Happy New Year!

It’s the last day of 2010. Typically I feel like it’s a strange day – a “one last chance” kind of day. But this year, I have no desire to make any resolutions for next year. It’s a good way to make yourself feel like a failure. If I had to make a resolution, it would be to keep on chugging, one day at a time. I suppose I hope that by this time next year, I have more positive thoughts about myself than negative ones.

Anyway, here are the pictures of the kids I promised:

Sienna did this 100 piece puzzle all by herself with no help!

Kaylee in her pretty Christmas clothes. And sunglasses. And pink sparkly tennis shoes.

Gosh, they are cute.

Really cute!

Our family at Grandma's house on Christmas Eve.

Preparing to open gifts.

What could it be?

To infinity and beyond!

There's a snake in my boot!

Yodel-eh-hee-hoo!

Mid-Holiday Blues

I like routines. Maybe that’s what’s got me a little off-kilter right now. I absolutely love having Tom home, we’ve been super lazy except for the days we’ve had to go somewhere. It’s been really nice. But I miss having some personal time during naps to write and edit and look around for someone who might possibly be interested in publishing my stuff. I also miss school. Only because it was a writing class and there were other people who loved writing as much as I do.

I’m also in that “I’ll never amount to anything” mood. Mostly because I haven’t heard back from the place I submitted my stuff to. They said it could take 8 weeks and it’s only been 4. But I don’t feel very encouraged.

I also feel lonely – because for so many days in a row, we were doing something with people and now we are not.

I’m tired, too.

BUT!! I made it through Christmas without obsessing over food. I really feel like I listened to my body. I ate when I was hungry and waited to eat more until I was hungry again. That’s a good feeling.

Other than that, not much happening. So I’ll stop boring you – but pictures of my kids and their multitudes of presents will be forthcoming. 🙂

Cinnamon Rolls for Christmas

I remember my childhood Christmases with great fondness. We had so much fun on Christmas Eve every year. We went to my grandma’s house (across the street) and played all day with my cousins and did gift exchanges and had to show everyone what we got. And we played card games and Tripoli and ate way too many cookies. When evening came, we went to church for a candlelight service. After that, we came home and watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” while my mom got stuff ready for the next day’s meal with my dad’s side of the family. When she was done, my sister and I got to open our Christmas presents. Christmas Day, my other grandparents and aunt and uncle came over and we ate more, played more and watched more movies. Those were the days, eh?

It was like that every year except the year where my mom’s dad passed away. That was not a great year. Still, the tradition picked up again after that and lasted for a long time. It was around the time that all us cousins started getting married that we weren’t always able to meet Christmas Eve. And we didn’t go back to my parents’ house after church. And my dad’s parents died. It made me cherish those sweet memories all the more.

Now we have kids and I really want to make Christmastime as special for them as it was for us. The only problem is that there doesn’t seem to be a way to keep things consistent year after year. We don’t know exactly when my sister and her family will come each year and we also have to work around other family’s schedules. The only thing I CAN control is where we will  wake up on Christmas morning (as long as we aren’t on vacation or something). At home.

I decided that this year (and hopefully every year for a long long time) I am going to make homemade cinnamon rolls for Christmas breakfast and Christmas morning will be spent with just us and the kids. We can go see my side of the family or Tom’s side after lunch, but that morning is going to be ours. I have no expectations that I’ll be able to sit the kids down and read a long story of Jesus’ birth, but I do know that we can give them a shortened version. And we get each kid three gifts – just like Jesus got. I hope it keeps things simple and pure and memorable for them. I hope that when they are 30, they will miss these days as much as I miss my childhood.

Confessions

I am not in a great mental state right now. I know I’ve gained a few pounds – enough to make some of my pants a little snug. I know I’m not fat. I know it’s not a big deal. I’m just not sure how the heck I’m supposed to stop obsessing about food when every bite is accompanied by a war in my head.

I want chocolate.

Go get some.

I shouldn’t, I just want it because it sounds good.

That’s ok, a little piece won’t hurt.

Just thinking about eating one piece makes me feel fat.

Ok, then don’t eat it.

But I want some chocolate.

Fine, have some chocolate.

I shouldn’t, I’m not hungry.

But you’re allowed to eat whatever you want – you’re free.

If being free means being fat, I don’t want to be free.

That last line really pierces me right to the heart. I didn’t even acknowledge that thought until just now…

I feel extremely out of love with my body right now. I can “feel” a coating of fat all over me. I know that sounds extreme and stupid (especially considering that I’m not big at all). I think that I can easily lose a few pounds by making better choices – eating better things when I’m hungry. But if I eat an apple instead of chips, I still want some chips. Then I think I shouldn’t worry about losing weight – my weight is not an issue. However, I want my clothes to fit. I don’t want to go buy new clothes, I want MY clothes to fit. Comfortably.

