i recently read a blog about a mom who refused to give into the "princess" factor for her daughter(s). she wrote about the need to teach her daughter that she did not need rescued and the mixed messages of femininity that princess movies often convey.
statements such as these make me want to lose control of my tongue (and cat claws) momentarily.
where did this group of women come from?? those who deem marriage unnecessary and the shaving of one's armpits and legs irrelevant?
i almost always want to ask what happened in their childhood that made them so against embracing the fun of being a girl.
anyone who knows me well, knows that i love glitter. i love pink fluffy dresses, i love barbie, and high heels.
you dont have to love (or even like) this stuff to be a girl...but it is quite different to dislike glitter for its defiance to never leave once released and to dislike it because it embodies everything evil that makes women the inferior sex.
i once had someone argue that God made Eve from Adam's rib so that we would be equal and then turn around and argue for same sex marriage while continuing to argue that marriage wasnt necessary- that you could simply have a "partner". i couldnt even continue the conversation. i wanted to make a sign to staple to her forehead "walking contradiction."
-just sharing a moment with you- now, stepping away from all biblical aspects of this...
i fully believe a woman's place is in the home. i think it's cool if you can work and be a mom. i've done it. i didnt personally like it as much as i enjoy the never ending thankless job of being a stay at home mom, though. at least here, when i dont hear a thank you or a "job well done", i do know that i am loved and am more than likely not gossipped about by my 15 month old.
i also fully believe in shaving your armpits and legs. if you dont, then please dont tell me about it and dont raise your arm near my face or brush your leg passed mine on a rare day when i wear a skirt or shorts. it makes me shiver just thinking about it.
i 100%-dont try to argue with me- hands down- believe in gender roles. i believe there are some jobs out there that are better left to men. i believe in barbie dolls for girls, and trucks and action figures for boys. i dont like gender nuetral although i see its benefits with multiple children. but dont get upset with me when you bring your infant, wrapped in some gender nuetral blanket, name Pat to visit me and i ask if it's a boy or a girl. give me a CLUE.
i love gigantic oversized bows on baby girl's head. how cute!! (and how obvious!) i love little suits with a tie and a derby for little boys. how adorable!
i refuse to raise my child to be confused about what or who she or he is.
that being said, i dont mind tom-boys. i have one in my house. i dont mind a guy who can show his emotions (just dont get too weepy on me).
i have a true 1950s mentality that i embrace and love. it's cut and dry. there is no "grey" area.
now, back to the blog i read:
why deny your daughter the chance to read about princesses being rescued? it's a fictional story. it's a fantasy. it's whimsical. and while i personally HATE most cartoons, i would never not let my kids watch cinderella or sleeping beauty because it might ruin their psyche. give me a break. cartoons and (most) princess stories are pretend! PRETEND. if you want to give your daughter a bone to chew on, teach her the difference between reality/nonfiction vs. pretend/fiction. dont deny her the chance to embrace her innate ability to love the color pink and big gigantic poofy dresses.
i will admit that not all girls love pink...but give her the chance at least. jeez. i've met very few girls in my lifetime that didnt, at some point in time, love dolls.
it makes me insane when someone announces "gender neutral" everything, but then tries to shape their kids into what they, as parents, now are.
lily is a girl. she LOVES fancy dresses. she loves princess stories...but you know what? she also loves to get dirty, work on things with tools, and roughouse in the backyard. she's a girl, through and through...but she knows how to be tough, stand up for herself, and take charge of a situation. she also sees her dad as her hero. she likes to talk about prince charming and sees painting her nails as a real treat.
i personally like the glorification of the 1950s. i love the clothes, the bathing suits, the way teenagers (for the most part) called adults sirs and mams. i LOVED the music. i love that most homes werent broken and moms stayed at home (because they could if they wanted to). i love that dinner, then, was at the table. i love that the phone was a landline- and that was IT. i loved that tv was a treat and NOT a necessity. i also love that tv was censored much more strictly than it is now.
i dont know what triggered the extreme part of the 60s. the burning of draft cards and bras...but to me, the 50s seemed to look so innocent...
dont bother telling me about terrible things that happened in the 50s. i do know some history, i know of the horrible parts of the 50s as well.
but things are much different now in terms of standards and morals. marriage to the majority is now a joke or deemed unnecessary. princess stories gave you a fantasy story about love and overcoming bad. it showed you a girl who came from nothing and became a beautiful princess with the help of her friends. what's wrong with that?
as a girl, why not let a guy who offers pay for dinner? why not let a gentleman open the door for you...hold your umbrella in the rain...take your hand as you step out of the car?
because you can do it yourself? so what? the guy is being NICE! allow that. embrace that your are a girl and therefore get an invisible card that basically means if you are ever carrying heavy things, typically, a gentleman will say, "here, allow me to carry that for you."..to which you should answer, "why, thank you! how nice!"
it's not difficult. (and it's less work for you. take a break!)
i may be wrong in the way i am raising my children, but i make sure the bible is a part of their lives, daily...and everything else, is lead by my heart.
in conclusion, i say this: if life gives you the opportunity to be treated as a princess by a real life prince charming, don't be so caught up in the song and dance of "anything you can do, i can do better..."
embrace your inner girl...throw on some glitter...and do the princess wave as you ride off into the sunset. :)
Friday, November 9, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
call me pollyanna
...but not to my face. i dont always accept this feature of my extraordinarily multifaceted personality.
i dont like labels, in fact, i'm growing to disdain them. i really hated them in high school....and all school before that. it was always in your face...in your head every night when you went to sleep. you must strive to be a part of the popular group...and when you werent...you were shunned.
i started high school somewhere in the 'normal' group...and became so disheartened, so angry with cliques, that i went to the fray and became a "goth" girl. scary, i know. i had this great friend, though, who never changed and never tried to change me. i am forever thankful to her for keeping me on the straight and narrow as much as she possibly could. (and when she couldnt, she took me to my aunt Brenda, who most definitely could)
i went through many phases, as most teenagers do, and i believe i am a stronger person for it. however, i dont believe it was all necessary. i sometimes wish i had another go at college to study anthropology. maybe i'd get a better feel for why we, as humans, must separate all humans into subclasses.
i thought, since i escaped high school, somewhere in between the normal kids and the popular ones (yes, the goth phase didnt last), that i had also escaped the grouping and re classing of people.
i was wrong. work is just like high school, only you get paid (though, not nearly enough) to show up and deal with other humans and see how everyone separates into cliques. then i was pregnant with baby #2 and my husband and i discusses out finances and we found out that it would be better for me to stay at home. i was elated! no more cliques! no more high school-ish drama!
