Why does finality have to be so final?

I will apologize in advance for this one....  my mind is all.over.the.place lately.  My poor husband had to hear all about it last night...where I'm pretty sure it wasn't the kind of pillow talk he was hoping for.  But he's a great husband and listened anyway.

I'm emotional.  Like ridiculous emotional.  We both say that if we didn't know that I wasn't pregnant, we would think I am pregnant.  Cause I am that emotional.  And because my face is all broke out like a 12 year old girl.  Get on with it, Joy.

So first of all, we're discussing the weaning of the paci.  We've been discussing it for months but just feel that we aren't ready.  Well, maybe we're ready now.  Or we're very close.  Yesterday, I was reading a blog that I follow and read that she is going through the same thing with her daughter.  Well, she posted this link.  I'm telling you, it was like brain candy.  And while it didn't give me any new ideas for the weaning...it did reassure me that our plan should be successful and won't scare her (too bad) for life and have her sucking her thumb in secrecy in her college dorm room.  Cause yes, I do worry about scarring her like that.

But I sat reading this short online article about weaning and was just in tears!  And I cried about it all day.  I kept asking myself "what are you doing to her?!"  and things like "why would you take away her one true love?!"  and then like "she will have nothing to comfort her!"  Yes, I know.  I'm pathetic.  It's me that isn't ready.  Not her.  But the fact that she slides her paci to the side in order to speak, tells me that SHE is ready.  Even if she doesn't realize it yet.  I mean, she normally only has the paci during naps and bedtime.  And when she's throwing the biggest tantrum in the world and I just need silence.  So, my husband declared last night that HE is ready for the weaning.  And I think that I am as well.  Or, I admit that I need to be ready.  Because even though it is going to SUCK, pun intended, we have to do it.  Or risk a hefty orthodontist bill in 13 years.  So, we're doing it.  But I'm not exactly sure when.  Maybe on Sunday we'll start.  Cause we have a friend in town this weekend and we don't want to subject her to the mess that we anticipate.  But it's coming--errrrr, ending-- soon.

So then, my other emotional mess is something that comes in waves.  Dealing with the loss of my dad.  He's been gone since 2005.  But for some reason, I still struggle with the finality of the whole thing.  I still catch myself thinking that he's not really gone, like forever.  And then there are days where I make myself say that it's really forever.  And those days suck.  (what's with all of the suck talking today!?)  Yesterday was one of those days.  And so I cried the whole hour and a half to school.  Luckily, Kage wasn't with me.  Cause she'd give me that look of "should I be crying too, mom?!" 

I struggle with my own faith because of his lack of faith.  I know that he didn't accept Jesus in his life. I know that he didn't live in a Godly way.  Does that mean that he's not in heaven?  Does that mean that he is living in hell?  Because they say that you will meet your loved ones again in heaven some day....but what if he isn't in heaven?  I can't even handle the idea that he wasn't welcomed through those pearly gates.  He was one of the best men that I ever knew.  He had a big heart.  He was a good guy.  But he had his vices too....  I know that there is no way to know where he is now...but I can only think of him as in Heaven.  But from what I have learned in my faith....tells me that he's not.  Does that make sense?  And how dare I say that I don't want to go to heaven if he's not there?  Whoa.  That sounds terrible.  I just want to see him again.  Or to know that I will see him again.  And then the Catholicism in me (even though I'm not practicing Catholicism anymore) tells me that maybe he's in Purgatory.  Which is even worse yet.  Ugh.  And then the whole Lovely Bones book makes me throw in the whole worry of "what if me not being able to let him go, keeps him in limbo?!"  Is that even possible?  Do you think that really happens? 

I know that he was ready to go.  He told me.  He really suffered at the end--and he was only 50.  Talk about unfair.  But I'm selfish and I wasn't ready for him to go.  And I think that if he had a more fair share of life, he wouldn't have been ready to go either.  And that's where it hurts.  He got the short end of the stick and even though he deserved a much easier ride, he fought the hard fight.  And his body couldn't take it anymore.  He always joked that his "golden years aren't so golden."  God, I miss him.

