure. If we TRULY trust God, wouldn't we all just let our kids die of something that is curable??? So goes with our fertility. God allows us to learn our cycle for a reason, I believe.)
Anyway, they told me that if I question, then I'm okay. That that means I'm searching for God's Will. But for me it's not enough, and I wish it was. I wish I could glance just ONCE through God's eyes and see the big picture from His vantage point.
I wish I could stop over analyzing everything and everyone. But when I talk to those who can't get past our Western thinking, I feel like I'm overboard. And when I talk with those who adapt to Eastern or other cultural values, I'm too strict with my faith.
So where does God fall? Why is it that the more natural, the more gentle things, the things that seem to make more sense with a loving God and with a perfect earth, are the things that Christians are least likely to do? Where is the middle ground, and how do I find it?
I DON'T want to screw up my kids. I don't. I don't want to turn them into hippies who experiment with things because we should be okay with who we are. But I also don't want them to feel like me. Trapped by unseen rules. Guilty even when innocent. I want them to be proud of who they are, who God made them to be.
But how will they know what that is if I can't even find who God made ME to be?
What is wrong with me?????????????
I know this refrain is getting old. It's getting old for me, too. I wish it would stop. All go away. I get tired of it. Tired of the questioning. Tired of the wondering, the wanting to know the WHY. The forbidden fruit, I guess.
I'm tired of feeling like a freak. Of being different. Of wondering why I am the way I am and no one else is this way. Tired of waiting for someone who actually understands or GETS me.
And today I possible made a major fool of myself in a desperate attempt to find answers. Only when I am at my breaking points do I let my guard down and get real with people. And I always regret it. Only when I can't take it anymore will you see me shed a tear in your presence.
Unfortunately, since having Pumpkin it seems I am always vulnerable. Always on the verge of tears and losing it. Always at the bottom of the pit.
I don't understand God. I don't understand the Bible. I don't understand what I'm supposed to do, who I'm supposed to be, how I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to pass on to my own children.
I don't know why I have a HUGE guilt complex. But I do. I have the need, or the desire...the DRIVE to confess all my deepest darkest sins and secrets to the public, so they know who I REALLY am. It doesn't matter that God knows...I feel like a deceiver. It's not like the sins I have hidden haven't been done before. They aren't even bad on a scale of the worst. But they are unknown, and that bothers me.
I don't know why I have to be good all the time. I like to know what the "right" thing is so I can do it, and do it perfectly. I know when I have failed, and if I want to, I will not fail.
I don't know why I question everything now. Why I can't seem to accept that anything is okay, that what I feel in my heart truly IS the way God wants me to do things. Why I can't shut off the voices in my head, on the computer, in the books, on the T.V., in the magazine, at the church. The voices that each have a convincing reason that I am wrong regardless of the choice I make. Each can use scripture or studies showing the impact if I am wrong.
Why can't I read scripture and feel like it speaks to ME??? Why is it I only find more questions, nagging, relentless questions about the God I serve and what He expects from me? What am I doing wrong that makes it so I can't hear His voice louder than the others?
And if I shut them all out...so that perhaps I hear the still small voice, I am afraid He won't be there. Or if I DO think I hear...then when I encounter a voice, immediately they tell me that I am way off. Again.
I have been reading through the Bible with our church, chronologically, and it's very difficult for me so far. I see why people think that the stories are myth because, frankly, it's hard to know how to know these things REALLY happened. I am currently reading the fodder for those who believe God is harsh, unloving, and vengeful. Leviticus.
If there's another book that is as harsh as this, I don't look forward to it. I've read the Bible before, but not really dove into it, searching for answers. Thank goodness I already believe, shaken though I feel right now, because this would make me walk away for good, thank you very much.
Why did God kill Aaron's sons? Why was the punishment for certain sins death, and other similar sins simply ex-comunication? Why were women regarded as more unclean than men (male births made women unclean for 7 days, female births for 14 ? ) I don't understand. I want to know WHY?
Why is it that if it's an attitude thing, which is what I'm told, that David, who had a repentant heart, was given TIME to repent, but not Ananias and Saphira? (spelling may be off, I'm not checking the names right now because I'm laying my heart out here, forgive me.) I don't understand. I want to know WHY?
I want to know what God planned for families. What marital love was meant to be like. Were Adam and Eve told how to make love, the secrets of their bodies? Or did they have to discover it? And was Adam such a terrific lover that he discovered her pleasures on day one, or was she like many (Christian, mostly) woman today who wait years into their marriage before they realize how they work?
Was Eve terrified of giving birth, unknowing and unsure? Did she panic as waves of pain overcame her? What, exactly, was different from the original plan of giving birth, since most other mammals give birth as we do???
Did Adam and Eve hold their child, sleep with their child, or shove it off and ignore it's cries, realizing that "it would be okay" and "it needed to learn that the world doesn't revolve around it?"
Personally, I think God DID tell Adam and Eve a few secrets about love making. Maybe I'm way off, goodness knows it seems to be that way a lot. But if He told them how to tend a garden, and what animals are, etc. WHY IN THE WORLD would he leave them to be frustrated trying (fun as it may be) to discover something that seems JUST out of their reach?
I read about Eastern women who are trained in the art of love making so they will be a pleasing wife to their future husband. They don't have sex, they are just told HOW to have sex. Maybe this is wrong. I don't know. But what I DO know is that surely they have a better time on their honeymoon than couples where the bride is so shy she leaves the lights off all night long for goodness sakes. Between the two, I'd say God would want us to ENJOY the gift of sex, not hide from it like schoolgirls.
I've read about tribal women who are in rhythm with their bodies during labor. They sway, the women around them sway, in a belly dance, in tune with nature and birth. She is calm, relaxed. She gives birth without fear, or panic. Then there's the Western way. Fear so strong we immerse ourselves in a medicine to shut out all feeling, not even aware of the power within our bodies, bringing our children from within to without. The passage of life, and we are separated from it by a needle, or a knife.
In many cultures children are a part of daily life. Not something to be separated into other beds, other rooms, into buildings for learning. They are carried to work, they aren't left with sitters. Many cultures have one bedroom houses, where families sleep together. Babies are conceived while their siblings are sleeping. In this culture, one would be crude and inappropriate to do such a thing.
So I don't know where to go. I want my daughter to embrace her sexuality. Not with other people before she's married, but with all abandon after she's married. I don't want her to go years without realizing that females can have orgasms. But how do I tell her? Am I allowed to tell her?
I found out most of what I knew from the internet while I was engaged. I didn't know about books like Kevin Leman's "Sheet Music." So I looked stuff up on the net. And I learned what I wanted to know. And I had fun discovering how it worked once I was married. Though I was also tempted and found out some before.
So I know I don't want to go too far with my daughter. But what IS too far? Does God really want us to send our children into marriage not knowing that a female can orgasm? Since let's face it, most men know that THEY can orgasm. Some women don't even know what the word MEANS before they are married. How much of a shock do we let them have?
Yes, it could be a VERY pleasant thing to be surprised in a marriage. To be innocent. But how do you balance that with enough knowledge to let them be open and expecting, instead of shocked and horrified? Our men obviously go into it ready and willing. Why shouldn't our women? Why is it wrong to teach our children HOW to have sex (I'm not sure WHEN to teach them if it's okay, I'm just asking...)? We teach them how to sew, cook, clean, fix things. But SEX? Well, that should be discussed by the couple to be only....
And that's why we have the problems we do. Couples who don't consummate the marriage two years into it still. Couples who only have sex to procreate, creating a frustration I don't even want to contemplate.
And the fact that I brought all this up at the Apples of Gold meeting today means that no one there will ever think of me the same again.
Yes, I'm open. Open minded, for that matter. And yes, I suppose I am weird. To them. To you. To whoever thinks so.
It started with gift-giving. I talked about how gifts are my love language, and somehow the fact that I gave a "Tampon Angel" as a gift to my secret sister last year came up. After laughing about a few jokes in that regard, I mentioned cloth menstrual pads. At first everyone was laughing hysterically, until they realized that I MEANT it. That *I* used cloth pads, and made my own. Of course I got looked at like I was an alien or something, because they had never heard of it.
I can't blame them. First time I heard of many of the things I do I thought they were strange things too. But I guess the reason I told them was because I keep hoping that someone will want to know WHO I AM. Who I REALLY am. What makes me different. What makes me me. And so I brought it up so they would have another piece to the picture that is me.
And they laughed. And even after I explained it, I'm not sure what they thought. But I know that now I wish I hadn't said anything. Wish I hadn't mentioned my struggle to understand the difference between right and wrong. Wish I hadn't revealed a part of me that is still very vulnerable to criticism.
But I did. It's out there, and I can't take it back. And I hope they don't think I'm a freak now.
I mentioned my struggle with trying to figure out how to justify that the Quiverfull mentality is not right, but most didn't understand what the Quiverfull mentality WAS. (For the record, I've come to the conclusion that I don't feel God anywhere implies that we are not allowed to know and use our reproductive cycle in order to PREVENT or TRY to have kids. If one trusts in God to give children when HE wants them, we are saying that He goes against the natural laws He put into the universe. He allows rape to make a baby, yet that's not His ultimate will. He knows it will happen, but it didn't happen because He wanted it to, but because He allowed nature to take it's course. The same line of reasoning is what the Christian Scientists use to allow disease to consume them, even when there is a known medical cure. If we TRULY trust God, wouldn't we all just let our kids die of something that is curable??? So goes with our fertility. God allows us to learn our cycle for a reason, I believe.)
Anyway, they told me that if I question, then I'm okay. That that means I'm searching for God's Will. But for me it's not enough, and I wish it was. I wish I could glance just ONCE through God's eyes and see the big picture from His vantage point.
I wish I could stop over analyzing everything and everyone. But when I talk to those who can't get past our Western thinking, I feel like I'm overboard. And when I talk with those who adapt to Eastern or other cultural values, I'm too strict with my faith.
So where does God fall? Why is it that the more natural, the more gentle things, the things that seem to make more sense with a loving God and with a perfect earth, are the things that Christians are least likely to do? Where is the middle ground, and how do I find it?
I DON'T want to screw up my kids. I don't. I don't want to turn them into hippies who experiment with things because we should be okay with who we are. But I also don't want them to feel like me. Trapped by unseen rules. Guilty even when innocent. I want them to be proud of who they are, who God made them to be.
But how will they know what that is if I can't even find who God made ME to be?
What is wrong with me?????????????
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
A Trip Down Memory Lane
It's 3 AM and I'm still awake. I don't think I've slept yet. So my hope is to put my thoughts down so I can sleep!
I've decided that when I can't come up with anything else to blog about, I'll start posting stories about my past. Memories that are pleasant and make me smile, though also make me sad with nostalgia.
Tonight as we lay in bed to go to sleep, I reminded Boom that there is a picture wedged between our bed and the wall that the kids knocked down several weeks ago. The bed is very heavy (homemade) and can't be moved away from the wall very easily.
He asked me which picture it was, and I told him the one with me with long hair and him in a white tee, and he said, "Oh, the church picture." I knew he'd remember, but it was still nice to hear him say it.
The picture was taken for a directory for the small church we attended while living in Pittsburgh. I remembered the day and the picture being taken. Boom remembered the room we were in. And I started remembering our short time at probably our most favorite, or close to, churches we've ever been in together.
The year was 1996. I had moved to Pittsburgh to go to Pittsburgh Technical Institute for Graphic Design. The term started in October (it went all year so the terms were different from 4-year schools) and I had moved in with my then-best-friend in a little apartment up on Mt. Washington, right next to the old South Hills High School.
My parents and I looked in the phone book under a certain denomination that was similar to the church I grew up in, and we found one that looked promising (only God could have planned it so that the first church I tried I stuck with for 2 years!) What we didn't know is how much work I'd spend just getting there and back.
I didn't have a car until just before I started dating Boom (my parents leased a Saturn for me at that time.) So I had to either walk, ride a bus, or take the "T" where ever I wanted to go.
For church, that meant all three. After I got ready I walked down to the "T" station, and since I knew what time the "T" came, I didn't wait too long. Then I got off at Gateway Center and walked across the street to wait for the bus.
I usually waited around 15 to 20 minutes for the bus. I don't even remember how I did this in the winter! Things seemed so much more milder back then!
Anyway, the only problem I ever had with the bus was when this old Greek Orthodox guy started taking the same bus from the same stop. The first time I met him he was talking to me and wouldn't stop. Casual questions. Not your run-of-the-mill stranger questions. And when a car pulled up to the curb to ask for directions, he literally held my arm very tightly and pulled me back as I tried to talk to the couple. So when I got on the bus, I should have know better, but we all have to learn sometime.
I took a seat next to the window; I loved looking out windows. And wouldn't you know it, the old guy sat next to me. Well, before long even though I kept trying to avoid his talking, he placed a hand on my thigh. This of course made me EXTREMELY uncomfortable, but short of embarrassing myself I didn't know what to do. Thank goodness his stop was not far off, and he got off at a Greek Orthodox church with his Greek Orthodox newspaper, and his Greek Orthodox accent. I hoped that would be the last I'd see of him, but alas, I eventually had to stand on the opposite side of the bus stop until I saw the bus coming, and I never took a window seat again.
When the bus arrived at the street the church was on, another 20 minutes later, I walked about a block to the entrance. I loved walking in because I was enveloped by handshakes and hugs. I loved the friendliness of our church. But more, I loved the worship.
I know it's not everyone's style. And I understand why. But I love the charismatic, Pentecostal type worship that goes on and on. I was so ready for it after a week of being with no Christians at all. (let's face it, when I tried to join a Christian group at school, and the leader of the group was wearing a "Big Johnson" tee-shirt, I knew I wasn't going to fit it...) I opened up and poured out my emotions to God.
And then the sermon. I loved hearing our pastor speak. He was animated, unlike most of the pastors I've enjoyed since. You couldn't fall asleep during his sermon, because you were too interested and he kept his voice alive the whole time. And he used object lesson, the first time I'd seen so many. I love them! The two I remember most are the "priorities in a jar" one, with rocks, pebbles, sand and water fitting into a jar better when you put the big things in your life in first, and when he put a tent of sorts up for one of the Jewish holidays (don't remember which one, I'd have to ask my dad.)
That tent is what makes me want to celebrate the traditional Jewish holidays with my own family someday. At any rate, he always had good sermons and I always went home thinking about them the rest of the day.
After church I didn't get to stay to mingle. I didn't have a watch and I needed to catch the next bus, whenever it came.
Usually that meant later than sooner. If church let out a little early, I'd catch the one bus. But if it let out later, then I'd wait a half hour or more for the next one. It was a very lonely wait. Not a big bus stop. Just a small spot on a normal neighborhood sidewalk on the North Side. (looking back it was odd that I attended a church on the North Side. It was known that many blacks lived in the North Side, and many didn't like white people being there. It also was known as the not-so-good neighborhood of Pittsburgh. I never had a single problem while there...)
