It's been a long time!
I have meant to post on numerous occasions and and a wide variety of topics, but it's been a busy month. After taking off in June, we began again the beginning of this month, and there has been much I've wanted to say on that note, but have needed more time. Perhaps I'll get around to it soon. The first half of the month, Dave was still working out of town, and while we were all still very grateful for God's provision of work for him, his prolonged absences were beginning to wear on us all. I was just beginning to think that I would rather lose our car, if it meant having him home, than spend another week as a single parent. That said, we were also just beginning to get a real rhythm, so that the last couple of weeks, he would actually come home to a fairly clean house. But he was informed late one week that he wouldn't be needed down in Charleston anymore, and that was that. Unfortunately, we are finally faced with the problem that we have eluded all these months - there is simply not enough work locally. The past two weeks, it hasn't mattered so much, but we will be feeling it soon enough. When he arrived home yesterday morning, with an unpaid day off ahead of him, I was happy, on the one hand, that we could enjoy some time with him, but on the other hand, warding off feelings of anxiety and despair. We've been able to maintain an "emergency fund," for which I am so thankful (we won't starve, at any rate!), but it is hardly enough to keep us afloat while his work hours are cut in half. No, indeed. So August may be a trying month for us, during which we learn complete trust in our God who provides.
I am immensely grateful, though, that I am able to approach this storm in a state of relative happiness - i.e., in a state "I'm not feeling crazy" kind of stability. I have, in the words of my therapist when first assessing things for me last year, "a severe anxiety disorder," which I learned to cope with (often in fairly healthy ways) from childhood - and I wouldn't dare to underestimate the victory the Lord has given me in it. I've had a few dark episodes over the course of my life, but overall, I've generally been able to function without outside help. After Chase was born, however, a variety of factors, one of which was probably postpartum depression, pushed me into the longest "episode" I've ever had. So I've been struggling with this for the past couple of years, sometimes grappling with almost debilitating anxiety. (Last fall I had such a bad episode that when I emailed my therapist, she wanted to see me immediately, for free, which seems almost funny now) I haven't mentioned it often, and sometimes people are surprised to hear it - because I have learned to hide it without even thinking, as well as to cope - and I only mention it now to highlight the exhilarating difference. The abnormal (which I won't even begin to describe for you) was beginning to become my personal normal - even though I did my very best, and usually succeeded for the most part, in rising above it for my children's' sake - when somewhere in the last few months, I came out of the very long tunnel. Some of the OCD traits (and I don't mean the amusing TV variety, or the kind that everyone says they have when in fact they just like to be organized or clean) that have just become a part of who I am are still with me, but those I can handle, and in fact, I think it's more relaxing for me to embrace them rather than fight them. But I am free at the moment from the suffocating darkness that often made daily life exhausting at the least. Since those kind of episodes are recurring for me, I know I may have to face them again at some point - but hopefully there will not be another one so long, and I do pray, as always for God's grace and mercy in battling them. He is, and has always been, faithful in those times.
Forgive me for sharing so personal a topic, but I did so to emphasize the significance of "happiness" for me now. My creative juices are flowing so much freer, and every part of our family life is moving forward with a lighter, faster beat, which I am sure everyone is glad of. Even with trying time in our very near future, I do not feel that I will be overwhelmed by it, and that it saying something!
I have been here too long already, far longer than I had intended, and some little boys are getting eager for breakfast. But I don't think it will be another month before I post again!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Pretty
I don't think I'll have a point to this story. No witticisms, no thoughtful observations. I will not pretend to know the answer to this mystery. (And I would love to include a picture, but my camera is broken, so I can't take any new ones right now!)
Several days ago, I made a remark to Aimee about how pretty she was, and she wrinkled up her nose and said, with a self-consiousness I remember from my own girlhood but which I had never before heard from her, "No, I'm not."
What? I was shocked and more than a little bewildered. I certainly remember always thinking of that of myself, but I also always assumed that those girls who actually WERE pretty wouldn't have any trouble believing it of themselves. I always wanted to be incredibly thin, with locks of gold and eyes of sparkling blue. If a girl had all that, what else could she want? Besides the fact that she's my daughter who would be beautiful no matter what shape or hair color, I confess I have always seen in her what I always wished for myself, and have been happy for her that it has been her lot.
