Once Upon a Time I Was Smart, a Satire

I will admit it.  I was one of those annoying students for whom good grades in school came easily.  Or so it would seem.   I'm pretty sure my peers hated me for it.  I can still hear kids jeering as my 7th grade science teacher announced, "We had ONE perfect store on this test." I did not then, nor do I now not consider myself smarter than anyone.  I think everyone has an tremendous ability to learn, and some people just don't thrive under conventional learning methods.  I just happened to have the gift of a sharp short-term memory, which worked out splendidly in the traditional classroom.

My classmate's mom once told my mom that if I didn't go to college and do something great in the workforce (or something along those lines), I would be wasting my brain.  Thankfully I have parents that are just as enthusiastic about the many other ways a person can contribute to society as they are about a college-bound kid with sky high dreams, so the pressure was off.  

Still I went to college.  Then I went to more college.  No, that is not permission to ever correct my grammar. :-)

Then I had kids.   

It started with that first pregnancy.  My brain cells began dying off one by one.  Then sleep deprivation and the brain fog set in.   Three kids later, it's all I can do to remember to mail off a birthday card to a faraway sibling.  A week late.  I stammer, grasping for the correct English word in conversation.  I can't remember the last time I washed my hair.  Oh wait.  That's a separate issue.

Then today Princess and Smooch were fighting over a particular train car, specifically the yellow one that transports the wooden circus animals.  I was about to give my "taking turns" speech, when suddenly I remembered:  we have two of those train cars.  I just saw the red one a few days ago...hold on a second...*digging through toy box where I know I tossed it*...right HERE!  

And that's the thing.

Once upon a time, I was smart.  Then having babies killed many brain cells; however, I still maintain the uncanny ability to retain information like the whereabouts of any and all small girl items.  As a result, my kids actually think I know everything because I can find all of their stuff.  Therefore, I am not wasting my brain as this is both an important and practical skill that requires intense mental power.  Likewise, it takes incredible intellectual prowess to successfully coordinate the nap times of three small children in order to make time for doing important things like write this awesome blog post.   The End.

Love Is...Not Fair? Things Nobody Says Out Loud

I've been feeling guilty about something lately:  my personality "clicks" better with Smooch's personality than it does with Princess's.  I try not to let it show.  I am conscious to spend special one-on-one time with both of them, and love (as in love is an action) both of them with equal intentionality.  However, I struggle with gravitating toward Smooch because her personality draws me in such a way that Princess's does not. (Princess and I are quite a bit alike, and it's the opposite parts of Smooch that draw me in.)  I am overtaken with infatuation, and I feel sick over that fact that perhaps Princess can tell the difference.

Please don't misunderstand me.  I love our firstborn dearly and she could never ever be replaced in or crowded out of my heart.  She is absolutely precious and words cannot describe the depth of my love for her.  It's just that I think perhaps "angel babies," the ones that are always happy and seem to never do anything wrong, are just easier to gravitate towards.   Even when they're upset, they bury their face in your shoulder and cry rather that pushing you away because they want space. (Psst..."angel babies" make you feel like gold, and I think that every parent deserves at least one baby like that by the way.)  In fact, just the concept that Smooch is the baby and I happen to love babies more than the average woman seems to love babies, is reason enough to explain my dilemma.  And naturally, she and I have that special "nursing baby and mother" thing going on that seems somewhat mystical in and of itself.  But I know it's more than that and I am putting myself out there, writing it down, saying that the guilt eats at me.   In fact, I have never mentioned it before this moment. 

I am very far from perfect so I know that it is probably detectable with even my best attempts to hide it.  I avoid thinking about it other than to check myself for equal expression of love.  (I check myself often.  I must be conscious of my actions.) Then today, while catching up on some reading, I stumbled across some very raw, honest, helpful blog entries of a mother who happens to relate in this exact struggle.  Since I know I can't be the only one with the "angel baby" dilemma, I am happy to share these insightful entries with my friends.  After all, we're all in this motherhood thing together, aren't we?

First read this post.

Then read this one.

And finally read the third post in the series. 

Anyone brave enough to share some thoughts?

I Want to "Binge Read" a Book with a Boring Title

Sometimes - especially if I can't sleep - my thoughts swirl around my head like the New Mexico dust on a blustery Spring day.  Occasionally, I will get stuck in the "what if" cycle (like what if I died in a freak accident), and things progress downhill so rapidly that I almost feel as though I'm in the middle of a war with demons and angels and the only thing that will make my mind "reset" is to say the name "Jesus" over and over and over again until peace settles over my mind and body.  Once upon a time, I lived with a particular, regular fear and felt that the devil himself tried to torture me with  my own thoughts.  Then I remembered how it is both illustrated and stated in the Bible that even the demons shuddered at the name of Jesus.  Thus my habit was born.  It works very effectively by the way.  Even more effective, however, is learning not to let my mind "wander" in the first place.  After all, minds don't wander without permission.

I think we women - more emotional, less logical - struggle immensely with our thoughts.  I think this is partially how some depressions are born.  When I was on b.c. our first year of marriage, I believe it was part wacko synthetic hormones and part lack of controlling my thoughts that caused my mild, yet still terribly unpleasant stint of depression.  I hesitate to even call it a depression because of how unrelatable and unrecognizable it seems compared to more severe cases, but it sure was.  You know, in retrospect.  I was clueless at the time.


I attend a beautiful Bible study at a church that we don't attend.   It is my NM bff's church, and it is just down the road from my house, which means it's a super convenient locale for a morning study for those of us (ahem) that are cranky, chronically late non-morning people.  (Recently learned bonus of attending a study at a church you aren't a part of: people don't corner you and ask you to serve in yet another area of ministry before of after the study.  In fact, they're not even sure at first if you're a Christian or not, so you can be a fat consumer for once.  ;-)  I might get busted for saying that. Bad Amelia.)  Annnnnyway, we all love our Bible study so much, that we refuse to break for summer.  So instead of our normal study, we have chosen a book to read that will take us through some Biblical truths - sort of book club style - for our casual summer study.

Enter Loving God with All Your Mind by Elizabeth George.

When I first read the title, I inwardly cringed.  It sounded boring and dry.  What does it even mean to love God with all your mind?!   Like really mean in an applicable, daily life sort of way???  I imagined it would be a fluffy, feel good sort of read that might annoy me in the end.

Then I read the little blip on the back of the book.  It was probably similar to the product description:

"Elizabeth George’s Loving God with All Your Mind (more than 200,000 copies sold) has been revised and expanded. Elizabeth lets women know that loving the Lord involves action! Focusing on six main scripture passages, she helps readers understand what it means to truly—


let your mind think on what is true about God and about life
grasp and move toward God’s purpose for life
trust the Lord in all things

Drawing on biblical wisdom as well as personal experience, Elizabeth helps women handle their emotions and discover inner peace that comes from focusing on what is true. She shares six powerful Bible truths that will help readers draw closer to God and know His joy and love."  (Thanks, Amazon.com.)


In just reading everything I could get Amazon to relinquish for free with their little "look inside this book" feature, I am pretty hooked.  I'm thinking about buying it, whipping through it, and then reading it again with the other gals for the summer study. Hmm.

Check out this quote from the book that a reader included in her review:

"There is nothing--no circumstance, no trouble, no testing--that can ever touch me until, first of all it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come this far, it has come with a great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment. But as I refuse to become panicky, as I lift up my eyes to Him and accept it as coming from the throne of God for some great purpose of blessing to my own heart, no sorrow will ever disturb me, no trial will ever disarm me, no circumstance will cause me to fret--for I shall rest in the joy of what my Lord is--That is the rest of victory."

