Pastor Mom

A Little Liberating

2009-06-24T19:37:00.002-05:00

Back in October, when Jay got really sick, we started making a mental list (followed by an actual written list, thanks to Jay) of all the things we wanted to do--our bucket list of sorts. At the top of the list was a trip to Germany. Jay spent time in Germany in both high school and college, and he has been intentional about speaking German to both Joshua and Clare in our home. So it wasn't a surprise when he said that taking the kids to Germany was really important to him. Of course the kids are too little to remember it, we reasoned, but that wasn't really the point. The point is that we will share the experience.

There's something really liberating about pushing the bucket list up a few years. We are trying to prioritize the things we want to do instead of trying to convince ourselves that we'll do things when we have enough money/when we have enough time/when the kids are older/when we'll enjoy it more. Yes, there are tons of reasons not to do it, but none of them cancels out the thought of sitting in a hospital room with Jay, thinking, "Boy, I wish we'd gone to Germany when we had the chance."

So while I am terrified by the thought of two children under the age of four suffering from jet lag, I am also somehow grateful that we don't have the luxury of waiting until X, Y, or Z happens. It's helped us to live in the present and realize the importance of having a good time together. We've always been delayed gratification kind of people, so this is a real discipline for us. One that I hope we won't ever take for granted.

Harder Than I Thought

2009-06-07T19:21:00.003-05:00

Three years ago I was commissioned by the Northern Illinois Conference of the United Methodist Church and became a probationary Elder in the conference. Six weeks later I went on Family Leave. Today marked the ordination of the group of men and women with whom I was commissioned three years ago. They have survived and thrived throughout three years of probationary membership, met together regularly to support each other, endured another round of interviews with the Board of Ordained Ministry, and undoubtedly done some wonderful things in their churches. Had I not decided to stay home with my children I might have been with them today.

So I've been a little teary today as I've read their status updates and caught little glimpses of how this next step is affecting them. Had I thought about it I might have made the effort to go to St. Charles and cheer them on. They are an amazing group of men and women with incredible gifts for ministry, and their ordination today makes me hopeful about the future of the United Methodist Church--maybe we can be a church that lives up to its promise of open minds, open hearts, and open doors. Maybe we can be a church that gives hope to the cynics and that lives out the unconditional love of Christ in all we say and do.

And while I celebrate with them, I can't help but think what my life might look like if I had chosen their path. What would my life be like if I had chosen to remain in the local church for the last three years? I willingly admit that part of me feels like I'm missing out on something huge, and today more than ever I am painfully aware that my choice to stay home with my children means that I have missed out on a different opportunity. To say that I don't have regrets would be a lie. No matter how confident I am that I made the right choice, my heart still hurts a little bit today because I realize the magnitude of the sacrifice I've made.

It would be so humbling and amazing to stand with my friends today and feel the hands of the bishop on my shoulders. Some days the feeling of my children's hands in mine make up for that feeling, but for today I will sit with the sorrow that comes with choosing one path over another. And I will rejoice with my friends who will have hands laid on them and stoles placed over their shoulders, and I will thank God for the call to ministry given to men and women who want to love the world as Jesus did.

Ten Years, Part II

2009-05-31T21:42:00.000-05:00

Ten years ago, ten years seemed like a long time. Now it doesn't seem like any time at all. Oh, we joke about how we no longer remember anything about our life in California, and it does seem like we were little kids playing house when we lived there, but it doesn't feel like we've trudged down ten years of marital journey.

I remember how hard it was at the beginning. Jay had lived by himself for three years. I had lived in community, but always found my own space if I needed to run and hide from the rest of the world. Jay even bought a house bigger than we needed, simply because he knew we'd both need lots of space. The funny thing was that we inevitably ended up squashed together in our upstairs loft space, reading the computer monitor over each other's shoulders or one of us sitting on the little futon we put up there so we could still be near each other if the one of us was working on the computer. We had two, but Jay's was newer and far superior to mine. And we didn't have television, so books and the internet (dialup, of course) were our only escapes.

But it was still hard to live in the same house with someone. It was hard to coordinate schedules, to give each other space, to figure out how to communicate. I remember getting so angry with Jay one day that I kicked an empty box on the floor and stomped out of the house to go on a long walk. I think that was the first day I realized that I really did have the stereotypical redhead's temper. Of course I don't even remember what we argued about now.

I look back now and I wonder what the heck we thought we were doing. Why we ever thought it would be a good idea for a couple of 24-year-olds to get married and go get jobs and try to figure out what to do with our lives. Looking back on it now we seemed ridiculously young for all of that. But somehow we have survived, and thrived. We have had our share of adventures and have tried our very best to be good to each other and to anyone who needs the shelter of love that we can provide. We've managed to avoid a routine. We just keep finding new things to do and new places to go. We've never set some sort of ultimate goal for our collective life (other than raising happy and healthy children), instead blooming where we've been planted until we feel a call on our lives to go somewhere else. The next few years will not disappoint in the adventure arena. We will wait and see how Jay's health progresses, and I will have to make a decision about my future as a pastor in the United Methodist Church. But we have ten years behind us that have made us stronger and closer. They have shown us that we can survive just about anything, and that we are ready for whatever life tosses our way.