 

Are you kidding me?

So, I am new to this whole faith thing.  I mean, I've heard of it, talked about it, even witnessed it in action--but I've never been fully immersed as I am today.  There, I said it.  I am new.  I have found God and I feel it.  I live it.  I breathe it.  And it's not like before...when I thought that I had found my faith and become one with God...I know now that I wasn't even close.

And while I could probably speak about this new found faith forever, I almost feel like I'm not quite ready to go there just yet.   It's new.  It's my feelings, my discovery, my life and I'm going to be a bit stingy with it for now.  And don't feel bad...my husband isn't really 'in the loop' with it either.  And I'm so okay with that for now.

But today has been one of those days where I feel so fully tested.  I am spent.  Emotionally, physically....spent.  I think that I always feel like this on Thursday evenings.  My school week is over and all of the cramming/studying/commuting just wears me out.  And I am feeling it.

I taught a lesson today.  A kindergarten lesson on money.  Simple stuff.  Nickels and pennies.  Counting up to ten cents.  I thought for sure it would be a success.  Ha!  Not even close. They got the nickel concept.  They got the penny concept.  They can count by 1s and they can count by 5s...but for the life of me, I could not get them to count nickels and pennies together.  They just weren't getting it.  And we're only given 30 minutes to teach and assess.  It just wasn't enough time.  So, I may not get a passing grade on this one.  And, it'll be my first non-passing grade. Ever.  I want to cry. I could go on about this class and the students and why I feel it wasn't a success but I've learned from others mistakes about blabbing online about students and teaching.   I'm not going to be among them.

So I'm driving home from school and just about three blocks from KG's daycare and I miss my turn.  So I just go up to the next block and take the other route.  Thank God for my Garmin.  I'm never lost anymore.  I was talking away on my cell phone to a classmate about lessons and students and school and there they are.....cherries and berries.  I got pulled over.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  Ugh. 

Now, I'm no stranger to speeding tickets.  I have had my share in my day.  More than my share.  But that was back when I was dumb!  I'm not dumb anymore, officer!  Obviously I am.  He asked me if I knew why he pulled me over.  I spoke honestly, told him I had no idea and that I was on my phone.  Haha  My husband said that I should not have said that.  Whatever.  I guess I was going a little fast.  38 in a 25.  Ooops.  I thought I'd get out of the ticket.  I didn't.  $120.  What do you think of that Dave Ramsey?  Your little student here really screwed up this time.  I get court supervision and it won't go on my record.  But it still just makes me feel like a criminal.  It's a terrible feeling.  I tried to pay the ticket online when I got home but it's not registered yet, so I can't pay it.

I finally get to KG and at this point, I'm just so ready to get my baby and hold her and just melt into her.  Well, that's not really how it goes.  D tells me that she's been having crying  fits and been super clingy and just off today.  I'm guessing teething.  It's always something!  Always.  So she goes to get her up (she's always napping when I pick her up) and I'm waiting with open arms for her at the door and what does she do?  Runs for D's dog.  Hey, nice to see you too!  Remember me?!  I GAVE BIRTH to you?!  I rank right below the dog.  Nice. 

This day just gets better and better.

So we get home.  She cried most of the way.  It was lovely.

I tell the husband to grab sour cream at the store on his way home so that I can make the chicken noodle casserole for dinner.

He gets home an hour later.  With cream cheese.

Ahhhhh, check please!

Death By Homework

I'm just kind of having a hard time lately.  I'm back to my feelings of overwhelming doom and gloom.  That spring break was not good for me.  It allowed me to lose focus on my school and really only made things worse, for me, anyway.  I feel more behind even though I tried to work ahead.