On the bus ride back, it was even longer because of a different route. On the way TO church, we went right past the Three Rivers Stadium (oh! how I hated to see that place go!) I saw all the people with their Terrible Towels on game day, and I wanted to be them just once, someday...
On the bus ride back, I saw the homeless on their benches or pushing their grocery cart through town with bare feet. It was depressing in downtown on Sundays. The only places open were McDonald's and Subway type places. It was like a ghost town.
Most Sunday's I went straight home. But one Sunday I met a girl at church from my school, a most unlikely place for meeting this particular girl. She had been waiting for someone, but they never showed, so she rode home with me. We ate at Subway and talked about God a little. I hardly knew her, but here I was eating with her at Subway and talking about church! At home, she lit up a clove cigarette, and I thought that if I ever were the type to smoke, that would be what I'd smoke, since it smelled so good...like some better pipe smoke I've smelled.
But most days I went into the Wood Street "T" station and waited another 15-20 minutes before a "T' came to take me home.
At home I always felt down. My best friend had only attended church with me the first time I went. She wanted to be a Christian, but wasn't ready, she said. She wanted to find a good Christian guy to date, she joined Bible Quizzing. But she wouldn't go to church. So I was alone. I had no one to discuss the sermon with...the thoughts that were in my head. I felt like the only Christian on earth in those moments.
I'd usually relax on the afternoons, enjoying the sunlight coming into our apartment. Oh!, how I miss that! I loved the way the sun poured in and the view of the neighborhood we could see from our back porch on our second story apartment. I miss it terribly at times! I've felt the urge when we have visited the city to drive to that apartment and knock and beg to walk upstairs just one more time. But I don't think I'd handle it too well. I'm tearing up just thinking about it...I miss it...
But this whole routine changed on my first "date" with Boom. I invited him to go with me to Easter Sunday at church if he wanted, since I wouldn't date a non-Christian, and even though he believed in God, I knew he didn't live it and I wanted to show him that church wasn't what he thought it was.
By this time I had the car, so I picked Boom up from the South Side where he lived, and he saw me in a dress for the first time and gave me an Easter basket, my first since I was a little girl. (The large chocolate bunny melted by the time we came out of church :) ) We drove to the church for the first time sine I started attending there, and wouldn't you know it? It was only 10 minutes away! TEN minutes from my house to the church! I had been going there for almost 2 years and had taken an hour or more each way every Sunday...and I was only 10 minutes away by car...
After Boom started attending with me, we got more involved. We joined a couples' small group, and I started teaching a class for 3 and 4 year olds. We even participated in a huge Christmas production called "The Gospel According to Scrooge." It was the best put-together and hardest worked-after play/musical I've seen or been a part of in a church. We put it on for 3 nights in a row two weeks in a row. It was 2 hours and had an intermission. Boom played Marley, and I had a small part because I'm kind of shy :)
It was amazing the difference between the church that I only attended on Sundays because I was a slave to the Public Transportation system, and the church that I attended as much as I was able with a car. I had never even seen the other rooms in the church before. Never met all the other people before. I finally felt at home!
And I still miss it. When we moved the next time we went to the church was a year later when we were in Pittsburgh for a wedding. Our one couple friend had a one-year-old by then, and in general life had gone one without us. It was very hard for me. I hadn't wanted to leave, and in many ways I still miss it so very much that it hurts.
I don't understand why God calls us to certain places sometimes. Why He takes what we hold dear and allows it to be removed from our lives. People lose children, spouses, houses, and more. I lost Pittsburgh.
I know that it's not where God wants me, at least not right now, and maybe not ever. But it will forever be a place that exists in my heart with fondness. There aren't too many bad memories of that city. Most were the most happiest moments of my life. I can still feel them, smell them...though I can't always see them so clearly anymore. Most of all, the pain of leaving is still so strong that I wonder if something is wrong with me.
I am sitting her with tears streaming down my face and my heart aching for things that can never be. And why??? Why can't I find the same happiness here? Why haven't I had fun times and good friends here? Why don't the moments with my children, who are GREAT kids, compare to the moments I had there?
I want to be happy with what I have. I feel ashamed to think that my better memories are before I got married and had kids. What does that say about me? What kind of wife and mother am I?
I sincerely hope it is simply because I was carefree then. Without bills to pay, without diapers to change, without houses to repair and friends to make. I want to make good memories with my family. I try hard to do so. I struggle so much with the feelings of discontentedness. I don't want my family to think that they make me sad...
Which is one reason I practice Attachment Parenting and plan to unschool. I want to make good memories and be connected to my children and for them to remember good things growing up. I enjoy spending time with Boom vs. time without him. I don't feel the need to "get away" from my family....just the need to "get away" in general. I can't wait until vacations are easier with the kids. When they are old enough to enjoy traveling and seeing museums and go hiking without being carried or pushed in a stroller.
And one thing is for sure. They will know Pittsburgh. They will walk on the bridges their parents confessed their love on. They will eat in the places we ate. They will look upon the city that conceived them. For without Pittsburgh, they wouldn't be.
I've decided that when I can't come up with anything else to blog about, I'll start posting stories about my past. Memories that are pleasant and make me smile, though also make me sad with nostalgia.
Tonight as we lay in bed to go to sleep, I reminded Boom that there is a picture wedged between our bed and the wall that the kids knocked down several weeks ago. The bed is very heavy (homemade) and can't be moved away from the wall very easily.
He asked me which picture it was, and I told him the one with me with long hair and him in a white tee, and he said, "Oh, the church picture." I knew he'd remember, but it was still nice to hear him say it.
The picture was taken for a directory for the small church we attended while living in Pittsburgh. I remembered the day and the picture being taken. Boom remembered the room we were in. And I started remembering our short time at probably our most favorite, or close to, churches we've ever been in together.
The year was 1996. I had moved to Pittsburgh to go to Pittsburgh Technical Institute for Graphic Design. The term started in October (it went all year so the terms were different from 4-year schools) and I had moved in with my then-best-friend in a little apartment up on Mt. Washington, right next to the old South Hills High School.
My parents and I looked in the phone book under a certain denomination that was similar to the church I grew up in, and we found one that looked promising (only God could have planned it so that the first church I tried I stuck with for 2 years!) What we didn't know is how much work I'd spend just getting there and back.
I didn't have a car until just before I started dating Boom (my parents leased a Saturn for me at that time.) So I had to either walk, ride a bus, or take the "T" where ever I wanted to go.
For church, that meant all three. After I got ready I walked down to the "T" station, and since I knew what time the "T" came, I didn't wait too long. Then I got off at Gateway Center and walked across the street to wait for the bus.
I usually waited around 15 to 20 minutes for the bus. I don't even remember how I did this in the winter! Things seemed so much more milder back then!
Anyway, the only problem I ever had with the bus was when this old Greek Orthodox guy started taking the same bus from the same stop. The first time I met him he was talking to me and wouldn't stop. Casual questions. Not your run-of-the-mill stranger questions. And when a car pulled up to the curb to ask for directions, he literally held my arm very tightly and pulled me back as I tried to talk to the couple. So when I got on the bus, I should have know better, but we all have to learn sometime.
I took a seat next to the window; I loved looking out windows. And wouldn't you know it, the old guy sat next to me. Well, before long even though I kept trying to avoid his talking, he placed a hand on my thigh. This of course made me EXTREMELY uncomfortable, but short of embarrassing myself I didn't know what to do. Thank goodness his stop was not far off, and he got off at a Greek Orthodox church with his Greek Orthodox newspaper, and his Greek Orthodox accent. I hoped that would be the last I'd see of him, but alas, I eventually had to stand on the opposite side of the bus stop until I saw the bus coming, and I never took a window seat again.
When the bus arrived at the street the church was on, another 20 minutes later, I walked about a block to the entrance. I loved walking in because I was enveloped by handshakes and hugs. I loved the friendliness of our church. But more, I loved the worship.
I know it's not everyone's style. And I understand why. But I love the charismatic, Pentecostal type worship that goes on and on. I was so ready for it after a week of being with no Christians at all. (let's face it, when I tried to join a Christian group at school, and the leader of the group was wearing a "Big Johnson" tee-shirt, I knew I wasn't going to fit it...) I opened up and poured out my emotions to God.
And then the sermon. I loved hearing our pastor speak. He was animated, unlike most of the pastors I've enjoyed since. You couldn't fall asleep during his sermon, because you were too interested and he kept his voice alive the whole time. And he used object lesson, the first time I'd seen so many. I love them! The two I remember most are the "priorities in a jar" one, with rocks, pebbles, sand and water fitting into a jar better when you put the big things in your life in first, and when he put a tent of sorts up for one of the Jewish holidays (don't remember which one, I'd have to ask my dad.)
That tent is what makes me want to celebrate the traditional Jewish holidays with my own family someday. At any rate, he always had good sermons and I always went home thinking about them the rest of the day.
After church I didn't get to stay to mingle. I didn't have a watch and I needed to catch the next bus, whenever it came.
Usually that meant later than sooner. If church let out a little early, I'd catch the one bus. But if it let out later, then I'd wait a half hour or more for the next one. It was a very lonely wait. Not a big bus stop. Just a small spot on a normal neighborhood sidewalk on the North Side. (looking back it was odd that I attended a church on the North Side. It was known that many blacks lived in the North Side, and many didn't like white people being there. It also was known as the not-so-good neighborhood of Pittsburgh. I never had a single problem while there...)
On the bus ride back, it was even longer because of a different route. On the way TO church, we went right past the Three Rivers Stadium (oh! how I hated to see that place go!) I saw all the people with their Terrible Towels on game day, and I wanted to be them just once, someday...
On the bus ride back, I saw the homeless on their benches or pushing their grocery cart through town with bare feet. It was depressing in downtown on Sundays. The only places open were McDonald's and Subway type places. It was like a ghost town.
Most Sunday's I went straight home. But one Sunday I met a girl at church from my school, a most unlikely place for meeting this particular girl. She had been waiting for someone, but they never showed, so she rode home with me. We ate at Subway and talked about God a little. I hardly knew her, but here I was eating with her at Subway and talking about church! At home, she lit up a clove cigarette, and I thought that if I ever were the type to smoke, that would be what I'd smoke, since it smelled so good...like some better pipe smoke I've smelled.
But most days I went into the Wood Street "T" station and waited another 15-20 minutes before a "T' came to take me home.
At home I always felt down. My best friend had only attended church with me the first time I went. She wanted to be a Christian, but wasn't ready, she said. She wanted to find a good Christian guy to date, she joined Bible Quizzing. But she wouldn't go to church. So I was alone. I had no one to discuss the sermon with...the thoughts that were in my head. I felt like the only Christian on earth in those moments.
I'd usually relax on the afternoons, enjoying the sunlight coming into our apartment. Oh!, how I miss that! I loved the way the sun poured in and the view of the neighborhood we could see from our back porch on our second story apartment. I miss it terribly at times! I've felt the urge when we have visited the city to drive to that apartment and knock and beg to walk upstairs just one more time. But I don't think I'd handle it too well. I'm tearing up just thinking about it...I miss it...
But this whole routine changed on my first "date" with Boom. I invited him to go with me to Easter Sunday at church if he wanted, since I wouldn't date a non-Christian, and even though he believed in God, I knew he didn't live it and I wanted to show him that church wasn't what he thought it was.
By this time I had the car, so I picked Boom up from the South Side where he lived, and he saw me in a dress for the first time and gave me an Easter basket, my first since I was a little girl. (The large chocolate bunny melted by the time we came out of church :) ) We drove to the church for the first time sine I started attending there, and wouldn't you know it? It was only 10 minutes away! TEN minutes from my house to the church! I had been going there for almost 2 years and had taken an hour or more each way every Sunday...and I was only 10 minutes away by car...
After Boom started attending with me, we got more involved. We joined a couples' small group, and I started teaching a class for 3 and 4 year olds. We even participated in a huge Christmas production called "The Gospel According to Scrooge." It was the best put-together and hardest worked-after play/musical I've seen or been a part of in a church. We put it on for 3 nights in a row two weeks in a row. It was 2 hours and had an intermission. Boom played Marley, and I had a small part because I'm kind of shy :)
It was amazing the difference between the church that I only attended on Sundays because I was a slave to the Public Transportation system, and the church that I attended as much as I was able with a car. I had never even seen the other rooms in the church before. Never met all the other people before. I finally felt at home!
And I still miss it. When we moved the next time we went to the church was a year later when we were in Pittsburgh for a wedding. Our one couple friend had a one-year-old by then, and in general life had gone one without us. It was very hard for me. I hadn't wanted to leave, and in many ways I still miss it so very much that it hurts.
I don't understand why God calls us to certain places sometimes. Why He takes what we hold dear and allows it to be removed from our lives. People lose children, spouses, houses, and more. I lost Pittsburgh.
I know that it's not where God wants me, at least not right now, and maybe not ever. But it will forever be a place that exists in my heart with fondness. There aren't too many bad memories of that city. Most were the most happiest moments of my life. I can still feel them, smell them...though I can't always see them so clearly anymore. Most of all, the pain of leaving is still so strong that I wonder if something is wrong with me.
I am sitting her with tears streaming down my face and my heart aching for things that can never be. And why??? Why can't I find the same happiness here? Why haven't I had fun times and good friends here? Why don't the moments with my children, who are GREAT kids, compare to the moments I had there?
I want to be happy with what I have. I feel ashamed to think that my better memories are before I got married and had kids. What does that say about me? What kind of wife and mother am I?
I sincerely hope it is simply because I was carefree then. Without bills to pay, without diapers to change, without houses to repair and friends to make. I want to make good memories with my family. I try hard to do so. I struggle so much with the feelings of discontentedness. I don't want my family to think that they make me sad...
Which is one reason I practice Attachment Parenting and plan to unschool. I want to make good memories and be connected to my children and for them to remember good things growing up. I enjoy spending time with Boom vs. time without him. I don't feel the need to "get away" from my family....just the need to "get away" in general. I can't wait until vacations are easier with the kids. When they are old enough to enjoy traveling and seeing museums and go hiking without being carried or pushed in a stroller.
And one thing is for sure. They will know Pittsburgh. They will walk on the bridges their parents confessed their love on. They will eat in the places we ate. They will look upon the city that conceived them. For without Pittsburgh, they wouldn't be.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Dinosaurs & Digital Depression
It seems my daughter has taken an interest in her father's lifelong love of dinosaurs. When Boom was young he was banned from the school library because he always took out dinosaur books all the time. So he took one without borrowing once, and forgot about it. He doesn't know what happened to it, but he does remember studying those books with a passion only the young full of curiosity possess.
And now Pumpkin is in love with The Land Before Time, The Ice Age, and the book Oh My! Oh My! Oh DINOSAURS!. She's loved the book since the beginning, the Land Before Time the first time she saw it. And when just recently she watched The Ice Age, she proceeded to watch it 20 more times that week.
Tonight I was hoping to visit with my BIL and his girlfriend and their new baby, but they wanted some time alone, so I'm alone tonight, as well. Boom is watching a basketball game that "his" boys are playing in (he doesn't go to many at all, so I don't mind.)
