Archive for November, 2008

Moving On Now…

Okay, now that I’ve grossed everyone out who might have read that last post, it’s time to move on to more pleasant topics…. like how I have a bit of a cold, ELA has sores all over inside her mouth that won’t get better, and this morning J threw up his breakfast in the parking lot of TT. We’re a pretty lot here this morning.

So we are taking it easy and watching Dora. Oh. Yea. I feel like I’m kind of hovering around, waiting to see if anyone else is going to need a bucket. I hope not, but you never know with things like this and small children. At this age they still think you holding the bucket near their head is what CAUSES the puking.

Okay, okay, I really must leave the yucky topics behind and find something better to write about in my bored moments.

I’ve decided to stop enjoying everyone else’s blogs only to neglect my own. I have about 6 that I read regularly, most of them written by people I don’t know. My favorite is a blog by a mother of two that keeps me laughing constantly. She is completely honest and unapologetic, with dry humor and some sarcasm, but mostly just hilarious descriptions of daily life.

I like it because she owns her mistakes as well as her strengths. She makes no excuses, and isn’t wrapped up in the moral, fiscal, or emotional dilemmas others might impose on her for her choices. In other words, she doesn’t have my issues. I really can’t handle the thought of someone thinking I have made a choice that is morally wrong. Maybe that was a big part of why I made the choices I did growing up, why I was considered such a good girl in school. Er, well, at least in high school! LOL! College was a different story. But it was such a  huge difference to take me from a public high school to a beyond-belief-ultra-conservative Christian college where I went from being a good-girl prude to being on the verge of heathen because I wore jeans on a Sunday on the college lawn.

I think by the time I got around to the second year there I lost a lot of my worries over what everyone thought I must be doing morally wrong when I realized the standards were unreasonably high and that most of the people there were either living up to them because they were on the far right end of their pendulum swing or just simply hypocritical and pretending to. That, and I finally sat on the hood of a Ford with R and began to see her as the beautiful person she is, more than a kindred spirit, more than a sister. A piece of my soul that only God could have brought to me in the form of this friendship. Every single day I am thankful for her. Those carefree days of youth and freedom mean more to me than I could ever put down in words, and one of my dearest dreams is of looking forward to heaven where we will spend days hiking through the hills and swimming in the river, free from worries and responsibilities, laughing as we talk over all the memories, never again to take for granted the simplicity of innocence.

You are my eternal sister, R. You speak my language and see the real me. We really need to see each other more often. At least if we move down there one part of our (evil) master plan will be in place like it was supposed to be years ago! Totally wrong topography, but hey, I’ll take what I can get!

I Cooked A Turkey

Actually, it’s not really what you think. I *thankfully* didn’t have to cook the big kahuna turkey for the turkey day dinner yesterday, I left that up to the actual non-vegetarianish people we spent the holiday with. I’m not good at turkeys. Or any other meat for that matter. I just don’t know how to cook it. And I’m afraid of the germs. Really. All I can think of the whole time is e-coli and bleach. I even think the cooked turkey is going to contaminate my kitchen.

It just doesn’t seem like Thanksgiving without a turkey, though. Even though we had a piece at dinner, I needed some for leftovers! So I got myself a turkey and thawed it all out and decided that the third time must be a charm, and stuck it in the oven. I cooked it for 6 hours. I had to make sure it was done. Less germs that way, you know.

I didn’t know what to do with the neck and gizzards, though. Uck. Really, does any normal human being EAT those things?! I finally consulted with DH who convinced me to get them out of the bowl in my sink and cook them for the dogs. Again, uck. But, okay, I did what seemed reasonable and stuck them in the frying pan. And the smell of them cooking brought back this really distant memory of my grandpa. I don’t really have many good memories of him, and this isn’t one of them. I remember one time at his house he made me eat one of them. And now I suddenly remember where ELA gets her overactive gag reflex. I think he was trying to toughen me up. Who knows. It was kind of a eat-it-right-now-or-go-cut-yourself-a-willow-switch moments. Fun.

