Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Jenea's exciting revelation
Making supper today my 3 1/2 year old suddenly yells from the bathroom - Moooooooom!!!!! My breasts are growing!!!
Monday, November 12, 2007
stay-at-home mom mistaken for homeless person
Seriously, has this ever happened to any of you? Have you ever run out of deodorant and actually just not bothered to buy any more? Today as I'm reaching up to put away the dishes I realize - I smell. I can actually smell myself. Gross! How did I get to this place where running out of deodorant is no longer condidered a state of personal emergency?
Next time you're talking to a young SAHM, compassionately listening, and she says (hypothetically) "why do we need to wear makeup everyday? who sees us anyway? maybe it's no big deal."; you need to immediately take her by the arm (forcefully), sit her down and tell her this story.
This is a path you do not want to go down. Listen to me!! First you're looking a bit pale, and the next thing you know people are moving to the back of the bus when you take your seat! Just say no, women (and possibly men as well). It sounds good - no putting your make-up on while driving, no poking mascara wands in your eye as your 2 year old repeatedly tries to jump on your back, no going to Safeway with a 4 year hootchie who's more made-up than you are! But it leads to ruin. Next go the daily showers. You think - how dirty can I get in a day? My kids only bathe a couple times a week and they seem clean enough. Then you're taking the kids to school (and yes, actually entering the building) with 2 day old bedhead because you convince yourself that you are going to the gym after you drop them off so why shower twice? And, ultimately, you no longer bother to make an extra trip to the grocery store for personal hygiene products. For milk you leave the house before dawn if there's not enough to cover 3 bowls of porridge, but if you are haggard, unwashed, and ultimately - bra-less.... - pardon? me? no, I don't need anything. I'm fine. Really.
Oh, the horror. The horror.
Next time you're talking to a young SAHM, compassionately listening, and she says (hypothetically) "why do we need to wear makeup everyday? who sees us anyway? maybe it's no big deal."; you need to immediately take her by the arm (forcefully), sit her down and tell her this story.
This is a path you do not want to go down. Listen to me!! First you're looking a bit pale, and the next thing you know people are moving to the back of the bus when you take your seat! Just say no, women (and possibly men as well). It sounds good - no putting your make-up on while driving, no poking mascara wands in your eye as your 2 year old repeatedly tries to jump on your back, no going to Safeway with a 4 year hootchie who's more made-up than you are! But it leads to ruin. Next go the daily showers. You think - how dirty can I get in a day? My kids only bathe a couple times a week and they seem clean enough. Then you're taking the kids to school (and yes, actually entering the building) with 2 day old bedhead because you convince yourself that you are going to the gym after you drop them off so why shower twice? And, ultimately, you no longer bother to make an extra trip to the grocery store for personal hygiene products. For milk you leave the house before dawn if there's not enough to cover 3 bowls of porridge, but if you are haggard, unwashed, and ultimately - bra-less.... - pardon? me? no, I don't need anything. I'm fine. Really.
Oh, the horror. The horror.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
men
does the ego ever die down? with age, does the 2year-old mentality of being the actual centre of the universe get grown past? and, at the heart of today's tirade, will they ever notice a slight double-standard in the my-life-should-be-whatever-I-feel-called-to-and- find-fulfilling-and-asserting-to-my-god-given-place-as-a-man; and your-life-should-be-exactly-what-it-is? Cause, really, what more would you want in life than to clean my underwear and my house and my kids and the million other tasks that consume the best of your time and energy.
