I'm pretty sure that when God rained down "manna" from heaven for the Israelites in the desert, what they really got was feta cheese. I believe it because I know for certain that man can indeed live by cheese alone, but even God said you can't live by bread alone.
Oh, I kid. Don't get all excommunicatin' on me.
It was really bread. Bread that had been made completely out of feta cheese. I mean, consider, it was sent from Heaven. Where else would feta cheese come from?
I really do not know that anything has ever been more exciting than diagramming sentences. —Gertrude Stein
26 February 2008
25 February 2008
24 February 2008
I'm ready to bust a move.
When I was in my early twenties- before kids, when we were first married, I felt this very strong resistance to getting older. It seemed like the worst thing that could ever happen to a person was to be no longer 20-something. How merciless and hateful life could be - to strip away the years that start with 2. I wanted to be 20-something forever. I never wanted to cross over. I dreaded being out of my twenties, because bad things happened after thirty. Things like being referred to as an "older woman". I was quite certain that you'd never turn another head as long as you lived, and any attention you got would only be mercy flirts. Turning 30 seemed worse than gaining 20 lbs. And as fate would have it I did that long before thirty anyway. A woman over 30 was to me, a woman who'd lost "it", and her best years were far behind her. She wore mama jeans and had a long, flat butt.
Now I can't wait to turn 30. I'm 28, and I feel stuck between worlds. And I don't want to go back, like I thought I would. I'd much rather spring forward and get this season behind me once and for all. I'm ready to be 30. I'm ready to be beyond this place. There's so much searching, wrestling and questioning. It's very tiresome. And it makes me feel all twitchy.
So what is it about the 30s that have bewitched me now? And no, just so we're all clear on this, it's not the mama jeans. Or the long butt. Those things are still unsavory.
It's the desire for less drama, less fretting, a greater understanding of what it means to bring my kids up, a settled heart that God is who He says He is, that He is indeed good, and that He is in control. I see a different level of ease in my older friends. They seem more easy with themselves, gentler with other people. More okay with just being who they are. And for me, getting there is a process. I hate a process. For the record. I'm having to work out a lot of junk "with fear and trembling". And processing takes time. Which I why I hate it. I keep thinking that by the time I actually turn 30, enough time will have passed that I'll have worked out some kinks. You know, undesirables. I don't know how to be happy with myself just the way I am. I feel like I'm too insecure and unsure to be happy this way. How can so unsettled a person be content?
I think if I had to choose one word to describe women over 30, I'd have to say that generally, y'all seem so much more settled. I see great benefits that come with age. Age mellows people. And I've grown tired of being so tense, and anxious, and troubled. I wish I had inherited the hippie gene. But my people are not hippies. When God handed out the hippie gene my people were off somewhere frettin' and wringing their hands. How I would love to just be breezy. To really enjoy all of life without getting twisted into knots. To suck the marrow out of life. I'm not there, but it's what I'm aiming for. For those of us without the hippie gene, we just have to wait & let time (and God) work some magic on us.
So that's how I got here - where the 30s look so appealing. And farther off than I'd like them to be.
And that's something I never thought I'd ever say.
Now I can't wait to turn 30. I'm 28, and I feel stuck between worlds. And I don't want to go back, like I thought I would. I'd much rather spring forward and get this season behind me once and for all. I'm ready to be 30. I'm ready to be beyond this place. There's so much searching, wrestling and questioning. It's very tiresome. And it makes me feel all twitchy.
So what is it about the 30s that have bewitched me now? And no, just so we're all clear on this, it's not the mama jeans. Or the long butt. Those things are still unsavory.
It's the desire for less drama, less fretting, a greater understanding of what it means to bring my kids up, a settled heart that God is who He says He is, that He is indeed good, and that He is in control. I see a different level of ease in my older friends. They seem more easy with themselves, gentler with other people. More okay with just being who they are. And for me, getting there is a process. I hate a process. For the record. I'm having to work out a lot of junk "with fear and trembling". And processing takes time. Which I why I hate it. I keep thinking that by the time I actually turn 30, enough time will have passed that I'll have worked out some kinks. You know, undesirables. I don't know how to be happy with myself just the way I am. I feel like I'm too insecure and unsure to be happy this way. How can so unsettled a person be content?
