The day begins with rock music playing softly on the radio. I fight my way free from the veil of sleep, longing to be pulled back into sleep's warm embrace but feeling the pull of my obligations. The day's events run together like strands of yarn after being played with by children. Dance camp for the older two, a visit with a friend and former client, the drive back convincing a little boy that he will have fun at lunch, a lunch out with my MIL, browsing through the thrift store afterwards, pick up from camp, laundry, supper and then a visit with my mentor.
Wound through the tangled colours is a deep, thick strand of red. Not a pretty happy red, but an angry pulsing red. Red for the pain that shot through one side of my head and neck, pulling me down. It's tempting to whine when the headache strikes, to pull back. I soldiered through today, not wanting pity. I rubbed on headache soother, drank coffee and water, took tylenol-all to no avail. My husband prayed as did my son, but still the pain continued. I kept going.
Now the pain is gone, the red yarn trailing off into the rest of the ball. I am released, just in time for bed.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
MM: The Funeral
Mr. H's funeral was today. After wading through grief this past week, I expected today to be extremely hard. It wasn't. Although I did tear up at mostly appropriate moments, the crushing load of grief was absent. At least it was for my friends who are also followers of Christ. We mourn his absence, are shocked by how quickly and unexpectedly it happened and feel for his family left behind. Yet even through the welter of emotions, there is hope and joy. Mr. H now sees clearly what is only a dim reflection here on earth. He is face to face with the Creator and one day we will be too.
Although I have held these beliefs my entire life, it is only while walking through a tragedy in a cross-cultural situation that I am able to understand the life-changing potential they bring. My friends from another culture have been rather distraught. They have not wanted to attend the funeral or the visitation(although they have) being fearful of how dark it would be. My friend did not expect the many moments of laughter, even by the widow, at the funeral today. Even though this was one of the best funerals I've ever attended, laughter is not uncommon at a Canadian funeral. We mourn, but we also celebrate the life of our deceased friend or loved one.
I must go to bed, although there is much more rattling around in my head, much of it about death and culture. Perhaps I'll explore that later. I'm going to quickly close with my thankful list. After a week of grieving, I need the reminder.
More of the many gifts I have received:
121. A good night's sleep.
122. Sleeping in undisturbed.
123. Waking up to discover that it was just a dream(that there was a large pond outside my kitchen filled with boa constrictors, crocodiles and a velociraptor).
124. Feeling well rested.
125. Birdsong.
126. Not having to do it all by myself.
127. Living in community.
128. Specific answer to prayer-a pretty dress, that looks good on me and wasn't too expensive.
129. Communal sharing of food.
130. Beautiful uplifting cards from a dear friend.
131. Playdates.
132. A birthday phone call from Veronica's mom in the Bahamas.
133. A birthday phone call from Kate's mom.
134. So much love poured out on me.
135. The hope we have in glory.
Although I have held these beliefs my entire life, it is only while walking through a tragedy in a cross-cultural situation that I am able to understand the life-changing potential they bring. My friends from another culture have been rather distraught. They have not wanted to attend the funeral or the visitation(although they have) being fearful of how dark it would be. My friend did not expect the many moments of laughter, even by the widow, at the funeral today. Even though this was one of the best funerals I've ever attended, laughter is not uncommon at a Canadian funeral. We mourn, but we also celebrate the life of our deceased friend or loved one.
I must go to bed, although there is much more rattling around in my head, much of it about death and culture. Perhaps I'll explore that later. I'm going to quickly close with my thankful list. After a week of grieving, I need the reminder.
More of the many gifts I have received:
121. A good night's sleep.
122. Sleeping in undisturbed.
123. Waking up to discover that it was just a dream(that there was a large pond outside my kitchen filled with boa constrictors, crocodiles and a velociraptor).
124. Feeling well rested.
125. Birdsong.
126. Not having to do it all by myself.
127. Living in community.
128. Specific answer to prayer-a pretty dress, that looks good on me and wasn't too expensive.
129. Communal sharing of food.
130. Beautiful uplifting cards from a dear friend.
131. Playdates.
132. A birthday phone call from Veronica's mom in the Bahamas.
133. A birthday phone call from Kate's mom.
134. So much love poured out on me.
135. The hope we have in glory.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Mr. H's Visitation and Other Stories
The line snakes through the room, rounding several tables before making its way out the door and into the lobby. We join, three hushed adults with one child clinging nervously, the other three reading books in a corner. The boys are wearing the suits they wore for the wedding two weeks ago. Today their finery is worn for a much sadder occasion.
While we wait to offer our condolences, three tables in the room offer entertainment, if one can say that. A table in the middle is adorned with an engraved baseball bat, Mr. H's umpire uniform, a baseball written on by another neighbour, plaques from the association he served with, and a book on umping that he wrote. Another table is piled with yearbooks, genealogy books, his thesis, his autobiography and his various diplomas. I smile at the old family picture, admiring the dated glasses and hairstyle and my friend as a child. It's remarkable how much his son looks like him. Still another table sports art the grandchildren made in memory of their grandfather as well as his Bibles, a book he and his wife translated into English and some quizzes made up for his 70th birthday and their 40th wedding anniversary.
I managed to hold it together until the very end of the line up and lose it completely while at the casket. As a family we gather to say goodbye to Mr. H, me spontaneously offering up a prayer in thanks for his life. We move away after a few minutes, preparing to head home and then out again. I catch sight of a friend and then spy Veronica in line, alone. After checking with Steve, I offer to stay and head back through the line. I bawl again.
Then off we head to a farm. Aris and I change in the house before striding down the hill to where the rest are gathered. I sit around a pond, while corn and sausages roast over the fire. It's beautiful. The food is good. We pull out leftover cake, blueberry squares, apple squares and Neapolitan ice cream. Everyone sings happy birthday to me. I smile, feeling loved. Conversation bubbles up around me, my children choosing to go wrestle somewhere else as per my suggestion.