Okay, so I'm stuffing laundry (about 3 loads worth) into a basket. Laundry and me, we aren't really on speaking terms anymore. I ignore it whenever possible and shove it into whatever machine is available when it becomes absolutely necessary. I then proceed to dump it into whatever laundry receptacle (aka,chair) is available. When necessary I go downstairs and retrieve a desperately needed article. This is what laundry has degenerated to for me. I've tried the one day a week and found you can't actually do 12 loads of laundry in one day, unless you're at a laundromat. I've tried one load a day and come to the conclusion we must have somewhat more than 7 loads of laundry in a week. Don't even think of asking me why we have so much - I swear I will kill you. So as I'm stuffing this basket vowing I will not return for anything that doesn't fit in, my husband; who, incidentally, was left home for 2 hours, while I took the kiddies out, to paint the damn room in the basement that has been in renovations for almost an entire year (oh how I wish I could e-scream), returns from Cdn Tire and this and that, talking about something to do with a really good visit yada, yada, yada (truthfully, I'm not paying much attention, or maybe my rage has simply fogged out the memory of it)and he asks me "is something wrong?" Now, keep in mind, I am not mad at him at all at this point. But I am frustrated because the necessary chores of this life never end, and I say "yeah, I'm tired and my head hurts, and I haven't stopped sweating all day, and sometimes I wonder what's the point of decorating the house and planting gardens or any of the finer things of life when all there seems to be is laundry and putting away, and picking up, and feeding, and cleaning - all amidst the almost continual demands for attention from the other house inhabitants. Since when is this life? So what does my husband say as I'm trudging downstairs with my triple load of laundry? He says, and I am quoting, "I don't see what else there should be." It seems like such a small statement, but it fills my heart with rage. You don't see what else there should be.... for whom? For you? Because it doesn't seem to me that your life resembles this picture very much. So, logically, you must mean (or else are foundationally insensitive) that you don't see what else life should be... for me. yeah. this is where the screaming is happening in my head and the keys are crying out from the beating of my acrylic nails ( i got them done, I really like them, too).
I don't know what else to say, or do for that matter. As the anger ebbs I feel hurt down to my core. Why does it seem that we (I'm thinking the women, here, but maybe it's a gender-neutral thing) keep allowing ourselves to trust this person, let ourselves begin to believe that they do know us and appreciate the whole package of who we are (this feeling of being known is so fundamental to a woman - it's the basis of intimacy) only to have it all smacked down with one careless slap of presumption.
Okay, so I'm stuffing laundry (about 3 loads worth) into a basket. Laundry and me, we aren't really on speaking terms anymore. I ignore it whenever possible and shove it into whatever machine is available when it becomes absolutely necessary. I then proceed to dump it into whatever laundry receptacle (aka,chair) is available. When necessary I go downstairs and retrieve a desperately needed article. This is what laundry has degenerated to for me. I've tried the one day a week and found you can't actually do 12 loads of laundry in one day, unless you're at a laundromat. I've tried one load a day and come to the conclusion we must have somewhat more than 7 loads of laundry in a week. Don't even think of asking me why we have so much - I swear I will kill you. So as I'm stuffing this basket vowing I will not return for anything that doesn't fit in, my husband; who, incidentally, was left home for 2 hours, while I took the kiddies out, to paint the damn room in the basement that has been in renovations for almost an entire year (oh how I wish I could e-scream), returns from Cdn Tire and this and that, talking about something to do with a really good visit yada, yada, yada (truthfully, I'm not paying much attention, or maybe my rage has simply fogged out the memory of it)and he asks me "is something wrong?" Now, keep in mind, I am not mad at him at all at this point. But I am frustrated because the necessary chores of this life never end, and I say "yeah, I'm tired and my head hurts, and I haven't stopped sweating all day, and sometimes I wonder what's the point of decorating the house and planting gardens or any of the finer things of life when all there seems to be is laundry and putting away, and picking up, and feeding, and cleaning - all amidst the almost continual demands for attention from the other house inhabitants. Since when is this life? So what does my husband say as I'm trudging downstairs with my triple load of laundry? He says, and I am quoting, "I don't see what else there should be." It seems like such a small statement, but it fills my heart with rage. You don't see what else there should be.... for whom? For you? Because it doesn't seem to me that your life resembles this picture very much. So, logically, you must mean (or else are foundationally insensitive) that you don't see what else life should be... for me. yeah. this is where the screaming is happening in my head and the keys are crying out from the beating of my acrylic nails ( i got them done, I really like them, too).
