Challenging Myself

I have always been naturally contrarian. Since birth I am told, so it is not a deliberate thing. Yet, At times I have fought the tendency. Of late, I have completely given up, not just this, but so many things. Life has been tough, overwhelming, not all bad, but new.  So, as many people begin to wrap up with this season, I have decided to take on new challenges. I have decided I want to write again. Why? Because my brain needs it; my soul needs it. I have hit a new stage of life, my eldest is off at University, very very happy, but also succeeding, which means she is not coming home. We knew this in our hearts, but the reality hit quickly. She is able to share her talents and see the world. Amazing opportunities are in store for her, but it is challenging for me to not have her in the same state.

Back to the natural contrarian, It is fall, it is raining and dark, it is time to put on a blanket and hibernate until the cruel Chicago winter is over. I however, have decided to take on a few new things, mostly habits. The first, writing here, at least once a week. Maybe about liturgical living, maybe about the challenges of working as a nighttime postpartum doula. Maybe just about why the trailmix I am eating needs more chocolate and less peanuts, or more interesting subjects, like how the college daughter is converting her peers at an evangelical university. Not sure yet. But, I will be here. Also, doing the Whole 30 for the first time, so I will be here and grumpy.

I hope you will join me, It has been a long time, and I am missing this outlet for me thoughts very much

The Soul Crushing loneliness of the Suburbs

This idea has been on my mind for a few days. I live in a large community, attend a large parish, am involved in many activities but, struggle with loneliness. I have a best friend, we text throughout the day, we see each other once a week, usually, we are both introverted extroverts. But, I feel so horribly alone. My husband works nights in a job he hates, and is not much of a conversationalist, plus with the limited time we see each other, we stick to the most important facts of the household. My daughter is 17, and I do consider her a friend, but, she is leaving for school in the fall, and will be 5 hours way, again limiting us to texts and facetime.

How is such a feeling so possible in today's very connected world. I think it is more possible than ever. True, genuine interactions are so limited. If I did not have my once a week with K, I would lose my stuff. I feel out of place everywhere, but upon reflection, I think that is my pride. We live in a affluent suburbs, but do not live the comfortable life of many in our community. That isolates me. I need to put on the act that we do belong here, and shut people out. They cannot see my real life, the tears over bills unpaid, the worries that a job will be cut, the silence over the fact that my husband hates his job with his whole being, but has few options anymore.

Conversations stick to the surface, kids activities, my job college plans. No deep discussions of theology or art, or politics, no dreaming with friends about growing old, just coffee, wine and weather. The days are long and lonely. The parents of kids friend's are usually older, at a different stage of life, where I still secretly hope for another baby, they are seeing grandchildren start to come.

I have no solutions, I just long for more adventures with someone dear to my heart.

We all just want to be loved.

It is just human nature to be desire to be liked. I’m totally guilty of this, I want people to like me. I want them to want to be around me, I want them to want to do things with me. Essentially though, I am still the sixth grade girl hiding in the corner of the gym at a dance because she knows there are people who do not like her.

I’ve run into a few people in life lately who for whatever reason, have made it clear, they do not care for me. Most of them I do not know well. Not nearly well enough I feel for this judgment to have been made. It has caused me to have to soul search, do I have such a strong personality that I send people running the other direction as soon as they meet me? Or worse, have I offended these people in the few moments I have been around them?

Okay, here comes the grown-up, why do I care? Seriously, I left the 6th grade any my Jr. High ways a loooong time ago, like when I left Jr. High long time ago. But still, I care. These people are not the kind that will be my close friends, not matter what they think about me, or time together is so limited. But as our circles intertwine, I want them to have a positive view of me. Again, why do I care. I care because I carry the light of Christ.  It is a burden and a blessing.

I have to project it in a beautiful way, if I am not, that is when it becomes a burden. In my life right now, it is a heavy, large light, something not always easy to carry. My faith is not as strong as it used to be, or needs to be, and I know I’m not reflecting the light well. I worry that my portrayal of the light is distorted and not clear. That could easily put people off. My love is not glowing, my heart is not light, and that, my dear readers, is off putting to me, I can only imagine how it is to others.

All right, I’m back.

The voices in my little red head are getting too loud, so it is time to blog again. Nothing special is going on, the kiddies did a play. I agree to these things to enrich their lives, and forget they kill mine.

I am now officially a doula in training, with a pending certification, anyone wanna give birth with me there, that is seriously all I need. I’m begging the hubby for new floors, and in the process doing all I can to make the currently floor look bad ie vacuuming as little as possible. But being that Chicago weather is as logical as its politics, we had a freeze/ warm up/ freeze pattern, so now we have ants. Good times. So instead of dealing with the little critters, I’m here and the kids are making cookies. That’s how we roll. Dang, there is one on my foot, now where is that vacuum?

