B: Thomas! Don’t point that laser at your eye!
J: What happens if he points it at his eye?
B: He’ll go blind.
J: Uh, why are we letting him play with the laser?
B: Because he’s a boy. He needs to be trusted with dangerous things.
2003 was our first Fourth of July as parents. It was also Bryan’s first paid holiday in nearly his entire working life, having lived the high life of a freelancer until I got knocked up with Ruthie. It was the first time I’d ever seen him relax – like, REALLY relax – because he wasn’t thinking about all the money he wasn’t earning that day by not working, or all the all the future business he wasn’t funneling into the pipeline.
Five years later Bryan lost weight, I’ve gained weight, and I have a new growth attached to my hip who goes by the name, Thomas. Also? Ruthie still makes this face when she’s pissed at me. And at bedtime. And when I cut her off at three bowls of cereal.
Deeply rooted anger and control issues have been surfacing lately. On the one hand it’s terrifying and embarrassing to see my ugly heart exposed like this – even if only Bryan and the kids see it – but on the other hand it’s liberating to bring into the light all the hidden rage I’ve been suppressing. On top of the anger, I feel a tremendous amount of shame for harboring such anger. It takes a lot of energy to keep all that tension stuffed inside, and when it leaks from my inner pipes the pressure of my explosion is like the exhaust from a rocket blast.
Last night and the night before, I dreamed a thief stole all the flowers and bushes from my yard, leaving only the supporting stakes and empty containers. Even the front gate was gone, and the beautiful wisteria that hovers like a protective umbrella over the entrance. When I woke up I didn’t think much about it, other than it was a strange dream to have. But as I snuggled with Ruthie in the front room, noticing how nicely all the foliage shields our open windows from the street, it suddenly hit me that my dream might mean something.
I recalled again the image of the bare dirt at the front of the house, with nothing but dead bamboo stakes sticking out of the ground; of the ugly chain link fence, now exposed in the absence of my clematis and honeysuckle vines. I remember in my dream, how I took in a quick breath when I saw the barren arbor over the entrance to my yard, and the gaping hole in the fence where the gate used to be.
My house was completely vulnerable and exposed to the street, and there was nothing to see but dirt and rocks and dead sticks.
This has weighed heavy on me this morning. I know from scripture the love of Jesus does not leave us feeling barren and exposed. I know from scripture that he turns our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. I know from scripture that he does not forsake us.
The only conclusion I can make of this dream, then, is of my own fear and shame at the hidden darkness of my heart being exposed. I’ve wrestled with God for years over control of my life, and I have hid the anger and self-loathing as best I could.
Yesterday I discovered a plastic tub filled with camping gear I had lost – camping gear that was packed up in the rain last summer. When I opened the lid I was overwhelmed by the smell of mildew, and as I cleaned it out I threw away handfuls of decomposed, unidentifiable, mushy matter.
When I am truly honest, this is what I think of myself, this is how I think God sees me – dirt, rock, dead sticks, and vile, decomposed, flesh.
I’m reading Cry of the Soul, by Dan Allendar, and in it he talks about people having one of two responses in relationships: fight, or flight. I am definitely a fighter. When I feel personally attacked by another person (real or perceived), I lash out at them; when I feel abandoned by friends or family, I rage with jealousy over their other relationships; and when I feel loved by someone, particularly by God, I respond with contempt. I can finally admit I am enraged with the idea that God would love me.
Allender describes this kind of contempt:
Contempt is our means of fighting against the arousal of hope when someone moves toward us, offering kindness and tenderness….Contempt vocalizes the core question, Does God love me, or will He turn away in disgust?
Despite the dreariness of what I write, I actually feel as if my soul is being let out of a cage. And when I cry now, my sobs are for the gratefulness I feel that Jesus really does love me and continues to pursue me, even though I feel vile and barren.
I think a new chapter of my life is beginning, one in which Jesus opens all the forgotten plastic tubs in my heart and doesn’t turn away in disgust. Knowing how fiercely I resist exposure, these will not be fun times. But I am intrigued by the warm excitement I feel at the tender advances of my savior, which can only be described as similar to the warm excitement I felt when Bryan pursued me for marriage.