But I'm lonely, anyway. I like going to visit people, and I wanted company tonight. They didn't tell me until 5 that they weren't going to get together, so I was hoping all day that we were. Good thing we had a good night last night getting Little Caeser's Pizza (cheapest around, no Papa John's, so we can't be choosy) and watching Survivor (yes, I'm one of THOSE people.)
But I've been depressed for a week or so now. I get sucked into the vacuum of friendlessness and I can't get out. I have kids and a husband who need me all the time, and others who don't need me at all. I pulled too much here, not enough there. I feel worthless.
And to top it off, I can't progress in my ceramic pursuit because it turns out we need an electrical overhaul to get the right amperage in our house, and since it might be pricey we'll probably try to get it with the grant money along with the sewage that's getting put in, but in order to do so we can't do the work until the grant is approved, which won't be until late May at the earliest, which means I probably won't have a kiln working until Summer, at the soonest.
And I could keep making stuff, but the chances of them getting broken are great since I don't have tons of shelf space (though Boom did build me a nice shelf for starters) and I don't want to risk transporting again. So I feel stuck there, too.
On a lighter note, we are way behind technologically in this house. The only reason we have a DVD player is because last Christmas we used a Baby Gift Card for SEARS to buy a DVD player (trust me, he'll appreciate it more than the two outfits we could have bought instead.) But our computer, a hand-me-down from my dad, which is newer than my laptop from college, is so old that we can't download music from the web, I can't get blogging stuff to work with Microsoft Word, and I can't get those programs that organize and upload pics to the web to work right on it. Maybe some of it is other stuff besides the old age of our computer, but I can't tell.
Anyway, tonight I noticed that even my daughter will start noticing our lack of up-to-datedness. I took a picture of the two of them eating at our kitchen counter, using my 35mm camera, the only one I have. After I took the picture, Pumpkin frowns and says, "Mommy, I want to see my picture!"
Now, 20 years ago or so this may have meant a poloroid, and a few years ago this would have been mistaken for a request to see the developed picture instantly, but I know it actually means that most of our friends and family have digital cameras and enjoy showing all the toddlers their own picture that they just took.
So even my three year old knows that we are behind the times, and for her sake, I'll try to change that in the next, oh, decade, or so.
And now Pumpkin is in love with The Land Before Time, The Ice Age, and the book Oh My! Oh My! Oh DINOSAURS!. She's loved the book since the beginning, the Land Before Time the first time she saw it. And when just recently she watched The Ice Age, she proceeded to watch it 20 more times that week.
Tonight I was hoping to visit with my BIL and his girlfriend and their new baby, but they wanted some time alone, so I'm alone tonight, as well. Boom is watching a basketball game that "his" boys are playing in (he doesn't go to many at all, so I don't mind.)
But I'm lonely, anyway. I like going to visit people, and I wanted company tonight. They didn't tell me until 5 that they weren't going to get together, so I was hoping all day that we were. Good thing we had a good night last night getting Little Caeser's Pizza (cheapest around, no Papa John's, so we can't be choosy) and watching Survivor (yes, I'm one of THOSE people.)
But I've been depressed for a week or so now. I get sucked into the vacuum of friendlessness and I can't get out. I have kids and a husband who need me all the time, and others who don't need me at all. I pulled too much here, not enough there. I feel worthless.
And to top it off, I can't progress in my ceramic pursuit because it turns out we need an electrical overhaul to get the right amperage in our house, and since it might be pricey we'll probably try to get it with the grant money along with the sewage that's getting put in, but in order to do so we can't do the work until the grant is approved, which won't be until late May at the earliest, which means I probably won't have a kiln working until Summer, at the soonest.
And I could keep making stuff, but the chances of them getting broken are great since I don't have tons of shelf space (though Boom did build me a nice shelf for starters) and I don't want to risk transporting again. So I feel stuck there, too.
On a lighter note, we are way behind technologically in this house. The only reason we have a DVD player is because last Christmas we used a Baby Gift Card for SEARS to buy a DVD player (trust me, he'll appreciate it more than the two outfits we could have bought instead.) But our computer, a hand-me-down from my dad, which is newer than my laptop from college, is so old that we can't download music from the web, I can't get blogging stuff to work with Microsoft Word, and I can't get those programs that organize and upload pics to the web to work right on it. Maybe some of it is other stuff besides the old age of our computer, but I can't tell.
Anyway, tonight I noticed that even my daughter will start noticing our lack of up-to-datedness. I took a picture of the two of them eating at our kitchen counter, using my 35mm camera, the only one I have. After I took the picture, Pumpkin frowns and says, "Mommy, I want to see my picture!"
Now, 20 years ago or so this may have meant a poloroid, and a few years ago this would have been mistaken for a request to see the developed picture instantly, but I know it actually means that most of our friends and family have digital cameras and enjoy showing all the toddlers their own picture that they just took.
So even my three year old knows that we are behind the times, and for her sake, I'll try to change that in the next, oh, decade, or so.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
June Cleaver, I Am Not
Pumpkin discovered an ancient item hiding behind our bathroom door this evening as we were getting ready for bed.
She pointed at it and exclaimed excitedly, "Look! It's a skateboard!"
"No," I said, "it's an ironing board."
"Yes!" She was still breathless, "an ironing board for the ocean!" Which in pre-schooler-speak means "surf board."
I don't even know how she knows what a skateboard or surfboard are (and they say those satellite programs fry their brains) but it's apparent she has NO IDEA what an ironing board is used for.
Which means either we never get any wrinkles in this house, or we don't have expensive enough clothes, or I just don't care. Can you guess which one(s)?
She pointed at it and exclaimed excitedly, "Look! It's a skateboard!"
"No," I said, "it's an ironing board."
"Yes!" She was still breathless, "an ironing board for the ocean!" Which in pre-schooler-speak means "surf board."
I don't even know how she knows what a skateboard or surfboard are (and they say those satellite programs fry their brains) but it's apparent she has NO IDEA what an ironing board is used for.
Which means either we never get any wrinkles in this house, or we don't have expensive enough clothes, or I just don't care. Can you guess which one(s)?
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Hobbies & Hankies
Well, I got to take my bisque out of the kiln while it was still 117 degrees (cool enough to touch by hand, but Oh!, so toasty!) I was very pleased with the results, even thought my elephants had broken ears. It was so cool to see the clay turned white, and nothing else broke that wasn't broken before it went in, which means I at least have SOME technique down. I also got some wax resist, latex resist, and kiln cement from her (along with a face mask the day before.)
I was so excited I showed off my first mug, which I'll keep for myself as a reminder of my journey, and I still liked it the best, to my neighbor and my in-laws at a birthday party last night. The one mug that just had a chipped ear was my second favorite, and perhaps best done technique-wise, so I'll be able to exchange it with the group.
But I am so exited that my ideas that I couldn't have drawn on paper if my life depended on it, and wouldn't have been possible with polymer clay, are not permanently etched in time in a medium that has been around sine the beginning of time. It's an awesome feeling!
I wouldn't mind carving in wood, or stone. But I can't take away from something to reveal the art within. I can only build up to what I see in my head.
But speaking of of wood cutting, Boom braved the garage and went back to his own version of Lincoln Logs today and is still out there finishing them so the kids can have them no later than tomorrow morning. I'm very proud of him, though for the first time somewhat nervous that he's out there. My dad worked with saws all my life, and never once got seriously hurt. (Actually, I don't think he's ever been seriously hurt in any way...) So I never thought to worry. Now that luxury is gone, but I'm glad he's managed to work past it and enjoy himself again.
And, hey, that means I'm this much closer to him building my wheel! I'm not ashamed of ulterior motives!
But our weekend has been sidelined in part because Rugger's come down with a nasty cold that has him clinging to me most of today, and sleeping only in fits the last two night, with last night being so bad that only me holding him helped him at all, which meant no sleep for me. You'd think with co-sleeping that I wouldn't mind holding a child, but in truth I don't like to touch anyone while sleeping and hate it if they are facing me and breathing. Paranoid about breathing in too much CO2. So while I held him and he'd finally fall asleep, I'm doomed to try and lay him down beside me, where he then rolls over to be as close to me, so I slide him over and try to be at his back, and he rolls around again. And this is repeated until the morning when he wakes up crying, and then continues to cry, nurse, and sleep the rest of the day.
At least he ate supper just now, but I dread tonight yet again. This is one of the many reasons I am not planning on more kids any time soon, if ever. I couldn't deal with this and being pregnant, or nursing. As it was, Pumpkin was asking for attention all day and I couldn't help her, and she of course wants ME, not Daddy, just like Rugger does. And there's only ONE me...*sigh*
I was so excited I showed off my first mug, which I'll keep for myself as a reminder of my journey, and I still liked it the best, to my neighbor and my in-laws at a birthday party last night. The one mug that just had a chipped ear was my second favorite, and perhaps best done technique-wise, so I'll be able to exchange it with the group.
But I am so exited that my ideas that I couldn't have drawn on paper if my life depended on it, and wouldn't have been possible with polymer clay, are not permanently etched in time in a medium that has been around sine the beginning of time. It's an awesome feeling!
I wouldn't mind carving in wood, or stone. But I can't take away from something to reveal the art within. I can only build up to what I see in my head.
But speaking of of wood cutting, Boom braved the garage and went back to his own version of Lincoln Logs today and is still out there finishing them so the kids can have them no later than tomorrow morning. I'm very proud of him, though for the first time somewhat nervous that he's out there. My dad worked with saws all my life, and never once got seriously hurt. (Actually, I don't think he's ever been seriously hurt in any way...) So I never thought to worry. Now that luxury is gone, but I'm glad he's managed to work past it and enjoy himself again.
And, hey, that means I'm this much closer to him building my wheel! I'm not ashamed of ulterior motives!
But our weekend has been sidelined in part because Rugger's come down with a nasty cold that has him clinging to me most of today, and sleeping only in fits the last two night, with last night being so bad that only me holding him helped him at all, which meant no sleep for me. You'd think with co-sleeping that I wouldn't mind holding a child, but in truth I don't like to touch anyone while sleeping and hate it if they are facing me and breathing. Paranoid about breathing in too much CO2. So while I held him and he'd finally fall asleep, I'm doomed to try and lay him down beside me, where he then rolls over to be as close to me, so I slide him over and try to be at his back, and he rolls around again. And this is repeated until the morning when he wakes up crying, and then continues to cry, nurse, and sleep the rest of the day.
At least he ate supper just now, but I dread tonight yet again. This is one of the many reasons I am not planning on more kids any time soon, if ever. I couldn't deal with this and being pregnant, or nursing. As it was, Pumpkin was asking for attention all day and I couldn't help her, and she of course wants ME, not Daddy, just like Rugger does. And there's only ONE me...*sigh*
Thursday, January 19, 2006
That's the Way the Clay Crumbles
Well, I guess every potter experiences disappointment during their never-ending pursuit of clay and it's mesmerizing qualities. But I had hoped that at least my first try would be tested IN the fire, not before.
The Yahoo Groups I'm in (Pottery Basics) decided to do a Mug Exchange, which I was so excited for. I knew my potter friend was going to do a bisque firing soon, and so I started making some mugs right away. I came up with the idea of an African mug with an elephant head with it's trunk as the handle.
So I stated wedging, rolling, cutting, scoring, slipping, smoothing, attaching, wetting, and drying. I trashed 3 mugs before they were even done, and kept 5 altogether (one which probably should have joined the trash heap.)
So for a few days I admired my elephants, proud that they didn't completely resemble a mud heap assembled by a toddler. I would at least be able to give a decent, if not perfect, mug to the exchange.
Of course, there was the kiln issue. Maybe a handle would crack or break off. Or worse. But I didn't let that worry me. I figured they seemed pretty strong and I knew I did most of the work "correctly," so they SHOULD come out of the kiln okay.
But then I had to get them ready to transport over to my friend's house. I took pictures with my neighbors professional digital camera "just in case" and then tried to pack them as gently as I could with bubble wrap. Well, I broke one thing on one of my sculptures, but no biggie. I fixed it, knowing it might not hold but not too concerned, since it was the mugs I really wanted to be perfect.
So I drive over to her house the next day, and as I unpack my mugs, the first one's ear is broke on one side. I hadn't even realized that even gently wrapping them had damaged them. As I unpacked the rest, I kept hoping that at least ONE mug was still intact. It wasn't. They all had damaged ears. I was so down, but my friend just said we could fix it later with epoxy. I didn't want to fix it. Truth be told, if I had the time to fire more, I would. I want good mugs, not broken mugs.
But now I know that greenware is not just fragile when bumped, but fragile in general. It's amazing, actually. You have this piece of bone dry pottery sitting on your shelf. It looks real. It feels real. But it's just a pile of dust shaped into a mug, or sculpture, or something. Add water and you get slush. Drop it and you get a pile of dust. Bump it and it shatters.
It's almost like magic that adding a thousand degrees of heat to this same pile of dust will transform it to a strong piece of pottery.
And yet, mine didn't get a chance to be transformed. They were put to the fire without being fixed. And now I have to decide if I give away a less than perfect mug. (the folks at Pottery Basics are being very kind and say they'd still love one, bless their hearts.)
But it pains me to even give it. I wanted a GOOD mug, not a broken one. I want my own kiln hooked up. And my wheel, while they're at it. Summer can't come soon enough.
Here are the pics of the bone dry greenware the night before disaster. The mugs will turn out white after firing, then I'll underglaze paint them and then add a clear glaze over it.
The Yahoo Groups I'm in (Pottery Basics) decided to do a Mug Exchange, which I was so excited for. I knew my potter friend was going to do a bisque firing soon, and so I started making some mugs right away. I came up with the idea of an African mug with an elephant head with it's trunk as the handle.
So I stated wedging, rolling, cutting, scoring, slipping, smoothing, attaching, wetting, and drying. I trashed 3 mugs before they were even done, and kept 5 altogether (one which probably should have joined the trash heap.)
So for a few days I admired my elephants, proud that they didn't completely resemble a mud heap assembled by a toddler. I would at least be able to give a decent, if not perfect, mug to the exchange.
Of course, there was the kiln issue. Maybe a handle would crack or break off. Or worse. But I didn't let that worry me. I figured they seemed pretty strong and I knew I did most of the work "correctly," so they SHOULD come out of the kiln okay.
But then I had to get them ready to transport over to my friend's house. I took pictures with my neighbors professional digital camera "just in case" and then tried to pack them as gently as I could with bubble wrap. Well, I broke one thing on one of my sculptures, but no biggie. I fixed it, knowing it might not hold but not too concerned, since it was the mugs I really wanted to be perfect.
So I drive over to her house the next day, and as I unpack my mugs, the first one's ear is broke on one side. I hadn't even realized that even gently wrapping them had damaged them. As I unpacked the rest, I kept hoping that at least ONE mug was still intact. It wasn't. They all had damaged ears. I was so down, but my friend just said we could fix it later with epoxy. I didn't want to fix it. Truth be told, if I had the time to fire more, I would. I want good mugs, not broken mugs.
