Cut it out!

Like most other people my age, I used to watch TGIF on Friday nights and one of my favorite shows was “Full House.” That was back when the Olsen twins were still innocent and cute and “family” TV was still safe for the whole family. There were a lot of cute catch phrases that came from that show, but the one that keeps coming to mind is Uncle Joey’s “Cut it out!” complete with the motions.

There are so many ways to interpret this phrase. The first that comes to mind (as my kids are currently repeating the same thing over and over and over and over) is CUT IT OUT! STOP!!!!! (Note the multiple exclamation points; this indicates something like shouting.) I try, oh I try, not to yell at them. I don’t want them to remember a shouting and angry mom. Yet, today, Ethan thought I had left my tablet at church because I was looking for it and Kaylee reminded me that I had taken it to our homeschool group. I knew I hadn’t left it there – it was in my box that I had brought home. He said, “Wow, Mommy, you are handling this much better than I thought you would. I was sure you’d freak out like you normally do.” Oh boy, I have to work on that.

“Cut it out” also means to use scissors to cut out something. My kids all have lots of things to cut out for their school work and they always ask for help. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that they need to practice using scissors so that they can get better at it, they always complain and ask me to do it. I’m sure I used to do the same thing to my mom (and teachers) and if I did, I’m sorry! I seem to have gotten the hang of it now, though.

But the thing that keeps sticking in my head when I think “cut it out” is in my life. To be sure, I’ve felt a “cease and desist” order on a lot of things in my schedule because I just can’t handle too much physically or mentally. And my brain keeps wandering back to hating my body and wishing I was thinner and had awesome muscle tone – “Cut it out!” I tell myself. And of course, I’m reminded that the reason my brain wanders like that is because my river of thoughts isn’t flowing in the right direction. See, I think I can “fix” my body (once I have this next surgery, I tell you, I’ll be able to do anything I ever wanted! Ha ha.) by exercising and perhaps starving myself (no worries, I won’t. I like chocolate and my homemade bread too much!). I make plans to start counting calories and to start exercising so that I can look the way I’ve dreamed my whole life. I also have found it way easier to tell people “no” when I’m asked to go places or do things that are just too much for me – I’ve found it freeing to not worry about if they care why I’m not going. Somehow, I’ve learned that I don’t give a rat’s nostril whether they are upset that I am not participating in whatever they are asking me to do. I’ve gotten better about being very purposeful in my purchasing decisions, even the little ones. We’ve got medical bills coming, once the insurance gets all sorted out, and I want to make sure I’m making wise choices.

And yet, I still feel so discouraged about nearly everything all the time. I’m short tempered, I’m depressed, I’m angry. I can’t figure out why.

Or maybe I can.

I need to “cut it out” – to cut out everything that isn’t Jesus. Sienna said it to me this morning, “Mama, God is all we need, isn’t He?”

There are people who don’t understand what it means to have a relationship with God – they think it’s all about religion and really, it has nothing to do with religion. They think of the Bible as an ancient book of pretty words that aren’t relevant today – archaic ideas and philosophies that can’t possibly do anything to bring life to someone whose heart is dying. Some people go to church every week and have never learned that Jesus is the Living Water – the source of life in the desert of depression. There’s no way I can force anyone to understand that getting the perfect body isn’t the way to accept themselves or that our identity isn’t found in our jobs, our families, or even our personalities. We spend our whole live trying to find fulfillment and purpose, trying to matter and we look everywhere but the one place we need to look.

I can hear voices in my head – friends who think that being a Christian means being intolerant and hypocritical – telling me that they want nothing to do with Jesus. All they can see are the things they have to cut out of their lives if they decide to follow Jesus. They don’t want to lose their freedom. But I can tell you with out a moment’s hesitation that giving up everything to follow Jesus is freedom. You don’t realize how much you won’t miss the things you gave up until you’ve lived without them a few days – it’s like any addiction, you have to give it up and yeah, it’s gonna hurt, but just think how amazing you’ll feel when you’ve made it past the withdraw!

I need to sign off for now, but there’s more coming – I promise. In the meantime, pray about what it means to “cut it out.” God’s just waiting to bless your socks off!

Happy Day Before All Saints’ Day

I’m always conflicted about what to do with holidays (or not-so-holy-days) because some Christians get all up in arms about celebrating a day steeped in evil traditions. They preach about how Halloween is the devil’s holiday, how people who worship satan revel in this day because people set aside their normal inhibitions and allow their kids to dress up as witches, vampires, and other scary things and falsely call it “cute.” They claim that anyone who participates in Halloween celebrations are compromising their faith. Not participating in Halloween is making a stand for their faith.

Yet other strong Christians view Halloween as a harmless day for kids to get dressed up and get candy. They see no reason to keep their children from having a good time with their friends at school parties or in neighborhood Trick or Treating. They say that obviously they don’t worship the devil and aren’t participating in any “evil” traditions. Halloween has changed from an evil day where devil-worshippers romp freely about to a day where kids get a chance to have a little fun dressing up as someone different – a chance to use their imaginations. It’s no big deal to dress up as something that “used to be evil” – there’s no such thing as witches anymore, they say. Besides, they add, rejecting Halloween and saying it’s evil is judgmental and a “turn off” to people who think Christians hate everyone who isn’t like them.

