Lovin on baby brother

These days of my life....

Get the kids off to school. Clean up dishes. Get asked by Rachel to play babies. Start laundry. Play with Rachel. Lay on the couch exhausted. Make lunch. Clean up. Lay on the couch and take a nap. Get Mariah and Allison from school. Make dinner. Clean up from dinner. Make lunches. Get kids to bed. Go to bed myself. So goes a day when I am at home with Rachel. Sometimes mind-numbing in the sheer routine-ness and the fact that the chores have to be done over and over again. Exhausting both physically and mentally. But why? Why is it so hard?

Why? Why? This is the question-word that has haunted me for years. And I realized after reading my friend’s blog post that the question that wells up from the bottom of my soul is “why me”?
Why can’t I keep my house in some semblance of order?
Why is it taking so long to recover from this physical exhaustion that has plagued me for almost 2 years?
Why do I have to believe that God created this world and the human body so intricately? It would be so much easier if I didn’t know.
Why, as a teenager, did I wonder what made people die for their faith? Why did I want to know what was missing in my own faith?
Why did I have to hear this man speak about how God’s shalom can be described in three parts – peace with God, peace with Man, and peace with Creation? And read a few books from here and learn how to personally work at being at peace with God and Man?
Why does Mike’s 15” pizza have to smell so good when it bakes but I can’t eat a bite?
Why do I have to care so much about creation and know so much about what is wrong with it? It would be so much easier to choose not to know about 5-legged frogs, estrogenic compounds, and dead-zones.
Why do I sometimes have to feel like, even though I have so much education, my sole purpose in life is to make meals, do laundry, and dishes?
Why do I believe that God can work in amazing ways to change hearts and lives when I don’t see it happening around me?
Do I believe wrongly?

It’s easy to feel sorry for myself because of my circumstance and what I know about the world. But then comes the “why them” which is equally as hard.

Why do I have to watch a friend die of cancer and have no energy to speak words or do anything for the family?
Why do I have to see the less-than-rosy side of adoption?
Why do I have to see someone dear to me unable to sleep for 7 years without prescription drugs, baffling doctors of all sorts, and battling exhaustion in the process?
Why do I have to see marriages that are struggling and people who don’t know what to do about?
Why do I think I see pain and sadness and loneliness in people all around me when they think that they are just fine?
Why do grandmas die suddenly, two days after a new grandchild?
Why do ex-husbands die and leave behind so many questions and so much pain?

Why do I see all this brokenness in the world, yet I can do nothing but care for myself and only the most basic needs of my family? How do I carry on? I know all of the academic answers….there is sin in the world, God is in control and has a plan, but you know what? IT SUCKS!! The road I have walked the past two years has been grueling – physically, mentally, and spiritually. I probably would not have chosen this road had I known the difficulties, but it has enabled me to be fluent in suffering (exactly what we all want, eh? :) ). Years ago, when I first crafted a series of Sunday school lessons on the 3-part shalom, I knew that there was suffering in the world. I had experienced some in the form of financial struggles, unplanned children, demanding advisors. I guess I just didn’t know it to this extent. I knew back then the same thing I know now, but to a different degree. God is the one who changes hearts and lives. It isn’t brilliant teaching or writing. It isn’t convincing words or more education. Not that those things don’t help, but if that were the only thing, goodness, Christians in North America would have life down pat. But they don’t.

So what to do? I have discovered I am a broken and sinful person, but yet God wants a relationship with me. I have learned to pray all over again. I have put one foot in front of the other each day, one day at a time. I have struggled many times to have hope. I have tried to reach out, to find friends, to take joy in the small victories. And as Meg discovered in “A Wrinkle in Time”, it’s all about love. I have to see the good in life and find love and hope otherwise I will shrivel into a life of cynicism which is really no life at all. I need to mourn my loneliness, my imperfections, my physical weakness, my feelings of inadequacy, and then move on, trusting that God can still use me to bring his Shalom to a hurting world.