Coming home, I wander over to Keesha's house. Veronica and I babysit so the other adults can go the visitation. I play silly games with the babies, especially the ones I don't know as well. By evening's end, those two are my good friends. My daughter wrestles with the children when she isn't watching Backyardigans. I get them to chase her, and they run circles through the house giggling madly. To settle them down, she gets them to lie on the floor and then leads a yoga relaxation. She teaches well. I am amused, seeing my teacher's style in her imitation. The evening ends well.
It's been a full day, grief interwoven with beauty, community, good food and silliness. My tears keep coming. Tomorrow we will attend the funeral. I think I'm going to cry a lot. I'm not a cryer so this has me a wee bit concerned. My in-laws are probably a bit more concerned as they're babysitting six kids tomorrow, three three year olds, two 16 months olds and one six year old. They're pretty brave. Somehow, we'll all get through tomorrow.
While we wait to offer our condolences, three tables in the room offer entertainment, if one can say that. A table in the middle is adorned with an engraved baseball bat, Mr. H's umpire uniform, a baseball written on by another neighbour, plaques from the association he served with, and a book on umping that he wrote. Another table is piled with yearbooks, genealogy books, his thesis, his autobiography and his various diplomas. I smile at the old family picture, admiring the dated glasses and hairstyle and my friend as a child. It's remarkable how much his son looks like him. Still another table sports art the grandchildren made in memory of their grandfather as well as his Bibles, a book he and his wife translated into English and some quizzes made up for his 70th birthday and their 40th wedding anniversary.
I managed to hold it together until the very end of the line up and lose it completely while at the casket. As a family we gather to say goodbye to Mr. H, me spontaneously offering up a prayer in thanks for his life. We move away after a few minutes, preparing to head home and then out again. I catch sight of a friend and then spy Veronica in line, alone. After checking with Steve, I offer to stay and head back through the line. I bawl again.
Then off we head to a farm. Aris and I change in the house before striding down the hill to where the rest are gathered. I sit around a pond, while corn and sausages roast over the fire. It's beautiful. The food is good. We pull out leftover cake, blueberry squares, apple squares and Neapolitan ice cream. Everyone sings happy birthday to me. I smile, feeling loved. Conversation bubbles up around me, my children choosing to go wrestle somewhere else as per my suggestion.
Coming home, I wander over to Keesha's house. Veronica and I babysit so the other adults can go the visitation. I play silly games with the babies, especially the ones I don't know as well. By evening's end, those two are my good friends. My daughter wrestles with the children when she isn't watching Backyardigans. I get them to chase her, and they run circles through the house giggling madly. To settle them down, she gets them to lie on the floor and then leads a yoga relaxation. She teaches well. I am amused, seeing my teacher's style in her imitation. The evening ends well.
It's been a full day, grief interwoven with beauty, community, good food and silliness. My tears keep coming. Tomorrow we will attend the funeral. I think I'm going to cry a lot. I'm not a cryer so this has me a wee bit concerned. My in-laws are probably a bit more concerned as they're babysitting six kids tomorrow, three three year olds, two 16 months olds and one six year old. They're pretty brave. Somehow, we'll all get through tomorrow.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Birthday Party
My husband threw me a surprise birthday party today. We typically just have small family/whoever shows up parties for our birthdays, but have started a tradition of surprise parties for milestone birthdays. Today's party was amusing as I knew he was throwing me a party today and he knew that I knew but we were both pretending to be surprised/surprising. Our friends were very confused. We got a big kick out of it.
Steve and Veronica pretended that we were having a community barbeque today instead of a surprise party. This way they roped me into making food for my own party. :) Steve was in charge of food while Veronica planned out games. She had us play a breastfeeding bingo game. The first person to get five in a row was declared weaned. The guys in the group had a great time coming up with alternative definitions. Apparently hind milk is what is in a sippy cup discovered behind the couch. :)
Next she had us play a potty-training game. There were three dolls(okay one doll and two teddy bears-one for each of my children) that were dressed in a diaper and a onesie. The object of the relay-style game was to change the doll from a disposable diaper to a cloth diaper to a pull-up to underwear. The first team to complete all three stages won. My team won with room to spare. :)
I had a great time. It was nice to be loved on, eat good food and hang out with friends. Thank you, Steve and Veronica! :)
P.S If you didn't get invited and probably should have, I apologize. Next time, I will be writing up a list of people Steve should invite to my surprise party. :)
Steve and Veronica pretended that we were having a community barbeque today instead of a surprise party. This way they roped me into making food for my own party. :) Steve was in charge of food while Veronica planned out games. She had us play a breastfeeding bingo game. The first person to get five in a row was declared weaned. The guys in the group had a great time coming up with alternative definitions. Apparently hind milk is what is in a sippy cup discovered behind the couch. :)
Next she had us play a potty-training game. There were three dolls(okay one doll and two teddy bears-one for each of my children) that were dressed in a diaper and a onesie. The object of the relay-style game was to change the doll from a disposable diaper to a cloth diaper to a pull-up to underwear. The first team to complete all three stages won. My team won with room to spare. :)
I had a great time. It was nice to be loved on, eat good food and hang out with friends. Thank you, Steve and Veronica! :)
P.S If you didn't get invited and probably should have, I apologize. Next time, I will be writing up a list of people Steve should invite to my surprise party. :)
Friday, August 26, 2011
FMF-Older
The Gypsy Mama has challenged us to write for just five minutes, no editing. Every once in awhile, I'm able to take her up on the challenge. I thought today's prompt was appropriate. :)
Start:
I'm older today, this being my first day after turning thirty. Some have remarked that I'm just 29 with experience, trying to soothe me by telling me that I don't look thirty. Each time I've responded with great emphasis that no, I am thirty. I'm welcoming this new decade with much enthusiasm for many reasons.
My twenties were spent largely wading through the jungle(or swamp, perhaps?) that is new parenthood. There is much beauty and life there, but also a never-ending battle just to stay sane. I haven't always won those battles. But now, as I hit thirty, I'm leaving that jungle behind me. Scant weeks before my birthday, my youngest weaned and potty-trained. The diaper pail has been regulated to the basement, the diapers packaged up and passed on, and my breasts stay covered all day long. After nine years of being pregnant and/or breastfeeding, this feels like freedom. (While filling out a health survey, I discovered that I have been nursing for a total of 86 months. Craziness!)
