Losses and Gains

Because there is nowhere else to go with this...

2009-05-13T15:00:00.000-07:00

Today was one of those days where I had to wonder if I can ever really end this journal of sorts. As much as I move forward and find there is less and less that can only be said here, I wonder if something will always come along. And even if no one reads this, it feels so much more satisfying to send these thoughts out into the universe with a click of the mouse than to just write them down with pen and paper and shove them in a drawer.

I just don't know what to do with the People magazine article featuring now grown, former micropreemies. Healthy, happy young adults who were all born between 23 and 27 weeks. I don't know what to do with the image of their smiling, life-filled faces now burned into my consciousness. I don't know what to do with the images of what they looked like at birth, so like my own tiny two, in contrast to now. And more than anything I am weary of trying to figure out what to do with the swirling emotions that inevitably bubble up to the surface every time a story like this makes it way into the mainstream media.

If only I hadn't insisted on taking the boys to get haircuts. That's the only place I ever pick up People magazine. Little T was right (again), haircuts are dumb.

The last page

2009-02-23T08:47:00.000-08:00

I think I have come to the last page in this journal.

That's how this blog began- as a way to put my thoughts out into the universe. It felt different than putting pen to paper even though I had no idea whether anyone would ever read my words. What I wanted, I think, was for Molly and Joseph to have a bigger mark on the world. I wanted to make sure their story had been told and that our love and longing for them was chronicled. I wanted their names to go out beyond our own little world and to know that maybe, just maybe, they could have an impact on someone else.

I think I did that, and I think I am done.

I have exhausted the words I can find to express the fulness of their existence and I have grown content with the quiet thoughts of my heart.

There are things I could write about- my other kids, my life, my faith. I have done that before and I could continue on that way but I don't have a need for that. I am not interested in writing from a purely superficial level, but I am also not thick skinned enough to take the heat when more controversial topics are raised. I'm not sure I was ever cut out for blogging but I have appreciated tremendously my experience in this strange little land and the friends I have made.

I will probably keep visiting my blog friends now and then, but I am closing up shop.

Be well. God bless.

Peace.

Life in Babylon

2009-02-22T12:07:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder if it is even possible to raise children of faith in this culture? I speak primarily of my own faith, Christianity, but I imagine it isn't any easier for Jewish parents here in the States. I'm sure there are geographical pockets where one would find the task easier than I do in my corner of the ol' USA. I know there are communities in which one faith group is so concentrated that it must feel somewhat less challenging to pass along your faith traditions, values and beliefs. Maybe. I don't know.

I live in a highly secularized area of the country. We are, in fact, statistically one of the most "unchurched" populations in the nation. We have plenty of zealots in our area, they just tend to be fanatical about things like politics, the environment, or public transportation. Even within our communities of faith it can be hard to determine who is there primarily out of a sense of tradition/obligation, and who is there because of deeply held spiritual beliefs. To be a Christian, an open, practicing Christian, is an act of defiance against the majority in this city. Or, at least it feels that way at times.

Big J loves skateboarding. He also loves watching skateboard videos on Youtu.be. Our computer is in a central location of the house and his Yo.utube account goes through my email so I have full access to his viewing habits and any communications he might receive via that medium. Therefore, under our watchful eye, we allow him his You.tube.

This morning I received an YT email notifying J of some new videos posted by some of his favorite skateboarders. Normally I scan these emails quickly, make sure they appear on the up and up, and then delete. But this morning the title of one of the videos caught my eye. It referenced the name of the summer camp Big J has attended every summer since he was in the 4th grade. This camp is his favorite because it has a large, covered skate park and thus offers skateboarding as one of its many activity options. J has loved that camp every single summer he has attended and always comes home beaming and excited and talking about how he wants to be a counselor there someday. Let's call the camp, Camp Skate.

One of the videos listed in my email today was titled, "Camp Skate Sucks."

Camp Skate is a Christian camp. It is a very open, honest Christian camp. It does not pretend to be otherwise and it is clear in every piece of PR they put out that they are a Christian camp. What this means for the kids is that they pray before meals, sing a few God-songs at campfire, and pray with their counselors before bed. That's about it. Other than that, it is a camp with swimming, and crafts, and archery, and moto-x, and skateboarding etc.. etc.. etc... As I said before, Big J has loved it.

During the non-summer months, Camp Skate opens the skatepark during certain hours for kids to come and skateboard for a small fee. They are still quite clear that they are a Christian organization and they consider this part of their ministry. I believe at the end of the session they ask the kids to gather together and they say a short group prayer and then send them on their way. Again, they make no secret of who they are and what they are about.