I don't know what else to say, or do for that matter. As the anger ebbs I feel hurt down to my core. Why does it seem that we (I'm thinking the women, here, but maybe it's a gender-neutral thing) keep allowing ourselves to trust this person, let ourselves begin to believe that they do know us and appreciate the whole package of who we are (this feeling of being known is so fundamental to a woman - it's the basis of intimacy) only to have it all smacked down with one careless slap of presumption.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Okay, okay, okay! Goodness. What's all the fuss people? Actually I went back and read my previous entries and quite enjoyed them. I can see why you are all whining all the time for me to get blogging. (tee heee, I crack me up) Okay, so does everyone know - i have ADD. That isn't an award for basic math achievement, that is, indeed, Attention Deficit Disorder. K? All on the same page? Good. Really I don't see how anybody could understand a word I write without knowing that. But besides that, it is and has been the thorn in my flesh digging deeper, and deeper, through layer after layer of emotional flesh until I am ready to rip open my chest cavity to be free of it. But don't worry - I'm still fightin' the good fight and all that ... whatever.
I have talked about this A LOT with friends, hubby, shrinky - but it occurred to me that I sometimes feel I can't blog because I can't possibly explain it to everyone else. But I guess I don't have to. You all can research ADD if it so interests you, this is just so you know what the heck I'm talking about if I mention something relating in passing. I am quite good at math, so it isn't so far fetched to think of possibly being misinterpreted in that way... FOCUS! Just got slap myself out of it at times.
Anyway, I am inching my way through the excruciating process of building my own external structure. It is killing me. I am dying here. I am losing my mind, falling off the razor's edge, all out of metaphors, but - heehhh? Ya know? Sometimes all I can think is - aaaaaaaaaaaarghhhh! AAARRRRRHGHGH!!!!!! Aargh. I gotta go. My computer is being really stupid and slow. My husband is calling me from downstairs though he knows I can in no way hear or interpret his words. Why does he keep talking? My littlest is trying to make the expensive four lb. highly breakable music box work. i gotta go.
I have talked about this A LOT with friends, hubby, shrinky - but it occurred to me that I sometimes feel I can't blog because I can't possibly explain it to everyone else. But I guess I don't have to. You all can research ADD if it so interests you, this is just so you know what the heck I'm talking about if I mention something relating in passing. I am quite good at math, so it isn't so far fetched to think of possibly being misinterpreted in that way... FOCUS! Just got slap myself out of it at times.
Anyway, I am inching my way through the excruciating process of building my own external structure. It is killing me. I am dying here. I am losing my mind, falling off the razor's edge, all out of metaphors, but - heehhh? Ya know? Sometimes all I can think is - aaaaaaaaaaaarghhhh! AAARRRRRHGHGH!!!!!! Aargh. I gotta go. My computer is being really stupid and slow. My husband is calling me from downstairs though he knows I can in no way hear or interpret his words. Why does he keep talking? My littlest is trying to make the expensive four lb. highly breakable music box work. i gotta go.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Luke....I am your father
So I'm in the kitchen, scraping the porridge out of the pot, and I can hear this heavy disembodied breathing, like Darth Vader. I can hear it, this is not my imagination. I actually stop scraping and listen - still there. I look over my shoulder with that "I know Darth Vader is not in my kitchen but I can still hear him" kind of look. (I know you know what that feels like - creepy) For about 2 eternal seconds I ponder the incongruity of the situation and it comes to me that the loud oxygen-mask breathing is mine. My head is so stuffed up it feels like I am under water. My ears are buffered by an inch or two of fluid, I haven't taken breath through my nostrils for so many hours that I've adapted to a Darth Vader style of breathing for the sake of survival.
