It began last Thursday. No, Wednesday. Wednesday night, Dad painted the kitchen in preparation for the new floor in the kitchen and dining room. Our dining room is really our school room. Every child has a cubby and a shelf where they keep all their school books and things. We moved everything from the kitchen and dining room to the living room, including the fridge and the first floor toilet, and moved to the attic for a couple days.
The next thing that happened is that people started to get sick. In particular, the three big kids were sick and all had a paper to write from the same reading material and a test to take and speeches to give. There were places to go or not, decisions to make (in some cases I made the wrong one).
But then there were the particulars of what kind of sick everyone was. There were fevers, there was coughing, there were people laying around everywhere. And then the smallest of people had the kind of sickness that requires diaper and pants to be changed every few minutes. 3 people, non stop liquid nasty down the leg.
So no one can find anything, everyone laying around coughing, some puking, fevering, down the legging, and then the dad got sick. And he's pretty much dead with fever. Completely incapacitated. And then the dishwasher broke. Again.
Did I mention that I ordered the wrong amount of flooring in the smallish not enough kind of way? Linear footage or something. So it didn't get done, and all the upside downishness never got undone. I still have a fridge and toilet in the living room.
I am desperately clinging to my health. There are only 2 of us, out of 15, who have not been sick yet. If I can just hold on till the dad and big kids feel all better, that will be a win for our team. And if we can get through the Awana games without giving our horrible sickness to our teammates. And it is so hard to eat any thing like healthy when all the helpful people are sick and all the stuff we can't find and the nasty gross diapers to change and the mostly dead hubby to care for. I am absolutely certain that a pbj or a cookie would solve all these problems. Ok, that isn't true. But it is truly hard to eat right on a hard day, or for a week full of hard days.
Bright spot: one of my sons says, "Mom, how can I help you?" Don't be impressed. It is on his chore chart to ask that. I say, "Can you get a towel and dry off these pans and put them away." I forgot to say DISH towel. I also forgot to say CLEAN towel. Oh well. So I washed them again. :)
Friday, March 15, 2013
Brilliance
Today is a special day for me.
I am celebrating a child's birthday. My second son. This is the day I became the mother of sons. Boys. I remember sitting on the couch in sheer ecstacy, watching March Madness WITH MY SONS. (I'm from Indiana. That means basketball. I rarely get to, but always enjoy watching college hoop in the early spring.)
But it goes way beyond that. Today I celebrate the beginning of trusting. The beginning of letting go. The beginning of knowing that what God wants and has for me far supercedes anything I could have imagined.
It is in the Word of God, so I don't know why it surprised me: Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we can ask or think ...
Anyway. I had a plan. The number of kids, the spacing. This child's arrival put the final nail in the coffin of my carefully thought out plan for the future. In a good way. In the best possible way.
In the movie, Hook, there is a line that I like to quote when I think about my children and family planning: What would the world be like without Captain Hook?
What would the world be like without this boy? This expressive, funny, thoughtful, know-it-all boy. This fantastic treasure of blue-eyed, freckled, boy-becoming-man full of passion and thought and opinion and strength and heart. He is simply magnificent in every way. What if I had said no? What if I had had my way and skipped that particular batch of sperm and waited until a less overwhelmed season of life? I would have missed this amazing human, this beautiful soul.
Am I saying people should just throw 'caution' to the wind?
Yes! If you have faith for it. If your body isn't broken. If you are willing to take God at His Word, call every child a blessing, (if you are MARRIED), if you are willing to work hard and let go of what the world values for the sake of what God calls good.
Because this is what I celebrate on March 15th. I have in my world a spectacular son that I would have chosen not to have, and God gave him to me anyway, and I could not be more thankful. And we have received in the years since then, 10 such extravagant bestowments, 10 more wonderful gifts.
I know what you are saying, or at least I could guess.
"You must really love children."
"You have more patience than I do."
"I don't have enough money."
"I wouldn't be able to be a good enough parent for more kids."
I do love MY children. Who doesn't?
My patience has increased, by the grace of God, with each child's arrival. The person I was 10 years ago would not have made it through this past week.
I don't have enough money to do everything I want, but God provides everything I NEED.
Again, I would say, if you say yes to the Lord, every day, He gives you everything you need to do everything He gives you to do.
I know it is a crazy idea. But for evidence, I present to you this day, my second son, my lefty, my stunning, handsome, bellicose, cocky, wreckless, crazy, compassionate, eavesdropping, nibnosing, worshiping, writing, dancing, drumming, constantly learning and fact spouting son.
I could go on for days about this boy. About each of them. Because he is so unique, so special. But so are the other 12.
Will we have more? Oh, I hope so. More of this exquisite deliciousness. More of this brilliance. Because I don't know what I would be missing if I were ever to say no to the Giver of gifts, and He does know. I can trust Him.
Happy Birthday 3rd Blessing.
I am celebrating a child's birthday. My second son. This is the day I became the mother of sons. Boys. I remember sitting on the couch in sheer ecstacy, watching March Madness WITH MY SONS. (I'm from Indiana. That means basketball. I rarely get to, but always enjoy watching college hoop in the early spring.)
But it goes way beyond that. Today I celebrate the beginning of trusting. The beginning of letting go. The beginning of knowing that what God wants and has for me far supercedes anything I could have imagined.
It is in the Word of God, so I don't know why it surprised me: Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we can ask or think ...
Anyway. I had a plan. The number of kids, the spacing. This child's arrival put the final nail in the coffin of my carefully thought out plan for the future. In a good way. In the best possible way.
In the movie, Hook, there is a line that I like to quote when I think about my children and family planning: What would the world be like without Captain Hook?
What would the world be like without this boy? This expressive, funny, thoughtful, know-it-all boy. This fantastic treasure of blue-eyed, freckled, boy-becoming-man full of passion and thought and opinion and strength and heart. He is simply magnificent in every way. What if I had said no? What if I had had my way and skipped that particular batch of sperm and waited until a less overwhelmed season of life? I would have missed this amazing human, this beautiful soul.
Am I saying people should just throw 'caution' to the wind?
Yes! If you have faith for it. If your body isn't broken. If you are willing to take God at His Word, call every child a blessing, (if you are MARRIED), if you are willing to work hard and let go of what the world values for the sake of what God calls good.
Because this is what I celebrate on March 15th. I have in my world a spectacular son that I would have chosen not to have, and God gave him to me anyway, and I could not be more thankful. And we have received in the years since then, 10 such extravagant bestowments, 10 more wonderful gifts.
I know what you are saying, or at least I could guess.
"You must really love children."
"You have more patience than I do."
"I don't have enough money."
"I wouldn't be able to be a good enough parent for more kids."
I do love MY children. Who doesn't?
My patience has increased, by the grace of God, with each child's arrival. The person I was 10 years ago would not have made it through this past week.
I don't have enough money to do everything I want, but God provides everything I NEED.
Again, I would say, if you say yes to the Lord, every day, He gives you everything you need to do everything He gives you to do.
I know it is a crazy idea. But for evidence, I present to you this day, my second son, my lefty, my stunning, handsome, bellicose, cocky, wreckless, crazy, compassionate, eavesdropping, nibnosing, worshiping, writing, dancing, drumming, constantly learning and fact spouting son.
I could go on for days about this boy. About each of them. Because he is so unique, so special. But so are the other 12.
Will we have more? Oh, I hope so. More of this exquisite deliciousness. More of this brilliance. Because I don't know what I would be missing if I were ever to say no to the Giver of gifts, and He does know. I can trust Him.
Happy Birthday 3rd Blessing.
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
Milestone
I weighed less this morning than I have in more than 17 years. It's still not that impressive. I am still, I think, considered morbidly obese. Just over five feet tall and just under two hundred pounds is nothing to brag about, to be sure. But better is good. Less is better than staying the same and WAY better than gaining. Do I feel good? Yes, but I'm still really overweight. It's ok. But I am.
It is hard to imagine thin, hard to picture me that way. I study myself in the mirror now, marveling at my collar bones, trying to find the rest of my neck. The good news is that kids are already used to the nearly 60 pounds less version of me. Old (fat) pictures of me already look wrong to them. That's cool, because maybe the littles won't remember a fat mom at all.
I have ideas about what I'll do when... One thing I want to do is have a "Hundred Pounds" party, and invite everybody I know to come and bring a healthy food to share. But that's still 42 lbs away. In the mean time, I'm about to passing another milestone and I'm not sure how to celebrate. An extra smoothie, perhaps? I don't like shopping, so buying new clothes is more punishment than reward.
I am celebrating with thankfulness, that's for sure. Thankful for my sisters, encouraging me, friends supporting me, husband and older children putting up with my moods and inconsistencies, and especially the steadfast love of the Lord, which never ceases.
So here's to another quart jar of green slime, another bowl full of cold vegetables on a chilly winter day, a comforting bowl of soup that hits the spot that used to be hit by a cheeseburger, a cup of tea that smells better than it tastes, and a piece of thawed out carrot cake that really is completely good for me, and is also completely delicious. Thanks God for good food to eat, the money to buy it, the time to make it, and the good it's doing my body. Help me lean on You more tomorrow than I did today. Amen.
It is hard to imagine thin, hard to picture me that way. I study myself in the mirror now, marveling at my collar bones, trying to find the rest of my neck. The good news is that kids are already used to the nearly 60 pounds less version of me. Old (fat) pictures of me already look wrong to them. That's cool, because maybe the littles won't remember a fat mom at all.
I have ideas about what I'll do when... One thing I want to do is have a "Hundred Pounds" party, and invite everybody I know to come and bring a healthy food to share. But that's still 42 lbs away. In the mean time, I'm about to passing another milestone and I'm not sure how to celebrate. An extra smoothie, perhaps? I don't like shopping, so buying new clothes is more punishment than reward.
I am celebrating with thankfulness, that's for sure. Thankful for my sisters, encouraging me, friends supporting me, husband and older children putting up with my moods and inconsistencies, and especially the steadfast love of the Lord, which never ceases.
So here's to another quart jar of green slime, another bowl full of cold vegetables on a chilly winter day, a comforting bowl of soup that hits the spot that used to be hit by a cheeseburger, a cup of tea that smells better than it tastes, and a piece of thawed out carrot cake that really is completely good for me, and is also completely delicious. Thanks God for good food to eat, the money to buy it, the time to make it, and the good it's doing my body. Help me lean on You more tomorrow than I did today. Amen.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
What I ate to live today:
So I have had like 3 successful days in a row, therefore I'm feeling cocky enough to pretend like I know something about this Eat To Live journey that somebody might want to read. Here's what I ate today:
For breakfast I had a smoothie, and I admit I'm in a rut with this. 3/4 c unsweetened almond milk (Trader Joe's is the cheapest), 3/4 cup pomegranate plum juice (on sale at Aldi), half a bag (5 oz) spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit (strawberries, blueberries, peaches, mixed, whatever), and a banana. I'm out of flax, or I would put that in as well. It's ugly, it's green, it's huge and I eat the whole thing.