i found websites that offered advice and support to stay at home moms. (i know. a group.) i thought i could find knowledge on how to help Lily prepare to be a big sister and say goodbye to her only child 'status'. i wanted support for after the baby was born. you could post questions and get multiple answers from many, many moms. at first, i was amazed...then i became...sad.
under every mom's comment was a barrage of letters and numbers. sometimes it just told who they were, how long they were married, and how many children they had. the letters, though, were a new language for me. there were labels for what kind of mom you were.
i couldnt grasp it. i still cant. it makes me angry. basically, it's like a disclaimer at the bottom of your advice so that if you're not part of "that" group, then you can write off her advice as ridiculous because she's a fruitloop.
i found out that there arent initials for what i am.
i neither "ebf" (exclusively breast feed or extended breast feeding, i.e. breastfeeding your toddler, not just as a baby), "ep" (exclusively pump), nor "eff" (exclusively formula feed). there's also "nv" (non vaccinating), "af" (anti formula), "nc" (non circumcising), "oo" (organic only)...and if youre vegan, well then, you are the next best thing since sliced bread.
if you are an ebf,nv,af,nc,oo vegan, then your words are basically from the lips of God...and also known as a "crunchy" mom.
again, i didnt fit in.
why do we need to put more labels on ourselves?? arent we all moms who love our kids to pieces and want to give them (our own version of) the best?
so i unjoined all the sites. they arent supportive. 9 times out of 10 they are passive aggressive, and once in a blue moon, they are downright hostile.
just because we dont see eye to eye on the hot button issues doesnt mean we cant carry on a civilized conversation...but in these groups..apparently not mirroring other parenting styles is exactly all you need to shun someone from your "group". i was iced out of one group because i suggested she supplement with formula using a supplemental feeding device. (basically, you still "breastfeed" but there's a tube attached so they are fed formula until you "milk supply" can fill up your baby)
this was sacrilege. what i shouldve suggested was donor milk. yup. someone who has tons of breast milk that they dont need, so you take that and use another mom's milk to feed your baby. (personally, i find this weird. for the record, i also find blood transfusions weird, too)
anyways, i was shunned from the group due to my faux pas...and it was enough of a push to make me walk away from "groups" all together.
maybe that's why i'm not social. it's wrong, i know, but i dont want to be lumped into one group or another. i just want to be me. a mom, a wife, a friend. quirky, and heading towards strange, but me. i shouldnt have to lay my life bare to start up a conversation. i will absolutely share it with you if you ask, but i dont think i should be judged for it, nor would i judge you.
i'm kind of excited to be home schooling Lily (and Amelia and Cain when the time comes). not only are we adding Bible lessons to every day's work but i'm going to add in some anthropology and hope with every ounce of my being that when my kids venture out into the world they are strong, independent thinkers who will squash any clique that ever tries to put a label on them.
i still have hope that things will get better. but i'm trying to be realistic. i'm starting small. one step at a time...and what better thing to do than to rest all your hope and heart on your children?
i dont like labels, in fact, i'm growing to disdain them. i really hated them in high school....and all school before that. it was always in your face...in your head every night when you went to sleep. you must strive to be a part of the popular group...and when you werent...you were shunned.
i started high school somewhere in the 'normal' group...and became so disheartened, so angry with cliques, that i went to the fray and became a "goth" girl. scary, i know. i had this great friend, though, who never changed and never tried to change me. i am forever thankful to her for keeping me on the straight and narrow as much as she possibly could. (and when she couldnt, she took me to my aunt Brenda, who most definitely could)
i went through many phases, as most teenagers do, and i believe i am a stronger person for it. however, i dont believe it was all necessary. i sometimes wish i had another go at college to study anthropology. maybe i'd get a better feel for why we, as humans, must separate all humans into subclasses.
i thought, since i escaped high school, somewhere in between the normal kids and the popular ones (yes, the goth phase didnt last), that i had also escaped the grouping and re classing of people.
i was wrong. work is just like high school, only you get paid (though, not nearly enough) to show up and deal with other humans and see how everyone separates into cliques. then i was pregnant with baby #2 and my husband and i discusses out finances and we found out that it would be better for me to stay at home. i was elated! no more cliques! no more high school-ish drama!
i found websites that offered advice and support to stay at home moms. (i know. a group.) i thought i could find knowledge on how to help Lily prepare to be a big sister and say goodbye to her only child 'status'. i wanted support for after the baby was born. you could post questions and get multiple answers from many, many moms. at first, i was amazed...then i became...sad.
under every mom's comment was a barrage of letters and numbers. sometimes it just told who they were, how long they were married, and how many children they had. the letters, though, were a new language for me. there were labels for what kind of mom you were.
i couldnt grasp it. i still cant. it makes me angry. basically, it's like a disclaimer at the bottom of your advice so that if you're not part of "that" group, then you can write off her advice as ridiculous because she's a fruitloop.
i found out that there arent initials for what i am.
i neither "ebf" (exclusively breast feed or extended breast feeding, i.e. breastfeeding your toddler, not just as a baby), "ep" (exclusively pump), nor "eff" (exclusively formula feed). there's also "nv" (non vaccinating), "af" (anti formula), "nc" (non circumcising), "oo" (organic only)...and if youre vegan, well then, you are the next best thing since sliced bread.
if you are an ebf,nv,af,nc,oo vegan, then your words are basically from the lips of God...and also known as a "crunchy" mom.
again, i didnt fit in.
why do we need to put more labels on ourselves?? arent we all moms who love our kids to pieces and want to give them (our own version of) the best?
so i unjoined all the sites. they arent supportive. 9 times out of 10 they are passive aggressive, and once in a blue moon, they are downright hostile.
just because we dont see eye to eye on the hot button issues doesnt mean we cant carry on a civilized conversation...but in these groups..apparently not mirroring other parenting styles is exactly all you need to shun someone from your "group". i was iced out of one group because i suggested she supplement with formula using a supplemental feeding device. (basically, you still "breastfeed" but there's a tube attached so they are fed formula until you "milk supply" can fill up your baby)
this was sacrilege. what i shouldve suggested was donor milk. yup. someone who has tons of breast milk that they dont need, so you take that and use another mom's milk to feed your baby. (personally, i find this weird. for the record, i also find blood transfusions weird, too)
anyways, i was shunned from the group due to my faux pas...and it was enough of a push to make me walk away from "groups" all together.
maybe that's why i'm not social. it's wrong, i know, but i dont want to be lumped into one group or another. i just want to be me. a mom, a wife, a friend. quirky, and heading towards strange, but me. i shouldnt have to lay my life bare to start up a conversation. i will absolutely share it with you if you ask, but i dont think i should be judged for it, nor would i judge you.
i'm kind of excited to be home schooling Lily (and Amelia and Cain when the time comes). not only are we adding Bible lessons to every day's work but i'm going to add in some anthropology and hope with every ounce of my being that when my kids venture out into the world they are strong, independent thinkers who will squash any clique that ever tries to put a label on them.
i still have hope that things will get better. but i'm trying to be realistic. i'm starting small. one step at a time...and what better thing to do than to rest all your hope and heart on your children?