Then there are the Christians who offer “an alternative” – Trunk or Treat, where a bunch of people meet in a church parking lot to hand out candy in a “safe” environment. No gory costumes or evil decorations allowed. After all, it’s not fair to say that your kids can’t get to dress up at all! So rather than participate in normal Trick or Treating where their kids might be exposed to who knows what, they provide a fun place where everyone can enjoy themselves without “compromising their beliefs.” And, hey, everyone is invited, so they are even reaching out to “non-believers”!

The same thing happens with Christmas and Easter: Extremists say we shouldn’t even try to say these are “Christian” holidays – they both have pagan roots. Easter comes from Ishtar, a pagan godess who represented fertility. A quick Google search reveals some websites that claim Christians who celebrate Easter are not, in fact, celebrating the resurrection of Christ, but the tradition of idolizing the goddess of fertility – Easter eggs, ham, a giant bunny (reproducing like rabbits, I guess?), and even Lent and sunrise services are apparently connected to this occult holiday. Of course, at the opposite end are Christians who tell their kids the Easter Bunny is coming to bring them Easter Eggs so that we can rejoice in new life – symbolic of Jesus becoming the “first fruit” of the new resurrection and life. (Though I might argue that this would better be celebrated during the harvest?) Then there are those who say that they ignore the “pagan” parts and simply celebrate Jesus’ gift of his blood and life to cover and atone for our sins. And let’s not mention Santa, his reindeer or all the baggage people like to carry on about with Christmas. (You know that Christmas has nothing to do with the actual date of Jesus’ birth, don’t you?)

So what’s a person who loves Jesus and wants to show His love to the world supposed to do? Do I “take a stand” and reject everything that doesn’t come from Godly origins – to be an example of purity to the world? Or does that come across to the “world” as judgmental and intolerant? Isn’t that the image we want to avoid? Is there a middle ground? Is it possible to participate in any of it without compromising our beliefs?

For me it always comes down to the age old question (well, decades old question, anyway) – What would Jesus do?

Well, golly, I don’t know for sure. I don’t see Jesus dressing up as a vampire, but maybe as Superman? Would He hand out candy – or maybe spiritual tracts? What I do know is that He was not by any means intolerant of “bad people” in those days. He was far more critical of the religious people who judged everyone around them while ignoring the planks in their own eyes. (Matthew 7:3) And he called the religious people “whitewashed tombs” – clean on the outside, but full of rotting carcasses on the inside. (Matthew 23:27)

No matter what I do with my family, I don’t want to be a whitewashed tomb. Whatever I choose, I need to keep love at the forefront of my mind. Rather than saying, “Well, this is what we do,” and feeling like it must be the only way to do things – well, I think we ought to keep in mind that Jesus came to provide freedom for us – freedom from living under legalism and the law (the Old Testament Law, not that we can break our government’s laws). It’s good to have convictions and to live by them – but as Paul said, “Everything is permissible for us.” (1 Corinthians 10:23) Of course, he went on to say that “not everything is beneficial” for us. That means we have to use common sense and understanding as provided by the Holy Spirit – that there are things we have freedom to do, but that not all of them are wise. In other words, we are allowed to make choices based on prayer and what we feel God would approve of.  Christ died so that we could all make our own choices and live our lives in a way that is pleasing to Him – with only the desire to please Him and not anyone else. Our decisions shouldn’t be based on what anyone else thinks, but on the heart of God. Likewise, we shouldn’t worry about what others do or think – it’s not their opinions that matter.  It also means that we don’t have the right to impose our convictions on everyone else – we all have freedom! Rather than preaching my convictions about any particular holiday tradition to everyone else, I need to live out what I’m convinced God would be pleased with and simply love everyone else even if they don’t do the same things I do.

So rather than tell you what my family does for Halloween – dress up, Trick or Treat, Trunk or Treat, nothing – I’m just going to tell you that I love you, no matter what you decide do to: today, for Christmas, for Easter, with the Tooth Fairy, or anything else that people like to get all spiritually argumentative over.

Happy Day of Love, people. Because love is what it’s all about – this day and every other day.

Say it. Mean it. Follow through with it.

Today was one of the hardest days I’ve had as a mom. It’s always hard to follow through when you threaten your kids with a hard consequence. I always tell them that some horrid thing will happen to them if they don’t do what I’m asking. I always hope – stupidly believe – that the threat alone will be enough to spur them into action. Sometimes, when I’m lucky, it is enough – or they make enough of an effort – that I don’t need to follow all the way through; I can modify the consequence or even make it go away completely. Because I hate desperately when I have to make my kids sad.

So this was a relatively normal day – some parts hard and some parts good. Usually when Tom comes home, I’m able to let him help me deal with situations that came up during the day. I don’t have to be the “bad guy” alone. He’s great at sticking to his guns and keeping in mind that we are not here to be their friend; we’re here to  guide them and show them the way of Truth. We are here to teach them right from wrong and to help them learn it while they are young so that when they are old, they will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22:6) I have a lot of trouble thinking beyond their tears.

