Let me begin.
Just a shout out to my adolescent music scene.
Today I am starting the joyfull process of extricating myself from my mom's house. Them apron strings is long overdue for a trimmin'
And in the process I of course am hauling a few large bags to Goodwill. In so many ways we feel like this is a happy new start for our family. For the first time I am hoping we can decorate our with home in our own style (whatever that is) and I would love to buy my kid's clothes rather than hand them whatever their cousins pass on. In time, in time.
Speaking of clothes, I have so many that I would REALLY like to wear again. Since my honesty post I have only lost about 7 pounds. Still, no gaining over the holidays deserves a mini-medal, no? But, I have a new found determination to fit in those clothes again, and I am pretty sure this move is going to help that happen. But first the move must happen.
Back to pack.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
????????????
No clue what to write here.
This last weekend was Ike's baptism. What a circus. He felt terribly sick the day of and was in tears while everyone else was listening to lovely prelude music in the other room. He had thrown up the night before but seemed to perk up a bit in the morning. Still, in my gut I felt peace about moving it to Sunday. Oh, that I had followed that peace.
We didn't push it. We let everyone else enjoy the program and the wonderful brunch spread I'd made and I took Isaac home and napped with him for 2 hours. We were both beat.
Parenting universe. . did I screw up???
Some have told me that I did. That I gave him too much agency, that I have embarked on the slippery slope of letting him back out of things. I see that point, but here's the thing. . what if I forced him? What if he sat in his Baptism service quietly crying and miserable? Would he learn a lesson about character or just a lesson that his mother cares more about his friends than him?The next day after church we had an abbreviated service, and he was all grins. He bounded down the hall in his white jumpsuit and happily listened to the talks. It was a wonderful day. I'm not sure if that means I did the right thing, but I do believe that he knew at the end of the day that we love him, respect him, and value baptism enough to know that it is an important and personal decision. . even for an 8 year old.
I love my kids. I miss my kids. Today I am home with two sick little girls. I'm not feeling great myself, but I have certainly enjoyed the cuddles, mopping a kitchen floor, and catching up on laundry. I want to come back home. I want to fulfill my writing dreams, with a corner nook to crank out charming little stories and novels whilst I watch my kids play in the backyard. I do really enjoy my job actually. I've grown a great deal and I enjoy these high schoolers and am thankful for the opportunity to spread some light and learning. And they make me laugh. Droopy pants, cell phone addictions, and all. I just want to be home again. . even if it means being poor. Even if it means not owning our own home. Even if it means letting go of the house we are planning on and going for a smaller, cheaper, option. Crazy? Most likely. Cold feet? Absolutely. A prompting?. . no idea. The last nine months have left me feeling awfully shaky in my ability to discern the Holy Ghost's promptings. I've felt warm and good about lots of things that haven't worked out. And this weekend really shook me up.
Validation welcome.
This last weekend was Ike's baptism. What a circus. He felt terribly sick the day of and was in tears while everyone else was listening to lovely prelude music in the other room. He had thrown up the night before but seemed to perk up a bit in the morning. Still, in my gut I felt peace about moving it to Sunday. Oh, that I had followed that peace.
We didn't push it. We let everyone else enjoy the program and the wonderful brunch spread I'd made and I took Isaac home and napped with him for 2 hours. We were both beat.
Parenting universe. . did I screw up???
Some have told me that I did. That I gave him too much agency, that I have embarked on the slippery slope of letting him back out of things. I see that point, but here's the thing. . what if I forced him? What if he sat in his Baptism service quietly crying and miserable? Would he learn a lesson about character or just a lesson that his mother cares more about his friends than him?The next day after church we had an abbreviated service, and he was all grins. He bounded down the hall in his white jumpsuit and happily listened to the talks. It was a wonderful day. I'm not sure if that means I did the right thing, but I do believe that he knew at the end of the day that we love him, respect him, and value baptism enough to know that it is an important and personal decision. . even for an 8 year old.