I often poo-poo the idea that there is only one perfect person for everyone, but after ten years it seems that Jay and I actually are the perfect people for each other. We sometimes stress over everyday decisions, but the big ones almost never require discussion. Somehow our values and priorities are so perfectly lined up that the huge decisions are a given for us. Were we that perfectly matched before we even met, or did we grow that way over the last ten years? I'm not sure, but I know that there is no one else with whom I'd rather share my life. And I'm pretty sure there's no one else with whom I could share my life. Despite the difficulties, or maybe because we always seem to survive them, it's a sweet life. God give us ten more.

Ten Years

2009-05-30T06:41:00.000-05:00

10 Years Ago:

Today:

You Are What You Eat

2009-05-25T20:33:00.005-05:00

We spend a lot of money on food. I won't say how much because it's embarrassing.

In the spring and summer we get all of our meat and almost all of our produce from our CSA, which is more expensive than getting it at the grocery store. But it's worth it to us to know that the majority of what we eat comes from less than 2 hours away and that we can actually go see where our food is grown anytime we like. I never worry about foodborne illness, chemicals, additives, freshness, and I just can't put a price on that.

We also get all of our dairy products from the Farmer's Market--cheese, ice cream, and milk--plus eggs and preserves. It adds up.

Of course we still go to the grocery store. My list for this week includes soy sauce, applesauce, olive oil, and garlic. And whenever possible I buy local or organic at the store.

I've felt guilty about the amount of money I spend on food for awhile. I've tried to get excited about clipping coupons, but I rarely see coupons for the things I buy. (Except that just this week I got an envelope from Kroger with targeted coupons that I'll actually use. Hooray!) And I've checked out websites that promise to help you cut down your food budget by providing meal plans, but our participation in the CSA guarantees that our meals for the week will consist of whatever shows up in two big boxes on Sunday afternoon.

Oh, the guilt.

Until the other day. Jay and I were shopping with the kids together and I was cringing over the grocery bill. And the light went on. "Jay," I said, "I'm done feeling guilty about the amount of money I spend on food." (Let me be clear here that Jay has never once criticized my food spending.)

As I thought about it I realized that we don't waste food. We don't throw anything away. We hardly buy any processed food at all. If we are what we eat, then I would much rather my kids be wholesome and fresh and natural and vitaminy than processed and preserved and junky and sugary. And if I have to spend a truckload of money making sure that my family gets the highest-quality food I can find then so be it. In fact, I realized that if feeding my kids the freshest, most nutritious, most ecologically friendly food available means that I have to forgo a vacation or clothes or home improvements or whatever else, then I'm willing to make those sacrifices. And I have. There's a lot I'm willing to compromise on in our budget. What my kids put into thier bodies isn't one of them.

Two things come to mind as I write this. The first is that I realize that not everyone is in a position to spend whatever it takes to feed their families this way. And the second is that it shouldn't be that way. When you can get three boxes of macaroni and cheese for the same price as one head of organic broccoli, and when you don't have too much to spend and a family to feed, that macaroni and cheese is going to go a heckuva lot farther than the broccoli.

So at this point I'm stuck. Grateful to be able to feed my family whole foods that are local and good for them...not sure what I can do within a system that leaves people less fortunate than me deciding between virtually nutrient-free food and this month's rent.

I've Been Gone Too Long--Here's Some Filler Until the Next Post

2009-05-24T12:38:00.002-05:00

Joshua had a tummyache of unknown origin all day long yesterday. Close to bedtime last night he complained again that his tummy hurt.

Mama: "Well, would you like some Mylanta?"

Joshua: "Um, OK, I'll take some of your lanta."

Bonus:

Clare: "Lanta! Lanta! Lanta!"

Bittersweet

2009-05-12T21:35:00.003-05:00

Today was Joshua's last official day of Playschool before summer break. When I walked in this morning I saw two Ziploc bags containing his emergency change of clothes sitting over his coathook in the hallway. That's when I realized how sad I was. Of course I'm looking forward to getting to be with him all day every day this summer, but as this school year draws to a close I remember how much we've all changed over the course of the year.

I questioned my decision to send him to playschool up until the night before, and even then I was a nervous wreck. I packed his Ziploc bag of 2T clothes and some permission slips in his backpack and sent him off with Jay, nearly sick to my stomach with worry that the whole thing would be a disaster. And he was fine. And he loved it. And he was so, so small.