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
my heart overflows
children are by far our greatest accomplishments. it is a privilege, an honor, and such a blessing to be given the title of mom or dad. i can feel my heart glow when i hold them; my eyes water, everything slows down, and i cannot help but smile.
strangers comment "oh well, now your family is complete."
yes, you are right. my family was complete when Arnie and i were married. it was complete when Lily was born. it became complete when Amelia was born, and even more so the following year when Cain was born.
dont ask if we are finished, for the truth is, we were finished when Lily came into our lives. i announced it, proudly.
i look back now and smile at that time. i was young, naive, and thought i knew everything about planning.
the truth now is i have no idea how to answer the question "are we finished?"
i dont dare to plan that much. are we responsible? as much as we can be. do we make mistakes? of course.
i dont care how i'm viewed. i dont care how many eyes roll or heads shake in disaproval. these are my children. blessings. little beings that have made my heart move in ways i never knew was possible. yes, absolutely, our hands are full...but our hearts are tenfold what are hands can handle...and we cant stop smiling about it.
the truth is, i dont need your permission. i dont intrude on your life in similar ways, so grant me the same kindness and be happy for us as a family.
here are some moments in our lives, moments in my life, in my heart- that transformed me, that caused my heart to grow. moments where i held lily, amelia, or cain in my arms...or moments where i saw arnie hold one of our children...and i knew this was exactly what was meant to happen in my life. and any moment in my life where i've doubted who i was or where i was...a moment when i questioned if i had chosen the right path..all of that was swept away in an infant's sigh. in the clasping of a finger. in a smile, the first true smile...and i've never doubted again.
so when someone asks some silly question about "planning" and you see me smile- maybe you'll see why. i wont put that in my mind. i wont "plan" what's next. i'll leave that up to God. :)
pictured above is amelia mae
pictured above is our Lily Angelina (photo with baby Amelia)
clockwise of the above 4 photos are as follows: Arnie and Lily- September 2004, me and Amelia- July 2011, me and Amelia- August 2011, and me and Cain- August 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
in sickness and in health
here i am. sitting on this dreaded couch again.
you know, i've loved this couch since we've purchased it...and then it seems like it's become cursed because for 2 years now, i have been pregnant...and for two years now, i have been placed on bed rest. bed rest. i sigh. strict bed rest were the doctor's words. strict.
have i ever followed the rules? have i ever done exactly what someone has asked of me? hardly ever.
i am a highly active girl. dont ask me to sit still day after day while i can clearly see that things need done. things that i have done day in and day out like a well oiled machine. not to mention my plans to over-haul lily's room, rifle through her drawers and get rid of all ill fitting outfits, and find out exactly what size she is now, given that school is around the corner and once again we are behind in preparing in that realm of the world.
the frustration sets in. i have a 7 year old who is in the midst of a huge growth spurt and is attempting to eat us out of house and home. i have 12 month old who is getting into everything, learning her emotions (i.e.-temper tantrums gallor!), and exploring her new found mobility- much to my dismay.
here, i sit like budha. unmoving. wanting to move. trying to obey these rules, if not for the better part of each day...because at some point, i tell myself, i must be on my feet: diapers dont change themselves, food does not cook itself, dishes stay dirty unless i am up, and laundry does not do itself (even though i wish sometimes-that it did)
i try to reason with my body...mostly my belly..that if i'm a good girl until...let's say 4pm...then it should cooperate and allow me a few consessions. my mind needs to be healthy too...and sitting here is making me INSANE...and the sad thing is i'm supposed to be laying down on my left side ALL the time. even for meals. i feel guilty because i'm not. i do not want to jeopardize the health of this little one kicking me on the inside, but at the same time, how can i possibly follow these rules right now? i cannot neglect the fact that there are 2 girls eyeballing me from across the room.
yes, i know at some point everyone has whispered under their breath "i wish they'd put me on bed rest.." unless of course, you've been there...in which case, you can only sympathize. it's not as wonderful as one would think. it's quite constricting, especially when you are not alone in your home.
who would've thought that 11 years ago when arnie and i took our vows that the sickness and health part would hit before either one of us were old? i know when i said it, that was what i pictured. us...much older...taking care of each other. but life throws your curveballs....
lucky for us, we both know how to play ball. :)
i am not the easiest person in the world to get along with. i am a perfectionist. i am extremely type A. heck, my blood type is even A positive. things must be just so...and with 2 kids and a husband that often works long hours, things being just so....can turn into so annoying...i'm sure.
add that idealism to the fact that i am no longer supposed to be up doing things. taking care of things. making sure things are alphabetized, organized by sized, folded- not wadded, crisp- not wrinkled, spotless- not slightly smeared....i become dr jeckyl and mr hyde.
i wrestle constantly with "let it go"..and "it can wait"...into the emotional throw down of a 4 year old dealing with stress that no one other than me--i've been heaping on myself.
i begin thinking: this baby can come any day. things need to be ready. that means little cloth diapers prepped. basinette cleaned-with mattress cover and a fresh blanket. bags need to be packed, but not so packed that i cant find my supplies. things should be properly organized in the kitchen. the floors need to be scrubbed. the carpet needs swept once more. dont get me started on our yard...and THEN i start thinking about the possible complications that may occur at the hospital. with the baby...with me....and then it happens. i explode. i dont think. i dont stop. i dont mention these things that have been racing through my mind as i have silently counted and weighed and measureed each contraction i've felt that day. (was that one stronger? are they getting stronger? is this labor? what was that?? should i call someone?!)
i'm a time bomb that constantly reloads and explodes without warning. i often wonder how many times arnie has silently thought in his head "i did not sign up for this." he knows it would kill me to say. he knows i would melt into a breakdown. i dont mean to be this insane...but WOW does stress get to me. it's hard enough having one child eat a meal that could've easily been for 3 people- come up to you five minutes after eating it asking if they can have something else to eat....then add in a teething, moody 12 month old..who enjoys kicking while being changed...and then add to that bed rest to a type A person who likes, wants, and needs to be able to do things herself....and arnie has a perfect storm he's walking into as he comes home from work.
i feel like Clint Eastwood...a version anyway...as arnie walks in the door and i give him a look that says "go ahead...ask me how my day was. i DARE you. punk."
now if you read this far, please know, this isnt a rant, or a pity party for me. this is just a glimpse in the window at our lives right now...and how i am grateful that my spouse took his vows to heart when he repeated the words "in sickness and in health".