One of the main themes of the book seems to be "think about whatever is true."

I've been thinking a lot lately about truth.  And likewise teaching Princess about what it means to tell the truth etc. (Reminds me of a quote from today that I don't want to forget: "Mom you're making me nervous. All those truths you are saying are making me nervous."  Well I had just told her this truth: if you don't eat your dinner, I will not give you any snacks and you will have to wait until breakfast in the morning."  I digress...) Our church (the one we do attend. ;-)) has been going through The Truth Project (by Focus on the Family).  It teaches a Biblical worldview in 12 different areas of life, is amazing, and I highly recommend it.  Even though we are almost done with that study, I can still recall something that hit me from Lesson 1.  This is not an exact quote: "Every sin that besets us can be traced back to the belief in a lie."

Sin deceives us.  Believing in lies can ruin our lives.

Then I started thinking that perhaps a lot of things that "beset us" can be traced back to the belief in a lie.  Some mental illnesses, physical conditions, etc.  We, as Christians and as a society, are so "intelligent and sophisticated" that we treat the symptoms of everything, rather than attacking a problem at it's root.  For example, patients request medication for you-name-it instead of changing their eating habits.  The lie:  my condition can only be treated with medication.  Or, medication is just as safe and effective as changing my diet, and it takes less effort on my part, so it is the best choice.  (Yes, I know, many conditions do require medication, but I would venture to say that most do not.)  Example two: Sally has a gossiping problem, so she's snagged a friend to help keep her accountable as she tries to learn to tame her tongue.  The lie: Sally's problem is that she does not control her mouth.   Truth: Sally needs to take her thoughts captive and not even dwell on the gossip to begin with.  If she's not thinking it, there's no chance she will say it.

With ALL of this rambling, the thing I really want to say is that I am jazzed to read to this book, and I want to know if anyone who reads my blog has read it?  If so, do tell.  Please.

I am excited to learn and grow.  Understanding what many people (women especially) struggle with regarding their thoughts and emotions, I believe that I have a decent grip on my thoughts (learned very slowly over years through circumstances that you don't want), but I'm sure that I'll be proven wrong quite soon.  Even just in reading the little excerpts of the text that I mentioned earlier, I am already realizing how my tendency to over-analyze everything and everyone (like trying to figure out her motive for saying such and such), can be a trouble spot in my thought life as I seek to "take every thought captive" and meditate a lot on Philippians 4:8:

"whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." 

Socially Awkward: "Compliments" That Make Me Uncomfortable

Either I am really good at feeling uncomfortable (very possible), or people are good at making comments that steer me that direction.   It doesn't really matter which is the case.   I think the real problem is that we as women are notorious for playing the comparison game.  And I'm not sure which is worse - comparing yourself to others and feeling like you don't measure up, or receiving comments that clearly reveal others are comparing themselves to you and feel that they are not measuring up.

Thankfully, I was raised with boys.  Though I have five sisters and six brothers, as the second oldest my childhood mostly centered around my older brother and my two immediately younger brothers.  (I was not blessed with my first wonderful sister until I was eight.)  I also consider myself extremely blessed to have also been home schooled through third grade.  Formative years, I tell you.  I think that those two things combined kept me pretty ignorant to the female curse of comparing every aspect of your life with that of other females.  Likewise, I also lack the ability to properly respond to women that constantly make such comparisons out loud.   Because I generally don't play the game, I never really learned the rules.  I think I'm beginning to figure it out though.  I believe it goes something like this:

Person A compliments person B in a wistful, "I wish I was like you" sort of fashion. 

Person B responds in denial of the compliment and flips the compliment around in order to build up Person A, since apparently Person A is in need of affirmation in that particular area.

Example:

Person A: "Oh you are such a wonderful cook!  I wish I was good in the kitchen (wistful tone)."
Person B: "Are you kidding me!?  I am just mediocre in the kitchen.  YOU, on the other hand, are an awesome cook.  Remember that _______ you made the other day?  I have never been successful at it."
Person A: (Responds, blah blah blah...on and on it goes.) 

Women talk to each other like this, call it a friendship, and expect men to interpret this nonsense when we throw it at them?!  (Poor guys.)
Jealousy, you are an ugly beast.  When most people think of jealousy, they picture the person who portrays resentment, but what about those who are the target of envy? 

I have a problem.  And I am going to try to say this without sounding completely conceited.  (I have been tremendously blessed in my life.  I don't deny that).  However, it seems that by perhaps some fault of my own, some people have developed quite a terrible misconception that I "have it all together," that I am pretty nearly perfect.   Huh?  I don't try to give anyone a false impression.  I am as human as the next person.  As I have caught onto this trend over the past few years, it has begun to make me feel extremely awkward around some folks.  Seriously, nothing has been more of an annoying burden in my adult life than people thinking that I am better than I am.  It is utterly ridiculous and just wrong.  It causes some women to feel as though they cannot be themselves in my presence, which both pains and confuses me.  I wish I knew what I was doing to cause this.  In fact, I sometimes tell self-incriminating stories and point out my faults all too easily in some social circles just to make sure that I don't mislead anyone.  Silly, right? 

However, it has not been successful, and I still receive lots of envious statements loosely disguised as compliments about my talents, parenting, body, marriage, intelligence, etc.  And then it hit me: I'm not fooling anyone.  They can see right through my stories of breaking dishes because I'm clumsy, and burning my neck with a curling iron during a morning rush.  They don't really care that I'm deaf in one ear, or that I can be as blunt and judgemental as the worst of humans.  It doesn't matter that I'm a housewife who doesn't like to cook.  You see, no one is actually as envious of my talents, parenting, body, marriage, intelligence, as it seems.

It's my confidence that they want.  When you know you're loved and accepted and made exactly, perfectly the way the Lord wanted you - and I mean really know it to the point that it permeates your heart and  affects your day-to-day choices -  why wouldn't you be confident in yourself?  I know who I am, I know what I want...and lately I'm realizing that not everyone can say that.    

I am also the sort of person that rarely sees any point in blubbering about all the things I dislike about myself or my life, so I suppose you won't hear the other side from me very often.  I just generally don't like to complain about my life, plain and simple.  Unless of course it's good material for humor.  

But just in case this blog - which I keep largely as a record for our family, particularly our children - aids in any misrepresentation of its author, I aim to set the record straight.   For the next week, I will only write negative posts about all things I hate about myself.

Or not. 

However, I will be sharing some real life "things I struggle with" posts in the near future.  (I would say this week, except that I'm going to be a road trip taking, family hosting, busy sort of lady for the next week-ish.  We will see.)

And in the meantime, if you're a person who is jealous of my moderate creativity, then please come help me organize my house so you can see the flip side (like how we "creative types" often struggle with organizational skills).  But whatever you do, don't compliment me on my creativity and then in the same breath say how much you wish you were creative.  How about you be you and I'll be me, and we'll both be happy with our own unique set of strengths.

I guess we'll take the accompanying weaknesses too. ;-)

Day 5 - No Facebook, No TV/Movies, No Sugar

Highlights of the first few days...

