Moms in the Deep End

A Fountain of Tears

2009-11-15T19:55:00.000-08:00

Motherhood -- OK, life -- it just rips my heart out sometimes. My new mantra: DON'T LOOK DOWN! I feel like I am rock climbing at unimaginable heights. It is all fine as long as I am concentrating on the next hand-hold. When I get distracted and see how far I have to go or how far I might fall, I am sent into utter panic.

I just lost it tonight when I mistakenly stepped back for a broad look at life. David is on the verge of exiting childhood. It is spinning so quickly, and today alone, I must have missed a hundred opportunities to be a better Mom. I don't do the things I want to do because I am not the person I want to be. Somehow, I'm the same darn person I've always been. These weaknesses persist despite so much wishful thinking. Is it just me? Is everyone else on the path to improvement and somehow I just can't get it?

The Trouble with Tolerance

2009-10-11T11:57:00.000-07:00

I have been educated in the post-modern world where TOLERANCE reigns supreme. I was a part of a conversation the other day with a group of women that struck such a sad chord with me. My first, instinctive thought was to feel shocked at the intolerance that was expressed. Then it registered -- I hate tolerance, too. I don't hate it because it has come to represent the socialist agenda of the radical left. I hate it because it is a watered-down, sorry replacement for LOVE.

If we claim to be followers of Christ, our LOVE for every person should shine so brightly that simple tolerance looks just plain dirty in comparison. The sermon this morning lined up so well with my current train of thought -- Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. She had been married 5 times and was currently shacking up with guy #6. She was a complete social and moral failure, and yet He drank without hesitation from her pot of water. He did not ask her to clean up her act, repent, or marry her lover. He simply offered her true love -- water from the eternally bubbling spring of life only He can offer.

That is what it should look like. Many people who claim Christ today are doing the complete opposite. They are very loudly telling everyone how to clean up their act, and smugly denying them the only thing that truly transforms -- LOVE.

It sickens me to remember times when I have either failed to show love or offered only paltry tolerance. For, I am the woman at the well -- failing over and over again. I was accepted just as I am. Love is the only thing I have that's worth hanging on to.

It's Tough Being a Girl

2009-10-11T11:50:00.000-07:00

Last week in my first grade girls' Sunday school class, we discussed Saul's jealousy of David. When I asked the girls if they had ever felt jealous, EVERY hand went up. Here a a handful of responses -- remember -- 6 & 7 year-olds.

"I can tell right now that some girls are going to grow up and be prettier than me, and that makes me jealous."

"I feel jealous when another girl has cooler or prettier clothes than me, and I don't like myself when I feel like that."

"I get jealous when some people seem like best friends. I want to be the kind of teenager that talks to the girls that get left out, but I still want to be one of the cool girls. I get scared because I don't think that is going to work out real well."

Wow!

Nonny

2009-09-25T19:26:00.000-07:00

My Nonny (maternal grandmother) is in her last moments, hours, or days of her life. This entry is really more for me than for anyone else.

She was only 42 when I was born, and her youth definitely put a different spin on our relationship. I am just noting the obvious things that come to mind about my time with her.

She is front and center in my first 2 memories of life. That in itself is significant to me. I think my Mom is right that my grandmother's love for me was as large as her personality. I got that even as a wee little one.

I wasn't talented at being a kid -- from the age of 2 I think I wanted to be a grownup. But, I remember being a child with her. My first memory was holding her hand at the age of 3 walking on the stone wall that lined the driveway of our house. It's just a mental snapshot, but I remember that she was beautiful (and was she ever). The second memory is my lovely Nonny with a fierce look on her face as she spoke to a (not-so-nice) nurse in the hospital where I spent several weeks battling bacterial meningitis. As my Mom had baby Sarah to tend to as well, Nonny was there for battle in the military hospital (along with a wonderful red-headed male nurse that I will never forget).

Here are the snapshots that follow: water hose in the back yard...playing chase with the stuffed snake the size of a large boa constrictor... my first ride on Big Bend roller coaster at Six Flags (I made her put both arms around my waist, so no telling what that ride was like for her)... taking me to the makeup counter at the age of 8 for a make-over... hours of playing with her costume jewelry... opening her home to 8 Jr. High girls for UTA volleyball camp... watching her go down the Kamikaze water slide -- in a swimsuit -- well into her 50's -- just for me... seeing her in the stands at numerous sporting events -- often sternly scolding the refs for my sake... giving me ammo when my Mom wanted my not-so-mini-skirts to be 2 inches above the knee (great pictures from the mid-60's -- how on earth did they sit in those dresses?)... receiving a thoughtful, sincere and loving card from her every birthday for as long as I can remember...shopping with her and my Mom for my wedding dress and picking the one she liked! I don't regret it a bit.