I checked out this video "Camp Skate Sucks" and while the video itself wasn't too bad, the comments from the boys who attended one of these sessions made my heart sink. They claim to have been unaware it was a Christian skatepark. I don't know how they missed that one. I have never seen a piece of advertising or PR for this camp that wasn't very forthright about their affiliation and intentions. They claim that all they heard was that there would be free Gatorade and so they decided to go.

Their comments weren't surprising to me. I know that not very many kids these days view religious beliefs and practices in a positive light. What was upsetting to me was thinking about how Big J might feel if he should read their comments. The boys were clearly very annoyed and disgusted by the Christian affiliation. One of the comments read, "it is a Christian skatepark-sooooo g.ay!!!" Which is an offensive comment on so many levels.

The part that really bothered me though, on behalf of my son, was their very clear insinuation that anyone who would regularly skate at this skatepark, or profess themselves to be a Christian, is not only idiotic, but not a true skateboarder. In fact, one of them wrote that he thought it was "weird" that any kid would go to this skatepark by choice. A Christian who skateboards? Obviously you would have to be completely and totally lame.

I don't know if Big J will see this video or not and I am torn about whether or not to say anything to him about it. You have to remember, he is our kid who is never enthusiastic about any conversation that might get deep and real. I'm not even sure I could get him to talk about this or admit to having seen it even if I tried. But I do wonder how he feels about these kinds of comments and attitudes. I wonder if he shrugs them off or if they get into his psyche and make him doubt who we are and everything he has been taught? I wonder if it will make him self-conscious about the camp he attends, or telling other skateboarders the name of his school (a Christian school)? Just how much courage and self-awareness can we expect from a 14 year old boy?

It makes me wonder. It makes me worry. It makes me sad.

Monday musings

2009-02-02T08:33:00.001-08:00

- Big J looked painfully tired when he left for school this morning. Disheveled hair, rumpled clothes, bleary eyes, the works. I almost felt a teeny bit guilty when I crawled back into my warm bed after he left. Almost.

- I don't believe for a minute the diet gurus who tell us that if we just eliminate unhealthy starches and sugar from our diet long enough we will no longer crave them. I haven't had an unhealthy starch or refined sugar in almost three weeks and if I could have a big bowl of cookie dough right now without any repercussions to my health or waistline I would eat it in a minute. Seriously, yum.

- I don't know if there is anything sweeter than my Pumpkin when she first wakes up in the morning. When she wraps her arms around my neck and her warm little body snuggles into mine... it's heaven on earth.

- In other news, this "stimulus" package that is about to be foisted on all of us, as well as our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, has got me so angry it is almost causing me to forget my vow never to let anything that politicians do cause me any emotional distress. As a member of a fourth generation family construction business I know full well what happens to government money allocated to "infrastructure." Garbage.

- Why can't I ever get Pumpkin to preschool on time? Could it be because I am sitting at the computer fifteen minutes before she is supposed to be at school?

- Why is it so hard to think of what to fix for dinner every night?

- I know we won't be having another baby. We just won't. And, at the end of the day, it's probably more about missing the two babies I didn't get to raise than it is about wanting another one.

Just when you think...

2009-01-31T16:49:00.000-08:00

I really thought I had settled this. The past six months or so I have felt amazingly content with my life as it stands. The longings and wonderings had faded into a distant memory.

Then today, it hit me again.

Maybe I do want another baby.

Sigh... here we go again. Welcome back emotional roller coaster.

Looking for a do-over

2009-01-27T21:32:00.000-08:00

When I think of my role as a mother, and how well I have fulfilled that role, I often think of the years 2003-2006 as the Missing Years. I do so privately because anyone else in my real life would immediately assure me that I am being too dramatic or too hard on myself or a little of both. And they would be right. To call them the Missing Years is a bit dramatic because, of course, they happened, and I was here, and remarkably there was probably more good than bad.

Still, they were hard, complicated years and I was not always the mother my boys probably needed me to be.

A quick recap:

2003- Became pregnant with twins after 2+ years of going through fertility therapy; unexpectedly had to change schools for reasons beyond our control and not to our liking; started a new school while quite largely pregnant with twins; lost twins two months into the new school year. Grieving commenced.

2004- Still grieving lost babies; became pregnant again; learned my father was diagnosed with cancer.

2005- Still grieving lost babies; new baby born; Dad dies; now caught up in the throes of grieving father while mothering a rather high-need infant.

2006- Still grieving all of the above, still busy mothering beautiful baby- but the fog begins to lift...

And the thing is, when that fog lifted, my boy that had been all of 8 years old when this all started was now 11. And I think I missed some crucial windows of opportunity during that foggy, overwhelming time. He didn't lack for hugs, or smiles, or kisses good night. He didn't lack for love or even attention. What he missed out on was having a fully attuned, intentional mother. I gave him what I had and what came naturally, which was my love, but I didn't have the energy to think of what he might need beyond that. I wasn't looking for where he needed guidance, or support, or critical lessons about life and what lies ahead.