It is exciting and terrifying, all at the same time.
Ironically, it is raining now, which will only make my garden grow more lush and more colorful. There will be no thief to rob me of this joy. There will be none who can take what has been planted.
Remember the snack drawer idea I wrote about? It was a total bust. The kids would eat half of what was in their drawer, then whine and moan and complain that they didn’t want what was left, that they wanted something else.
When I realized the snack drawer was causing more drama than it was worth, I gave up on it. But still, with the “I’m hungry” all the time!
Recently I started having lunch every week with a friend, and we switch off watching each other’s kids for a few hours after. She often serves the kids a buffet style meal – a big platter with lots of veggies, hummus, fruit, and quesadilla triangles or PB&J squares. My kid love it, and I love it, so I adapted it to our snack routine.
Mid morning I may put out some fruit, cheese, and hard boiled eggs:
In the afternoon I put out mostly veggies, with a little hummus to dip into:
When friends come over I put out favorites, like grapes, carrots, and pretzels:
This has been a peaceful solution to the snack problem. If they don’t eat it all, I stick the plate in the refrigerator until they’re hungry again. And because these are healthy foods, they can eat as much as they want, and I don’t have to worry about them spoiling their appetite for the next meal.
Also? If they’ve had an entire snack of veggies, it makes me less pushy about eating a veggie at dinner. And THAT works for me.
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Visit Rocks in my Dryer for other Works for Me Wednesday posts.
This is my fifth summer living in this house, and every year I fought with this beautiful magenta clematis vine with blooms as big as my hands. I wanted to be in control, and for my world to be compartmentalized and put in order, with trees over here and vines over there. At least once a week every summer, I pulled the clematis out of the weeping cherry tree and retrained it into the fence, only to have new vines reaching up into the welcoming arms of the tree.
This summer I gave up. The spring weather was bad, I was fussing more over my vegetable garden, and I just plain gave up fighting it. And wouldn’t you know it, but almost every single person that’s come over has stopped, gasped, and exclaimed how beautiful that vine is, growing into the tree the way it is!
I don’t have a sense of humor about a lot of things pertaining to my control issues, but I had to laugh at that one.
Bryan cooked for me all weekend, which is pretty much like porn for women, in my book. Beginning with dinner on Friday night, the pornography just didn’t stop. I’d had a really crappy day with the kids, and since he was able to come home early from work he offered to make dinner. So I sat on the back deck with my book and a Jitterbug while he whipped something up for us. The kids were banished from my sight to save their own existence.
On Saturday morning he made us all omelettes, and then (AND THEN!) he accomplished several fix-it tasks around the house, including disassembling our front screen door and completely hosing it down. When he hung it back up, it was so clean I nearly walked right through it.
For dinner that night he made Ginger Lime Beef Lettuce Wraps, and they were phenomenal.
While we both agreed this would have been a little more sophisticated using thinly sliced steak instead of ground beef, he used what we had on hand to create a fantastic and light dish, using the juice from fresh limes, freshly grated ginger, frozen green beans, and saute’d mushrooms.
Also? We ran out of jam by Sunday, and if you are in possession of a preschooler you understand how frightening it can be to face the lunch hour with one third of your PB&J combo missing. My solution, because I am a grouchy old lady most of the time, was to make them JUST a peanut butter sandwich, or even (gasp!) try to make them something else for lunch.
Bryan, however, whips out a few strawberries…
adds a little sugar…
employs the chopper…
and chops them up…
into freshly made jam….
The kids were ecstatic, and now expect me to make fresh jam every day. But alas, I am still just a grouchy old lady. Not very much fun, like their porn star dad.
I meant to post this mix weeks ago, but I’ve been having so much fun reading and playing outside that I just couldn’t be bothered. My apologies, but I hope you’ll understand.
As before, click here to listen (remember to open a new browser or tab), then come back to read all about it. The mix will be available to listen to until I post a new one. But if you like it, leave a comment before Wednesday at noon and I’ll send a CD to one person drawn randomly from the comments.