I think if I had to choose one word to describe women over 30, I'd have to say that generally, y'all seem so much more settled. I see great benefits that come with age. Age mellows people. And I've grown tired of being so tense, and anxious, and troubled. I wish I had inherited the hippie gene. But my people are not hippies. When God handed out the hippie gene my people were off somewhere frettin' and wringing their hands. How I would love to just be breezy. To really enjoy all of life without getting twisted into knots. To suck the marrow out of life. I'm not there, but it's what I'm aiming for. For those of us without the hippie gene, we just have to wait & let time (and God) work some magic on us.
So that's how I got here - where the 30s look so appealing. And farther off than I'd like them to be.
And that's something I never thought I'd ever say.
22 February 2008
My Coveted Fashion Pictu-mentary
If all my wardrobe dreams came true (in other words, if I found a large unmarked bag of large bills or maybe some gold bricks - preferably without a ransom note) this is what I'd buy: Yes, I'd go shopping. Not to the Police Dept. to return said cash. Shopping. A-hem.
Where was I?
Oh yes, what would I spend all of the filthy cash on....
1. A trench coat. We are big Apprentice people here, and I saw Ivanka wearing a silvery-gray one like this recently. It looked great on her, and from that moment on, I've needed one. This one would be nice. Plus it's on sale at Target for $20. That's my kind of bargain. But what do I care? I just found a ton o' cash!
2. Lots of jackets and sweaters. I'm becoming more and more obsessed with outerwear. I used to hate to shop for winter clothes because we liveon the equator in S. Louisiana and winter only lasts a few hours here. But I have really fallen for the look of a jacket/sweater coat/cardigan. They've become my favorite clothing category. I could easily spend all of my husband's money on fun ones like these:
The red one speeds up my heart. :)
I also like this, and this.
3. Dark trouser jeans. They look flattering on EVERYBODY. I keep putting off buying a pair though. I want to be thinner before I make the investment as I like to wear my clothes until they dry-rot, so it's imperative that they fit well - for a looong time. Buying a pair of jeans is a serious commitment people. I like this pair.
4. New tops that aren't so casual. I'm a homemaker, which means I clean up a bunch of messes all day, but I really get tired of feeling like a frump-a-dump. So I'd like some new dress-up clothes. These would make me feel sassy:
***Note: some of these are pictured as dresses. Rest assured they would be worn as shirts on this model. ;)
5. Shoes. So stinkin' cute, these ones are:
I understand that these all look like basically the same shoe. I'm totally okay with that. Cuteness matters more than sameness. And really, color. How could I choose between that delicious green and that rosy rose?
Oh and I love these boots. Big big. I've been on the lookout for a pair of gray boots. These would be my best good friends. If I could walk in them.
As I look at these pictures all lined up on one page it is very clear to me that I am a pattern chicken. It is also quite clear that I'm drawn in by similar detail - like shimmery stuff, and ruffly stuff. That, and yellow & gray.
I find myself at a fashion crossroads. I'm 28. Almost out of the 20-somethings and into the 30-somethings (which I'm so ready for - I think I'll post on that soon). I'm ready for a look upgrade. A delicate balance of cute and funky. Classy funky.
I look in my closet now though, and most of my threads don't fit that mold. They're my "bridge clothes". What I wear in the meantime, while I update my style, one piece at a time.
I understand how terribly boring this post is. If you're still here, bless your heart. :) Now you know me a little bit better. And have squandered precious minutes of your life reading the most boring thing ever written. :)
Happy Sunday!
Where was I?
Oh yes, what would I spend all of the filthy cash on....
1. A trench coat. We are big Apprentice people here, and I saw Ivanka wearing a silvery-gray one like this recently. It looked great on her, and from that moment on, I've needed one. This one would be nice. Plus it's on sale at Target for $20. That's my kind of bargain. But what do I care? I just found a ton o' cash!