He made it easy, that one. He's a pretty simple guy with pretty simple needs. That's how he likes it, smooth and easy... everything on the level. Don't get too deep, don't push too hard, and we'll get along just fine.

But at 8 years old he was a little more open... a little more willing to hear, to talk, to listen. And I missed that.

Some things never change

2009-01-26T11:07:00.000-08:00

There is a sandwich shop near our home which we frequent all too frequently. The manager knows us by now. If I come in alone she always asks about the kids and she's always excited when I have Pumpkin with me. Clearly she enjoys children.

Today I popped in there just to get my precious diet soda (yeah, whatever, sue me), and she happily revealed to me that she is expecting twins.

Now, I've been at this long enough now that it wasn't any trouble for me to smile and offer her my most sincere best wishes. She told me she is really happy and excited and I told her that she should be, that it is wonderful news.

What surprised me was how much I wanted to tell her that I too was once expecting twins. That I had twins. That I know that excitement of planning for two babies to arrive at once. I wanted to share the good parts, but there was no way to do that without also sharing the bad. And sharing my own sad experience would not have been fair at all to her in the midst of her own happiness. She doesn't need my cautionary tale. I'm sure she has plenty of worries all of her own making. She's only 17 weeks along, she doesn't need me planting the thought that 7 weeks from now it could all be over, especially when in all likelihood it won't be. She, like the majority of other mothers who carry twins, will probably bring her babies home. And that is exactly what I want for her.

I got in the car and found myself needing to take a few deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I felt the tears starting to rise and I didn't want them to. I just didn't. So I stopped them, but somehow I haven't been able to lift the heavy weight that has settled on my heart since our conversation. Sometimes you can only push aside so much.

So much has gotten better in the past five years, but some things... I think they will just always be hard.

The song remembers when

2009-01-07T22:16:00.000-08:00

Today as I was driving along listening to Pumpkin chatter in the backseat a song came on the radio, one of the many songs that always bring Joseph and Molly to the forefront of my thoughts. As I let the lyrics penetrate my consciousness (something I sometimes prevent myself from doing) I felt tears spring to my eyes. No real tears, no sobs, just that abrupt swell of emotion that overtakes us when we are suddenly confronted with a memory so powerful it resonates in every fiber of our being.

Five years later I now possess an emotional Stop Button that functions quite nicely most of the time. It is the button I can press when I simply do not want to go there, right now, in this moment. It is the button that allows me to attend a birthday party for boy/girl twins and focus solely on my own adorable, living almost four year old child. And now, five years later mind you, it is the button I can go to when I feel the melancholy start to descend and yet there are dishes to wash, homework to correct and bedtime stories to be read.

I am grateful to have at long last acquired this handy Stop Button. But, at the same time, I am also glad that there are moments and memories that cannot always be so carefully controlled. I am glad to know a song can still bring them back to me- even for a moment.

Progress

2009-01-03T21:52:00.001-08:00

Progress- We are home. We are all reveling in the complete absence of snow and are not uttering a single complaint about the rain. I am choosing to ignore the overflowing suitcases and boxes yet to be unpacked.

Progress- I have declared an immediate end to the EatFest 2008 I have engaged in over the past two weeks and have initiated the beginnings of Return to Healthy Living 2009. I have exercised yesterday and today and have cut my daily calorie count by about 12,000 (that might be an exaggeration).

Progress- Pumpkin was asleep by 9:00 tonight as opposed to the 10:30pm bedtime she adopted over Christmas break.

Progress- Big J has conceded that he probably should formulate a plan for studying for his finals which will take place in three short weeks.

Progress- Today I took Pumpkin to a birthday party for four year old boy/girl twins and I suffered only the smallest ache when they sat side by side and blew out the candles on their cupcakes.

Progress- I am learning to celebrate progress rather than seek perfection.

And so it begins... or doesn't

2009-01-01T10:57:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year one and all!

And yet we are still here on The Other Side of the Mountains, feeling as though we are living our own version of Groundhog Day. More snow... Pass closed... can't get home.

It's a good thing I don't hold much stock in New Years, or resolutions, or artificial beginnings, because I might consider this a rather inauspicious start to 2009. But instead, in my Pollyanna way, I will see the blessings.

At least we weren't already on the road when the Pass was closed thus needing to either turn around or wait it out in Small Town, Northwest.

At least we have a warm, dry, cozy home in which to bide our time until the storm passes.

At least, and in fact there is nothing least about it, we have each other.

So, all of those choruses we sang about dreaming of a white christmas... enough already.

Prepare Ye

2008-12-19T21:33:00.000-08:00

We are safely on the Other Side of the Mountains. We managed to travel in the perfect weather window. Today the pass is closed and snow and wind are making even travel about town very difficult. It doesn't matter now though, we are safely tucked inside our warm little house here on the other side of the state.