(Clare wears these shoes now, and those shorts are so short as to be mildly obscene on him)

I remember that about six weeks into school one of his teachers mentioned that she wished he would participate more instead of hanging around on the periphery and watching everything. "That's just his MO," I said. "He'll get the hang of it eventually. He did the same thing in Kindermusik." And then his trip to Chicago in November changed everything. Somehow, some way, that trip turned him into a different person. My theory is that going off to a big city alone with Vati and hanging out with Vati's friends gave him an extra-large dose of self-confidence that has yet to subside. His next day at school, after returning from his trip, his teacher said, "We don't know what happened on his trip, but Joshua is a different person." I noticed it too. The transformation was remarkable. Same Joshua, just...more of him.

Jay had been in charge of dropping him off in the Fall, but when January rolled around it was my job to take him. I was surprised by his confidence. After using the potty and washing his hands he ran to the door of his room without so much as a backward glance. If I wanted a kiss, I had to ask for it before he disappeared into his world of little friends, paint, and dressup. When the weather warmed up enough for them to go outside, he began telling me that he played with the "three-year-olds," and it wasn't long before he started asking me if he could go to the three-year-old class. I told him he could ask his teacher, but to my knowledge he never did.

Now he knows the names of almost all 40-something kids that go to school with him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. His teachers love him and are incredulous when I mention that his behavior at home might sometimes be less-than-stellar. Of course they are responsible for much of his transformation. Oh that we all could spend three hours every day in an environment where such unconditional love and concern come spilling out the doors.

On Thursday we will attend his end-of-the-year program where we will hear all of the songs that Joshua's been singing for the past several weeks. Then he'll have two weeks of day-camp-ish activities at school.

But this is it. This is the end of his first year of school. There's no way to quantify the ways we've all changed since September, but today I am reminded of how quickly time passes and how precious each moment is. Part of me wants to freeze everything just like it is. But that wouldn't be fair to him, and it wouldn't be fair to us, so I'll just allow myself to get a little weepy as I remember that I swore I would never be "that kind of mom."

But how could I not be?

Playtime!

2009-05-11T13:10:00.002-05:00

When we moved into our house almost three years ago we puzzled over what to do with one particular room. The previous owners used it as an office, although it appeared as though it had once been an outdoor porch that they then covered. That wasn't so bad in itself, but somewhere along the way they decided it would be a good idea to put down this hideous aqua indoor/outdoor carpeting. By the time we moved in the carpet was torn in places, probably due to the dogs who seemed to frequently use the doggie door, and the whole place just looked grubby. It served several purposes for us over the course of our time here. For awhile I used it as my office. It's been an all-purpose junk room, too, where we've just thrown all things chicken related. And come to think of it, it's also been a chicken incubation room.

But last winter we decided it was time to do something about it. We got a futon two Christmases ago with the intention of making the sunroom into a guest room, and this winter we decided to kill two birds with one stone. So Jay started putting down laminate flooring, and this weekend the project almost came to a close. We just need to touch up the paint around the door.

The total project involved tearing up the old carpet, replacing the backdoor since it had a doggie door in it, replacing the trim around the door, putting down vapor barrier, putting down the floor itself, and then installing quarter-round. It was all Jay, all the time, and tonight the kids finally got to move in!

21 Months

2009-05-03T20:23:00.003-05:00

Clare is 21 months old today. In two weeks she will be the same age that Joshua was when she was born. In the past month or so she has turned into a complete joy to be around. Not that I haven't always cherished being with her, but her personality is just turned on full blast these days. And I was reminded the other day that Jay and I sort of missed out on this age with Joshua because we were so preoccupied with her first few weeks of life. That just makes watching her at this stage so much sweeter.

She's had a lot of words for awhile, but it feels like she's become fully conversational just in the last few weeks. "What do you want to read before bed tonight?" "Gruffalo!" "How are you?" "Good!" And Joshua's favorite question: "What's the matter with you?" To which she answers, "Happy!"

She's a charmer who's never met a stranger. While Joshua has always been an observer who wants to sit back and take everything in before participating, she's the first one to try something new. Wherever we go--storytime, playtime at the gym, mom's group--she has a hug for each of the adults she sees. When we take Joshua to school she asks for her friends whom she knows she'll see there. She's even started picking up on adult's names and knows that her friend Emma rides in a Jeep. She takes her brother to the floor in wrestling matches and they seem to enjoy each other now more than ever. Joshua, who loves church, even asked to stay in the church nursery today so that he could watch after her. While we realize that may have been a ploy to score an extra hour of playtime, we were also glad to know that he was able to at least feign empathy for her.