My physical struggles will not last forever. Someday there won’t be as many dishes or as much laundry. I’ll, Lord willing, learn to keep house better. And in the meantime I can find comfort in the arms of my husband, who has loved me in the worst of times. I can hug my Rachel each night as I rock with her before bed. I can enjoy my girls and marvel at how much they love Mike and I and each other. How they find such joy in being silly and playing games. I can watch the muppets and learn to laugh more. I can find joy in making food that makes my body stronger. I can see and experience the pain in the world and know that the pain is exactly the reason for Christmas (ok, that sounds sappy!).

And I can ask the question “why not me?” God has enabled me to rise out of the trials, to be refined, to be pruned so that I can minister to a broken world, even while lying on the couch and in the mundane chores. He has enabled me to be a channel of His peace. To learn more about the depths of his love for me. To learn a bit about what it is to share in his suffering so that I may also share in his glory. I can let my girls teach me to find joy and how to love wholeheartedly. I have cried many tears of sorrow, but sometimes those mix with tears of joy. Even in a broken world, I am so blessed. So blessed. And as I share my story, I believe that healing will come for my body and my spirit. God is a god of love and relationships. I am not an island. I need people and, although it doesn’t always feel like it, people need me, too. I just have to wait with patience and more patience and even more patience and trust that the story that God is weaving in my life is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

Stephanie

on a lighter note

Ah....now that I have some of the heavy-life stuff out of the way (previous post) here's some fun things....my kids. They make me smile.

First, Mariah. She just turned seven and is so grown up. She loves school, enjoys reading, and plays well with her sisters. She tends to be a wee bit bossy and (uh-oh) sounds like me sometimes. Hm. Something for me to work on. She is really good at remembering people's names (has been ever since she could talk!) and has perfectionistic tendencies which I cringe at. I know that it is a typical first-born trait, but I know that my perfectionistic nature doesn't help the matter. I am realizing that I need to spend more time playing with the girls...the reason I don't is another whole post.

Allison likes school, too, doesn't say a whole lot there, but soaks it all up. She is a thinker and often says funny things in a very serious way. She'll be serious one second and then the next second, she'll bust out with this big laugh. Here's some of the funny things she has said. It snowed a couple inches last week, then stopped during the day and we were discussing that it might snow again tomorrow. With this very serious face, she said "if it snows tomorrow... (I'm thinking something like, "it will be pretty" or "we can go play outside" or something nice, but instead it was)...."if it snows tomorrow, I can throw snowballs at Mariah". Where did that come from? It was funny. Then tonight, we had the advent candles lit and again very seriously she said "It would be fun if we could roast some marshmallows over the candles some time". A valid idea. And my personal favorite...Mariah learned "O, Come all Ye Faithful" in spanish for school and so we sometimes sing the refrain in spanish. Well, I have been playing the piano lately after the girls are in bed and I will take requests from them as to what songs they want me to play. Allison sometimes requests O come all ye faithful, but then tells me specifically, "Mommy, after you play the first part, can you play the second part in Spanish?" Hm. Not sure how to do that, but I tell her, sure :)

And then there's Rachel. Oh, my that child is, well, funny. I guess she is what you would call strong-willed, but that sounds so cliche. She loves life, is generally very happy and busy, but really likes to have her way. She has an opinion about everything and trots almost everywhere she goes. She can walk a half mile at an almost adult pace and not complain. Let me tell you about why this child is challenging for me. Most of you (whoever you are that read:) know me enough to see that I am not a very strong-willed person, so when you enter this little 2 and a half year old bundle of energy, she is going to either boss me around or I have to learn how to be boss. I'm learning to be boss. Here are three examples of the determined personality that she has....A couple months ago she absolutely hated getting her diapers changed. I would tell her it was time, ask her to get a book or a toy, etc. but it would take 10 minutes before she would lay down. I got sick of it so I finally told her "either you choose where you get your diaper changed or I will choose". Well, the first few times she didn't choose in 30 seconds so I chose. Oh, the screams. She threw a tantrum for 10 minutes before she finally gave in a laid like a rag doll while I changed her. This was repeated about 5 times (each time the tantrum got a big shorter, thankfully) until now I tell her it is time for a diaper change and she goes and finds a place to lay right away. Ah. It was worth every minute of the screaming. I am kind of understanding the whole "breaking the will" versus "breaking the spirit" of the child. Breaking her will is letting her throw that tantrum for 10 minutes and then she decides to submit. Breaking her spirit would probably involved phsyically holding her down to change her diapers. Not something I would particularly enjoy.