Putting on jeans that are a little tight makes me think about how I feel so fat and even if I know I’m not, I can’t stop thinking about it because every time I move my jeans remind me of it.

I don’t have a game plan right now. I sure wish I did. I feel like I ought to go back to my counselor – maybe twice a month for a while. On the other hand, I remember a lot of what she told me. (Here’s my mind saying, “But that doesn’t apply now that your pants are too tight.”)

I want to make it through the holiday season without feeling guilty (for eating too much). That’s all. Is that too much to ask? I don’t want food to be the focus of the time I’m spending with my family.

I told you I wrote that story about being free. I’m still working on shaping it up. But gosh, it’s the most honest thing I’ve ever written. Basically, it’s about how I torture myself with all my thoughts, how much pain I’m causing myself and I know there’s a way out, but when I get out there – the enemy is still attacking me with his bull-crap.

“What a wretched man I am! Who will save me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Romans 7:24-25a (NIV)

When you just can’t keep it in…. literally

I have so many things to muse about.

Snow.

Christmas gifts.

Christmas shopping.

Puzzles. (Sienna can now do a 100 piece puzzle all by herself!)

But I think I’ll talk about how sick I was this weekend. Let me start off by saying that Tom had to work like 80 hours last week – or more. It was insane. He was able to do a lot from home, but having someone sitting next to you whose mind is on another planet is not really being “together”. So Friday night, I asked my mom if she would take the kids overnight so that Tom and I could just relax and do nothing.

God must have told me to do it, because if there was ever a time when I needed to have the kids be somewhere else, it was then. The evening went nicely – just eating sandwiches, relaxing and watching RiffTrax. (www.rifftrax.com) We even went to bed before ten. Tom, as per usual, was asleep in one second. I, on the other hand, had a troublesome rumble in my belly.

There’s a terrible stomach bug that goes around every year, it seems. I have been fortunate that none of my kids ever actually puked before last year, when they were old enough to get to a toilet (or their bucket) after the first horrid mess. We all know how awful vomit is, so I will speak of it no further. Suffice it to say, that the bug is making its rounds again right now.

As I lay in bed, I hoped it was just that I had eaten too many no-bake cookies. But after visiting the toilet for the fourth time, I realized that it was not to be. I don’t know if I slept at all that night. I do know that at one point, I asked Tom to get me some ginger ale (must have been around 3:30) and he asked if he had to drive somewhere to get it.

The next day, I can’t say how glad I was that the kids were not at our house. I wasn’t losing anything from my stomach or intestines anymore, but oh, I felt so miserably achy and nauseated. I watched TV from our room until Tom put the sheets into the washing machine, then I watched TV from the couch.

Tom went to get the kids in the evening and when he brought them home, they looked at me like I would break. I felt so bad for them! It’s the first time in a long time that they’ve seen Mommy sick.

So, obviously, I’m pretty much better now – still a bit queasy when I eat, but I was hungry for normal food today. So you’re now wondering why I spent all that time telling you about how sick I felt.

It’s because I had to stop myself from feeling glad that I wasn’t eating hardly any calories the past few days. Pathetic. It’s crazy that my mind goes there still. At least I know it and am choosing to ignore it. It’s just so frustrating to be glad I couldn’t keep anything down because I felt like I’d over-eaten…

The saga continues.

Waiting with Bated Breath

My brain is a strange thing. One day, I think I’m a great writer – I think everyone will like what I write and only morons will reject my work. Then I submit something. (Which I’ve only done twice and both times have been in the past week.) Then I start second-guessing myself. Just because I think something is funny, maybe it’s not.

Maybe I’m like one of those poor saps on American Idol. All their friends tell them they can sing really well because they don’t have the heart to tell them that they actually stink. I don’t think I stink. But maybe everyone is afraid to tell me I do.

Then again, last night, I read a piece of satire to my class and they were all rolling around laughing. Even my professor.

I actually know what part of the problem is. I rely too much on Tom’s opinion. He’s thinks I’m a good writer, but the stuff I write about just isn’t want he’d normally read. So asking him to read something I wrote and then give me an opinion is like him reading off some of the computer programming he’s done and asking me how I think he did. Of course I know he’s smart and does a great job at what he does. I just don’t get it so how can I give him an actual opinion?

If I had more self-confidence I’d just say, “That’s ok, honey. You don’t have to read it.” As it is, I’m just terrified that I’m horrible and I’ll never succeed.

The good news is, I’ve submitted stuff that I thought was pretty good even though I’m scared. That’s more than I could say ever before.

“Christians” produce a lot of rotten apples

Hi, my name is Kathy and I’d rather not be associated with what people generally refer to as Christians.

People throw around the phrase “America is a Christian nation” all the time. Really? If being a Christian means sitting on a hard pew listening to a preacher who may or may not be interesting every Sunday, maybe throwing a few bucks into the offering plate, and praying to God when someone you know is dying or some other tragedy has occurred – Oh! and even going on a missions trip or two – then yeah, America is a Christian nation.