But now I know that greenware is not just fragile when bumped, but fragile in general. It's amazing, actually. You have this piece of bone dry pottery sitting on your shelf. It looks real. It feels real. But it's just a pile of dust shaped into a mug, or sculpture, or something. Add water and you get slush. Drop it and you get a pile of dust. Bump it and it shatters.
It's almost like magic that adding a thousand degrees of heat to this same pile of dust will transform it to a strong piece of pottery.
And yet, mine didn't get a chance to be transformed. They were put to the fire without being fixed. And now I have to decide if I give away a less than perfect mug. (the folks at Pottery Basics are being very kind and say they'd still love one, bless their hearts.)
But it pains me to even give it. I wanted a GOOD mug, not a broken one. I want my own kiln hooked up. And my wheel, while they're at it. Summer can't come soon enough.
Here are the pics of the bone dry greenware the night before disaster. The mugs will turn out white after firing, then I'll underglaze paint them and then add a clear glaze over it.
I just hope that the rest of the firing went well. I'm expecting to find out tomorrow...
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Indian Summer Thaws the Emotions
As I write this, the weather is gorgeous. It feels like Spring and the sun is out. My heart wants to soar. But like many other such days, there are thoughts that snag me and hold me down. Thoughts I'm not even sure are okay, but I don't want to let them go. Not yet, anyway.
I don't know why, but on days like this I find my thoughts straying to Indian Summer days back in the Steel City. I most often recollect my trot down to the "T" station, down the hill, the many steps, and the platform. And other times I recall the jot home - up the hill and stairs, or up the incline and over the hill, past shops and apartments and the old shut down high school...I remember feeling not a care in the world. I was confident, comfortable, and content.
Why do the trees and fields not excite me the way sidewalks and glass windows did? Why do I enjoy the silent glow of city lights and not the empty light of the moon on a clear night? Why do I even long for something I know I cannot have? I have never loved another man, but I cannot help feeling that this is what it must be like...to have loved another once before but know you can never return.
I know that it wouldn't be the same. Even at the end it wasn't the same. I missed downtown, I missed not driving, and I missed walking everywhere. I missed my friends and going to school. And I know I don't want my kids raised in the city...at least, I don't think I do. But many times I think of all the places we could go and all the things we could do that aren't even available here in our rural dwellings.
Some people dream of sipping tea on an old porch swing. I don't mind that, but I'm more of a Starbucks person (if I were the kind who drank tea or coffee.)
And then there's the friendship thing. I'll get into why this came up later, since most days I'm able to push it way down until I forget it's there...
WHY is it I don't have a great Christian friend to do things with? A friend who wants to and sets aside time to get together at least every other week. Who can encourage me in my walk with God, and who actually understands me as a person. I guess I am lucky that Boom is all those things. He is my best friend and so much more, and I'm glad he truly "gets" me. But I want a GIRL friend, a mommy friend. Someone to joke with, cry with, stay up late and talk with. I know that "it's hard when you have little ones." But I don't buy that. I've made efforts - I've made the time, and I've made the phone calls. But I seem to have more time and more desire than anyone else, apparently. Or maybe I'm just boring and desperate, I don't know.
I have friends, per se. But they don't know the whole me. They don't save a place for me at get togethers. They don't call me up just to chat. The don't even invite me over. I mentioned it at a Bible study meeting I just joined, and as we discussed it, I thought, "Don't any of you even realize that I'm begging, pleading, here...and not one of you is volunteering to be a friend to me." They tell me I have to make the effort and that I need more than one friend, etc. Yet not one offered to be another friend to me.
What is it about me? Have I changed that much since becoming a mom that no one wants to be around me? The only mom's I had been friends with until they left me cold and crying with a newborn were women who were always taking from me...my time, my advice, my pity, whatever. They complained about spouses, boyfriends, etc. I listened, I felt better about my lot, but I got no encouragement for myself. Nothing to take home to keep me warm.
I truly want to give to others. It's what I used to do well. But I feel like I've given so much that there isn't anything left. No one's filled MY love tank. My husband can only do so much and hear the same stuff so many times. I get tired of telling him about it over and over. I want someone who can go shopping with me and tell me what looks good on me. I want someone who will go to a movie with me and discuss it afterwards. Someone to go to the park with, someone who trades days doing playgroups at our houses, someone who sees the world in a similar way as I do.
Apparently it's too much to ask.
Anyway, this Bible study is called Apples of Gold, it's by Focus on the Family, and Renewing the Heart, written by Betty Huizenga.
At first I was really excited. It's a class that teaches you how to cook, and incorporates a Bible study, and you learn how to open up your home and be good at hospitality. And since I discovered through a Networking class at our old church in Edinboro that I might have a gift for hospitality (which makes sense being as I love being around people, and I love entertaining) I thought this would be perfect.
Well, we had a good time, until the friend issue was brought up. But there was one thing in the study that didn't jive with me. And after I got home and skimmed through the rest of the book, it looks like many more things won't jive with me.
I don't know if it's because of my tendency of finding fault with things, or if it's something else, but now I'm not looking forward to hearing in the other classes all the stuff I'm not doing "right." With this book, frugality is almost out, looks are VERY important (which just doesn't jive with me), and she puts out the idea that if you don't do things just so, you won't really be honoring God when you entertain people in your home.
So now I'm wondering if A)I DON'T have a gift of hospitality after all, or B) if once again someone is taking an idea from God and adding their own ideas but it makes it sound like God is saying it, if that makes sense.
Similar to the way I see Dobson sometimes. I appreciate his stance on the family and Christian values, but there are so many things that I do as a parent, or don't do, that he basically says are being lenient and even detrimental (his word, not mine) to the development of my children. I disagree, and it angers me that people may think that GOD wants us to raise our children in a certain way, when in truth it's just Dobson.
For example, it's obvious that the author does not do a family bed (or room, as is our case right now) and that's okay, but she talks about how to make the bedroom a sanctuary to retreat to, and to have a lock on the door, etc. Well, our kids are in the bedroom, it's relaxing enough for us, etc. Same with my looks and that of my house. My husband is fine with both, and says so (Yes, I do ask him.) He doesn't mind me wearing sweats, as he wants to wear them at home, as well. He's more affectionate with me in the morning with bed head hair and "kitten" breath as he says, than when I'm all dolled up. Call me lucky, but my point is that I don't think making things look pretty all the time is necessarily a Godly thing. Not a bad thing, by any means, but not necessarily a command, if you will.
Especially with all my Crunchy Mamas and Unschooling ideas....which are SO far from outward looks and neat homes....I'm trying to find what I think is a good balance, and the minute I accept that natural is okay, I read this book and think, "great...so now what do I do?"
They used the example of what if Christ walked into your home...truth be told, I wouldn't buy a toothbrush in case he forgot (it happens.) If I don't have a mirror so he can see the back of his head, I'm sure he'll live. I'll have clean sheets (pretty, maybe not) and a fresh bar of soap. But to be honest, I wouldn't change anything else in my home because I'm pretty sure He'd be more interested in ME than my house.
Maybe I'm wrong (it's been known to happen.) I don't know.
And then I think about the fact that the author got this great calling from God to do this book and class, and I wish that God would speak to me like that. Because I feel that I'm supposed to do SOMETHING with my love for people. And now with clay, I may have found a way.
Similar to what she does, but focused more on the people (she says it's a pampering for the women, but when you feel guilty about how you do things, the pampering seems more like a scam...) I've thought of having a Clay party of some sort (what to call it, I don't know.) Eventually if it got going I'd have to charge for the materials and firing time, but at first I'd do it for free. I'd invite all my friends and let them play in the clay, showing them a few tips. Then they leave their pieces and I fire them. Then they return to paint their pieces, and again I fire them for them.
My idea is that somehow we just let our barriers down and talk. Really talk. About anything and everything, and I make some new friends. And I could actually incorporate a study into it, since it's pottery and the Bible has several verses about God being the potter, us the clay, and you can come up with so many cool allegories from that alone.
But then I wonder if it's just a stupid idea instead of a seed planted. And by criticizing another's obvious success with another similar program, maybe it's just jealousy.
So today I just kept thinking. And wishing. And hoping. And maybe someday I'll sort it all out, or it will all one day come together and be clear. But until then, I collect all my thoughts and store them once again in my mental Hope Chest, to be pulled out on another day such as this. When the warm breezes begin to blow on the parts of my that have grown cold...
I don't know why, but on days like this I find my thoughts straying to Indian Summer days back in the Steel City. I most often recollect my trot down to the "T" station, down the hill, the many steps, and the platform. And other times I recall the jot home - up the hill and stairs, or up the incline and over the hill, past shops and apartments and the old shut down high school...I remember feeling not a care in the world. I was confident, comfortable, and content.
Why do the trees and fields not excite me the way sidewalks and glass windows did? Why do I enjoy the silent glow of city lights and not the empty light of the moon on a clear night? Why do I even long for something I know I cannot have? I have never loved another man, but I cannot help feeling that this is what it must be like...to have loved another once before but know you can never return.
I know that it wouldn't be the same. Even at the end it wasn't the same. I missed downtown, I missed not driving, and I missed walking everywhere. I missed my friends and going to school. And I know I don't want my kids raised in the city...at least, I don't think I do. But many times I think of all the places we could go and all the things we could do that aren't even available here in our rural dwellings.
Some people dream of sipping tea on an old porch swing. I don't mind that, but I'm more of a Starbucks person (if I were the kind who drank tea or coffee.)
And then there's the friendship thing. I'll get into why this came up later, since most days I'm able to push it way down until I forget it's there...
WHY is it I don't have a great Christian friend to do things with? A friend who wants to and sets aside time to get together at least every other week. Who can encourage me in my walk with God, and who actually understands me as a person. I guess I am lucky that Boom is all those things. He is my best friend and so much more, and I'm glad he truly "gets" me. But I want a GIRL friend, a mommy friend. Someone to joke with, cry with, stay up late and talk with. I know that "it's hard when you have little ones." But I don't buy that. I've made efforts - I've made the time, and I've made the phone calls. But I seem to have more time and more desire than anyone else, apparently. Or maybe I'm just boring and desperate, I don't know.
I have friends, per se. But they don't know the whole me. They don't save a place for me at get togethers. They don't call me up just to chat. The don't even invite me over. I mentioned it at a Bible study meeting I just joined, and as we discussed it, I thought, "Don't any of you even realize that I'm begging, pleading, here...and not one of you is volunteering to be a friend to me." They tell me I have to make the effort and that I need more than one friend, etc. Yet not one offered to be another friend to me.
What is it about me? Have I changed that much since becoming a mom that no one wants to be around me? The only mom's I had been friends with until they left me cold and crying with a newborn were women who were always taking from me...my time, my advice, my pity, whatever. They complained about spouses, boyfriends, etc. I listened, I felt better about my lot, but I got no encouragement for myself. Nothing to take home to keep me warm.
I truly want to give to others. It's what I used to do well. But I feel like I've given so much that there isn't anything left. No one's filled MY love tank. My husband can only do so much and hear the same stuff so many times. I get tired of telling him about it over and over. I want someone who can go shopping with me and tell me what looks good on me. I want someone who will go to a movie with me and discuss it afterwards. Someone to go to the park with, someone who trades days doing playgroups at our houses, someone who sees the world in a similar way as I do.
Apparently it's too much to ask.
Anyway, this Bible study is called Apples of Gold, it's by Focus on the Family, and Renewing the Heart, written by Betty Huizenga.
At first I was really excited. It's a class that teaches you how to cook, and incorporates a Bible study, and you learn how to open up your home and be good at hospitality. And since I discovered through a Networking class at our old church in Edinboro that I might have a gift for hospitality (which makes sense being as I love being around people, and I love entertaining) I thought this would be perfect.
Well, we had a good time, until the friend issue was brought up. But there was one thing in the study that didn't jive with me. And after I got home and skimmed through the rest of the book, it looks like many more things won't jive with me.
I don't know if it's because of my tendency of finding fault with things, or if it's something else, but now I'm not looking forward to hearing in the other classes all the stuff I'm not doing "right." With this book, frugality is almost out, looks are VERY important (which just doesn't jive with me), and she puts out the idea that if you don't do things just so, you won't really be honoring God when you entertain people in your home.
So now I'm wondering if A)I DON'T have a gift of hospitality after all, or B) if once again someone is taking an idea from God and adding their own ideas but it makes it sound like God is saying it, if that makes sense.
Similar to the way I see Dobson sometimes. I appreciate his stance on the family and Christian values, but there are so many things that I do as a parent, or don't do, that he basically says are being lenient and even detrimental (his word, not mine) to the development of my children. I disagree, and it angers me that people may think that GOD wants us to raise our children in a certain way, when in truth it's just Dobson.
For example, it's obvious that the author does not do a family bed (or room, as is our case right now) and that's okay, but she talks about how to make the bedroom a sanctuary to retreat to, and to have a lock on the door, etc. Well, our kids are in the bedroom, it's relaxing enough for us, etc. Same with my looks and that of my house. My husband is fine with both, and says so (Yes, I do ask him.) He doesn't mind me wearing sweats, as he wants to wear them at home, as well. He's more affectionate with me in the morning with bed head hair and "kitten" breath as he says, than when I'm all dolled up. Call me lucky, but my point is that I don't think making things look pretty all the time is necessarily a Godly thing. Not a bad thing, by any means, but not necessarily a command, if you will.
Especially with all my Crunchy Mamas and Unschooling ideas....which are SO far from outward looks and neat homes....I'm trying to find what I think is a good balance, and the minute I accept that natural is okay, I read this book and think, "great...so now what do I do?"
They used the example of what if Christ walked into your home...truth be told, I wouldn't buy a toothbrush in case he forgot (it happens.) If I don't have a mirror so he can see the back of his head, I'm sure he'll live. I'll have clean sheets (pretty, maybe not) and a fresh bar of soap. But to be honest, I wouldn't change anything else in my home because I'm pretty sure He'd be more interested in ME than my house.
Maybe I'm wrong (it's been known to happen.) I don't know.
And then I think about the fact that the author got this great calling from God to do this book and class, and I wish that God would speak to me like that. Because I feel that I'm supposed to do SOMETHING with my love for people. And now with clay, I may have found a way.
Similar to what she does, but focused more on the people (she says it's a pampering for the women, but when you feel guilty about how you do things, the pampering seems more like a scam...) I've thought of having a Clay party of some sort (what to call it, I don't know.) Eventually if it got going I'd have to charge for the materials and firing time, but at first I'd do it for free. I'd invite all my friends and let them play in the clay, showing them a few tips. Then they leave their pieces and I fire them. Then they return to paint their pieces, and again I fire them for them.
My idea is that somehow we just let our barriers down and talk. Really talk. About anything and everything, and I make some new friends. And I could actually incorporate a study into it, since it's pottery and the Bible has several verses about God being the potter, us the clay, and you can come up with so many cool allegories from that alone.
But then I wonder if it's just a stupid idea instead of a seed planted. And by criticizing another's obvious success with another similar program, maybe it's just jealousy.