Adventures in Worm Herding

Yes, Worm herding. I, being the tree hugging eco geek I am, have a worm bin for compost. We’ve had it for almost 4 months, and until tonight, it was a happy worming experience.

Tonight, worms escaped. And, all of this happened of course, while my eldest was babysitting. There are casualties, which someday, I will scrape off the bottom of the kitchen cabinet, bit right now, it is 11pm, and I have a glass of wine in hand, so dead wormies can wait until tomorrow.

Why worms? Well, being a homeschooling family, we cannot do anything like normal people, almost rotten pears cannot simply go in a trash bag. banish the thought! They need to be fed to 800+ red wigglers to become fertilizer for my plants.

Our “first family” of worms was happy, they never got into trouble, they were just picky. We cared for them and even upgraded their ugly plastic tub to a different larger plastic tub. But they seemed lonely in there, so we bought them friends. These friends were a bit bigger and clearly liked to party. There is a good chance the “first family” is no longer, but I haven’t dug through the worm poop to see. The new worms decided they wanted to venture out, out from the yellow tub, and explore under the sink. Not so nice there, was it guys, several of you keeled over!

There is a lesson in all of this for the kids, of course. No, not that worms cannot be trusted, but that you need to be careful when you venture out that you have a plan to get back. Without a plan, you may never find your way, just like slimy and his buddies.

Planning for the Future

I was raised by a working mom, she always worked and was never home. It was hard for us, but it did instill in my the idea that women cannot sit and be still. I have a different take, My kids need me, but I have a little job, 8-12 hours per week, when my husband is home. Honestly, it is very fulfilling.

I can’t see myself at this job forever, though. I’m getting old(er). In ten years, I’ll be in my mid-forties, and my youngest will be in his late teens. As of now, there are no babies to need me. So, I’m trying to think of what I will do with the second half of my life. I gave my twenties and thirties to babies and raising children, but, they will leave me and I don’t handle idleness well.

What to do? I’m looking at what I can do in the near future, that will can become a career in ten years. I can’t fall back on what I did pre-kids. I was 23 when I left a computer company, they have since folded, and all I learned is out of date. I’m thinking of doing something that I can tie into my pro-life work. Anything I can do to help the moms at the pregnancy center will make my work even more enjoyable.

Pray for me, I know what I want to do, but I’m scared, I don’t handle change well, and the way things are unfolding, I know God’s hand is on all of this.

The Prayer Whisperer

I will admit to never having read or seen the Horse Whisperer, the Dog Whisperer or the Baby Whisperer, but I have seen and encountered the Prayer Whisperer. You know the prayer whisperer, she’s the older woman who whispers her Rosary REALLY loudly in adoration, at 5 am.

I really don’t care how one prays, whatever draws you nearer to God is perfect, unless of course, you decide to to do it during MY holy hour. Yep, mine, and normally mine alone. I treasure my 60 minutes on Saturday morning at an hour I’ve been told is not officially recognized by the Vatican. I do not get out of bed at 4:00 am for anything else, even sick kids might have to tend themselves that hour.

Since our Chapel opened two years ago, I’ve been sitting in a cold, dark chapel almost every Saturday, sometimes with my partner, sometimes by myself. He and I have an agreement, to not make a sound, but to stay awake. I adore this time (ooohh, bad pun, sorry). So when someone comes in and makes sound, it ruffles my cold feathers.

Why? I am a very jealous woman. I do NOT want to share my love. When I am alone, sitting and gazing at Him, there is nothing else I can think of, I can talk to Him about all of my woes, but more importantly, I can just sit there, with Him. I’m sure that the loud whisper lady needed Him that morning, why else would she be there at 5:00 am. But to sit and be alone with Him, gives me a taste of heaven.

Why I need my husband

It may seem obvious, but given the number of single mothers I know, I wonder if husbands are out of vogue. Mine is gone for the week, and I feel like my right arm is missing. He only travels once a year, maybe twice, thankfully.

Why do I need him? First of all, he is there to help me find, oh, I don’t know, everything. I’ve sent him probably 12 text messages looking for stuff today alone. Not even half the time does he know where the item is or even what the item is, but just having him to ask is helpful. Another reason is the kids. This is a big one. They have too much energy for me, I’m more the “let’s sit and read quietly” kind of mom. They are more the “let’s run around screaming and kicking like a bunch of lunatics” kind of kids. My husband must have been that kind of kid, and he can deal with them around 5 pm much better than I can. Another kid related thing, I cannot fix playmobils, legos or Star Wars figures. If they break this week, look out garbage bag! he has the ability to fix toys, I have the ability to throw away toys. The kids things can go on forever, but lastly, he can tell a 12 year old girl that she cannot wear high heels and a short skirt with authority, I just turn a funny color and freak out. He freaks out in a different, powerful over my dead body sort of way that makes the 12 year old sulk off and never wear said heels again.