In my adult years, she has been my friend -- truly my friend. Usually when we talked on the phone (most weeks), it is for an hour or 2. We talked about everything, and we had the benefit of a generation gap that provided insulation when we were less than perfect to each other. Marriage, politics, religion, fears, tears, anything really, was on the table. My favorite recent memories are when she and Aunt Lisa made the trip to New Jersey where we lived for a little over a year. My experience up there was more than I can explain in words, and they totally got it in just a few days. Last year, there was an important ASU basketball game Nonny couldn't get from her cable provider. We stayed on the phone the entire game, with me giving play by play calls and telling her how Lisa's hair looked every time I caught the back of her head. During commercials, we talked intensely about what it was like to grieve the spouse you spent your life with. Each commercial break I heard her recall a segment of her experience.

Nonny and Papa have been my biggest fans. Their belief in me has encouraged me to try to live up to their vision, or at least come closer to it. Nonny's fiesty honesty has challenged me as I tend to play the role of doormat to the detriment of myself and my family. She has made me a better woman. As I parent my children, I am convinced that my love for them will far outweigh the pros and cons of my parenting personality. As I grieve the loss of the powerful force in my life I called my Nonny, I laugh with joy at the thought of her united with my Papa free from the strains of this world. Knowing they are there waiting for me will no doubt make my own aging a little less frightening.

Decisions

2009-09-25T18:37:00.000-07:00

I cannot imagine building my own custom home. I am making choices about my tiny, gutted kitchen, and my brain is a little overloaded. Actually, the kitchen is not the problem. I just can't decide what to wear to the grocery store, what to drink with my dinner, or what bedtime book to read to my kids. I literally find myself staring down the bookshelf for 5 minutes. The ability to decide between Wacky Wednesday or Green Eggs and Ham completely escapes me. Lucky for my kids, the answer is usually both. Unlucky for my waistline, the 5-minute stares into the pantry have had a similar outcome.

3 Down, 1 to Go

2009-09-20T17:23:00.001-07:00

All 3 of my kids are going to bed in a fit of angry tears because I have temporarily ruined their lives by turning off a computer, sticking to my guns about David staying in after claiming he was too sick to go to church, and not allowing T.V. after bedtime on a school night. No doubt I will say something wrong or severely annoy Bret before it's all said and done. That ending seems inevitable at this point.

~Mommy Dearest

Follow-Up

2009-09-03T06:32:00.000-07:00

I have been pondering my people-pleasing ways. Another pattern that plays out in my life is that I am constantly promising (indirectly) more than I can produce. I present the front that makes others happy, and they come to believe that the front is more than skin-deep. When I cannot deliver the expected stellar performance, they are even more disappointed with me than they would have been had I only been my poor little self to begin with. A vicious and ironic cycle to say the least...

And then come the kids. Alas, I cannot control their performance, and the true family colors are laid out bare for all to examine. Much to my dismay, my secret failings are actually quite public.

Dark Corners

2009-08-26T07:31:00.000-07:00

I am a classic people-pleaser. I remember people-pleasing thought patterns from as early as 3 years old. Growing up with what could be described as a mildly-Aspergian brain, I lacked skills in critical areas such as asking for what I wanted, setting strong boundaries, and resolving conflict. To compensate, I trained myself to pay attention to what made people seem happy when I was with them. Looking back, it reminds me of the behavior modification program I designed for my rats in my psychology studies. Man, was I good at making people happy -- especially the grown-ups. I got all kinds of citizenship awards, recognition for being a humble servant at every turn. Of course, the motivation behind each good deed was my own comfort as people liked me.

As I emerge from the 10-year haze of little ones, I have time to take stock of the relationships most dear to me. I am sorry to say that many of the same patterns are still in play. In the darkest corners lurks the knowledge that most of my good deeds -- most of what I wish for others -- is tainted with the worst kind of selfishness, the hidden kind. I think it is worse because it is manipulative. It lulls me into delusions of my own kindness, and it secretly tarnishes my faithful labor to my family and my prayer life. It is also one of the quickest triggers for my anxiety.