I went running on Friday.  It sucked.  After about 50 feet, I remembered why I hate running.  Out. Of. Shape.  That's what I am.  I ran about 2/3 of a mile with another 1/3 of a mile intermittently walking (catching my breath!).  I thought I was easing in nice and slowly.  Nope.  I spent a large part of Saturday on the verge of throwing up because of the way my body was reacting to the intense soreness.  I am not exaggerating when I say that even my toes were sore.  Can you believe my husband put up with my moaning and belly-aching all day Saturday?  I think he thought it was funny.  For heaven's sake, I gave birth to Natalie without meds.   I'll say it one more time and then I will try to be quite about it:  I HATE RUNNING.  And I'm going to do it anyway.  I go again today...now that I can walk again.  There will be much, much less running and more walking this time.  I'm just not as young as I used to be. :-(  It hasn't happened once in my 28 years, but maybe if I stick with it, I'll reach that endorphin stage people talk about?

I forgot to take Smooch to her chiropractic appointment on Friday.  Just totally spaced it.  Ugh.  Thankfully they could get her in today.  I just feel terribly for being a "no show." 

I have not tried to cheat and figure out the secret password that My Stud selected for my facebook account.  I do miss knowing what people are up to since folks don't call a girl. Then again, this girl doesn't call folks much either.  (Addition to my mental "to do" list.)  Except for my mom.  My mom calls me.  (Hi Mom!)

I obliterated My Stud in a rousing game of Yatzee the other night.  He does not like to lose.  :-)

After Yatzee, at Princess's winter-long request, we had a little family sleepover in the living room in front of the fireplace.  One night early this Winter (maybe even Fall?), our power was knocked out by a storm, so we used the fireplace to heat the living space and slept on the living room floor.  Every couple of hours, My Stud would get up (I would nudge him when I got cold - hee hee) and put another log on the fire.  We felt like pioneers.  Sort of.  Apparently, to the three-year-old, there is no greater fun than sleeping on the living room floor in front of the fireplace.

We played hooky from church on Sunday (Shhhh!) since we weren't needed to teach our classes that day (and were running horribly late), and I cannot remember having a more pleasant family day in quite some time.  Lunch in Durango, then back to NM for an afternoon of fruitless, but fun, fishing.

This was Princess's first time.  She has this purple and pink princess fishing pole she's been dying to put to use.  It was windy (and will be all Spring long), but the sun was delightful. 

Then we drove to the lake, discussed our summer camping plans, and made it home just in time to whip up some dinner, bean burritos! Below is a video of our little entertainer/messy eater:




My Stud has been playing his guitar a lot.  It has been so wonderful to fill the house with music rather than television.  He did some reading last night too.  I think I will join him in that.  I've got a long reading list I'd love to work on.

My Stud also prepped the smaller of our two garden plots.  I will plant my cold-weather plans (sugar snap peas, spinach, etc.)  this week or next. (We are still getting light nightly freezes.) He also pruned the apple tree in hopes that it (and some organic pest treatment) will help keep those nasty moth thing out of the apples so can get a good harvest from that tree this year.  The apples were soo tasty last year, but it was hardly worth cutting around the worm holes.  That and the infestation caused the apples to fall prematurely so our yard was full of tiny, green, infested apples.  It was a bit of a pain and sort of gross.  I hope it works!  I want apples. :-)

Let's see.  What else?  Oh I failed at making my own sprouted wheat bread for the second time in a week. That subject might get a post of it's own.  Good grief.  I am trying again today.  If I fail for a third time, I might just give it a rest, at least for now.

Smooch got her first goose egg and first split lip these past few days since she's begun crawling.  She seems to have had  little help from her sister with both injuries, but I can't be 100% sure since I didn't witness either.  I do know that Princess is pushing her to her physical limits, which is cool and...prone to cause injury.   We've had some little talks about encouraging sister to do things vs. physically trying to make her to them.  Smooch continues to make fantastic, exciting progress and we continue to try very hard to give Princess lots of extra attention to make sure she feels just as special and loved as Smooch.  We fail a lot, but we aware and are trying.  It helps that we allow Princess to stay up an hour later than Smooch, which results in 2 on 1 time, but she needs more than that to be sure.  Her behavior in making every bathroom experience and "emergency" is evidence of that.  In all reality, "no tv" is helping a TON with Bella, because that 2 on 1 time actually is 2 on 1 instead of 2 on 1 plus distracting device trying to steal our attention.

I tried to have Mary Kay party tonight, but no one wanted to/was able to come, so we had friends over last-minute for dinner instead.  Delightful!  We need to host dinners more often because we both love it and so do our kiddos. :-) 

All in all, I'd say our "no facebook, no tv/movies, no sugar" thing is going quite well.  At this rate, by the end of 40 days, I think we will see a more productive, more social, more close-knit family, and for that my heart is very, very glad. 

(This is turning into sort of a fun experiment.)

So Long, Farewell

The time has come.  I'm pulling the plug on facebook.  Oh I won't stay away forever, but (in addition to sugar), I decided to give it up for Lent this year.  My Stud and I traditionally like to give something up for Lent that we are either addicted to, is unhealthy, a waste of time, and that sort of thing.  So "why facebook?" (fb) you might ask?  Oh many, many reasons...

Fb waters down my communication, especially with family.
First of all, I have to say that I really enjoy facebook.  I have reconnected with countless friends, and after moving last year from AZ to NM, it has been in many ways a lifeline to friends and family from afar.  In fact, the reason I first got a fb is because my sister (in OR) was on fb and I wanted to be able to share photos with her in a quick, easy way.  Then most of my other college and teenage siblings joined one by one and it was a great way to keep in touch.  With one fell swoop, I could share the latest snapshots of Princess (Smoochie wasn't around yet) much more quickly than I could email pictures and try for the life of me to include everyone in the email.  But wasn't that why I started this blog?  So I have been double-dipping.  And I have become shamefully complacent about my non-internet communications.  Hello?  Pick up the phone and call a person! (I don't like the phone so much, but I need to get over it.)   So that's my first complaint:  fb is watering down my communication, especially with family. 

It has been getting in the way of my parenting.
I used to be so faithful about only getting on fb during nap time.  Then we moved to NM and I didn't know anyone here, and had a two-week-old baby to boot.  We holed up for Winter and stayed warm and healthy.  And I spent wayyyyyy to much time on Facebook, keeping up with all the loved ones we left behind in AZ.  But now we know lots of people, we don't have a two-week-old, etc etc.  And yet, here I am, totally addicted to fb still. 

It is so embarrassing to admit that.

It is taking time away from my husband in the evening.
My husband - who works his butt off for the record with 10 - 12 hour days every single day - likes to watch tv to wind down.  I don't.  I would prefer to watch a movie b/c the whole channel surfing concept makes me crazy.  So after the kids go to bed, he watches tv channel surfing style and I...get on facebook!  Puke.

Any guesses what he decided to give up for Lent on his own volition?  I need to ask him if he plans to include movies in that or not so I can mentally prepare myself for that one. :-)

The news feed is superfluous and dizzying.
I really really have no desire to see love notes between friends, who hung out with whom yesterday, and all that nonsense.   And yet it's the "what is everyone up to?" that I'm so addicted to when the correct response should be "Who cares!"  Most of my fb friends are not people I would interact with regularly anyway, and for those who I would/do (family, close and local friends), if they really want to tell me something, they would(should?) call me personally.  Or text.  Or even email.  Yes, the news feed makes me sort of crazy.  My husband would probably (correctly) say that it is because of my nosy (I prefer the word curious myself) nature that I am bound to this stupid thing.  People announce pregnancies, fun updates on their kids, engagements, divorces and all manner of juicy (and mundane) details of life, often accompanied with photos.  I feel like a passive gossip.  I don't really even want to know all of this stuff about people that I don't interact with regularly in real life.  And yet, every time I log on, there it is right in front of me, begging to be read.  For those people that I do interact with regularly, I would MUCH rather find out what it going on in their lives through a face-to-face or phone conversation.  Or even a text message.  Not a status update. 