Becoming pregnant meant dropping out of school, putting my academic dreams on hold. Then motherhood took me in a whole new direction. I've found passions that I didn't even know existed. Before getting pregnant, I knew nothing about birth, breastfeeding, babywearing, parenting, fill-in-the-blank. While hiking through this jungle, I've learned much, become wiser, more informed, more graceful. As I enter this new decade, I sense that I have more to offer and can truly make a difference.
My five minutes have come and gone, but I could keep on going. Growing older has meant new maturity, a sense of being comfortable in my skin and a growing acceptance as well as realization of who I am. Slowly I'm learning to move past my hurts, my hang-ups, my selfishness to be a better mother, daughter, friend, doula and hopefully wife. I'm excited to age, to become purified, continually changed by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit to become a wise woman of peace and grace. Or at least that's my hope.
Stop
I'd keep going, but I have a picnic supper to pack and funeral flowers to order.
Start:
I'm older today, this being my first day after turning thirty. Some have remarked that I'm just 29 with experience, trying to soothe me by telling me that I don't look thirty. Each time I've responded with great emphasis that no, I am thirty. I'm welcoming this new decade with much enthusiasm for many reasons.
My twenties were spent largely wading through the jungle(or swamp, perhaps?) that is new parenthood. There is much beauty and life there, but also a never-ending battle just to stay sane. I haven't always won those battles. But now, as I hit thirty, I'm leaving that jungle behind me. Scant weeks before my birthday, my youngest weaned and potty-trained. The diaper pail has been regulated to the basement, the diapers packaged up and passed on, and my breasts stay covered all day long. After nine years of being pregnant and/or breastfeeding, this feels like freedom. (While filling out a health survey, I discovered that I have been nursing for a total of 86 months. Craziness!)
Becoming pregnant meant dropping out of school, putting my academic dreams on hold. Then motherhood took me in a whole new direction. I've found passions that I didn't even know existed. Before getting pregnant, I knew nothing about birth, breastfeeding, babywearing, parenting, fill-in-the-blank. While hiking through this jungle, I've learned much, become wiser, more informed, more graceful. As I enter this new decade, I sense that I have more to offer and can truly make a difference.
My five minutes have come and gone, but I could keep on going. Growing older has meant new maturity, a sense of being comfortable in my skin and a growing acceptance as well as realization of who I am. Slowly I'm learning to move past my hurts, my hang-ups, my selfishness to be a better mother, daughter, friend, doula and hopefully wife. I'm excited to age, to become purified, continually changed by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit to become a wise woman of peace and grace. Or at least that's my hope.
Stop
I'd keep going, but I have a picnic supper to pack and funeral flowers to order.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Hope in Glory
As I glanced across the yard while getting my mail, I noticed two police officers talking with some teens. Curious, and yet not wanting to intrude, I called my friend down the way. Not suspecting anything wrong, we joked about the police being after me and her needing to point them in the right direction. She wandered outside only to find paramedics working on someone at the pool. Coming closer, she realized it was Mr. H, our superintendent's husband.
Our happy little world came crashing to a halt. We prayed, our hearts gripped with anguish and dread. Not only was Mr. H our neighbour, he was also the father of good friends, a man we loved and respected. After the ambulance left, we huddled together in a knot on the yard. Our children played by the pool fence as they always do, not noticing Mr. H's little box of pool chemicals sitting there, or his shoe left floating in the pool. We attempted to find any scrap of hope that he was still alive, refusing to admit that Mr. H had left this world. Hours later, it was confirmed that he was indeed gone.
We cried then and continue to, mourning not only the passing of a good man, but also the hole he will leave in all our lives. I cry for his wife of almost forty years, going to sleep alone. This world seems like a desert, full of grief and sadness. I would that this was a nightmare I could wake from with relief.
But though we walk through the valley of sadness, I cling to truth like a stone in my pocket. The verses, embedded from the many Christian funerals I've attended, are etched in my heart. For I do not mourn like one without hope. I know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. I hurt for myself, for the family, for all of Mr H's friends, family, coworkers, students, neighbours, congregation, but I do not hurt for him. For he is rejoicing, around the throne, made perfect. These little nuggets of powerful truth are clutched tight as I mourn.
How thankful I am for my faith and the great hope it offers. I look forward to seeing you in glory, Mr. H. I miss you.
Joining with Imperfect Prose;
Our happy little world came crashing to a halt. We prayed, our hearts gripped with anguish and dread. Not only was Mr. H our neighbour, he was also the father of good friends, a man we loved and respected. After the ambulance left, we huddled together in a knot on the yard. Our children played by the pool fence as they always do, not noticing Mr. H's little box of pool chemicals sitting there, or his shoe left floating in the pool. We attempted to find any scrap of hope that he was still alive, refusing to admit that Mr. H had left this world. Hours later, it was confirmed that he was indeed gone.
We cried then and continue to, mourning not only the passing of a good man, but also the hole he will leave in all our lives. I cry for his wife of almost forty years, going to sleep alone. This world seems like a desert, full of grief and sadness. I would that this was a nightmare I could wake from with relief.
But though we walk through the valley of sadness, I cling to truth like a stone in my pocket. The verses, embedded from the many Christian funerals I've attended, are etched in my heart. For I do not mourn like one without hope. I know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. I hurt for myself, for the family, for all of Mr H's friends, family, coworkers, students, neighbours, congregation, but I do not hurt for him. For he is rejoicing, around the throne, made perfect. These little nuggets of powerful truth are clutched tight as I mourn.
How thankful I am for my faith and the great hope it offers. I look forward to seeing you in glory, Mr. H. I miss you.
Joining with Imperfect Prose;
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Birthday Celebration
Originally written May 23, 2010. I thought I had published this one already....