2. Lots of jackets and sweaters. I'm becoming more and more obsessed with outerwear. I used to hate to shop for winter clothes because we live
The red one speeds up my heart. :)
I also like this, and this.
3. Dark trouser jeans. They look flattering on EVERYBODY. I keep putting off buying a pair though. I want to be thinner before I make the investment as I like to wear my clothes until they dry-rot, so it's imperative that they fit well - for a looong time. Buying a pair of jeans is a serious commitment people. I like this pair.
4. New tops that aren't so casual. I'm a homemaker, which means I clean up a bunch of messes all day, but I really get tired of feeling like a frump-a-dump. So I'd like some new dress-up clothes. These would make me feel sassy:
***Note: some of these are pictured as dresses. Rest assured they would be worn as shirts on this model. ;)
5. Shoes. So stinkin' cute, these ones are:
I understand that these all look like basically the same shoe. I'm totally okay with that. Cuteness matters more than sameness. And really, color. How could I choose between that delicious green and that rosy rose?
Oh and I love these boots. Big big. I've been on the lookout for a pair of gray boots. These would be my best good friends. If I could walk in them.
As I look at these pictures all lined up on one page it is very clear to me that I am a pattern chicken. It is also quite clear that I'm drawn in by similar detail - like shimmery stuff, and ruffly stuff. That, and yellow & gray.
I find myself at a fashion crossroads. I'm 28. Almost out of the 20-somethings and into the 30-somethings (which I'm so ready for - I think I'll post on that soon). I'm ready for a look upgrade. A delicate balance of cute and funky. Classy funky.
I look in my closet now though, and most of my threads don't fit that mold. They're my "bridge clothes". What I wear in the meantime, while I update my style, one piece at a time.
I understand how terribly boring this post is. If you're still here, bless your heart. :) Now you know me a little bit better. And have squandered precious minutes of your life reading the most boring thing ever written. :)
Happy Sunday!
May I have a word?
I wish I'd thought this out better before I got started. If it wasn't so much trouble, I'd probably change it now, but I think it's way too much trouble, and much too late. Drat.
Double drat.
I'm talking about the name of my blog. You know, I've been asked the question before, if I could have a superpower what would it be? I used to think I'd want to be invisible, but I've done that, and it's overrated. So what then? Well, after much thought and deliberation, or maybe it was just after seeing one episode, I've decided that I want to be WordGirl. And if I didn't already have a blog I would totally name it Word Girl. Because that's ME! (at heart anyway)
Am I not the girl that won the Spelling Bee in the 4th Grade!? I even got a trophy, with a gold bee. Very classy. And then I went onto regionals (only to be crushed in round 1 by the dumb judge who mispronounced reservoir, making it sound like reservore. Which is how I spelled it. And how was I to know it was pronounced reserVOIR!? I was in the 4th Grade. How could I know anything about a receptacle or chamber for holding a liquid or fluid.) Dumb judge. I could've been somebody! I could've been WordGirl! Because what's important to a word girl?... "It's her love of vocabulary that helps WordGirl save the day in her never-ending battle for truth, justice and use of the right word". I am ALL ABOUT THAT! That is ME.
For now I'll just try to be content with watching her on PBS and getting my kids to fall in love with her, too. So that I don't have to miss an episode. Because man, I love me some WordGirl.
But if one day I can figure out how to make it happen, I will make the blogosphere switch.
And if it's not too much to ask, could you just call me that from now on? I'll be answering to WordGirl from here on out. In case anybody wants to know.
Signing off,
WordGirl
Con-vic-she-own
You love Jesus only as much as the person you love the least.
Ow. That stings a little.
Ow. That stings a little.
21 February 2008
Love Letters from God
I love today! If you've been here long enough you know that I have a delicious husband who gave me the best Christmas gift ever. Well, today was my last day with my trainer. And it was also the day to assess "the damage" - you know, re-weigh, re-measure, re-calculate, re-visit. And GUESS WHAT!? I lost 6 1/2 inches!!! In 6 weeks. Now that is reason to happy dance! Not only that (as if that's not enough), I also lost 6 lbs. of fat. Fat. As in, lard. Six pounds of poundiferousness.