It doesn't help that I got sick on Wednesday and am still suffering from a sore throat and no voice.  I was supposed to teach yesterday and ended up not able to due to no voice.  So that just adds to my feelings of being overwhelmed.  I'm just ready for us all to be healthy.  It's been a rough winter.  KG has had croup, which I'm still unsure if I agree with that....she only had the "bark" cough for about 12 hours.  So, whatever.  We gave her the two doses of prednizone (sp?) and she was fine.  She was up coughing all night though, and despite us trying to wake her up to get a drink, she wouldn't have it.  She was exhausted.  So we put her cool mist vaporizer close to her bed and it calmed the coughing.  But neither the husband nor I slept last night.  She's coughing, I'm coughing.  I still have no voice. 

It's hard to be happy and chipper when you're not feeling well.

The semester is getting closer to the end, which is good but bad.  I'm ready to put this semester behind me, but I've got SO MUCH work left to do!  Seeing May 5 approaching so quickly is freaking me out.  I scheduled for KG to start going to day care for half days on Fridays to give me an afternoon to work on homework.  Hopefully that helps.

Do you ever feel like you just go and go and go and go and never get a break?  That's how life has been lately.  And I guess we do it to ourselves.  We make the plans.  We do our own schedules!  Well, mom is in the city this week for work....and instead of going home on the train on Friday, I offered to pick her up, bring her here and then drive her the 4 hour drive home on Saturday.  Ugh.  Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to have her come over.  She's not been to our new place yet, and we do need a sitter on Saturday morning while we help my bestie move (into her new city apartment, which I'm so jealous).  But this weekend could have been prime homework time that won't happen.  I mean, I guess I can study at her house on Saturday night.  It'll be okay.

I need to get off the pity pot.  For real.

On the other hand, there are some really good things happening in our life right now.  And I give all the thanks to God and prayer.  Since joining Church ABC, our lives are so much richer....have so much more meaning.....and dare I say that I feel more peace?  Yes, despite this overwhelming feeling of death by homework, I feel peace.  The husband and I aren't arguing as much, we aren't stressing over the little things as much, and the mood in our home is just softer.  If that makes sense.  It's an amazing thing.  I just can't help but to look forward to the future.  The closer we become to God and the more power of prayer that we find in our life.....there is no limit to the goodness!

The tent came and went in the same night.  Seems that the princess
wants to play on top of it instead of under it.  Such a climber!

The dog is on to something...

Have you ever noticed that pets lay it all on the line?  I mean, with feelings and emotions.  There is no question.  You know what they're feeling because they show it, without thinking it's wrong.  Because really, it's not wrong to feel.  It's completely normal (here I go with that "normal" word again, for whatever it means) to feel and to show feelings.  But for some stupid reason, we've been trained to hide them.

Yesterday, Lucy cried/whined all day.  She wandered our new apartment and whined.  She sat at the door and cried.  She looked out the window and cried.  She just whined and cried all.day.long.  While my first instinct was to get mad, I now have realized that she's showing what I'm feeling.  I yelled at her, put her in her crate, told her to stop but she wouldn't.  She just kept up the whining and crying.

She wanted to go home.

Kinley has been uneasy in our new "home" as well.  It's an adjustment for all of us.

And while I know that I'm thrilled that we're out of the townhouse....this move is just another transition that we're having to deal with.  And transition is not easy.  Not on a dog, not on a baby and not on a family.

This place is homey.  My friend, often referred to as "bestie", helped us move and she agreed that this place is much homier than our last place.  She thinks we'll be really happy here.  I believe her.  I'm just having a hard time getting to that point.  I'm still in the shock phase, I think.

I look around and see our stuff scattered about and the organization is non-existent.  I'm very Type A and need organization.  So right now, I'm on high alert and so easily irritated.  Which in turn is not making this transition any easier. 

The biggest problem is that we went from 1700 sq. ft. to 1000 sq. ft.  Reminds of "fat guy in a little coat"....you know what I'm talking about. 

It's nearly impossible to make it not cluttered!