For lunch, I had a bowl of my Montreal (cuz I use Montreal Steak seasoning) vegetable beef soup, minus the beef. Green beans, black beans, corn, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, onion, celery, your basic clean-the-fridge, never the same pot twice kind of soup. I also ate a full bowl of Eldest's version of Broccoli Raisin salad, which isn't NEARLY as good without the bacon.
For a snack I had grape nuts with strawberries, blueberries, hemp seed and sliced almonds, and unsweetened almond milk. Yum.
And for supper, it's a Southwestish kind of salad: a huge bowl of romaine, pinto beans (with cayenne and garlic powder), black olives, orange bell pepper, and dressing made with rotel, onion and avocado. Pretty spectacular, huh.
About half the things I make don't work very well and either have to be adjusted, suffered through, or pitched. I hate to throw away healthy, expensive food. I am working out the kinks. But the more I do it right, the better it tastes and feels.
For breakfast I had a smoothie, and I admit I'm in a rut with this. 3/4 c unsweetened almond milk (Trader Joe's is the cheapest), 3/4 cup pomegranate plum juice (on sale at Aldi), half a bag (5 oz) spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit (strawberries, blueberries, peaches, mixed, whatever), and a banana. I'm out of flax, or I would put that in as well. It's ugly, it's green, it's huge and I eat the whole thing.
For lunch, I had a bowl of my Montreal (cuz I use Montreal Steak seasoning) vegetable beef soup, minus the beef. Green beans, black beans, corn, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, onion, celery, your basic clean-the-fridge, never the same pot twice kind of soup. I also ate a full bowl of Eldest's version of Broccoli Raisin salad, which isn't NEARLY as good without the bacon.
For a snack I had grape nuts with strawberries, blueberries, hemp seed and sliced almonds, and unsweetened almond milk. Yum.
And for supper, it's a Southwestish kind of salad: a huge bowl of romaine, pinto beans (with cayenne and garlic powder), black olives, orange bell pepper, and dressing made with rotel, onion and avocado. Pretty spectacular, huh.
About half the things I make don't work very well and either have to be adjusted, suffered through, or pitched. I hate to throw away healthy, expensive food. I am working out the kinks. But the more I do it right, the better it tastes and feels.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Terrible Two
Today my sixth son is 2. He goes by many variations on his name, but mostly I call him Buddy. He has straight blond hair, "moonblinked" blue eyes (from the owl Guardians movie which I have not seen) and today, bright pink cheeks to go with his birthday fever.
His favorite song, the only one he sings, is Happy Birthday. He just sings, "Happy, happy, happy." So it's good that today it really is his birthday. We have had a big snow storm here and were not able to get the presents we waited till the last minute to buy, so sometime today I'll send some big kids scrounging to the attic with the goal of finding some toys he would like but hasn't noticed yet.
And I now have 2 two year olds. They've been 2 for a while, for all practucal purposes, due to the monkeyseemonkeydo factor. And it dawned on me yesterday, again, that concept that has risen to the surface a number of times over the years: if I want to get pregnant again and have more children (and I do) I really ought to stop complaining about the ones I have. Even more, if I honestly want the Lord to give me twins in my old age (and I do) I should stop whining about my 2 Twos.
So this is my rejoicing over the screaming, furniture-markering, diaper-removing, fighting, compulsive-dancing, food-throwing, knee-deep-in-cuteness existence of my too terribly 2 Twos.
Happy, happy, happy, happy!
His favorite song, the only one he sings, is Happy Birthday. He just sings, "Happy, happy, happy." So it's good that today it really is his birthday. We have had a big snow storm here and were not able to get the presents we waited till the last minute to buy, so sometime today I'll send some big kids scrounging to the attic with the goal of finding some toys he would like but hasn't noticed yet.
And I now have 2 two year olds. They've been 2 for a while, for all practucal purposes, due to the monkeyseemonkeydo factor. And it dawned on me yesterday, again, that concept that has risen to the surface a number of times over the years: if I want to get pregnant again and have more children (and I do) I really ought to stop complaining about the ones I have. Even more, if I honestly want the Lord to give me twins in my old age (and I do) I should stop whining about my 2 Twos.
So this is my rejoicing over the screaming, furniture-markering, diaper-removing, fighting, compulsive-dancing, food-throwing, knee-deep-in-cuteness existence of my too terribly 2 Twos.
Happy, happy, happy, happy!
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Sick babies, big kids
Sick babies
Hot
Feverish
Crabby
Snuggley
Coughing
Snotty
Spitting
Thirsty
Whiney
Sad
Tired
Clingy
Grumpy
Sweet
Sick
Babies
Big kids
Worried
Hormonal
Nervous
Depressed
Focused
Distracted
Happy
Sad
Studying
Practicing
Gone
Excited
Goofy
Argumentative
Angry
Forgiving
Tender
Big
Kids
The greatness and agony of my life right now lies in the straddling of these two parallel universes. The small, sick, sad, needy and the big, nervous, emotional needy. The middle kids don't need as much. In fact, they'd just as soon be left alone, so they can play chess or clay or put a half cup of sugar in their tea, avoiding school and chores like the plague, brandishing wooden swords and light sabers and nerf guns with no ammo but still deemed effective because they make that cool poof! sound when you pull the trigger. But the smalls want held and the bigs want to practice their speeches. Little cries and long stories both claim my ears and brain cells. And I don't mind. There's nowhere I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather do. Except maybe fold laundry.
Hot
Feverish
Crabby
Snuggley
Coughing
Snotty
Spitting
Thirsty
Whiney
Sad
Tired
Clingy
Grumpy
Sweet
Sick
Babies
Big kids
Worried
Hormonal
Nervous
Depressed
Focused
Distracted
Happy
Sad
Studying
Practicing
Gone
Excited
Goofy
Argumentative
Angry
Forgiving
Tender
Big
Kids
The greatness and agony of my life right now lies in the straddling of these two parallel universes. The small, sick, sad, needy and the big, nervous, emotional needy. The middle kids don't need as much. In fact, they'd just as soon be left alone, so they can play chess or clay or put a half cup of sugar in their tea, avoiding school and chores like the plague, brandishing wooden swords and light sabers and nerf guns with no ammo but still deemed effective because they make that cool poof! sound when you pull the trigger. But the smalls want held and the bigs want to practice their speeches. Little cries and long stories both claim my ears and brain cells. And I don't mind. There's nowhere I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather do. Except maybe fold laundry.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
On feeling inadequate
Ways I feel inadequate today:
My oldest child has a broken toe, I'm pretty sure. She didn't want to go in when the youngest had a checkup yesterday, and I didn't make her. The doctor said you don't have to bring her in unless the toe is crooked. Well, it is. It is also purplish gray an inch into her foot. But the same toe on the other foot is crooked too, I think the same way. I feel inadequate because I don't know if I should take her in and because I'm pretty sure they can't do anything to fix it.
My youngest daughter ate a cough drop tonight, but for a few frightening moments I was afraid she had drunk half a bottle of benedryl. She came to me with a cough medicine smell on her breath and a sticky hand with the same smell. Scary. I'm imagining ipicac and stomach pumping and trying to keep her awake. S'ok, just a cough drop. But that's where I went.
I feel like my babies' skin does better with disposables, plus I'm about a decade behind on laundry, so I have a whole supply of cloth diapers I'm just storing right now. And I feel bad about that, inadequate.
My children have been listening to Adventures in Odyssey and my husband has been Netflixing The West Wing, both of which (along with ALL television/movies/radio drama/plays/commercials) I cannot handle the suspense of, so I feel emotionally manipulated and not myself. I know it is all made up, but tv stresses me out.
I did about a B- job of eating the way I want to today. There are just honestly moments that I want comfort from food, and even though my comfort is in the Lord, sometimes I forget. And sometimes I make poor choices. It is especially hard to resist the healthyish but not completely beneficial to me food that I make for my kids, things like chocolate whole wheat chia seed zucchini bread and chocolatecoveredkatie.com's totally addictive cornbread.
My baby did not gain the weight my doc and I thought he should since his last check up. This hasn't happened to me in about 7 kids, and even though I've learned a lot since then, part of me just wants to give up and do the bottle thing. On the other hand, if he is the last baby I have, I'd hate to have quit nursing early without a fight.
Fifth daughter has a cough I can't help with, the kind a 3 yr old gets that would be so much better if she just knew how to cough and wasn't afraid to do it, but instead just keeps coughing and puking because she doesn't know how yet. I wish I could cough for her.
Little physical things wear down a mom's confidence, her feeling of 'all's well'. Little character things, lack of discipline, fights between siblings, unforgiveness, do the same.
And I'm back in that place of mistaken identity where I think being a good mom (or wife or human) is about how healthy or diligent or kind my kids are or how organized or thin I am, when in reality, my value is something calculated in the eyes of the One who formed me.
That He can love me and cherish me in that Psalm 139 kind of way, having searched me and known me, my down sitting and my uprising, being intimately acquainted with all my ways, knowing my words, thoughts, actions, and days before there is yet one of them, that escapes me. I spend my life trying desperately to earn love and acceptance THAT I ALREADY HAVE.
I have laughingly considered (laughing because of how very angry it would make my mother) getting a tattoo across the knuckles of my right hand, in Hebrew, "Belonging to the Lord". Isaiah 44 - poplars that spring up like grass, with resiliance, saying belonging to the Lord, written on their hands.
Ok, I'm not getting a tattoo on my hand. But I wish it was written there, to help me remember that before and after and in the midst of everything else, I am His.
What I say, what I do, what I eat and drink and feel. He is intimately acquainted with all my ways. My soul knows it very well.
All to Jesus I surrender
All to Him I freely give
I will ever love and trust Him
In His presence daily live
I surrender all
I surrender all
All to Thee my blesses Savior
I surrender all
Friday, February 15, 2013
For the record,
I have never wanted to be pregnant more. It's that whole biological clock ticking thing, I guess, knowing that all women eventually stop getting pregnant. And being near as some of my dearest friends have lost or are losing babies. And saying goodbye to a friend who finished her race. Life seems so precious and fragile and incredibly desirable/priceless/indescribably wanted - having trouble really saying what I mean to say.
Because I still cherish the 'yes' and the 'no'. If I never conceive again, or if I never give birth again, I am completely and entirely thankful and content and so glad He has been in charge, without contest, for much of my fertile life. I have obviously nothing to complain of.
I just want to go on record as saying that if there is ever to be another person for us sometime, that would be even more wonderful, if that's possible, than all the previous 13, because, I don't know. Because He doesn't HAVE to. He doesn't have to give me anything. He doesn't have to bless me anymore. And if He did, does, would, if, well, yeah, I'm just saying that would be indescribably marvelous.