Today, Tom wasn’t here to make me follow through. So I thought hard every time I told them something would happen if they didn’t listen. I never told them I’d throw away all their toys if they didn’t clean up (because of course I would never throw them all away). I didn’t say I’d break their fingers or toss them out the window. All I said tonight was that they needed to get ready for bed really quickly so that we could tell stories before bed. The girls tend to dawdle a lot so I said that if they weren’t ready by a certain time, they couldn’t sleep in my room in their sleeping bags tonight. (It was a treat for them.) I thought to myself that I was prepared to make one of them sleep alone and I even said as much. But Sienna didn’t listen.

Oh my heart. She didn’t think I would do i, I guess. And I even gave her the chance to apologize and admit that she’d made a mistake – but she just smiled. That’s when I knew that this night was really gonna stink. Boy did it ever. I cried with her because I hated to make her sleep in her room all alone while Ethan and Kaylee got to be in our room. Kaylee cried too. In my heart, I hoped desperately that maybe she or Ethan would feel sad enough for her that they would decide to sleep with her. I wanted to tell them that if they loved their sister, that’s what they would do. And Sienna cried, “Mama, mama, why? I’m sorry, Mama.” Good grief.

I wanted so bad just to have mercy on her – I’ve done it so many times. I’ve told them how God has mercy on us and that I was helping them learn about His grace by not giving them what they deserved. But sometimes we have to suffer consequences to learn. And in my heart, I knew that this was one of those times. Sienna has this stubborn streak – she loves to test how much she can get away with because she knows her mama can’t stand it when Sienna is sad. She seems to actually calculate when I might not be willing to do what I’d said. I could see the manipulative look in her eyes tonight. So I had to follow through.

Several amazing things happened after that. First, Sienna became very brave and was a sweetheart – all she asked was that she could sleep with my stuffed bunny and into her bed she went. Then Kaylee and Ethan both went to my room and got comfy in their sleeping bags. I was disappointed and yet I couldn’t be shocked – or even angry, really. They are just little kids – naturally self-centered. Who would want to give up a fun treat like sleeping in their parents’ room to keep their sister from being lonely? But Kaylee kept repeating, “I’m not trying to be mean, Mommy.” So she knew there was a more noble choice.

I got it in my head that I would give whoever slept with Sienna (without being told or asked) would get a big prize tomorrow. And I hoped and hoped that one of the two would put themselves into Sienna’s place and realize how sad she must be alone. But they didn’t. So I told them what I’d planned and amazingly, they didn’t get upset. Then the next amazing thing happened: Kaylee said that even if she didn’t get a prize, she was going to sleep with Sienna. And up she got and into her own bed she went. Boy, was I ever proud. Ethan didn’t go – but like I said, he’s a kid.

I’m going to give Kaylee (and Sienna, for being so good and accepting her consequence) a prize tomorrow. Ethan’s going to be upset. I don’t know how I’ll handle it.

You guys are probably thinking I’m being overly dramatic – saying this has been such a hard day and all. But see, it really hit me today how they need to suffer in order to learn obedience. Discipline doesn’t come without pain. I remembered some awful things I suffered because I didn’t learn my lesson when I was young. And it made me realize how my soft heart, my inability to watch my kids hurt, would cause them so much more pain when they grew up and hadn’t learned discipline. Little things like not listening when your mommy says to brush your teeth – and then getting away with it – can lead to expecting to get away with all sorts of other things. And learning to put others first when you are young – well, hopefully that will lead to a habit of selflessness. It’s only one night, yes, but one night for me could lead to a habit of always letting them get away with everything, just because I don’t want to see them cry.

So yeah, it was a hard day all around. Tears from everyone. Frustration. But seeds were planted in their hearts and mine. Roots were watered and some dead branches were trimmed. And now I’m off to bed – with my buddy in his sleeping bag next to me and two little girls in their bunk beds down the hall.

Humble Pie – a Thanksgiving Recipe

Man, I have been flattened to a lump of humbleness quite often lately. Why is it so easy to complain and so hard to be thankful? Whining comes so much more naturally than being grateful for the amazing gifts I’ve received from God and it’s making me feel like a slimeball. Which inadvertently reminds me of a time I called someone’s mom a slimeball.

I was in first grade and me and John were best friends. Or so I thought. But then we got into a fight on the bus and he called my mom a bucket of snot. So I said his mom was a slimeball. Apparently, he told his mom that I had said this because she was a room-mom and I was one of her favorite students. But suddenly she was treating me differently; and I knew it was because of my insult. I was so angry with John – it was his fault that I’d called her a slimeball. Wasn’t it? I mean, I never would have dreamed of saying something like that if he hadn’t called my mom a bad name first.

Of course, in all my amazing 7 year old maturity, I knew I was wrong. It didn’t matter who had said what first; I shouldn’t have said something so mean about her no matter what. So I apologized. And it felt wonderful. Naturally, I mentioned how he’d called my mom a bucket of snot and she was very understanding of my anger. Probably, I shouldn’t have told her what he’d said – there’s no excuse for being mean. But that was a long time ago.