I don't like going out in public anymore. It's not as bad as earlier this fall, but some days I really don't want to leave my house. Some days, the fear of rejection and confrontation is too much. I used to think that if I just smiled nicely and was polite, people would like me. I bit my tongue a lot and occaisionally went along with stuff that I wasn't comfortable with(opinions or gossip), because I didn't want to make waves. Then my world blew up. Suddenly a lot of people didn't like me anymore, even hated me. It was hard enough dealing with the friends who confronted me and told me in great detail why they thought I was a bad person. That was devastating in and of itself. But what turned out to be worse was the strung-out process of finding who else didn't like me anymore. It was checking out my Facebook account and discovering which people were no longer my friends. It was walking into church and noticing that not only were some people now avoiding me, if they did talk to me they were mean. Months later I'm still finding new people who have defriended me. This slow, silent rejection has eroded my confidence more than the explosive endings did. Now I am afraid. Afraid to make new friends, afraid to show my face in public for fear that someone will yell at me. It's slightly ridiculous, but also crippling.
A dear friend turned 30 yesterday and her parents threw her a party. We were invited and decided to attend. It was a drive, but she's worth it. However, when I accepted the invitation, I didn't count on the fear. Suddenly on the way there, I began to be overwhelmed. What if people showed up who hate me? What if there isn't anybody I know and the other guests reject me? It was stressful, but I decided to just celebrate my friend. Upon arriving, we discovered that no, we didn't know anybody else. That was slightly awkward at first, but my friend's mother took us under her wing. She had provided beachballs and bubbles for our kids and was incredibly friendly. Apparently I had met her before but I couldn't remember where until we left. She kept bringing up details about our family and I was trying to figure out how she knew them. It was awkward, but funny. :)
We had a great chat with her and then began meeting some of the other guests. The lunch was great. Our kids behaved, we have fun and it was great to celebrate a truly special woman. I was so blessed by the kindness of a host. She treated me like I was special, even when I couldn't remember how she knew me. Being loved on without knowing why was really healing to my damaged soul today. Happy birthday to JB, and a big thank you to your mom! :)
I don't like going out in public anymore. It's not as bad as earlier this fall, but some days I really don't want to leave my house. Some days, the fear of rejection and confrontation is too much. I used to think that if I just smiled nicely and was polite, people would like me. I bit my tongue a lot and occaisionally went along with stuff that I wasn't comfortable with(opinions or gossip), because I didn't want to make waves. Then my world blew up. Suddenly a lot of people didn't like me anymore, even hated me. It was hard enough dealing with the friends who confronted me and told me in great detail why they thought I was a bad person. That was devastating in and of itself. But what turned out to be worse was the strung-out process of finding who else didn't like me anymore. It was checking out my Facebook account and discovering which people were no longer my friends. It was walking into church and noticing that not only were some people now avoiding me, if they did talk to me they were mean. Months later I'm still finding new people who have defriended me. This slow, silent rejection has eroded my confidence more than the explosive endings did. Now I am afraid. Afraid to make new friends, afraid to show my face in public for fear that someone will yell at me. It's slightly ridiculous, but also crippling.
A dear friend turned 30 yesterday and her parents threw her a party. We were invited and decided to attend. It was a drive, but she's worth it. However, when I accepted the invitation, I didn't count on the fear. Suddenly on the way there, I began to be overwhelmed. What if people showed up who hate me? What if there isn't anybody I know and the other guests reject me? It was stressful, but I decided to just celebrate my friend. Upon arriving, we discovered that no, we didn't know anybody else. That was slightly awkward at first, but my friend's mother took us under her wing. She had provided beachballs and bubbles for our kids and was incredibly friendly. Apparently I had met her before but I couldn't remember where until we left. She kept bringing up details about our family and I was trying to figure out how she knew them. It was awkward, but funny. :)
We had a great chat with her and then began meeting some of the other guests. The lunch was great. Our kids behaved, we have fun and it was great to celebrate a truly special woman. I was so blessed by the kindness of a host. She treated me like I was special, even when I couldn't remember how she knew me. Being loved on without knowing why was really healing to my damaged soul today. Happy birthday to JB, and a big thank you to your mom! :)
Sunday at the Parks
Originally written June 30, 2010 and somehow not published...*sigh*
So today turned out much much better than I thought it would. I've been stressing about today for weeks. But....instead the day turned out awesome! I had a moment of sheer terror, but Steve prayed for me and we got through it. After the service and a training session, we had a church picnic in a nearby park.
Today was a beautiful day for a picnic. It was warm, but not too hot and the rain held off while we were eating. Relaxing on the grass, eating a mostly local lunch(including homemade bread), hanging out with our church family while our kids enjoyed an extended playtime with their church friends. I'm glad I went as originally I was going to skip. Instead it was a refreshing time.
After the church picnic, Aris and I hopped the bus downtown to the Multicultural Festival. We spent several hours browsing through the stalls looking at everything from fair trade handicrafts to tea to dresses. I almost bought a beautiful brown silk dress, but changed my mind. The fit wasn't quite right, but it was gorgeous! We found my yoga teacher and ended up both eating with her and then getting a lift home from her. That came at the perfect time because halfway home we were caught in torrential rain. It was a blessing to run from the van to our door rather than make the five minute walk from the bus stop in that downpour.
Aris enjoyed the one-on-one time with me, looking at lots of jewelry, eating corn-on-the-cob, fresh fruit and baklava, and the storytelling. She sat for about half-an-hour listening to the storytellers. It was good for us to have some time just to ourselves and Aris is fun to go out with. Sadly, she doesn't enjoying getting rained on as much as I do. We were caught in the rain several times which I found refreshing. Aris not so much. But it was a good day spent outdoors. :)
So today turned out much much better than I thought it would. I've been stressing about today for weeks. But....instead the day turned out awesome! I had a moment of sheer terror, but Steve prayed for me and we got through it. After the service and a training session, we had a church picnic in a nearby park.
Today was a beautiful day for a picnic. It was warm, but not too hot and the rain held off while we were eating. Relaxing on the grass, eating a mostly local lunch(including homemade bread), hanging out with our church family while our kids enjoyed an extended playtime with their church friends. I'm glad I went as originally I was going to skip. Instead it was a refreshing time.