She is so different from her brother, and yet I see that she has so many of the gifts that he had at her age. She's no puzzler or Lego-er or letter recognizer--yet--but she has managed to learn to be gentle and kind to other people, quite a feat having grown up around her brother who is nice to everyone but her. She doesn't have his attention span, but she has an unbridled joy that allows her to enjoy everything she does--except when she doesn't. She's a little stinker--always looking to see if I'm watching her get ready to do the very thing I just told her not to do, but mostly all in fun.

I can't believe she's almost two. And I'm enjoying every second of it.

Not Worth Consuming

2009-04-30T21:43:00.000-05:00

For the last three years I've been using All Consuming to keep track of the books I've read and the books I want to read. So every time I hear about a book I'd like to read I just enter it under "Books I Intend to Consume." And every time I finish a book it goes under "I Have Consumed This." It's pretty handy.

When I log my consumption, I have the option of rating the book. The three ratings are Worth Consuming, Wishy-Washy, and Not Worth Consuming. Of the 58 books I've consumed in the last three years, I've only rated one as Not Worth Consuming. A few were Wishy-Washy, but nearly all were Worth Consuming. Sure, there were some I didn't enjoy as much as others, and some were downright painful. But it takes a pretty bad book to get a Not Worth Consuming rating from me. I'd like to think that most, if not all, books have something worthwhile to offer a reader. It could be mindless entertainment or an earthshattering new perspective, but my consistent Worth Consuming ratings tell me that I've found some nugget in almost every book I've read that makes the time spent consuming it worthwhile.

So, have you read anything you deem not worth consuming, anything insanely idiotic that rendered you dumber for having read it? (Incidentally, I think Billy Madison is totally worth consuming).

Saying Goodbye

2009-03-14T13:30:00.003-05:00

Jay and I never really talked about how many kids we wanted to have. We decided that it was time to have the first one, and then we decided that it was time to have the second one, and then Jay started getting sicker--and that was that. After we had Joshua I decided that three would be a good number. After all, I'm an only, Jay's one of two, and neither of us has experienced a family with three kids, so why not?

But I'm bumping up against "advanced maternal age," and Jay's not exactly in stellar health himself, so it just seems foolish to have another. Should things go poorly for Jay, I have no desire to raise two kids alone, much less three. And I'm feeling a little too tired to go through the newborn phase again. So although we've never had an official "We're done here" conversation, it appears that we are finished having babies. And that makes me sad. I love being pregnant, I love laboring and delivering, and I love getting to know the new little person that has come to stay. Granted, there are many things that I don't love. I don't love first trimester sickness, I don't love dealing with fussiness, I don't love the exhaustion that comes with staying up all night, and I don't like being cranky with everyone around me because I'm so tired.

But there's something terribly heartbreaking about knowing that I won't have any more, knowing that the opportunity presents itself to me every 28 days and that I am not taking advantage of it, knowing how very little it would take to make it happen again. I feel like I am squandering this gift of being able to create and sustain a life, and I am afraid that one day, when that gift is no longer available to me, I will regret not having given it another shot.

I love my children desperately. And part of me has always been afraid of what would happen if we added a third to the mix. It's been hard enough to divide my time and attention between two, and I don't like the idea of making Clare "the middle child," but the fact that the door is essentially closed feels worthy of my grief.

Joshua's Quote of the Month

2009-03-14T13:26:00.002-05:00

This morning I took Joshua and Clare to the Farmer's Market for our weekly dairy/bread run. Standing in front of us was a man who had both a dog and some very impressive dreadlocks. Joshua and Clare were fixated on the dog--Clare was pointing and screeching, Joshua was trying to hide. The man and dog soon left, and we carried on with our normal routine.

When we got back into the car, Joshua said, "Mama, what kind of hair did that man have?"

I was surprised that he even noticed the guy's hair, as fixated as he was on the dog.

"Those are called dreadlocks. Did you like them?"

"Yes, I did!"

"Do you have dreadlocks?"

"No," he said, "but I'm curious what I would look like if I had them."

I immediately called my home phone to record the quote, lest I forget it and become very sad.

An Answer to Prayer

2009-02-27T13:28:00.002-06:00

As part of my Lenten discipline, I have been setting aside some time every afternoon when the kids go to bed to do a centering prayer and then write some in a prayer journal. Yesterday I wrote in my journal that I needed to forgive myself for putting my desire to clean my house before my need to spend good, quality, on-the-floor-and-having-fun-time with my children. And while I recognized that I needed to forgive myself, I also prayed that I might do better.

This morning, Clare projectile vomited--twice--all over me. I spent all morning sitting in a kitchen chair, holding a bleary-eyed Clare in my lap, watching Joshua disassemble and reassemble the smoothie maker. There are three gigantic mountains of clothes that need to be put away, and I only loaded the dishwasher because Clare eventually wanted to sit in front of the open front door and enjoy the breeze for a few minutes.

Be careful what you ask for...