The things I really like about facebook can be (mostly) accomplished through other means.
And when I return to it in April, I plan to make some positive changes in the way I utilize fb from then on out.  To help minimize the temptation to click over and log on, I already shut off my email notifications.  I might leave the notifications off permanently so that I log on occasionally, and not because people are beckoning to me.  ;-)


I could go on and on about all the reasons I'm quitting facebook in order to break my addiction to it.  But you see, I even went as far as deciding to set a time limit for my nap time computer time, and that time is almost up.

When I think about all the things we're cutting out - facebook, tv, sugar -  I start to get extremely excited about all the family time we will have.  More specifically, I'm excited about the way we will use our family time.  I think the first thing on our list is to take up "all family jogging" as soon as my husband gets home from work.  I have a feeling Clay and I will start playing board games and such for our "wind down together time" after the girls go to bed.  I think this will be great!

We start TOMORROW! 

Hmm...Now that I think about it, I had better have my husband change my fb password. Old habits die hard you know. (Thanks for that idea, Emily!)

Life Truth: The Colder the Winter, the Warmer the Spring

Photo from here.

I think it is beautiful how the Lord uses his creation to teach us truths about life. Take the changing of seasons from Winter to Spring for example...
Bambi II - "There is Life"

Under the snow,
Beneath the frozen streams
There is life...


You have to know
When nature dreams,
She dreams there is life...

And the colder the winter,
The warmer the spring
The deeper the sorrow,
The more our hearts sing
Even when you can't see it
Inside everything
There is life...

After the rain,
The sun will reappear
There is life...

After the pain,
The joy will still be here
There is life...

For it's out of the darkness
That we learn to see
And out of the silence
That songs come to be
And all that we dream of
Awaits patiently...
There is life...

______________________________

Dear Baby July,

They say that it's strange how you can miss someone that you have never even met, but I don't think it's strange at all. I miss you. Intensely. I think about you and your brother or sister October. Every. Single. Day. I imagine that you play so sweetly together in Heaven the way that your sisters play together on earth. Even though is has been several months since I said goodbye to you, sometimes I still lie awake at night and cry. And then I almost have to laugh because I know how blissful it is that you never have experience what it is like to feel that anguish. You have no concept of pain. But I have to admit, in my selfish human nature, I am not crying for you - for I know you are in better hands than mine - I cry for myself. Did I tell you I miss you?

Last month, we would have discovered whether you are a boy or a girl. Oh we were so anxious for that moment. Now it seems silly that your gender would have mattered to us at all. I just wanted YOU. I imagine that my belly would have been pretty swollen by now. I would have finally looked pregnant instead of frumpy. I think you would have been big enough for Daddy to feel your kicks, and I would have walked around rubbing my belly out of maternal habit by now. Did I tell you that I love you?

Well I do. Ever so much.

Love,

Mommy

__________________________

Sometimes, as a mother, I feel like a ball of raw emotion with large portions of my heart walking around outside of my body, and other parts of it hanging out in Heaven without me. I don't try to explain why things happen the way they do. I do hope in the Lord. I do wonder what He is teaching me through all of this. I do try to focus on loving the babies I do get to hold, savoring every moment of this sweet and terrible life.

Sometimes I feel afraid. Then the Lord tells me "Do not be afraid." Sometimes I feel angry. (I must admit there are moments when I want to have a literal tantrum.) Then the Lord softens my heart. Sometimes I think life is ugly and unfair. Then the Lord places on my heart those who have experienced greater loss than I, and those who have not been able to hold any of their children. We desire more children, and sometimes I feel faithless and impatient, ready to be pregnant riiiiiiight now. Then the Lord boosts my faith and gives me patience that I don't have in and of myself.

But one thing never changes: I always, always think of Baby October (due October 14, 2009, miscarried at 5 weeks on February 7, 2009) and Baby July (due on July 10, 2011, miscarried at 9 weeks on December 5, 2010). Mothers never forget their babies. All of them.

I look forward to the day when we lay eyes on each other for the first time, and we know one other at once.

Lies, Stuff, and Work (Post Edit)

Post edit:  Scroll to the bottom on this blog entry for some thoughts from a mom who recently decided to take the gutsy plunge to become a stay and home mom.  I think she is inspiring to say the least.

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In case you  haven't noticed, our culture is full of lies.  And most problems a person faces can be traced back to one root problem: their belief in a lie.  I'm sure that I believe in lies of which I am not even aware.  However, I have also been set free from certain prevalent lies by TRUTH, so now I can see those particular lies clearly.  And let me tell you, it breaks my heart to see other people flounder in their lie-bound state, confused, deceived. 

So  now I'm going to write about one of those lies, and I will probably offend people.  Ready?  I'm about to dispel a lie.... 

You don't need STUFF to make you happy.  In fact, you don't need STUFF period.

Earth shattering.

Do you realize that most people will claim to believe this, but their actions prove that they actually believe in the lie?  "Stuff makes you happy."  That's why we chase after it with such desperation as though our very lives are at stake.

Dave Ramsey calls this worship of stuff "stuff-itis".  Appropriate because it sounds like a disease, a deep-rooted, American disease.  The Bible calls it idolatry. 
"You will have no other gods before me." ~ God

But we have lots of gods that take up our time and money.  Flat screens, nice cars, the latest fashions, even little things like toys for our kids, and lofty things like good education.
And now to get to my point.  I have heard the laments of  literally dozens of mothers that tearfully but dutifully go to work full time in order to help their husband provide for the family.  Their hearts pull them homeward.  Their heads push them out the door.  They don't want to work.  They clearly state that they are working "against their will" or "because it is necessary to make ends meet."  Then they go about their American life, dropping off the kids to daycare, driving a car they owe money on, texting on their iphone, living in Suburbia, U.S.A., living the dream.  Right?

Doing what society and everyone tells them they're supposed to do.  Buying on credit what their grandparents worked a lifetime to obtain, and what some of their parents still don't have.  It's like a mad frenzy to acquire...stuff.

Stuff has become more important than people.

And we as mothers can get so wrapped up in it, that we lose sight of our priorities and we get so confused.  Not only do we believe in the lie, but sometimes we lie to ourselves and to others in order to rationalize our actions. 

I'm tired of it.  I'm tired of moms complaining about how they "have" to work when they could drastically cut the budget.  If you want more money, stop spending it all!  I'm tired of husbands who practically beg their wives to return to work because he just can't do it without her, and then as soon as she does, he starts eyeing a new truck.  I'm tired of wants being confused for needs.  I'm tired of people doing what's expected of them because it's the norm.  I'm tired of Christians being no different than anyone else on this matter, except that they use a lot of spiritual words when they discuss it. 

If you want to work, then work, and do it unto the Lord.  I'm not talking about you.  If you are married and your husband works, and you don't want to work, or if you feel a conviction against it while your kids are young, then don't work.  It really is that simple.  It will be uncomfortable because your life will have to look a little different than it might otherwise.  A lot different? But I think you will discover some of life's greatest treasures in those moments that you can't get back.