After the church picnic, Aris and I hopped the bus downtown to the Multicultural Festival. We spent several hours browsing through the stalls looking at everything from fair trade handicrafts to tea to dresses. I almost bought a beautiful brown silk dress, but changed my mind. The fit wasn't quite right, but it was gorgeous! We found my yoga teacher and ended up both eating with her and then getting a lift home from her. That came at the perfect time because halfway home we were caught in torrential rain. It was a blessing to run from the van to our door rather than make the five minute walk from the bus stop in that downpour.
Aris enjoyed the one-on-one time with me, looking at lots of jewelry, eating corn-on-the-cob, fresh fruit and baklava, and the storytelling. She sat for about half-an-hour listening to the storytellers. It was good for us to have some time just to ourselves and Aris is fun to go out with. Sadly, she doesn't enjoying getting rained on as much as I do. We were caught in the rain several times which I found refreshing. Aris not so much. But it was a good day spent outdoors. :)
First Day of Summer Vacation
I can't believe summer vacation is finally here. June seemed to come too quickly, but then take her sweet time leaving. :) It has been a busy month especially with Steve being away and lots of end-of-year special events. I've enjoyed the talent shows and parties, but today was the day I've been waiting for.
I know some parents dread summer holidays, especially those parents that work full-time. Summer vacation becomes a nightmare of arranging care and trying to keep costs down. Other parents switch custody arrangements during the summer and have to deal with the extended absences of their children. But for me, I'm super excited about school being done. Aris will be away a little bit more, but we're used to that now. She will be missed, but it will be nice for her to have some big girl time away from her little brothers. Since I'm a stay-at-home mom, we're not stressing about care during the day. The older two will go to dance camp(separately as Aris needed space) for a week each, but other than that they'll be home with me. And I'm so excited about this!
We've already started having fun. Today was a wee bit stressful as I was trying to clean my house, but we had some nice time together. Aris read more today and the boys were signed up for the library reading program. Zane and Aris enjoyed quiet time together. While Kian napped, they got into my jewelry and played jewelry store. Fortunately they cleaned up before Steve discovered all of my necklaces spread out over our bed. I think I own about 30 necklaces, so it was a bit of a mess. :) But they had fun and there very little fighting today! Kian was thrilled to have them home so he was being nice. Hopefully that will last. :)
I know some parents dread summer holidays, especially those parents that work full-time. Summer vacation becomes a nightmare of arranging care and trying to keep costs down. Other parents switch custody arrangements during the summer and have to deal with the extended absences of their children. But for me, I'm super excited about school being done. Aris will be away a little bit more, but we're used to that now. She will be missed, but it will be nice for her to have some big girl time away from her little brothers. Since I'm a stay-at-home mom, we're not stressing about care during the day. The older two will go to dance camp(separately as Aris needed space) for a week each, but other than that they'll be home with me. And I'm so excited about this!
We've already started having fun. Today was a wee bit stressful as I was trying to clean my house, but we had some nice time together. Aris read more today and the boys were signed up for the library reading program. Zane and Aris enjoyed quiet time together. While Kian napped, they got into my jewelry and played jewelry store. Fortunately they cleaned up before Steve discovered all of my necklaces spread out over our bed. I think I own about 30 necklaces, so it was a bit of a mess. :) But they had fun and there very little fighting today! Kian was thrilled to have them home so he was being nice. Hopefully that will last. :)
Grieving
Canada became a lesser place on Monday. A great Canadian, Jack Layton, lost his battle with cancer early Monday morning. Coming on the heels of his stunning electoral victory in May, his death has hit Canada hard. Jack believed in Canada and fought to make it an even better place. Even on his deathbed, he offered words of encouragement and exhortation to all Canadians. He wrote, in part:
" Canada is a great country, one of the hopes of the world. We can be a better one – a country of greater equality, justice, and opportunity. We can build a prosperous economy and a society that shares its benefits more fairly. We can look after our seniors. We can offer better futures for our children. We can do our part to save the world’s environment. "
Although I didn't completely agree with Jack, he was a politician that I respected and cheered. I was looking forward to watching him as the leader of the Official Opposition(Yes, I'm a closet political junkie). Canada, especially the House of Commons, will be a poorer place.
But Jack Layton wasn't the only one to leave this world on Monday. Mr. H, the superintendant of our complex, passed away Monday afternoon. Mr. H was a quiet man, one who always had a word of encouragement or humour for us. He was a good father, husband and grandfather. I can't imagine not seeing him everyday.
I am going to try to write today for Imperfect Prose, but words are slow in coming. Over here, we're grieving.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Busy Busy Busy
Wow...has this summer ever flown by! The first couple weeks were quieter, although the late end to school made for a very abrupt transition. Soon it was time for camp, after which I went away to DC. A week after returning, Steve and I went to Toronto for several nights. Oh the bliss of child-free time! Then my sister-in-law got married which was followed closely by a week of VBS. Oh, and did I mention that I took a last minute client so I've been waiting for a baby this week? Not to mention the family events, important meetings, baby showers and random other things that had to happen this week.
VBS was fantastic! We attend church in a small town about 10 minutes away. Each year, the three churches combine for VBS( they also sponsor a refugee family together). Because I was away, I had missed the pre-VBS volunteer meeting which meant that I knew almost no one walking in on Monday morning ten minutes late. *sigh* Thankfully a friend of mine from church got my children into their groups and showed me where to stow my purse and grab a volunteer t-shirt.
I volunteered with the jr. youth, specifically the gr. 7 girls. They were, without a doubt, the best group I've ever worked with. The kids listened and participated in group with very little foolishness. They listened well in the large group and sang with enthusiasm. Of course, the other leaders were awesome too. :) It was a great week! After not working with youth for two years, this felt a bit like coming home.
Over the course of the week, the VBS raised money for a refugee family the churches are sponsoring. They also collected goods for a local refugee housing and settlement project. The housing project is run by the organization Steve and I are with so we were extra excited to see them being supported. The youth had a sleepover midway through the week during which they had a service project. They canvassed the town collecting bottles and funds for the refugee family. During the evening, the youth raised over $1100 dollars! The VBS raised over $900, bringing the combined total to $2000.48. Amazing!