good times and bad...he's still here. putting up with my insanity. my life is a blessing every day. i am so very grateful to have to chance to be a mom to 3 children. but any mom can tell you it isnt easy and rarely is....so i'm keeping it real. being honest at this point in our lives. i am grateful today for all that i have. especially my husband.
this experience thus far has taught me to appreciate the smaller things in life. like being able to get up and do random things around the house. it has taught me to look at my husband in a new light because i am honest enough to admit that i am not an easy person to be around when under this much stress. i have learned that marriage is absolutely something you must work at because it is so very easy to just disconnect yourself from everything when you get down. i hope it is teaching our children the value of family and how you can depend on them to help you when you feel -and sometimes are- helpless.
as much as i complain about bedrest, i should be thankful for it as well. there's nothing like not being able to leave the house at random that will bring a family closer. everyone surrounding me on this couch to play board games, to read a book together, to watch a movie....
so the next time you attend a wedding and you hear those words "in sickness and in health"...think about the weight they truly carry. my experience, in truth, has been a light one. there are husbands and wives out there dealing with so much more weight than we are: cancer, war injuries, alzheimers...to name a few. the spouses who stick it out...they bring tears to my eyes. i dont think you could ever clearly put a full definition on Love, but i think it is spouses like mine and like the ones mentioned above that truly help define the word...and like my tattoo on my arm says: it (love) never fails.
you know, i've loved this couch since we've purchased it...and then it seems like it's become cursed because for 2 years now, i have been pregnant...and for two years now, i have been placed on bed rest. bed rest. i sigh. strict bed rest were the doctor's words. strict.
have i ever followed the rules? have i ever done exactly what someone has asked of me? hardly ever.
i am a highly active girl. dont ask me to sit still day after day while i can clearly see that things need done. things that i have done day in and day out like a well oiled machine. not to mention my plans to over-haul lily's room, rifle through her drawers and get rid of all ill fitting outfits, and find out exactly what size she is now, given that school is around the corner and once again we are behind in preparing in that realm of the world.
the frustration sets in. i have a 7 year old who is in the midst of a huge growth spurt and is attempting to eat us out of house and home. i have 12 month old who is getting into everything, learning her emotions (i.e.-temper tantrums gallor!), and exploring her new found mobility- much to my dismay.
here, i sit like budha. unmoving. wanting to move. trying to obey these rules, if not for the better part of each day...because at some point, i tell myself, i must be on my feet: diapers dont change themselves, food does not cook itself, dishes stay dirty unless i am up, and laundry does not do itself (even though i wish sometimes-that it did)
i try to reason with my body...mostly my belly..that if i'm a good girl until...let's say 4pm...then it should cooperate and allow me a few consessions. my mind needs to be healthy too...and sitting here is making me INSANE...and the sad thing is i'm supposed to be laying down on my left side ALL the time. even for meals. i feel guilty because i'm not. i do not want to jeopardize the health of this little one kicking me on the inside, but at the same time, how can i possibly follow these rules right now? i cannot neglect the fact that there are 2 girls eyeballing me from across the room.
yes, i know at some point everyone has whispered under their breath "i wish they'd put me on bed rest.." unless of course, you've been there...in which case, you can only sympathize. it's not as wonderful as one would think. it's quite constricting, especially when you are not alone in your home.
who would've thought that 11 years ago when arnie and i took our vows that the sickness and health part would hit before either one of us were old? i know when i said it, that was what i pictured. us...much older...taking care of each other. but life throws your curveballs....
lucky for us, we both know how to play ball. :)
i am not the easiest person in the world to get along with. i am a perfectionist. i am extremely type A. heck, my blood type is even A positive. things must be just so...and with 2 kids and a husband that often works long hours, things being just so....can turn into so annoying...i'm sure.
add that idealism to the fact that i am no longer supposed to be up doing things. taking care of things. making sure things are alphabetized, organized by sized, folded- not wadded, crisp- not wrinkled, spotless- not slightly smeared....i become dr jeckyl and mr hyde.
i wrestle constantly with "let it go"..and "it can wait"...into the emotional throw down of a 4 year old dealing with stress that no one other than me--i've been heaping on myself.
i begin thinking: this baby can come any day. things need to be ready. that means little cloth diapers prepped. basinette cleaned-with mattress cover and a fresh blanket. bags need to be packed, but not so packed that i cant find my supplies. things should be properly organized in the kitchen. the floors need to be scrubbed. the carpet needs swept once more. dont get me started on our yard...and THEN i start thinking about the possible complications that may occur at the hospital. with the baby...with me....and then it happens. i explode. i dont think. i dont stop. i dont mention these things that have been racing through my mind as i have silently counted and weighed and measureed each contraction i've felt that day. (was that one stronger? are they getting stronger? is this labor? what was that?? should i call someone?!)
i'm a time bomb that constantly reloads and explodes without warning. i often wonder how many times arnie has silently thought in his head "i did not sign up for this." he knows it would kill me to say. he knows i would melt into a breakdown. i dont mean to be this insane...but WOW does stress get to me. it's hard enough having one child eat a meal that could've easily been for 3 people- come up to you five minutes after eating it asking if they can have something else to eat....then add in a teething, moody 12 month old..who enjoys kicking while being changed...and then add to that bed rest to a type A person who likes, wants, and needs to be able to do things herself....and arnie has a perfect storm he's walking into as he comes home from work.
i feel like Clint Eastwood...a version anyway...as arnie walks in the door and i give him a look that says "go ahead...ask me how my day was. i DARE you. punk."
now if you read this far, please know, this isnt a rant, or a pity party for me. this is just a glimpse in the window at our lives right now...and how i am grateful that my spouse took his vows to heart when he repeated the words "in sickness and in health".
good times and bad...he's still here. putting up with my insanity. my life is a blessing every day. i am so very grateful to have to chance to be a mom to 3 children. but any mom can tell you it isnt easy and rarely is....so i'm keeping it real. being honest at this point in our lives. i am grateful today for all that i have. especially my husband.
this experience thus far has taught me to appreciate the smaller things in life. like being able to get up and do random things around the house. it has taught me to look at my husband in a new light because i am honest enough to admit that i am not an easy person to be around when under this much stress. i have learned that marriage is absolutely something you must work at because it is so very easy to just disconnect yourself from everything when you get down. i hope it is teaching our children the value of family and how you can depend on them to help you when you feel -and sometimes are- helpless.
as much as i complain about bedrest, i should be thankful for it as well. there's nothing like not being able to leave the house at random that will bring a family closer. everyone surrounding me on this couch to play board games, to read a book together, to watch a movie....