Step 1:  Stop comparing yourself to everyone.  And especially, in your comparisons, stop trying to be everyone else.

Step 2:  Change something.

If you desire to stay home and raise the kids yourself, either change your situation or stop complaining.  If you complain about how badly you want to stay with your kids, but you're not even willing to give up the superficial, unimportant things like highlights in your hair, (sorry but) I would really question your priorities.  Your actions and your words need to line up, or else nobody wants to hear about it.  That is a harsh but true reality.
Some people might (rightly) say that I have it pretty good so I don't actually know what these sacrifices look like.  Yes, we have been blessed as my husband changed his major to a more one-income-friendly occupation back when we were dating.  However, most people don't realize that our student loan payments equal that of a mortgage payment.  We live very simply by the standards of our culture, and even when our student loans are paid off, I believe we will still choose the simple life.  Knowing that our family will be growing in the future, we have saved cash and are making plans to purchase a larger vehicle (with 75,000 + miles), but we currently drive a Hyundai Elantra with over 100,000 miles on it, so we don't have a car payment.   And don't forget, I was raised by a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) who was a SAHM even when it meant we had to live in a trailer, and then later upgrade to two-bedroom apartment where four children resided with their two parents.  I remember well our apartment days, and I have news for you:  kids don't care about things like apartment vs. house, compact car vs. suv.  They don't want stuff; they want you.  (Just in case you worry about depriving your kids. ;-))

Here are some daring changes both big and small that I have seen women make in order to make being a SAHM more feasible:

Cut the cable ($30/mo.)
Cancel cell phone service ($50/mo.)
Dye your hair to it's natural color and stop highlighting, and cut it to a lower maintenance style. ($20/mo. when averaged)
Sell your car and be a one-vehicle family (Yes, wake up in the morning and take your husband to work) ($300/mo. conservative estimate for payment and gas alone, not incl. maintenance)
Stop eating out.  Completely. ($50/mo.)
Make food from scratch to cut the grocery budget (even bread if you get crazy!) ($20/mo.)
Drink water, not juice, not milk, not soda. ($20/mo.)
Don't buy yourself any clothes for awhile - unlike your kids, you're not growing and you won't wear them out. ($50/mo.)

Just on those few items I listed off the top of my head, with my very conservative #s, you could easily save $540 a month just like that! This does not include money saved in childcare, and this is just scratching the surface. I didn't even include some of the key things that I personally do such as use cloth diapers.


Stop shopping for anything but grocery items - maybe you have bad habits you need to break. Some of us have more diverse spending habits than others ;-)  If you rent, move into a smaller house in an older neighborhood...or *GASP*, move into an apartment.  (We saved over $600/mo. by moving from our condo across the street from a golf course, to a slightly run-down rental in an old neighborhood. $600 a month!!! When we move again, eventually, we'd like to shoot for saving an additional $200/mo. Though we won't compromise safety, we are pretty motivated to pay off our student loans during this time that my husband's job has us uprooted and moving around.)
Additionally, here are things I have seen moms do to help with the income while raising the children and keeping home in order:

Part-time work-from-home position for a company
Providing childcare for other working moms (I did this for over 2 years.)
Selling Mary Kay, Pampered Chef, etc.
Clean houses
My mom even had a paper route at one point and took us along. :-)

I swear if one more person tells me how envious they are of me because I get to spend my days pouring into the lives of my daughters, while they have always "had" to work to make ends meet, but then they continue to make expensive choices, I may start screaming.  For so many of them think they are helpless victims of life.  They have made themselves slaves to their stuff, and that is why they feel they have to work.  They don't own anything.  Their stuff owns them.  It is so frustrating to see this cycle and it makes me so profoundly sad for the deceived among us.  After all, for most of us, our children are our only truly lasting legacy.

God help us to see ourselves clearly.  We need your TRUTH - Jesus.  Help us to be good stewards of our children - like everything else, they are yours and not ours.  Help me to see the lies that I believe in other areas of my life and recognize them for what they are.  Make me like you, even when the process hurts.

With her permission, please go read this vulnerable post that my friend Emily wrote about her personal struggle with this very subject.  (Love ya, Emily!  And happy first day on the new job!)

Just In Case This Means Something to Anyone Else

Once upon a Febuary in 2009 I had an early miscarriage that rocked my world.  I blogged about it here.  Only I didn't happen to mention any specifics at the time.  Since that portion of the post is somewhat buried in my monologue about our firstborn daughter, I have copied and pasted it below.  Every word of it is as true today as it was then.  Jesus you are so beautiful, how you strengthen our spirits and soften our hearts in difficult times, if only we let you.

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In whom, in what, do you put your trust? Through tumultuous events, both from my own life and the lives of others around me, God is teaching me a seemingly basic truth. Fundamental, but challenging. God has personally blessed us. That is obvious to me. But in his blessing, I don't want my focus to shift from Him to his blessing. I want to live with an "open palm" mentality. Not open palm meaning, ready to receive, but open palm meaning that I don't cling to things or people in such a way that I place my trust in them. That my focus shifts away from Jesus. I want to give everything I have to God each day because they're not mine to begin with. I want to live like everything is on loan from him.

Don't we try to treat things better that aren't ours anyway? Being sort of clumsy and awkward with...things...I have broken something that belonged to someone else on more than one occasion. That feeling is more terrible than if I had broken ten of my own somethings. I want to live like my house isn't mine. I want to live like my husband doesn't belong to me. The same goes for my daughter. My husband's job. Everything. They belong to the Lord. He has let me have them for a time and a time only. I want to live like I really believe that.

This does not come out of fear of loss; I have experienced loss before and I know that if I had to do it again, I could...because I have Hope. So I am not afraid. Rather this is entirely about my attitude. I want to be humble. Few things are uglier to me than arrogance. I want to be thankful in all things. I think the Bible repeats "be thankful", and "with thankfulness" so much because we are so prone to become spoiled little children, demanding things from God. And adopting at attitude of thankfulness can transform a person. I will go as far as to say that I believe it is the only way to experience true happiness.

Be thankful. Be humble. Live like your trust is really in Jesus and not yourself (your abilities), not a job, not your things, not your husband, not your kids. That is what I yearn for. This is what God has been teaching me lately.

There is a difference between finding joy in things, relationships and such and getting your worth from them. Letting those things define you. For instance, I find it extremely satisfying to make things with my hands. (I think it's in my genetics.) That's why I think it is fun to sew. However, I have to be on guard to not let my value come from being crafty or get my identitfy from being a "homemaker." God tells me who I am. Not the way I interact with my daughter on any given day. Or the fact that I even have a child. Not the fact that I have many years of college behind me. Not whether I packed my husband's lunch or let him do it himself. Not whether I have a career or stay home with my kid. Not anything that I feel. Not what anyone else tells me. If I chased those things in order to find value, I would be placing my trust in them. Wouldn't I be train wreck when things didn't go as planned?! Nevertheless, it is a constant learning process.

Here is an excerpt from my journal last month (I know, I blog and I keep a journal. Good for me.) Forgive me if this is somewhat redundant:

February 24, 2009

Some Psalms that stick out to me tonight:

Psalm 144:3-4 - "O Lord, what is man that you regard him, or the son of man that you think of him? Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow."

Psalm 146:3-5 - "Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man in whom there is no salvation. When his breath departs, he returns to the earth; on that very day his plans perish. Blessed is he whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God."