It's been years since we have seen this much snow at Christmastime, even on this side of the state. It's really something. Well over two feet of snow has fallen and the drifts are considerably higher. A winter wonderland is putting it mildly. It's beginning to feel a lot like the North Pole around here.

I spent the day preparing and organizing our home for the endless stream of wet shoes and clothes that will be traipsing in and out of doors over the next two weeks we are here. It is critical that an adequate and carefully planned system be in place. One cannot have wet snow boots, hats and mittens simply thrown about willy nilly. That level of anarchy will only lead to a cranky mother. Hooks have been installed, cubbies put together, and appropriate drying locations have been designated. Everyone has been initiated and schooled on Winter 101 and so hopefully there will not be any breakdowns in the system.

Preparations for Christmas are in full swing. I have been furtively wrapping whenever I have a spare moment to myself. Unwrapped presents are carefully hidden along with all of the little items that will go in their stockings. I can feel myself starting to get very excited to see their faces on Christmas morning. I confess that I do love to give my children Christmas gifts. We resist giving them many "extras" throughout the year, so this is my time to indulge them a little. It is truly a delight for me to try and think of that special something that will both surprise and thrill them Christmas morning. I think I have succeded this year.

On our drive over the mountains, I asked the boys what gifts they could bring to give everyone that weren't things. Little T was initially confused, but Big J caught my drift right away. He immediately rattled off things like, "patience", "kindness", "helpfulness". Little T, now understanding my meaning, added "generosity", "good attitude" and "being calm". I told them that those would be the very best gifts they could give me and that I would try to give the same gifts to them in return. So far, I think we are all doing pretty well.

I'm rambling.... the snow is having a quieting effect on me. It's hard not to just settle onto the couch under a blanket and plan on not moving until Christmas. But there are things to be done, snow forts to build, stories to be read, presents to wrap.... And, hopefully, somewhere in there will also be time to watch, listen, pray, and wonder at the amazing reality we celebrate at Christmastime.

For God so loved the world....

Merry Christmas... blessings to everyone, everywhere.

His moment

2008-12-17T17:27:00.000-08:00

Someone forgot to tell someone that December in the Northwest is no longer soccer season. Someone forgot to tell Little T and the rest of his team that if they keep winning in the tournament they will still be playing soccer one week before Christmas- in the freezing cold, with the potential of snow. Someone forgot to tell someone and so now my 10 year old is off playing in the semi-finals, in freezing temperatures, with the potential for snowfall at any given moment. Someone apparently also forgot to tell him that all of this doesn't sound fun because he left the house very, very excited.

I found him on the couch staring into space. I couldn't help but be curious/concerned by his lack of movement and noise and inquired as to what he was doing. He sheepishly told me he was meditating.

Meditating? I asked, ever more curious.

Well, kind of.... I'm trying to visualize my game.

What are you visualizing? I asked him with a smile.

Oh... I'm picturing us scoring goals and everybody gathered together at the end of the game cheering. He told me with a big grin.

I've never seen Little T so keyed up over an athletic event. He is our sports-guy, and he shows admirable talent for a boy of his age, but he has always had the ability to carry the pressure of sports lightly and with a sense of humor. Seeing his anxiousness immediately made the butterflies fly from his stomach into mine.

How do we do this? How do we encourage and celebrate our children's triumphs without fearing their disappointments? How do we share in their joys and sorrows without owning their joys and sorrows?

I haven't been able to go to all of Little T's games but I told him I was planning on bundling up Pumpkin and trying to catch at least some of his game.

He blurted out, Don't do that!!

Confused, I asked him, You don't want me to come?

No, he confessed, it will just make me so much more nervouser (yes, he said nervouser).

I assured him that I didn't want to do anything to add to his nerves, so I would look forward to hearing all about it after the fact. But I couldn't help but add that there was no one in the world more on his side than me.

No matter what happens tonight, Little T, I will think you were fabulous.

He smiled, but declared, Yeah! Especially if we win!!

And off he went... into the frozen tundra, to slay his own dragons and learn how to hold his head high in either victory or defeat.

And I am left at home, keeping the home fires burning, pacing, watching the clock, and wondering how my little knight is faring in battle.

Update: They lost. It went to a Shoot Out (when the game is tied at the end of regulation time, they go to a series of five penalty kicks per team). That's a tough way to lose. Still, Little T has been bouncing around with his characteristic grin and sparkle. He seems a little disappointed but, as usual, he's not letting it bring him down for long.