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T12:57:00.002-06:00

I'm shamelessly stealing this from my friends at Cambridge Welcoming Ministries. It was definitely the word that God had for me today and I wanted to share it as I look forward to a long Lenten season, wondering how I am going to keep my own vows and live out my own repentance.

Come, Come Whoever You Are by Mevlana Jelaluddin Runi

Come, come, whoever you are,
Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow

a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come.

Valentine's Day

2009-02-19T23:05:00.003-06:00

I've never really gotten into all the hype surrounding Valentine's Day. I mean, it was cute and all, and much more fun when I actually had a Valentine than when I didn't, but it was never high on my list of favorite holidays. Before kids, Jay and I usually celebrated Valentine's Day like we celebrated our birthdays: a really nice dinner out that may have also included a room at a Pricelined hotel (when we lived in Chicago). After kids, we were lucky to get each other a card.

But this year was different. I appreciated Valentine's Day so much more this year because it was a Hallmark holiday. After surviving Christmas and anticipating Easter, both of which are significant religious holidays loaded up with all kinds of other marketing garbage, it was so nice not to have to try to separate the sacred from the profane. What a relief.

I celebrated by buying as much junk from Hobby Lobby as I could find and making Valentine's Day cards with Joshua and Clare. We fingerprinted, fingerpainted, stickered, and colored our way into a whole raft of homemade Valentine's Day cards that we gave to grandparents, Vati, and Joshua's playschool class. We talked about how we like to do nice things for people we love to show them that we care about them, without any of the "Yes, but" conversations that were so much a part of Christmas.

And Jay and I even took the opportunity to spend some much needed time together. On and around Valentine's Day I heard and read a lot of people who went on about how people shouldn't have to have a special day to acknowledge their love and blah, blah, blah. But to tell you the truth, I do need that. And I think Jay does, too. We're constantly running around in such a frenzy that we need to be reminded of how important it is to take a break and just be together. So what if it's a Hallmark holiday. It was the excuse we needed to hang out together and have fun. And hopefully we'll remember how important that was and won't neglect to do it again.

If it gives me an excuse to have fun with my kids without having to spend all my time trying to help them untangle religious understandings from marketing ploys, and if it reminds me of how important it is to spend time with the guy I love for 364 other days, then I say bring it on.

My Quandary

2009-02-16T22:01:00.007-06:00

Most of my friends and family know that I am a customer service nightmare. When a company or its employees claim that they are going to do something, I expect them to follow through. My penchant for customer service has led to some interesting situations, like the time when I got the direct phone number to the Customer Service manager at Cokesbury and was told that I was only to call her when placing an order, or the time that the shady mattress store manager was called a series of foul names and had his card thrown back in his face. (I was 37 weeks pregnant. That's a good enough excuse right?) But I haven't had much reason to be a customer service nightmare lately. Until now.

Jay and I decided we wanted to go to the Flatiron Grille for Valentine's Day. It's a locally-owned restaurant that serves good drinks and good food, and it's got a really nice atmosphere, especially for Jackson. We've been there several times and have been mostly satisfied with the experience, particularly since it's one of the only two upscale dining options in town. So I called about a week before Valentine's Day to ask if they were taking reservations. The man I spoke to said that they weren't, but that they were doing call ahead seating. On Thursday before Valentine's Day, after seeing a full-page ad in a local magazine that implied that they were taking reservations, I went to the restaurant in person. I talked to the hostess who confirmed that they were not taking reservations, but that they would be doing call ahead seating. She recommended that I call about an hour before I wanted to eat in order to put my name on the list.

I arranged for a babysitter to arrive at 7:30 on Valentine's Day, planning to get to the restaurant by 8:00. I called the restaurant at 6:00, just to find out how long the wait was. It was 2 hours. Perfect!

"Great!" I said. "Can you go ahead and put me down on the list?"

"Ma'am, we're no longer doing call ahead seating."

*Stunned silence. It's 6:00 on Valentine's Day. I have a babysitter coming and nowhere to eat.*

"But I was told twice this week that you were doing call ahead seating tonight."

"We were, ma'am, but our waiting list is two pages long and we have people hanging out the doors. My manager told me a few minutes ago to stop taking call ahead seating."

I asked for the manager's name, but didn't ask to speak with him. Maybe I should have. I figured that if he didn't care enough about customers to honor his call ahead seating plan then he probably didn't care enough about customers to talk a really disgruntled one on that phone.

Despite the fact that my head was about to explode, I called our favorite sushi place and was told that there was no wait. We went there, had a good time, chatted up the owner, I got free beer, and Jay got the promise of a bowl of kimchi chigae every week, made by the owner herself.