So I'm working hard to make it work.  I'm really trying.  My bestie was trying to help me make sense of this cluttered mess and she suggested putting one of our bookcases next to this curio (that I really dislike but feel obligated to have because my grandma gave it to me).  Well, I immediately said no, they can't sit next to each other because the woods don't match.  (Ummmm, yeah, I'm like that)  She reminded me that I'm living with what will work, not with perfection.  She's right.  We're not here to win a spread in Better Homes and Gardens magazine.  They aren't going to come knocking at my apartment door wanting to do a photo shoot of my nicely wood matched furniture and beautiful furniture (that was purchased for comfort, not beauty).  Joy, GET OVER IT.

So I swallowed my pride and kicked myself in the butt (not literally, although that would be funny to watch me trying) and agreed that this next year is about survival.  I'm living in a simpler way and trying to simplify.  Yeah.  Don't sweat the small stuff.  Don't waste my precious time and energy worrying about a bookcase not matching a curio.  Seriously. Worry about time for school or time for my family or time for myself. 

It's been tough, I'm not going to lie.  But I'm determined to not let this move get the best of me.  I'm tackling one box at a time.  One room at a time.  It will get done.  And it may not be today or tomorrow...but it will get done. 

We did make it to Church ABC this morning and again, it reaffirmed my decision that we've found the most amazing church community.  Seeing those five guys show up yesterday at our doorstep to sweep in and make our move the most effortless....it was God at work.  I don't know if I've completely wrapped my mind around it quite yet.  But I do know that I've never met a more generous and loving community.  I feel blessed. 

The cheese stands alone

Photo Credit

Many of the blogs that I read often speak of how beautiful their marriages are.  They speak about the love for their husbands and it just seems so perfect.  The perfect love, the perfect marriage, the perfect life.  Now I know that no one knows perfection (and the blog authors don't claim to).  But looking from the outside in, doesn't it sometimes seem that way?
I don't have the perfect love, but we have love.

I don't have the perfect marriage, but we're both working to make it a successful one.

We don't have the perfect life, but together we're trying to make the best of what we've been given.

I wish that I could blog about how great everything is and how pure and simple our life is right now, but that wouldn't be very honest.  And that is my whole point of 2011.  To blog with honesty.

Since my therapist meeting on Saturday, I've been doing a lot of thinking and trying to work things through in my mind.  I want to make things work for us and I'm not going to go down without a fight.  Even though that seems to be all that we do.

He agreed to go with me to Church ABC yesterday morning.  And despite Kinley doing her best to throw off our schedule and not make it, we did.  We pulled into the parking lot and questioned if we were in the right place.  But when seeing family after family walk through these doors, we realized that we were.  It sure didn't seem as big as we had thought once we were sitting in the parking lot.

We walked toward the entrance and were greeted with an outstretched hand.  That was followed by about four more before making it to the lobby of the church.  Feeling welcomed?  You betcha.  There was a family in the lobby that noticed that we were new (clueless) and kind of took us in...told us where to find the coffee and snacks.  The husband invited my husband to the Men's Night this coming Tuesday so that he could meet some other guys from the church (he won't go, but the invite was nice).  They talked to Kinley and she showed them her impressive trick of waving (backwards). 

From the ceiling hung the sign that told us that the nursery was just down the hall and with much support from my husband, we headed that way.  There were a few older ladies and a couple of high school aged girls sitting a the check in desk that immediately made us feel like old friends.  Kinley went right to them, they asked a few questions, we filled out a few papers and were given our claim ticket.  That was kind of strange.  A claim ticket?  For my child?  It's for safety.

They then pointed us toward the one way window where we could watch her but she wouldn't see us.  And we watched her explore.  She was in love with all of the new toys and new environment.  My husband took me by the hand and walked me away.  I wanted to just stand and watch her.  Being there for worship was completely forgotten.

We walked back towards the lobby and were welcomed again by several other parishioners.  We made our way into the sanctuary and found seats off to the side in the back.  More like observers than participants, really.  But that is why we were there.  The room is a gym--or I guess you would call it multi-purpose.  A wood floor, basketball hoops were drawn up toward the ceiling to be out of the way...  very much unlike a Catholic church.  There was a band set-up on stage in front.  Two huge screens hung from the ceiling displaying a PowerPoint presentation "advertising" their upcoming events:  Men's Night on Tuesday, a Dave Ramsey financial course on Wednesday, etc.  I was feeling excited but a little worried about how uncomfortable my husband was sitting next to me.  He agreed to go with me, but he didn't agree to like it.  So I guess I sat there (pretty much the whole service) waiting to hear the "I hated it" speech.  I was afraid to enjoy myself too much knowing that it would most likely be my first and last visit.