Item 2 of why she is strong-willed. Her language. We recently had a speech therapist evaluate her and her language is at about an 18 month level (she is 30 months at the end of Dec.). She is very intelligent and understands everything we say, but is bound and determined to speak on her own terms, it seems. A year ago, we taught her to do the sign for please. We told her she needed to sign please before she could have dessert. Well, the ice cream sat in the freezer for 4 nights before she finally signed please. Then, just last week, Mike got her to say please (she says it "peas") and she said it for him a couple times. When I tried it, though, here is what happened. We were eating and she had dirty hands and wanted a towel to wipe them on. I told her to get one and she said "no, you" (Her first ever phrases were "no mama!", "no, me!", and "no, you".). I told her I would get a towel if she said please. She got this big pouty face, sulked in her chair for a bit, and got quiet. A few seconds later she disappeared, came back with a towel, and a big, satisfied smile on her face and proudly bragged "no, peas. No, peas" (translation: look at me, I got my towel and I didn't have to say please).

And my favorite illustration of her will....dogs. We have a dog, Tigger, who is a tiny terrier mutt and weighs about 10 pounds. She likes to boss him around and often yells "no, goggy". or makes him move off the blanket, couch, etc., out of her way. Because Tigger is so small, it might just seem like she bosses him around because she is bigger, but we found out that she likes to boss big dogs around, too. We've read this book by Cesar Milan (of the show Dog Whisperer) about how dogs can sense people's energy -- like if people are confident of themselves and take charge of life. Well, even these big dogs can sense that she is a marge-in-charge type of person.



These are my sisters full-grown pit bulls, Titan and Hershey (weighing in at 80+ pounds, I believe). They are fairly well-behaved, but are still big dogs. They intimidate me slightly:) Anyway, we were at her house for Thanksgiving and had closed the door to the dining room to keep them out. Well, after dinner, Rachel, who is at about eye level with the dogs, goes in and out of the door and is perfectly fine with the dogs. She shoves them out of the way, tells them where to go, and is not one iota afraid of them. We were all commenting on this and then, we peek out the door and here is Rachel with Hershey (the brown one) by the collar. She is dragging him behind her like he weighs ten pounds and he is following as meekly as a puppy. Thinking of that just cracks me up! She weighs maybe 30 pounds, but apparently has enough will in her to make up for what she lacks in strength. It's no wonder she pushes my boundaries! Of any of the kids, she would be the one that puts me in the loony bin and I am beginning to understand that it isn't just me that she wants to boss around. Whenever I weary of her, I just remember, this is the child that can boss around pit bulls, and I try not to take her tantrums and strong opinions too seriously. I've known for a while that I need to learn discipline and consistency and some stick-to-it-ness in my own life, and it seems as though God saw fit to give me just the child to teach me those things.

the rest of the story (aka how life really is)

I haven't blogged for a long time, but I've thought lots about it. I've wanted to tell about how Rachel hates getting her diapers changed (sometimes to the point of screaming for 5 minutes before she'll lay down!) or funny things that the girls say or post pictures of them, but never got around to it. I think the reason for it is that I tire of blogging when it is just about the good things in life. Happy pictures, pretty pictures, superficial chit chat. In the past I have blogged about hard things and feeling lonely, but not for a while. So, here's a post to make up for lost time. Hm. Now where to even begin.