I find it comforting to know that in all times - in joy or in sorrow - God is deeply moved on my behalf and He even knows the very number of hairs on my head and goings on of the insignificant sparrow. However, I really enjoy scriptures that put life into perspective. That remind me to be humble and thankful in all things. To remember that in the grand scheme of life and eternity, my problems are not so overbearing

I feel as though in the wake of [things], God is whispering in his still, small voice, "In whom do you put your trust? From what do you gain your value?" My answer should not be my daughter and my future children. I should not put my trust in my husband [I should trust him, yes, but not put my trust, my hope in him]. Or his job. My value should not be determined by my accomplishments as daughter, wife or mother.

These are concepts that I have nearly always known and understood, but to take them to heart and live with an "open palm" mentality is different. My husband does not belong to me. My daughter is not mine. They are the Lord's. If I have learned anything [this is where I omitted specifics about the miscarriage in the original blog post] it is that I must continue to give my family over to God each day. It's hard to comprehend that He loves them more than I do (or ever will) but that's the reality of it, so they're better off in His full care anyway. But, man, will I thank Him everyday for lending them to me for awhile!

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P.S.  Don't worry.  Light-hearted family update posts will ensue.

A Less Noble Perspective on Why Be a SAHM

Yesterday I was washing the dishes, staring out the kitchen window feeling a little melancholy that most of our lovely apple blossoms have already made their light descent to the grassy ground beneath. 

Then my mind drifted to my two captivating daughters.  I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet to be able to stay home and raise them.  I've always wanted to be where I am today, so in many ways, I feel like I'm living out my simple dream.  

I remember a conversation my husband and I had after we had been dating for a whopping month.  It was about kids and family.  How we both wanted some.  How I desired to raise them myself rather than work outside the home and take them to daycare.  How he spent many many hours in daycare and turned out fine.  How he didn't know an abundance good, productive stay-at-home moms - ones who didn't become overweight sitting on the couch waching soaps (or so it might seem), so the idea didn't seem entirely attractive to him. 

Then something amazing happened.  He changed his college major to something that would make a better living and provide stability.  Something that would allow us to be an one income family and not be totally strapped.  What an act of love!  I'm still scratching my head today really.

As I continued my thoughts, I began to ponder why I am a stay at home mom.  What compelled me to desire this life?  What motivates me when I'm feeling worn out?  I could say things about molding young minds.  I could talk about how no one can love a child as much as his/her mother and how terrible it feel to hand my child off to paid daycare employees while I shuffle off to work.  Before the birth of our second daughter, I might have talked of honorable things like spiritual training or the importance of tending the home.  I could have easily listed twenty noble reasons why, for me, it is important to stay home and raise the kids.   And those things were and are all true.

But now?

Over 2 1/2 years later, we have (mostly) nipped tantrums in the bud, imparted the beginnings of good manners (repetition repetition repetition), spent countless hours learning and implementing good nutrition (which means homemade everything and prepackaged almost nothing), just barely skimmed the surface of spiritual and heart training, and added an infant to the mix to make things interesting.  Oh and we get dressed every day and brush our teeth twice a day and wash our hands after...everything.  The days are gone so quickly. 

Then I find myself in a rare quiet moment wondering what I would say if someone asked me why I do what I do, instead of what it seems most everyone else does.  And do you know the best thing I could come up with in this exhausting phase of toddler-plus-infant?  In my head, it goes something like this:

All my life I have been decent at lots of different things.  I can sing, but I can't read music.  I can speak Spanish, but I'm not fluent by any means.  I can pass any test I prepare for, but I won't remember any of it later.  Those are really silly examples off the top of my head, but you get the idea.  I can do so many things, just well enough to get by.  It's been my mantra so to speak.  I've been a jack of all trades in life, interested in so many things, but not sticking with one thing long enough (or with enough intensity) to become truly great at any one of them.  Lacking focus.  Driven but...busy.  Certainly divided. 

I cannot imagine the plight of the working mom because, thankfully, I don't have to walk in those shoes.  But I do know the life of a working wife.  Did I cook dinner in those days?  Hardly.  And I have to add here that I have seen several working moms who truly are great both in their jobs and as mom.  But mostly I see a lot of women who are in survival mode.  And I know myself.  I would be in survival mode.  I would get home from work too exhausted to parent with consistency.  I would give in to tantrums because it would take less energy than resisting.  I would stop reminding Princess to use her manners because sometimes I'd just be too tired to care that she's rudely demanding snacks.  Don't get me wrong.  I would do my best, but my best would be tinged with "unfocused", "busy" and "divided."  And my inconsistency would manifest itself in my most precious children.  Not to mention my poor husband.

Especially now that I'm outnumbed, I can say that motherhood is seriously hard work.  I am far from having it all figured out.  Stated bluntly, staying home to raise our children has gone from "childhood dream with the most honorable intentions and goals" to "how in the world would I do all this if I was working full time!?"  Sometimes I still find myself in survival mode, but since being mom and wife is my main focus, survival mode shows up on one day (or week) or another, but it isn't my normal way of life.    In fact, some days I think it might be nice to drop the kids off with someone else for once and stroll into the office.  I've even had my former boss call me more than once with a tempting job offer.  

I refuse to be divided.  These sweet gifts are not little forever, and for the sake of their future I am determined that I will give my absolute best and become great at this thing called motherhood.  Even if it is the only thing I ever focus on long enough to achieve, to me, it is the one that counts the most. 

 

 

I'm Amelia and I definitely wrote this post in 5 sittings over the course of two weeks.  Apple blossoms at the top of the post?  Looooong gone!

Stream of Consciousness

The water here makes my hair super shiny!  Actually, I can't remember my hair ever looking this healthy in my whole life.  In fact, Princess's hair is rather shiny too.  I wonder if it's minerals or what?  Which reminds me, my cloth diapers come cleaner faster in this water than in Arizona.  I love that! 

I'm thinking about giving up chocolate for awhile because it is my one sugar downfall.  I normally don't struggle with sugar addiction in the same way most of this country seems to, but I do occassionally go through a chocolate phase where I can hardly resisit chocolate, consuming larger amounts of sugar than is healthy. My latest chocolate phase is lasting so much longer than usual that I think fasting it for month or so may be my only cure!

Since when does Princess put on her own socks, and when did she learn to button buttons!?  I think these are both new this last week, but now that I am a mother or two, things have a way of escaping my attention a little longer than in my previous life.  So I can't say for sure.  Princess's growing independence is both exciting and sad to me.  The first few months of a child's life is spent totally dependent on Mom, and nearly everything after that is a step toward independence.  Steps away from the parents. 

I've been thinking lately about how I want to teach our children to say "no."  Does that sound backwards or what? :-)  In all sincerity, it's important for a child to realize he/she is able to say no to things.  For instance, I will never try to force my daughters to hug and kiss people (aka family) if they don't want to.  It's important for them to understand that they don't owe anyone their affection.  Likewise, they should not let people (playmates, etc.) treat them anyway they like.   I think it is so sad that so many parents (including myself at times!) try to raise respectful, obedient, compliant children who then later turn out to be passive adults who discover they can't make a decision for themselves and are so afraid of doing the wrong thing that they can't do anything.  Then they let people walk all over them, all in the name of being polite and agreeable, but are really agreeable for the wrong reasons and are often bitter with the people for whom they bend over backwards to please.  Not to mention, they lack the resolve to say no to evil.  Oh my!  Not my children. 