Since then I've left scathing reviews on about ten restaurant review sites and sent a comment via the Flatiron Grille website. Today I received a reply. Here is an excerpt:

Ms. Bernheisel,

In an effort to serve our customers, we were offering
call ahead seating for Valentine's Day.  By 6:00 p.m.,
our staff was overwhelmed with long lists of call-ahead
guests and large numbers of walk-in guests accumulating
inside the restaurant, waiting to be seated.  It was at
that point that our Proprietor, XXXXXXX, opted to forgo
call ahead seating.  He felt at that time that if we
did not do so, we might not be able to serve all of the
guests who were already inside the restaurant, waiting for
tables....

Please accept our apology for being inconvenienced.  We
would like to offer you and your guest a complimentary
dinner.  Please call me at your earliest convenience to
set up those details.  My direct number is XXXXXXXXXX.

Mr. XXXXXXX would like for me to extend his personal
apology, as well.  He would like to have the opportunity
to speak directly with you.  He asked me to pass along
his number to you.  His direct number is XXXXXX or you
may reach either of us at the restaurant number of XXXXXXX.

So here's the dilemma. I already said in my note to the owner that I was never going to darken the door of the establishment again, and I really don't intend to. What about this free meal? What about the fact that the whole first paragraph of this letter is one big lame excuse for miserable customer service? Do I accept the meal? Do I just drop it, even though the Marketing Director who sent me this note obviously doesn't get it? Do I call the guy? I'm really bad at ending up a big sputtering ball of mad during confrontations, so I'm not sure what good that would do. Could he really say something to make me less angry about the situation? What would you do?

What I Did This Weekend

2009-02-08T22:52:00.002-06:00

...among other things.

The Liver Chronicles

2009-02-03T21:45:00.004-06:00

When we last left you, Jay had just emerged from surgery to expand his common bile duct. The surgery was a success in that the surgeon was able to place a balloon in the duct and expand it, but there is also a lot of diffuse stricturing in the rest of the biliary tree preventing the flow of bile. Jay still looks like the victim of a Mystic Tan incident gone awry and his numbers are still the same.

Needless to say, I was a little nervous about what the doctor in Nashville was going to say when Jay went to see him today. But it wasn't anything really earth-shattering. The doctor said that he thought Jay would probably be ready for a transplant in several more years, so that was good to hear, and he also explained a little bit about the procedure for being placed on the transplant list. Position on the liver transplant list is determined by MELD (Model for End-Stage Liver Disease) number, which is calculated using the date of birth, bilirubin levels, serum creatinine levels, and International Normalized Ratio. You can see a calculator here. So even if the doctor were to put Jay on the transplant list today, he'd probably hang out at the bottom for awhile. Better to wait until things start to really go downhill, right?

So, per doctor's orders, no drinking, no smoking, and no drugs, which I'm sure will be a real hardship for Jay. Jay's supposed to call if he shows any signs of an infection in his liver (abdominal pain with fever and/or chills), and he's now taking both a Vitamin D supplement and another 5-ASA drug for his colitis. Hopefully this one won't send his liver function down the tubes like the last one did.

So here we go! Hurry up and wait!

Thanks for all of your prayers and well wishes. We appreciate it all so much more than you can know.

First Communion

2009-02-01T14:06:00.002-06:00

Joshua loves church. Big church. The kind where you sing hymns and listen to music and listen to prayers and listen to sermons, and sit still the whole time. Two years ago I never would've believed that he would be capable of sitting and attending to an hour's worth of church service, but now, every Sunday morning, he asks if he can go to Big Church. Sometimes he gets squirmy, of course, and sometimes he asks questions too loudly, but for the most part he does quite well.

Most United Methodist churches only celebrate Communion once a month, for better or for worse, and most of those that celebrate once per month also celebrate on the first Sunday of the month. Not so at our church. Our leaders are intentional about celebrating at least 12 times per year, but there's no established pattern. One day you just walk in and there it is.

This was one of those mornings, and I probably wouldn't have noticed if Jay hadn't said, "Hey! If Clare's hysteria doesn't drive the nursery people to call us down there, we might actually get to celebrate Communion together!" It was then I realized that we hadn't really chatted with Joshua about Communion. So, in whispers, I explained that at the end of the service we would go to the front of the church and take a bite of bread and a small cup of juice. I told him that it was called Communion and that it helps us remember that Jesus loved us enough to die for us. "OK," he responded.

No need to debate substitutionary atonement, no talk of mystery, no reason to get gory. Just the simple fact that Jesus died because he loved us so much. One day we'll talk about what that means, and we'll be sure to let Joshua know that Christians through the years have understood Jesus' death in any number of ways. And we'll trust that if the symbols of death and resurrection have meaning for him in the context of Christianity, he'll choose for himself what those words mean: Jesus loved us enough to die for us.

As we approached the Communion rail, I was glad to see that we were going to be served by one of the current pastors rather than one of the retired pastors who was also serving. I don't have anything against the retired pastors, but they were an unknown quantity in this situation. I wasn't sure what they would do when they saw a three-year-old on the kneeler, eyes exactly level with the rail itself. But David, whether he is an advocate of children and Communion, or whether he simply trusted that Jay and I were going to do the right thing, followed our lead and served Joshua as well.