Of course, we all have dark corners. My hope is that by giving mine a swift sweep every so often will motivate me to keep moving in the right direction.

The Glass Castle

2009-08-19T14:58:00.001-07:00

Read this book, and you might realize you are not such a lousy mother after all. Or, if you really are insane and lazy, there is still an outside chance your kids will turn out OK in spite of you. Or, maybe you are one of those rare Moms who has it all together...

Quick Trips

2009-08-19T06:33:00.000-07:00

David and Bret are on their way back from a 3-day Colorado adventure. The girls and I returned last night from a 36-hour visit with family in Austin. Highlights were hours of pretend play with girl cousins, heated debates about the virtues of unicorns and pegasuses, and my sister and I sneaking off (babysitters were hired) to see Harry Potter with our lovely sister-in-law.

I'll post pictures from CO soon. In the meantime, I truly enjoyed this poem this morning on 3quarksdaily.

One Should See One’s Home From Far Off

Rush 1, Obama 0

2009-08-17T06:07:00.000-07:00

This week was SCARY! Conservatives in a feeding frenzy because they can't seem to think for themselves. Any reading of the so-called "death clause" in the proposed health care plan by a sane person would suffice to stop the madness. Someone thought it would be a good idea to counsel families about end-of-life care and treatment. Now, they will rip that out and we will go on draining every last drop of the future financial resources of their grandchildren. Seriously, people, you really have to stop and consider the source when it is Sarah Palin doing the talking. I'm pretty sure she is a good person, but she has not exactly proven herself on the issues. Her best talent seems to be whipping the uneducated masses into hysteria.

As it is, the AARP has ensured that seniors can extend the painful aging and dying process for as long as mechanically possible. There is no way that my generation will be able to feed our families if some common sense is not injected into this conversation.

Please read this Op-Ed from the NYT and pass it along.

Health Care's Generation Gap

Also, regardless of your opinion of Obama's politics and policies, give him a chance and read his Op-Ed as well:

Why We Need Health Care Reform

I wish everyone would take a time out and do some deep breathing. I am equally disturbed by the Obama administration for their attempt to jam something through. There is NO WAY a good plan could be put together this quickly -- too many complex variables. One of the worst things that could happen would be Congress passing a mediocre plan that changes everything and nothing all at the same time.

Not Much to Say

2009-08-13T18:37:00.000-07:00

I have completely neglected this blog. I have sat down on several occasions and drawn a blank. David came down with a "flu-like-virus" on May 28th. He was sick for 10 days. Once he was completely recovered, the girls got sick (one at a time). Then it was my turn (10 days at least). When I emerged from the fog of fever and fatigue, it was the 3rd week in July.

Now, Bret has a similar mysterious illness and David is sick again. Anna likely has an ear infection and my brain is mush. Not only have I ceased to have interesting thoughts, I have ceased to have interesting experiences because I am tightly tethered to this here house.

I have had a tiny taste of what some mothers deal with day after day for years on end - with illnesses that do not kindly go away on their own. I hope I will always remember this feeling and be filled to the brim with compassion for families who live out their days removed from the crowd and just surviving.

My blog title suits my current feelings about parenthood. My kids have some serious issues, and I feel like I am sinking at times. I read an article the other day that claimed that parenting styles (outside of abuse) have little impact on the outcome of adult behavior. I hope for the sake of my kids that this is true. These days, I dream of winning the lottery so I can hire Super Nanny full time -- not to teach me (too much effort) -- just to take over every area that requires serious discipline and follow-through. Just let me snuggle and have long, meaningful conversations.

10 year old boys

2009-07-12T15:30:00.001-07:00

I have a few 10 year old boys over for David's birthday party. I am amazed that they are louder and screechier than the 4-7 year old girls we had just a few weeks ago. Maybe the voices changing won't be so bad after all. I am horrible at parties. Don't like going to them, don't like giving them -- unless it is a small, simple affair for grown-ups. Fortunately, I don't think my kids know this about me. The birthdays are closely stacked together, so I get to knock them out over about a 6 week stretch.