I love my kids. I miss my kids. Today I am home with two sick little girls. I'm not feeling great myself, but I have certainly enjoyed the cuddles, mopping a kitchen floor, and catching up on laundry. I want to come back home. I want to fulfill my writing dreams, with a corner nook to crank out charming little stories and novels whilst I watch my kids play in the backyard. I do really enjoy my job actually. I've grown a great deal and I enjoy these high schoolers and am thankful for the opportunity to spread some light and learning. And they make me laugh. Droopy pants, cell phone addictions, and all. I just want to be home again. . even if it means being poor. Even if it means not owning our own home. Even if it means letting go of the house we are planning on and going for a smaller, cheaper, option. Crazy? Most likely. Cold feet? Absolutely. A prompting?. . no idea. The last nine months have left me feeling awfully shaky in my ability to discern the Holy Ghost's promptings. I've felt warm and good about lots of things that haven't worked out. And this weekend really shook me up.
Validation welcome.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Seeking the Good
I was really inspired by this post yesterday. This is a really wonderful blog, written by a fabulous person working through a tremendous amount of grief and learning as a result of losing her young son last year.
These thoughts weren't necessarily about her son at all. They were about her birthday (which was today). She is 35, and determined to make 2012 a year of wonderful things. The tone of her words struck me and I've been pondering myself on what type of year I'd like to make of 2012.
This morning in my scripture study I think I found a verse that sums it up handily:
"SEEK GOOD. . . THAT YE MAY LIVE" (Amos 5:14)
And so that is my quest for this year. I think I've spent much of this past year in hiding. Come what may, I am the master of my ship, I am the captain of my soul. And there are places I want to see, and rivers I long to sail. But I can only do it if I stop hiding on the shores, creeping carefully around what I really want to do, how I really want to live, who I really want to be.
And who is that? I want to laugh again--I want to be joyful again, silly again, and make adventures happen. Perhaps my house might not be as clean, but I want to make more memories for my children and WITH my children this year. I want to start new traditions and rekindle ones that we haven't stuck with. I want to go camping more. I want to run a 10K in under 55 minutes. I want to make time to read good literature again. I want to think about life beyond what I eat, weigh, and wear. Body and Spirit are connected and if I take better care of both of them I will gain a truer joy and a more lasting peace and clarity. This year, I want to make that journey one that is based in love.
A good, full, abundant life isn't just going to happen to me because I am generally a nice person. If I want the life I've seen with my eye of faith then it will take some courage, some action, some sacrifice, and some guts. But, I believe the rewards will be grand.
Seeking the good, both within and without, might not always be easy. And I hope that I can do it without disdain for myself. I hope that I can recognize that there is a great amount of good already in me, my past, my life, and my future. A Good Thing I am seeking this year is true, pure charity--for myself and others. I believe that is a keystone for real progression.
There is a wonderful thought from Mr. Ralph Waldo E. that captures some of my feelings tonight as the new year begins to peek my way. He wrote: “Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide on, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes brave men and women to win them.”
Whatever you want to do this year, I hope you do it. And when it doesn't happen quickly, I hope we can keep trying. Trying to Seek the Good.
Some other wonderful thoughts about seeking the good.
These thoughts weren't necessarily about her son at all. They were about her birthday (which was today). She is 35, and determined to make 2012 a year of wonderful things. The tone of her words struck me and I've been pondering myself on what type of year I'd like to make of 2012.
This morning in my scripture study I think I found a verse that sums it up handily:
"SEEK GOOD. . . THAT YE MAY LIVE" (Amos 5:14)
And so that is my quest for this year. I think I've spent much of this past year in hiding. Come what may, I am the master of my ship, I am the captain of my soul. And there are places I want to see, and rivers I long to sail. But I can only do it if I stop hiding on the shores, creeping carefully around what I really want to do, how I really want to live, who I really want to be.
And who is that? I want to laugh again--I want to be joyful again, silly again, and make adventures happen. Perhaps my house might not be as clean, but I want to make more memories for my children and WITH my children this year. I want to start new traditions and rekindle ones that we haven't stuck with. I want to go camping more. I want to run a 10K in under 55 minutes. I want to make time to read good literature again. I want to think about life beyond what I eat, weigh, and wear. Body and Spirit are connected and if I take better care of both of them I will gain a truer joy and a more lasting peace and clarity. This year, I want to make that journey one that is based in love.