The feeling I have now is similar to my pre-apologetic 7 year old self; really lousy. Despite my awareness of God’s mercy and blessings, I continue to wallow in self-misery and what’s worse, I’m using the Internet to spread my depression. Facebook is this odd beast – I’ve mentioned this before. Years ago, I would have been forced to deal with my frustrations either over the phone, in person, or alone. Now, because of this crazy social beast, I can tell everyone I know (basically) my inmost thoughts on a daily basis. And my craving for acceptances forces me to want to post everything going on in my life. It’s like I’m crying out, “Hey, what I had for dinner last night was important because I’m important!”

Only instead of telling you I had hot dogs and s’mores for dinner last night, I’m telling you that, for the millionth time, I’m feeling hopeless. I guess it’s kind of like that strange way skinny girls ask for compliments by saying they are fat. I know the truth – I know that my life isn’t horrid and that healing takes time… But I want everyone to keep telling me so that I don’t have to do the work myself.

And now, I’m sitting here, feeling like a slob because I am not relying on God’s Spirit to give me the boost I need. And, I don’t need an emotional boost, I need a spiritual change of attitude. So, friends, I’m sorry. Maybe someday, I’ll get up the courage to leave Facebook forever – in the meantime, I’m going to try to post at least one positive thing for every negative thing I post. Because I don’t want to feel like a slimeball anymore. 🙂

Take time to stop and smell your toes-es.,

I’ve been open about my struggle to feel adequate compared to everyone else I have ever known. I’ve tried to avoid comparing myself to others because I know it gets me nowhere and besides, I’m comparing myself to others at their best rather than to their day-to-day reality. Not that I should compare myself to anyone at any time, but if I’m going to, I should at least try to be realistic about it.

But in this day age, there is so much pressure to be more than what I am. Or even more than what I’m capable of being. Don’t think I’m trying to limit myself and my potential – I’m not. What I mean is that it seems as though moms and women these days are expected to do so much.

There seems to be this unspoken understanding that your kids must be involved in at least one sport, music classes, church, chess club, play dates, cub scouts or girl scouts, school, karate, and anything else you can squeeze into the week. And somewhere in there, you are supposed to have time to play with them at the park, read to them, do crafts with them, and eat meals with them.

With all your free time (while your kids are in school, at practice, at piano lessons, or whatever), you are supposed to keep your house clean, organized, make meals using all organic and whole foods from scratch (or you’re poisoning your family) with recipes you’ve found on Pinterst, make a thousand crafts (from Pinterest), keep up with your friends on Facebook, send cards for every occasion (preferably homemade cards from the ideas you pinned on Pinterest),  exercise, go to PTA, help your kids do school and scout (and whatever other kind) fundraisers, read books, do devotions, blog, and volunteer somewhere in your other spare time.

Don’t forget regular dates with your husband, visits with parents, vacations, bills, homework – your kids’ homework and yours because, of course, you are going back to school, perhaps a part-time job so you can help pay the bills, gardening, planning and hosting holiday meals, birthdays, church functions, shopping for groceries and clothes and household items… and on and on and on.

And all of this must be accomplished with a smile.

I don’t know who is keeping track of all these things; what invisible hand will strike me down if I fail to accomplish all of it. All I know is that I (most of us, probably) fail miserably at pretty much all of it. My kids are in no sports – other than swimming lessons and a homeschool gym class I stumbled upon. This isn’t because I don’t think it’s important for my kids to learn physical activities and skills – it’s because I don’t know how on earth people fit sports for one child, let alone three, into an already bursting schedule. We don’t have our kids in music lessons yet, or scouts, or even any church classes outside of Sunday mornings. And I don’t scrapbook or decorate my house for fall (even though it’s my favorite season or make homemade costumes for my kids to wear for fall parties. I don’t wear clothes at the height of fashion, I never wear make up, and my hair takes me five minutes to do.

But guess what? I don’t care. I mean, I guess it bothers me when I think about how much my friends seem to accomplish compared to me; it makes me wonder what is wrong with me. A lot of people point out that I have this “condition” – Ehlers-Danlos – and that I can’t really do half as much as them anyway. And that’s true, but it’s just a convenient excuse for me to focus on what I think really matters. There are so many things going on in this post – so many points I want to make.

I want people to see how all this scheduling our lives away might lead to regret someday. There are no guarantees that any of us will wake up tomorrow morning. A family at our church recently lost their two year old son in a drowning accident. I keep thinking about what if it had been one of my kids? Would I be able to say that I had cherished every moment I’d had with them? Would I wish I’d posted more on Facebook and spent more time reading blogs? Would I be glad I’d spent that time snuggling with them even though I’d wanted to get a project finished? Would I be relieved that I’d caught the most recent episode of my favorite show rather than going on a walk with them?

My thoughts are so jumbled right now – in fact, I need to get away from the computer so I can play with my kids because they finished their schoolwork and are waiting for me. Part of me wants to go back and edit this – to make it sound perfect and look perfect – and I know I can just save a draft, but who’s to say they won’t need me the next time I want to sit down and work on it?

So I guess I’ll just say that for whatever reason, I have moments of clarity when I realize that even though I’m not a “soccer mom” or a “dance mom” or a “working mom” or whatever, I’m a good mom and a good wife because I don’t let other people’s expectations (or my interpretation of their expectations) get in the way of what really matters. Someday, I’ll be able to look back at this time of my life and be satisfied that my family was more important to me than the number of activities they could have been involved in. I suppose that the Ehlers-Danlos has forced me to slow down, but I don’t regret it one bit.