Not only was I hanging out with youth, I've also been waiting on a baby. A friend contacted me on the weekend to see if I was available for a last minute client. After some quick prayer and consultation with my husband and youth pastor(two separate people just in case clarification was needed), I agreed to take the client. This added a first client visit, a hospital visit and a tentativeness about all plans to the mix this week. No baby as of yet, so I'm still waiting. Hopefully soon! On that note, I must head off to bed, but I hope to blog again soon. I still need to post about my amazing trip away. :) Good night, all! :)
VBS was fantastic! We attend church in a small town about 10 minutes away. Each year, the three churches combine for VBS( they also sponsor a refugee family together). Because I was away, I had missed the pre-VBS volunteer meeting which meant that I knew almost no one walking in on Monday morning ten minutes late. *sigh* Thankfully a friend of mine from church got my children into their groups and showed me where to stow my purse and grab a volunteer t-shirt.
I volunteered with the jr. youth, specifically the gr. 7 girls. They were, without a doubt, the best group I've ever worked with. The kids listened and participated in group with very little foolishness. They listened well in the large group and sang with enthusiasm. Of course, the other leaders were awesome too. :) It was a great week! After not working with youth for two years, this felt a bit like coming home.
Over the course of the week, the VBS raised money for a refugee family the churches are sponsoring. They also collected goods for a local refugee housing and settlement project. The housing project is run by the organization Steve and I are with so we were extra excited to see them being supported. The youth had a sleepover midway through the week during which they had a service project. They canvassed the town collecting bottles and funds for the refugee family. During the evening, the youth raised over $1100 dollars! The VBS raised over $900, bringing the combined total to $2000.48. Amazing!
Not only was I hanging out with youth, I've also been waiting on a baby. A friend contacted me on the weekend to see if I was available for a last minute client. After some quick prayer and consultation with my husband and youth pastor(two separate people just in case clarification was needed), I agreed to take the client. This added a first client visit, a hospital visit and a tentativeness about all plans to the mix this week. No baby as of yet, so I'm still waiting. Hopefully soon! On that note, I must head off to bed, but I hope to blog again soon. I still need to post about my amazing trip away. :) Good night, all! :)
Sunday, August 14, 2011
My SILs Wedding
Yesterday my lovely SIL got married. It was a lovely wedding made even more so by the presence of some very handsome men in suits.
I must admit to having a weakness for men in suits, especially a certain big one and two littles. These are the very first suits for my little boys. They were so excited to have such lovely dressy clothes that Zane wanted to wear his home from the store. We didn't let him, but we did let him wear it again to church today. My hubby doesn't like wearing suits so I made sure to capture the occasion on camera(I'd say on film, but that doesn't really work anymore).
Veronica, my dear friend who braided my hair when my arm was broken, helped with my hair for the wedding. We divided it into two sections and twisted it up. While she was doing my hair, Keisha and
Bianca, other mommies from the complex came over to help. Personally, I think they just wanted to observe the very rare occurrence of our family being dressed up. Even after we were ready, they all hung out on our patio until we paraded past them in our finery. However, I did put them to work painting my fingernails. I'm not very good at doing my hair or nails, so it was great to have help. Fancy occasions in community are a lot of fun. :)
Upon arriving early at city hall, we took advantage of the free time and took pictures. Our children took turns smiling for the camera. I'm not sure we got a single shot that has all of us smiling at the same time. Oh well, that's what photoshop is for, right?
The wedding was beautiful. Both the bride and the groom teared up. As my SIL reached the front of the chapel, her soon-to-be-husband was heard saying"You're beautiful, you're just so beautiful" over and over. I didn't quite tear up, but it was a close call at times. It was great to catch up with our family from out of town, especially those that just had babies. But the most special moment of all was seeing the marriage. My BIL has almost died numerous times in the last two years. We weren't sure he would be alive to get married. Seeing them pledge their love to each other was an answer to much prayer. We wish them many happy years together. :)
I must admit to having a weakness for men in suits, especially a certain big one and two littles. These are the very first suits for my little boys. They were so excited to have such lovely dressy clothes that Zane wanted to wear his home from the store. We didn't let him, but we did let him wear it again to church today. My hubby doesn't like wearing suits so I made sure to capture the occasion on camera(I'd say on film, but that doesn't really work anymore).
Veronica, my dear friend who braided my hair when my arm was broken, helped with my hair for the wedding. We divided it into two sections and twisted it up. While she was doing my hair, Keisha and
Bianca, other mommies from the complex came over to help. Personally, I think they just wanted to observe the very rare occurrence of our family being dressed up. Even after we were ready, they all hung out on our patio until we paraded past them in our finery. However, I did put them to work painting my fingernails. I'm not very good at doing my hair or nails, so it was great to have help. Fancy occasions in community are a lot of fun. :)
The wedding was beautiful. Both the bride and the groom teared up. As my SIL reached the front of the chapel, her soon-to-be-husband was heard saying"You're beautiful, you're just so beautiful" over and over. I didn't quite tear up, but it was a close call at times. It was great to catch up with our family from out of town, especially those that just had babies. But the most special moment of all was seeing the marriage. My BIL has almost died numerous times in the last two years. We weren't sure he would be alive to get married. Seeing them pledge their love to each other was an answer to much prayer. We wish them many happy years together. :)
Friday, August 5, 2011
Answered Prayer: The Dress
As we've wandered through some treacherous ground, my faith has gotten tattered. Trusting God has become a scary place, one that I don't willingly go. My prayer time and faith life have suffered. As I cling to the remnants of my faith, encouraging my children in their faith has helped. As God answers prayers, I toss out others. He continues to answer, I continue to pray and my faith mends one stitch at a time.