So today I just kept thinking. And wishing. And hoping. And maybe someday I'll sort it all out, or it will all one day come together and be clear. But until then, I collect all my thoughts and store them once again in my mental Hope Chest, to be pulled out on another day such as this. When the warm breezes begin to blow on the parts of my that have grown cold...
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Toddler Logic
Whoever thinks proofs in geometry are hard to figure out, they should try reasoning with a three year old:
At bedtime in our bedroom, tucked in and waiting for both kids to fall asleep. Pumpkin has a sippy cup which I tell her to drink just a little from so she won't have to go pee again...
"Mommy, can I have a drink?"
"Yes, you can have a drink."
Pause.
"Mommy, can I have 'too much'?"
(stifling laugh and a little irritation since it's late) "No, just drink a little bit, then go to sleep."
"I am asleep."
"No you aren't."
"Yes. I am!"
"No, you AREN'T! If you were asleep you wouldn't be talking."
"I'm not."
"Yes. You are."
"No I'm not. "
"Just close your eyes and go to sleep."
"I already did!"
At bedtime in our bedroom, tucked in and waiting for both kids to fall asleep. Pumpkin has a sippy cup which I tell her to drink just a little from so she won't have to go pee again...
"Mommy, can I have a drink?"
"Yes, you can have a drink."
Pause.
"Mommy, can I have 'too much'?"
(stifling laugh and a little irritation since it's late) "No, just drink a little bit, then go to sleep."
"I am asleep."
"No you aren't."
"Yes. I am!"
"No, you AREN'T! If you were asleep you wouldn't be talking."
"I'm not."
"Yes. You are."
"No I'm not. "
"Just close your eyes and go to sleep."
"I already did!"
Sunday, January 01, 2006
The Accident That Almost Was
Well, Christmas was good this year, with the exception of too many toys once again. I swear that they have gotten combined 50 to 100 toys this year alone (or last year, as it's officially 2006 now!)
Anyway, we had a good break, good visit with my family etc. And things WERE going great on our return, until Boom decided to tempt fate...
Boom was excited about being in his barn/garage thing out back, with a fire in the old stove and music on, happily trying to carve out some of his own version of Lincoln Logs since the kids got some for Christmas. After a few prototypes, he brought in his first perfect pieces, smiling like a school boy. I went back to my cleaning and rotating of toys hoping to get rid of a least a FEW...
Next thing I know I hear Boom screaming outside (I was upstairs and could still hear him from the closed windows up there.) I immediately thought of the table saw and my heart stopped and my stomach churned. I flew down the stairs where Boom was still yelling in agony and I asked what happened. All he could say was, "Help me!"
Now, I don't know how you are in emergency type situations, but I am as good a a lump of jello, only I don't even taste good. I basically panic, cry, and freeze up. So I asked him what I was supposed to do, was it a "911" type of thing, etc. He just kept groaning and holding his hand in the sink, which I wasn't about to go near.
Eventually he was able to get out that he needed something to wrap his hand in (I know, I know, how could I not know?!?!?) and luckily I could tell there wasn't much blood. But what I wouldn't have given to have something to help with the pain. A shot, a pill, SOMETHING. I thought that if only he were in labor I could help him breath, and how much more obvious to me it was that labor pain is not REAL pain in the sense of something being wrong...
Anyway, he confessed that he thought he lost his fingers, and wasn't even sure until he looked in the sink himself. He had shut the saw and radio off and run into the house. Luckily, his fingers were all there, though how bad we weren't really sure.
We wrapped them and to cut a long story short, he eventually went to the ER that night to make sure that he was getting it clean and wrapping it right. They couldn't do anything for him since the skin was just tore up pretty deep, but they cleaned it and gave him a script for antibiotics and a bad shot of antibiotics. So at least hopefully we won't have to worry about infection. I usually don't care for antibiotics, but in this case I didn't mind. Two of his fingers may never look the same again, but they are there, and for that we are thankful.
We were both shook up pretty bad, and Boom will be wary the first few times he uses anything sharp again, but we are glad for what DIDN'T happen.
So, we now look forward to a New Year full of possibilities, uncertainties, adventures, and probably a few tears. We are thankful for the blessings of God so apparent in our daily lives, and we are content. I don't know what this year will bring, but I pray that God will give us what we need through both the ups and the downs, and that we may learn ever more to depend on Him and show those around us the LOVE of Christ, and that we may ourselves be free from the guilt that binds so that we don't place guilt on others.
A Happy New Year to you and yours, as well.
Anyway, we had a good break, good visit with my family etc. And things WERE going great on our return, until Boom decided to tempt fate...
Boom was excited about being in his barn/garage thing out back, with a fire in the old stove and music on, happily trying to carve out some of his own version of Lincoln Logs since the kids got some for Christmas. After a few prototypes, he brought in his first perfect pieces, smiling like a school boy. I went back to my cleaning and rotating of toys hoping to get rid of a least a FEW...
Next thing I know I hear Boom screaming outside (I was upstairs and could still hear him from the closed windows up there.) I immediately thought of the table saw and my heart stopped and my stomach churned. I flew down the stairs where Boom was still yelling in agony and I asked what happened. All he could say was, "Help me!"
Now, I don't know how you are in emergency type situations, but I am as good a a lump of jello, only I don't even taste good. I basically panic, cry, and freeze up. So I asked him what I was supposed to do, was it a "911" type of thing, etc. He just kept groaning and holding his hand in the sink, which I wasn't about to go near.
Eventually he was able to get out that he needed something to wrap his hand in (I know, I know, how could I not know?!?!?) and luckily I could tell there wasn't much blood. But what I wouldn't have given to have something to help with the pain. A shot, a pill, SOMETHING. I thought that if only he were in labor I could help him breath, and how much more obvious to me it was that labor pain is not REAL pain in the sense of something being wrong...
Anyway, he confessed that he thought he lost his fingers, and wasn't even sure until he looked in the sink himself. He had shut the saw and radio off and run into the house. Luckily, his fingers were all there, though how bad we weren't really sure.
We wrapped them and to cut a long story short, he eventually went to the ER that night to make sure that he was getting it clean and wrapping it right. They couldn't do anything for him since the skin was just tore up pretty deep, but they cleaned it and gave him a script for antibiotics and a bad shot of antibiotics. So at least hopefully we won't have to worry about infection. I usually don't care for antibiotics, but in this case I didn't mind. Two of his fingers may never look the same again, but they are there, and for that we are thankful.
We were both shook up pretty bad, and Boom will be wary the first few times he uses anything sharp again, but we are glad for what DIDN'T happen.
So, we now look forward to a New Year full of possibilities, uncertainties, adventures, and probably a few tears. We are thankful for the blessings of God so apparent in our daily lives, and we are content. I don't know what this year will bring, but I pray that God will give us what we need through both the ups and the downs, and that we may learn ever more to depend on Him and show those around us the LOVE of Christ, and that we may ourselves be free from the guilt that binds so that we don't place guilt on others.
A Happy New Year to you and yours, as well.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
The Ghosts of Christmas...and other musings
Well, I know I haven't posted in awhile. I guess I figure my life is too boring to share with the world right now, though I will update you all (you all being the very small number who might actually be reading this.)
Thanksgiving was okay, but more depressing than normal. I was so hoping that now that there are two other babies at the family gathering (my sister didn't come since my nephew was only a few days old) I would feel more at ease with my own. But instead, I just felt the stark difference once again between my style of parenting and "everyone else's."
I was the only one who nursed my child, and he was 15 mo., their babies were 5 mo. old. As they talked about sleeping through the night or working on it, I mentioned that I STILL nurse my son every 3 hours at night, and got blank stares.
After the birth of my nephew (long story but I was emotionally down after that as well because of the differences in my choices vs. my sisters...not bad, just different, but I felt defeated) I was already feeling low, but after Thanksgiving I felt totally down. I cried for a whole day just wishing that for once in my life I wasn't "different" from everyone around me.
Ever since I was little I just wanted to fit in, be in the "in" crowd. But I never compromised WHO I was to do so (thank goodness!) However, it doesn't hurt any less now that I know I'm making the right choices for my family. I still want to belong to the majority, and I don't. Period.
But this last week I felt good. I had our reading club on Monday and got to chat and laugh. On Friday we did a small neighborhood (3 houses and one other neighbor) Progressive Dinner. I had a lot of fun with that! I was the Salads and the first stop, and we talked and talked that night! The kids had a blast as well. Pumpkin just plays right along with all her little friends now. She is SO social now! I love it!
I also went to see my one friend on Thursday last week, and I had fun. Though of course it was one of those days that you aren't supposed to drive unless you NEED to, so by the time I left for home, I was driving 30 mph on a 55 road, and cars were probably swearing behind me. But I CAN'T drive in winter! Sorry!
Pumpkin did two small songs with her preschool class at church, and was so cute. I was in a small skit before Thanksgiving, which I enjoyed, though I was sad because no one sat with us at the dinner, like usual. I just want a couple of REAL friends...is that all to ask? A couple of people who make an EFFORT to be with us, to talk to us, to keep in touch with us.
I don't have anyone who fits that description in my life right now, save the one friend I saw on Thursday, and there are issues with them not really understanding the Christian life since they didn't come from that kind of background and aren't with other believers ever to learn. So she is a great friend, but can't encourage me in my walk with God, yet.
Anyway, the rest of my life is same old, same old. Kids do cute stuff. I clean house. I play with clay but can't fire it because I don't have my kiln hooked up yet and am waiting to build the wheel because there's nowhere to put it yet.
On the positive side, I made Christmas cut out cookies a couple of days ago. I looked all day for a recipe that was hard and crunchy, like bakeries sell, but no such luck. I thought that Pumpkin's Cubbie's leader might have a recipe, since they frosted cookies in her class that were those crisp bakery cookies, but it turns out she bought the dough....from a bakery! So if anyone out there has a recipe for those crisp, hard bakery sugar cookies, PLEASE send them my way!
And now on to the reason for the title of this post (see, I got ya!)
Yesterday when Boom got to school, there were gifts waiting for him in front of another teacher's classroom (he thinks the gift-giver didn't' know which room was his.) There were three gifts, one marked from "The Ghost of Christmas Past" which had an expensive book called "What If" (collected version, where "Eminent Historians Imagine What Might Have Happened.") A second gift from "The Ghost of Christmas Present" included the Life Books "The War In Iraq." and the third gift from "The Ghost of Christmas Future" contained some thin mints, orange cream thin mints, peanut brittle, and "reindeer corn" (candy corn with Christmas colors.)
Boom thinks that it might have been his old History teacher that left the gift, based on the choice of books and lack of knowing where his room was. He thinks the football boosters wouldn't have left History stuff, but football stuff. So, we aren't really sure who it was. But I wish we could get together with his old history teacher. I loved talking to his wife. They are a neat couple. I wish I could say the same for their sons, but alas, I only knew Boom's best friend since we've been together, and most of his good memories with him happened before.
So that's my life in the last two months in a nut shell. Hope you sort of enjoyed it. I did.
Thanksgiving was okay, but more depressing than normal. I was so hoping that now that there are two other babies at the family gathering (my sister didn't come since my nephew was only a few days old) I would feel more at ease with my own. But instead, I just felt the stark difference once again between my style of parenting and "everyone else's."
I was the only one who nursed my child, and he was 15 mo., their babies were 5 mo. old. As they talked about sleeping through the night or working on it, I mentioned that I STILL nurse my son every 3 hours at night, and got blank stares.
After the birth of my nephew (long story but I was emotionally down after that as well because of the differences in my choices vs. my sisters...not bad, just different, but I felt defeated) I was already feeling low, but after Thanksgiving I felt totally down. I cried for a whole day just wishing that for once in my life I wasn't "different" from everyone around me.
Ever since I was little I just wanted to fit in, be in the "in" crowd. But I never compromised WHO I was to do so (thank goodness!) However, it doesn't hurt any less now that I know I'm making the right choices for my family. I still want to belong to the majority, and I don't. Period.
But this last week I felt good. I had our reading club on Monday and got to chat and laugh. On Friday we did a small neighborhood (3 houses and one other neighbor) Progressive Dinner. I had a lot of fun with that! I was the Salads and the first stop, and we talked and talked that night! The kids had a blast as well. Pumpkin just plays right along with all her little friends now. She is SO social now! I love it!
I also went to see my one friend on Thursday last week, and I had fun. Though of course it was one of those days that you aren't supposed to drive unless you NEED to, so by the time I left for home, I was driving 30 mph on a 55 road, and cars were probably swearing behind me. But I CAN'T drive in winter! Sorry!
Pumpkin did two small songs with her preschool class at church, and was so cute. I was in a small skit before Thanksgiving, which I enjoyed, though I was sad because no one sat with us at the dinner, like usual. I just want a couple of REAL friends...is that all to ask? A couple of people who make an EFFORT to be with us, to talk to us, to keep in touch with us.
I don't have anyone who fits that description in my life right now, save the one friend I saw on Thursday, and there are issues with them not really understanding the Christian life since they didn't come from that kind of background and aren't with other believers ever to learn. So she is a great friend, but can't encourage me in my walk with God, yet.
Anyway, the rest of my life is same old, same old. Kids do cute stuff. I clean house. I play with clay but can't fire it because I don't have my kiln hooked up yet and am waiting to build the wheel because there's nowhere to put it yet.
On the positive side, I made Christmas cut out cookies a couple of days ago. I looked all day for a recipe that was hard and crunchy, like bakeries sell, but no such luck. I thought that Pumpkin's Cubbie's leader might have a recipe, since they frosted cookies in her class that were those crisp bakery cookies, but it turns out she bought the dough....from a bakery! So if anyone out there has a recipe for those crisp, hard bakery sugar cookies, PLEASE send them my way!
And now on to the reason for the title of this post (see, I got ya!)
Yesterday when Boom got to school, there were gifts waiting for him in front of another teacher's classroom (he thinks the gift-giver didn't' know which room was his.) There were three gifts, one marked from "The Ghost of Christmas Past" which had an expensive book called "What If" (collected version, where "Eminent Historians Imagine What Might Have Happened.") A second gift from "The Ghost of Christmas Present" included the Life Books "The War In Iraq." and the third gift from "The Ghost of Christmas Future" contained some thin mints, orange cream thin mints, peanut brittle, and "reindeer corn" (candy corn with Christmas colors.)
Boom thinks that it might have been his old History teacher that left the gift, based on the choice of books and lack of knowing where his room was. He thinks the football boosters wouldn't have left History stuff, but football stuff. So, we aren't really sure who it was. But I wish we could get together with his old history teacher. I loved talking to his wife. They are a neat couple. I wish I could say the same for their sons, but alas, I only knew Boom's best friend since we've been together, and most of his good memories with him happened before.
So that's my life in the last two months in a nut shell. Hope you sort of enjoyed it. I did.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
I'm An Aunt!
My Nephew was born on November 21 at 12:17 PM weighing 8 lbs. 4 oz. and measuring 20 1/4 in. long.