To start with, Mike and I have been married for almost 8 and a half years (wow that sounds like a long time!). Marriage is challenging on its own, but then add in 3 kids, 4 years of grad school, plus 2 more years of thesis writing, plus remodeling a house, plus moving to 5 different homes in those 8+ years, plus financial stress, and all together you get a recipe for disaster. Absolutely by the grace of God, we are still married and have wonderful children and pay the bills. Through it all, though, God has been working on me. Changing me. Getting rid of the junk and making me more like him. But let me tell you, this is not an easy thing. Not easy at all. Why not? A lot of it has to do with my tendencies to perfectionism. In my humble opinion, I don't think that a perfectionist can ever be happy. Even if I were married to a perfect person or had perfect children I would probably still get crabby at them because of times when I wouldn't get my way or when I would be proved wrong, etc. etc. So, a lot of the changing that God has done in me is to learn to not be a perfectionist (which to learn this you have to admit being wrong, look for your own fault in situations, and be ok with getting a C+ in a grad level class - I've had to do the first two things many times, but thankfully only one C+:) I was comfortable in Minnesota, though -- with our house, church, friends, etc.

OK, so that is a bit of background. Then enter the move to Chicago. I was kind of excited about it at first, but basically lots of it has sucked. I write that with a bit of a chuckle because even if we'd stayed in Minnesota I'm sure that life would have still been crappy in some ways so it isn't just because of the move. But, figure this -- with the move I lost my comfort zone. That comfort zone being habits of shopping at certain stores, going to church where I knew everyone, having friends that we could call on a moment's notice to do something, having driving be effortless because I'd driven that road hundreds of times, etc. So now, going to church becomes stressful because you have to make conversation with strangers, I spend lots of time investing in chit-chat relationships when really what I want is just a couple good friends who I can bare my soul to, I rarely drive anywhere unless I've been there before, and I have to think about what I will buy from where because I consider how it was purchased/produced, etc. I dealt with some of those things last year when we lived in a nice place, close to school. But, that neighborhood is expensive so we down-styled from the nice 2-bedroom loft and moved to a 100 year-old house with crooked floors, squirrels in the attic, back porch stairs that smell like dog pee, and very little green space in view. Quite a change from our house in Minnesota -- brand new kitchen, 2 new bathrooms, a nice theater, and a huge yard. If we were trying to live the American dream then we never should have moved.

So then over this past summer, as we were moving from the loft to this house, I'm working 3 days a week on my thesis. By August I was exhausted! (On a sidenote, one very bright spot in the whole summer, though, was a week long trip to Idaho to see my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. It had been 7 years since we'd been there and it was absolutely incredible to be around people who have known me for my whole life. Yes, I did have to small talk some because I have no idea what they do now or even who my cousin's kids are :) but to just be known and accepted and loved and not have to tell my whole life history to them, was absolutely wonderful. It was balm to my soul.) Having a week of very little stress and lots of sunshine, though, made me realize how nice it could be to be married and have kids! So, come mid August, I stopped working a week before Mariah started school because our daycare person went to college and after that, I absolutely crashed. This is what I have avoided blogging about. I was so exhausted that the girls and I went up to my parent's house for almost a week and I slept and laid on the couch and talked to my mom almost the whole time. After being there I said, well, it's no wonder I'm exhausted. She was busy all day long with cooking, laundry, dishes, and diapers, it seemed!

Alas, I had to come home, though, and the past three months have been hard, but good. I pretty much have only cooked, done laundry and dishes, and picked up toys (somedays:). Sometimes I don't even check email or facebook for days on end! I've taken lots of naps, and only three weeks ago did I pick up working on my thesis again. So, what have a learned through it all? That God is steadfast and that He is really all I need. Many people have said it, but it really truly is only when you come to the end of your strength and admit that you are weak, then and only then can God's strength permeat your life. For so long I've tried to do it all -- marriage, kids, school, etc -- but I think that so much of that was done by me living on my own strength. Not that God didn't want me in those places at those times, but I know that some of it was my trying to earn approval via my perfectionistic nature. Oh, along with way, I'd get sick and realize many times that I had been trying to do too much, but I could never stop. I could always phsyically keep going, but now I just can't. I'm figuring out the medical side of it, which is a whole blog post by itself, but right now I am just treasuring the spiritual part of it. Some days are still frustrating and exhausting, but I know that my choice is to either sit around, get depressed, and feel sorry for myself or I can claim God's word and the biblical truths about me -- that I am a child of God, I am Christ's friend, I am a saint, I am a part of the body of Christ, etc. I may not always feel valued, but I know the truth (that I am loved by God and that even if I were unable to do a single more thing in life, he would not love me any less - a pretty hard thing for this old perfectionistic/approval-seeker to grasp!) and it is this truth that sets me free.