Because it is a double-elimination tournament, and this is their first loss, they play again tomorrow for one more chance to go to the championship. Even if they lose, they will have finished in 3rd place, which is terrific. That will also mean we can leave to head Over the Mountains on Saturday as planned. So, now.... I kind of have mixed feelings on whether I want them to win tomorrow. I guess the good news is that there will be good news either way.

First Snow

2008-12-15T10:46:00.000-08:00

What's old is new

2008-12-12T22:18:00.000-08:00

Many thoughts these days, few words.

Instead I will share some beautiful words I came across that have startled me with their timelessness. I love finding words written in a completely different time and space that speak so clearly to me today.

What good is it to me

if this eternal birth of the divine Son

takes place unceasingly

but does not take place

within myself?

And,

What good is it to me

if Mary is full of grace

and if I am not also full of grace?

What good is it to me

for the Creator to give birth to the Son

if I do not also give birth to him

in my time

and my culture?

This, then,

is the fullness of time:

When the Son of God

is begotten

in us.

Meister Eckhart (1260-1329)

Looking out for the littlest

2008-12-06T22:18:00.000-08:00

Like most young children, Pumpkin has a tendency to get on bedtime book jags. Night after night, in spite of my attempts to entice her with all of the other lovely books on her shelf, she will select the same book from the pile. Night after night I read the same words, with the same inflection, and try not to drift off to sleep before the exciting conclusion. The past few nights the book of choice has been The Three Billy Goats Gruff.

The version we have of this classic story is really quite charming. I enjoy the illustrations and it has been re-told in such a way that is very true to the original. This particular book was also a fan favorite of each of my boys at various times and so I am quite familiar with its content. But as we all know, familiarity can breed complacency which was why I was so delighted when Pumpkin opened my eyes anew to this well known little tale.

The other night, after the three billy goats had successfully gotten themselves to the lush meadow of green grass and daisies, I proceeded to close the book with a cheerful, The End. Pumpkin, however, was not quite finished.

She took the book from my hands and studied its cover in silence for a moment. She ran her small hand over the picture, pausing for a second on each of the three billy goats. Then she slowly said, Mommy? Her brow furrowed and her gaze became increasingly quizzical. She said again, slowly and thoughtfully, Mommy? Why didn't the BIG billy goat just go first?

Before I could answer (or start laughing) she said again, answering her own question, Yeah. He should have gone first. He was the BIGGEST. Why did the little one go first? He might have been EATEN!

I looked at the picture with her and said all that I could think to say, I don't know, Pumpkin. But you're right, that would have made more sense, wouldn't it?

She nodded firmly, Yes. The biggest one should have gone first.

I thought her new enlightened view of The Three Billy Goats Gruff might mean it would get relegated to the bottom of the pile again, but no. We read it again tonight and she still wondered why that tiny little billy goat was sent to the wolves first when the biggest billy goat had the power to defeat the troll all along.

I guess I can take comfort in knowing there is no way Pumpkin will allow herself to be manipulated by her two older, much bigger brothers into being the first to cross any bridges occupied by trolls.

On growing up

2008-12-03T07:17:00.001-08:00

I imagine it would surprise most people to know that Pumpkin still sleeps in a crib. She is fast approaching four years old and I realize most children move out of the crib and into a bed long before then. It doesn't strike me as odd mainly because I have always been one to delay the move out of the crib as long as possible. Big J was exactly three when he was bumped from the crib in anticipation of the arrival of Little T. And Little T also remained in the crib until he was three even though there was no one coming along after him at that point. But Pumpkin has definitely set the record in this household.

I remember clearly Little T's move out of the crib mainly because I wasn't here for it. When Big J was in Kindergarten, he and I went to visit friends of ours who had moved to Paris. It was a big adventure for my little guy and I, and we left Little T and Superdad at home to fend for themselves (grandma came to take care of Little T during the day). At some point when we were away Superdad got a wild hair and decided it was time to move Little T from the crib and into the toddler bed that Big J had previously occupied. By the time I came home, the crib had been taken down and there was this little big boy bed in its place. I was stunned. In truth, I was a little angry. How could he make such a momentous decision in my absence? How could my baby boy not have needed his mommy to help him through this transition? How could they both be acting like it was positively no big deal??

The crib had been taken down and remained so for a long time after. We were hoping for another child, we were trying for another child, but another child remained an illusion.

We lost the twins before we had even had a chance to set that crib back up again. We had started discussions of buying a second crib but had decided in the early weeks they could sleep together in one crib. After they died, I gave the crib away. I gave a lot of things away, in fact. All of those boxes of baby clothes and pieces of furniture felt far too hopeful. They represented a faith in something that I couldn't muster at the time and I needed them to go away.

My sister helped me sort through the mounds of baby clothes I had left over from the boys. She encouraged me to keep several of my favorites and then she bagged up the rest and took them over the mountains to share with her sister in law, who was in need of baby boy clothes.