A good, full, abundant life isn't just going to happen to me because I am generally a nice person. If I want the life I've seen with my eye of faith then it will take some courage, some action, some sacrifice, and some guts. But, I believe the rewards will be grand.
Seeking the good, both within and without, might not always be easy. And I hope that I can do it without disdain for myself. I hope that I can recognize that there is a great amount of good already in me, my past, my life, and my future. A Good Thing I am seeking this year is true, pure charity--for myself and others. I believe that is a keystone for real progression.
There is a wonderful thought from Mr. Ralph Waldo E. that captures some of my feelings tonight as the new year begins to peek my way. He wrote: “Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide on, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes brave men and women to win them.”
Whatever you want to do this year, I hope you do it. And when it doesn't happen quickly, I hope we can keep trying. Trying to Seek the Good.
Some other wonderful thoughts about seeking the good.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Let's Take An Inventory, Shall We?
What's in YOUR cupboard?
So, here is what I face every time I enter the threshold of my kitchen.
The cast:
Coconut m&ms
Peanut butter chocolate and mini chips that would work incredibly well in my amazing chocolate chip cookie recipe
4 different types of Breyer's ice cream
Several gingerbread cookies
Bags of hershey's kisses with almonds
Assorted brownie and cake mixes that my kids would love to help me make and then I would dish them very modest portions and sneak half the batch myself just one little nibble at a time. I'm really good at that.
See how hard my life is? Sheesh. Oh to be in my own home with control over purchases. But, just listing and accepting them as my foes helps a bit. So, what toys with your mind and casts their magnetic appeal in your general direction?
Resist. . . resist. . . resist. . .
So, here is what I face every time I enter the threshold of my kitchen.
The cast:
Coconut m&ms
Peanut butter chocolate and mini chips that would work incredibly well in my amazing chocolate chip cookie recipe
4 different types of Breyer's ice cream
Several gingerbread cookies
Bags of hershey's kisses with almonds
Assorted brownie and cake mixes that my kids would love to help me make and then I would dish them very modest portions and sneak half the batch myself just one little nibble at a time. I'm really good at that.
See how hard my life is? Sheesh. Oh to be in my own home with control over purchases. But, just listing and accepting them as my foes helps a bit. So, what toys with your mind and casts their magnetic appeal in your general direction?
Resist. . . resist. . . resist. . .
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Have I mentioned. . .
that I should really stop eating sugar? That I really want to stop eating sugar? That I feel so much better every time I do. . . for the three days that I am able to do it?
Well I should and I do. But, might I also mention:
IT IS SO HARD.
But there are lots of hard things that are worth doing. Maybe, just maybe, this is one of them. And maybe, just maybe, I'm strong enough to do it. Or, maybe it is is the doing it that I will become strong.
That's deep.
Well I should and I do. But, might I also mention:
IT IS SO HARD.
But there are lots of hard things that are worth doing. Maybe, just maybe, this is one of them. And maybe, just maybe, I'm strong enough to do it. Or, maybe it is is the doing it that I will become strong.
That's deep.
Monday, December 26, 2011
A Corner
Twas the day after Christmas,
and all thru my bones.
Was an ache and a tired that
only moms know.
The last three days have been hectic,
with much food to cook.
With children and inlaws,
And dust in each nook.
The good news? I'm learning
to like teaching alot.
My students are funny,
Even when they think they're not.
I'm finding my groove
as a mom that must work.
And most days I can do it
without being a jerk.
And though my heart lingers
for days at my home.
The progress I've made
is the point of this poem.
We have a future ahead
that we hope is quite bright.
A home of our own is
almost in sight.
So, if I can survive the next
several weeks,
I just might survive this
swim up the creek.
Thanks for the good thoughts. More later.
and all thru my bones.
Was an ache and a tired that
only moms know.
The last three days have been hectic,
with much food to cook.
With children and inlaws,
And dust in each nook.
The good news? I'm learning
to like teaching alot.
My students are funny,
Even when they think they're not.
I'm finding my groove
as a mom that must work.
And most days I can do it
without being a jerk.
And though my heart lingers
for days at my home.
The progress I've made
is the point of this poem.
We have a future ahead
that we hope is quite bright.
A home of our own is
almost in sight.
