While celebrating his mother's birthday, Steve wandered into his parent's basement and found the Star Wars Monopoly game he purchased in 1998. After some begging from his son, we played this game for the very first time on Sunday. Yes, it sat unplayed for 12 years! Now it seems we are making up for lost time.
From time to time our family enjoys "snacky suppers". So tonight we made popcorn for dinner and ate while playing Monopoly. Surprisingly our children did very well. The older two are very competitive, which means some games end in tears and tantrums. We tried our best to minimize this by telling them that the winner was the person who had the most fun. :) Aris won with Zane in close second.
After the kids were in bed, Steve went out for grown-up food(shawarma). When he returned, we played. It was an interesting game with Steve ending up in jail 4 times. He was a wee bit frustrated. We had a lot of fun playing even though I won by a little bit more than he did. Okay, four hundred credits more, but that's not a lot really. Playing with my family and then just with my husband were extremely fun experiences. I'm hopeful that our next family gaming experience will go well. Even if it doesn't, I'm going to remember tonight as proof that we can all have fun together. :) *happy sigh*
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Clinging Exhaustion
Exhaustion is pulling at my bones again, making accomplishing anything almost impossible. Bread was made with "help" from Kian. Laundry was on my list, but sadly carrying the basket of dirty clothes and leaving in the living room does not count as an accomplishment. I'm sitting here feeling guilty as my wonderful husband cleans the kitchen. I wanted to, really I did, but feeling faint does not lend itself to accomplishing much.
It's been a good weekend. Aris and I took part in a women's event at the church we're attending. We spent about six hours cooking together. Not only do I now have 6 meals(we made 8, but i gave one away and ate one for supper tonight), I also know more people at church! Slowly we are getting to know people and feeling much more comfortable there. Aris will be singing in the choir for Christmas and all of our children are feeling much more comfortable there. It's a good thing. :)
Yesterday was a beautiful day. We used an almost expired coupon at one of my favourite restaurants. The children behaved beautifully! We dropped Aris off at my parents and then continued home. Kian fell asleep in the car and stayed asleep for almost two hours. We took advantage of his nap to play Star Wars Monopoly with Zane. Initially I was lagging far behind, but somehow I ended up winning by a considerable amount. I was sad that we had to stop. On the other hand, Steve was more than happy to quit. Normally he wins every game we play. It's rare that I have the advantage. :)
Although this exhaustion is frustrating me, I'm so glad that we had a good weekend. The sadness and pain of last year still weighs on me, on both of us, but we are finding some measure of healing. For that, I am extremely thankful!
It's been a good weekend. Aris and I took part in a women's event at the church we're attending. We spent about six hours cooking together. Not only do I now have 6 meals(we made 8, but i gave one away and ate one for supper tonight), I also know more people at church! Slowly we are getting to know people and feeling much more comfortable there. Aris will be singing in the choir for Christmas and all of our children are feeling much more comfortable there. It's a good thing. :)
Yesterday was a beautiful day. We used an almost expired coupon at one of my favourite restaurants. The children behaved beautifully! We dropped Aris off at my parents and then continued home. Kian fell asleep in the car and stayed asleep for almost two hours. We took advantage of his nap to play Star Wars Monopoly with Zane. Initially I was lagging far behind, but somehow I ended up winning by a considerable amount. I was sad that we had to stop. On the other hand, Steve was more than happy to quit. Normally he wins every game we play. It's rare that I have the advantage. :)
Although this exhaustion is frustrating me, I'm so glad that we had a good weekend. The sadness and pain of last year still weighs on me, on both of us, but we are finding some measure of healing. For that, I am extremely thankful!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Down Winter Roads
I drove away today past the roads I know, down country roads through blowing snow. Anxiety sat on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, grabbing at my heart. Passing Mennonite buggies, I shuddered at the thought of hitting ice, loosing control and hitting one. My hands clenched, breath ran shallow. Then I remembered. "For God did not give you a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind". I repeated 'til breathing eased and fingers unclenched. I hate that first winter drive through blowing snow and icy roads. My winter driving skills have been unneeded, tucked away with mittens through the beautiful spring, summer and fall. Now they are unearthed and I have to ease back into those once familiar patterns.