Adolescents to Admire

2009-07-11T17:04:00.000-07:00

In light of my whining about teenagers' fashion choices, I should mention that I have the privilege of knowing a handful of young ladies that just knock my socks off. One of them is my precious neighbor who loves my kids and has the judgment of a 30 year old. It is not an easy time to be 16-25, but it can be done well.

Too Deep

2009-07-02T20:13:00.000-07:00

My thoughts on parenting are running deep through the recesses of my soul this week. I have no words yet.

So, a couple quick thoughts from the surface level:

Parenting is humbling: Today, before cutting Amber's hair, the sweet, young hairdresser asked what kind of shampoo I used before commenting on the build-up do to the obvious lack of shampooing in general (letting me know with contemptuous eyes that she knew full well just how dirty that pretty little head gets). Of course, her nails looked like she is never bathed -- I promise, she actually soaked for a while last night!

A thrifty girl's night gown solution -- my girls love thinking they are sleeping in something girly and special, but the prices! Come on! So, I shop clearance in the Juniors dept. at Target. They make the shirts for teenage girls so tight they look like they are painted on. So, an XS is the perfect nightgown for a 4 yr. old -- I get Amber a S. I snag a couple for around $3 each season.

Speaking of painted on clothes for teenage girls -- anyone notice that the teenage girls wander the public pools 98% naked? Did all the girls wear string bikinis when I was in high school and I just failed to notice? I made Bret promise me the other day that I would have his backing when I lay the law down on this one. I'm talking really thin strings here -- with triangles that barely hold it all in. And these days, there seems to be more to fit in those tiny pieces of fabric. Most 13 year-olds are bustier than I was at 20.

Losing the Battle

2009-06-15T15:39:00.000-07:00

There are significant blind spots in my parenting -- areas of major failure. Usually, they turn around my lack of personal discipline -- and thus the lack of giving such discipline to my children. I would be a wealthy woman if I had a dollar for every time some wonderful individual advised me that my kids would benefit from more structure. I do have friends that struggle with leaning too far the other way as well. It is something I will continue to work hard on, but there is also part of me that is learning to be OK with my personality. My kids will definitely have to work on broken parts of themselves due to my lacking, but isn't that what being a grown-up is all about?

The latest battle that rages in my house is due to my prior failure to make Anna eat normal kid food. She has dined on pureed fruits & veggies and melt-in-her-mouth-carbs. Now I am attempting to draw a line, and I'm getting nowhere fast. This will be a summer-long endeavor. She has a will of steel and has now gone 48 hours with no major nourishment. Here is a picture of her asleep at 6:45 p.m. unable to climb the stairs because she is so darn tired.

On a sort-of-related note, I would highly recommend the book pictured below: Timothy Keller's The Reason for God (got it at my library), especially if you have a mind like mind. In his chapter titled The Problem of Sin, he quotes a sermon by Barbara Brown Taylor:

"Neither the language of medicine nor of law is adequate substitute for the language of [sin]. Contrary to the medical model, we are not entirely at the mercy of our maladies. The choice is to enter into the process of repentance. Contrary to the legal model, the essence of sin is not [primarily] the violation of laws but wrecked relationship with God, one another, and the whole created order. "All sins are attempts to fill voids," wrote Simone Weil. Because we cannot stand the God-shaped hole inside of us, we try stuffing it full of all sorts of things, but only God may fill [it]."

I love the word "stuffing" as one of my primary sins involves stuffing things in my mouth in search of some temporary control or satisfaction.

Purpose of Parenting

2009-06-05T06:53:00.000-07:00

I was thinking through my motherly job list and contemplating what my goals are in parenting. Of course, I immediately had to confront how much time I waste, how backwards my priorities are at times and many other lovely insights, but that's for another day's discourse. Today, I am looking at it more broadly -- more practically.

1. Food, housing, clothes, medicine. Keep them breathing, if possible.

2. The 3 R's of academic education.

3. Learning about the world they inhabit.

4. Playing successfully with others.

5. Investigate their place in time and the universe (spiritual health).

So, basically, I'm trying to get them ready for what's coming -- to handle it without me. But, I think we might be a bit delusional about what's coming. I'm increasingly convinced that it is not the prosperity we have enjoyed. I am laughing as I type this because it is obvious to me that the "prosperity" of Gen X is nothing close to the prosperity of the baby boomers. All that money we as a culture thought they had made and would be spending has suddenly vanished. The more I read, the more I am convinced it ain't coming back.