Recently, I’ve become friends with people who hold vastly different beliefs than I do (in other words, they are not Christians). I wondered how on earth I’m supposed to “witness” to them because they are all intelligent people who aren’t just gonna accept Jesus simply because I tell them they need Him, especially given the way most “Christians” portray Jesus these days. Then it struck me that making friends is really the heart of what Jesus did. He hung out with tax collectors and sinners – the “immoral” people of the day. He didn’t condone their behavior, but He didn’t condemn them, either. In fact, the only people He ever got angry with were the religious leaders. Men who considered themselves more holy than everyone else – the ones who stood out in public declaring to God how wonderful they were. Who followed the letter of the law to the nth degree but who all missed the point.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that if Jesus were here today, He’d be doing the same thing. The “church” is full of religious bigots who look all goody-goody on the outside, but – as Jesus put it – on the inside are full of rotting filth. I found this quote on USAtoday’s website:

“A new survey of U.S. adults who don’t go to church, even on holidays, finds 72% say “God, a higher or supreme being, actually exists.” But just as many (72%) also say the church is “full of hypocrites.” ”

Later in the same article, “And 79% say “Christianity today is more about organized religion than loving God and loving people.””

I can’t say that I blame them. Jesus told us that you can tell what a person is like by the fruit they bear. Good trees bear good fruit and bad trees bear bad fruit. He told us the the “world” would know we were Christians by our love – not by a fish sticker on your bumper or a Jesus t-shirt or even where you are at 10:00 every Sunday morning. The Bible says that the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. If I asked people described “Christians” – particularly in America – I don’t think they would use many (if any) of those words.

It’s pretty obvious that something is wrong with our “Christian nation” when more people are “unchurched” now than ever before. People see the fruit of the “church” and it’s pretty rotten. Who would be drawn to a place full of hateful, lying hypocrites? The good news is that not all Christians are that way – some of us actually believe what we say and we also know that we have no right to judge others because it’s not our job. (Jesus said it, not me!) Real Christians practice their religion by taking care of the poor, putting others before themselves, and by loving people unconditionally – the way God loves them. Real Christians admit that they aren’t perfect and never will be. Wouldn’t it be awesome if people associated Christians with love instead of hate? As genuine people instead of hypocrites? Wouldn’t it be awesome if America actually was a Christian nation?

Sing it with me: I’m beginning to feel a lot like binging!

I’ve got an eating disorder. And Christmas is coming. There’s all kinds of crazy-good foods everywhere already and I’m feeling like I’m going to go insane. Last year, I exercised like a fiend and counted calories and then binged because I felt guilty for going over my daily allotment of calories. (Yeah, it makes sense doesn’t it? Eat more because you feel guilty about eating too much?) I didn’t enjoy much of anything I ate either because it all made me feel like a failure.

So here we are, months of counseling and soul-searching later. It’s hard to leave an obsession behind without replacing it with a new one. I want to set a goal for myself to make it through the holidays without guilt (notice I didn’t say without gaining weight) but I don’t know how to do that without making it an obsession. I thought about attacking all my skinny friends and stuffing food down their throats instead of my own when I’m feeling guilty, but somehow, I don’t think they would appreciate being tackled. I considered a reward system, but typically I like to reward myself with food, and well… that’s not the best idea under these circumstances. I almost confiscated my kids’ sticker charts, but they caught me in the act. (For the record, I also considered just taking the plates of “goodies” and flushing them down the toilet but my husband didn’t think our hosts would appreciate that. I thought they’d be glad to get rid of the temptation, but oh well.)

I finally decided that my goal for the season will be to actually interact with humans instead of just the food. I recently found out (at Thanksgiving) that houses have other rooms apart from the kitchen. What an amazing revelation! In the past, I would nod and smile at people while trying to ignore the chocolates and cookies and cheesecakes screaming at me from the table next to me. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying that I can’t have any treats. My problem is that when I do indulge in a treat, I feel guilty, so I eat it really fast before I can reconsider. But then I don’t actually taste the food and I want more. I eventually shovel so much food into my mouth that my stomach hurts and all I want to do is make myself throw up. Then I want to tie myself to the treadmill so that I will be forced to burn off all those extra calories. Perhaps, if I weren’t standing next to the food and staring at it, I wouldn’t obsess so much. While food is generally good at listening, it doesn’t provide much entertainment – or comfort for that matter. I’m thinking that if I make eye contact with people (instead of the ham), I’ll feel much more satisfied by the time we go home.

I’ll leave you with the inspirational words of Miracle Max (and his lovely wife) in the movie “Princess Bride”:

“Think it’ll work?”

“It’ll take a miracle.”

Here’s to a miraculous Christmas season.