After stopping to remove my son's jacket, we finally arrived. My friend's new house our destination. She left the city for small town, exchanging cookie cutter for an older house with high ceilings, patterned wallpaper and transoms with original glass. I loved her house! Old houses awake joy in me. I love the strange cupboards, shelves and hide-aways. The quirks of layout making each one unique, with discoveries to be made. The houses now are so boring, so unoriginal. I want to live in an old house with an attic I could curl up in with a book. As this is unlikely, I soaked up this house of a friend, exclaimed over the bathroom separated from the sink, the unique light fixtures that so perfectly matched each room, the ancient patterned and sometimes textured wallpaper, the frosted transoms, the original wood door and the attic. I loved all of my friend's house! So we sat and toured and had lunch together while our children played. I fed the baby whose birth I watched and marvelled at how he has grown. Although the drive was intimidating with unknown, snow-swept roads, it shan't keep me away any longer.
Later, the whole family aboard, our van travelled past fields ready for winter's sleep once more. This time my baby happily exclaimed "i see corn fields! i yuv corn!" Soon after uttering those phrases, he began chanting "CORN ON COB! CORN ON COB! CORN ON COB! " Utterly adorable! We hurried through icy wind to farmhouse old where we dined with friends. Then, dishes cleared and coffee cups held hostage*, we dumped out our bags of purchased goodies and assembled boxes for faraway children. Aris and I did one together for a girl about her age. She choose and packed, arranging each item multiple times. Then we filled out a sheet and coloured it in too so that this little girl will know Aris who likes pink and has two brothers sent her a present. There was much joy here. We cut elastics, parcelled out soap, cups, pencils, erasers, socks, toys and other goodies for these children we will never know. We sneaked extras in our box so this little girl will have some to share. There was joy in doing and giving, joy in serving together. My hyper storm-souled girl was calm then, her fear erased by purpose.
I am tired now from busyness, hard conversations and lugging my beloved son everywhere. But it's a good tired. Tomorrow looms with new adventures, new friends to meet and make. So to bed I will go. Eventually. :)
*yes, i did literally hold coffee cups hostage. i helped clear the table before we started packing the boxes, and someone tried to keep his coffee cup. i told him that he must give it up but that if he behaved he would get it back after the boxes were packed. this worked well, until my FIL returned with his coffee cup freshly filled. i accused him of sabotaging my plan and headed back to the kitchen. he laughed! *sniff* :)
After stopping to remove my son's jacket, we finally arrived. My friend's new house our destination. She left the city for small town, exchanging cookie cutter for an older house with high ceilings, patterned wallpaper and transoms with original glass. I loved her house! Old houses awake joy in me. I love the strange cupboards, shelves and hide-aways. The quirks of layout making each one unique, with discoveries to be made. The houses now are so boring, so unoriginal. I want to live in an old house with an attic I could curl up in with a book. As this is unlikely, I soaked up this house of a friend, exclaimed over the bathroom separated from the sink, the unique light fixtures that so perfectly matched each room, the ancient patterned and sometimes textured wallpaper, the frosted transoms, the original wood door and the attic. I loved all of my friend's house! So we sat and toured and had lunch together while our children played. I fed the baby whose birth I watched and marvelled at how he has grown. Although the drive was intimidating with unknown, snow-swept roads, it shan't keep me away any longer.
Later, the whole family aboard, our van travelled past fields ready for winter's sleep once more. This time my baby happily exclaimed "i see corn fields! i yuv corn!" Soon after uttering those phrases, he began chanting "CORN ON COB! CORN ON COB! CORN ON COB! " Utterly adorable! We hurried through icy wind to farmhouse old where we dined with friends. Then, dishes cleared and coffee cups held hostage*, we dumped out our bags of purchased goodies and assembled boxes for faraway children. Aris and I did one together for a girl about her age. She choose and packed, arranging each item multiple times. Then we filled out a sheet and coloured it in too so that this little girl will know Aris who likes pink and has two brothers sent her a present. There was much joy here. We cut elastics, parcelled out soap, cups, pencils, erasers, socks, toys and other goodies for these children we will never know. We sneaked extras in our box so this little girl will have some to share. There was joy in doing and giving, joy in serving together. My hyper storm-souled girl was calm then, her fear erased by purpose.