So, that is the gist of where I am at right now. Now you probably know more about me than you ever wanted to know, but I'm so sick of putting on a happy face. Yes, I have joy and contentment, but that's only part of it. I couldn't have gotten to this place without trials and as a Christian I know that becoming the person that God wants me to be will entail struggles. So, in closing I shall just share something from church this past Sunday. In observance of Thanksgiving, there were post-it notes and pens up in the front of church and everyone was invited to come forward, write down what we were thankful for, and put the postit on the cross, the altar, the woodwork, etc. This is what I wrote: I am thankful " for trials and tribulations that show me the faithfulness of God, for children, for spouses, for family." Yes, i am thankful for a house that is warm, doesn't leak when it rains, and has new kitchen cabinets, but those would not mean a thing if I did not have God or the people closest to me. God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good. Amen. :)

some pictures

We managed to survive our move and here are a few pictures from the last month....

This is Rachel after having gotten "face-painted" by Mariah with a Marker....they had been cololring so nicely while Mike and I chatted in the next room, but Mariah decided that Rachel needed a big butterfuly around her nose and mouth (with antennae above the eyebrows) and a small butterfuly on each cheek....It is rather amusing. Rachel hiding in a box with the open bag of potato chips after a trip to Costco.

The new kitchen cabinets that our landlord paid for and Mike installed....they are SO much nicer than what was in there before!

Rachel putting stickers on the new drawers to cover up the screws. Allison is decorating a piece of styrofoam to be a horse. We added reins later and she and Mariah each galloped around the house for an hour...

The girls latest activity is "ixperiments", as Allison calls them. They like to take cornstarch, water, and various other things and mix them altogether and see what happens....Here Allison was mixing cinnamon and water which she was doing while I helped Mike put in the kitchen cabinets. Later, she grabbed the sour cream and strawberry jam, as well....yummy.

school's out and another move....

Mariah got out of school about a month ago so it has been so neat to see more of her and get to see how much she has grown and changed during the year. She is such the helper now and is really pretty good at most things she tries. She measured all the spices and herbs for spaghetti tonight and she is usually willing to help pick up. Allison wants so badly to be big:) She "reads" books to us, tries writing her name, and gets frustrated when she can't draw pictures quite like Mariah. Rachel continues to be....well, how does one describe her. She has a strong sense of what needs to be done (get a towel to clean up spilled water or dip diapers in the toilet to 'rinse' them, get her shoes on at the slightest hint of going outside, etc). She STILL doesn't really speak much, but she'll talk your ear off in some jabbering language complete with facial expressions and arm waving. I have been working three days a week this summer to finish my thesis so that helps me stay sane -- a little bit of piece and quiet even though it is while I work.

Our big job for this summer is that we are moving....only about 2 miles this time, thankfully, and it doesn't seem quite so difficult as moving 7 hours away. I like that it gives me a chance to rethink how things are arranged and also reminds me that I could really get rid of some toys or books, etc. Mariah has been a big helper in moving (she tells me, "Mom, I really feel like packing some boxes today") and Rachel followed suit by packing a whole basket full of books by her own initiative. I'll miss living close to school and having a relatively large amount of green space out our window, but we'll enjoy the new place, too....

a funny song

Today I walked into the bathroom because Allison had called me to come wipe her. She said to me, "Mommy, do you want to hear a song?" I said, "Sure." This is what she sang (to the tune of Ten Little Indians (or Fingers). "The poop goes down, the pee goes up. The poop goes down, the pee goes up. The poop goes down the pee goes up. The poop in the toilet goes splash." That made me laugh! I found out later that Mariah made up the song, but it still makes me laugh!