Because I still cherish the 'yes' and the 'no'. If I never conceive again, or if I never give birth again, I am completely and entirely thankful and content and so glad He has been in charge, without contest, for much of my fertile life. I have obviously nothing to complain of.
I just want to go on record as saying that if there is ever to be another person for us sometime, that would be even more wonderful, if that's possible, than all the previous 13, because, I don't know. Because He doesn't HAVE to. He doesn't have to give me anything. He doesn't have to bless me anymore. And if He did, does, would, if, well, yeah, I'm just saying that would be indescribably marvelous.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
To err is human, to forgive is . . .
a really, really good idea.
Here's why. When you do not forgive, it's like saying to the enemy (and there is one) please come in and mess up my heart really bad. You give the enemy a foothold. Picture a rock climbing wall. The little knobby things you step on - those are footholds. How hard would it be to climb the wall if those weren't there? Hard. If someone were trying to come in the back door and it was closed and locked, it would be hard to come in, right? But if the door was open and someone had their foot in it, a foothold, how much easier would it be? Way easier, right?
We have a real enemy who comes to steal and kill and destroy. The enemy seeks to divide us and drag us off (in unforgiveness) and make us feel depressed and alone. The enemy wants us to take sad or hard things that happen to us, accidentally or on purpose, and dwell on them, and rehearse them, and believe they represent how people and God have and always will let us down.
When we get hurt, and we do, and we will, and if you haven't, let me be the first to warn you that it will happen, we have an opportunity to choose what to do with that pain. We can say, "Jesus, this hurts. Will You please heal me and help me forgive and flood this pain with Your great love for me?" (and then He says YES! every time) OR we can think on it and practice what we would have said and what we will say next time and notice the similarity between this pain and that other pain I felt the last 37 times something sort of similar to this happened and carefully close off the part of heart that got messed up so it WILL NOT GET HURT THAT WAY AGAIN. Not saying don't have boundaries or use wisdom or cross the street with eyes closed carrying lucky cricket. Not saying that. But we have a choice. And when we choose to hold on to the pain instead of asking and letting God help us forgive, we issue an open invitation to the enemy of Jesus and us to come and make himself quite comfortable in our lives. And it just goes downhill from there.
I had a conversation like the above one with my most emotional kids this morning, when they were already at each others' throats before 8:30 a.m. on VALENTINE'S DAY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. It stemmed from another conversation I had with a friend about where so&so was and how so&so is doing and realizing how many so&so's go away hurt, and thinking, geez, what is it we (the church/body of Christ) are doing, hurting so many people so bad? Well we bump into each other a lot. That's true. But we are just a bunch of redeemed sinners, we're bound to bump into each other. And when I look at some of what we did, hurting each other, I'm not so sure I'd have the wisdom to do it differently if I was walking through it again.
Anyway, I am trying to train my humans to forgive. To have mercy. To bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things. To keep no record of wrongs. Crap like that. Kindness. Kindness is on her tongue. (me, the proverbs 31 woman) I try, from birth, to build love into their relationships with each other.
And I realized, in the aforementioned conversation (it was a great talk), that this marvelous life we have that we did not initially choose (remember my initial plan of 4 kids spaced 3 years apart?) is wonderful in a way I don't think I had figured. Our children have a great fall back system for when things get tough in relationships in the future. Duh, right? My friend explained to me that for him, with just one sister, when his friends made unwise decisions, and he had to take a stand, it was just him - he was alone in it. But my children have each other. Not only for accountability, but also for support. They watch out for each other and stand watch over each other. They guard and buffer.
That is, if I can teach them not to accuse and kill each other.
***
In other news.
I went to the OB today, for that followup checkup that is supposed to happen when baby is 6 weeks old, 'cept that he's 6 months old. I mostly went because I think I broke or fractured or injured my tailbone giving birth, and needed to have him confirm that yeah I probably did and there isn't a dang thing he can do about it. That was confirmed. We also chatted about how statistically I'm past the age of getting pregnant easily, but that God can do anything, look at Sarah and Elizabeth. They were glad to see me and are cheering for me, hoping I'll be back again soon. And I was oh so close to being under the 200 lb weight on the scale. If only my appointment had been in the morning. Or if I had pooped first.
***
I have been pondering, again, getting off the fence in my feeble compromised Nazarite fast and really giving the Lord what I think He wants. I don't want to make a rash vow, like King Saul, "nobody gets any food till we win this battle". Yeah, that was a great idea. I don't want to do that. I don't want to promise something I can't deliver. And the line is really hard to draw. Caffeine, is, well it is pretty simple. Sort of. Not hard coffee. But what about decaf? What about white tea or green tea or chai? What about chocolate - like come cocoa powder in my smoothie? Then there's sugar. Okay, not white sugar. Or brown. But how about honey or pure maple syrup? What about artificial sweeteners? How about agave? Do I eat fruit sweetened things? Fruit juice? You see what I mean? It simply isn't as simple as smoking or not smoking, drinking or not drinking.
But this is what I think God wants, and therefore what I want. I want to not eat the things that are addictive for me. The things that I cannot stop eating once I start. But I have really struggled with how to make that work, from a health perspective, and from a coping perspective. Those are things like: bread, waffles, pancakes, white rice, anything chocolate, most dairy, anything with sugar or artificial sweetener.
I am excited about that Eat to Live book because I feel there is wisdom from God for me in it. It seems to me that the Lord is saying to me, like He said to Adam and Eve, "Here I am giving you all these things to eat, just don't eat from this tree." He has given me all the same things He gave them. He even says, in Proverbs, if you find honey, don't eat too much of it. But I can eat as much as I want of fruits, veggies, beans, and some nuts and seeds and grains (brown rice and steel cut oats are cool). There is freedom in that way of eating, and that way is also, according to all kinds of studies (describe in Fuhrman's book) the very healthiest way to eat. It makes sense - that is what they ate in the garden, and that is the way that studies have shown best prevents the diseases people in wealthy countries die from. In poorer places, people die because their water is not clean or they don't have adequate medical care or enough to eat. But they are eating the right stuff, so they don't die of the stuff that kills us. In wealthier places, we choose to eat what isn't as good for us because it tastes good, is more convenient and we can afford it. We don't die of the stuff that kills them because we have clean water and good medical care. But if we ate the stuff they eat, fruits and veggies and plant products, we could have the best of both worlds, clean water, good medical care, AND healthy food and bodies.
Today is Valentine's Day. I made monkey bread for my kids for breakfast. I had a smoothie (soy milk, pomegranate juice, half a bag spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit, an apple somebody took a couple bites out of and left for dead, a tbs cocoa powder in honor of Saint Valentine, and some vanilla). For lunch I had a gynormous salad (3 kinds of lettuce, kidney beans, walnuts, almonds, yellow bell pepper, shredded carrot (which sort of reminds me of cheese), celery, tomato, broccoli, and Trader Joe's greek dressing). And for dinner we went to my favorite Indian restaurant, where I had chai, veggie palak on rice and naan. And then I shared a sugar free (Simply Lite) chocolate bar from Trader Joe's (in my opinion the best sugar free chocolate) with my valentine.
There were some Valentine style splurges there. But mostly I'll be doing the smoothie, soup, and salad existence. I won't be hungry. I will be satisfied with Jesus and with the food He has given me.
***
This is some of the stuff I haven't been writing about. Sorry for slacking. I just haven't had time. One of my dishwashers is busted (just a couple weeks past the one year warranty - they said I could extend it for $250, OR I CAN BUY ANOTHER DISHWASHER) and my Laundry Pure croaked, still under warranty, so we're washing clothes with soap and hot water again, and guess what?! The clothes are not cleaner, they just smell like soap now. The Laundry Pure really does a better job, I am convinced of it now. I think mine died because of being a refurb. Or maybe because we do a normal family's decade's worth of laundry in 6 months. Anyway, they were very gracious, and I look forward to having it back.
Also, my washer has been on the fritz, stopping half way through a load, and then my 8 and 9 year old laundry helpers put a load of dripping wet clothes and blankets in the dryer and it takes 3 cycles of dryer time to get those dry and ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom, we're grotesquely behind on laundry. Wretched. And I'm still not unpacked completely from two road trips ago.
Another thing taking up a lot of time is all this salad making and cooking I'm trying to do. Making oatmeal and pancakes and homemade stuff takes so much more time than cereal and chicken nuggets. But, I think it's worth it.
***
Okay, I'm feeling somewhat caught up. Do you feel better? I'll try to keep up a little better. Thanks for reading.
Here's why. When you do not forgive, it's like saying to the enemy (and there is one) please come in and mess up my heart really bad. You give the enemy a foothold. Picture a rock climbing wall. The little knobby things you step on - those are footholds. How hard would it be to climb the wall if those weren't there? Hard. If someone were trying to come in the back door and it was closed and locked, it would be hard to come in, right? But if the door was open and someone had their foot in it, a foothold, how much easier would it be? Way easier, right?
We have a real enemy who comes to steal and kill and destroy. The enemy seeks to divide us and drag us off (in unforgiveness) and make us feel depressed and alone. The enemy wants us to take sad or hard things that happen to us, accidentally or on purpose, and dwell on them, and rehearse them, and believe they represent how people and God have and always will let us down.
When we get hurt, and we do, and we will, and if you haven't, let me be the first to warn you that it will happen, we have an opportunity to choose what to do with that pain. We can say, "Jesus, this hurts. Will You please heal me and help me forgive and flood this pain with Your great love for me?" (and then He says YES! every time) OR we can think on it and practice what we would have said and what we will say next time and notice the similarity between this pain and that other pain I felt the last 37 times something sort of similar to this happened and carefully close off the part of heart that got messed up so it WILL NOT GET HURT THAT WAY AGAIN. Not saying don't have boundaries or use wisdom or cross the street with eyes closed carrying lucky cricket. Not saying that. But we have a choice. And when we choose to hold on to the pain instead of asking and letting God help us forgive, we issue an open invitation to the enemy of Jesus and us to come and make himself quite comfortable in our lives. And it just goes downhill from there.
I had a conversation like the above one with my most emotional kids this morning, when they were already at each others' throats before 8:30 a.m. on VALENTINE'S DAY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. It stemmed from another conversation I had with a friend about where so&so was and how so&so is doing and realizing how many so&so's go away hurt, and thinking, geez, what is it we (the church/body of Christ) are doing, hurting so many people so bad? Well we bump into each other a lot. That's true. But we are just a bunch of redeemed sinners, we're bound to bump into each other. And when I look at some of what we did, hurting each other, I'm not so sure I'd have the wisdom to do it differently if I was walking through it again.
Anyway, I am trying to train my humans to forgive. To have mercy. To bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things. To keep no record of wrongs. Crap like that. Kindness. Kindness is on her tongue. (me, the proverbs 31 woman) I try, from birth, to build love into their relationships with each other.