I am tired now from busyness, hard conversations and lugging my beloved son everywhere. But it's a good tired. Tomorrow looms with new adventures, new friends to meet and make. So to bed I will go. Eventually. :)
*yes, i did literally hold coffee cups hostage. i helped clear the table before we started packing the boxes, and someone tried to keep his coffee cup. i told him that he must give it up but that if he behaved he would get it back after the boxes were packed. this worked well, until my FIL returned with his coffee cup freshly filled. i accused him of sabotaging my plan and headed back to the kitchen. he laughed! *sniff* :)
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Prodigal Granddaughter
Since my friends moved, a year and a half now, I drive past my grandmother's house at least once a week. But I don't stop. We're close geographically, just not emotionally. At times I wrestle with this, especially given my close relationship with my other grandmother. I know the why, but I still don't like it. So at the family reunion on Sunday, I mentioned that we drive by every Thursday at noon, and would she like some guests for lunch? Several times before I left, she reminded me of our planned date.
Thursday came and my littlest one was in a mood. He fussed, fidgeted and fumed. He did not want to be held, he wanted that toy, no now this one. He wanted food or drink, then pushed it away untasted. He was a grump! Taking little grumps to Great-Grandmother's house for lunch is not a good idea. But I didn't want to cancel. I prayed, buckled in the protesting child and drove the few blocks from our friends to our grandmother's. Then I unbuckled and carted them in.
To find that my grandmother had laid a feast. There were rolls, mashed potatoes, corn, salad, a beautifully laid plate of sliced tomatoes, breaded chicken, baked beans and pie. She had set the table, all beautifully prepared for her honoured guests, this delinquent grandchild. Eating my grandmother's cooking occasionally fills me with unease as it can be fairly hit and miss, especially her pies. But today, it was wonderful! Her pie especially was fantastic, real pumpkin pie made completely from scratch. When she cooks good, she cooks real good! We sat and ate, my grumpy child rendered mute from shyness. He refused to sit anywhere but on my lap, darting accusatory looks at all who dared look at him, especially towards his great-uncle. He did drink juice, and suspiciously ate the corn, so I considered that progress. Eventually, slowly, he warmed up. He ate the pie and then, when my aunt arrived with her little charge, all three children ran around my grandmother's house like monkeys. Having raised six, my grandmother simply smiled, her nerves unfrazzled.
We drank tea, and I, this prodigal grandchild, felt welcomed at this table I have not sat at, this door I have not darkened in quite some time. I marvelled at this table set for me, this feast including pie for a grandchild that does not often come near. I hugged warmly, thanked deeply and set a date for two weeks hence where we will share lunch again, this granddaughter prodigal no more.
Thursday came and my littlest one was in a mood. He fussed, fidgeted and fumed. He did not want to be held, he wanted that toy, no now this one. He wanted food or drink, then pushed it away untasted. He was a grump! Taking little grumps to Great-Grandmother's house for lunch is not a good idea. But I didn't want to cancel. I prayed, buckled in the protesting child and drove the few blocks from our friends to our grandmother's. Then I unbuckled and carted them in.
To find that my grandmother had laid a feast. There were rolls, mashed potatoes, corn, salad, a beautifully laid plate of sliced tomatoes, breaded chicken, baked beans and pie. She had set the table, all beautifully prepared for her honoured guests, this delinquent grandchild. Eating my grandmother's cooking occasionally fills me with unease as it can be fairly hit and miss, especially her pies. But today, it was wonderful! Her pie especially was fantastic, real pumpkin pie made completely from scratch. When she cooks good, she cooks real good! We sat and ate, my grumpy child rendered mute from shyness. He refused to sit anywhere but on my lap, darting accusatory looks at all who dared look at him, especially towards his great-uncle. He did drink juice, and suspiciously ate the corn, so I considered that progress. Eventually, slowly, he warmed up. He ate the pie and then, when my aunt arrived with her little charge, all three children ran around my grandmother's house like monkeys. Having raised six, my grandmother simply smiled, her nerves unfrazzled.