My girls are playing pirates. As I finish styling my hair (wow!) and decide to apply makeup (unbelievable!!) I listen to their pirate-y type talk. Batten the hatches! Hoist the midsail! Ahoy, me hearties! I'm the flower pirate! And I'm the minty pirate! And I realize that yes, there are definite gender differences. These pirates have beaded necklaces and sequined shoes. And right now, on their pirate ship, in between commands of "Steer! Steer - away from the whales!" they are having detailed discussions of the finer nuances of color - pink, not red, green like a forest not like a frog, etc. If only I could find my camera I'd have a great scrapbook page out of this. In fact, I shall go seek it momentarily.
My girls are playing pirates. As I finish styling my hair (wow!) and decide to apply makeup (unbelievable!!) I listen to their pirate-y type talk. Batten the hatches! Hoist the midsail! Ahoy, me hearties! I'm the flower pirate! And I'm the minty pirate! And I realize that yes, there are definite gender differences. These pirates have beaded necklaces and sequined shoes. And right now, on their pirate ship, in between commands of "Steer! Steer - away from the whales!" they are having detailed discussions of the finer nuances of color - pink, not red, green like a forest not like a frog, etc. If only I could find my camera I'd have a great scrapbook page out of this. In fact, I shall go seek it momentarily.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Worship
I'm wondering how corporate worship today relates to it's original counterpoint. Why were we followers of Christ to meet together in the first place? It was to bring our individual gifts together to build each other up, thus building the church, the body of Christ.
Thoughts to pursue: the "order" of worship; style;
It no longer feels, for me, that I go to church to participate in the edification of the body of Christ. I don't go bringing my gifts for congregate encouragement. 90% of the time I don't even expect to be encouraged by the gifts of others. That isn't because others aren't using their gifts - they are and I almost always do leave feeling edified. It is because I don't go to church with that expectation. Usually I go because I'm supposed to go. You know, "Do not give up (forsake) meeting together" in Hebrews somewhere. Going to church has become a rule we have to follow instead of what it was intended to be. Even that passage in Hebrews is talking about us meeting together for mutual encouragement - because Christ has made this great sacrifice for us, because we have this access to the holy of holies, because we have this great high priest we should draw near to God. And we should do it together, because the body is stronger than the individual parts. We can strengthen each other. When did this gathering together become synonymous with Sabbath-rest. We are commanded to rest, we are promised Sabbath rest (Hebrews 3-ish). Does it ever say this rest and the gathering together are the same thing? I'm almost inclined to think the Sabbath rest more instrospective, more conducive to quiet and solitude. Where we rest in God's presence. Is corporate worship, then, to be filled with times of reflection and silence? Is it for the individual to sit at the feet of God and listen? Couldn't we do that at home? Shouldn't we? Or is corporate worship a time to worship together, praise together, share joys and sorrows, share teaching and prophecies, remind each other of God's promises and His commands, work together to build and strengthen this body we are all part of? If it is the latter, then many of our discussions over worship "styles" and congregational "needs" would be affected. Is the church leadership there to provide an opportunity for Sabbath rest to the other members? Or do we all come as fellow believers bringing our gifts to bless each other? Leadership provides administrative support, pastoral support, connection, vision among many other things. Leadership provides this in order to nurture the gathering, to give it organization and direction. We are selling our church leaders short if we believe they are only there to give us our Sunday fix. Individually we need to seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness and we need to enter into Sabbath rest, so that when we meet together we can bring our anointed gifts to the mutual blessing and encouragement of our congregation.