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Barry Louis Polisar – All I Want Is You
This is my favorite song off the Juno soundtrack, and every time I play it loud for us to dance to, Thomas runs downstairs to get his guitar. He plays it while doing a little skip-to-my-lou around the living room.
Spoon – Don’t You Evah
I heard a remix version of this, but decided I liked the original better. It sounds vaguely familiar to me, and I wonder if it’s one of those songs that used to get way overplayed?
Cloud Cult – Take Your Medicine
I will make you a fan of Cloud Cult if it’s the last thing I do. This song came on while I was running awhile ago, so I was in perfect focus mode to hear the lyrics clearly. It’s a song of redemption, about overcoming things that previously controlled, about bringing the dark, hidden things into the light. I kept hitting the repeat button that day, and listened to it for my entire run. You can read the lyrics here.
Mike Doughty – 27 Jennifers
I love this song for obvious reasons. I’m sure there were no websites available in 1971 to tell my mother that Jennifer was the most popular name on the planet. But I’ve never disliked my name, so at least I have that going for me. My maiden name is Anderson, and when I was in high school there was another Jennifer Anderson in my graduating class that always skipped school and was caught smoking outside Door 9. I was always getting sent to the principal’s office, and when I walked in she would sigh and wave me out, then pick up her phone to find the other Jennifer Anderson.
Mars Hill – What Wondrous Love is This
My church released a new studio CD over the winter – a collection of hymns – and this is one of my favorites. I like to play it loud because of the base and the driving rhythm to it. Also? Thomas head bangs to it and sings along at the “sinking down, sinking down” part. Awesome!
Tift Merritt – Broken
This song was featured on a recent Paste Magazine music sampler, and now you know I’m a closet country music lover. Though I should clarify I’m a country slash rock music lover – not the old school country. Also? It’s been reported that I attended an Alabama concert at the Tacoma Dome in the early 90’s, but I don’t remember much from the night apart from Somebody’s permed hair and red cowboy boots. Anyhow, I’m drawn to these lyrics: “Now you’re broken, and you don’t understand what is broken falls into place once again…I think I will break, but I mend.” (more lyrics here).
Patti Griffin – Carry Me
I put this on here only because it came up in my running mix a few weeks ago and made me run faster just when I was ready to ease up. If you think Patti Griffin is too mellow and folksy for you, check out her Flaming Red album. It rocks so hard I play it long and loud, and I think Bryan almost suggested I just go ahead and french kiss her.
Jordin Sparks & Chris Brown – No Air
If my appreciation of country music threw you for a loop, wait until you hear this song – you will totally lose sleep trying to figure me out. My friend heard this song come up on the mix at a our House of BBQ a couple weeks ago, and he very tactfully expressed his surprise that I liked this song. But when I launched into my very dramatic hairbrush lip sync I think he completely understood the draw. Jordin Sparks was last year’s American Idol winner, and when she sang this duet on the most recent season I was all, Who is Chris Brown? I would encourage you to not ask this question in a room full of teenage girls.
Snow Patrol – Shut Your Eyes
Bryan has always talked about his love for Snow Patrol, but I had never heard them. Then one day this song came on the radio and I was all, I love this song, do you know who it is? Proving once again that I don’t listen to a thing my husband says unless confirmed by at least one outside source.
Frou Frou – Let Go
I wrote about my love for this song about a year and a half ago in this post, but as this mix was coming together, I realized I wanted it to be placed among my favorites.
Nikka Costa – So Have I For You
I first heard her on KCRW.com, and loved her funk and soul. My favorite Aretha Franklin song is Rock Steady, and many of Costa’s song take on that kind of funky vibe. This, however, is one of her slower songs, but I chose it for the lyric, “you can choose the rain, but I choose the sun…” Sometimes it’s just one line in one song that make me rethink the mood I’m choosing to be in at the moment, even if the rest of the song has nothing to do with you (obviously a horrible sentence, written much too late at night).