We drank tea, and I, this prodigal grandchild, felt welcomed at this table I have not sat at, this door I have not darkened in quite some time. I marvelled at this table set for me, this feast including pie for a grandchild that does not often come near. I hugged warmly, thanked deeply and set a date for two weeks hence where we will share lunch again, this granddaughter prodigal no more.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Forgiveness
"I'm sorry..." the text read and with that my anger boiled over. I put the phone back in my pocket, an angry muttering running through my head. "Sorry, yeah, I'll show you sorry!" I wanted to respond like him, with angry words I don't use and phrases no Christian should utter so I didn't. The keyboard stayed closed.
Sunday was almost perfect, would have been perfect except for him. We were on our way to a family gathering, the first on my side I've been to in years. This family is so big, too big, for me to feel comfortable, so I avoid the reunions, afraid of rejection, of having to make conversation with the strangers that are my family. My grandma is one of 15, leaving me with great aunts and uncles that I don't even know the names of, me the one who loves to know names, couldn't even fill out the family tree on my grandmother's side. It's sad. There are a couple aunts and uncles I know, ones that I cherish, but haven't seen in far too long. The recent deaths on my husbands side remind me this, so I determine to go to the next family function, a birthday celebration for one of my great-uncles.
We stopped on our way to pick up Aris. But he was waiting, and stabbed me with his words before I could even knock on the door. The accusations were horrific, and there was no waiting for reply. Unsettled, I wanted to wait outside, but instead was herded in by his mother for more. He yelled and swore and accused, while I stood. I felt compassion for this man, so desperate, so broken, so far from the God he once loved. The unreasonable anger hurt, as did the accusations and complete inability to reason or listen, but there was a sense of sadness, grace and compassion towards him.
Finally, I escaped and bawled in my van. I was stuck, no ability to go by myself, to recover. Instead I sobbed for well over an hour with my poor babies and husband there with me. There was nowhere to go, no escape, no safe place to process. Just the van, on our way to a family function. It was bad. And I became angry at him, for what he put me through, for what my children were being exposed to, for taking away my joy of sharing a drive with my husband. We love long drives for then we talk and share time. Instead I was a wreck, out of control. It was not pretty.
My mom called, thinking she had seen our van. She struggled to decipher my words uttered through wracking sobs. She prayed. Steve prayed. My dad prayed. Slowly the tears stopped and I calmed. We arrived, and I shut down, playing with my iPod until my parents met us there. Then, taking a deep breath, with more prayer, we went in.
My great-uncle Charlie, whom I couldn't pick out in a crowd although all the siblings look strongly alike, but know that he was a fiddler of some renown, turned 90. My dad tells stories about his aunts and uncles, who danced and fiddled and made mischief and music. My great-aunt Lila is there, a beautiful butterfly broach pinned to her chest, eyes sparkling so you'd never know she'd lost both legs and can't dance anymore. I wanted to see her especially, one of my favourite great-aunts with her zest for life. I hugged her and showed off my babies and husband too, for she hadn't met any of them. My great-aunt Bertha, sister to my grandfather and my great-uncle Ted, brother to my grandmother(and married to each other) were there too. They didn't recognize me at first, so I grabbed my dad and came back. With him in tow, the connections were clear. It's been awhile since I've been known as Tom's girl. In such a large crowd, I didn't know how to introduce myself. Am I Tom's girl or Mavis' granddaughter? For the first time in quite awhile, Steve's wife didn't work.
So the day got better, even as I wrestled with emotions. The familiar darkness came back and has been lingering on this week, rushing in at odd hours. I'm weaker than normal, and the renewed energy that I been enjoying dried up again. I feel trapped, unable to communicate clearly. My nightmares are returning. I'm becoming paranoid again, scared to trust anyone at all.