They’ll never notice

My OCD causes me to freak out about all sorts of things long before I need to. My kids’ birthdays are two months away, but I’ve been sort of obsessing about what to get them. There are several things that factor into my decisions. For example, they have enough toys and every year I make them get rid of somethings so that they don’t have quite so much. This year, I feel like making them get rid of everything. Of course, that is silly (right??) but honestly, I just want them to be able to keep their stuff organized. Now, I know you’re laughing and possibly just spit coffee all over your computer and I apologize for that. But they will be 5 and 7 years old in a few months; couldn’t they at least manage to get all their toys into the one bin they have for them?

Besides figuring out what to give away, I also naturally worry about what to get them. Every parent wants to see their kids’ faces light up and listen to them squeal with delight when they see what’s inside that wrapping paper. I’ve always tried so hard to get just the right gift for them; I listen throughout the year to hear what they’ve been asking for more than just once or twice. I want whatever we get them to be the best thing they ever get; the thing they will never ever get rid of.

Another thing I worry about is the money. I don’t worry because we don’t have enough money, but because I don’t want to spend money excessively on toys. It sends the wrong message to the kids, not to mention the overflowing rooms of toys they already have or the fact that kids in other countries have sticks and rocks for toys. We set a very tight budget for birthdays and Christmas and I really believe it helps the kids appreciate what they get a little more. Besides, with grandparents and aunts and uncles, they get more than necessary anyway!

Lastly, (I think) I worry about wanting to surprise them. I am horrid at keeping surprises. As much as I love trying to find the perfect gift, I’m terrible at keeping it a secret once I have found it. I should probably wait until just before a birthday or Christmas to shop so that I won’t have to keep it long. I’m constantly so giddy about finding this spectacularly appropriate gift that I mention it every time I think about it. I’m not sure Tom has ever not known what gift I got for him. The kids are not as savvy as him yet, but they will be soon.

So this year, all my worries have been combining and growing because I’ve had to sit on the couch too much – resting and getting better. Yesterday, I narrowed down what my kiddos want to 5-6 of their most important desires. Kaylee has two things she’s asked for consistently for over a year: a guitar and a scooter. She’s getting one for her birthday and the other for Christmas. Ethan is a bit harder, but we’ve been planning to give him our old digital camera for a while, and he wants a science kit and slingshot. Oh, and a snorkel. He said, “Mama, if I see a snorkel in my presents, I’ll be like ‘Yay!!'” It’s the simple things.

Sienna’s was a bit more complicated. Sort of. Two years ago, I paid $1 at a garage sale to buy her a nearly destroyed Barbie Pegasus with removable wings. She was two years old and that thing was shedding mane and tail hair everywhere. The wings never stayed on and were torn. Someone had drawn on it with permanent marker. But she loved it. I had no idea how much she cherished it until the day I had Tom throw it out when the kids and I were at the beach without him. I was sure she was not going to remember the thing – or care much if she did. Usually, if something “disappeared,” she (and the other two) either didn’t notice or just accepted that it somehow got lost and never mentioned it again. You can see where this is going.

We came home from our trip, and hours later Sienna asked about the pony. I tried to play dumb (as usual) and she was insistent that it couldn’t be gone. Of course, it was long gone.  (Probably in a dump somewhere like the toys in Toy Story 3, crying and about to be incinerated.) Her reaction was normal, but what was not normal was that she continued to bring it up week after week after week until Tom and I finally said that it was falling apart and we just couldn’t keep it. Fast forward to now, two years later, and she still laments about it.

I really wasn’t planning to buy the exact same one – I didn’t think I would ever find it and was content with replacing it with a similar new horse. But naturally, they don’t make anything like them at all anymore. They make all sorts of pretty ponies and My Little Pony has a pegasus that is a little bigger than the normal “ponies” and Barbie makes a new style that was acceptable. I figured I’d just have to make do with something like that. Yet in my search, I stumbled upon an eBay listing for that same exact Pegasus. For less than the new ones. I “made an offer” for $5 less than what it was listed for and minutes later my offer was accepted. (I can’t tell you how serendipitous the fact that it wasn’t an auction but rather a “Buy it Now” because I stress a lot about things like that – what if I don’t win the auction? What do I do then??)

So now, I have the trouble of keeping it a secret (not just Sienna’s pony, but also the gifts for the other two), and hoping that they will absolutely love what I got them. I figure that the fact I’m doing it so early will mean that they will forget about all the things I’ve been asking them about to figure out what they want. Usually with time, they forget about things like this. Of course, that’s what I thought about Sienna. Maybe I should start shopping for next year now…

It’s not polite to stare

I went to church today for the first time in a month. (Can you believe that tomorrow is one month since my surgery? Crazy!) I didn’t want to; I’ve actually not been feeling great the past couple of days. I’ve been taking off my collar for short periods (because I called and clarified with Dr. Durrani’s office and I only had to have it on full-time for four weeks) and not wearing it at all at night and also going a lot of places. It’s probably too much at once. I’m just putting a lot of stress on my neck and it is rebelling, I guess.