Superdad watched my sorrowful, maniacal purge with patience. He let me give it all away, even driving the crib himself to the Catholic church down the street who would be able to give it to a young mother in need. A friend, who helped arrange for the crib donation, asked me gently, are you sure? I simply said, yes.

When I became pregnant again, and all throughout those long 40 weeks, Superdad never once said anything to the effect of, we never should have given all that away. Never once. He let me set my own timeline as to when and how to plan for this new life, and never said a word about the dollars that were spent to replace items we had previously owned.

My mother and father bought Pumpkin a new crib. A few weeks before she was due to be born Superdad and I set it up in her freshly painted nursery. Neither one of us spoke of the optimism being expressed in those spring green walls, upholstered rocking chair and flowery crib bumpers. In the end, we could no longer speak of our fears, or our hopes, we just forged ahead.

Once the crib was set up, I remember sitting for a long time in the rocking chair looking around her room. With my eyes wide open I began to picture her in every corner of that room. I could see her in her crib. I could feel her in my arms. I imagined her twirling before her closet trying to decide what to wear. I could see her. Everything in me felt that if I could imagine her vividly enough, I could will her into existence.

Last night, Pumpkin complained again that she was ready to sleep in her big bed. It's already there. She has always had a twin bed in her room, left over from when that room was Little T's room. But it has been only recently that she has begun to understand that bed is her bed, and available to be slept in. Once again I promised her that we would get a rail for the bed soon and she would be able to sleep in it. I reminded her that she doesn't want to fall out of the bed and so we need to wait until we have a rail for it.

A pink rail, she reminds me.

Yes, a pink rail, I tell her.

I imagined the empty space that will be left when the crib is taken down in this house for the last time. And then I imagined all of the moments and memories that will come along to fill that space. She is here, just as I pictured. And the last thing I should wish for is for time to stand still.

Advent, expectation and hope

2008-12-01T07:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the first Sunday of Advent. In keeping my promise to myself that our family would become more aware of, and centered in, the calendar of our faith, I gathered my brood together in the evening for some "Advent time." They dutifully made their way to the living room and I am pleased to say there was not a single grumble. Big J did inquire as to what exactly we were going to be doing, and how long might it take? But he did so politely and didn't really seem all that bothered having claimed a comfy corner position on the couch.

Pumpkin scrambled into the middle spot on the couch, delighted to be seated between her beloved eldest brother and her mama. I only had to admonish Big J once to be a good example to his sister rather than encouraging her to be silly and disruptive. They responded by looking at each other and giggling.

Because it was Sunday, we had two reflections to cover. The lighting of the Advent candles, along with a short litany I had prepared, and the daily devotion for our Jesse Tree. Neither one is long or involved, I am not stupid, but the boys still managed to be moderately annoying and unfocused. Nevertheless, they did obediently participate and I think they might actually be able to explain the meaning behind the Jesse Tree. Maybe.

Pumpkin begged to be the candle lighter and we all obliged her for the first lighting of the first candle of Advent. However, I am well aware that Little T will not be interested in being so accommodating every evening and so I have a feeling we will have some tears, or multiple candle lightings, over the next few nights. It will be easier when there are at least two candles to light.

At the end of it all, it felt more like an exercise in gritted teeth patience, then the atmosphere of quiet expectation I had fantasized about. But as Superdad assured me, there is no way our kids are growing up without understanding what we value and believe. What they do with these traditions someday will be their own choice. Ultimately, their faith will be between them and God. But, in the meantime, I can continue to plant seeds, fertilize the soil, and pray for all of our efforts to bear fruit.

The first candle of Advent is the Candle of Hope. Indeed.

Just thankful

2008-11-27T21:04:00.000-08:00

It's getting late. I am stuffed full of turkey, pie and all the trimmings. Pumpkin needs to get to bed and so do I. The boys have already retired to their quarters and soon the house will be quiet.

We are spending this Thanksgiving on The Other Side of the Mountains, in our country home. It's our first Thanksgiving here with our own little sanctuary. It is positively wonderful. I spent the morning baking pies and trimming green beans in my own kitchen. In the early afternoon we went up to my Mom's and had a wonderful Thanksgiving with all of the family that could be in town. And now we have the blessing of being able to retreat back to our own space and end the day on our own terms. It's perfect.

My Mom seemed happy today which also makes me very thankful. I don't forget for one minute how stark and empty the holidays must feel for her without my father here- even though she doesn't show it. This is also her first Thanksgiving without her mom, my Nana, which must also feel strangely hollow.

I admire my Mom. She does an amazing job of focusing on the blessings in the present while allowing herself to remain mindful, even wistful, for those things she wishes were different. Those things we all wish were different.

So, I shall head up to bed thankful. Thankful for family, for home, for my children, my parents, my siblings... just thankful.