My SIL is getting married in eight days. She has requested that our family look presentable(ie that her brother wear a suit). We realized that our boys should probably also look nice. Off to the mall we went in search of fancy clothing. We found matching suits for our boys and a very nice dress for Aris. As they tried on their fancy clothing, I realized that the dress I was wearing(the one I was planning on wearing to the wedding) wasn't as nice. As my size has changed often over the last several years, I don't have a lot of nice clothing anymore. I've looked for dresses, but it's really hard to find something nice and affordable. I had been praying for months that I would find something, but no such luck.
Until today. After choosing the children's clothing, I prayed very specifically to find a pretty dress, with a crinoline, that looked good on me and was affordable. Then I wandered over to the dress section. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that all the dresses were on sale today! After picking an armload of dresses and trying them on, Aris and I went back to the rack to find a different size. While we were there, a pink and black dress caught my eye. It isn't one that I would normally wear, but I tossed caution to the winds and tried it on. Oh! It fit, looked great and wonder of wonder had been marked down to $26!
Coming home I just had to write about my answer to prayer. Slowly slowly, one bit at a time, my faith is being healed. Thank you, God!
My SIL is getting married in eight days. She has requested that our family look presentable(ie that her brother wear a suit). We realized that our boys should probably also look nice. Off to the mall we went in search of fancy clothing. We found matching suits for our boys and a very nice dress for Aris. As they tried on their fancy clothing, I realized that the dress I was wearing(the one I was planning on wearing to the wedding) wasn't as nice. As my size has changed often over the last several years, I don't have a lot of nice clothing anymore. I've looked for dresses, but it's really hard to find something nice and affordable. I had been praying for months that I would find something, but no such luck.
Until today. After choosing the children's clothing, I prayed very specifically to find a pretty dress, with a crinoline, that looked good on me and was affordable. Then I wandered over to the dress section. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that all the dresses were on sale today! After picking an armload of dresses and trying them on, Aris and I went back to the rack to find a different size. While we were there, a pink and black dress caught my eye. It isn't one that I would normally wear, but I tossed caution to the winds and tried it on. Oh! It fit, looked great and wonder of wonder had been marked down to $26!
Coming home I just had to write about my answer to prayer. Slowly slowly, one bit at a time, my faith is being healed. Thank you, God!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Teddy Bear Snuggles
"Mama, I need you to 'nuggle me"
says the little boy.
We are creating, whisking sugar into egg whites when I first hear him call. My return calls go unanswered, so I continue whipping frothy white peaks. I hear him again just as the bowl goes crashing to the ground. White decorates the ground, beaters lying askew in clouds of white. Much remains in the bowl despite its summersault. Good thing it wasn't a runnier mixture. As I wipe floor, rewash beaters and dry hands, I hear him call with greater urgency. Surrendering my plans to his needs, the bowls left on the counter, I head downstairs.
He is sitting, sad. He asks to be snuggled, explaining that he is just so sad without his mommy snuggles. I crawl into bed with him, wrapping him tight. Those little arms reach up to wrap me in turn. "Am I your teddy bear, or are you mine?" I ask. He thinks. So tired that his words get muddled up, he finally spits out that he is my teddy bear. I kiss his hair, hug him tight. Remembering how before children I went to sleep each night with a teddy bear. My arms would clutch Teddy tight to my chest all through the night. All through my childhood until the day I became a mother, my teddy slept with me.
Teddy no longer lives at my house, having been passed on long ago. Instead of teddy bears, I snuggled with babies until now I long for sleep without anything touching me. Funny, that. As I cradle my big little boy close pretending that he is my teddy bear, I ponder those days and the desire I had to hold something while I slept. Could this be a desire God placed within so that I would treasure those little ones even in my sleep?
His breathing evens out, I untangle myself and tiptoe back upstairs to finish my baking. But as I measure, fold and spoon meringue on to baking sheets I remember the wonder of little babies asleep next to me. As I drift off to bed tonight, I will enjoy the wonder of a bed empty of children.
Joining with Emily as she cuddles her newborn;
says the little boy.
We are creating, whisking sugar into egg whites when I first hear him call. My return calls go unanswered, so I continue whipping frothy white peaks. I hear him again just as the bowl goes crashing to the ground. White decorates the ground, beaters lying askew in clouds of white. Much remains in the bowl despite its summersault. Good thing it wasn't a runnier mixture. As I wipe floor, rewash beaters and dry hands, I hear him call with greater urgency. Surrendering my plans to his needs, the bowls left on the counter, I head downstairs.
He is sitting, sad. He asks to be snuggled, explaining that he is just so sad without his mommy snuggles. I crawl into bed with him, wrapping him tight. Those little arms reach up to wrap me in turn. "Am I your teddy bear, or are you mine?" I ask. He thinks. So tired that his words get muddled up, he finally spits out that he is my teddy bear. I kiss his hair, hug him tight. Remembering how before children I went to sleep each night with a teddy bear. My arms would clutch Teddy tight to my chest all through the night. All through my childhood until the day I became a mother, my teddy slept with me.
Teddy no longer lives at my house, having been passed on long ago. Instead of teddy bears, I snuggled with babies until now I long for sleep without anything touching me. Funny, that. As I cradle my big little boy close pretending that he is my teddy bear, I ponder those days and the desire I had to hold something while I slept. Could this be a desire God placed within so that I would treasure those little ones even in my sleep?
His breathing evens out, I untangle myself and tiptoe back upstairs to finish my baking. But as I measure, fold and spoon meringue on to baking sheets I remember the wonder of little babies asleep next to me. As I drift off to bed tonight, I will enjoy the wonder of a bed empty of children.
Joining with Emily as she cuddles her newborn;
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Little Girl Baker
I never know what to expect after Aris has been away for awhile. Transitioning back home is challenging, although I must admit it's gotten much easier over the years. The longer visits are always harder and this time she was gone over a week. Normally there is much acting out, yelling and screaming after her return. It isn't pleasant. But that wasn't what happened this time.
Yesterday afternoon Aris returned home. Upon arrival, she wandered into the kitchen and began to create. Her brother had convinced me to buy a sack of peanuts in the shell which we had left on the counter. Aris began to shell and chop the peanuts. When she had enough, she added brown sugar and a small amount of peanut butter creating a lovely topping for ice cream. We just happened to have homemade blueberry ice cream in the freezer. Soooo good! And in the midst of her creating, there wasn't any drama.