But to be honest, part of the reason I didn’t want to go was also because I knew I would feel incredibly uncomfortable. I haven’t enjoyed most of my time out because I can’t help but notice all the people looking at me. And, though it’s silly, I fear that they will think I’m faking an injury so that I can sue someone who crashed into my car. Or something like that. I really hate being the center of attention when I didn’t choose to be.

And most people don’t say anything to me, but some people have. One person asked me “What happened to you?” in the most rude and obnoxious voice. It was like she was confirming my fears – I was certain she was thinking, “Oh, she has to be faking it. Who wears a collar like that unless they are pretending to have severe whiplash?”

Or they have tried to relate. “Oh, my aunt had neck surgery a while ago.” Their faces tell me they want more details, but I can’t give them any without going into a long story. Which I most certainly don’t feel like doing.

Anyway, I went to church despite my discomfort physically and emotionally. And I’m sure I imagined it, but it felt like everyone was looking at me.  We go to a large church, so even though I know a lot of people, there aren’t a lot of people there who knew I had surgery. I wanted to hide. I wanted to hold up a sign that said I’d had surgery. I wanted to cry.

Ok, so I have been talking about pity parties and being thankful and all that, so it naturally follows that I felt extremely guilty for feeling so self-conscious. I mean, I get to stop wearing my collar eventually. And my scar is all red and ugly now, but won’t be noticeable in the future. But there are people who have really obvious disabilities that are permanent and impossible to hide. Of course, I’m not saying that I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable with all the stares. I think anyone would cringe at that kind of attention. But this is another perfect example of a situation where I can choose to dwell in my misery or choose to find things to be thankful for. (I’m at 80 now on my list. I need to remember to do it throughout the day!)

I am hoping that next week, I’ll just wear the collar in the car to church and then I’ll have to decide whether to cover the scar since it’s still so irritated – all the skin around it is red because it’s irritated from itching and rubbing. I’m trying not to rub and itch, but my skin hasn’t calmed down yet. Anyway, then people will stare at the back of my head and I won’t have to see them staring.

You probably know that I started this blog because I wanted to learn to accept myself – every part of me – and I thought I would share the journey with anyone who might decide to read along. I gotta say, this whole collar thing – people staring and unwanted attention being pulled my way –  it isn’t easy on my self-esteem. Not to mention all this lying around eating delicious food brought to me by good friends has almost certainly added pounds to my waist. It’s rather difficult to deal with knowing that my jeans will be quite snug when I finally try to pull them on this fall. But that’s for another post.

This one was just to let you know that it really stinks to be stared at.

Homeschoolers are Perfect

This is for my homeschooling and non-homeschooling friends alike. Please know that none of this is true at all. Except the part about my superior intelligence. That is true.

 

As I was listening to my five-year-old son recite the dictionary today (he’s on the M’s now), I realized how much smarter he is than everyone else’s kids. And I know why: It’s because I homeschool him. I decided that most people are horribly uneducated about homeschooling so I am going to explain exactly why there is no other alternative than to be your child’s own teacher.

I had a 5.0 GPA in high school and I’m still really amazingly intelligent. Most people aren’t as smart as I am, but everyone has the ability to teach their children what they need to succeed in life. Critics of homeschooling say that parents are not always as motivated as they need to be in order to actually teach their children. Of course, they are missing the fact that even if the parents aren’t motivated, children are naturally curious about everything. They will ask to learn whatever they need to know about when they need to know it. You might think I’m forcing my son to memorize the dictionary. On the contrary, he saw Webster’s masterpiece on the bookshelf and begged me to teach him every word. It was all I could do to keep him from starting with our medical dictionary.

I’m so convinced you never actually have to make your kids learn that I will guarantee every parent this: By the time your kids are seven years old, they’ll be whining to learn how to multiply, divide, and calculate pi to 15 digits. They’ll roll around on the floors until you show them what the layers of the earth and atmosphere are. Not only that, but they will also crave writing assignments about American and world history (because of course, they will have asked you to teach them to read and write when they were four).

For those who think homeschooling parents have it rough, well, there are actually several advantages for parents who actually care about their child’s education. First, it’s like having miniature maids or servants at your beck and call all day. When they aren’t studying quietly at the kitchen table, they can be dusting, sweeping, mopping, scrubbing toilets, and changing the oil in your car. When they are old enough – say, seven – you can let them make dinner for the family. You’d be amazed at how much you can trust a nine-year-old with when they are taught at home. Mine, in fact, handles our household budget.

Perhaps the biggest criticism of homeschooling is the “lack of socialization.” Tell me, do you really want your kids to learn how to socialize from a bunch of other people’s kids? You can’t control who they will become friends with if they are in public school – what happens if, heaven forbid, they make friends with someone whose parents who let their kids watch shows other than what’s on PBS? You don’t want your kids hanging around with riff-raff like that, do you? Better that you don’t let your children meet anyone their own age until they are in college. That way, when you send them off, you can be sure they are well-grounded. If you insist on introducing your kids to other children, there are lots of homeschooling groups you can meet with these days. A bunch of perfect kids just like yours.