Just another thing I need him for, he listens. The little boarders here need to be told 900 times just about everything. he listens to me even when I am talking to the television, and he warns the kids to not join in those conversations. He never complains about the way I look, which honestly, he could. If I look like a bum, which I always do on days I work, he doesn’t notice, if I look nice, he doesn’t ask why I’m dressed up, like a certain 12 year old. I could look like death, and he would still think I’m beautiful. God Love him.

I could go on forever, and ever, and ever ( he puts up with that, too!). I love my husband, and cannot imagine life without him, especially after the 18 years we have been together. I hope someday my kids find a spouse as faithful and loving as mine.

Party Pooper

I am officially a party pooper. A party I helped plan, I decided not to attend. The reality is I am freaking tired.

I’m tired because I work, and I plan and I drive my kids all over the earth. Up till this point, I’ve attempted to make time for everyone and everything, however, that is not working very well any more. Tonight, I said no. I need to stay in, and I might do so again tomorrow, even though friends are trying to guilt me to go out. I can’t. Heck, I’m not sure it is even safe for me to drive, my eyes are heavy, my reflexes are slow.

School begins in a few days, this year we have decided as a family to say no, to not over commit. The summer was insane, and honestly, we do not want to live like this. I hope we can. Pressure from out side of the house is tremendous. I long for a simpler life, with more focus, but know people will be hurt along the way to that. How is it possible in thsi age to say no, and not to offend? That, I will have to figure out.

It has been forever!

I took a hiatus to devote my time to Facebook. Joking of course, but life has been very, very busy. I had been thinking of abandoning this endeavor, but I still have more to say than 240 characters allow.

I've always been someone who puts her thoughts down, sometimes in a notebook, or in a file on my computer, or in this case a self-indulgent blog. Sometimes, I just need to write out my thoughts so that I can get them out of my head.

I spend all day thinking, sometimes I have great thoughts, often, just random nonsense. Paper is great, and I love the stuff, but it is a challenge with kids to sit and write on paper, after all, finding a pen can take hours any given day! So here I am, until I get bored again, if you'll have me.

Today's Feast Day Quote

Today is the feast of St. Frances of Rome.

"A married woman must often leave God at the altar to find Him in her household care."

In other words, it's nice to go to adoration, but the dishes won't wash themselves, He is there, amid the yucky milk cup, too.

I'm back!

I finally got a new computer with a letter "t", thus making it easier to write. I hope to make Lent a good time to do this, how are you preparing for Lent, I'd love to hear ideas.

More on Change

I, like many Americans, am a New Year resolution failure most years. Not this one, I swear. I vowed I would get fit. I know, and so do millions of other Americans, but for some reason this year it is different, at least for me.

I'm going to be 35 in a month, so my time to get serious about weight and exercise is running out, 35 seems to be the age doctors start lecturing more, and health heads south. I think that is motivating me, or may be it is the fact that I have an 11 year old daughter. I was thin until about her age, and it worries me to think she will not always be thin. I want her to see my better example.

So far, in the week we've been in this year, I've been able to lose 5 lbs and exercise 5/7 days. I know most people give up by the end of January, but I'm hoping that by posting here, I'll not be one of them. My goal is irrelevant, I'm rather hoping for a lifestyle change, to actually like sweat, to not be embarrassed to have my kids seem me workout and not find it easy. I've already seen a bit of an attitude change, I want to work out, even though I'll still admit to hating it, with a passion.

I'll keep posting, and please pray for me, I'm never going to run a marathon, I have not an ounce of desire to do so, but I'd love to know I could if I wanted to.

Pining

My husband is out of town, no biggie, I know, husbands travel all the time. Mine doesn't though. We have been together for 17 years this fall, if you count our first "date", senior year homecoming. During that time, we haven't been apart for more than 48 hours, even during the 3 months I was in the hospital on pregnancy induced bedrest. I'm pretty much lost without him.

For years, I was a proud feminist, who needs a man, right? Then I met Chris, who I needed more than anything in my life, next to God. He made me realize what being a woman really is, and it didn't involve man hating. He made me stronger, wiser and showed me who I really could be. He brought me back to the faith of my baptism.

I need him to tell my silly ideas, he still seems interested in my rants about well, everything, he is the only one here who ever says they like my cooking. I miss telling him about all the kids antics, due to time differences and busy schedules, we have only been able to share a few short texts. When he is here, I do not need an alarm clock, he wakes me every morning, just before the alarm disturbs my dreams.