Cloud Cult – Thanks
Again with The Meaning of 8, right? JUST GO BUY THE ALBUM, for cryin’ out loud. This song builds itself to a full-on worship song that makes me sprint with my eyes closed (don’t ask how I do this, I’m not quite sure). You just can’t be in a pissy mood after listening to it. Here’s the bulk of it:
And I give thanks to my youthful days
Of grass-stained knees and trick-or-treat face
I pray I’ll find as innocent a place
When I am 88
And I give thanks to my present day
It just got here so please don’t go away
I finally see it’s what I choose to make
I choose to make it into gold
These are the events of yesterday…
Around 9:30am I found Thomas on the front porch destroying the styrofoam lining of the delivery box from our milk man.
I was so fed up with the day I ushered the kids up to their rooms for nap time a whole hour early, JUST BECAUSE I NEEDED A BREAK FROM THE DRAMA. Ruthie walking through the sprayed door thirty seconds afer I told her not to was the last straw for me, though she loaded many straws on me after that. My friend chuckled when I told her this, and she said, “Ruthie would cut her own nose off to spite her face!”
It made me laugh, which I needed desperately in that moment.
I have to admit, I was pretty pissy as the events dragged on. I was all, seriously? SERIOUSLY! It was beautiful, sunny, and in the 80’s – perfect circumstances for being happy and having fun, but I spent the entire day cleaning up one disaster after another, disciplining one kid after another.
Because both kids were continually obstinate throughout the day and without a repentant heart, Bryan and I decided to cancel our family plans that night – we were going to meet him downtown after work and play in the fountain at Seattle Center. It was disappointing, particularly when Ruthie scowled and said, “Fine. I didn’t want to go anyway.” I know that wasn’t true, but I wanted her to be devastated, not hardened. I wanted her to understand the natural consequences of her actions, but she played like it didn’t matter.
My first instinct when Ruthie gets this stubborn is to make her life as miserable as possible until she cries UNCLE and repents. In my imagination we play a game of chicken to see who lasts longer – me or her. Forcing behavior seems to be what I am most comfortable with, though I know intellectually it’s the worst way to parent.
I had a revelation awhile ago. I realized that Ruthie is a person, not merely an object I own or control. She is a person with a conscience who can feel the conviction of the Holy Spirit. Or not. I realized there are more consequences to our actions than just the circumstantial ones, that she is growing up not only in body, but also in faith. I realized that I won’t always be able to make her feel sorry, that sometimes she will rebel against repentance and have a hard heart, and that there’s not really anything I can do about it in the moment.
I realized even now, when she is five and disobeying her mom without remorse, I can shepherd her through the situation by giving her all the information she needs, but ultimately conviction comes from the Holy Spirit and repentance is up to her. This revelation – the epiphany, if you will – leaves me feeling as if a giant rock is sitting on my chest because I can’t control the outcome.
As parents we talk about slowly letting go of our kids as they wean from the breast, learn to walk, go to kindergarten, graduate high school. But I’d never thought about slowly letting go of our kids as they take more responsibility for their actions and their conscience. Nobody told me how painful it is to watch your child fall into the same sin over and over and over again, experiencing consequence after consequence.
Nobody told me I wouldn’t always be able to protect my kids from themselves.
Washington State ban on cell phone use while driving
Beginning July 1st, a new law goes into affect prohibiting the use of hands to operated a cell phone while driving. As far as I know, using a hands-free headset is still allowed. I talk on my phone while driving all the time. I hate making phone calls, and for some reason it seems to be less painful if I’m also using my time to get where I’m supposed to be. Because after all, I’m just sitting there, right? I mean, during what other point of the day am I JUST SITTING DOWN?
Also? My kids are strapped into car seats and unable to climb on top of the refrigerator when I’m not looking.
Original Works – turning your artwork into professionally made products
Ruthie’s preschool used this program as a fundraiser last year, but you can also place individual orders. Prices are as low as $5.50 for a magnet, or you can spend more to get art aprons, night lights, mugs, and more. I have several projects I plan to send in this year to make presents for grandparents.
And for all you crafty types out there? You can turn your child’s art into a quilt block. If I didn’t have so many hobbies going already, I would TOTALLY make a quilt out of my kids’ art.
I finished two fiction books this month, which seems like a grand accomplishment considering all that divides my time. Atonement, by Ian McEwan, was chosen by a friend for our book club. It has three distinct sections, plus an epilogue, and most reviewers on Amazon had pretty strong feelings about which section they preferred.