Good night. Happy Thanksgiving.

Moments on memory cards

2008-11-25T07:10:00.000-08:00

Having returned from our quick little vacation, and while wading through the 100+ photos I took, I can't help but be thankful for photography and video in all its forms.

I'd like to think I would never forget this face. But I would, eventually. I might be able to conjure up some vague version of her three year old self someday, but it wouldn't have the crystallized quality of this image. The sparkle, the tongue, the gleeful grin... I don't think I would have remembered all that. And so I am thankful for moments like this, caught on "film."

All work and no play...

2008-11-19T21:19:00.000-08:00

...makes this family cranky! So we are going to play for a few days!

Thus, I will be taking a blogging hiatus from my 30 Days of Thanks, but I promise I won't stop counting my blessings! It should be easy since I am never more thankful than when I get to make memories with my little family. See you when we get back!

Oh, and a quick shout out to Little T. The boys came home with their marching orders from their teachers in regards to the two days of school they will be missing. T had a pretty sizable stack of work but he was bound and determined to get as much done as he could before we leave tomorrow morning. He parked himself at our dining table for nearly three hours and diligently slogged through every single piece of work he had been assigned. He finished it all. I need to remember that boy's amazing self-motivation the next time he is making me positively insane with his non-stop energy.

Big J on the other hand.... well, he had a lot of excellent rationales for why it will be better for him to do most of his work while on vacation. Still, he did get a fair amount done and his attitude is a vast improvement over what it would have been last year. So, we will be thankful for progress.

Sunrise blessings

2008-11-16T22:07:00.000-08:00

Well... this is kind of starting to become the Every-other-day-of-thanks, but the truth is I really do spend all day focusing on my blessings because I am always trying to figure out what I will write that night! So even if I don't always write it down, it is still having its intended effect.

Today's blessing arrived with the rising of the sun- which is always a nice way to start the day. Pumpkin was in bed with me after a 2:00am nightmare that left her shrieking, "Moooother!!!" (Yes, mother. She prefers to call me mother these days.... I don't know why).

I had shot out of bed and dashed down the hallway as fast as I could knowing that the decibel was only likely to grow. I moved toward her in the darkened room and found her already standing, arms stretched out, ready to leap into mine as soon as I was close enough. She wrapped her little arms and legs around me like a chimpanzee and nestled her tear-stained face into my neck.

I have mentioned before that my tolerance for sleep deprivation is very, very low. This has caused me to adopt a whatever-gets-mom-the-most-sleep philosophy of nighttime parenting. I am all for short term results and care little about long term consequences when faced with a parenting conundrum at 2am. I console myself with the knowledge that this same lackadaisical attitude was used with my boys and they both sleep perfectly fine now and have for many years. All of this is to explain why once Pumpkin was firmly attached to my body my immediate path was back to my own bed where I plopped her down between Superdad and I and climbed back underneath my warm, cozy covers.

I have a confession to make... I don't really mind when this happens every now and then. There is something so profoundly reassuring about how quickly our daughter can move from terror to complete peace by the simple act of lying her down in between the two people who love her most in the world. Without fail she falls back to sleep nearly instantly. Her breathing slows, her body relaxes, her arms fling open wide in complete trust. She rests easily in the knowledge that nothing in the world could possibly harm her now that she is in this place- this fortress of love.

This morning we all slept in a little and so Pumpkin and I awoke at the same time. As we stretched and yawned we began to peek at each other through bleary, sleepy eyes. Once she realized where she was, and who was next to her, she scooted even closer to me and burrowed her head into my arms. We both dozed that way for a little while longer and then slowly started to say our good mornings.

I whispered, I love you, Pumpkin.

She whispered back, I love you too, Mother.

And the day began...

Mixed blessings

2008-11-14T11:55:00.000-08:00

I mentioned few posts ago that I have made a new friend, and indeed I have. This is momentous for me because although I have plenty of friendly acquaintances and a few good friends, I don't make new friends easily. I have trouble pushing past the barrier that stands between friendly chit chat and actual friendship. Somehow this time I have succeeded and I have enjoyed having a new person to call up for playground playdates or to share a laugh over lunch. I'm starting to think that my social need may be higher than I once thought.

Here's the trouble... my new friend will only be living here for another 9 months or so. Her husband is doing his fellowship work here and at the end of the fellowship they will move back to Michigan. I certainly don't begrudge them this arrangement, I want only the best for them and their family. They both grew up in Michigan and have family there so it all makes perfect sense. But I am a little sad that this new friendship comes with an expiration date.

I realize there is no reason we cannot continue to be friends in some fashion. I imagine we will exchange Christmas cards and send each other occasional emails, but let's be realistic... Michigan and my corner of the States couldn't be much further apart and life has a way of moving on.