Congratulations Sis and BIL!!!
She went in on Sunday night to get induced (peri didn't want to go past the due date) and they broke her water Monday morning. Shortly after she got the epidural and quickly went from 4-5 cm. to complete. After only 10 minutes pushing, her much wanted baby boy was here!
The mass in his chest is measuring small enough that he won't need surgery until around 6-12 months, so that is an answer to prayer as well.
Congratulations Sis and BIL!!!
She went in on Sunday night to get induced (peri didn't want to go past the due date) and they broke her water Monday morning. Shortly after she got the epidural and quickly went from 4-5 cm. to complete. After only 10 minutes pushing, her much wanted baby boy was here!
The mass in his chest is measuring small enough that he won't need surgery until around 6-12 months, so that is an answer to prayer as well.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Potter's Hands
Yesterday I was on Cone 9...er, I mean, Cloud Nine!
I have been e-mailing a potter who lives not even 10 miles away from me ever since I found her gallery of sorts on the internet. She has been the biggest encouragement, with real tips and hope and not once making me feel I was in over my head.
Turns out, she started just like me, in a way. She is 67 now, and only starting working with clay 8 years ago. She didn't attend classes, she had no one to teach her. She read and researched and just dove in. After hours, weeks, and months of frustration, she finally got the hang of the potter's wheel and now she even makes her own glazes when she has the time and energy to work (she has polio and also does the accounting for her and her hubby's business.)
Well, she offered to let me visit her and yesterday I spent about 3 hours with her. I got to hear stories of how she began, she showed me her work, and she even showed me how to work the wheel.
Then, she let ME try my own two hands at it...after centering it for me. I push the clay in and out and she said she honestly thought I had a natural talent for it...she hadn't been able to get her own grown kids or grandkids to do as well the first time...she said I must be a pro in disguise ;)
This might sound like she was just flattering me, but in talking to her I know she respects honesty, so though I may not be pro, I hope I DO have a knack for it! She also could tell that I knew a lot from my reading and that I'm not like some who THINK they want to work with clay but only really want easy answers on how to get from here to there...
And then I found out she is a Christian! And we've had two more e-mails just today with regards to talking about God!
So I have found a friend and a mentor, and I hope we can get together more. And, I have discovered that I like the idea of the potter's wheel more than I thought I would (it doesn't hurt to have someone tell you that you might be good at it!) But I loved the feel of the clay spinning within my hands, and a picture came to me...
As I was thinking one again about the fact that we are living Jars of Clay sculpted by the Father's hand, I pictured God at the potter's wheel, with me as the lump of clay He was shaping, and I realized that when you shape a pot, you literally are hugging it much of the time, to re-center or push in the shape. You alternate between drawing the clay out and hugging it, or at least, in my beginning pursuit of it, I did so.
But I thought that that was such a neat picture, that while God is shaping me, He is cupping me within His palms, gently forming me to be what He wants. I can't wait to see what other pictures I get the more I study scripture and pottery. I think maybe this will bring me closer to God than just me reading the Bible...I'm a very visual person, and maybe this is another way God is choosing to speak to me. I sure hope so.
I also will be thrilled that if and when I get a wheel and make pots, the "pottery" part of Mud Puppy Pottery won't be a misnomer after all...
I have been e-mailing a potter who lives not even 10 miles away from me ever since I found her gallery of sorts on the internet. She has been the biggest encouragement, with real tips and hope and not once making me feel I was in over my head.
Turns out, she started just like me, in a way. She is 67 now, and only starting working with clay 8 years ago. She didn't attend classes, she had no one to teach her. She read and researched and just dove in. After hours, weeks, and months of frustration, she finally got the hang of the potter's wheel and now she even makes her own glazes when she has the time and energy to work (she has polio and also does the accounting for her and her hubby's business.)
Well, she offered to let me visit her and yesterday I spent about 3 hours with her. I got to hear stories of how she began, she showed me her work, and she even showed me how to work the wheel.
Then, she let ME try my own two hands at it...after centering it for me. I push the clay in and out and she said she honestly thought I had a natural talent for it...she hadn't been able to get her own grown kids or grandkids to do as well the first time...she said I must be a pro in disguise ;)
This might sound like she was just flattering me, but in talking to her I know she respects honesty, so though I may not be pro, I hope I DO have a knack for it! She also could tell that I knew a lot from my reading and that I'm not like some who THINK they want to work with clay but only really want easy answers on how to get from here to there...
And then I found out she is a Christian! And we've had two more e-mails just today with regards to talking about God!
So I have found a friend and a mentor, and I hope we can get together more. And, I have discovered that I like the idea of the potter's wheel more than I thought I would (it doesn't hurt to have someone tell you that you might be good at it!) But I loved the feel of the clay spinning within my hands, and a picture came to me...
As I was thinking one again about the fact that we are living Jars of Clay sculpted by the Father's hand, I pictured God at the potter's wheel, with me as the lump of clay He was shaping, and I realized that when you shape a pot, you literally are hugging it much of the time, to re-center or push in the shape. You alternate between drawing the clay out and hugging it, or at least, in my beginning pursuit of it, I did so.
But I thought that that was such a neat picture, that while God is shaping me, He is cupping me within His palms, gently forming me to be what He wants. I can't wait to see what other pictures I get the more I study scripture and pottery. I think maybe this will bring me closer to God than just me reading the Bible...I'm a very visual person, and maybe this is another way God is choosing to speak to me. I sure hope so.
I also will be thrilled that if and when I get a wheel and make pots, the "pottery" part of Mud Puppy Pottery won't be a misnomer after all...
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
That'll Do, Pig. That'll Do.
I've only seen the movie "Babe" twice, and both times I cried at the end. For those who haven't seen the movie, the next paragraph is a definite spoiler.
After Babe steps into the arena to round up the sheep, he is met with jeering crowds, doubtful judges, and a hopeful farmer. After all, the farmer himself has a few skeptics wondering if he's lost his mind. But no matter, Babe learns the secret sheep code and gently herds them to the proper places, and as the crowd is silenced and the judges amazed, the farmer says very quietly to Babe, "That'll do, Pig. That'll do."
And that's where I cry. That simple statement is more than an affirmation. He may not have jumped for joy or screamed in victory, but he is satisfied, and in his quiet way he says all that he needs to. He is proud that the pig has done what he knew he could do, and he doesn't need to puff up the pig with big words...the simple confident thanks is enough.
********
Sunday at church we were singing during worship, and a familiar voice began to gnaw at my mind. These songs aren't that exciting. They definitely aren't all that new. They aren't vineyard music. I wish we had more contemporary stuff. I wish we had our old church. I wish I could have the church I grew up in stay the way it was with my Dad playing trombone and me being happy. I wish, I wish, I wish....
And I realized a few things. One, of course is that not much worshipping is being done while I'm being critical. And the second is that I have no real need to be critical. And I'm tired of it. And third, I don't want my kids to be subject to the Sunday weekly criticism that I endured growing up, and is probably the very reason I'm so critical of everything myself.
If it wasn't the preaching, it was the music. If it wasn't the music, it was the Sunday School. If it wasn't the Sunday School, it was the teacher. There was always something. My mother didn't mean to be this way, I am sure. But she was. And it wasn't just at church. My father had more faults than good traits, and I remember many times when the effort I'd put forth in cleaning or something was not quite "good enough."
And now I'm the same way. Boom can help out and I'll find ways to nit pick. There will be no reason to find fault with him, but apparently I'm not content until I do. Lack of self confidence on my behalf? I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to get tired of it. And on church on Sunday, I decided to stop my bitterness and enjoy the fellowship of believers and worship with my heart.
Kind of like the song, "I'm coming back to the heart of worship, and it's all about YOU...." I know that there is no perfect church. But I like that we have many families coming together in one place for one purpose. We are all imperfect, and to expect a perfect church to come about from imperfect people is ridiculous. I know many people end up meeting with just their own family, but truthfully, we aren't all perfect, either, and I'd rather deal with the imperfections of a large group of people and make friends and be encouraged, than to be safe with my own family, but lonely and eventually encounter our own problems.
So I need to quit being cantankerous. And yet outside of church I find that the lifestyle I have adopted tends to also be critical of others. Whether in self defense or in judgment, I'm not sure. Or maybe in the defense of those innocents that are lied to by the majority.
Either way, I find myself criticizing hospital births, those who let their child cry it out for days, those who trust doctors without even researching on their own. And I get frustrated. I get frustrated because I don't see how anyone can let a child cry for hours, wanting only to be held, and only for the reason that this child should learn to "self-sooth." I get frustrated that people trust doctors who induce for no reason, then thank that same doctor for saving their baby's life because of all the complications that ensued, not realizing that had they waited for the baby to come on it's own there might not have BEEN any complications in the first place. And I'm REALLY frustrated with doctors who tell mothers that their breast milk is not sufficient and they need to supplement with formula.
And yet I'm trapped by my own critical-ness. I don't vaccinate. And so there are people who don't understand why I don't let my children's bodies fight their own diseases. (for what it's worth, I knew a lady growing up who had polio because her parents didn't vaccinate, and I could not do that to my children. I DID do research on both sides, and this is what I've chosen.) I was actually planning to circumcise, before I had Pumpkin. I still don't think it's horrible (after all, since God had his "chosen" people circumcised, I don't think He would mutilate them or cause them to experience less pleasurable sex, since He created it, after all.) But then I changed my mind because there wasn't enough to convince me to go through with it.
And so I know that each choice one makes is THEIR decision, and yet I remain critical, skeptical, at times bitter. And for what?
*******
And then I thought about how I think of God. I picture Him often to be critical of ME. That He is always disappointed and thinking that I'm not "good enough." That no matter how hard I try, I will never add up.
Oh, I know there's the whole "grace" thing...but I don't actually GET IT, not completely. I mean, I understand what it means and how it's supposed to "work." But I don't live like I believe it. I still fear the repercussions of the mistakes and bad decisions I make. If I feed my kids fruit that isn't organic or even washed...will there be a mark against me? I knew better...I had no excuse (beside low funds), and I'm supposed to be the best parent I can be...so does that count?
I'd like to think, sometimes, that God is like that farmer in Babe. That He believes in me and that He is proud of me. And though I'm not perfect, and I know good works and intentions don't "earn" you anything, that maybe He will see my heart and know that at least I TRIED to do my best, as I knew how, with what I had.
I think that even though it would be wonderful to hear my Father utter the words, "Well done good and faithful servant," I'd be just as happy to hear him say quietly, "That'll do, Prism. That'll do."
After Babe steps into the arena to round up the sheep, he is met with jeering crowds, doubtful judges, and a hopeful farmer. After all, the farmer himself has a few skeptics wondering if he's lost his mind. But no matter, Babe learns the secret sheep code and gently herds them to the proper places, and as the crowd is silenced and the judges amazed, the farmer says very quietly to Babe, "That'll do, Pig. That'll do."
And that's where I cry. That simple statement is more than an affirmation. He may not have jumped for joy or screamed in victory, but he is satisfied, and in his quiet way he says all that he needs to. He is proud that the pig has done what he knew he could do, and he doesn't need to puff up the pig with big words...the simple confident thanks is enough.
********
Sunday at church we were singing during worship, and a familiar voice began to gnaw at my mind. These songs aren't that exciting. They definitely aren't all that new. They aren't vineyard music. I wish we had more contemporary stuff. I wish we had our old church. I wish I could have the church I grew up in stay the way it was with my Dad playing trombone and me being happy. I wish, I wish, I wish....
And I realized a few things. One, of course is that not much worshipping is being done while I'm being critical. And the second is that I have no real need to be critical. And I'm tired of it. And third, I don't want my kids to be subject to the Sunday weekly criticism that I endured growing up, and is probably the very reason I'm so critical of everything myself.
If it wasn't the preaching, it was the music. If it wasn't the music, it was the Sunday School. If it wasn't the Sunday School, it was the teacher. There was always something. My mother didn't mean to be this way, I am sure. But she was. And it wasn't just at church. My father had more faults than good traits, and I remember many times when the effort I'd put forth in cleaning or something was not quite "good enough."
And now I'm the same way. Boom can help out and I'll find ways to nit pick. There will be no reason to find fault with him, but apparently I'm not content until I do. Lack of self confidence on my behalf? I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to get tired of it. And on church on Sunday, I decided to stop my bitterness and enjoy the fellowship of believers and worship with my heart.
Kind of like the song, "I'm coming back to the heart of worship, and it's all about YOU...." I know that there is no perfect church. But I like that we have many families coming together in one place for one purpose. We are all imperfect, and to expect a perfect church to come about from imperfect people is ridiculous. I know many people end up meeting with just their own family, but truthfully, we aren't all perfect, either, and I'd rather deal with the imperfections of a large group of people and make friends and be encouraged, than to be safe with my own family, but lonely and eventually encounter our own problems.
So I need to quit being cantankerous. And yet outside of church I find that the lifestyle I have adopted tends to also be critical of others. Whether in self defense or in judgment, I'm not sure. Or maybe in the defense of those innocents that are lied to by the majority.
Either way, I find myself criticizing hospital births, those who let their child cry it out for days, those who trust doctors without even researching on their own. And I get frustrated. I get frustrated because I don't see how anyone can let a child cry for hours, wanting only to be held, and only for the reason that this child should learn to "self-sooth." I get frustrated that people trust doctors who induce for no reason, then thank that same doctor for saving their baby's life because of all the complications that ensued, not realizing that had they waited for the baby to come on it's own there might not have BEEN any complications in the first place. And I'm REALLY frustrated with doctors who tell mothers that their breast milk is not sufficient and they need to supplement with formula.
And yet I'm trapped by my own critical-ness. I don't vaccinate. And so there are people who don't understand why I don't let my children's bodies fight their own diseases. (for what it's worth, I knew a lady growing up who had polio because her parents didn't vaccinate, and I could not do that to my children. I DID do research on both sides, and this is what I've chosen.) I was actually planning to circumcise, before I had Pumpkin. I still don't think it's horrible (after all, since God had his "chosen" people circumcised, I don't think He would mutilate them or cause them to experience less pleasurable sex, since He created it, after all.) But then I changed my mind because there wasn't enough to convince me to go through with it.
And so I know that each choice one makes is THEIR decision, and yet I remain critical, skeptical, at times bitter. And for what?
*******
And then I thought about how I think of God. I picture Him often to be critical of ME. That He is always disappointed and thinking that I'm not "good enough." That no matter how hard I try, I will never add up.
Oh, I know there's the whole "grace" thing...but I don't actually GET IT, not completely. I mean, I understand what it means and how it's supposed to "work." But I don't live like I believe it. I still fear the repercussions of the mistakes and bad decisions I make. If I feed my kids fruit that isn't organic or even washed...will there be a mark against me? I knew better...I had no excuse (beside low funds), and I'm supposed to be the best parent I can be...so does that count?
I'd like to think, sometimes, that God is like that farmer in Babe. That He believes in me and that He is proud of me. And though I'm not perfect, and I know good works and intentions don't "earn" you anything, that maybe He will see my heart and know that at least I TRIED to do my best, as I knew how, with what I had.