And I realized, in the aforementioned conversation (it was a great talk), that this marvelous life we have that we did not initially choose (remember my initial plan of 4 kids spaced 3 years apart?) is wonderful in a way I don't think I had figured. Our children have a great fall back system for when things get tough in relationships in the future. Duh, right? My friend explained to me that for him, with just one sister, when his friends made unwise decisions, and he had to take a stand, it was just him - he was alone in it. But my children have each other. Not only for accountability, but also for support. They watch out for each other and stand watch over each other. They guard and buffer.
That is, if I can teach them not to accuse and kill each other.
***
In other news.
I went to the OB today, for that followup checkup that is supposed to happen when baby is 6 weeks old, 'cept that he's 6 months old. I mostly went because I think I broke or fractured or injured my tailbone giving birth, and needed to have him confirm that yeah I probably did and there isn't a dang thing he can do about it. That was confirmed. We also chatted about how statistically I'm past the age of getting pregnant easily, but that God can do anything, look at Sarah and Elizabeth. They were glad to see me and are cheering for me, hoping I'll be back again soon. And I was oh so close to being under the 200 lb weight on the scale. If only my appointment had been in the morning. Or if I had pooped first.
***
I have been pondering, again, getting off the fence in my feeble compromised Nazarite fast and really giving the Lord what I think He wants. I don't want to make a rash vow, like King Saul, "nobody gets any food till we win this battle". Yeah, that was a great idea. I don't want to do that. I don't want to promise something I can't deliver. And the line is really hard to draw. Caffeine, is, well it is pretty simple. Sort of. Not hard coffee. But what about decaf? What about white tea or green tea or chai? What about chocolate - like come cocoa powder in my smoothie? Then there's sugar. Okay, not white sugar. Or brown. But how about honey or pure maple syrup? What about artificial sweeteners? How about agave? Do I eat fruit sweetened things? Fruit juice? You see what I mean? It simply isn't as simple as smoking or not smoking, drinking or not drinking.
But this is what I think God wants, and therefore what I want. I want to not eat the things that are addictive for me. The things that I cannot stop eating once I start. But I have really struggled with how to make that work, from a health perspective, and from a coping perspective. Those are things like: bread, waffles, pancakes, white rice, anything chocolate, most dairy, anything with sugar or artificial sweetener.
I am excited about that Eat to Live book because I feel there is wisdom from God for me in it. It seems to me that the Lord is saying to me, like He said to Adam and Eve, "Here I am giving you all these things to eat, just don't eat from this tree." He has given me all the same things He gave them. He even says, in Proverbs, if you find honey, don't eat too much of it. But I can eat as much as I want of fruits, veggies, beans, and some nuts and seeds and grains (brown rice and steel cut oats are cool). There is freedom in that way of eating, and that way is also, according to all kinds of studies (describe in Fuhrman's book) the very healthiest way to eat. It makes sense - that is what they ate in the garden, and that is the way that studies have shown best prevents the diseases people in wealthy countries die from. In poorer places, people die because their water is not clean or they don't have adequate medical care or enough to eat. But they are eating the right stuff, so they don't die of the stuff that kills us. In wealthier places, we choose to eat what isn't as good for us because it tastes good, is more convenient and we can afford it. We don't die of the stuff that kills them because we have clean water and good medical care. But if we ate the stuff they eat, fruits and veggies and plant products, we could have the best of both worlds, clean water, good medical care, AND healthy food and bodies.
Today is Valentine's Day. I made monkey bread for my kids for breakfast. I had a smoothie (soy milk, pomegranate juice, half a bag spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit, an apple somebody took a couple bites out of and left for dead, a tbs cocoa powder in honor of Saint Valentine, and some vanilla). For lunch I had a gynormous salad (3 kinds of lettuce, kidney beans, walnuts, almonds, yellow bell pepper, shredded carrot (which sort of reminds me of cheese), celery, tomato, broccoli, and Trader Joe's greek dressing). And for dinner we went to my favorite Indian restaurant, where I had chai, veggie palak on rice and naan. And then I shared a sugar free (Simply Lite) chocolate bar from Trader Joe's (in my opinion the best sugar free chocolate) with my valentine.
There were some Valentine style splurges there. But mostly I'll be doing the smoothie, soup, and salad existence. I won't be hungry. I will be satisfied with Jesus and with the food He has given me.
***
This is some of the stuff I haven't been writing about. Sorry for slacking. I just haven't had time. One of my dishwashers is busted (just a couple weeks past the one year warranty - they said I could extend it for $250, OR I CAN BUY ANOTHER DISHWASHER) and my Laundry Pure croaked, still under warranty, so we're washing clothes with soap and hot water again, and guess what?! The clothes are not cleaner, they just smell like soap now. The Laundry Pure really does a better job, I am convinced of it now. I think mine died because of being a refurb. Or maybe because we do a normal family's decade's worth of laundry in 6 months. Anyway, they were very gracious, and I look forward to having it back.
Also, my washer has been on the fritz, stopping half way through a load, and then my 8 and 9 year old laundry helpers put a load of dripping wet clothes and blankets in the dryer and it takes 3 cycles of dryer time to get those dry and ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom, we're grotesquely behind on laundry. Wretched. And I'm still not unpacked completely from two road trips ago.
Another thing taking up a lot of time is all this salad making and cooking I'm trying to do. Making oatmeal and pancakes and homemade stuff takes so much more time than cereal and chicken nuggets. But, I think it's worth it.
***
Okay, I'm feeling somewhat caught up. Do you feel better? I'll try to keep up a little better. Thanks for reading.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Fitness journey update - Eat To Live
Disclaimer: this is premature glory. I have lost a whole pound, not anything to write home or a blog about. Acknowledged.
Okay. I went to a beloved friend's house (She has long red hair and 10 kids, for those of you who know me personally and need to know exactly who I'm talking about) with the intention of asking while there about her tricks for feeding a lot of children breakfast on a healthy dime. I knew she would have wisdom. Boy did she!
Within a few minutes of being there, I asked my first question (it had been too long since the last visit and we both had lots of questions:) and she hit me in the face with this - "We are no longer eating meat or dairy."
What?! What are you eating then? (I knew she was staying away from sugar and limiting carbs) What else is there?
So we chatted about that, she gave me some recipes, but several of the recipes she had that I wanted were in the book she kept referring to, Eat to Live. For whatever reason, and I'm not sure what it was honestly, I ordered the book when I got home. I really was skeptical.
I'm not now. I think the guy makes a profoundly convincing case for needing to have the vast majority of our diets be made up of, in this order, green leafy veggies, other green veggies, colorful non-starch veggies, fruits, beans, nuts and seeds, with a smaller amount of starchy veggies, and almost no animal products. For weight, for heart, for disease fighting, it all seems pretty clear.
So I am experimenting. I'm not following his advice and cutting out all salt, though I think I'm using less of it. But I'm eating weird stuff. My breakfast was a smoothie made of a half bag of spinach, a banana, a cup of frozen blueberries, a cup of other frozen fruit, a half cup almond milk, a half cup pomegranate juice, a beet and a tablespoon of ground flax.
For supper last night I actually ate a salad without meat or cheese. It was ok. I'm learning. Some of the things I make are duds. I made a veggie soup and had to add quinoa and tortellini to make it worth eating. I did a veggie chili (beans and bell peppers) and had to add seasoning I don't normally think of as chili seasoning (cloves??). But I'm doing ok.
My treats are things I find on www.chocolatecoveredkatie.com - especially the no sugar cookie dough dip. I don't add the chocolate chips, but it's good anyway. To me.
I am trying to feed my kids healthier too - and that's harder. I'm trying to keep a veggie tray stocked and on the counter right before meals, when they're all starting to nibble on each other. I am trying to do more whole grain things, bread, pancakes, waffles, breakfast breads. We're only doing cereal once or twice a week. I am actually making breakfast most days. And I'm talking to them about eating more veggies, and why.
We have a ridiculously long way to go. And I am certainly at the beginning. But I'm excited about this for the following reasons. #1 I am not hungry. #2 Pretty much everything I am eating is good for me. #3 I think I am doing what my body needs and eventually what my kids' bodies need.
I will keep you posted. Unless I completely fall off the wagon. Then I probably won't mention it.
Okay. I went to a beloved friend's house (She has long red hair and 10 kids, for those of you who know me personally and need to know exactly who I'm talking about) with the intention of asking while there about her tricks for feeding a lot of children breakfast on a healthy dime. I knew she would have wisdom. Boy did she!
Within a few minutes of being there, I asked my first question (it had been too long since the last visit and we both had lots of questions:) and she hit me in the face with this - "We are no longer eating meat or dairy."
What?! What are you eating then? (I knew she was staying away from sugar and limiting carbs) What else is there?
So we chatted about that, she gave me some recipes, but several of the recipes she had that I wanted were in the book she kept referring to, Eat to Live. For whatever reason, and I'm not sure what it was honestly, I ordered the book when I got home. I really was skeptical.
I'm not now. I think the guy makes a profoundly convincing case for needing to have the vast majority of our diets be made up of, in this order, green leafy veggies, other green veggies, colorful non-starch veggies, fruits, beans, nuts and seeds, with a smaller amount of starchy veggies, and almost no animal products. For weight, for heart, for disease fighting, it all seems pretty clear.
So I am experimenting. I'm not following his advice and cutting out all salt, though I think I'm using less of it. But I'm eating weird stuff. My breakfast was a smoothie made of a half bag of spinach, a banana, a cup of frozen blueberries, a cup of other frozen fruit, a half cup almond milk, a half cup pomegranate juice, a beet and a tablespoon of ground flax.
For supper last night I actually ate a salad without meat or cheese. It was ok. I'm learning. Some of the things I make are duds. I made a veggie soup and had to add quinoa and tortellini to make it worth eating. I did a veggie chili (beans and bell peppers) and had to add seasoning I don't normally think of as chili seasoning (cloves??). But I'm doing ok.
My treats are things I find on www.chocolatecoveredkatie.com - especially the no sugar cookie dough dip. I don't add the chocolate chips, but it's good anyway. To me.
I am trying to feed my kids healthier too - and that's harder. I'm trying to keep a veggie tray stocked and on the counter right before meals, when they're all starting to nibble on each other. I am trying to do more whole grain things, bread, pancakes, waffles, breakfast breads. We're only doing cereal once or twice a week. I am actually making breakfast most days. And I'm talking to them about eating more veggies, and why.
We have a ridiculously long way to go. And I am certainly at the beginning. But I'm excited about this for the following reasons. #1 I am not hungry. #2 Pretty much everything I am eating is good for me. #3 I think I am doing what my body needs and eventually what my kids' bodies need.
I will keep you posted. Unless I completely fall off the wagon. Then I probably won't mention it.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Slacker
But I'm not. I'm not a slacker. I'm working hard. Honest. I'm nursing a baby right now. I cut hair, I helped make bread, took down Christmas decorations.