Ah... so it seems this tale says at least as much about myself as it does my daughter's newly wavering self image. Still, I'm at a loss. I guess I assumed that Aimee would always possess a graceful balance of modesty and a healthy self image (i.e. realizing how beatiful she is!), because, well... because, how could she not?
Friday, June 26, 2009
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Ryan is not the most naturally obedient or reverent (it's just the truth) of my children. He likes to push the boundaries and question rather boldly what some of my other children accept as fact. This can be trying at times, and sometimes I even wonder, in mother-fashion, where is heart is and where it will end up. But every once in awhile, he shows us a glimpse of the inner workings of his mind and heart, and what we see leaves us speechless.
This past Sunday morning, I encouraged Ryan, along with the other kids, to wish Dave a Happy Father's Day. They all started to pile on Dave, but Ryan stopped and challenged, not a little reproachfully, "But I thought God was our father!"
After a moment of stunned silence, I offered an explanation, but he wasn't satisfied with any of it, so I finally suggested he just wish Dave a "Happy Dad's Day," and that seemed to be acceptable. But what incredible theology, expressed with simple conviction, from a four year-old!
Later in the week, and just a couple nights ago, I tucked him in bed and was saying my good-nights while leaving, when he called me back to his bed.
"I have a secret to tell you," he said, so I leaned close to him. "I had a dream about God."
Now sometimes, he invents some rather elaborate dreams, so I'm sure I assumed a bemused expression as I asked him, "Oh really? What did he look like?"
Ryan smiled serenely. "He looked like a father."
If I was indeed wearing that bemused expression, it vanished, washed away by a flood of some powerful unnamed emotion - and tears that instantly sprang to my eyes. I couldn't say anything, but Ryan added matter-of-factly, "Yeah. He loves me."
I think that says it all.
This past Sunday morning, I encouraged Ryan, along with the other kids, to wish Dave a Happy Father's Day. They all started to pile on Dave, but Ryan stopped and challenged, not a little reproachfully, "But I thought God was our father!"
After a moment of stunned silence, I offered an explanation, but he wasn't satisfied with any of it, so I finally suggested he just wish Dave a "Happy Dad's Day," and that seemed to be acceptable. But what incredible theology, expressed with simple conviction, from a four year-old!
Later in the week, and just a couple nights ago, I tucked him in bed and was saying my good-nights while leaving, when he called me back to his bed.
"I have a secret to tell you," he said, so I leaned close to him. "I had a dream about God."
Now sometimes, he invents some rather elaborate dreams, so I'm sure I assumed a bemused expression as I asked him, "Oh really? What did he look like?"
Ryan smiled serenely. "He looked like a father."
If I was indeed wearing that bemused expression, it vanished, washed away by a flood of some powerful unnamed emotion - and tears that instantly sprang to my eyes. I couldn't say anything, but Ryan added matter-of-factly, "Yeah. He loves me."
I think that says it all.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Return Home - and "Big Boy Camp"
Aimee and Drew returned home from camp on Saturday, both tanned and tired, but both reporting a great week. I asked them if they were ever homesick, and Aimee replied, "Yes!," then added, "I really missed Duchess [her kitten]." Drew waved his hand nonchalantly, "Well, I tried to be, but I was too busy." While my mother heart felt a slight pang, I rallied, knowing it was okay, and just the way it should be. Camp is a place for spreading one's wings. But at the same time, they did seem glad to be home. Aimee gave us an exuberant account of her week, until she finally crashed from exhaustion, and we encouraged her to enjoy some space in her room for a little while. Drew, male-like, had to be prompted for every detail, but from what I gathered, he really liked his counselor and cabin-mates, and tubing was his favorite activity. They both went to bed early, and are still getting readjusted to being back home, but it is good to have them back.