Now here's the best part. Getting this package as a Christmas gift was huge for us. We don't have an extravagant income, although my husband works tirelessly to provide for our family, and for me to stay home with our kids. I feel very blessed in that regard. But here we are, at the end of my 6weeks, and we just don't have enough extra coin to pay gym membership fees. I've thought and fretted about this, and prayed a little too.
What to do. What to do!
So I talked to the owner today and I am going to work part time in the nursery to pay for my membership! *squeals of delight* I know!!
THAT is why this is my love letter from God today. THAT is what brought tears to my happy eyes this morning, and made my heart feel full of thank you's to God.
It is a GREAT day.
Now here's the best part. Getting this package as a Christmas gift was huge for us. We don't have an extravagant income, although my husband works tirelessly to provide for our family, and for me to stay home with our kids. I feel very blessed in that regard. But here we are, at the end of my 6weeks, and we just don't have enough extra coin to pay gym membership fees. I've thought and fretted about this, and prayed a little too.
What to do. What to do!
So I talked to the owner today and I am going to work part time in the nursery to pay for my membership! *squeals of delight* I know!!
THAT is why this is my love letter from God today. THAT is what brought tears to my happy eyes this morning, and made my heart feel full of thank you's to God.
It is a GREAT day.
17 February 2008
Small objects that make me smile real big
I don't recall how, or where, but I stumbled across the most delicious site that made me so insanely giddy I could hardly stand it. It's called The Small Object, and look!! Just look at all of the cuteness!
A collection of these Celebration Candle Kids would make me so happy sitting on my birthday cake, or cupcakes. Why? Because they're delightful. That's why.
I love, lovelovelove, nesting dolls. I think they're WONDERFUL. These are tiny note papers. I think I'm in love. Oh sweet nesting dolls, will you be my Valentine?
And aren't these the most darling needle cases you've ever seen? They make me want to sew. Or at least organize my notions.
Especially the needles.
And look! This is a stamp set. An Official Mail Correspondence stamp set. Complete with carrier pigeon. And I heart this so big. I love to write letters. I am a not-even-about-to-recover paper addict. And I like it. How happy would you be to receive a letter stamped with this??? I cannot begin to tell you how happy that would make me.
And if your heart can stand the excitement... More stamps! I know!! Is there anything more happy than a set of happy Little Woodland Pals stamps! No indeed. Except maybe the Nesting Dolls stamp set. Yes. They have that too.
Now you know what to get me for my birthday. Or any other major holiday, like, say, next Tuesday. It's Buy Your Friend a Stamp Set Day.
A collection of these Celebration Candle Kids would make me so happy sitting on my birthday cake, or cupcakes. Why? Because they're delightful. That's why.
I love, lovelovelove, nesting dolls. I think they're WONDERFUL. These are tiny note papers. I think I'm in love. Oh sweet nesting dolls, will you be my Valentine?
And aren't these the most darling needle cases you've ever seen? They make me want to sew. Or at least organize my notions.
Especially the needles.
And look! This is a stamp set. An Official Mail Correspondence stamp set. Complete with carrier pigeon. And I heart this so big. I love to write letters. I am a not-even-about-to-recover paper addict. And I like it. How happy would you be to receive a letter stamped with this??? I cannot begin to tell you how happy that would make me.
And if your heart can stand the excitement... More stamps! I know!! Is there anything more happy than a set of happy Little Woodland Pals stamps! No indeed. Except maybe the Nesting Dolls stamp set. Yes. They have that too.
Now you know what to get me for my birthday. Or any other major holiday, like, say, next Tuesday. It's Buy Your Friend a Stamp Set Day.
My how time flies... and drags.
Has it really only been 9 days? Because I swear it feels longer than that. It feels like at least a week and 3 days.
And several hours.