so the next time you attend a wedding and you hear those words "in sickness and in health"...think about the weight they truly carry. my experience, in truth, has been a light one. there are husbands and wives out there dealing with so much more weight than we are: cancer, war injuries, alzheimers...to name a few. the spouses who stick it out...they bring tears to my eyes. i dont think you could ever clearly put a full definition on Love, but i think it is spouses like mine and like the ones mentioned above that truly help define the word...and like my tattoo on my arm says: it (love) never fails.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
playing ball, God, and where the two shall meet
if you dont know me really well, then you probably dont know my love of sports, specifically, being involved, and especially playing sports. i've played softball since i was 4...standing far out in left field, an oversized glove on my hand, shagging flies for my brother- who could knock the cover off a ball.
from a very early age, my parents taught us the discipline of practice. spending warm days on ball fields taking batting practice, learning the fundamentals of pitching, fielding a ball, and making good throws. saturdays in the batting cages, learning bat speed and placement of a ball.
i know when i was there, there were days that i hated softball and wished i wasnt a "ball player" but now, i look back on every memory with warmness and fondness, and a wish that i could play back a full day of ball in my mind.
some people have a natural born ability to play ball. it takes little to get the fundamentals down, they do all aspects of ball with ease and smoothness that is usually envied. my brother and i are both natural born players. we never knew the struggle of not being able to make contact with a ball. we never felt the frustration of not knowing how to catch.
but still, we practiced at every opportunity...improving our skills. learning respect for the field...and always knowing that if you took your eyes off that ball, there was a good chance of getting burned.
i'm older now. ball still comes very naturally to me. there's nothing i love more than getting the opportunity to play in the sun, but it's not my life anymore. there are other priorities, other demands. but ball left me with one very, very important life lesson that i have never forgotten.
last Sunday, pastor Brian's sermon was about worry. something that eats at me a lot, especially right now, at this phase in my life. preterm labor is a very scary thing, especially when certain odds are stacked against you. but hearing that sermon, as if it were meant to be, gave me great comfort...and put me on the right track for stomping out my worry. it took me right back to my childhood and my days of practicing softball.
you see, when we messed up on the field, whether it was practice or a game, there were consequences. did you get an injury? clean it, bandage it, take care of it, but do not quit, do not give up. you'll only regret it.
did you pitch a bad game? you better believe you're going to spend an evening pitching into a tire or a bucket until you improve. didnt hit well? it's batting practice for you until hitting improves. there are always ways to improve where you're struggling.
it was like a light bulb finally went off in my head. i had been misunderstanding something for a very long while. you dont just "stop worrying". you dont just stop everything and "put it in God's hands". (these comments have always baffled me. we're human and worry seems to be a natural reaction. how in the world do you just.."stop"??!) ..you can do something to improve your situation.
so just as my brother and i did in ball, i dug in, and i have started 'practicing'. i look at what i'm worrying about. i ask myself, have i done *everything* i can possibly do to keep myself from the worst case scenario? if i havent, then that is my first step that day. if i have done everything i can personally do, then i take my practice somewhere else. to God. to prayer. to memory verses.
about worry
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"
Matthew 6:25-27 New International Version
"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble."
Psalm 46:1
"I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth."
Psalm 121:1-2
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart;
do not depend on your own understanding.
Seek his will in all you do,
and he will show you which path to take."
Proverbs 3:5-6
and i turn to memory verses on HOPE
"He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed,
miracles that cannot be counted."
Job 5:9
"Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."
Philippians 1:6
"So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
Isaiah 41:10
Jeremiah 29:11-14
from a very early age, my parents taught us the discipline of practice. spending warm days on ball fields taking batting practice, learning the fundamentals of pitching, fielding a ball, and making good throws. saturdays in the batting cages, learning bat speed and placement of a ball.
i know when i was there, there were days that i hated softball and wished i wasnt a "ball player" but now, i look back on every memory with warmness and fondness, and a wish that i could play back a full day of ball in my mind.
some people have a natural born ability to play ball. it takes little to get the fundamentals down, they do all aspects of ball with ease and smoothness that is usually envied. my brother and i are both natural born players. we never knew the struggle of not being able to make contact with a ball. we never felt the frustration of not knowing how to catch.
but still, we practiced at every opportunity...improving our skills. learning respect for the field...and always knowing that if you took your eyes off that ball, there was a good chance of getting burned.
i'm older now. ball still comes very naturally to me. there's nothing i love more than getting the opportunity to play in the sun, but it's not my life anymore. there are other priorities, other demands. but ball left me with one very, very important life lesson that i have never forgotten.
last Sunday, pastor Brian's sermon was about worry. something that eats at me a lot, especially right now, at this phase in my life. preterm labor is a very scary thing, especially when certain odds are stacked against you. but hearing that sermon, as if it were meant to be, gave me great comfort...and put me on the right track for stomping out my worry. it took me right back to my childhood and my days of practicing softball.
you see, when we messed up on the field, whether it was practice or a game, there were consequences. did you get an injury? clean it, bandage it, take care of it, but do not quit, do not give up. you'll only regret it.
did you pitch a bad game? you better believe you're going to spend an evening pitching into a tire or a bucket until you improve. didnt hit well? it's batting practice for you until hitting improves. there are always ways to improve where you're struggling.
it was like a light bulb finally went off in my head. i had been misunderstanding something for a very long while. you dont just "stop worrying". you dont just stop everything and "put it in God's hands". (these comments have always baffled me. we're human and worry seems to be a natural reaction. how in the world do you just.."stop"??!) ..you can do something to improve your situation.
so just as my brother and i did in ball, i dug in, and i have started 'practicing'. i look at what i'm worrying about. i ask myself, have i done *everything* i can possibly do to keep myself from the worst case scenario? if i havent, then that is my first step that day. if i have done everything i can personally do, then i take my practice somewhere else. to God. to prayer. to memory verses.
about worry
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"
Matthew 6:25-27 New International Version
"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble."
Psalm 46:1
"I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth."
Psalm 121:1-2
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart;
do not depend on your own understanding.
Seek his will in all you do,
and he will show you which path to take."
Proverbs 3:5-6
and i turn to memory verses on HOPE
"He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed,
miracles that cannot be counted."
Job 5:9
"Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."
Philippians 1:6
"So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
Isaiah 41:10
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."