Well, I'm writing now. I'm trying to get inspired. I think the hubby and I and some great friends are going to try to go on a cruise next summer for our anniversary. 20 years. And I am researching that some.
I'm trying to get motivated for the next leg of my fitness journey. It's hard. Especially on hard days. I'm pretty sure the thinner I get the nastier I'll look. An old wrinkled nasty bag of skin. The saggy, baggy elephant. Not looking forward to living life in too-big skin.
And hard days are, well, hard. Comfort food is comforting. And time. There simply isn't enough time.
My dad always says you will make time for what matters the most to you. And that is true. But for me, that means neglecting something else I should be doing. For example, there is a pile of clothes in my laundry room that always accumulates of garments that don't fit anyone who lives here right now but that are perfectly good and will, within a few hours, fit someone just fine. They need to be put away. And even though I have an ideal storage system, it still has to actually be done.
Cloth diapers have to be washed and stuffed. People insist on eating every day and that means dishes have to be washed.
And I'm doing this crazy thing of trying to cook more of the foods that fill people up and cost less and are, you know, healthier. Do you know how much more time it takes to make real oatmeal (doesn't come in envelopes) than letting people get their own cereal??
Today I tried an experiment - and those only work about 30% of the time, but I was desperate) - and made breakfast burritos. Doesn't sound that scary, but I decided to make some filler, since we didn't have 3 dozen eggs. I cooked up some potatoes and onion. I thought it was too delicious (scrapping my plan to have an egg day and drop a little of my bloat) and ate 2, but half my clan took one bite and decided to fast.
Sometimes trying at all is the most overwhelming part. And even though I suspect I will at some point put on my A-game and give it my best, count the dumb calories and the stupid carbs and drink the horribly cold January water and run on the stinking treadmill, right now I just want to sit down with a steamer and play solitaire.
Ok. I am a slacker. Or a slacker wannabe.
Well, I'm writing now. I'm trying to get inspired. I think the hubby and I and some great friends are going to try to go on a cruise next summer for our anniversary. 20 years. And I am researching that some.
I'm trying to get motivated for the next leg of my fitness journey. It's hard. Especially on hard days. I'm pretty sure the thinner I get the nastier I'll look. An old wrinkled nasty bag of skin. The saggy, baggy elephant. Not looking forward to living life in too-big skin.
And hard days are, well, hard. Comfort food is comforting. And time. There simply isn't enough time.
My dad always says you will make time for what matters the most to you. And that is true. But for me, that means neglecting something else I should be doing. For example, there is a pile of clothes in my laundry room that always accumulates of garments that don't fit anyone who lives here right now but that are perfectly good and will, within a few hours, fit someone just fine. They need to be put away. And even though I have an ideal storage system, it still has to actually be done.
Cloth diapers have to be washed and stuffed. People insist on eating every day and that means dishes have to be washed.
And I'm doing this crazy thing of trying to cook more of the foods that fill people up and cost less and are, you know, healthier. Do you know how much more time it takes to make real oatmeal (doesn't come in envelopes) than letting people get their own cereal??
Today I tried an experiment - and those only work about 30% of the time, but I was desperate) - and made breakfast burritos. Doesn't sound that scary, but I decided to make some filler, since we didn't have 3 dozen eggs. I cooked up some potatoes and onion. I thought it was too delicious (scrapping my plan to have an egg day and drop a little of my bloat) and ate 2, but half my clan took one bite and decided to fast.
Sometimes trying at all is the most overwhelming part. And even though I suspect I will at some point put on my A-game and give it my best, count the dumb calories and the stupid carbs and drink the horribly cold January water and run on the stinking treadmill, right now I just want to sit down with a steamer and play solitaire.
Ok. I am a slacker. Or a slacker wannabe.
Saturday, January 05, 2013
Wasting time
Today my husband is taking our 7 oldest children to see The Hobbit. They are hugely excited. I am also excited to see it, but that will have to wait until a day I am willing to leave the baby - I don't want him to have a bottle every day, and he had one yesterday (oops). So I'll go sometime. But they're all there, and I am here. I am here with the 6 youngest. 6 under 7.
Now the mountain of laundry is still there, there are dishes waiting to be unloaded and others waiting to be loaded. We cleaned and then messed up again the kitchen table. And I got 2 babies down for naps and thought, is it possible that I might get something done?
Well it all depends. Because Daughter Number Four had the Wee Sing Christmas Songbook in hand. We sang Jingle Bells, all three verses, several times. We sang through the Little Drummer Boy numerous times. Then we just started at the front and worked our way through, singing all the verses listed for each song.
Not too long after that, the baby woke up, and the window of possible efficiency closed again.
Did I get laundry done? The dishes? No. But we sang with gusto, we sang with passion, and my younger children now know how "Must Be Santa" goes. I'm calling that time well spent.
Now the mountain of laundry is still there, there are dishes waiting to be unloaded and others waiting to be loaded. We cleaned and then messed up again the kitchen table. And I got 2 babies down for naps and thought, is it possible that I might get something done?
Well it all depends. Because Daughter Number Four had the Wee Sing Christmas Songbook in hand. We sang Jingle Bells, all three verses, several times. We sang through the Little Drummer Boy numerous times. Then we just started at the front and worked our way through, singing all the verses listed for each song.
Not too long after that, the baby woke up, and the window of possible efficiency closed again.
Did I get laundry done? The dishes? No. But we sang with gusto, we sang with passion, and my younger children now know how "Must Be Santa" goes. I'm calling that time well spent.
Friday, January 04, 2013
Starting Over
Part of why we make and need New Year's Resolutions is because we have behaved so poorly and been so irresponsible and negligent in honor of Jesus' birthday, because that is how we show we love Him, that it is going to take some serious resolve just to begin life again as we knew it before the hurricane known as The Holidays struck.
I need a fresh start. I know, most of you fresh started on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Me, I'm procrastinating. My brother, niece and nephew fly home tomorrow. Then I've got about 36 hours to pull it together, make a plan, and gear up before the First Real Monday of 2013 launches.
Monday morning, school resumes. Monday morning Eldest Daughter and I will start a new fitness journal/plan together. Monday is the beginning of the week in which all the activities and classes that paused for The Holidays unpause. Monday, Monday, can't love that day.
Frankly, I'm nervous. But ready. One cannot live in holiday mode forever. My children's brains are melting. My pants are getting tight again. The laundry mountain is growing (no one has been doing chores around here, and there has been travel, and cleaning, both of which produce more laundry, somehow) and someone, Someone, I say, someone is going to have to undertake to climb it. That Someone is likely to be me. We could lose a child in there, I tell you.
We are not in as bad of shape on dishes, in part because, well, we have to eat. And, for one of my first amazing and super acts of the new year, I bought more spoons (**applause**). But my refrigerator is a collection of various shapes and sizes of storage containers filled with generations of food-that-once-was-but-is-now-growing-whoknowswhat. And my countertop has 15 empty stockings and 15 almost empty holiday tins from Grandma, containing only candy no one really wanted, necco wafers and such, all taking up space we normally reserve for whatever objects we take away from the toddlers.
Anyway (or any-who, depending on where you're from), I'm just grateful for this whole fresh start New Year's Resolution thing, to give us a pass for whatever lies behind and an official encouragement to look to what lies ahead and press on toward the mark of the high calling of what we were supposed to be doing before we got so distracted celebrating.
Ready, set, go.
(I'm not really ready yet, but, like I told you, I'm starting Monday.)
I need a fresh start. I know, most of you fresh started on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Me, I'm procrastinating. My brother, niece and nephew fly home tomorrow. Then I've got about 36 hours to pull it together, make a plan, and gear up before the First Real Monday of 2013 launches.
Monday morning, school resumes. Monday morning Eldest Daughter and I will start a new fitness journal/plan together. Monday is the beginning of the week in which all the activities and classes that paused for The Holidays unpause. Monday, Monday, can't love that day.
Frankly, I'm nervous. But ready. One cannot live in holiday mode forever. My children's brains are melting. My pants are getting tight again. The laundry mountain is growing (no one has been doing chores around here, and there has been travel, and cleaning, both of which produce more laundry, somehow) and someone, Someone, I say, someone is going to have to undertake to climb it. That Someone is likely to be me. We could lose a child in there, I tell you.
We are not in as bad of shape on dishes, in part because, well, we have to eat. And, for one of my first amazing and super acts of the new year, I bought more spoons (**applause**). But my refrigerator is a collection of various shapes and sizes of storage containers filled with generations of food-that-once-was-but-is-now-growing-whoknowswhat. And my countertop has 15 empty stockings and 15 almost empty holiday tins from Grandma, containing only candy no one really wanted, necco wafers and such, all taking up space we normally reserve for whatever objects we take away from the toddlers.
Anyway (or any-who, depending on where you're from), I'm just grateful for this whole fresh start New Year's Resolution thing, to give us a pass for whatever lies behind and an official encouragement to look to what lies ahead and press on toward the mark of the high calling of what we were supposed to be doing before we got so distracted celebrating.
Ready, set, go.
(I'm not really ready yet, but, like I told you, I'm starting Monday.)
Friday, December 21, 2012
No 'easy' button
Parenting is something you chip away at, gradually, bit by bit. You say the same thing a thousand times, not knowing if you are making any impact.
Obey and be kind. Obey and be kind. These are the rules, especially for the little ones, obey and be kind. Hold up two fat sticky fingers and say it, obey and be kind.
Say the verse, Ephesians 4:32, and be ye kind, one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you.
"KINDNESS!"
Breaking up skirmishes, emotional, hormonal, physical. (Yesterday I commented under my breath that we have enough hormones here to power a space rocket. Oldest son, near enough to hear, responded, "I don't think it works that way, Mom."). Over a toy, over a comment or a facial expression or a tone of voice.
Unforgiveness lays a foundation for an explosion, should anyone grieviously make a repeat error, let alone an oft repeated error.
And yet.
I'm chipping away. Obey and be kind. Kindness! Ephesians 4:32.
Yesterday I took all 13 children to the oldest 3's Christmas party for their 'school' (not really a school, supplimental thing). There was food to be eaten, socializing to do, and there were games to be played, games for high school homeschoolers. Big kids. And my smaller people were feeling left out. (not the babies, they were doing acrobatics in the middle of the floor)
And without a negative breath or look, the older sibs pulled the smalls in. They were kind. So kind.
My battles have not been for naught. My daily instruction bore some fruit. After all the at home training, we passed the test.
Kindness. There's no easy button. But sometimes ...
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
99 presents for kids 'neath the tree
99 presents for kids
Take one down and pass it around
99 presents for kids 'neath the tree
Well, actually there are 92, but who's counting?
I am. This is another one of those things that is hard for people to imagine, how do you do Christmas with 13 kids. It has not always been this way, and will probably continue to evolve, but for the last couple years, here is how we do it.
We have a budget. We spend a little more on the bigs and a little less on the smalls and basically nothing on the baby.