All of that to say that I am sad to see how quickly our children grow because I always love exactly where we are today; however, I do not fear their growing independence and eventual separation from us, the parents.   It's just all the more reason to cherish the moment, right?  And to parent on purpose with specific goals in mind like I rambled about here.

Okay, obviously, I'm reading a good book.  I usually don't pull these ideas out of thin air as much as I am inspired. 

Which reminds me, I am crazy about etsy.com.  Oh I've perused the site here and there over the past few years, but lately I have been stopping by find inspiration.  I want to make a Quiet Book, for example, like this one.  Or maybe one that has buttons and zippers and shoelaces to tie.  Maybe both. 

Oh note to self, don't forget to start a journal for each of the girls. I need a place to record some things for them, that's not on the computer.You know, hysterical toddler quotes and the like.

Lately,  I've been "feminizing" the otherwise gender-neutral (nursery) decor of what is now the girls' room.   I can't paint walls since we're in a rental house, but I can make fabric flowers!  I'm sure I'll share pictures later.  :-)

Well I feel better after dumping my random thoughts out onto this "page."  Sometimes I just need to empty my brain out a little bit so the thoughts stop swirling around in such an out-of-control fashion. ;-)

P.S. Where is the spell check button!?

Slightly Disorganized Late Night Thoughts on Parenting

I'm up late with the baby thinking about weighty things like how I want to parent our children with specific goals in mind.  For instance, I want our daughters to be women of strong character when they are grown.  That means I need to make parenting choices that move us specifically in that direction.  Today.

I refuse to parent haphazadously.  It's too great of a privilege to be taken lightly.  We instill character (good or bad) starting right now.  That means parenting must be done very intentionally, teaching lessons in daily life even when they are not fun to teach.  We say "no" sometimes to things when it is easier to say "yes."   A lot actually. 

I think good parenting should feel like hard work much of the time. 

I do and will fail all the time, which is why I need God's grace. 

One of the things Princess is currently learning is delayed gratification. How much better would the world be if more parents taught their children delayed gratification!  Just thinking about the difference it would make in debt/spending habits in our country alone is mind-boggling.  I'm practicing delayed gratification at this very moment - Do you think Smooch will let me go to bed before 1 a.m. tonight?  Will I get to take a shower tomorrow?  ;-)

I started to ponder these things two days ago when Princess pointed out to me that Tinkerbell (on a greeting card) was "NAKED!"  So my two-year-old recognized that a cartoon fairy is a little scantily clad.  No big deal, right?  Well...it is a big deal if I am thinking futuristically, with specfic goals in mind for my child. 

You see, Tinkerbell also resides on our daughter's bedroom wall (along with some of her more well-behaved Disney friends).  Everything we do or don't do - everything we expose our children to - teaches them what is acceptable, normal, good...or otherwise.  Isn't that frightening!?  It's humbling really.  Obviously we can't shield our children from everything we think is undesirable, but we certainly can choose what we put in front of them and what we let into our homes.  I choose to recognize the influence my husband and I have on creating our daughter's "normal."   We discussed it briefly the other night.

We have given Tinkerbell the boot. 

She will not be teaching our daughter how a lady dresses and she will certainly not be teaching her how one acts.  Will we allow Princess to watch Peter Pan someday (when our somewhat sensitive, nightmare-prone child is more likely to enjoy it)?  I'm sure we will!  But we won't be celebrating Tinkerbell or hanging her picture on our walls.  Well, not anymore. ;-)

Thanks for bringing that up, daughter.

In Which I Tell You How We Like It

"How do you like it there?"  seems to be the most common question thrown our way from friends and family since our move from warm, sunny Arizona to (an exceptionally cold winter in) New Mexico.   I will tell you!

For starters, let me just say that in many ways life in New Mexico will never measure up to life in Arizona for the simple fact that our family and friends are not here with us.  We went from the majority of my husband's family living a few miles down the road, to not knowing a soul.  We miss our family and we miss our friends!

Other than the "small" matter of starting from scratch in a new community, I have to tell you that I almost shock myself with how much I like it here.  Even starting from scratch has it's own excitement.  More importantly, the people, though all strangers thus far, are so friendly that it seems impossible to truly feel lonely.  

For example, on Monday I went to the grocery store with the girls.  Instead of pushing the double stroller while pulling the shopping cart behind me like I did last week, I decided to take advantage of the shopping carts with a toddler-sized car attached to the front of it.  Naturally, Princess "drove" us around the store with great delight, but after checking out I noticed a sign that instructed shoppers not to take the carts with the cars outdoors.  No problem.  I simply emptied all of my groceries and children into a less exciting cart, and off we went...except the alarm went off and the cart's front wheels locked up before I could exit.  (Apparently this is part of a new security system to prevent pharmacy cutomers from leaving without paying for their prescriptions.  The device is deactivated by going through the checkout line.) 

The person who had this cart before me should have been in trouble, but instead I looked like the criminal.  As soon as this happened, a sweet middle aged woman and her elderly mother stopped and the younger woman exclaimed, "The same thing happened to my mom just last week!"  Then her mother came up to me and proceeded to explain her story with great empathy until the security officer arrived and set me free.  

If this had happened at the grocery store in a big city, I can almost guarantee you I would have been lucky if a stranger cast a sympathetic glance in my direction.  Certainly no one would have gone out of their way to keep me company and make me feel comfortable in that awkward situation.  And that is just how friendly people are here, and is only one of the many examples I could site.  Folks just chat with you like they know you (or want to know you).  It just jives with me.  So when we wonder where we should buy a piece of furniture around here (the internet is not the best resource), we simply ask the random couple at the store as we're chatting.

As trite as this may be, we also enjoy the weather.  It has been almost 9 years (!!!) since I moved from Portand, Oregon to attend college in the desert.  And just as Portland leaves a person aching for reprieve from the incessant rain, so Phoenix had worn me out on it's sunshine...particularlly the variety of sunshine that chases most of us indoors for roughly half the year.  Where we're at in NM, we anticipate the variety of four distinct seasons, and have already enjoyed lovely snowfall.  For the first time in years, I wear socks daily.  My feet didn't realize how much they missed the comfort of socks until reunited with them.  Oh the bliss!   At the warmest point in the summer, temperatures may reguarly hit the 90s, but won't evenings in the 60s be lovely?

Next, we love My Stud's work commute.  In Arizona, his commute took 45 minutes one way without traffic.  Now, he is home in 10 minutes!  This means he no longer has to wake up at 4:30 a.m. which means that he can stay up later after getting home from work earlier.  I haven't caculated it minute for minute, but I would venture to guess that our family time each day has nearly doubled each evening! 

This town is small, but it's not too small.  Roughly 40,000 people live here and the population doubles on weekends because it is the hub of the region so a lot of folks from smaller towns come here to shop on weekends.  So even though it is a small town by our standards, it still feels lively at times.  And the rest of the time?  This town has a slower pace.  The speed limits are lower, people pull out of parking spaces more slowly, and generally aren't in a hurry.  The city girl in me may feel impatient at certain moments but the calm demeanor of those around me seems to quickly rub off in those situations.  It feels good to slow down a little bit, and realize that life is not a rat race after all.

Right now it is pretty cold - low 40s during the day, and temperatures often dip into the teens at night.  It just so happens that holing up for the Winter is pretty compatible with having a newborn baby, so I'm happy to do it!  For now, we're enjoying lots of family time indoors, on the hunt for a church to join, and slowly becoming acquainted with this new home of ours.  A trip to the children's museum will be in order soon as well.  (See?  There are lots of great "city" amenities still.)  In the Spring, we will start venturing outdoors, likely taking up hiking and fishing.  I hear both are excellent in these parts. 