I've always served Communion to children. After all, we say that everyone is invited. Who am I to rescind that invitation when a see a child approaching who is under X years of age? And we teach that Jesus says that we must have faith like a child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. And the argument that children don't understand? In our liturgy we "proclaim the mystery of faith." I would argue that our proclamation is an admission that we don't understand it either.

So there was no great celebration, except for the one in our hearts, but Joshua had his first Communion today. He probably doesn't feel any different, but we sure do.

Decidedly Absent, V. 4,789

2009-01-22T19:17:00.002-06:00

Once again, I am decidedly absent. With the women's retreat coming up in two weeks, I haven't been thinking about much of anything else. In fact, I have a bad case of what I've described as Diarrhea of the Brain. Once I start thinking about what I want to say, thoughts just come pouring out. That isn't to say that they're brilliant or profound thoughts, just thoughts that I think should be entered into my little thought notebook, which now sits beside my bed.

Lucky for me, I can turn this brain diarrhea on and off, so if I deliberately don't think about for a few days at a time then I can have some peace. But once the flow has started, I'm in trouble.

So hopefully I'll be a little more regular (no pun intended) once I feel like I have this under control.

Until then...

Less of Me

2009-01-09T14:30:00.000-06:00

Since August I've managed to lose 29 pounds, making me just 6 pounds heavier now than I was before I got pregnant with Joshua. I've had a lot of people ask me how I did it, so I thought I'd share my secret.

Here goes...

I ate less and exercised more.

Yep, that's the secret.

It all started when I joined a Biggest Loser-type competition sponsored by the local hospital. One of the perks of joining the competition was 8 weeks of free membership at the local YMCA. By the time my 8 weeks were up, I was a Y junkie, attending aerobics classes three mornings a week and hitting the elliptical machine on other days when I wanted to boost the old metabolism. When my 8 free weeks were up, I joined!

After I caught on to the whole exercise thing, I started using calorie-count.com. I entered my beginning weight, my goal weight, and the date by which I wanted to reach my goal. It told me exactly how many calories to eat every day in order to meet my goal. Once I started recording my calorie intake, I became very motivated to stick with it. It took about five months of hard work, but I finally met my initial goal. Now I'm staring down four more pounds that I'd like to get rid of, but I won't be disappointed if I don't.

I realize that I have some distinct advantages in my quest to lose the weight. First, I stay at home, and it's much easier to control my caloric intake when I prepare all my food myself. Second, Jay and I are committed to eating whole foods almost exclusively. We avoid almost all processed foods, which makes it really easy to control the amount of calories we consume. Third, it's fun to cook for four. On days when I make dinner for fewer than all four of us, it's hard to get excited about cooking. But since we eat dinner together almost every night, I'm always motivated to make good food. Simple, yes, but always healthy. Fourth, our schedule is such that I can get to the Y almost every morning while Jay stays home with the kids and makes breakfast. I know, hate me.

There are some things that I do that I think make weight-loss easier.

First, as suggested by my friend Gina, I take a dieting day off every week. Usually it's Saturday. On my day off I give myself license to eat whatever I want. Sometimes that means I eat two pints of ice cream and sometimes it just means I put butter on my pancakes. I've noticed in the past couple of months that I'm not as interested in eating sweet food, even on my day off. And since my stomach is much smaller, I don't just have the capacity for it.

Second, I avoid sugar, except on my dieting day off. Sugar and carbs cause the body to store more fat. Since that's what I'm trying to get rid of, I avoid the sugar, even if eating sugar would still allow me to consume less than my daily caloric intake.

Third, I exercise in the morning. It's just easier to get it out of the way first thing in the morning and not have to worry about it anymore. And it helps with metabolism.

Fourth, I record everything I eat, every day, except on my dieting day off. It's much easier to stay motivated to do the right thing when I have a number staring back at me, telling me whether I've met my goal or not.

There you have it. My secret.

Eat less. Exercise more.

I highly recommend it!

Now, About that Resolution

2009-01-02T21:17:00.002-06:00

Last year I made one resolution: to be in bed by 9:30 p.m. at least four nights each week. My thinking was that making such a commitment would make me a more pleasant person in general, a better wife, a better mom, and that it would keep me from eating so much at night since the sugar from Jay's late-night treats made falling asleep harder.

Yeah. Not so much. In fact, I think I actually started going to bed later than I had been prior to making my resolution. My excuse is that as a parent at home, my entire schedule is dictated by the needs of other people. I have no time to myself while the kids are awake, and their naptime is dedicated to completing my freelance work. So the only time I can actually do the things that I want to do is at night. And, truth be told, I've always been a night owl anyway.