The nursery workers told us that if we were needed for anything, they would flash our "claim number" onto the screen.  I think I had my eyes on that screen almost the whole time, waiting for "38" to flash.  It never did.

The music was so different, but I loved it.  It had a good beat to it.  I didn't sing.  Normally I sing, but this time I was observing and not participating.  I (of course) was people watching and saw many, many young families and couples.  There were all kinds of people!  I told my husband that they must be doing something right, at that church, because so many people found their way there.  Singles, couples, older, younger, professionals, students....that was cool.

I guess the biggest difference for me, was seeing the outward expression of faith during the songs.  And they sang a lot of songs.  The people worshipping with arms raised...it's not something I'm used to seeing.  Well, not used to seeing in "my" church.  I have no issues with that, whatsoever, but it's just not something I am used to.  It makes me wonder what they feel when they raise their hands....and why don't I feel that?  Is it just a difference in the way you were "taught" to worship?  Are they more secure in their faith?  Am I too worried what others would think of me to really express my faith?  What would my husband think if I were to sing and raise my hands?  I'm not to that point yet.  No where even close...and really...I don't think I'll ever be one that feels secure enough to outwardly display my worship like that.  Not that there is a single thing wrong with that. 

hmmmmm, am I back on that slippery slope of offending someone? 

Half way through the sermon, my husband put his hand on my leg.  And I put my hand on his.  Calling a truce?

The sermon was "A Vision For Generosity" and it was good.  Very good.  I think that the sermon may have bought me a ticket to return.  My husband enjoyed it and actually related to it and so did I.  The Pastor talked of finances and giving and generosity (obviously) and wow....it was good.

He asked these questions for us to reflect upon:

1.  Do you have a financial plan?  Does it have anything to do with God?
2.  Do you believe that your generosity is connected to your net worth?
3.  Do you know what it means to give sacrificially?
4.  Do your children see you as generous?

Now even if you aren't religious or church-going (to each his own) and even if my talk of religion on this blog is quickly turning you into a non-reader (please don't go!)....the questions are good to ask of yourself.  Or at least I found them to be good.

They have become so relevant to us because we are working so hard with our finances...with me going to school and adding the cost of daycare into our budget (which we never stick to) it's just going to be hard.  Very hard.

After church, we went to a diner close to our house and had a nice lunch.  It's one of those cheap but good home-cooked places.  And we didn't argue.  Not once.  It's been a long while since we've been able to say that.  Oh it felt good.  Kinley and daddy even shared ice cream together after dinner.  She didn't like how cold it made her tongue.  After every bite, she'd leave her tongue hanging out.  Have I mentioned that she is the only perfect part of my life?

Last night we went and got a membership at Costco.  My husband's company pays for it, so why not?  We got there late (thanks to Kinley's super long nap!) and only had about 15 minutes to shop before they closed.  We got what we needed:  milk, bread, chicken nuggets (Kinley loves them) and chicken breasts.  Then went to the self check out.  On the way home, my husband asked me "are we the only ones that struggle?"  It made me get that funny look on my face like "huh?".  "What do you mean?"  Then he said, "I don't know, it seems that everyone else just buys whatever they want, whenever they want, and we're stuck only buying what we need instead of what we want.  It's not fair."  And he's right.  It does seem that way sometimes.  Just like with the "perfect" lives and perfect marriages that I read about.  It seems like *everyone* else but us has it figured out.

Are we in the majority or the minority? 

We decided to register for the Dave Ramsey class at Church ABC.  I think that it will help us feel less controlled by our budget and feel more in control.  It's time to turn the tables.  It's just another baby step in figuring this whole thing out, together. And I think that just maybe, you'll find us back at Church ABC next Sunday.