I missed y'all! And you know, I've gotten so much sweet feedback from some of you that it made it even harder to stay away. As much as I'd like to break away and spend some good face-to-face time with my friends more often, we're all in busy seasons of life and getting together is HARD. We sometimes go weeks, and so, this has been really good for me. Therapeutic in a way because your comments build my confidence. Y'all have encouraged me, challenged me, and even in some ways, discipled me. It's been really good.
This past week (9 days. Whatever.) has been so busy I've had nary a minute to get on anyway, much as I wanted to. I've cleaned and cooked and read - and still found at the end of the day so much more to do! It's been a satisfying week for me though. I've done some of those things I've really wanted to do, and it feels good.
You may be a bit bumfuzzled about what I'm doin' here at all, considering my last post. Well, my darling husband and I sat down a few days ago and talked about blogging, and how much I missed it (SO MUCH), and did he think there might be a way for me to still do it, just not you know, so much, and not leave my family feeling ignored. We wracked our wigs trying to find a solution we could all be happy with, and then in his great wisdom he said, what if you just blogged on the weekends? (I was thinking maybe if we put our minds together we could think of a way for me to do it every day, but even we're not that smart.) So I said okay. And I smiled. Because it made me happy.
So here's the deal: Weekends only, unless/until I am truly satisfied with the status of everything else. Translation: I cannot have a pile of ironing I've been meaning to get to for a week and a half or three, and I can't neglect the leaning tower ofPiza papers (that need to make their home in the filing cabinet). You know. Stuff like that. And other things too, like, what's for dinner, and have I played with my little dumplins yet today? Have I spent any time in their world? Have I focused my mind on God yet today? Bottom line, am I truly okay with the way the rest of my life is, and if the answer is no, than there's really no time for blogging.
Except on the weekends. The rule is more stretchy on the weekends.
So yay. I'm back! And I'm terrible happy 'bout it.
And several hours.
I missed y'all! And you know, I've gotten so much sweet feedback from some of you that it made it even harder to stay away. As much as I'd like to break away and spend some good face-to-face time with my friends more often, we're all in busy seasons of life and getting together is HARD. We sometimes go weeks, and so, this has been really good for me. Therapeutic in a way because your comments build my confidence. Y'all have encouraged me, challenged me, and even in some ways, discipled me. It's been really good.
This past week (9 days. Whatever.) has been so busy I've had nary a minute to get on anyway, much as I wanted to. I've cleaned and cooked and read - and still found at the end of the day so much more to do! It's been a satisfying week for me though. I've done some of those things I've really wanted to do, and it feels good.
You may be a bit bumfuzzled about what I'm doin' here at all, considering my last post. Well, my darling husband and I sat down a few days ago and talked about blogging, and how much I missed it (SO MUCH), and did he think there might be a way for me to still do it, just not you know, so much, and not leave my family feeling ignored. We wracked our wigs trying to find a solution we could all be happy with, and then in his great wisdom he said, what if you just blogged on the weekends? (I was thinking maybe if we put our minds together we could think of a way for me to do it every day, but even we're not that smart.) So I said okay. And I smiled. Because it made me happy.
So here's the deal: Weekends only, unless/until I am truly satisfied with the status of everything else. Translation: I cannot have a pile of ironing I've been meaning to get to for a week and a half or three, and I can't neglect the leaning tower of
Except on the weekends. The rule is more stretchy on the weekends.
So yay. I'm back! And I'm terrible happy 'bout it.
09 February 2008
...to do what REALLY matters for our family.
Late last night I was reading up on some of my favorite blogs, and I went to In the Midst of It and read this post by Sarah. Every time I woke up during the night I was thinking about this post, and how I should consider that for myself. And the fact that I feel a strong internal resistance is just proof of the fact that I need to pull back. The computer is fun, but I spend too much time here to acheive what I really want for my life, for my family.
So I, too, am taking a break. I love the internet. Maybe too much. I am so easily sucked in by it - checking email, myspace, facebook, blogs - my own and others. So much of my thought life is wrapped up in what happens here, at this desk, on this computer. So I'm leaving it alone for a while - posting on my blog, constantly checking myspace and facebook. I'll be limiting email and using my phone to actually talk to people instead.