I have decided though that their impending move is no reason not to continue to enjoy this new friendship while she is here. Really that would be the height of selfishness, wouldn't it? Plus, I have the feeling God is trying to teach me something with this relationship.

So, today, I am thankful for mixed blessings.

Grasping at straws

2008-11-12T20:53:00.001-08:00

Today was one of those days that was just so darn ordinary (see previous post) it is really hard to conjure up much gratitude. Oh, I am always thankful in a sort of vague I'm thankful for my life etc... way- but I would like to try and attempt to be a bit more specific than that.

So... here I go...

I am thankful that I don't have to be 13 again. I am especially thankful I don't have to be 13 while sporting a new set of braces on my teeth. I never had braces (yes, he hates me for that) but it really doesn't seem fun. I am also thankful he is handling it with such aplomb and good humor.

I am thankful Big J's science project is done- a day early.

I am thankful that Little T has school tomorrow after having the past three days off. I've loved having him home... but, well, it's enough.

I am thankful Pumpkin was asleep by 8:30 tonight.

I am thankful that I have the sort of husband who doesn't bat an eye (or complain) when he walks in the door at the end of the day and I say, I have no idea what we are having for dinner.

I am thankful I have very little on my schedule for the next two days because I really need to get some housecleaning done. And before I allow myself to mutter even a single whine about that, I will say that I am thankful I have a house to clean.

So, see there? There's always something...

Next thing you know I'll be changing my name to Pollyanna.

Ordinary time

2008-11-11T21:49:00.000-08:00

The Christian calendar has six seasons. The calendar begins with Advent and then moves to the seasons of Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter and Pentecost. After Pentecost there is a long period of time that is simply known as Ordinary Time.

I have always loved that name... Ordinary Time. To me it speaks to the reality that we cannot live in a constant state of heightened awareness, celebration, or even worship. We can't always be either feasting or fasting. Most of our lives exist somewhere in the middle.

In these final days of Ordinary Time I am trying to be thankful for just that. The dailiness of it all. I am trying to take comfort in routine and even the mundane. Ordinary Time is what allows us to not only recharge for the busier seasons of the church year, but also to anticipate them. As we move closer toward Advent we can start to taste and feel all that comes with that season of quiet expectation. But it's not here yet...

Today is still Ordinary. Tomorrow will be too. I choose to be thankful for that.

The Gratitude Police and grace

2008-11-10T08:32:00.000-08:00

Well, I missed Saturday and Sunday so the first thing I am thankful for is that there is no such thing as the 30 Days of Thanks police and that no one will be coming to confiscate my computer as punishment for my poor participation. Phew!

It was an odd weekend in some respects. Little T had a classmate over to play which gave all of us cause to be thankful and to practice grace. This young boy, all of about 10 years old, is Korean and is going to school here in the States away from his family, his homeland, and his culture of origin. He lives here with guardians whom I believe are also Korean and goes home to visit during school breaks (provided they are of sufficient length to warrant the 9 hour plane trip home). He has been doing this since the third grade.

He is a quirky child and it made me proud that Little T has befriended him since I wonder how well he relates to the other children. He prefers to dress formally, listens to classical music and is a bit OCD when it comes to cleanliness and hand washing. He has no interest in sports (other than Tae Kwon Do, in which he is quite accomplished). He doesn't care for video games or TV. It was a little embarrassing for me when I caught myself wondering, what on earth will they do? But, of course, there are other options and they did find them.

Unfortunately one of the other options turned out to be the destruction of our house. Both incidents were accidents, certainly not intentional, but they left Superdad and I wondering if this boy might possibly be bionic. He was more than apologetic. He actually seemed a bit afraid as to what the consequences might be until I assured him that we were not the sort of adults who believe in punishing children severely for mistakes, however much damage they might have caused to our walls and doors. He seemed slightly reassured by that but never stopped apologizing for his "incompetence" and for giving "a very poor impression."

I don't know if he will ever come over again. It wouldn't surprise me if he felt too mortified to ever set foot in our house again and I'm not sure the playdate was his idea anyway. In surveying the damage Superdad and I had to wonder if we ever wanted him to come over again. But if there were ever a boy in need of forgiveness, love and grace, this is the boy. I feel thankful that we had the opportunity to show him a little bit of all three, I pray we succeeded.

So this weekend I felt thankful that we do not live in a situation, or a country, or whatever the reason, that we feel it is in our children's best interest to send them thousands of miles away from home to gain an education. I felt thankful that we have a son with a kind, open heart who has the capacity to befriend a child so completely unlike himself (think Oscar and Felix). I felt thankful that I am married to a man who can keep his cool even in the face of lapses in judgement resulting in the need to get out tools, spackle and paint. I felt thankful once again for this little family, our home, and the blessing of abiding together under one roof.