John 14:27
John 14:27
You must understand that while i was given a natural born ability to play ball, i've never been great at being a 'good' follower of God. i worry a lot...which is sort of like a big slap in God's face. Faith is the heart beat of being following God. you have to learn to trust God through every piece of your life.
so knowing my struggles, i have used what my parents and coaches have taught me, and began to practice and ask for help....because how else will i improve? i know i cannot accomplish this on my own.
ball taught me so very much...and it easily transitions into becoming a better follower of God:
i must learn to *never* take my eyes off Him...for when i do, things fall apart, and i'm likely to get hurt....but even if get hurt, i shouldnt quit..i should never give up.(He didnt fail me, i did, i took my eyes off of Him) ..so when it happens, i need to turn back to the bible and prayer and practice.
and sometimes, no matter how hard you pray, no matter how well you've handled a situation, you can still fail...but that's okay. (you cant win them all..) you pick yourself up, and you learn from your loss. you become a better person because of your trials.
some may look at ball as something silly, even a waste of time...something that just passes the summer time as a child...but for me (and surely for my brother) we were given life lessons. something that has stayed with us, years after our glory days have passed.
i look back in wonder at my childhood. i had no idea what was being ingrained in me. it is amazing to see (in hindsight) God's plan rolling out your life and how He was forming you into the person He wanted you to become.
i am forever grateful for what i learned during my years in the dirt and with sun on my skin. it makes me excited to look at my children and know that these years, these summers in the sun, will not be just a time to pass...but life lessons building their hearts and minds into something much greater than we could ever hope for.
11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14
Psalm 139:13-16:
For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I
praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
what.are.you.having./gender.disappointment.
when that moment comes when you are finally visably pregnant, one of the first things out of many well wishers' mouthes is the question: what are you having? do you know what you're having? etc..
is it lack of other things to say? i mean, other than the obligatory congratulations, 'are you done after this one?', and the ever popular 'how are you feeling?'....there isnt very much else to really say.
the problem with this is that it creates so many mixed feelings. as a mom of 2, plus 1 angel baby, i'm already nervous enough. i'm a planner, which i am positive makes God laugh every day...but i cant really conquer that yet. i must plan. i must make plans.
so when in mid december, i jokingly took a pregnancy test, and only half glanced down, to shockingly find a positive result...my heart beat has never quite been the same.
secretly, i've always wanted a large family. yes, i know, society has this ENORMOUS tendency to judge that statement. people actually feel HATE towards big families like the Duggars. that's just scary to me. why is there so much judgement in the world over things that in NO WAY affect your life? we are far from rich. but we make concessions. we dont do "disposable". we save where ever we can. we freeze what we dont need right away. we stock pile certain necessities. and we are content. we are well fed. we go through hard times but it's never something that has affected the feelings or bellies of my family. i dont know God's plan for us, but i trust it, and our hearts are overflowing with love to give.
so from mid december on, i've been planning. i've had a serious case of the "what if's?"
my planning led to this reasoning: if we have another girl, we'll be in a fairly easy situation. we have TONS of pink clothes, pink toys, pink blankets, and dont get me started on hair bows. we are well supplied in pink baby stuff.
and for future thinking, this baby and Amelia would only be 1 year apart (if not less, given my preterm issues) which meant if they played ball, they would be on the same ball team--which meant Arnie and I could definitely manage summer ball)...and given the "what if" of the possibility of having another girl, being that close in age meant that ease would come with lots of things, not just summer ball.
so, in march, we scheduled a gender reveal ultrasound, and almost immediately, without the tech saying anything, i knew. one swipe on the ultrasound wand, i glanced non-girl parts. my husband might have saw the flicker in my eye because he then asked the tech if she knew the sex yet. she said she was trying to get a good picture and within seconds, it was confirmed. boy.
my heart jumped. planning-down the drain. now a whole new set of "what ifs" came about. more planning. lots more planning.
and then i stopped and took a breath. i looked at my husband. he was beaming. he was getting a son. his own mini me. i looked at Lily who was wiggling in the back seat of the tahoe. she was ecstatic. she was getting a brother.
screw planning. we've just been blessed in a crazy awesome way.
gender disappointment? i've read about it. i've watched as well wishers basically encouraged it (i've experienced it when we were having Amelia--people would ask- and we would say girl--and they would say..aww...well, are you going to try again?) ...but then those same folks--if an expectant mom would emote that she did feel a little let down at finding out the sex, it was an immediate shunning. well, healthy is what matters. you should be grateful. it's baffling to me that people who are NOT directly involved in your family can affect your emotions so much.
i feel for women who've truly experienced gender disappointment. how hard it must be to deal with your feelings (which is nearly impossible to explain-yes you are happy and grateful, but there's also a worry...a feeling of wondering if you'll ever have a baby boy/girl), the immediate guilt, AND the judgement of strangers who all feel the need to give you their opinion without so much as batting an eye at your feelings.
as someone who is pregnant, you're already dealing with TONS. no way should you have to deal with this crazy reverse ninja psychology.
so i still see hints of it with "well wishers" with us. someone asks what we are having and we say boy. i hesitate. it's taking me a while to get used to not refering to the baby as a she. so then i see a questioning in their eyes. arent you happy? of course i am! i'm still struggling with saying "boy". it's taking me a while! give me a break!
when i sit at home and Amelia is napping, i feel *him* move. i think ahead to his future (always lightly planning). i think about highschool and sports. (it seems different with a boy) going to ball games. what position will he play? will he love football? will we hear his name on the loudspeaker? i think about raising him to be a good man. one who treats women with respect, opening doors, lending jackets, saying mam and sir. i think of him with his sisters and the relationship i hope to nurture. my heart swells.
so when you see me sitting quietly, looking pensive and maybe a bit worried; know this: it isnt disappointment. it's planning. we have so much pink! i'm planning for baby buys, how many more cloth diapers i might need, so.. however small...i enjoy planning.
we recently had another ultrasound. Dr Lepi let us see *him* in 4d pictures. we saw *his* face. i'm in love all over again. i've never been more excited. a son. we're having a son! we cannot wait to meet him.
is it lack of other things to say? i mean, other than the obligatory congratulations, 'are you done after this one?', and the ever popular 'how are you feeling?'....there isnt very much else to really say.
the problem with this is that it creates so many mixed feelings. as a mom of 2, plus 1 angel baby, i'm already nervous enough. i'm a planner, which i am positive makes God laugh every day...but i cant really conquer that yet. i must plan. i must make plans.
so when in mid december, i jokingly took a pregnancy test, and only half glanced down, to shockingly find a positive result...my heart beat has never quite been the same.
secretly, i've always wanted a large family. yes, i know, society has this ENORMOUS tendency to judge that statement. people actually feel HATE towards big families like the Duggars. that's just scary to me. why is there so much judgement in the world over things that in NO WAY affect your life? we are far from rich. but we make concessions. we dont do "disposable". we save where ever we can. we freeze what we dont need right away. we stock pile certain necessities. and we are content. we are well fed. we go through hard times but it's never something that has affected the feelings or bellies of my family. i dont know God's plan for us, but i trust it, and our hearts are overflowing with love to give.
so from mid december on, i've been planning. i've had a serious case of the "what if's?"