I have a family I've neglected - a husband and 3 young children that deserve to be loved well. I waste alot of valuable time sitting here, doing this. I don't want to look back over my life and see these years, and regret the way I spent them. I want to be a better homemaker, a better mama, and a better wife. Like Sarah, I want to be sucked in by making breakfast and dinner for my family and by reading stories to my children. And I want to get better at knitting. I want to spend the evenings with my husband. Not my blog. I want to embroider and sew, and make spaghetti and meatballs with PlayDoh with my children while they still want me to play with them.
I want to take care of my family.
PS - Sincerely, thank you to all of you have offered your encouragement and support to me here. It's touched my heart. I'm glad to have "met" you and I am grateful for your reaching out to me.
So I, too, am taking a break. I love the internet. Maybe too much. I am so easily sucked in by it - checking email, myspace, facebook, blogs - my own and others. So much of my thought life is wrapped up in what happens here, at this desk, on this computer. So I'm leaving it alone for a while - posting on my blog, constantly checking myspace and facebook. I'll be limiting email and using my phone to actually talk to people instead.
I have a family I've neglected - a husband and 3 young children that deserve to be loved well. I waste alot of valuable time sitting here, doing this. I don't want to look back over my life and see these years, and regret the way I spent them. I want to be a better homemaker, a better mama, and a better wife. Like Sarah, I want to be sucked in by making breakfast and dinner for my family and by reading stories to my children. And I want to get better at knitting. I want to spend the evenings with my husband. Not my blog. I want to embroider and sew, and make spaghetti and meatballs with PlayDoh with my children while they still want me to play with them.
I want to take care of my family.
PS - Sincerely, thank you to all of you have offered your encouragement and support to me here. It's touched my heart. I'm glad to have "met" you and I am grateful for your reaching out to me.
08 February 2008
The Discipline of Dejection
I woke up this morning and felt gently compelled to read My Utmost for His Highest, so I read the reading for today, and then I looked over to the opposite page at yesterday's reading and saw this verse at the top . It gripped me and I immediately saw myself. How many times have I said, aloud or in my heart, but I trusted... So I read on, and this is what it said---
(Things that are in bold or italics are my own added emphasis)
But we trusted... and beside all this, today is the third day... Luke 24:21
"Every fact that the disciples states was right, but the inferences they drew from those facts were wrong. Anything that savours of dejection spiritually is always wrong. If depression and oppression visit me, I am to blame; God is not, nor is anyone else. Dejection springs from one of two sources -- I have either satisfied a lust or I have not. Lust means --I must have it at once. (Wow! That's revelation!) Spiritual lust makes me demand an answer from God, instead of seeking God Who gives the answer. What have I been trusting God would do? And today -- the immediate present - is the third day, and He has not done it; therefore I imagine I am justified in being dejected and in blaming God. Whenever the insistence is on the point that God answers prayer, we are off the track. The meaning of prayer is that we get hold of God, not of the answer. It is impossible to be well physically and to be dejected. Dejection is a sign of sickness, and the same thing is true spiritually. (Ouch) Dejection spiritually is wrong, and we are always to blame for it.
We look for visions from heaven, for earthquakes and thunders of God's power (the fact that we are dejected proves that we do), and we never dream that all the time God is in the commonplace things and people around us. If we will do the duty that lies nearest, we shall see Him. One of the most amazing revelations of God comes when we learn that it is in the commonplace things that the Deity of Jesus Christ is realized."
I've recognized for a while (since I read Inside Out, aka The Best Book Ever Written) that I have a demanding spirit towards God. I needed to read this today because dejection has been such a part of my daily spiritual life, and has held me back from God, in a misguided effort at self-protection, and threatened to keep me in bondage. I'm shaking right now as I type this because I get it. God's not to blame. I am. And I can live with that, because it doesn't feel unfair. And that's fixable. It's no longer me vs. God. God has righted my thoughts, and He is now back on my side.
And the fact that I read this now, even though it was yesterday's reading, is my love letter from God today.
