Drowning in words

There are times in this life when so many things are going on, that words themselves threaten to become a torrent, unstoppable, ready to sweep you away if you let them loose. Silence is the better choice...if only I could always ( well , not always, just mostly ) choose that. I don't. This Lenten season is not easy...all I can do is pray.

Our Bicentenial Baby

My children's birthdays are always so special in my mind and heart and this is one of those days. Tia was our first Lamaze baby and practice was the name of the game..for weeks on end, every single night with very few exceptions. Back in the day the idea was for the husband to inflict enough pain ( there are pressure points that accomplish this quite nicely without leaving marks ) to simulate labor. There were several types of breathing to be used in the different stages of labor and since the first labor was uneducated and not alot of fun, I was game to try a different strategy. Very late on the evening of April 4th I started having contractions. We lived in Wahiawa at the time and Noni and Nono had to drive from Mililani to pick up Tessa. By the time they got to our house the contractions were bad enough that I remember thinking..." if it gets worse than this I'm gonna need to change breathing.." We were supposed to drive from Wahiawa to Kahuku...a hospital that allowed "rooming in" with the baby...something very controversial in those days....and a good hour plus in the car. Um no. I got to the front porch and baby crowned. John says " you can make it to Kahuku...just blow". Um seriously NO. Wahiawa General Hospital was 5 minutes from the house and thats where we went. No doctor actually awake and on duty but the nurse got her gloves on and woosh, like a creature from the deep, bursting into the air, Tia was born. John's immediate response was to look lovingly at me and say " we have to do this again ". I could cheerfully have choked him at that moment. The doctor did eventually wake up and show up to stitch me up...apparently wooshing isnt the most intelligent way to push a baby out....and then issued dire warnings about leaving the hospital. There was no rooming in and I was determined to have my baby with me so we went home. Poor Noni came to the hospital looking for us and we had already left.... Those times are etched forever in the heart of every mother so we celebrate not only the person that child has become but also and always, the moment we one became two. Thank you Lord for sharing this child with us and bless her, now and always.

You can run but you cannot hide

Mothering. During the early years what I remember most is exhaustion. Sleep deprivation was the hallmark of the early years. Those days when even getting 5 minutes alone in the bathroom was the extent of "me" time. But it was easier in those days when there was a boo-boo. Some kisses, a bandaid and presto, the hurt was gone or at least better.

As children grow, they want less and less of you in the immediacy of the moment...."I can do it myself mom" stretches to include most of their lives ( with the exception of food or laundry ) and you become a spectator for the most part. Not a bad thing, since we do try and raise them to be independent and self sufficent. Mothering changes as the children do, as it should.

When the "kids" are adults there are no bandaids for the hurts. No simple hug, no lap sitting fixes. And as a parent you think you have let go enough for them to deal with pain on their own.
You can pray " Lord I give it to you" but the truth is the emotional investment as a parent is not lessened by time or distance. Your heart still breaks, soul aches, knowing there is nothing you can do.

In some ways the move to New Mexico has been running....to silence and solitude. But there is no hiding when your children hurt. Wish I had a bandaid big enough to fix things. Feeling helpless is not one of my favorite things. Only He can deal with this....I simply cannot and its a hard thing to admit. I need to let go....not because I dont love, but because the bottom line is that in this life, God is the only one who is the real healer of the broken. We moms just stand in for Him from time to time. This is His time. I too am so broken I am no help. All I can do is love.

Confused and annoyed

How do you have someone tell you that after they have been robbed, that they have " prayed to God that the thief would be consigned to hell and their soul be damned forever" and not speak out against that? What if their family was starving? Still hell?

And how do you not speak out against that? Is that Christian? Do you refrain from speaking because you might hurt someones feelings? What of God?

How do you speak to your family, knowing that they are not perfect, while demanding they perfect themselves? I am not only confused...knowing those who demand perfection are not perfect, but I am also annoyed, knowing they are sinners like the rest of us. Grrrrrr.

Ok...maybe I dont know all the answers ( I know I dont ) but I do know that judgement is wrong. Who are we to judge others when we fall so far short?

Maybe ANGRY and annoyed is the best lable for this post.

God forgive me , for I know I have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. I only hope those who stand in judgment are more perfect than I.

Just in time.....or not

The dogs have gone without baths for weeks and weeks. Nasty smellin' and nasty lookin'. But seriously, had I bathed them earlier we would have had pom-sicles. And even now, with the weather in the 50's and the garage warm with the door open to the house, they get the shakes. But over the last two days, bathe them I have. Sigh. I could have lived with the smell so why I did this I dont know.

It is also mud season....the season no one told me about that comes after winter and before true spring. So, bathe dogs, let them out to do their business, let them back into the garage and wash 16 paws. We have two that leap over John's drainage system ( a carved in the mud ditch that mostly drains....sorta ) and two that prefer to dance through it. Even with short ankles they are a mess when the business is done. Never mind waltzing through all the goodies they left a few months ago that are now thawed......did I mention they love doing that too?

Good thing they are my only buddies at this point, otherwise they would be sleeping in the garage.

Some weeks are longer than others

Here I had thought I was kinda almost sorta nearly used to John leaving.

Well, I am not. Not so much. It sill sucks totally and completely.

Sigh.

The smarter I get,,,,

Well, let me just say my intentions were reallllllly good.

John left yesterday morning and all day yesterday I worked...stripping the bed, doing laundry, picking up what had been left lying around. Basically keeping busy. I know the saying is "busy hands are happy hands" but that is not always the case with me. But better busy than mourning my love leaving, which is what I have done the last few times he left. Does me no good.

Today I decided to go to Taos, even though I hate the drive and it was trying to snow. Wal-Mart is the only non-hippie-touchy-feely-$1000 tee-shirt kind of store ( also that is where I pick up my prescription ). No problem. The snow turned to slush/rain on the way but the road was not slick so I was pretty happy with the drive ( also there was a driver slower than me in front of me so I didnt have to feel bad about not going fast enough for the Texans who invariably crawl up my cars rear end when I am first in line on the way...Yay!)

The problem occurred when I got home. Brilliant as I am, I knew John has swept out "his" side of the garage and it was spotless while mine was still caked in dried mud. Ok, no problem. I will pull into his side and after I unload the car, sweep my side out as well. However, ( there is always a comma after my "howevers" isnt there??) there is a double sink that is very easy to hit when pulling into that side. Cough. So I am watching, very very carefully, making sure I dont hit the freaking sink. Which I did not. Bigger cough. I hit the wall. Oh man.....
Not to worry though....i patched it up with my pink duct tape. I am pretty sure he will never notice.

(Banging head on keyboard)

Good thing he loves me : )