Although we might technically come out of this recession by year's end, our nation's economic situation is dire to say the least. Take a look at this article in Slate:

Green Shoots, Red Ink, Black Hole

He briefly outlines the basics, but doesn't even mention the looming crisis of the elderly we don't have money to care for. Nor does he address that even young families like ours that have great medical insurance, pay out about 10 - 20% of their income for medical and dental expenses. Folks, we've got a problem, and our kids need to be ready to deal.

There are obvious skills that they can obtain that will possibly be beneficial (survival stuff) -- gardening, sewing, solid first aid, learning how to shop smart, and how to perform basic auto repairs/maintenance. That's a great start. But, more than that, I'm thinking about the very nature of their expectations. Are we doing them any favors by indulging them the way we were indulged with an endless supply of new toys, lives of leisure, and every activity someone can come up with to entertain and "enrich" them? I'm not pointing the finger here because my kids are part of this mix.

Oh, I'm also wondering if I need to figure out how to add Mandarin and not just Spanish to the curriculum as China owns our butt!

Antsy

2009-06-03T18:39:00.000-07:00

Had one of those days... I have a strange list of things that make me antsy, nervous, anxious, or just creeped-out. Here are some that showed up during the past few hours: high fever in a child, shots for another child (I'd rather give my kid a shot than watch someone else do it -- is that weird, or what?), 2 big, crunchy roaches to dispose of (give me a copperhead or coral snake any day -- just not a big roach!), a piece of molded fruit, several shrunken, shriveled ballooons due to the recent birthday celebrations (again, I know I'm a bit bizarre, but I can barely deal with them), an overwhelmed husband, 2 friends in crisis, and a sky that looked like rain for 2 hours and then didn't. That is a funny thing I've noticed about my brain. If it doesn't rain for a while and the grass is looking like it sat under a broiler, a chance of rain in the forecast makes me anxious -- I watch the radar for minutes at a time -- wishing the small, wandering cells to slide over my hot house. So, I am drained. Such efficient use of my energy, don't you think?

Fuzzy in the Morning

2009-06-01T05:41:00.001-07:00

It's only 7:41 a.m., but I've been up with Anna for a long time. She came bounding in around 6 because it's her birthday and her little body just had to get this day a goin'. My head is foggy because Bret and I got into a big conversation about everything right around 11:15 p.m. last night. Without noticing that it was past my bedtime, I sipped on a glass of red wine while we figured the world out. BIG mistake. I absolutely cannot get away with that anymore. I'm watching the sun attempt to stream through and embarrassingly dirty window, and that is probably a good thing for my bleary eyes. How many years of grime must that be? That task has remained steadily at the bottom of my to-do-list for a long time now. Today might just be the day it climbs to the top. So, we're contemplating going to see UP in 3-D for Anna's b-day in a couple of hours. Loud and visually stimulating -- just what I need.

Amber turned 7 a couple weeks ago. The 2 months leading up to the big day were just a bit shaky. It was like a very jacked-up version of the classic middle child syndrome -- with Asperger's. Angry, vacillating violently between being overly withdrawn and physically aggressive. Just when I started investigating child psychologists, it stopped. Our little Amber came back to us. Friday night at Caroline's party, I noticed something. Amber had caught up with Caroline in height (at least it was darn close). If you don't know who Caroline is, suffice it to say that she is tall. Much taller than Amber most of the time. I seriously think Amber had to have grown 3 inches in those nutty 2 months. When teenage boys grow at that pace, they become mute - and mutant! I think that's what happened -- all of her energy went into making those new cells, and there was not enough left to manage her emotions.

Anna announced that she "brushed her teeth with herself" last night. Amber called me and said, "You better do it again because she is probably lying. People lie a lot." Flash -- back to 1979 -- I had that thought in my head all the time. I was amazed at how much people lied. My brain was even more computer-like at that point in its development, so every time a grown up was being "socially nuanced", I thought they were basically telling a big whopper. I thought that was just how it was done. As a grown-up, I have never lost in a game of Balderdash. Know the one? You make up definitions to words no on has heard of and convince everyone else that yours is the real deal. Well, the tales I told as a child were, what's the word? Poppycock, malarkey -- I made stuff up just for fun. I learned to weave just enough truth in them that people (especially grown-ups) bought in hook, line, and sinker. What a strange thing to remember about myself.