I love it when He freaks me out like this! :)
(Things that are in bold or italics are my own added emphasis)
But we trusted... and beside all this, today is the third day... Luke 24:21
"Every fact that the disciples states was right, but the inferences they drew from those facts were wrong. Anything that savours of dejection spiritually is always wrong. If depression and oppression visit me, I am to blame; God is not, nor is anyone else. Dejection springs from one of two sources -- I have either satisfied a lust or I have not. Lust means --I must have it at once. (Wow! That's revelation!) Spiritual lust makes me demand an answer from God, instead of seeking God Who gives the answer. What have I been trusting God would do? And today -- the immediate present - is the third day, and He has not done it; therefore I imagine I am justified in being dejected and in blaming God. Whenever the insistence is on the point that God answers prayer, we are off the track. The meaning of prayer is that we get hold of God, not of the answer. It is impossible to be well physically and to be dejected. Dejection is a sign of sickness, and the same thing is true spiritually. (Ouch) Dejection spiritually is wrong, and we are always to blame for it.
We look for visions from heaven, for earthquakes and thunders of God's power (the fact that we are dejected proves that we do), and we never dream that all the time God is in the commonplace things and people around us. If we will do the duty that lies nearest, we shall see Him. One of the most amazing revelations of God comes when we learn that it is in the commonplace things that the Deity of Jesus Christ is realized."
I've recognized for a while (since I read Inside Out, aka The Best Book Ever Written) that I have a demanding spirit towards God. I needed to read this today because dejection has been such a part of my daily spiritual life, and has held me back from God, in a misguided effort at self-protection, and threatened to keep me in bondage. I'm shaking right now as I type this because I get it. God's not to blame. I am. And I can live with that, because it doesn't feel unfair. And that's fixable. It's no longer me vs. God. God has righted my thoughts, and He is now back on my side.
And the fact that I read this now, even though it was yesterday's reading, is my love letter from God today.
I love it when He freaks me out like this! :)
04 February 2008
I Could Easily Be a Meteorologist
The weekend forecast was correct. Tears rained down as predicted, but alas, we're all still above water, and sleeping better already. Just call me the Weather Girl. The first night can be described in no other terms than hellish. If I were in fact a Weather Girl, I could show y'all some rad graphics. Ohhh, we were miserable. All of us. And awake. AKA, miserable. I almost cried and I may have pulled out some of my hair. I was pretty sure that I would cave, thereby undoing all of our progress, but did I mention that I've been tired? Well we made it through the night, and after all the crying was done, sweet sleep was awaiting us, and was such a delightful and welcome guest.
Saturday and Sunday were better. Much better. Each day it gets easier on all of us, and I think it makes Schmo happier too because he's much more rested. That makes everyone sweeter.
In other news, Saturday is my usual cheat day and so I eat an unholy amount of calories because I spent the week earning that. This Saturday was especially sweet because I was ripe for some emotional eating after the Friday night we had had, what with all the crying and all.
So it was McDonald's breakfast burritos to get me kicked off in the right direction, T-Rex pizza for lunch, then some magical chocolate cake (with chocolate chips in the batter! Thanks Tonja!) for a quick sugar pick-me-up around 2 or 3, and then Wendy's for supper.
My rings left creases in my fingers after church Sunday morning, undoubtedly because my innards look much like the Dead Sea. Just think of what they'd have looked like had I eaten the fried Oreo that taunted us from the menu after lunch. Uh-huh, fried Oreo. And yes, it taunted me.
It was all, you don't have the guts. You can't handle me.
And as fetching as arteriosclerosis sounds, I felt it wise to heed the sage advice of Nancy Reagan and "Just Say No". And I passed! I passed the test! I'll just go ahead and confess right now though, because it's good for the soul, my resolve was pretty flimsy so if someone else had ordered one, I would've had to have one too. Thankfully, everyone else is like, iron willed against the sugary devils, so I just rode to victory on their coat tails.
Hey. Any way I get there is fine with me.
Saturday and Sunday were better. Much better. Each day it gets easier on all of us, and I think it makes Schmo happier too because he's much more rested. That makes everyone sweeter.