Homeschooling offers so many benefits to families that I can’t possibly mention all of them. It’s been proven that homeschooled children are 75% quieter than kids who go to public school. Parents who educate their own children live 90% longer. Even the very homes in which children are taught reap rewards; 85% of them are vacuumed twice a week. I’d love to share more, but I must leave you now, though; my three-year-old is asking me to teach him about parametric equations and my five year old, who is dressing a turkey for dinner, is having trouble lifting the bird into the oven.

I know a secret

I have been feeling so down lately. I am depressed about all sorts of things: I hate my collar, I hate trying to sleep because I can never get comfortable, I hate taking pills, I hate dealing with insurance, I hate that I feel embarrassed to go out in my collar, I hate that EDS is forever… I could probably easily name a thousand things I’m down about.

And that’s the problem.

A while back, I posted about how my counselor talked with me about our brains and how they work. The more we think about something, the easier it is for our brains to go back to that subject when we aren’t trying to think about anything. It’s like a river of thoughts – the more our thoughts flow in one direction, the wider the river gets and the less we think about something, the smaller the river gets, until it eventually dries up.

Well, I can take that idea further; into really painful territory.

Whatever consumes our mind is what we worship.

By that logic, I worship negativity. See, I sit here on my couch stewing about how miserable I am and how unfair life is and how I’m just so discouraged. And I bet a lot of people would tell me, “Well, things are rough for you right now, you need to take time for yourself. It’s ok to be discouraged.” I’m not saying it’s not ok to be discouraged, but really, it’s not any fun. Not really. Pity parties feel kinda good at first, but when you realize it’s a party of one… well… I don’t want to live like this. Not to mention that I say I believe God lives in me – aren’t I supposed to be different from the rest of the world who live without the hope of eternity?

I want to be filled with joy. I want people to see me and to want to be like me because I’m different; because I have joy in the midst of adversity. I want to learn the “the secret of being content in every circumstance.” (Philippians 4:11)

Well, judging by the fact that I just mentioned Philippians 4:11, I ought to know the secret already. Just a few verses earlier, in verse 8, Paul says to think about things that are good, true, honorable, pure, and lovely. In verse 4, he says to rejoice in the Lord always.

I told you my friend gave me a book called 1,000 Gifts. I almost felt like I didn’t want to keep reading it after starting because I didn’t much like the style of writing – it’s a bit too stream-of-consciousness for me. But I’m glad I did go on because it’s a really true-life example of living out “the secret” – not Oprah’s secret, but God’s secret to real joy in life. In the book, the author was challenged to write down 1,000 things God had given her. Not just big things, but things like baby toes and warm patches of sun in her kitchen, or shredded cheese and pizza dough. She said it felt silly and childish to be thinking of such mundane things to be thankful for – but isn’t that what we are supposed to be after? A child-like faith that sees simple truths that for no logical reason overwhelm the negative things that surround us?

When I told my kids that their grandpa, my father-in-law, had died, they had been playing. They stopped because I told them to come over and I broke the sad news to them. They all paused and were quiet and I asked if they were ok, and Ethan said, “Mama, can I go back to my game now?” It felt wrong to me – weren’t they supposed to start being sad and depressed and cry and sob instead of finishing their puzzles or coloring or whatever else they were busy with? Well, sure – mourning is natural, the Bible says there’s a time to mourn – but children seem to know something of this “secret” that gets “unlearned” as they grow. They know how not to be worried about things over which they have no control.

I know, I know – a big reason kids can do that is ignorance. They don’t pay bills, they don’t have to (usually) worry about their health or weight or what they are going to wear. That’s adult stuff. But Jesus told us we don’t have to worry about those things either! In Matthew 5 he said that we shouldn’t worry about anything because we can’t add even a single hour to our lives by worrying. In fact, we’re probably sucking away hours from our lives! In the same way, focusing on the things that make us angry or upset isn’t going to change those things. We waste so much time focused on negative things that we forget how many good things – even if they are small – God has given us.

In the book 1,000 Gifts, the author says that the practice of focusing on each little thing we are thankful for is like pounding in pegs of gratefulness that force out the negative pegs of thought. And we need to keep doing this even in the good times – it’s practice so that when the hard times come, we won’t have to struggle to do it.

Will God get mad if we get depressed? No! It’s not what he wants for us – he wants us to be joy-filled even in the worst of times. But Jesus didn’t give up on Peter when they were walking on water and Peter lost his focus on Jesus because he “saw the wind and the waves” and started sinking. Jesus didn’t say, “Oh Peter, now I have to let you drown because you were supposed to keep your eyes on me!” No, he grabbed Peter’s hand and helped him back to the safety of the boat! I am sure if Peter had not lost his focus and had managed to stay on the water’s surface despite the storm, Jesus would have been so proud. Yet, even though Peter didn’t make it, Jesus didn’t let him drown – he scolded him a bit, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” But it was still Peter who became the first evangelist and preached to the 3,000 people on the day of Pentecost – so obviously God didn’t hold that doubt against him.

So what about you? Can you think of a thousand things you are depressed about? What about a thousand things you are thankful for? Start a list today – add a few things at a time, especially when you are down. Don’t try to think of big “important” things; if you’re thankful for the breeze today, write that down. Or if you are thankful for a good hair day, write that. Thank God for pencils and erasers and your eyesight and hearing. Thank God you have chocolate or for Starbucks or for your favorite pair of pajamas. It gets easier once you start, I promise. And I also promise that once you start, you’ll realize that it really is the “secret” of being content. And that’s something else to be thankful for.