Antsy

Do you ever feel antsy? I've been feeling antsy. Thoughts fly around my head, I make lists that I ignore, and I feel a sudden urge to do something drastic...to my hair. I think having to wait on things that I have zero control over makes me feel this way. Do I trust God to take care of us regardless of circumstances? Yes! And I'm not perfect. Being a bit of a planner and not being able to plan just makes me antsy. We need to rework our budget but we are missing important numbers. I can't find the nail clippers I just bought for my daughter so I'm stuck with the old, mostly broken one. What are we doing this weekend again? I've written half a dozen blog posts over the past two weeks that I haven't published...because they just weren't right after I finished them. (Does anyone else ever do this?) It's a miracle I remembered my appointment with the dentist yesterday morning.

The thing that is driving me the most nutso is the not knowing what we will do with our condo while we're gone. I will not go into lengthy details, but I will say this: we cannot make a decision without all the information. An important piece of information that is missing is whether or not the company will give us any subsistence for housing in NM. I do not lose sleep over this, but my thoughts do get all...swirly...from time to time.

This morning I read Isaiah 55:9 -

"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."

I'm pretty sure this whole thing isn't as big to God as it is to us. Okay, time to stop thinking myself to death and give it to God. Again. And again. And AGAIN. I needed the reminder. :-)

Conflicting Emotions

Sipping on peppermint tea, I'm still feeling cozy from last night's storm. I love storms. And these desert thunderstorms? They often come at appropriate times...when the clashing thunder and rushing rain reflect some of the deeper goings on of my heart.

Rain pounds on the windows, making a terrible racket. Water gushes across the roads and sits in deep puddles, posing a hazard for motorists. Wind whips through the trees, making them bend and often snap. Debris pummels the side of the house. The unexpected clash of thunder overhead causes me jump with it's startling power.

And I love to sit right in the middle of it, letting the rain soak my body. I relish a drive in it. I can't stop staring out the living room window. I just love storms. Though what seems wild and out-of-control can make me nervous at moments, mostly I enjoy them because I know that God controls what I cannot. There is beauty in knowing that.

Then the thunder slowly fades in the distance. The lightning ceases to crack the sky. The rain continues to fall a little more slowly and then disappears as swiftly as it came. Morning comes. Mountains are clearly visible where dust previously impeded the view. A cool breeze momentarily blows in, making me forgetful of the intolerable heat that surrounded me just yesterday. From my perspective, it isn't just the landscape that looks a little more fresh and new.

I'm so Hot That I Can't Even Think of a Title

We must be overdue for a camping trip or some such summer delight, because i cannot seem to stop thinking about this:


And this:


Something must be done about this wandering mind of mine because I still have awholelotta this to look forward to:


*Sigh* At least next month should bring a little bit of this:



Do you remember what is was like to be a little kid and not feel the heat of summer or the cold of winter in quite the same way as you do now that you've grown? I do! I remember being informed that it was hot (or cold) by adults all the while thinking, "So why can't I play outside?"

In all reality, I can't complain. We have had one of the nicest Junes (as much as the idea of "nice" and "summer in the desert" can even go together) in my memory of 8 years of residence. That, or the heat is really starting to effect my memory. You decide.

*I did not create any of the images in this post. In fact, I can't even tell you who did because it seems folks on the internet seldom give credit to the original artist these days. *sigh*

Coconut Lime, How You Haunt Me

I can't stand the smell of B & BW's coconut lime scent. I'll catch someone else wearing it once in awhile and I find myself overtaken by feelings of euphoria and disgust. I want to cry and laugh and vomit, all at the same time. It's funny how scents trigger memories so quickly and clearly.



Once upon a time, five years ago almost to the day, my college roommate Angela and I set out for a grand adventure in a little place called Imbochi, Bolivia. Oh we fell in love with South America instantly and found no end of laughs upon encountering wonderful cultural oddities. We also shed more tears than I ever imagined possible. Our summer was to be spent among the 62 children at a severely understaffed orphanage overlooking a river, the name of which we never learned. Nor did we ask.

We lived in a large room with two dressers, two twin beds, and two wardrobes that appeared to have been from the 1950s. In my wardrobe, under my clothes, I stashed peanut butter and crackers to eat between meals because many of them largely consisted of what we affectionately referred to as "pig head soup" (which was mostly broth). I'm not being cute. It was made by boiling these over and over until all the flavor had been extracted into hundreds of bowls of soup over the course of several...weeks? (who was keeping track anyway):



Over the course of the next several months, we became intimately familiar with many of the children's' stories. Zenaida was rescued from child prostitution. Reina - who refused to share her real name - was sold by her uncle to an older man to be his "wife." He called her Reina, which means "queen." Abran had parents. They just couldn't manage to keep him and his brother, so they sent them to the home. With a hollow expression, he recounted times when he went hungry at home. Lorena, the youngest of four sisters in the home (other older siblings were already on their own), her parents died from alcohol poisoning. So the stories went. Sixty-two stories like these.

(Lorena with a "langosta," as they called them)

Angela and I taught, tutored, did laundry side-by-side with the children, played never ending games, and gave thousands of hugs. I missed my boyfriend. We clipped nails and cut hair. We helped to butcher a cow and then we ate it. We called home. We peeled yucca, and planned Bible lessons. We splashed coconut lime scented body spray on our clothes because sometimes we just needed to smell fresh. We laughed and we wept. We witnessed extremely harsh treatment and were informed it was merely a cultural difference. We prayed, we laughed, we wept. We survived their winter with no heat and cold showers. We became angry in learning that in most areas our hands were tied. We prayed more. And most of all, we loved.

Then May turned into August and we left as quickly as we had come. Tears abounded and parting words haunted me more than my newly acquired lice. We left the children just as it seems everyone had always left them. Though almost all of the children were believers, they had a hard time comprehending that God does not leave them. I can't say that I blamed them, given their histories.

We both experienced reverse culture shock once back in the U.S. We still wept. A week passed. I got engaged! (Shock added to shock. :-)) Months passed. I hated that I finally felt almost "normal." A year passed. I got married to my love. S everal more years later and that brings me to about four weeks ago...

Enjoying coffee with a friend, Bella reached down and grabbed a cigarette off the ground. GROSS! My friend passed me her hand sanitizer and I quickly slathered a liberal amount onto both of our hands. Then the scent drifted upward and suddenly jerked me into a past life. The whole drive home, the coconut lime overwhelmed my sensitive nose, memories flooding back in a wonderful, terrible torrent. Though I was able to quickly wash the smell off of our hands, the memories still followed me around the rest of the day, lingering like a lovely dream, haunting like an gruesome nightmare.

Three months is really just a brief flash, but that was a time in my life from which I cannot seem to recover. After all, I don't think a person is supposed to recover from heartbreak caused by taking on the burdens of the abandoned. It leaves you raw and vulnerable if you let it, and out of its wake, beautiful things will come.

___________________________

I didn't have a purpose in mind when I sat down to write this post, but I think it is appropriate at this point to direct you to a friend's blog. She and her husband are in the beginning stages of adopting a little orphan girl from Eastern Europe with Down's Syndrome named Anastasia, which stragely is also the name of my 5-year-old sister who also has Down's (weird!). You can read about the adoption here. Please join me in praying for this sweet little girl and her soon-to-be family!