I think that even though it would be wonderful to hear my Father utter the words, "Well done good and faithful servant," I'd be just as happy to hear him say quietly, "That'll do, Prism. That'll do."
Monday, October 31, 2005
My First Trick-Or-Treat
Well, obviously I've lived through Trick or Treating's throughout my lifetime. But I've never participated in one until now.
I was raised without Trick or Treating for two reasons: we lived in a rural area where kids didn't come to your house even if you wanted them to, and we didn't believe in celebrating Holloween because of it's pretense of Evil.
So this is the first time I've gone door to doorstep and asked for candy. Well, actually, Pumpkin asked for candy. But I took her!
Last year I sat at our doorway waiting for the first costumed child to walk up our porch steps. And when it was 2 minutes past 7:00 I panicked and began to cry because no one could tell our porch light was on since it was still light out. But only seconds later I nervously handed our first patron their prized sweets. And we were out of our two bags of Snickers 10 minutes later (turns out over 500 kids showed up last year here - out neighbors across the street go ALL OUT for Halloween and draw quite a crowd.)
Anyway, this year Pumpkin had seen enough on cartoons and TV to know the gist of it, and she's so not shy anymore!, that I knew I wanted to take her. Rugger stayed home with Boom to pass out candy since he wouldn't get into it and he's running a fever right now.
Anyway, we put the bunny suit that her Grandma (MIL) got her last year, and I even painted her face white with a pink nose (she like the nose) and black whiskers. She smeared it twice before we even left the house, but it was worth it anyway.
As we walked from house to house, I felt sort of shy and new at the same time. Everyone commented on my little bunny and how cute she was. She was great at saying "Trick or Treat" and "Thank You." And half and hour later she was ready to go home ;) Little feet can only walk so far, it seems. If she had had her cousin running around with her, it might have been a different story, but his grandparents are in Warren, and so he wasn't with us.
I also felt a bit guilty. Part of me knows there are Christians who are very much against Trick or Treating. I used to be one of them. I'm still not completely sure what is okay or not. But I like the idea of dressing up, and getting candy isn't so bad, either. I know there are evil roots behind the tradition, and I'm still not into the ghouls or goblins, witches or ghosts, corpses and blood.
But I felt like tonight I took part in a tradition that most Americans have been celebrating for generations. I felt part of our neighborhood. I relished sitting on the porch with our Jack-O-Lanterns lit and Boom's students coming to say "hi." I enjoyed seeing neighbors and strangers all being polite and smiling at each other's costumes.
I had fun. And for me, tonight, that's all that matters.
I was raised without Trick or Treating for two reasons: we lived in a rural area where kids didn't come to your house even if you wanted them to, and we didn't believe in celebrating Holloween because of it's pretense of Evil.
So this is the first time I've gone door to doorstep and asked for candy. Well, actually, Pumpkin asked for candy. But I took her!
Last year I sat at our doorway waiting for the first costumed child to walk up our porch steps. And when it was 2 minutes past 7:00 I panicked and began to cry because no one could tell our porch light was on since it was still light out. But only seconds later I nervously handed our first patron their prized sweets. And we were out of our two bags of Snickers 10 minutes later (turns out over 500 kids showed up last year here - out neighbors across the street go ALL OUT for Halloween and draw quite a crowd.)
Anyway, this year Pumpkin had seen enough on cartoons and TV to know the gist of it, and she's so not shy anymore!, that I knew I wanted to take her. Rugger stayed home with Boom to pass out candy since he wouldn't get into it and he's running a fever right now.
Anyway, we put the bunny suit that her Grandma (MIL) got her last year, and I even painted her face white with a pink nose (she like the nose) and black whiskers. She smeared it twice before we even left the house, but it was worth it anyway.
As we walked from house to house, I felt sort of shy and new at the same time. Everyone commented on my little bunny and how cute she was. She was great at saying "Trick or Treat" and "Thank You." And half and hour later she was ready to go home ;) Little feet can only walk so far, it seems. If she had had her cousin running around with her, it might have been a different story, but his grandparents are in Warren, and so he wasn't with us.
I also felt a bit guilty. Part of me knows there are Christians who are very much against Trick or Treating. I used to be one of them. I'm still not completely sure what is okay or not. But I like the idea of dressing up, and getting candy isn't so bad, either. I know there are evil roots behind the tradition, and I'm still not into the ghouls or goblins, witches or ghosts, corpses and blood.
But I felt like tonight I took part in a tradition that most Americans have been celebrating for generations. I felt part of our neighborhood. I relished sitting on the porch with our Jack-O-Lanterns lit and Boom's students coming to say "hi." I enjoyed seeing neighbors and strangers all being polite and smiling at each other's costumes.
I had fun. And for me, tonight, that's all that matters.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
My Pumpkin Princess
Well, she turned three on Monday. And she's been talking about birthdays in general for so long that I'm not sure she knows exactly WHEN she turned three, or that after this week it's not her birthday or anyone else's for quite awhile. But at least this year she knew to look forward to it. And I hope her party on Saturday goes well. I got her balloons and noise makers because to her that means party, and it's the first she'll have had them (the noise makers, that is.)
Tonight at Cubbies she got a little present. They were generic My Little Ponies, and when I asked her is she had gotten "My Little Ponies" she replied, "No!, Their MY little ponies!" Ah, yes. Three and not willing to share. Which means poor Rugger is getting shoved quite a lot lately.
Speaking of which, the little cuddle has apparently been attending "Tantrum Throwing 101" because he's gotten very good at it. I knew he would months ago when he used to put his head to the ground and pout if he didn't get his way. Now he resembles more of an angry bull...
And he has yet to say a word. I'm beginning to wonder if he'll be the type to spout a whole sentence when he DOES talk...
Pumpkin is also very into the imagining and role playing thing. I've been "Pumpkin" all week and she's been "Mommy." She pretends her animals are in distress like on Go Diego and rescues them. And she names her baby doll (which is clothed in pink) baby "Joey." She insists he's a baby boy. Before I gave her the doll for her birthday, she had been on a kick with her "baby froggy." A little bath toy which she would put under her shirt and proclaim to be having a baby, then pull out and he is born. She wrapped him in a washcloth and kept good care of him.
Right now I am so enjoying them. Rugger is getting into more things than I can think to find since I can't imagine why he's want to get into them, and Pumpkin surprises me daily with new things she learns. Tomorrow I'm taking her skating for the first time with the local homeschoolers group. I hope to meet some people and make some friends. But it will be hard to keep quiet about my plans to unschool, since I know people say, "Don't label yourself," and "don't talk about methods." But I'm so excited about unschooling...Oh, well.
I found a lady here in Jamestown (well, not HERE, of course, but close enough that it might as well be) who does clay and is on CLAYART, which is where I found her gallery. We haven't met in person, yet, but she's been VERY helpful in her e-mails and I hope I can learn much from her. I can't wait until football is over and I can think about getting the garage wired and fire up the kiln. Of course, inevitably, I will shatter a few pieces (she said everybody does throughout their career) but I'm hoping SOMETHING makes it through the whole process. Then I can get started on making gifts for family and friends! What better excuse than that to do what you love!
And I have a confession to make. I didn't think I'd care that much, but I'm hooked on Sudoku...are you? My family gave me some sheets and I can't help it...I love it.
Tonight at Cubbies she got a little present. They were generic My Little Ponies, and when I asked her is she had gotten "My Little Ponies" she replied, "No!, Their MY little ponies!" Ah, yes. Three and not willing to share. Which means poor Rugger is getting shoved quite a lot lately.
Speaking of which, the little cuddle has apparently been attending "Tantrum Throwing 101" because he's gotten very good at it. I knew he would months ago when he used to put his head to the ground and pout if he didn't get his way. Now he resembles more of an angry bull...
And he has yet to say a word. I'm beginning to wonder if he'll be the type to spout a whole sentence when he DOES talk...
Pumpkin is also very into the imagining and role playing thing. I've been "Pumpkin" all week and she's been "Mommy." She pretends her animals are in distress like on Go Diego and rescues them. And she names her baby doll (which is clothed in pink) baby "Joey." She insists he's a baby boy. Before I gave her the doll for her birthday, she had been on a kick with her "baby froggy." A little bath toy which she would put under her shirt and proclaim to be having a baby, then pull out and he is born. She wrapped him in a washcloth and kept good care of him.
Right now I am so enjoying them. Rugger is getting into more things than I can think to find since I can't imagine why he's want to get into them, and Pumpkin surprises me daily with new things she learns. Tomorrow I'm taking her skating for the first time with the local homeschoolers group. I hope to meet some people and make some friends. But it will be hard to keep quiet about my plans to unschool, since I know people say, "Don't label yourself," and "don't talk about methods." But I'm so excited about unschooling...Oh, well.
I found a lady here in Jamestown (well, not HERE, of course, but close enough that it might as well be) who does clay and is on CLAYART, which is where I found her gallery. We haven't met in person, yet, but she's been VERY helpful in her e-mails and I hope I can learn much from her. I can't wait until football is over and I can think about getting the garage wired and fire up the kiln. Of course, inevitably, I will shatter a few pieces (she said everybody does throughout their career) but I'm hoping SOMETHING makes it through the whole process. Then I can get started on making gifts for family and friends! What better excuse than that to do what you love!
And I have a confession to make. I didn't think I'd care that much, but I'm hooked on Sudoku...are you? My family gave me some sheets and I can't help it...I love it.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Tad Bit Jealous
Okay, so my feelings aren't all that stellar lately!
But, I was watching That's Clever on HGTV today and saw a man who (with his son) makes these flea characters out of metal. He welds them and such. It was so neat! So I checked out his website, and I SO want, like, half of his stuff! You can catch them here.
I want the trombone player for my dad (mustache and all), the football scene for Boom, the pottery guy for myself some day (if I ever do get it going and get a wheel,) and I can think of one for just about everybody I know, almost!
And I just wish that I could do something this cool and enjoy it and have others enjoy it and make some money, too.
But as it is, I can't even seem to figure out my clay. I don't know if it's too wet, dry, or what. I get very frustrated sometimes because I keep feeling like I should be good at SOMEthing, and yet I never feel like I "find" it. Boom has football, my MIL does gardening, my Mom is good at housekeeping and cooking, my sister is becoming a writer, and I...I just keep trying.
*sigh*
But at least I won't give up. Not yet. I still have faith that I can make the clay work. I just have to figure it out. I will search for a workshop or something, but I'll get there.
If there's a "flea" on that website that describes you, let me know in the comments!
But, I was watching That's Clever on HGTV today and saw a man who (with his son) makes these flea characters out of metal. He welds them and such. It was so neat! So I checked out his website, and I SO want, like, half of his stuff! You can catch them here.
I want the trombone player for my dad (mustache and all), the football scene for Boom, the pottery guy for myself some day (if I ever do get it going and get a wheel,) and I can think of one for just about everybody I know, almost!
And I just wish that I could do something this cool and enjoy it and have others enjoy it and make some money, too.
But as it is, I can't even seem to figure out my clay. I don't know if it's too wet, dry, or what. I get very frustrated sometimes because I keep feeling like I should be good at SOMEthing, and yet I never feel like I "find" it. Boom has football, my MIL does gardening, my Mom is good at housekeeping and cooking, my sister is becoming a writer, and I...I just keep trying.
*sigh*
But at least I won't give up. Not yet. I still have faith that I can make the clay work. I just have to figure it out. I will search for a workshop or something, but I'll get there.
If there's a "flea" on that website that describes you, let me know in the comments!
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Feeling Cheated
Well, no Nemo for me, at least for now. About a month ago I bought (at least I thought) the Finding Nemo DVD for Pumpkin on ebay. It was a money order or check only, but I didn't mind because they had 100% postitive feedback. And they had to wait 10 days for check to clear. So I wait but 3 days after I send my check I see that their user ID is no longer registered. I e-mail them and they tell me it's a mistake and they are trying to clear it up. NOPE. My check was cashed, but no DVD. And ebay won't refund because it's under the $25 limit.
All I can say about the guys who pulled this one on me (and I suspect others...there were many movies for sale when I "bought" mine) is: JERKS!!!
On another note, I'm hoping I started my period soon. I actually took a HPT today because I had bad cramps Friday night, then nothing until today. I was worried they might have been implanting cramps, but the test says no...thought I'm still waiting for AF. I don't want to be pregnant right now...I've been waiting 21 months for this month to come and go and me not be pregnant...I can't do that close of an age gap again...let alone the extra bed and van and everything else we'd have to adjust to...
So I'm hoping these cramps move into something more serious by tomorrow...
All I can say about the guys who pulled this one on me (and I suspect others...there were many movies for sale when I "bought" mine) is: JERKS!!!
On another note, I'm hoping I started my period soon. I actually took a HPT today because I had bad cramps Friday night, then nothing until today. I was worried they might have been implanting cramps, but the test says no...thought I'm still waiting for AF. I don't want to be pregnant right now...I've been waiting 21 months for this month to come and go and me not be pregnant...I can't do that close of an age gap again...let alone the extra bed and van and everything else we'd have to adjust to...
So I'm hoping these cramps move into something more serious by tomorrow...
Thursday, October 13, 2005
At Least Something Works - And I'M "IT" !!!
Well, I've been tagged. Thank you, TD!
But, I didn't think Blogger copied text, or at least it didn't the last time I tried. So I tried downloading the Blogger for Word, and wouldn't you know it can't find the path (I'm assuming to my internet connection.) Same as Mozilla Firefox...it just keeps searching for the page and times out. I can't even set it to my connection like I do in IE...and I get so frustrated with technology. If you don't have the latest or the greatest, or understand how to program yourself, you are basically, pardon me, screwed.
Anyway, I really wanted to do this tag, it's my first *blush*, but I couldn't stand the thought of typing it all down, so I tried by chance to copy and paste...and wonder of all wonders, it worked! Though I have to do some formatting...it's all there. So, here goes:
First the rules:Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross pollination effect.
1. Blue Stocking: http://bluestocking.typepad.com
1. Simply Coll: http://colleenscorner.com/blog
3. My Boutiful Life: http://billi-jean.com/thebounty.html
4. Today's Lessons: http://todayslessons.blogspot.com
5. The Thought Train: http://thethoughttrain.blogspot.com
Next: select four new friends to add to the pollen count. (No one is obligated to participate and anyone can play if they want to).
Umm...to be honest, I don't have any blogging friends that I know besides the one who tagged me. I've visited other blogs, but I couldn't do this unless I knew the blogger better. So get to know me, already!
were you doing 10 years ago?
1995 I was a Senior in High School. That summer I had spent a week at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh (AIP) and also visited the Pittsburgh technical Institute (where I actually attended.) I was a colorguard in my marching band and a valedictorian, though I turned down the offer to speak at graduation since I had only been at the school for 4 years and I don't like public speaking. (though I will do plays)
What were you doing 5 years ago?