So, if I can survive the next
several weeks,
I just might survive this
swim up the creek.
Thanks for the good thoughts. More later.
Friday, December 9, 2011
It has been a month.
And I still hate teaching.
I am trying. I pray to love my students. I pray to humbly accept that this is simply something I have to do right now. I try to make it fun. I try to remember what a great language Spanish is. But, still. . . I hate it.
The whining, the moaning, the texting, the innuendo, the language, the apathetic gazes across the room followed by a "what are we doing?" 2 seconds after I explained exactly that. You would think these kids are recovering from hip surgery the way they holler every time I ask them to stand up and participate in a well crafted, engaging learning activity. Almost every time I worry for the future of our great nation, nay the world. Are teenagers all over the world like this??
I drop my kids off in the morning, and toil away trying to convince someone else's kids that Spanish really does have a purpose in their little redneck worlds. Meanwhile someone else is reading to my children and seeing them point out every exciting thing they see. So not fair. A conversation this past week:
Me: (to student) Do you have any questions? Are you going to start the assignment?
Student: Nah, I don't know none of this crap.
Me: (deep breath) No reason to call it crap just because you don't know it.
Close-minded student: It is crap. It ain't American.
Exhausted teacher exits to the right before saying something she would regret
But, what else do I do? What else can I do? I try to laugh. I have a student who hunts deer. . from her living room window. I have a student who wears fatigues every day . . . . the same pair. Air freshener has become a friend in that class. I have a student who perpetually tries to convince me that he has a two year old daughter and another that insists she is having a hard time learning Spanish because she is Puerto Rican. . . so she only speaks Puerto Rican.
It is Friday. I've never loved them so much. Today, even though we've had two quizzes every Friday for the last 15 weeks, my little mini-adults will slump into the room and shout, "What! We are having a quiz today?!?!?" Then they will whine. They will probably cheat. And many of them will fail. And they will think it is my fault. After all, I'm the one teaching them this un-American crap.
If you get to stay home with your children today. . . will you please read to them and give them a hug for me. It ain't easy, I know. But boy are you lucky to be doing something so repetitive, so monotonous, so hard, so messy, and so completely important.
Te prometo. Vale la pena.
Look it up. I'm off duty.
I am trying. I pray to love my students. I pray to humbly accept that this is simply something I have to do right now. I try to make it fun. I try to remember what a great language Spanish is. But, still. . . I hate it.
The whining, the moaning, the texting, the innuendo, the language, the apathetic gazes across the room followed by a "what are we doing?" 2 seconds after I explained exactly that. You would think these kids are recovering from hip surgery the way they holler every time I ask them to stand up and participate in a well crafted, engaging learning activity. Almost every time I worry for the future of our great nation, nay the world. Are teenagers all over the world like this??
I drop my kids off in the morning, and toil away trying to convince someone else's kids that Spanish really does have a purpose in their little redneck worlds. Meanwhile someone else is reading to my children and seeing them point out every exciting thing they see. So not fair. A conversation this past week:
Me: (to student) Do you have any questions? Are you going to start the assignment?
Student: Nah, I don't know none of this crap.
Me: (deep breath) No reason to call it crap just because you don't know it.
Close-minded student: It is crap. It ain't American.
Exhausted teacher exits to the right before saying something she would regret
But, what else do I do? What else can I do? I try to laugh. I have a student who hunts deer. . from her living room window. I have a student who wears fatigues every day . . . . the same pair. Air freshener has become a friend in that class. I have a student who perpetually tries to convince me that he has a two year old daughter and another that insists she is having a hard time learning Spanish because she is Puerto Rican. . . so she only speaks Puerto Rican.
It is Friday. I've never loved them so much. Today, even though we've had two quizzes every Friday for the last 15 weeks, my little mini-adults will slump into the room and shout, "What! We are having a quiz today?!?!?" Then they will whine. They will probably cheat. And many of them will fail. And they will think it is my fault. After all, I'm the one teaching them this un-American crap.
If you get to stay home with your children today. . . will you please read to them and give them a hug for me. It ain't easy, I know. But boy are you lucky to be doing something so repetitive, so monotonous, so hard, so messy, and so completely important.
Te prometo. Vale la pena.
Look it up. I'm off duty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)