A Funny Thing

2009-05-24T09:30:00.000-07:00

Just a note -- the whole purpose of this blog was to post stuff I shouldn't put in the other blog. Well, in my sleep-deprived state, I managed to put 2 entries in the wrong spot. Oh, well. Thanks to my long-time friend Abbie, who took the time to post a comment, I figured it out.

Anne Lamott

2009-05-24T09:21:00.000-07:00

I rarely recommend Lamott's books to my friends because she is so rough around the edges -- wild and passionate with the mouth of a sailor on occasion. But, her stories just grab me -- raw and authentic. If I were to tell someone where to start, it would be the classic, Traveling Mercies. Right now, I'm reading Plan B Further Thoughts on Faith. This passage reflects what I hope I am working towards and already experience on occasion.

"I was at a wedding the other day with a lot of women in their twenties and thirties. Many wore sexy dresses, their youthful skin aglow. And even though I was twenty to thirty years older than they, a little worse for wear, a little tired, and overwhelmed by the loud music, I was smiling.

I smiled with a secret smile of pleasure in being older.... Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life -- it has given me me.... I fit into me now." ~Plan B pp. 171-2

I still struggle with my quirks, anxiety, not liking my post-baby body, blah, blah, blah. But, I am not freaked out by the fact that I will not teach my kids even a fraction of what I want to. I'm kind of O.K. with the fact that I'm not superwoman and that they will have to struggle with my shortcomings and probably go through therapy just like I did. It's not that I like myself more, it's more of a peaceful resignation.

I'm going to stop there because it's 5:30 a.m. and I've been awake since 2:30 because my body is nuts for a couple days every month at this time and won't stay asleep -- makes me prone to rambling on...

Boob Jobs, Brazilians, & Bibles

2009-05-24T09:20:00.001-07:00

The deep south is known for a couple things -- beautiful, well-manicured women and deep cultural connection with the conservative church. But, I have to say, as discussions of plastic surgery and bizarre bikini waxes have become a part of small group Bible study, I am just mystified. I know some of this stems from the fact that I live in The Woodlands where the money is flowing and housing is very cheap, but really! Are we going there? Are we taking our daughters with us? It makes me want to run for the hills, or maybe just find a nice little cave somewhere.

Aly, Amber, and Aspergers

2009-05-13T06:13:00.000-07:00

My daughter may or may not have Aspergers. The official diagnosis -- especially in mild cases, and more especially with girls -- is tricky. But I do know that she has LOTS of traits that fit the bill and that reading about it has been really helpful. I'm working my way through a dull yet hugely informative textbook right now, and I have another book on the way (Look Me in the Eye -- thanks, Adrianne.)

Anyway, I was reading the first chapter a couple days ago, and the author was giving an account of a little boy named Jack at a birthday party. I found myself laughing heartily as I could think of several scenarios just this week when I was Jack. Not Amber -- ME! Now, I know my brain is different, but mainly I thought of myself as a strange little kid and felt like puberty kind of glossed it all over quite nicely. Ha!

2 times in particular come to mind. The first was Adrianne over at my house for a short lunch w/ the kids. A simple cooking question on her part, and I launch into an encyclopedic monologue, 80% of which was of no use to her, dominated out time together, and then she had to go. Not only was I being socially retarded, so to say, I was also displaying one of my obsessions. I am amazed at how much my brain has cataloged about a myriad topics. I'm not passing judgment on myself because I know we all have quirks, but I am laughing out loud!

Another time that makes me more sad is with my friend Laura. She is so dear that she probably didn't even notice my self-centeredness. I just know that on a week that should have been all about her and what she was dealing with, I am reflecting on conversations that I turned to me and my troubles that are but a faint shadow of hers. Why? Mostly habit, but also there is a part of me that still doesn't quite know what to do or say on the spot. So, my mouth just starts running. Fortunately for me, I have some really great friends. I am now humbly realizing that when my dear mother thanked Laura for sticking with me through the years, she was right. I am glad we can all stumble around together, girls.