Slide, Slide, Slippity Slide

Photo Credit

Boy, this is embarking on a slippery slope.  One of those things I thought I'd never blog about.  Religion.  Well, not really religion.  I guess it's more about our personal struggle with religion.  I'm not going to go on the record to tell you my beliefs and make you believe the same as I do...cause that would be cult-ish....and I am not cult-ish.

As part of my preparation for my appointment with Dr. Laura on Saturday, I have been doing a lot of writing.  Writing about my feelings and why I think I feel the way I do.  Writing about things that I feel need discovering and worked through.  Things like that.

One of them is our church-going habit.  Or lack there of.  Faith is something that is extremely important to me.  Something that I abandoned for some time and am just now coming back to.  It's a working relationship....just like any other relationship.  You have to always be an active participant to make it work.

(I just shoved a handful of Funyuns in my mouth and I'm so thankful that you are not here in front of me having to smell this horrible Funyun breath.  Or maybe you're the thankful one.)

We are all baptized Catholic.  All three of us.  And we all love the Catholic faith.  Well, Kinley is just in it to show off for everyone around her.

That being said, we are really struggling to find a church home up here.  Back in southern IL, we found our perfect fit.  Had we not moved, this wouldn't be an issue.  But we did, and it is.

My side of the story is this:  loving God and worshiping God is within yourself.  It doesn't matter what "building" you go to for worship.  But also, community is just as important.  Having support from your church community is showing God's love to one another.  That is where most Catholic congregations (in my opinion) fall short.  Let's face it, Catholics worship very privately.  In most instances.  (oh, here goes that slippery slope, I feel myself sliding on the brink of really offending someone.)  Aside from the "let us offer each other a sign of peace" there is no real interaction between the parishioners.  Well, okay, some socializing before/after mass.  But when I compare my experiences in the Catholic churches that we've visited up here to what I see happening with other friend's churches, I feel slighted.  Slightly.  Slightly slighted.  You get my point.

My case in point is this:  Church ABC (no, it's not really called that but for privacy, we'll call it that) is a non-denominational church.  All are welcome.  It is a more modern style of service (which could take some time getting used to--mostly the music.)  There is a younger congregation--more young families, like ourselves.  They do small groups during the week for fellowship.  They have a nursery for babies!  There is a sense of community.  A sense of loving God and one another throughout the entire church family.  To me, that is religion.  The religion that I want to be a part of.

I will not deny that the full Catholic mass brings peace to my heart.  I am often brought to tears by the receiving of Communion.  But the feeling of walking in and no one saying hello, no one reaching out to say "welcome to our church family", no one giving a friendly handshake, wave or smile, just leaves me kind of sad.  Children are frowned at when they giggle or fuss or throw their toys.  But yet there is no nursery.  Just a "crying room" where you are put with all of the other young families.  Tell me how easy it would be for you to worship in a glass box full of playing children.  The Catholic churches that we've visited are very stoic.

I love Kinley with all of my heart, and then some.  But when it's time for me to worship and have that hour of devoted time for prayer, etc. it is hard to do just that when you're fighting with a toddler.  A nursery would be a nice option.  Let her play in a safe environment where she can enjoy herself rather than be shhhh'd and passed back and forth between mom and dad. And at the same time, mom and dad could worship together.

So that is my opinion.  If I could find a Catholic church that embraces all of what I feel I'm looking for, then sign me up! 

My husband on the other hand, he's a cradle Catholic (born and bred) and he sees no other way than that of attending a Catholic church.  He prefers the stoic, structure and rigidity of the Catholic mass.  And there is no room for discussion with him on this subject.  So what do I do? 

Attend church on my own?  Bite my tongue and "learn" to worship while in the crying room?  I mean, in a few years when Kinley learns to sit still and quiet in the pew next to us, this won't be a real issue.  She'll eventually be old enough to partake in catechism.

My fear is that if I chose to attend my church, I'll have to do it alone.  What kind of picture would that paint for Kinley?