Later I sat down on my Grandma’s old wooden stool to separate the turkey into edible and non-edibles, and that brought back memories of her teaching me how to properly do this unpleasant task. She was, and still is at almost 88, a frugal woman, not given to wastefulness. And that came out in every aspect of her cooking, as evidenced by her zucchini “cookies” with secret ingredients straight from her mystery container at the back of the refrigerator. Anyway, she was of the conviction that every possible morsel of meat must be saved, and so my idea of proper procedure is possibly a little warped, and this task takes me no less than 2 hours to do. More fun.

It was 9 pm when I finally was finished with all of the dishes tonight. I’m always thinking of things to write when I am doing the dishes. And by the time I sit down here it all sounds completely different and starts off one way and ends up going a different direction than planned. I need a running commentary sometimes of what’s in my head. Besides, 9:30 is way past my bedtime. I should stick to writing in the morning while I’m enjoying my coffee and thinking of all the great things I want to accomplish in a day, rather than writing at night when all I can do is write about crazy things like separating a turkey.

About Last Weekend…

To be honest, I’m still processing. If you asked me how I feel about last weekend, I wouldn’t be able to describe it, let alone label it. I simply don’t know how I feel. I was geared up for mourning and moving on, for making new plans and letting go of old dreams. Now? Now I’m in a bad mental and emotional funk that I can’t seem to shake off. For DH, life went back to, well, life. Nothing changed for him, and to cut it all down to the core, nothing changed for me, either.  But because I so fully expected life to change, I can’t get over the fact that it didn’t.

Here we are, the day before Thanksgiving, and I am so far from a holly, jolly mood it’s ridiculous. I have so very much to be thankful for, and I must choose to focus on those things rather than on what has disappointed me. Life is full of both blessings and disappointments, and it all comes down to what you choose to see, what you choose to focus on. Hiding out and avoiding everyone won’t delay the holidays. They come whether you are ready or not.
So here I am going to try and switch my focus around to the positive and stop being grouchy. Because I am grouchy lately. So much so that I do believe I have some ‘splainin’ to do, and some apologizing as well.

Last weekend I had the great privilege of sitting in the university church where we used to go when we were first married and DH was still in school. I’d forgotten how crowded it can get! And how beautiful the music is! It was the Thanksgiving Program, with a full choir and orchestra, grand old hymns, and a short homily by an excellent speaker. Even though it was only a homily, it was the first sermon I’ve sat all the way through and actually heard in what seems like about 5 years! *sigh*  Sitting through church has become such a chore with three small children. My attention is going in several directions at once, I am often losing my spot or the trail of reasoning in the sermon, and I usually don’t catch half of what is being said. A problem hugely exacerbated by having a Russian pastor with a heavy accent. You’re never sure if he’s saying “faith” or “face” because they sound EXACTLY the same! There are actually some words he’s been banned from saying from the pulpit because they sound too much like a swear word!

But I digress. I was so thrilled in my soul to hear the music, to be able to participate without distraction, to hear a message and get the whole point… it was so moving I had a hard time suppressing the tears. When they gave us stationery and invited us to write a letter of thanks to someone in our lives, I nearly broke down again. I wrote a letter of thanks to the Children’s Hospital where J had his surgery. It’s amazing how you can move forward and every day life continues on in such a normal way that you think you have recovered from the emotional trauma, only to be reminded in some small way and then the dam breaks and composure dissolves.

It just brings up so many questions. I have these thoughts that keep rolling around in my head, and I want to get them out, write them down, look at them for a while, and make adjustments to how I think. Maybe all of this won’t make sense and maybe it will, I can’t tell yet.

In my devotional this morning I read something relevant to the subject I’ve been thinking of writing about that I was thankful for:

“God cursed the ground for man’s sake. (Gen 3:16) The thorn and the thistle – the difficulties and trials that make his life one of toil and care – were appointed for his good as a part of the training needful in God’s plan for his uplifting from the ruin and degradation that sin has wrought. The world, though fallen, is not all sorrow and misery. In nature itself are messages of hope and comfort. There are flowers upon the thistles, and the thorns are covered with roses.” STC 9, 10.

It’s not that I don’t believe that God makes all things work together for good, and even our toil, which was initially a “punishment” for sin is for our benefit and makes us happy, content, and fulfilled, but what about the scars that we choose? The sins we are attracted to that we can’t see the consequences of? Okay, I have to run before I get started on that subject. It will be for another day.