All Out of Love

2009-05-13T05:57:00.000-07:00

I had one of those tossy-turny nights last night caused by my own severe shortcomings. 2 things were spinning around in my crazy head. One is that I am amazed anew at what a selfish person I am, even when it comes to my own kids. I mean really selfish sometimes. I know I would throw myself in front of the bus to save one of them, but that is relatively easy as a grown person. It's the day to day stuff. I realize, for instance, that my refusal to take care of myself -- eating poorly, drinking too much, not excercising, is very self-indulgent. Short-term, I have less energy and focus. Long-term, the potential physical and mental health issues would be a burden for my kids. Even though I home school and am completely responsible for my own household, I still have to admit I am selfish with my time. Hours awasted in front of that big brain-sucker at night.

The other thought swimming in my head is that I don't think I can magically muster up the next level. When I think about "stepping it up" and changing the way I am living, I draw a blank. Because the truth is -- I am pretty darn tired. There's not much left down deep inside me. And then it hits me slap in the face that if I can't absorb some of that Jesus-kind-of-love, I'm lost. There is no other level. I'm tired of wandering around in the desert.

Mediocre Mothering

2009-04-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

We receive it. We give it. A fraction of ourselves. My intention is to pour out my full being -- love so full and large that they are enveloped. My actions are partial, selfish, limited. I am a mediocre mother. It's all fine from the outside view. They are fed, clothed, un-abused. Yet, there is not a night when I go to bed satisfied with my day. They will grow up and need therapy to deal with my shortcomings and with their shortcomings caused by my lack of mothering greatness. Like Paul, I know what I should be doing, yet I don't do it. I know what I should avoid, but I stomp right into the middle of it anyway. Lovely.

Issues with Visibility

2008-12-27T09:51:00.000-08:00

An often-discussed subject among stay-at-homers: a large portion of my being (much of being parts that are rather important to me) have become invisible. On view are the parts that service other people and the parts that are disliked or even disgusting to others. Life takes its toll on everyone, but for us, I believe the wear and tear is worse. I don't say that in the midst of a pity party. My observations (and I am an observer) hold it up. So, we get worn down, and our personhood diminishes. Our skills are dulled, our shortcomings intensify, and our contribution shrinks. It really does. On top of that, what we do contribute is so routine that it loses its value. Now, I know my value would quickly increase if I were to die or leave for an extended time. But, while I am here, it will continue to shrink.

So, what to do, if anything? The past year, I have been trying to "do better". If I can become more organized, disciplined, healthy, fit, spiritually wise, etc... I will be happier. My family will love me, and contentment will be within reach. Let's just say that I fell flat on my face, and I think I have actually moved steadily backward. On occasion, I recognize the panic that simmers at the core of my being. Usually, I just shove it down. I have only failed at similar self-improvement attempts about 99 times. I just know that I will be golden on my 100th try in 09. If not, I'm afraid some serious adjustments might need to be made. Kids will find their rear ends in a public school chairs, and I will get to work on myself. Until then, all I can say is here we go again.

Super-Collider

2008-09-29T18:31:00.000-07:00

A judge just tossed the lawsuit attempting to stop the new super-collider (atom smasher) located in a tunnel underneath the Swiss-French border. The plantiffs used "scientific evidence" to state that it is possible these nuclear collisions could produce tiny black holes and eventually destroy the planet. Woa! What in the world does any of this have to do with motherhood?

Only this: at first reading, I felt an immediate twinge of fear. A minute or so later, a thought broke through from my subconcious --COOL-- maybe I won't have to deal with this life any more. No, I'm not thinking of ending it all, but I am somewhat overwhelmed! I am not truly happy with any area in my life. I feel fat and sluggish, and I have my own poor habits to blame for it. My kids also have some bad habits which I have enabled. Skimming through the book Home Learning Year by Year by Rebecca Rupp, I am keenly aware that I have missed a few things. I know I can make it up, but I wonder how I will be able to shut my brain down when I go to bed in a few minutes. Of course, if I sent my kids to school, they would have it all down pat, right? My husband is also a bit spent, and we seem to be quite aware of each other's shortcomings as of late. He is have a great time with friends in Nashville. I am glad for him, a bit envious of his freedom, and feeling insecure (psychotically so) knowing he will spend a week with grown-ups in the working world that have no kids, who probably have very interesting things to say in comparison to boring old me. Pathetic, huh?

I am about to fall into the bed early hoping to make up for the sleep the last 3 nights have failed to provide. Hopefully I won't have one of my classic anxiety attacks about all the things that are wrong with me. Those seem to hit the worst when I am already tired and need to sleep the most. And just for the record, the shortcomings I write about only scratch the surface. What lies beneath are things I would never blog about. I do lay awake in the middle of the night sometimes wondering if I am the only one with such dark places.