2000 I had been married for a year and a half and we decided to send Boom back to school to become the teacher and coach he had always wanted. I was commuting an hour to work, so the moved benefited us by making it only 20 minutes. We watched Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlee over New Year's while we were sick with a stomach bug that lasted about a week. Thank goodness for the holidays or we would have missed more than one day of work! We were too sick and tired to care if Y2K actually happened, but figured we have a field, land, and can hunt for food. Our own natural gas well, and a generator...we were set. Thanks goodness we didn't spend time making gallons of bleached water!
What were you doing one year ago?
2004 I had just had my second homebirth with was a wonderful, serene waterbirth that I wish I could re-live over and over except the last hour and a half, until he came out, I'd also relive that. Then we moved into our new house and Boom started his new job as a teacher and head football coach of the local high school (the one he graduated from.) I was basically depressed, lonely, and stressed. My almost 2 yr. old didn't cope with all the changes well, and I couldn't even help like I wanted since I had a newborn to attend to. And all the boxes to unpack since Boom couldn't be home much, and all the furniture to move even though I was warned to take it easy. Basically, I was counting down to Christmas when Boom would be home for almost 2 weeks. And Rugger would be old enough to sit for 10 minutes or maybe even 20 while I baked cookies for the first time since he was born.
What were you doing yesterday?
The 12th Yesterday I was moving again, within my house. I moved boxes and crafts and craft supplies upstairs to the now toyroom. I moved clothes and clothes and more clothes downstairs to our current bedroom. This took me 3 hours. I made lunch but did the dishes while the water boiled for the macaroni (boxed version...first time in over a year for me, usually do the whole wheat pasta and velveta type cheese and milk.) Then I typed up the games for Awana and after Rugger woke from his nap, went back to sorting clothes and putting stuff in it's new spots. By the time I was done and had given the kids a bath and taken a shower it was 6 hours total. A long day. Which is why I did nothing today. Except rake the leaves in the front yard and play in them...first time I've raked leaves in my own yard! I loved it! We didn't have trees near the trailer.
5 snacks you enjoy
Chocolate Chip Cookies (though just about any cookies will do.)
Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream (though any ice cream will do.)
Fruit with that awesome Cream Cheese & Whip Cream Fruit Dip
Chips & Dip (never ever buy it, don't hardly ever have it, because I'd eat it all. I'm not a chip person, unless there's dip!)
Candy Bars (Especially Nutrageous by Recees)
5 songs you know all the words to
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
Jesus Loves Me
The Star Spangled Banner
Praise Adonai
(I used to know a ton of songs by Audio Adrenaline, Newsboys, D.C. Talk, Carmen, Michael W. Smith, etc. Don't listen enough now...)
5 things you would do if you had a million dollars
Pay off the house and pay my parents back for helping us so much over the last 6 years
Save it for the kids when they need it (college or otherwise)
Give more to charities
Find the perfect land and buy it, then build the perfect house
Buy two new vehicles that are more spacious and versatile than the ones we currently have and which would be dependable for years to come
5 things you like doing
Talking
Reading
Meeting new people
Trying new things
Traveling to new places
5 bad habits
Talking too much and too loud
Yelling at my kids
Not getting into the Word or Praying everyday
Interrupting conversations
Forgetting things
5 things you would never wear again
Makeup (unless for a play or something, not for myself)
Pegged Pants
Banana Clips in my hair
Braces
Diapers (hopefully!)
5 favorite toys
Slinky
Hi-Bounce Balls
Mechanical Puzzles (ie. Rubik's Cube)
Glow-In-The-Dark and Light Up toys
Devil Sticks
But, I didn't think Blogger copied text, or at least it didn't the last time I tried. So I tried downloading the Blogger for Word, and wouldn't you know it can't find the path (I'm assuming to my internet connection.) Same as Mozilla Firefox...it just keeps searching for the page and times out. I can't even set it to my connection like I do in IE...and I get so frustrated with technology. If you don't have the latest or the greatest, or understand how to program yourself, you are basically, pardon me, screwed.
Anyway, I really wanted to do this tag, it's my first *blush*, but I couldn't stand the thought of typing it all down, so I tried by chance to copy and paste...and wonder of all wonders, it worked! Though I have to do some formatting...it's all there. So, here goes:
First the rules:Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross pollination effect.
1. Blue Stocking: http://bluestocking.typepad.com
1. Simply Coll: http://colleenscorner.com/blog
3. My Boutiful Life: http://billi-jean.com/thebounty.html
4. Today's Lessons: http://todayslessons.blogspot.com
5. The Thought Train: http://thethoughttrain.blogspot.com
Next: select four new friends to add to the pollen count. (No one is obligated to participate and anyone can play if they want to).
Umm...to be honest, I don't have any blogging friends that I know besides the one who tagged me. I've visited other blogs, but I couldn't do this unless I knew the blogger better. So get to know me, already!
were you doing 10 years ago?
1995 I was a Senior in High School. That summer I had spent a week at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh (AIP) and also visited the Pittsburgh technical Institute (where I actually attended.) I was a colorguard in my marching band and a valedictorian, though I turned down the offer to speak at graduation since I had only been at the school for 4 years and I don't like public speaking. (though I will do plays)
What were you doing 5 years ago?
2000 I had been married for a year and a half and we decided to send Boom back to school to become the teacher and coach he had always wanted. I was commuting an hour to work, so the moved benefited us by making it only 20 minutes. We watched Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlee over New Year's while we were sick with a stomach bug that lasted about a week. Thank goodness for the holidays or we would have missed more than one day of work! We were too sick and tired to care if Y2K actually happened, but figured we have a field, land, and can hunt for food. Our own natural gas well, and a generator...we were set. Thanks goodness we didn't spend time making gallons of bleached water!
What were you doing one year ago?
2004 I had just had my second homebirth with was a wonderful, serene waterbirth that I wish I could re-live over and over except the last hour and a half, until he came out, I'd also relive that. Then we moved into our new house and Boom started his new job as a teacher and head football coach of the local high school (the one he graduated from.) I was basically depressed, lonely, and stressed. My almost 2 yr. old didn't cope with all the changes well, and I couldn't even help like I wanted since I had a newborn to attend to. And all the boxes to unpack since Boom couldn't be home much, and all the furniture to move even though I was warned to take it easy. Basically, I was counting down to Christmas when Boom would be home for almost 2 weeks. And Rugger would be old enough to sit for 10 minutes or maybe even 20 while I baked cookies for the first time since he was born.
What were you doing yesterday?
The 12th Yesterday I was moving again, within my house. I moved boxes and crafts and craft supplies upstairs to the now toyroom. I moved clothes and clothes and more clothes downstairs to our current bedroom. This took me 3 hours. I made lunch but did the dishes while the water boiled for the macaroni (boxed version...first time in over a year for me, usually do the whole wheat pasta and velveta type cheese and milk.) Then I typed up the games for Awana and after Rugger woke from his nap, went back to sorting clothes and putting stuff in it's new spots. By the time I was done and had given the kids a bath and taken a shower it was 6 hours total. A long day. Which is why I did nothing today. Except rake the leaves in the front yard and play in them...first time I've raked leaves in my own yard! I loved it! We didn't have trees near the trailer.
5 snacks you enjoy
Chocolate Chip Cookies (though just about any cookies will do.)
Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream (though any ice cream will do.)
Fruit with that awesome Cream Cheese & Whip Cream Fruit Dip
Chips & Dip (never ever buy it, don't hardly ever have it, because I'd eat it all. I'm not a chip person, unless there's dip!)
Candy Bars (Especially Nutrageous by Recees)
5 songs you know all the words to
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
Jesus Loves Me
The Star Spangled Banner
Praise Adonai
(I used to know a ton of songs by Audio Adrenaline, Newsboys, D.C. Talk, Carmen, Michael W. Smith, etc. Don't listen enough now...)
5 things you would do if you had a million dollars
Pay off the house and pay my parents back for helping us so much over the last 6 years
Save it for the kids when they need it (college or otherwise)
Give more to charities
Find the perfect land and buy it, then build the perfect house
Buy two new vehicles that are more spacious and versatile than the ones we currently have and which would be dependable for years to come
5 things you like doing
Talking
Reading
Meeting new people
Trying new things
Traveling to new places
5 bad habits
Talking too much and too loud
Yelling at my kids
Not getting into the Word or Praying everyday
Interrupting conversations
Forgetting things
5 things you would never wear again
Makeup (unless for a play or something, not for myself)
Pegged Pants
Banana Clips in my hair
Braces
Diapers (hopefully!)
5 favorite toys
Slinky
Hi-Bounce Balls
Mechanical Puzzles (ie. Rubik's Cube)
Glow-In-The-Dark and Light Up toys
Devil Sticks
Winter is on it's Way
The experts are saying that this is one of the most beautiful Autumn seasons ever, and it peaks this very weekend around these northern parts. Which means this week has been a lovely mix of reds, oranges, yellows, greens, and even purples. Add to it the dreary weather and it's been a pretty nice fall week overall.
But that means that winter is right around the corner. The Sugar Maples will loose their beautiful clothes and get tapped once again for their sweet sap. (I didn't know it eventually kills them until Boom told me...now I feel bad for the trees, and this town as most of the trees are the same age and starting to die in parts.)
And now with the double hurricanes the gas prices are expected to be 50% higher than normal. Not that I'm complaining. I'd rather have to pay higher prices to HEAT my home, than to LOSE my home altogether. But at the same time, we are doing what we can to keep costs down.
Which this week meant moving the upstairs downstairs. Namely, the room we all slept in upstairs is now in the toyroom, and the toyroom is now upstairs. (We all sleep in the same room.)
This may not sound like much, but it took a good 3 hours Saturday afternoon just moving the furniture, with my in-laws' help (grandma watched the kids, especially Rugger who wanted to go up and down, up and down with us...and grandpa helped Boom with the bigger stuff.) Then it took all of Sunday afternoon to rearrange the toyroom and find a place for everything. Then on Monday I didn't get to do anything, and yesterday I didn't get to it, so today I finally spent six hours taking the craft stuff in the big closet upstairs and bringing all the clothes and towels down from upstairs. I made countless trips, and found a place for everything in the end. I even cleaned the showerhead downstairs so I can enjoy a shower in it (either it's been bad since we moved in or Boom never noticed the diminishing spray.) All I did was took an old toothbrush and attempt to scrub it thinking it might be calcium build-up. Thank goodness we have calcium here and not iron...iron never comes off easy.
Anyway, I haven't been blogging because I tend to do things in "fads." I get on a roll, then I take a break, etc. I have had not much to talk about, and too much. Here's a summary:
I now enjoy Phantom of the Opera music after renting the DVD from the library. I want the real CD from 1986 now. Never knew it was so good. Read the book 5 years ago and liked it, but never heard the music. Don't know why.
Joined a class for 20 some things on Sunday mornings, and right now it's about decision making with a book called The Best Question Ever by Andy Stanley. Seems good so far.
Been proud of Pumpkin as she is SO social with her peers now, though shy initially. She loves her preschool class at church and Cubbies on Wednesday. She plays happily with the kids of the moms I occasionally get together with (a few in the last two weeks...when I get with people, it seems to be in lumps, and then a dry spell.)
I am so excited about unschooling. I love the book Christian Unschooling by Teri Brown and wish their website was still up. I talked with the lady in charge of our local homeschooling chapter, and unfortunately she isn't into the unschooling thing at all, so she directed me in all the wrong directions as far as how I need to comply to the law (I found a great forum at Yahoo for PA unschoolers.) It just fits with the rest of my parenting.
In light of the unschooling thoughts, I pondered once again that the choices I have made since being a parent have been the ones most difficult to travel. Little support. Much skepticism. And doubts as to the real reason I'm doing it. At least I have a stubborn streak to keep with it.
Speaking of stubborn, we went to a corn maze in Ohio (first I've been to one) and though my kids were falling asleep I kept up and got us through it. We were supposed to get a prize for collecting verses to a song and singing it at the store, but all we got was ONE apple. Bummer. At least the price was discounted since it was during the day...
But that means that winter is right around the corner. The Sugar Maples will loose their beautiful clothes and get tapped once again for their sweet sap. (I didn't know it eventually kills them until Boom told me...now I feel bad for the trees, and this town as most of the trees are the same age and starting to die in parts.)
And now with the double hurricanes the gas prices are expected to be 50% higher than normal. Not that I'm complaining. I'd rather have to pay higher prices to HEAT my home, than to LOSE my home altogether. But at the same time, we are doing what we can to keep costs down.
Which this week meant moving the upstairs downstairs. Namely, the room we all slept in upstairs is now in the toyroom, and the toyroom is now upstairs. (We all sleep in the same room.)
This may not sound like much, but it took a good 3 hours Saturday afternoon just moving the furniture, with my in-laws' help (grandma watched the kids, especially Rugger who wanted to go up and down, up and down with us...and grandpa helped Boom with the bigger stuff.) Then it took all of Sunday afternoon to rearrange the toyroom and find a place for everything. Then on Monday I didn't get to do anything, and yesterday I didn't get to it, so today I finally spent six hours taking the craft stuff in the big closet upstairs and bringing all the clothes and towels down from upstairs. I made countless trips, and found a place for everything in the end. I even cleaned the showerhead downstairs so I can enjoy a shower in it (either it's been bad since we moved in or Boom never noticed the diminishing spray.) All I did was took an old toothbrush and attempt to scrub it thinking it might be calcium build-up. Thank goodness we have calcium here and not iron...iron never comes off easy.
Anyway, I haven't been blogging because I tend to do things in "fads." I get on a roll, then I take a break, etc. I have had not much to talk about, and too much. Here's a summary:
I now enjoy Phantom of the Opera music after renting the DVD from the library. I want the real CD from 1986 now. Never knew it was so good. Read the book 5 years ago and liked it, but never heard the music. Don't know why.
Joined a class for 20 some things on Sunday mornings, and right now it's about decision making with a book called The Best Question Ever by Andy Stanley. Seems good so far.
Been proud of Pumpkin as she is SO social with her peers now, though shy initially. She loves her preschool class at church and Cubbies on Wednesday. She plays happily with the kids of the moms I occasionally get together with (a few in the last two weeks...when I get with people, it seems to be in lumps, and then a dry spell.)
I am so excited about unschooling. I love the book Christian Unschooling by Teri Brown and wish their website was still up. I talked with the lady in charge of our local homeschooling chapter, and unfortunately she isn't into the unschooling thing at all, so she directed me in all the wrong directions as far as how I need to comply to the law (I found a great forum at Yahoo for PA unschoolers.) It just fits with the rest of my parenting.
In light of the unschooling thoughts, I pondered once again that the choices I have made since being a parent have been the ones most difficult to travel. Little support. Much skepticism. And doubts as to the real reason I'm doing it. At least I have a stubborn streak to keep with it.
Speaking of stubborn, we went to a corn maze in Ohio (first I've been to one) and though my kids were falling asleep I kept up and got us through it. We were supposed to get a prize for collecting verses to a song and singing it at the store, but all we got was ONE apple. Bummer. At least the price was discounted since it was during the day...
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