Then this text, apologizing, came. My anger boiled. Steve was puzzled over my response. Hours later when I asked him why, he pointed out that this is probably the second apology we've gotten from him since we've been married. Hmm...that does mean something. So I ranted in my head, mused over forgiveness and why I don't want to offer him any. I know I must. Heavens, I counsel my children over and over that we forgive because God forgave us. Perhaps I don't feel forgiven. Drawing deep breath, I opened my phone and responded "I forgive you". The hurt is still there as is some anger. But the choice has been made. I will forgive because I am forgiven. Perhaps in time, this will be enough.
Joining with Emily today,
Sunday was almost perfect, would have been perfect except for him. We were on our way to a family gathering, the first on my side I've been to in years. This family is so big, too big, for me to feel comfortable, so I avoid the reunions, afraid of rejection, of having to make conversation with the strangers that are my family. My grandma is one of 15, leaving me with great aunts and uncles that I don't even know the names of, me the one who loves to know names, couldn't even fill out the family tree on my grandmother's side. It's sad. There are a couple aunts and uncles I know, ones that I cherish, but haven't seen in far too long. The recent deaths on my husbands side remind me this, so I determine to go to the next family function, a birthday celebration for one of my great-uncles.
We stopped on our way to pick up Aris. But he was waiting, and stabbed me with his words before I could even knock on the door. The accusations were horrific, and there was no waiting for reply. Unsettled, I wanted to wait outside, but instead was herded in by his mother for more. He yelled and swore and accused, while I stood. I felt compassion for this man, so desperate, so broken, so far from the God he once loved. The unreasonable anger hurt, as did the accusations and complete inability to reason or listen, but there was a sense of sadness, grace and compassion towards him.
Finally, I escaped and bawled in my van. I was stuck, no ability to go by myself, to recover. Instead I sobbed for well over an hour with my poor babies and husband there with me. There was nowhere to go, no escape, no safe place to process. Just the van, on our way to a family function. It was bad. And I became angry at him, for what he put me through, for what my children were being exposed to, for taking away my joy of sharing a drive with my husband. We love long drives for then we talk and share time. Instead I was a wreck, out of control. It was not pretty.
My mom called, thinking she had seen our van. She struggled to decipher my words uttered through wracking sobs. She prayed. Steve prayed. My dad prayed. Slowly the tears stopped and I calmed. We arrived, and I shut down, playing with my iPod until my parents met us there. Then, taking a deep breath, with more prayer, we went in.
My great-uncle Charlie, whom I couldn't pick out in a crowd although all the siblings look strongly alike, but know that he was a fiddler of some renown, turned 90. My dad tells stories about his aunts and uncles, who danced and fiddled and made mischief and music. My great-aunt Lila is there, a beautiful butterfly broach pinned to her chest, eyes sparkling so you'd never know she'd lost both legs and can't dance anymore. I wanted to see her especially, one of my favourite great-aunts with her zest for life. I hugged her and showed off my babies and husband too, for she hadn't met any of them. My great-aunt Bertha, sister to my grandfather and my great-uncle Ted, brother to my grandmother(and married to each other) were there too. They didn't recognize me at first, so I grabbed my dad and came back. With him in tow, the connections were clear. It's been awhile since I've been known as Tom's girl. In such a large crowd, I didn't know how to introduce myself. Am I Tom's girl or Mavis' granddaughter? For the first time in quite awhile, Steve's wife didn't work.
So the day got better, even as I wrestled with emotions. The familiar darkness came back and has been lingering on this week, rushing in at odd hours. I'm weaker than normal, and the renewed energy that I been enjoying dried up again. I feel trapped, unable to communicate clearly. My nightmares are returning. I'm becoming paranoid again, scared to trust anyone at all.
Then this text, apologizing, came. My anger boiled. Steve was puzzled over my response. Hours later when I asked him why, he pointed out that this is probably the second apology we've gotten from him since we've been married. Hmm...that does mean something. So I ranted in my head, mused over forgiveness and why I don't want to offer him any. I know I must. Heavens, I counsel my children over and over that we forgive because God forgave us. Perhaps I don't feel forgiven. Drawing deep breath, I opened my phone and responded "I forgive you". The hurt is still there as is some anger. But the choice has been made. I will forgive because I am forgiven. Perhaps in time, this will be enough.