Suffocation

2008-05-06T12:39:00.000-07:00

I'm sure many Moms can relate to this. I sometimes feel so overwhelmed by human contact that I think I cannot breathe. I actually have the same internal panic that I have if I am in a small space or have one of my limbs restrained. I literally cannot get enough air into my lungs. I used to contemplate running away (not for good, just a while). Now, I just fantasize about having a Life Remote Control with a big pause button in the middle. I could stay with my family that I love but just make them all quiet and still every now and then.

Tame the Brain

2008-05-03T18:01:00.001-07:00

I seem to have lost all ability to control over my thoughts these days. My mind races non-stop between the profound, the mundane, the insane, the profane, you name it. I wonder if it is age or exhaustion. If it's age, I'm in some serious trouble at 36. Continuing down this path will lead to unthinkable anxiety and a extended stay in the mental hospital. I'm open to suggestions...

Anxiety seems to be the buzzword with women in my stage of life. I can only think of a couple women that I know that do not struggle with this -- most women that I know have been medicated at some point in the past five years due to this problem (that includes me about 10 months after my last baby was born). I thought at the time that it must be our post-modern, information crazed society that is to blame. Then, I reflected on characters in the fantastic Russian and English novels that I love -- there were always worn out, anxious mothers that had all but disappeared from all good society. So, nothing new is under the sun.

What to do, though? I popped my little pills for a couple months, but that was not going to be a long term solution (please know I understand it IS so needed for some -- if you could spend a day in my head, you would understand why I would never judge another soul). Now, some days are fine, but I am very ready for that wine with my dinner. Some days, a couple glasses fail to do the trick, and I'm wondering if my liver would be better off if I'd stayed on the pills.

This all seems crazy to me because I have a nice little life. We do not have extra money by any means, but I'm not wondering if I can put food on the table or keep the cable turned on. My husband is faithful. My kids are freakin' amazing, as are my friends -- the few that I can handle. I have the typical ego problem with being a stay at home Mom, but that is a bunch off B.S. because I know I'm smart and could figure out the working world in about 2 days if I had to. So, I have no excuses and yet this craziness persists.

This really does not have a point. I offer no solutions. If you ever come across this and struggle in the same way, I only hope you realize you are not alone.

Mother and Wife

2008-04-24T18:02:00.000-07:00

Yes, motherhood in the early years is a challenge, to be sure. Pregnancies, nursing, lack of sleep, sick kids, loss of identity, and the like take their toll. We are often so busy "dealing" that we don't have much time or energy to see the impact on our marriages. Instinctively as women we jump in and take care of child rearing business. As unfair and unmodern as this might seem, men (in general) are not equipped with the same parenting instincts. This sudden increase in responsibility often collides with a career and identity crisis that hits close to 40. I have witnessed many a time that this can be too much to handle -- even for some amazing men.

Sadly, I offer no answers. But, I do say -- pay attention. If you are close to a woman who is too tired to pay attention, pay attention for her. Encourage her and her man. Get behind them in any way possible during this vulnerable time. The payoff could last a lifetime. As a woman, remember that investing in your marriage (having sex, for example) is a lifelong gift to your children. Let them watch the extra 30 minutes of television, or eat chicken nuggets or that 3rd happy meal of the week, or whatever, and spend a moment thinking about your husband. Yes, we have to suck it up and deal with all the crap. Yes, our job is 24/7. Sometimes being a woman kind of sucks, but no one has ever changed the general rules -- not really. So, we've gotta acknowledge the truth. If we don't pay attention, he will slowly slip away. Sometimes, even if we do pay attention and do all the right things, that will still happen. What can we do but try?

Slippery Times

2008-04-23T19:43:00.000-07:00

Life is as slippery as that slimy bar of Dial in the shower. It is lousy much of the time; pregnancies, parenthood, and age make it more complicated. Marriage is fragile. When it works, it is more precious than anything in the world. When it doesn't, the carnage can be shocking -- especially when kids are involved. Why are we crazy enough to take the risk? One thing for sure -- trouble has come to some of the most amazing and loving people I know. Not a one of us is beyond it. Don't ever deceive yourself into thinking you could not possibly walk in such uncomfortable shoes. Facing the truth might just make you a little more thankful and a little less bitter.