While they were gone, the little boys and I had "camp" of our own. I suggested once, without thinking apparently, that we call it "The Little Meesters Camp," and Ryan instantly recoiled in disgust. "NO!" he protested. "We'll call it "Big Boy Camp," so that's what it was. "Big Boy Camp" began with Ryan's pick of cartoons in the morning, to his great delight, followed by a quick dip in the kiddie pool before heading off the library for preschool story time. We went to the 2 year-old version, and as we settled into our spots in the room, I immediately realized that Chase was a different kind of 2 year-old than the vast majority of his peers there. That isn't meant to sound like mother-pride at all, especially because I didn't know at first if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I am reporting it now as a completely neutral observation, hoping that it will be taken that way. The fact is that Chase has never physically looked like a toddler, in the first place. He went, as my mom said, straight from being a baby to being a kid. He's never had a toddler's physique or gait. He's always been lean and lanky, and proportioned like a much older child. In the second place, at least since he's been mobile, he's always assumed he's one of the big kids, and I suppose that's just from being a fourth child. We have, in turn, treated him like everyone else, so he's never had the strictly toddler or preschool experiences (in TV shows, the preschool variety of which I do admit I purposefully avoid, or going to storytime, etc.). He absorbs most of his information from sources directed to older recipients. So as we sat there among the other moms and little ones, I wondered if perhaps I had cheated him out of something. I also realized that many of those mothers and their more typical toddlers would probably be intimidated by him and his -ahem! -rougher style of play. We were, for better of for worse, rather out of place, and Chase was bored. But later, after thinking it over, I felt, as I mentioned above, that it was probably neither one extreme or the other - it's just who he is, and that's okay. While I don't think there's anything wrong with the preschool experience, I also don't think it's absolutely necessary. How many children, all over the world and throughout time, have grown up into their family circle and society without a number of activities and stimulation carefully directed toward every stage of their childhood? And that with no ill side-effects or stunting of growth.
After a nap and quiet time that afternoon, we grabbed a pizza and ate it outside by their pool. No mess, no fuss - which, by the way, was admittedly a plus during the week. They were game for just about anything, unlike their older siblings, whose burgeoning independence sometimes resists spontaneity and flexibility (i.e. sometimes there's alot of complaining!).
Later in the week, we went to the zoo, where we rode ALL the rides. I let them ride the train, the pony rides, and the carousel - in short, I completely let the zoo rip me off, but for half of what it would normally have cost me. The boys thought it was great, though, to get to all the things that requests for which are usually met with a resounding NO. Another day we had lunch at McDonald's, and on the last day, we went swimming at a friend's house before coming home to get everything ready for Dave to come home, and then the kids the next morning. We were happy to see the other half of our family, but it was also sweet to have a whole week with my little boys.
While they were gone, the little boys and I had "camp" of our own. I suggested once, without thinking apparently, that we call it "The Little Meesters Camp," and Ryan instantly recoiled in disgust. "NO!" he protested. "We'll call it "Big Boy Camp," so that's what it was. "Big Boy Camp" began with Ryan's pick of cartoons in the morning, to his great delight, followed by a quick dip in the kiddie pool before heading off the library for preschool story time. We went to the 2 year-old version, and as we settled into our spots in the room, I immediately realized that Chase was a different kind of 2 year-old than the vast majority of his peers there. That isn't meant to sound like mother-pride at all, especially because I didn't know at first if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I am reporting it now as a completely neutral observation, hoping that it will be taken that way. The fact is that Chase has never physically looked like a toddler, in the first place. He went, as my mom said, straight from being a baby to being a kid. He's never had a toddler's physique or gait. He's always been lean and lanky, and proportioned like a much older child. In the second place, at least since he's been mobile, he's always assumed he's one of the big kids, and I suppose that's just from being a fourth child. We have, in turn, treated him like everyone else, so he's never had the strictly toddler or preschool experiences (in TV shows, the preschool variety of which I do admit I purposefully avoid, or going to storytime, etc.). He absorbs most of his information from sources directed to older recipients. So as we sat there among the other moms and little ones, I wondered if perhaps I had cheated him out of something. I also realized that many of those mothers and their more typical toddlers would probably be intimidated by him and his -ahem! -rougher style of play. We were, for better of for worse, rather out of place, and Chase was bored. But later, after thinking it over, I felt, as I mentioned above, that it was probably neither one extreme or the other - it's just who he is, and that's okay. While I don't think there's anything wrong with the preschool experience, I also don't think it's absolutely necessary. How many children, all over the world and throughout time, have grown up into their family circle and society without a number of activities and stimulation carefully directed toward every stage of their childhood? And that with no ill side-effects or stunting of growth.
After a nap and quiet time that afternoon, we grabbed a pizza and ate it outside by their pool. No mess, no fuss - which, by the way, was admittedly a plus during the week. They were game for just about anything, unlike their older siblings, whose burgeoning independence sometimes resists spontaneity and flexibility (i.e. sometimes there's alot of complaining!).