Before Clare started sleeping through the night last July, I always felt like a good night was one in which I got at least six hours of sleep. I guess I carried that over to the months after Clare started sleeping through the night, assuming that six hours was enough to survive on. It's not.

So anyway, I blew it. I still don't get enough sleep, but I did manage to lose 29 pounds!

I think I'm going to avoid making any resolutions this year. I'd hate to jinx any important goals I have by turning them into resolutions, so I'll just pass...and go to bed.

Happy New Year!

2008-12-31T09:08:00.003-06:00

Wishing you a Happy New Year from the Bernheisels!

As for me and my house, this News Year's Eve day we will be renting a movie for Mama and Vati to enjoy tonight, getting Jay a temporary membership at the Y (he's jealous of all my bad yoga moves), and shopping for laminate flooring. I might even enjoy some fruit of the vine tonight. Whatever happens, I assure that we will all be in bed before midnight.

Hope you have a wonderful, safe evening and a new year filled with joy!

Serious Theological Inquiry

2008-12-22T13:59:00.003-06:00

After a not-so-smooth morning at home, Joshua, Clare, and I headed out to Target for some last-minute shopping. We were listening to Vaughan Williams' Hodie. Joshua had some difficulty understanding the words, so I was telling him what the vocalist was singing: "But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid, for I bring you good tidings of great joy that will be for all people...'" We got to the part about finding the baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and Joshua was able to correctly identify Jesus' location as a manger.

"Mama," he said, "Was Jesus a boy?"

"Yes, he was a boy," I said.

"Why, Mama?"

"Well," I said, "the Israelites were waiting for a Messiah, and they believed that Messiah would be a man. So Jesus was a boy." I was so stinkin' satisfied with myself I almost ran off the road.

"Mama?" Joshua asked. I was ready for anything, any follow-up question he could throw at me.

"Does that mean he had a penis?"

"Yep, Jesus had a penis."

Merry Christmas, little theologian. Merry Christmas.

Liver Slivers

2008-12-19T21:27:00.004-06:00

First of all, Jay and I need to say a huge thank you to everyone who has sent us words of encouragement and let us know that you are thinking about us during this not-so-easy time. It has meant so much to us to know that we have so much support and so many people praying for us.

Second, we need to give mad props to my parents for being troopers on our behalf today. This day went as smoothly as it could have possibly gone, and that would have never happened if my mom and dad (and stepdad) hadn't come through for us big. My dad served as primary chauffeur and waiting room sitter from 9:30 this morning until 4:00 this afternoon, picking up Jay, taking him to the clinic, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting. My mom and stepdad served as babysitters on steroids, entertaining our little tyrants all day long. The biggest miracle of the day was that Clare didn't completely freak out when she woke up from her afternoon nap to find that I wasn't home. Instead she played happily all afternoon with my mom. Whoa.

On to the procedure. Jay first had a CT scan this morning that, as far as we know, showed nothing. That's good.

The really good news, however, is that the surgeon was able to do exactly what he wanted to do. He was able to get a guidewire all the way through the common bile duct and expand the entire length of it to roughly 4 mm (that's the size of a normal common bile duct) using a balloon. He didn't use a stent because, as he explained, bacteria can colonize around the stent if bile gets backed up around it. This can cause an infection. So, no stent. The surgeon was really positive. He was obviously excited that the procedure had worked and took great pleasure in telling me all about it. I was happy to oblige. He said that he had seen great results with the procedure in the past and that in some cases had seen dramatic, long-term improvements (sometimes even for years) from it. The dose of reality he injected was that this procedure might not actually improve Jay's condition at all. If that's the case, we'll know that the jaundice was caused by general liver damage instead of a backup of bile due to the stricturing of the common bile duct. The surgeon said that, if we see results, it could take up to two weeks before we notice a change in color.

Then I talked to the doctor. It was the first time he'd actually seen the inside of Jay's liver, so he was pretty realistic about things. He reminded us of what he had said to Jay previously, which is that Jay's liver functioning is still quite good, but that the liver itself looks pretty torn up. And it does. The films I saw looked fairly similar to the films I saw upon diagnosis eight years ago. The doctor wants Jay to have bloodwork done in about six weeks, here in Jackson, and then wants to have a face-to-face with Jay after that to talk about what comes next.

So the summary is that the procedure was successful, but we will have to wait and see whether or not it has the desired effect. We'll know when we see if Jay's color changes and when we see results of the blood tests in a little over a month.

I was telling my friend Terri the other day that the most difficult thing about this for me is that it feels like a constant waiting game. My hope is that we learn something definitive (and definitively good) in the next few weeks and that we can get off of this pincushion that we seem to be sitting on.

Thank you again for all of your support. You can't know what it means for us to know that we have so many people rooting for us. Bless you.