In other news, Saturday is my usual cheat day and so I eat an unholy amount of calories because I spent the week earning that. This Saturday was especially sweet because I was ripe for some emotional eating after the Friday night we had had, what with all the crying and all.
So it was McDonald's breakfast burritos to get me kicked off in the right direction, T-Rex pizza for lunch, then some magical chocolate cake (with chocolate chips in the batter! Thanks Tonja!) for a quick sugar pick-me-up around 2 or 3, and then Wendy's for supper.
My rings left creases in my fingers after church Sunday morning, undoubtedly because my innards look much like the Dead Sea. Just think of what they'd have looked like had I eaten the fried Oreo that taunted us from the menu after lunch. Uh-huh, fried Oreo. And yes, it taunted me.
It was all, you don't have the guts. You can't handle me.
And as fetching as arteriosclerosis sounds, I felt it wise to heed the sage advice of Nancy Reagan and "Just Say No". And I passed! I passed the test! I'll just go ahead and confess right now though, because it's good for the soul, my resolve was pretty flimsy so if someone else had ordered one, I would've had to have one too. Thankfully, everyone else is like, iron willed against the sugary devils, so I just rode to victory on their coat tails.
Hey. Any way I get there is fine with me.
01 February 2008
Turning Over a New Leaf
There's been a whole lotta crying over here lately. Our sweet Lil' Schmo used to sleep all night. It was beautiful. And then all sorts of evils started changing that, and stole our nights from us like a thieving bandit. Things like teething, constipation/tummy aches, hunger, growth spurts, and itchy eczema - and he started waking up again. That was 2 months ago. Some nights it's only once, other nights it's been up to 4 times. Four times. As if all I have to get done the next day is take recovery naps.
The last two nights have been pretty sleepless, which has brought me to this point. It is time.
I have a feeling that this weekend holds even more unnerving crying, but this'll be different because it'll have purpose instead of the meaningless crying and wakefulness all hours of the night that we've been enjoying. I'm calling it Operation Sleep All Night Weekend. I'm a tired mama right now. So tired. Tired of being awake at night. Tired of guessing what to do to make him happy. Tired of being frustrated. I'm tired.
With our other children we let them learn to go to sleep on their own, when we felt it was the right time for them, and us. The time has arrived... again, for this one. We have an extended weekend because the kids have half the week off of school next week, and we're attacking this beast head on. I've put it off for different reasons, but the biggest one is that Schmo shares a room with his big brother... the only child in the house who has to get up and go to real school during the day. I haven't wanted all the fussing and crying to steal his much-needed rest, too. The holiday will be a treat for him though, because he'll get to sleep in Mommy & Daddy's bed while his brother figures out how to go to sleep without his props, namely his Mama!
Turn and face it, dig deep. I'm psyching myself up because really, this is never easy. But in the past it has been SO worth it. I'm over being sleepless and mean.
It's so last year.
The last two nights have been pretty sleepless, which has brought me to this point. It is time.
I have a feeling that this weekend holds even more unnerving crying, but this'll be different because it'll have purpose instead of the meaningless crying and wakefulness all hours of the night that we've been enjoying. I'm calling it Operation Sleep All Night Weekend. I'm a tired mama right now. So tired. Tired of being awake at night. Tired of guessing what to do to make him happy. Tired of being frustrated. I'm tired.
With our other children we let them learn to go to sleep on their own, when we felt it was the right time for them, and us. The time has arrived... again, for this one. We have an extended weekend because the kids have half the week off of school next week, and we're attacking this beast head on. I've put it off for different reasons, but the biggest one is that Schmo shares a room with his big brother... the only child in the house who has to get up and go to real school during the day. I haven't wanted all the fussing and crying to steal his much-needed rest, too. The holiday will be a treat for him though, because he'll get to sleep in Mommy & Daddy's bed while his brother figures out how to go to sleep without his props, namely his Mama!
Turn and face it, dig deep. I'm psyching myself up because really, this is never easy. But in the past it has been SO worth it. I'm over being sleepless and mean.
It's so last year.
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