A long-awaited update! (I might be crazy!)

My humble apologies yet again for my lack of posts recently. I’ve been a bit down – just mostly having a pity party. A solution has come in the way of a wonderful book a friend sent to my Nook (technology is amazing, all she needed was my e-mail and she bought me a Nook book and it was on my Nook minutes later). I will tell you all about it in my next post.

So this week, we went to see Dr. Durrani for my (what was supposed to be two week but I changed to three week) post-op follow-up. The drive down, though, was just awful. Poor Tom hurt his back earlier in the week while he and our neighbor were cutting down pine trees the size of the Empire State Building and driving with a bad back is terrible. Plus, there was so much construction and the drive to Cincy is a rather bumpy-ish one anyway, so when we got to the hotel, I was nearly in tears from the pain and Tom was beyond miserable, too. Thankfully, we both felt somewhat better in the morning.

I really felt silly travelling four hours to see Dr. Durrani when he was basically going to check the incision and ask how I was. But I made the most of it. First, the incision itches like a million monkeys. (I don’t know what that means.) See, he had to shave a strip of my hair and the incision goes up into my hair because the C1/C2 vertebra are so high. So about an inch (maybe less; unlike most moms, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head) of it is covered with spiky little hairs that are growing out – into the incision. So you know, the skin is folded together when they stitch it – all that hair is growing into my skin and oh, golly! I just want to itch my head off! So that part is still a little oozy (did I warn you not to eat while reading this?) and I still have to keep it covered. I’ve just been using some non-stick gauze pads and a bit of medical tape to hold it on so that my skin can finally breathe. (Up until this week, I’ve been using Tegaderm which costs an arm and a leg.)

I have to wear the collar 23 hours a day for two more weeks (though I think that Dr. Durrani was confused because it was supposed to be my two-week check up and he kept changing all his numbers, still, to be on the safe side, I’ll keep wearing it). After that, I can take it off at night – which is terrifying and thrilling all at once – and for a total of four hours a day, half an hour at a time. The next week, I can take it off for up to eight hours total during the day and the following week a little more. I’m thinking I’ll have a collar-burning ceremony once I’m done with it. One of the best things about all this is no physical therapy. I have always loathed physical therapy for some reason, even though I truly loved my last PT. But Dr. Durrani said that for EDS patients, he finds that physical therapy can actually make them worse, especially after a C1/C2 fusion. He said if I have trouble getting used to turning my neck once I’m allowed, that I can go, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. Oh, and I’m allowed to drive now with it on, as long as it’s for short distances. That will help for our homeschool group and a gym class I signed Ethan up for – both are only a few miles away and both have options where I can make mostly right turns. 🙂

Then we talked about my three month check-up. I will need an x-ray to make sure things are fusing properly. That’s when I asked about when I could get my C5/C6 fused. I’m not a masochist, I promise. I never normally would want two surgeries in a year, but financially it makes sense because with this fusion, I’ve met my personal out-of-pocket expenses which means that from here on out, all I have to pay are co-pays and/or anything above what the insurance is allowed to pay for any given procedure. So as long as I can get the C5/6 covered in-network, I shouldn’t have much to pay for it at all.

Dr. Durrani had no problem with that and we set up the surgery for December 14 (I think). Apparently, that type of fusion is so much easier that it’s done as an outpatient surgery! They said I could literally go home that same day if I wanted – which I’m thinking might be the best idea since I’ll still be all drugged up and sleeping should be very easy! I won’t need a collar (the nurse said they give you a soft collar for comfort, but it’s not required) and that most people are back to work in a week or two. I’m honestly looking forward to it because as my C1/C2 fusion heals, my C5/C6 area is getting more sore and my left arm keeps going numb or pain shoots down it (I’m pretty sure that the collar kind of puts stress on that area at least a little?) and now that the headaches are gone (or at least going to be greatly improved) I just want my neck to be better! I’m giddy at the thought of being able to travel and hike and shop without ending up in so much pain. I’m praying that this surgery will definitely help that get better – realistically, I won’t know if it works for a very long time because the nerves have been squished and pinched for so long that it will take a long time for them to start working right again, if they do. I should see some improvement, though. So, my three month check up will be my pre-op appointment for my next surgery. Kinda crazy, but I’m truly happy to be getting it over with.

We also asked about whether or not it would make a difference if we had local spine surgeon do the next fusion – because of the EDS – and he said that was up to us and how comfortable we felt with it, but that with the C1/C2 fusion, it might be tricky to find an anesthesiologist who was comfortable with intubating me – since you can’t bend my neck back as far. So we felt as though it’s best to go with Dr. Durrani for the surgery since he’s so comfortable with EDS and C1/C2 fusion and so are the people who work with him.

The drive home was not nearly so bad for me. I put the seat back almost as far as it would go and managed to sleep quite a bit. I’m still feeling frustrated with all I can’t do right now – especially when Tom’s not feeling well and I can’t even do little things like laundry to help right now. Prayers for continued relief from my headaches and that the next surgery will bring full relief to my neck would be so appreciated! Stay tuned for some deep thoughts in upcoming blog posts!