Later in the week, we went to the zoo, where we rode ALL the rides. I let them ride the train, the pony rides, and the carousel - in short, I completely let the zoo rip me off, but for half of what it would normally have cost me. The boys thought it was great, though, to get to all the things that requests for which are usually met with a resounding NO. Another day we had lunch at McDonald's, and on the last day, we went swimming at a friend's house before coming home to get everything ready for Dave to come home, and then the kids the next morning. We were happy to see the other half of our family, but it was also sweet to have a whole week with my little boys.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
The Path to Contentment
OK, maybe it's more like "a step toward contentment." I am trying to remember to "give thanks in all things," so here goes. I am thankful:
for my outdated ecru refrigerator;
for our dogs and their...well, for our dogs;
for always feeling short of money;
for not knowing whether or not we'll be making enough money in, say, September;
for the weeds that thrive in my backyard (they are such a lovely green, at any rate);
for unfinished projects,
for the indelible pen marks on my leather couch...
I don't think there's always a reason for every little thing that happens, but on the whole, I am thankful for all these things because I am forced to accept that I am not perfect and cannot maintain perfection. I am forced to choose between letting myself go crazy with ceaseless striving against the air, OR trusting the Lord for things that seem improbable or even possible. If I had everything I wanted when I wanted it, I would be the most insufferable snob. And I would not have the opportunity to come anywhere near the elusive state of contentment. So here I am, trying to make the most of an opportunity.
for my outdated ecru refrigerator;
for our dogs and their...well, for our dogs;
for always feeling short of money;
for not knowing whether or not we'll be making enough money in, say, September;
for the weeds that thrive in my backyard (they are such a lovely green, at any rate);
for unfinished projects,
for the indelible pen marks on my leather couch...
I don't think there's always a reason for every little thing that happens, but on the whole, I am thankful for all these things because I am forced to accept that I am not perfect and cannot maintain perfection. I am forced to choose between letting myself go crazy with ceaseless striving against the air, OR trusting the Lord for things that seem improbable or even possible. If I had everything I wanted when I wanted it, I would be the most insufferable snob. And I would not have the opportunity to come anywhere near the elusive state of contentment. So here I am, trying to make the most of an opportunity.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Camp Update
Yesterday I delivered Aimee and Drew to camp, as planned, and I left them both looking happy and well. I dropped Aimee off at her cabin first, and she was fine with me seeing her in, but was immediately ready to get the good-byes out of the way. I asked her if she wanted me to make her bed for her and help her get her things settled, and she said, brightly but firmly, "No thanks. You can go now." Her counselors, one of whom went to camp with one of my sisters way back when, seemed to be a good fit for her, and some of the other girls from our church were in her cabin, so she was set almost immediately.
I took Drew over to his cabin next, and there was no counselor there. My sister and I got Drew and Tiernan's things set up for them, and tried to make sure they knew where everything was, but the boys were so excited and distracted there's no telling if they actually hear anything we said. Finally I just told Drew that if he needed anything it would be in his bag, and if couldn't find it right away, he should just look harder. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if most of his clothes go untouched all week, and the bars of soap are never opened. Even Aimee, who is more concientious, came back her from her first year having only used one pair of the shorts I packed for her and having only taken one shower. I don't think her hair had been touched all week. After all that freedom, she was like someone who had been abondoned on a desert island for a time - a little wild and nearly untouchable. But gloriously happy. It's a good thing, I think, for everyone to enjoy a little freedom from whatever hum-drum rules encumber them, which is why it would never do for me to be one of Aimee's counselors, as, mother-like, I would probably insist on things like showers and hair brushing. As for Drew, who requires even less maintainance, I envision him coming home smelling not so fabulous - but his clothes still clean - afer a week of all the activity and general "boy-ness" he can handle. I only hope he's ok at night, when things settle down and he might have a chance to think about being homesick. I'm glad his cousin is there with him, to take the edge off any of that, if he should feel it at all.
So here we go. Ryan is up, and Chase will soon follow. When we arrived back home from camp last night, they were WILD, and I hope it was just a reaction to a long, hot day filled with hours of sitting in a car - and not an indication of the week to come!