And we make a list and put it in a spreadsheet, everything we buy, price, shipping info, who it's for, etc. After making sure everybody will open pretty much the same number of things and with pretty much the same amount of happiness, we then sort them by gift, alphabetically.
Then we tweak it. We send everyone's "main present" to the end and make sure the small people don't go too long without something to unwrap.
Finally, we number them.
Each child had another child to help choose a gift for, and they got to wrap their person's presents, to what ever degree they were capable of doing so. (I'm pretty sure Fifth Daughter already told Third Daughter what she got her.) Once wrapped, each gift gets only a number. No names.
That keeps everyone guessing the whole time. And it's fun.
So that's how we do it. It's a little ocd, I admit, but it's a great game.
That's how we do the present thing. I think we will do stockings, then breakfast, then Christmas story and gifts after breakfast. Breakfast is home made egg mcmuffins this year - good enough to eat even with a sock full of candy in front of you.
Take one down and pass it around
99 presents for kids 'neath the tree
Well, actually there are 92, but who's counting?
I am. This is another one of those things that is hard for people to imagine, how do you do Christmas with 13 kids. It has not always been this way, and will probably continue to evolve, but for the last couple years, here is how we do it.
We have a budget. We spend a little more on the bigs and a little less on the smalls and basically nothing on the baby.
And we make a list and put it in a spreadsheet, everything we buy, price, shipping info, who it's for, etc. After making sure everybody will open pretty much the same number of things and with pretty much the same amount of happiness, we then sort them by gift, alphabetically.
Then we tweak it. We send everyone's "main present" to the end and make sure the small people don't go too long without something to unwrap.
Finally, we number them.
Each child had another child to help choose a gift for, and they got to wrap their person's presents, to what ever degree they were capable of doing so. (I'm pretty sure Fifth Daughter already told Third Daughter what she got her.) Once wrapped, each gift gets only a number. No names.
That keeps everyone guessing the whole time. And it's fun.
So that's how we do it. It's a little ocd, I admit, but it's a great game.
That's how we do the present thing. I think we will do stockings, then breakfast, then Christmas story and gifts after breakfast. Breakfast is home made egg mcmuffins this year - good enough to eat even with a sock full of candy in front of you.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Where is God?
Our nation is grieving. 26 lives lost. Most of them young children. I, like many, looked tonight at the sons and daughters I have in that age group and thought about the moms and dads who don't have their child that age because a crazy guy with a gun shot them at school today.
I was reading the 1st article that popped up in response to my google search and throughout the 5 or so pages of it, there were several highlighted links that I could click that led to other related stories. One of them was something like, 'the nation wonders where God is'.
As I was praying tonight and telling Him of my sorrow, I was thinking of the verse in Jeremiah (31:15 I think) about Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted because they were no more. That's how my heart feels. There is no comfort, no hope. There are Christmas presents bought for children who won't wake up Christmas morning. Empty arms, hearts in a rage, where is God?
He is grieving. Like He does every day when innocent blood is shed. We are killing them off by the millions. The difference between these 26 and the children we abort daily is that these children were wanted by their parents. But the children we abort were wanted and designed and planned for by God. He loves them, loves the 26, loves the Israelis and Palestinians, civilians and soldiers, who are dying. Those in Syria and North Korea being tortured and murdered by their own government, and those doing the murdering, He loves them.
People usually don't care for the idea of a God who would send people to hell. But on a day like today, we want Him to be just and punish the wicked. Problem is, that's all of us. There is none righteous. No, not one.
God hates the shedding of innocent blood. And yet He caused His Son's innocent blood to be spilt as a ransom for many.
Jesus wept at Lazarus' tomb, though He knew He was about to heal him. I believe He weeps today. But I think we need the perspective that He also grieves the lives we take with our own hands through abortion and call it freedom and women's rights and reproductive health. We would be absolutely horrified if a so-called doctor did to one of our children, or 26 of our children, or thousands of our children what is done systematically, daily, for lots of money to these pre-born but unique and special and wonderfully knit by their Creator God children.
That's where God is.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Blogger on the run
I have just uploaded the mobile version of blogger, which means, good news for you, I can now blog while sitting on the john, or nursing, or riding in the van (none of which I am doing right now). In fact I am sitting in front of my husband's cushy desktop computer, the one I'm barely allowed to look at, and it is turned off, so I can try out this new thing.
The real beauty is that I think it will be easy to put up pictures, poorly taken by me with my phone also (I honestly thought the whole camera-on-the-cell-phone concept was superlatively stupid in the beginning, like trying to sell bottled water) so that will be fun too.
Anyway, happy Friday. Although I was pretty sure yesterday was Friday. Yesterday I started off on a Jesus high, stayed there for most of the day until son #3 broke my heart by asking me if A) he will be required to do school and chores on his birthday, at the end of March and, when I said yes, but that he can work ahead so it's a free day - not new information - he asked B) what would happen if he didn't get it done.
Now that might not sound heartbreaking to you, but what I heard was this: I am planning to have a bad attitude and be rebellious and disobedient 2.5 months in advance and I would rather think about how awful you are as a mom than about how I can get my stuff done early and take my birthday off, this from a boy who is usually done before lunch and frustrated that everyone else still has work to do.
It's the sullenness and the repetition that gets me. Anyway, hours later, my good mood blown, several other issues later, husband not home from work, feeling unsupported and quite sorry for myself, same kid asks how I'm doing, I tell him. He gives me a phenomenal hug and says, Mom, maybe you should pray. And I do. And it doesn't all go away, but there was Jesus and grace to finish the day.
P.S. experiencing technical difficulties with the photo thing, but I'll figure it out. And yes, my right thumb is numb from text typing a whole blog post.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Looking forward
Maybe everybody's like this. I don't know. I'm just me. So I can only speak with certainty about me. And me, I, am like this: I like to look ahead.
I have lived my memorable life this way. Getting through *whatever* for the sake of the carrot. I even set myself up for this artificially. I can have a steamer in the evening (cup of hot milk with artificially sweetened creamer in it) if I eat and drink appropriately the rest of the day. I am going to eat healthy until such-and-such a day then party till I puke, or wish I could.
It's not just an eating thing. Vacations, date nights, parties, Christmas!!! We (it is we, right, not just me?) live for what's ahead.
So here we are in the whir of the holiday season. We call it the holiday season because there is a cluster of big ones all together. We celebrate Thanksgiving, which is mostly about family and eating and football. Then before we get ourselves really back in order, or even unpacked, in my case, we start celebrating Christmas, which is about Jesus and/or the fat man and shopping and eating and friends and family and presents and movies and music and candy and decorations and trees and maybe snow or maybe not. And immediately, before we have a chance to return the stomach pump we rented and the ugly sweaters we'll say just didn't fit, it's time to celebrate the new year, which is about getting a new calendar and staying up abnormally late and watching horrible tv and drinking and kissing and a big red ball or apple or something dropping in New York and Dick Clark and Ryan Seacrest and resolutions and fresh starts and Barry Manilow and Auld Lang Syne, whatever that means. Most of us don't even try to be productive between those two holidays.
Looking ahead is certainly part of our culture, if not the human experience. And I'm bad about it. I NEED something to look forward to. It's one of the reasons I enjoy being pregnant. I look forward to my appointments (yes I really do, maybe because I get to leave the house, mostly alone, and listen to anything I want on the radio), and I love counting down the days till I get to meet my new human.
Part of post-partum depression is that our whole lives are focused on this build up of anticipation and then it happens, either the way we thought it would, or not, and we are left with sleep deprivation, a needy human, some overwhelmedness at the flowing of bodily fluids everywhere, and Absolutely Nothing To Look Forward To, because we're never leaving the house again.
So I'm a pretty happy camper right now, with so much to look forward to. I have special dates on the calendar, special treats to make and eat, and special treasures I have specially selected for the most special people in my world. I can't wait to see their faces. Isn't that special?
And this morning when I got up to pray, I was thinking about how good it was to have coffee with my friend last night, and mentally reviewing the calendar, scanning forward to the next thing.
And I felt the Lord say, very clearly, 'I want to be what you look forward to'.
Okay.
So I went to pray. And I was singing. Frankly, a lot of my praying is singing. Jesus likes that about me. And the song in my heart was by my friend Alyssa Berwick, who reminds me of me 20 years ago except that she is eversomuch better at all of it. Here are the words, but you'd really have to hear it.
You are worthy, You are worthy
You are worthy to be praised
Oh Jesus, You are worthy
Jesus Your blood ran red
Jesus Your blood ran down
Jesus Your blood was shed for the sins of the whole world
Now we've got joy never-ending because we've been forgiven
We've got life everlasting and all of our healing
We've got peace like a river flowing from heaven
You've made us free
And it's a great song. I already loved that song, now it's my anthem. But I have to say, it wasn't the song so much as it was the God-Man Jesus. He flooded my space. I could have jumped, I could have laughed, I could have danced all night. He is simply more wonderful and awesome and able and worthy than I can fathom.
And I just have to say, I am looking forward to every second I get to be with Him today. I am excited about this Jesus and everything He is saying and everything He is doing and going to do and has done. In Him was life and the life was the light of the world, and we beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten of the Father. (from John 1)
Now, what are you looking forward to?
I have lived my memorable life this way. Getting through *whatever* for the sake of the carrot. I even set myself up for this artificially. I can have a steamer in the evening (cup of hot milk with artificially sweetened creamer in it) if I eat and drink appropriately the rest of the day. I am going to eat healthy until such-and-such a day then party till I puke, or wish I could.
It's not just an eating thing. Vacations, date nights, parties, Christmas!!! We (it is we, right, not just me?) live for what's ahead.
So here we are in the whir of the holiday season. We call it the holiday season because there is a cluster of big ones all together. We celebrate Thanksgiving, which is mostly about family and eating and football. Then before we get ourselves really back in order, or even unpacked, in my case, we start celebrating Christmas, which is about Jesus and/or the fat man and shopping and eating and friends and family and presents and movies and music and candy and decorations and trees and maybe snow or maybe not. And immediately, before we have a chance to return the stomach pump we rented and the ugly sweaters we'll say just didn't fit, it's time to celebrate the new year, which is about getting a new calendar and staying up abnormally late and watching horrible tv and drinking and kissing and a big red ball or apple or something dropping in New York and Dick Clark and Ryan Seacrest and resolutions and fresh starts and Barry Manilow and Auld Lang Syne, whatever that means. Most of us don't even try to be productive between those two holidays.
Looking ahead is certainly part of our culture, if not the human experience. And I'm bad about it. I NEED something to look forward to. It's one of the reasons I enjoy being pregnant. I look forward to my appointments (yes I really do, maybe because I get to leave the house, mostly alone, and listen to anything I want on the radio), and I love counting down the days till I get to meet my new human.