my planning led to this reasoning: if we have another girl, we'll be in a fairly easy situation. we have TONS of pink clothes, pink toys, pink blankets, and dont get me started on hair bows. we are well supplied in pink baby stuff.
and for future thinking, this baby and Amelia would only be 1 year apart (if not less, given my preterm issues) which meant if they played ball, they would be on the same ball team--which meant Arnie and I could definitely manage summer ball)...and given the "what if" of the possibility of having another girl, being that close in age meant that ease would come with lots of things, not just summer ball.
so, in march, we scheduled a gender reveal ultrasound, and almost immediately, without the tech saying anything, i knew. one swipe on the ultrasound wand, i glanced non-girl parts. my husband might have saw the flicker in my eye because he then asked the tech if she knew the sex yet. she said she was trying to get a good picture and within seconds, it was confirmed. boy.
my heart jumped. planning-down the drain. now a whole new set of "what ifs" came about. more planning. lots more planning.
and then i stopped and took a breath. i looked at my husband. he was beaming. he was getting a son. his own mini me. i looked at Lily who was wiggling in the back seat of the tahoe. she was ecstatic. she was getting a brother.
screw planning. we've just been blessed in a crazy awesome way.
gender disappointment? i've read about it. i've watched as well wishers basically encouraged it (i've experienced it when we were having Amelia--people would ask- and we would say girl--and they would say..aww...well, are you going to try again?) ...but then those same folks--if an expectant mom would emote that she did feel a little let down at finding out the sex, it was an immediate shunning. well, healthy is what matters. you should be grateful. it's baffling to me that people who are NOT directly involved in your family can affect your emotions so much.
i feel for women who've truly experienced gender disappointment. how hard it must be to deal with your feelings (which is nearly impossible to explain-yes you are happy and grateful, but there's also a worry...a feeling of wondering if you'll ever have a baby boy/girl), the immediate guilt, AND the judgement of strangers who all feel the need to give you their opinion without so much as batting an eye at your feelings.
as someone who is pregnant, you're already dealing with TONS. no way should you have to deal with this crazy reverse ninja psychology.
so i still see hints of it with "well wishers" with us. someone asks what we are having and we say boy. i hesitate. it's taking me a while to get used to not refering to the baby as a she. so then i see a questioning in their eyes. arent you happy? of course i am! i'm still struggling with saying "boy". it's taking me a while! give me a break!
when i sit at home and Amelia is napping, i feel *him* move. i think ahead to his future (always lightly planning). i think about highschool and sports. (it seems different with a boy) going to ball games. what position will he play? will he love football? will we hear his name on the loudspeaker? i think about raising him to be a good man. one who treats women with respect, opening doors, lending jackets, saying mam and sir. i think of him with his sisters and the relationship i hope to nurture. my heart swells.
so when you see me sitting quietly, looking pensive and maybe a bit worried; know this: it isnt disappointment. it's planning. we have so much pink! i'm planning for baby buys, how many more cloth diapers i might need, so.. however small...i enjoy planning.
we recently had another ultrasound. Dr Lepi let us see *him* in 4d pictures. we saw *his* face. i'm in love all over again. i've never been more excited. a son. we're having a son! we cannot wait to meet him.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
black sheep
i am, self-admittedly, not a people person. i'm not a social girl. i'm not chatty cathy. i have an odd, ironic, and sarcastic sense of humor..that i'm sure can come off as rude...but i'm always careful (or i try to be) of other's feelings...and when i step on someone's feelings, it sends me reeling. i'm lost, embarassed, and heart broken that i've somehow hurt someone's feelings by stating my opinion. i rarely find the courage to say i'm sorry...which is bad.
but sometimes too, i feel like i can state my opinion on something, and it gets blown out of proportion. --i just want to say, "hey, this is what i said, it's my opinion, it was not, nor was it ever an attack on you. there is no need to hold a silent grudge!"
i have a sharp tongue. i'm trying very hard to control that and keep my mouth in check. i know i am doing better. but there is always room for improvement.
i have always, always felt like the black sheep of society. no matter where i've been, what's going on, i'm always on the edge of things. i dont see the need to be the center of anything and in the end, i end up sort of being left out- either by my own doing, or by just being left out and or unnoticed.
arnie is a social person. it makes me nervous, much more so when we first together, but i've gotten better, but i still have my moments where i instinctively want to grab his arm and yank him away from large groups of people. who in the world has THAT much to talk about?
i thought he would help me step out of my comfort zone...but instead, i seem to have dragged him into my world of edging the parties, not much to say, and avoiding the group.
i'm not stuck up...it's laughable to think i would think i'm better than anyone. i was not raised that way. i just dont socialize well.
i'm a homebody. i've read about moms who "need" me time. who need a girls' night. who have to get away from kid talk. ...that's not me. it actually stresses me out. i often joked in college, especially in psychology classes, about prison life being perfect for me: minimal human interaction, routine, and a little exercise. it doesnt bother me. solitary confinement (before i had the girls) doesnt even remotely scare me. it doesnt bother me to be alone and silent for hours or days. its comforting for me.
if i'm at home, just me and Amelia, i can "live dangerously" and have the radio on. i sing and dance and make Amelia giggle...but when Arnie and Lily get home, if he attempts to switch the radio to on, i hit the wall. NO. no more noise. it's not music to my ears then...it's just: noise. distraction. stress. especially if he turns the radio on and then tries to carry on a conversation with me. my eyes nearly fall out of my head. weird things like that stress me out.
so, now that i've shared that with you...something as simple as mutliple noises going on at once being a stresser...you can imagine what being in a group of people can do to me. ahh. multiple conversations...trying to be polite and respond to the correct person with more than a one word answer? ack.
i am very much a girl in need of quiet time.
that being said though, i'm sure some of you are thinking "well, good luck with 3 kids. you think it's noisy now...just wait."
that doesnt bother me. it's my kids. it's almost soothing. that noise? i'm not worried about it.
so yes, arnie and i often refer to ourselves as the black sheep in many, many situations. i often refer to it as the seperation of the classes...at which Arnie laughs. i'm used to it. i've seen it a lot. i know where and what i come from. we dont discuss whether Lily is going to get an iPad (she wont. to me, that is silly. if she wants something to do, i have books galore and a big yard to play in) we dont talk about remodeling (we make "improvements", but a full over-haul is beyond...well just beyond us) we never consider buying a vehicle (our tahoe is paid off--which is a HUGE accomplishment for us, and arnie has a 1991 ranger that we're hoping we can pay for the repairs needed in order to get it running again)
sometime, when you're around us, ask either one of us how old the glove is that we use for softball. arnie's, of course, beats mine by a few years (mine was a hand me down from my brother- and i've used it since tball)...the point is they both have many miles on them..and we take a little bit of pride in that. we talk to lily about this sort of thing and try to instill in her a sense to take care of things and make them last. not only is it frugal...but it gives everything a back story. makes things more interesting.