Today was similar. Although she did have a few minor meltdowns, instead of freaking out she baked. Lemon cookies in the afternoon and then meringues this evening. Delicious! Aris and I finished off most of the meringues long before they had even cooled. Even better than her yummy creations were how well she handled the transition. Perhaps we've found a cure?
Somehow I think my little girl takes after her mama. :)
Yesterday afternoon Aris returned home. Upon arrival, she wandered into the kitchen and began to create. Her brother had convinced me to buy a sack of peanuts in the shell which we had left on the counter. Aris began to shell and chop the peanuts. When she had enough, she added brown sugar and a small amount of peanut butter creating a lovely topping for ice cream. We just happened to have homemade blueberry ice cream in the freezer. Soooo good! And in the midst of her creating, there wasn't any drama.
Today was similar. Although she did have a few minor meltdowns, instead of freaking out she baked. Lemon cookies in the afternoon and then meringues this evening. Delicious! Aris and I finished off most of the meringues long before they had even cooled. Even better than her yummy creations were how well she handled the transition. Perhaps we've found a cure?
Somehow I think my little girl takes after her mama. :)
Monday, August 1, 2011
Travelling Mercies- MM 73-120
I haven't posted in far too long for Multitude Mondays. Consequently, my handwritten list has started to back up. Some of the following items are dated while others are much more recent. It is good to remember why I have been thankful. :)
73. A new day with new mercies.
74. Pink lilies blooming, my weedwhacked flowers replaced.
75. Bright sunlight slanting across the walk.
76. No screaming this morning.
77. A beautiful bouquet on my kitchen table.
78. A good conversation with a friend, the youth pastor I used to serve under.
79. No one throwing up on the drive to camp.
80. Swimming in the perfectly cool lake after the very hot drive to camp.
81. Friends to share meals and children with.
82. Seeing Zane try harder because of his friend. He's actively trying to swim now.
83. Meals that I haven't had to prepare.
84. Being invited over for dinner by parents of new friends and the lovely conversation that followed.
85. Encouraging and insightful inter-faith conversations.
86. A day without pain after a night with very little sleep.
87. Grace to get through the next day.
88. How sticks and mud can change the landscape(beaver dam).
89. Lots of friends for Aris to hang out with.
90. Being surrounded by parents who understand the reality of special children.
91. " Mommy, thank you for praying for me last night. It really helped."
92. A safe journey to Maryland.
93. AAA accepting our CAA membership.
94. Cheerful, prompt rescuing.
95. A delicious dinner.
96. Helpful and cheerful hotel staff.
97. Protection during metro travel. I didn't get seriously hurt when the metro doors closed on me.
98. A friendly chat with a stranger headed the same way we were.
99. Meeting a Zane Thomas, so close to my little man's name.
100. The glories and variety of God's creation.
101. Baby ostriches.
102. Baby flamingos.
103. Air-conditioned places to rest.
104. Union Station!
105. Finding a Chipotle and the delicious burrito from there I consumed for dinner.
106. A man who gave up his seat for me on the subway. I hope it wasn't because he thought I was pregnant!
107. A thoughtful, organized heavenly-minded friend to go adventuring with.
108. The ability to remember where I came from and how to get back.
109. A swim in a cool pool.
110. WiFi. Free WiFi.
111. The ability to call my family when I am away.
112. My boys had a good day without me.
113. A safe arrival home.
114. Times of reflection, prayer and renewal.
115. A friendship that began in grade nine band class.
116. God's perfection provision that I would not fully appreciated for many years to come.
117. Being home.
118. The emptying of my stress tank.
119. The freedom to be silly.
120. A bear blowing kisses at sunset.
73. A new day with new mercies.
74. Pink lilies blooming, my weedwhacked flowers replaced.
75. Bright sunlight slanting across the walk.
76. No screaming this morning.
77. A beautiful bouquet on my kitchen table.
78. A good conversation with a friend, the youth pastor I used to serve under.
79. No one throwing up on the drive to camp.
80. Swimming in the perfectly cool lake after the very hot drive to camp.
81. Friends to share meals and children with.
82. Seeing Zane try harder because of his friend. He's actively trying to swim now.
83. Meals that I haven't had to prepare.
84. Being invited over for dinner by parents of new friends and the lovely conversation that followed.
85. Encouraging and insightful inter-faith conversations.
86. A day without pain after a night with very little sleep.
87. Grace to get through the next day.
88. How sticks and mud can change the landscape(beaver dam).
89. Lots of friends for Aris to hang out with.
90. Being surrounded by parents who understand the reality of special children.
91. " Mommy, thank you for praying for me last night. It really helped."
92. A safe journey to Maryland.
93. AAA accepting our CAA membership.
94. Cheerful, prompt rescuing.
95. A delicious dinner.
96. Helpful and cheerful hotel staff.
97. Protection during metro travel. I didn't get seriously hurt when the metro doors closed on me.
98. A friendly chat with a stranger headed the same way we were.
99. Meeting a Zane Thomas, so close to my little man's name.
100. The glories and variety of God's creation.
101. Baby ostriches.
102. Baby flamingos.
103. Air-conditioned places to rest.
104. Union Station!
105. Finding a Chipotle and the delicious burrito from there I consumed for dinner.
106. A man who gave up his seat for me on the subway. I hope it wasn't because he thought I was pregnant!
107. A thoughtful, organized heavenly-minded friend to go adventuring with.
108. The ability to remember where I came from and how to get back.
109. A swim in a cool pool.
110. WiFi. Free WiFi.
111. The ability to call my family when I am away.
112. My boys had a good day without me.
113. A safe arrival home.
114. Times of reflection, prayer and renewal.
115. A friendship that began in grade nine band class.
116. God's perfection provision that I would not fully appreciated for many years to come.
117. Being home.
118. The emptying of my stress tank.
119. The freedom to be silly.
120. A bear blowing kisses at sunset.
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