Part of post-partum depression is that our whole lives are focused on this build up of anticipation and then it happens, either the way we thought it would, or not, and we are left with sleep deprivation, a needy human, some overwhelmedness at the flowing of bodily fluids everywhere, and Absolutely Nothing To Look Forward To, because we're never leaving the house again.
So I'm a pretty happy camper right now, with so much to look forward to. I have special dates on the calendar, special treats to make and eat, and special treasures I have specially selected for the most special people in my world. I can't wait to see their faces. Isn't that special?
And this morning when I got up to pray, I was thinking about how good it was to have coffee with my friend last night, and mentally reviewing the calendar, scanning forward to the next thing.
And I felt the Lord say, very clearly, 'I want to be what you look forward to'.
Okay.
So I went to pray. And I was singing. Frankly, a lot of my praying is singing. Jesus likes that about me. And the song in my heart was by my friend Alyssa Berwick, who reminds me of me 20 years ago except that she is eversomuch better at all of it. Here are the words, but you'd really have to hear it.
You are worthy, You are worthy
You are worthy to be praised
Oh Jesus, You are worthy
Jesus Your blood ran red
Jesus Your blood ran down
Jesus Your blood was shed for the sins of the whole world
Now we've got joy never-ending because we've been forgiven
We've got life everlasting and all of our healing
We've got peace like a river flowing from heaven
You've made us free
And it's a great song. I already loved that song, now it's my anthem. But I have to say, it wasn't the song so much as it was the God-Man Jesus. He flooded my space. I could have jumped, I could have laughed, I could have danced all night. He is simply more wonderful and awesome and able and worthy than I can fathom.
And I just have to say, I am looking forward to every second I get to be with Him today. I am excited about this Jesus and everything He is saying and everything He is doing and going to do and has done. In Him was life and the life was the light of the world, and we beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten of the Father. (from John 1)
Now, what are you looking forward to?
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
My Grown-up Christmas List
If you have some extra cash in your budget, here's what to get me.
Actually, if you really have extra cash, I know some missionaries who could use a little extra to get to Indonesia, go to www.thenoeths.blogspot.com, and I know of several little cuties that could use some help coming home to their new families, go to www.babynumber10.blogspot.com or www.lakesfamilyadoption.com or https://adopttogether.org/wallisfamily/
Now, back to joking.
I would like, first and foremost, for my children to be kind to each other for the whole day. Every day. For the rest of their lives.
I would love for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to be free of technology. Smart phones, iPads, laptops, e-mails, facebook and uselessfacts.com are all things that will make my Christmas less merry.
A Jaguar. Dark green.
Christmas dishes to serve my whole family. I have 8 plates that are white (ivory-ish) with blue snowflakes and service for 4 (cups, bowls, saucers, plates) of another blue and white snowflake pattern. That makes 12. I have 15 people living in my house, so I would love at least another 3. It would be great to have lots more, some of them plastic. You don't have to buy these for me. Just tell me if you see them somewhere.
And in the name of family dining, I would also enjoy the following: a dining room table that seats 20 or so, new silverware that matches and serves 40 or so, a kitchen/dining room floor that doesn't double as a puzzle on a rainy day, and a nice set of non-Christmas dishes, plates, bowls, saucers and cups, that feed 40 or so, are beautiful, not breakable, microwavable, dishwashable, and come equipped with a homing beacon so that they are never lost under furniture, in the yard, at other peoples' houses, or in the van. Oh, and drawers. I would like the drawers in my kitchen to work. That's all.
An adequate storage system for all of my daughters' crap. Like maybe a warehouse, underground, with an elevator, similar to the one in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And speaking of that factory . . .
Chocolate! Without sugar or carbs that is free and doesn't give me a bellyache or diarrhea.
I would like to have an operational recording studio set up in my house. Just a decent microphone, boom stand, appropriate wiring for my keyboard and the necessary technology on a computer that can keep up. Operational is the key here.
My laundry room could use an overhaul, including several additional square feet. We now have 10 relatively capable laundry helpers, each with a laundry bin of stuff to put away daily, but not really space to set the bins all out while sorting. Maybe some kind of rack to put them all on would be sufficient. Ideas. I need ideas.
A coat that keeps me warm, isn't bulky, and doesn't make me look like something big and round.
Speaking of round-ness, I would like to somehow have the ability to lap swim every other day or so. This means I either need one of those lap swimming mini-pools, or better, a full sized indoor swimming pool, 25 meters preferably - which would probably require moving, or a membership to the Y and time to go. The trick with this is, of course, the nursing baby. My husband is sort of quirky about me leaving a nursing baby at home, in that, if baby gets hungry, Daddy will feed him. Weird. And, over the long haul, that will likely lead to early weaning, which is not on my Christmas or birthday list.
More babies. Twins, a boy and a girl. Or a handful to adopt. Or both.
For all my humans to really know Jesus.
A truckload of discipline and self control, in 3 hour portions preferably, able to be stored at room temperature in childproof packages. Better yet, another truckload of child sized portions of the same, except in patch form.
A big bottle of Bailey's Irish Creme with no calories or sugar or alcohol.
The recipes for several different kinds of meals that are all easy to make, healthy for all bodies, delicious to eat and wonderfully inexpensive.
For my dog to stop pooping when he is left alone in the house.
Time. Time to read all the books I've been stock piling. Time to write a book (and the wisdom to know what to say). Time to spend with each of my treasures before they slip through my fingers, hopefully safely in the Lord's faithful hands. Time to go all the places I need to go and do all the things I need to do without stressing my husband and older children out or neglecting my younger children. Time to write the songs still in my heart and half recorded on my phone.
Several comfortable and supportive upper undergarments, both nursing and otherwise.
Is that so much to ask?
Actually, if you really have extra cash, I know some missionaries who could use a little extra to get to Indonesia, go to www.thenoeths.blogspot.com, and I know of several little cuties that could use some help coming home to their new families, go to www.babynumber10.blogspot.com or www.lakesfamilyadoption.com or https://adopttogether.org/wallisfamily/
Now, back to joking.
I would like, first and foremost, for my children to be kind to each other for the whole day. Every day. For the rest of their lives.
I would love for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to be free of technology. Smart phones, iPads, laptops, e-mails, facebook and uselessfacts.com are all things that will make my Christmas less merry.
A Jaguar. Dark green.
Christmas dishes to serve my whole family. I have 8 plates that are white (ivory-ish) with blue snowflakes and service for 4 (cups, bowls, saucers, plates) of another blue and white snowflake pattern. That makes 12. I have 15 people living in my house, so I would love at least another 3. It would be great to have lots more, some of them plastic. You don't have to buy these for me. Just tell me if you see them somewhere.
And in the name of family dining, I would also enjoy the following: a dining room table that seats 20 or so, new silverware that matches and serves 40 or so, a kitchen/dining room floor that doesn't double as a puzzle on a rainy day, and a nice set of non-Christmas dishes, plates, bowls, saucers and cups, that feed 40 or so, are beautiful, not breakable, microwavable, dishwashable, and come equipped with a homing beacon so that they are never lost under furniture, in the yard, at other peoples' houses, or in the van. Oh, and drawers. I would like the drawers in my kitchen to work. That's all.
An adequate storage system for all of my daughters' crap. Like maybe a warehouse, underground, with an elevator, similar to the one in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And speaking of that factory . . .
Chocolate! Without sugar or carbs that is free and doesn't give me a bellyache or diarrhea.
I would like to have an operational recording studio set up in my house. Just a decent microphone, boom stand, appropriate wiring for my keyboard and the necessary technology on a computer that can keep up. Operational is the key here.
My laundry room could use an overhaul, including several additional square feet. We now have 10 relatively capable laundry helpers, each with a laundry bin of stuff to put away daily, but not really space to set the bins all out while sorting. Maybe some kind of rack to put them all on would be sufficient. Ideas. I need ideas.
A coat that keeps me warm, isn't bulky, and doesn't make me look like something big and round.
Speaking of round-ness, I would like to somehow have the ability to lap swim every other day or so. This means I either need one of those lap swimming mini-pools, or better, a full sized indoor swimming pool, 25 meters preferably - which would probably require moving, or a membership to the Y and time to go. The trick with this is, of course, the nursing baby. My husband is sort of quirky about me leaving a nursing baby at home, in that, if baby gets hungry, Daddy will feed him. Weird. And, over the long haul, that will likely lead to early weaning, which is not on my Christmas or birthday list.
More babies. Twins, a boy and a girl. Or a handful to adopt. Or both.
For all my humans to really know Jesus.
A truckload of discipline and self control, in 3 hour portions preferably, able to be stored at room temperature in childproof packages. Better yet, another truckload of child sized portions of the same, except in patch form.
A big bottle of Bailey's Irish Creme with no calories or sugar or alcohol.
The recipes for several different kinds of meals that are all easy to make, healthy for all bodies, delicious to eat and wonderfully inexpensive.
For my dog to stop pooping when he is left alone in the house.
Time. Time to read all the books I've been stock piling. Time to write a book (and the wisdom to know what to say). Time to spend with each of my treasures before they slip through my fingers, hopefully safely in the Lord's faithful hands. Time to go all the places I need to go and do all the things I need to do without stressing my husband and older children out or neglecting my younger children. Time to write the songs still in my heart and half recorded on my phone.
Several comfortable and supportive upper undergarments, both nursing and otherwise.
Is that so much to ask?
Monday, December 10, 2012
Annual Annoying Christmas Song Rant
I am what is called Technologically Inept. Means I am either unable to use certain technology, or too pathetic/distracted/old to learn.
So here is my disclaimer: I know that using Pandora or a good mix on an MP3 player would solve all the problems I am about to whine about, and that by listening to the radio, I voluntarily subject myself and others to whatever songs they choose to play. I get it.
We flip back and forth between the local Christian radio station, which has it's own annoying idiosyncrasies, and the local secular easy listening station, which, between Thanksgiving and January 1st dubs itself "The Christmas Station". The Christian station plays progressively more Christmas music during the season, but plays only purely Christmas music on Christmas day.
So, without further ado, here is what bugs me.
Last Christmas, I Gave You My Heart
George Michael/Wham or Taylor Swift
My daughter and I agree that this song is way less annoying when being sung by Taylor, because it is much more appropriate for a teenager to be this goofy than it is a grown man. The song is a whine about a failed romance which the singer admits he would readily renew, while at the same time, vowing that this year he's going to give his heart to "someone special". Not only is it contradictory and misdirected, it's not about Christmas.
The Little Saint Nick
Beach Boys
I guess it fits the Beach Boys, who sang about cars, girls in bikinis and surf boards, not necessarily in that order. But is superlatively dopey. Just dumb.
Sleigh Ride
sung by everybody
No kidding, there are so many renditions of this song, none of them unique. The worst has got to be Air Supply. If those boys felt the need to immortalize their style with a Christmas tune, this was not the song to own. The image of the guy with Euro-fro singing, "giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up let's go" is double wrong. I cannot imagine the humiliation it would take an artist to pull this one off.