I'm sure I sound silly, but the truth is I really love my husband, and miss him so much it hurts. It is only 6 days, but it seems like forever.

Be careful what you ask for, you might get it

One of life's little lessons.
I live in a very nice community, my husband likes to (half) joke that we are the slums of this particular town in our little cramped condo. I often go to the park or library and get the feeling that I do not belong there with my kids, in their hand-me-down clothes. A friend once told me she felt like she needed to be dusted off in similar situations, entering the giant houses of my town, but coming from a bungalow on the South side. I thought she was silly, but I run that conversation over in my head daily lately. I know how she felt.

But just as I start feeling bad for myself, I remember a book that I read. It was a biography of Dorothy Day, upon reading it, I begged God to give me poverty so I could be as simple as Mary, and because I knew how petty and wasteful I could be. He has given me so much, I am not even close to poverty, but simplicity, yes. I asked to always remember those who had less, yet I whine and feel bad for myself. God did not give me true poverty, but he gave me what was good for me.

Counting the hours

My sister's husband leaves Afghanistan in 24 hours, God willing. I'm not especially close with him, but I cannot bear to see my sister agonize while the news reports come on, or dread every knock at the door. 24 hours and he will be on a plane to somewhere in Europe, by the end of July he'll be on U.S. soil.

Bored

I thought of writing a poem, but figured I'd spare any readers I have left the agony.Last week I hurt my back. No biggie, well, actually it is pretty serious, but I do not dwell on hings much. Since then, I've been told to "take it extra easy". Okay, I though that meant no lifting the 4 year old, but according to the Doctors, it means no anything.

I do not handle inactivity well, especially when I can see all the stuff I need to do. But, this is a reminder to slow down, take it easy. Sometimes God forces us to do this if we will not do it on our own.

Under Pressure

Tomorrow is my middle son's First communion. Big day, but I live for big days. However, this time, there are many convergences that are causing me a bit of stress. No not the food, or the weather, or even will he stand still, but will the people coming be moved. Yes, moved.

Two people are coming that are fallen away Catholics. One happens to be my little sister, whom I love very much, and frankly, pity, she really did not get a fair upbringing or exposure to the faith. She called today to let me know she is church shopping. This is better than her current state of nothingness, but I want her to be Catholic again. The faith of her baptism. I want her three kids to be Catholic, too. All this is happening because her husband's base in Afghanistan was attacked last week, and he decided they need a church. He is not Catholic, but again, I'd give my right arm, and my left for that matter for him to cross the Tiber.

Why does this cause me stress? I feel like I need to impress them at Mass. Yes, me, the dumb sea cucumber (if Aquinas was a Dumb ox, I must be a dumb sea cucumber). But then, I remember, wait, is it my job to impress? Not at all. Sure I can sing my little heart out tomorrow, but that would only bring attention to me. No, the Mass is about Love, pure, undying selfless love. But how I share that in the Mass? I don't, again, not me. 

But what can I do? My best guess is pray for them, show my genuine love of being there. I know it's tomorrow, but I'd appreciate any suggestions!

Crawling out from under a rock

It's been a month since I blogged. No particular reason for the length of absence, life is just very busy this time of year. What with recitals, and communions and school projects, I nearly missed the flowers of spring.

I vowed 11 years ago to NEVER miss the beauty and majesty of spring. You see, I was stuck in the hospital pregnant with my eldest child. I went in March 13, when there was a foot of snow on the ground, and came home in Mid-May, but to total bed rest in my home. Dear daughter arrived June 5, after recovering from the traumas of surgery and lack of sleep, I saw the outdoors after spring had passed.

This year, I lamented that I missed the blooming of the trout lilies, the beautiful wildflower that carpets the woodland floor, due to my own busy life, however, I did manage to see one, as I realized my loss. Life is to beautiful to miss due to busy-ness. How often I spend time on things that lack beauty! Even the most mundane tasks of life can be filled with beauty, when done with great love, or with a little effort to see the hidden. 

Getting old stinks

The primary reason is you have to witness even older friends suffer the things that come with age. Yesterday, a woman I credit more than any other person with helping me become who I am, was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I know this woman well enough to know she will embrace her cross with great joy, seeing God in her pain. That does not take away the worry I will have or the fear of losing her. Again my selfishness shows. It's all about me, my need for her. 

I was 13 when I met her, and threw up on her shoes. Nice intro, but she tenderly cared for me and drove me home from church. For some reason, God has let us keep in touch though my rough teen years, rebellious college days and the chaos of my life as a wife and mother. I have so many moments of joy and learning from her. She is who I would like to be as I age, Please pray for my friend, I still have so much to learn from her.