Thoughts to pursue: the "order" of worship; style;
It no longer feels, for me, that I go to church to participate in the edification of the body of Christ. I don't go bringing my gifts for congregate encouragement. 90% of the time I don't even expect to be encouraged by the gifts of others. That isn't because others aren't using their gifts - they are and I almost always do leave feeling edified. It is because I don't go to church with that expectation. Usually I go because I'm supposed to go. You know, "Do not give up (forsake) meeting together" in Hebrews somewhere. Going to church has become a rule we have to follow instead of what it was intended to be. Even that passage in Hebrews is talking about us meeting together for mutual encouragement - because Christ has made this great sacrifice for us, because we have this access to the holy of holies, because we have this great high priest we should draw near to God. And we should do it together, because the body is stronger than the individual parts. We can strengthen each other. When did this gathering together become synonymous with Sabbath-rest. We are commanded to rest, we are promised Sabbath rest (Hebrews 3-ish). Does it ever say this rest and the gathering together are the same thing? I'm almost inclined to think the Sabbath rest more instrospective, more conducive to quiet and solitude. Where we rest in God's presence. Is corporate worship, then, to be filled with times of reflection and silence? Is it for the individual to sit at the feet of God and listen? Couldn't we do that at home? Shouldn't we? Or is corporate worship a time to worship together, praise together, share joys and sorrows, share teaching and prophecies, remind each other of God's promises and His commands, work together to build and strengthen this body we are all part of? If it is the latter, then many of our discussions over worship "styles" and congregational "needs" would be affected. Is the church leadership there to provide an opportunity for Sabbath rest to the other members? Or do we all come as fellow believers bringing our gifts to bless each other? Leadership provides administrative support, pastoral support, connection, vision among many other things. Leadership provides this in order to nurture the gathering, to give it organization and direction. We are selling our church leaders short if we believe they are only there to give us our Sunday fix. Individually we need to seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness and we need to enter into Sabbath rest, so that when we meet together we can bring our anointed gifts to the mutual blessing and encouragement of our congregation.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Life from the Pit
Okay, obviously I'm feeling pretty good today. Good enough to poke fun at the pretty much un-funniest thing in my lifetime of experience. Believe me it has been a lifetime.
So, let's talk about depression. Why? Because I want to. I'm interested in knowing how others live with this giant gorilla on their back. It doesn't seem to matter how much I rest, destress, talk, read, ignore, research - I know that when the curtain falls again it'll all be gone. I may remember some of it, but I won't be able to use any of it. It all seems for nothing. Unless it's for the next good day. Can you build on something 1 day/month? 6 days/year? Am I completely hopeless to be hoping, today, that I'm making headway in my battle with chocolate, in my desire to add exercise into my life regularly, in my commitment to eat consciously. To think, maybe I'm getting it again and I'll be able to keep my head, at least, out of the hole for awhile? Will tomorrow be as black as last week? Will it be as bright as today? Do I need to control this? Do I feel I need to control my mood, which governs (usually) my choices and my productivity. I haven't really been able to say - to hell with productivity. Who cares what I accomplish, I'm just going to live. Quote, "Life is what you make it; always has been, always will be." Grandma Moses. So what is life if I'm not making anything? Not making the bed, not making supper, not making it to appointments, not making commitments, not potty training my almost 3 year old, not helping my kindergartner learn to write lower case letters! Nothing. Nothing. Just nothing. How do you do nothing? How is that okay? I don't know.
So, let's talk about depression. Why? Because I want to. I'm interested in knowing how others live with this giant gorilla on their back. It doesn't seem to matter how much I rest, destress, talk, read, ignore, research - I know that when the curtain falls again it'll all be gone. I may remember some of it, but I won't be able to use any of it. It all seems for nothing. Unless it's for the next good day. Can you build on something 1 day/month? 6 days/year? Am I completely hopeless to be hoping, today, that I'm making headway in my battle with chocolate, in my desire to add exercise into my life regularly, in my commitment to eat consciously. To think, maybe I'm getting it again and I'll be able to keep my head, at least, out of the hole for awhile? Will tomorrow be as black as last week? Will it be as bright as today? Do I need to control this? Do I feel I need to control my mood, which governs (usually) my choices and my productivity. I haven't really been able to say - to hell with productivity. Who cares what I accomplish, I'm just going to live. Quote, "Life is what you make it; always has been, always will be." Grandma Moses. So what is life if I'm not making anything? Not making the bed, not making supper, not making it to appointments, not making commitments, not potty training my almost 3 year old, not helping my kindergartner learn to write lower case letters! Nothing. Nothing. Just nothing. How do you do nothing? How is that okay? I don't know.
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