I took Drew over to his cabin next, and there was no counselor there. My sister and I got Drew and Tiernan's things set up for them, and tried to make sure they knew where everything was, but the boys were so excited and distracted there's no telling if they actually hear anything we said. Finally I just told Drew that if he needed anything it would be in his bag, and if couldn't find it right away, he should just look harder. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if most of his clothes go untouched all week, and the bars of soap are never opened. Even Aimee, who is more concientious, came back her from her first year having only used one pair of the shorts I packed for her and having only taken one shower. I don't think her hair had been touched all week. After all that freedom, she was like someone who had been abondoned on a desert island for a time - a little wild and nearly untouchable. But gloriously happy. It's a good thing, I think, for everyone to enjoy a little freedom from whatever hum-drum rules encumber them, which is why it would never do for me to be one of Aimee's counselors, as, mother-like, I would probably insist on things like showers and hair brushing. As for Drew, who requires even less maintainance, I envision him coming home smelling not so fabulous - but his clothes still clean - afer a week of all the activity and general "boy-ness" he can handle. I only hope he's ok at night, when things settle down and he might have a chance to think about being homesick. I'm glad his cousin is there with him, to take the edge off any of that, if he should feel it at all.
So here we go. Ryan is up, and Chase will soon follow. When we arrived back home from camp last night, they were WILD, and I hope it was just a reaction to a long, hot day filled with hours of sitting in a car - and not an indication of the week to come!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Camp
This morning I am preparing to drive Aimee and Drew to camp. This is Aimee's third year, and I don't think there are adequate words to describe her anticipation and excitement. When camp ends each year, she comes home and tells us about it for at least six months, then the next six, with some overlap, she talks about how much she's looking forward to the next year. Since this year is the first year Drew has been eligible to go, she has been pumping him up for months, telling him everything to expect - pretty much coming close to laying out his whole camp itenerary for him (which I think she would do for him if they let her). In addition to being excited about it on his own, I think Drew has never even been allowed by his dear sister to think about the possibility of not going. Dave and I have explained everything overnight camp entails (usually out of Aimee's earshot, so she can't weigh in), and he does seem to be making a conscious decision on his own accord, so we let have let him proceed with plans to attend, although I confess I am more nervous for him than I ever have been for Aimee. But even though he is not GIDDY with excitement, he is matter-of-fact about this whole camp thing, and seems to carry his own brand of confidence. But will he ever brush his teeth, and will any of his clothes make it home? Aimee has been working on her packing lists for weeks; I showed Drew his yesterday, and he said, "Yeah, yeah," but I know he'll never look at it.
So because I am having a slightly harder time sending Drew (not because I love him more, of course - just because he's a different kind of person than his super-confident and outgoing sister), I offered to be part of the church caravan down to camp. I'll have my little ones, and several of the boys who are going, Drew and my nephew Tiernan (coming in from out of town) included. I used to attend this particular camp when I was younger (like 19 years younger, was my first year - yikes!), so I will be greeted with a rush of memories, mostly happy, when we get there. But I don't think I'll have too much time to indulge in those, as I get the kids to where they need to be. Aimee, though, while happy that I am taking her this year, wants to be clear that I am NOT to fuss over getting her settled in, and, heaven forbid, I am not to linger. And I'm pretty sure that Drew will be caught up quickly in the fun of a whole cabin full of boys his age, so I probably won't linger there, either. So then the little boys and I will hie ourselves home to a week of just us three. I'm sure I'll be posting about that later this week!
So because I am having a slightly harder time sending Drew (not because I love him more, of course - just because he's a different kind of person than his super-confident and outgoing sister), I offered to be part of the church caravan down to camp. I'll have my little ones, and several of the boys who are going, Drew and my nephew Tiernan (coming in from out of town) included. I used to attend this particular camp when I was younger (like 19 years younger, was my first year - yikes!), so I will be greeted with a rush of memories, mostly happy, when we get there. But I don't think I'll have too much time to indulge in those, as I get the kids to where they need to be. Aimee, though, while happy that I am taking her this year, wants to be clear that I am NOT to fuss over getting her settled in, and, heaven forbid, I am not to linger. And I'm pretty sure that Drew will be caught up quickly in the fun of a whole cabin full of boys his age, so I probably won't linger there, either. So then the little boys and I will hie ourselves home to a week of just us three. I'm sure I'll be posting about that later this week!
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