Joining with Emily today,
Monday, November 22, 2010
Unplanned Gaming
Tonight looked pretty booked. I had a client meeting and a child to take to dance lessons. But the client was double-booked, and my daughter was "too sick" to go to dance. Then my friend and neighbour posted on facebook that she wanted to have a games night tonight. Perfecto! There wasn't any deep conversation, but we played a game with friends, laughed, drank deliciously flavoured decaf coffee and got to hold their 7 month old. It was good. Now to read a bit more of the Belgariad before bed. :)
Sunday, November 21, 2010
If Days Were Like Pages...
I'd take a knife to this one.
If I could cut out the big bad blotch in the middle, today would have been a perfect day. I looked nice in my new outfit and fabulous new scarf that my best friend Kate helped me purchase. Our family actually made it to church on time and snagged a seat with Kate and her family. Going to church with Kate is a joy. I'm so glad that we're attending the same church..when she's in town. :) For the first time in over a year, I wasn't scared of attending church nor hating that it was Sunday. Lacking both of those emotions today was beautiful.
After the bad stuff, we attended a family reunion with my parents. This was for my dad's side of the family. His mother is the youngest of fifteen children and one of her brothers was turning 90. This put four siblings in the 90 plus camp and it was great to see all of them. Now to be honest, I don't know a lot of my great aunts and uncles. There are just too many. But today was special because I got to see some of the ones that I'm closest to, or like the best. We waited until my parents arrived to go in, partially because that way our relatives would know who we are and so that I could stop crying. My parents were uber-helpful with our children who in turn felt much more at ease in the crowd with their grandparents there. I hadn't seen some of these relatives since my wedding if not longer, so it was very nice to introduce them to my children.
Steve's parents had invited us over for a wiener roast in their fireplace. We arrived there early, so Aris and I headed over to Kate's parents' house for tea. We had a lovely visit! At one point both Aris and Kate were sprawled on the floor looking at craft books while her mother and I visited. It was a blessing for Aris to have some calm, quiet, safe time after our challenging experience.
Then we tromped back through the yards to Steve's parents' house for dinner. My sister-in-law and her children joined us. We had a very nice evening, and my kids did really well until the end. Then Kian had a major meltdown.
There was a lot of good today. I'm not trying to be mysterious about what happened, I just don't feel like writing about it. Instead I'm trying to remember the good, the blessings, the joy that was there. I think it worked. :)
If I could cut out the big bad blotch in the middle, today would have been a perfect day. I looked nice in my new outfit and fabulous new scarf that my best friend Kate helped me purchase. Our family actually made it to church on time and snagged a seat with Kate and her family. Going to church with Kate is a joy. I'm so glad that we're attending the same church..when she's in town. :) For the first time in over a year, I wasn't scared of attending church nor hating that it was Sunday. Lacking both of those emotions today was beautiful.
After the bad stuff, we attended a family reunion with my parents. This was for my dad's side of the family. His mother is the youngest of fifteen children and one of her brothers was turning 90. This put four siblings in the 90 plus camp and it was great to see all of them. Now to be honest, I don't know a lot of my great aunts and uncles. There are just too many. But today was special because I got to see some of the ones that I'm closest to, or like the best. We waited until my parents arrived to go in, partially because that way our relatives would know who we are and so that I could stop crying. My parents were uber-helpful with our children who in turn felt much more at ease in the crowd with their grandparents there. I hadn't seen some of these relatives since my wedding if not longer, so it was very nice to introduce them to my children.
Steve's parents had invited us over for a wiener roast in their fireplace. We arrived there early, so Aris and I headed over to Kate's parents' house for tea. We had a lovely visit! At one point both Aris and Kate were sprawled on the floor looking at craft books while her mother and I visited. It was a blessing for Aris to have some calm, quiet, safe time after our challenging experience.
Then we tromped back through the yards to Steve's parents' house for dinner. My sister-in-law and her children joined us. We had a very nice evening, and my kids did really well until the end. Then Kian had a major meltdown.
There was a lot of good today. I'm not trying to be mysterious about what happened, I just don't feel like writing about it. Instead I'm trying to remember the good, the blessings, the joy that was there. I think it worked. :)
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