arnie's truck is a 91. that's the year he graduated high school. i was 9 years old the year that truck hit the road, and while i sometimes say i hate it, that truck has been wonderful and faithful to us and has only had minor issues and for that we are thankful.
now, there is absolutely *nothing* wrong with doing any of those things...remodeling, buying your kids an ipad, getting a new vehicle.. nothing!!! this is not an attack on anyone, and this is most certainly not an "i'm better than you" blog.
this stuff is just not "us". we dont relate to it...so we dont have anything to say about it. we cant sympathize or empathize. we just kind of awkwardly shrug our shoulders and hope for a conversation change.
i'm often made fun of, because i'm a hoarder of certain things. i go into "the great depression" mode. i save. i save, preserve, and i pack away. what was once wasteful is wasteful no more. we use, reuse, and use again until it falls apart (unless of course reuse=unsanitary. health is never sacraficed)
yes, i know most of this is our own doing, we try, but thanks to my awkwardness, neither one of us is one hundred percent sure what to do in many areas. so if you see us, skirting the edges, dont make the assumption we're snooty. haha..we are so very far from snooty. we're just a little weird...and defintely socially awkward--more so me, than arnie. i tend to drag him down the social ladder. :)
i dont worry too much, though. i know i'll always be worse than anyone else in the family. arnie will never be anywhere near my antisocial level and lily, well, lily is a social butterfly, whom we cannot get to stop talking.
i just wanted to make a statement and kind of..well..explain ourselves because i know when you dont jump right in and join a conversation, it can and will be taken the wrong way and we didnt want that to happen. we just tend to favor the less is more category.
but sometimes too, i feel like i can state my opinion on something, and it gets blown out of proportion. --i just want to say, "hey, this is what i said, it's my opinion, it was not, nor was it ever an attack on you. there is no need to hold a silent grudge!"
i have a sharp tongue. i'm trying very hard to control that and keep my mouth in check. i know i am doing better. but there is always room for improvement.
i have always, always felt like the black sheep of society. no matter where i've been, what's going on, i'm always on the edge of things. i dont see the need to be the center of anything and in the end, i end up sort of being left out- either by my own doing, or by just being left out and or unnoticed.
arnie is a social person. it makes me nervous, much more so when we first together, but i've gotten better, but i still have my moments where i instinctively want to grab his arm and yank him away from large groups of people. who in the world has THAT much to talk about?
i thought he would help me step out of my comfort zone...but instead, i seem to have dragged him into my world of edging the parties, not much to say, and avoiding the group.
i'm not stuck up...it's laughable to think i would think i'm better than anyone. i was not raised that way. i just dont socialize well.
i'm a homebody. i've read about moms who "need" me time. who need a girls' night. who have to get away from kid talk. ...that's not me. it actually stresses me out. i often joked in college, especially in psychology classes, about prison life being perfect for me: minimal human interaction, routine, and a little exercise. it doesnt bother me. solitary confinement (before i had the girls) doesnt even remotely scare me. it doesnt bother me to be alone and silent for hours or days. its comforting for me.
if i'm at home, just me and Amelia, i can "live dangerously" and have the radio on. i sing and dance and make Amelia giggle...but when Arnie and Lily get home, if he attempts to switch the radio to on, i hit the wall. NO. no more noise. it's not music to my ears then...it's just: noise. distraction. stress. especially if he turns the radio on and then tries to carry on a conversation with me. my eyes nearly fall out of my head. weird things like that stress me out.
so, now that i've shared that with you...something as simple as mutliple noises going on at once being a stresser...you can imagine what being in a group of people can do to me. ahh. multiple conversations...trying to be polite and respond to the correct person with more than a one word answer? ack.
i am very much a girl in need of quiet time.
that being said though, i'm sure some of you are thinking "well, good luck with 3 kids. you think it's noisy now...just wait."
that doesnt bother me. it's my kids. it's almost soothing. that noise? i'm not worried about it.
so yes, arnie and i often refer to ourselves as the black sheep in many, many situations. i often refer to it as the seperation of the classes...at which Arnie laughs. i'm used to it. i've seen it a lot. i know where and what i come from. we dont discuss whether Lily is going to get an iPad (she wont. to me, that is silly. if she wants something to do, i have books galore and a big yard to play in) we dont talk about remodeling (we make "improvements", but a full over-haul is beyond...well just beyond us) we never consider buying a vehicle (our tahoe is paid off--which is a HUGE accomplishment for us, and arnie has a 1991 ranger that we're hoping we can pay for the repairs needed in order to get it running again)
sometime, when you're around us, ask either one of us how old the glove is that we use for softball. arnie's, of course, beats mine by a few years (mine was a hand me down from my brother- and i've used it since tball)...the point is they both have many miles on them..and we take a little bit of pride in that. we talk to lily about this sort of thing and try to instill in her a sense to take care of things and make them last. not only is it frugal...but it gives everything a back story. makes things more interesting.
arnie's truck is a 91. that's the year he graduated high school. i was 9 years old the year that truck hit the road, and while i sometimes say i hate it, that truck has been wonderful and faithful to us and has only had minor issues and for that we are thankful.
now, there is absolutely *nothing* wrong with doing any of those things...remodeling, buying your kids an ipad, getting a new vehicle.. nothing!!! this is not an attack on anyone, and this is most certainly not an "i'm better than you" blog.
this stuff is just not "us". we dont relate to it...so we dont have anything to say about it. we cant sympathize or empathize. we just kind of awkwardly shrug our shoulders and hope for a conversation change.
i'm often made fun of, because i'm a hoarder of certain things. i go into "the great depression" mode. i save. i save, preserve, and i pack away. what was once wasteful is wasteful no more. we use, reuse, and use again until it falls apart (unless of course reuse=unsanitary. health is never sacraficed)
yes, i know most of this is our own doing, we try, but thanks to my awkwardness, neither one of us is one hundred percent sure what to do in many areas. so if you see us, skirting the edges, dont make the assumption we're snooty. haha..we are so very far from snooty. we're just a little weird...and defintely socially awkward--more so me, than arnie. i tend to drag him down the social ladder. :)
i dont worry too much, though. i know i'll always be worse than anyone else in the family. arnie will never be anywhere near my antisocial level and lily, well, lily is a social butterfly, whom we cannot get to stop talking.
i just wanted to make a statement and kind of..well..explain ourselves because i know when you dont jump right in and join a conversation, it can and will be taken the wrong way and we didnt want that to happen. we just tend to favor the less is more category.
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