Do You Hear What I Hear?
All the divas and some old guys
My problem is not with the interpretation of this song, but the song itself. I'm okay with the night wind talking, and the lamb talking, and the shepherd boy who claims he hears lambs quoting the wind having easy access to the king. But to say that the King said Jesus would bring goodness and light, when what he really did was massacre all the baby boys under the age of 2 in the region, is such a gross misrepresentation that it is simply unbearable. And for women with such marvelous voices as Whitney Houston (who does it best) and Jordin Sparks (a very close second) to sing it with such passion is such a waste. Our version of the song, when we sing along with the radio, says, "Said the king to the people everywhere, listen to what I say, all the baby boys in this region must die because I am afraid of losing my weak hold on my puppet kingship."
All the snow songs
Everybody
Yes, we are having a mild winter, again, and there isn't much snow to be had here in the Midwest. And yes, having some white stuff around does help one to feel more Christmas-ish. But the reality is that there just isn't snow everywhere at the same time, and in some places there is never snow. Are they allowed to celebrate Christmas in Hawaii? Let's get over it, people. Sometimes we will have a white Christmas, sometimes we won't, and it really will be great either way. And the phrase "there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas" is so very ridiculous, as if the lack of snow somehow quantifies the poverty there.
O Holy Night
Lotsa folks
This is actually one of my favorite Christmas songs, and it is done well by many. What gets it on this list is the way most everybody feels the need to mess with the lyrics of the second verse. They edit or leave out important parts in order to dumb down or make a song less Christian or less offensive or whatever. This is especially perturbing when it is done by a Christian. I also heard a rendition of O Come All Ye Faithful (on the Christian station, no less), in which the phrase "Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing" had been replaced by "SON of the Father". "The Word become flesh and dwelt among us," John chapter 1, is one of the most marvelous passages in the Bible. Why edit it out? Are people so Biblically illiterate that we have to edit the Bible out of Christmas carols? Or perhaps the singer himself, a Christian, couldn't handle the Biblical text. Sad.
The song we call, "Six Pack at the Grocery Store," because we don't know its name
Dan Fogelberg
Another song whose only connection to Christmas is the chronology of it. It happens to take place at Christmas. The singer runs into his old lover, she still looks good, she's not happy in her marriage, they drink beer and it stops snowing and starts raining. The single redeeming moment in the song happens when the sax solos on Auld Lang Syne, a song that is supposed to be a New Year's song, but I don't know why. I know they sing it at the end of It's a Wonderful Life. But that doesn't make Dan's song a Christmas song.
Santa Baby
Madonna
The cringe factor, as I'm raising daughters to not defraud the character of men by flirting, is unbelievable and I'm just so glad we can't see the singer and what's she's wearing. It is a slippery, slimy, seductive piece of gimme, gimme. A woman drips out her Christmas requests and remarks, "Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed," why? Because she's been so faithful to Santa? She definitely sounds like someone who should be on the naughty list.
Here Comes Santa Claus
Some old guy whose name escapes me
Really, I don't get too bent out of shape about Santa. I tell my kids, he is real, he lived a long time ago, he is dead and in heaven with Jesus, he worshiped Jesus by giving to people who were in need. I tell them that a lot of people like to pretend he is still alive, that he has flying reindeer, and that Christmas is about him, but that if he was here, he would tell us it is all about Jesus. My problem with this song is a verse that is only in an old version, that says, "Santa Claus knows we're all God's children, that makes everything right." That bothers me. The idea that Christmas means peace on earth, good will to men, somehow, without Jesus, bugs me. The peace on earth comes, can only come, from the Prince of Peace. The good will to men is that a Savior is born, God become man. The good will cannot be separated from the One Who Is Good.
And probably worst of all:
Baby It's Cold Outside
Rod & Dolly, among others
I will admit, this song in the movie Elf, done in innocence, is cute. But most versions, and the lyrics of the song itself, are not innocent. And none is worse than the rendition by one of the sleaziest pervs around, Rod Stewart, and the gal with the biggest boobs on earth, Dolly Parton. The song is a proposal, and I don't mean marriage. It's about a guy trying to get a girl to sleep with him, with layers of manipulation. She's saying no. He's pushing. It's just this side of date rape. Filthy.
Now you all probably need to go read the Bible and listen to worship music for a while, since I've slimed your consciences with all this negativity.
What I love are Christmas carols, with Jesus and redemption and even tradition. I love Mommy Kissing Santa Claus and Silver Bells. I don't mind pause and reflect on the last year songs. My favorites are Hark the Herald Angels Sing, I heard the Bells on Christmas Day and others that can be found in hymnals. I like the Little Drummer Boy and even Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire. I'm sure some of my songs bug other people. And songs that offend others aren't a big thing to me (you may have noticed I didn't mention Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer).
So here is my disclaimer: I know that using Pandora or a good mix on an MP3 player would solve all the problems I am about to whine about, and that by listening to the radio, I voluntarily subject myself and others to whatever songs they choose to play. I get it.
We flip back and forth between the local Christian radio station, which has it's own annoying idiosyncrasies, and the local secular easy listening station, which, between Thanksgiving and January 1st dubs itself "The Christmas Station". The Christian station plays progressively more Christmas music during the season, but plays only purely Christmas music on Christmas day.
So, without further ado, here is what bugs me.
Last Christmas, I Gave You My Heart
George Michael/Wham or Taylor Swift
My daughter and I agree that this song is way less annoying when being sung by Taylor, because it is much more appropriate for a teenager to be this goofy than it is a grown man. The song is a whine about a failed romance which the singer admits he would readily renew, while at the same time, vowing that this year he's going to give his heart to "someone special". Not only is it contradictory and misdirected, it's not about Christmas.
The Little Saint Nick
Beach Boys
I guess it fits the Beach Boys, who sang about cars, girls in bikinis and surf boards, not necessarily in that order. But is superlatively dopey. Just dumb.
Sleigh Ride
sung by everybody
No kidding, there are so many renditions of this song, none of them unique. The worst has got to be Air Supply. If those boys felt the need to immortalize their style with a Christmas tune, this was not the song to own. The image of the guy with Euro-fro singing, "giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up let's go" is double wrong. I cannot imagine the humiliation it would take an artist to pull this one off.
Do You Hear What I Hear?
All the divas and some old guys
My problem is not with the interpretation of this song, but the song itself. I'm okay with the night wind talking, and the lamb talking, and the shepherd boy who claims he hears lambs quoting the wind having easy access to the king. But to say that the King said Jesus would bring goodness and light, when what he really did was massacre all the baby boys under the age of 2 in the region, is such a gross misrepresentation that it is simply unbearable. And for women with such marvelous voices as Whitney Houston (who does it best) and Jordin Sparks (a very close second) to sing it with such passion is such a waste. Our version of the song, when we sing along with the radio, says, "Said the king to the people everywhere, listen to what I say, all the baby boys in this region must die because I am afraid of losing my weak hold on my puppet kingship."
All the snow songs
Everybody
Yes, we are having a mild winter, again, and there isn't much snow to be had here in the Midwest. And yes, having some white stuff around does help one to feel more Christmas-ish. But the reality is that there just isn't snow everywhere at the same time, and in some places there is never snow. Are they allowed to celebrate Christmas in Hawaii? Let's get over it, people. Sometimes we will have a white Christmas, sometimes we won't, and it really will be great either way. And the phrase "there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas" is so very ridiculous, as if the lack of snow somehow quantifies the poverty there.
O Holy Night
Lotsa folks
This is actually one of my favorite Christmas songs, and it is done well by many. What gets it on this list is the way most everybody feels the need to mess with the lyrics of the second verse. They edit or leave out important parts in order to dumb down or make a song less Christian or less offensive or whatever. This is especially perturbing when it is done by a Christian. I also heard a rendition of O Come All Ye Faithful (on the Christian station, no less), in which the phrase "Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing" had been replaced by "SON of the Father". "The Word become flesh and dwelt among us," John chapter 1, is one of the most marvelous passages in the Bible. Why edit it out? Are people so Biblically illiterate that we have to edit the Bible out of Christmas carols? Or perhaps the singer himself, a Christian, couldn't handle the Biblical text. Sad.
The song we call, "Six Pack at the Grocery Store," because we don't know its name
Dan Fogelberg
Another song whose only connection to Christmas is the chronology of it. It happens to take place at Christmas. The singer runs into his old lover, she still looks good, she's not happy in her marriage, they drink beer and it stops snowing and starts raining. The single redeeming moment in the song happens when the sax solos on Auld Lang Syne, a song that is supposed to be a New Year's song, but I don't know why. I know they sing it at the end of It's a Wonderful Life. But that doesn't make Dan's song a Christmas song.
Santa Baby
Madonna
The cringe factor, as I'm raising daughters to not defraud the character of men by flirting, is unbelievable and I'm just so glad we can't see the singer and what's she's wearing. It is a slippery, slimy, seductive piece of gimme, gimme. A woman drips out her Christmas requests and remarks, "Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed," why? Because she's been so faithful to Santa? She definitely sounds like someone who should be on the naughty list.
Here Comes Santa Claus
Some old guy whose name escapes me
Really, I don't get too bent out of shape about Santa. I tell my kids, he is real, he lived a long time ago, he is dead and in heaven with Jesus, he worshiped Jesus by giving to people who were in need. I tell them that a lot of people like to pretend he is still alive, that he has flying reindeer, and that Christmas is about him, but that if he was here, he would tell us it is all about Jesus. My problem with this song is a verse that is only in an old version, that says, "Santa Claus knows we're all God's children, that makes everything right." That bothers me. The idea that Christmas means peace on earth, good will to men, somehow, without Jesus, bugs me. The peace on earth comes, can only come, from the Prince of Peace. The good will to men is that a Savior is born, God become man. The good will cannot be separated from the One Who Is Good.
And probably worst of all:
Baby It's Cold Outside
Rod & Dolly, among others
I will admit, this song in the movie Elf, done in innocence, is cute. But most versions, and the lyrics of the song itself, are not innocent. And none is worse than the rendition by one of the sleaziest pervs around, Rod Stewart, and the gal with the biggest boobs on earth, Dolly Parton. The song is a proposal, and I don't mean marriage. It's about a guy trying to get a girl to sleep with him, with layers of manipulation. She's saying no. He's pushing. It's just this side of date rape. Filthy.
Now you all probably need to go read the Bible and listen to worship music for a while, since I've slimed your consciences with all this negativity.
What I love are Christmas carols, with Jesus and redemption and even tradition. I love Mommy Kissing Santa Claus and Silver Bells. I don't mind pause and reflect on the last year songs. My favorites are Hark the Herald Angels Sing, I heard the Bells on Christmas Day and others that can be found in hymnals. I like the Little Drummer Boy and even Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire. I'm sure some of my songs bug other people. And songs that offend others aren't a big thing to me (you may have noticed I didn't mention Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer).
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