Even though the story seemed pretty typical – would be lovers torn apart by circumstances out of their control – McEwan’s writing was smooth and poetic and beautiful enough to keep me attached to the story, particularly in the first section. His descriptions of movements, interactions, and setting were stunning. While on the airplane heading to our white water rafting trip, I read a certain passage that took place in the dark corners of a home library, and let’s just say I needed a cold glass of water to bring down the heat after that one.
I wasn’t a big fan of how the ending was written, but I understood the usefulness of it. I would have just preferred something more challenging for the writer. It seemed too easy. But then again, I’m a big critic of story endings because i struggle with them so much myself.
Atonement will make you ache for what can’t be taken back. It will make you angry for all the seemingly minute events in your life that you wish you could change, had you known what lied ahead. But that’s okay, go ahead and read it anyway. It will be a good lesson on the sovereignty of God.
I loved loved loved The Secret Life of Bees, by Sue Monk Kidd. I’m discovering that I love first person stories written from the perspective of a child (like Davita’s Harp), and I love coming-of-age stories. Lily is fourteen, and she lives in the south during the late 1950’s (or maybe the early 60’s? There was talk of voting for President Johnson). She is motherless and lives with a father so unfatherly she calls him by his first name, and she worries she is responsible for her mother’s death. Circumstances prompt her to run away with her black servant, the woman hired to raise her after her mother died, and they find themselves in a little corner of heaven just a few hours away, at the home of three black, bee-keeping sisters.
Each chapter begins with an epigraph on the life or characteristics of bees that foreshadow the coming plot. I’m not sure which was more fascinating to me – the resemblance of bee communities to human society, or the ability of the author to weave a story in and through and around the secret life of bees. Those who keep bees (and you know who you are) and those who are writing memoirs with a nature theme (and you know who you are) will enjoy this book. The author creates a little hive, a put-together family with a queen, and we watch and wonder whether it will survive the heat, the cold, and the stress.
The Secret Life of Bees is a definite Must Read for the summer.
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(For ratings and other reviews on books I’ve read, visit my Shelfari page and my books category.)
First of all, someone needs to tell me what couscous is, exactly. I thought it was a pasta until my friend brought this salad to a picnic at the park and I was all, “Guess that South Beach Diet didn’t last long, DID IT?!” And she was all up in my face about how it was a recipe FROM THE SOUTH BEACH DIET COOKBOOK.
This is a light lunch that I have just about as much as the OTHER lunch I make containing tomato, feta, and cucumber. Are you sensing a theme in my lunch habits?
Anyhow, here’s how you make it…
Add salt to 1 1/2 cups of water, and bring to a boil.
Add 1T butter/margarine*
Add 1 cup couscous
Stir, then cover and remove from heat. Let stand five minutes.
Add one diced cucumber, one diced tomato, and feta to taste (about 1/4 – 1/3 cup)
Sprinkle with the juice of 1 lemon
Mix it all together.
(it’s best when chilled).
*This is probably optional, though it may help to keep couscous from getting clumpy
Baby Mine, by Rocks in my Dryer
I’ve been in a nostalgic mood lately, and this slice of life from Rocks in My Dryer hit me at just the right time. As my oldest gets ready for kindergarten and I begin the process of nudging my little birdies out of the nest, I needed to be reminded that all stages of parenting have their tender moments, even if wrapped in preteen silliness.
Jungle Beat Animation Shorts
I caught one of these animation shorts while channel surfing with the kids one Saturday morning – the one about the giraffe who bumps into the moon and knocks it out of the sky. My kids were in stitches. The animation is excellent, and the stories are entertaining and quirky. The DVD has an hour’s worth of five minute shorts. Sadly, Netflix does not carry this DVD, but Amazon does.
Don Miller and the Ride:Well Team
Remember that guy who wrote the book, Blue Like Jazz and To Own a Dragon? He’s riding his bike across America to raise awareness for the need in Africa for fresh water. When I watched the video on the homepage my first thought was, HOLY SHADOW OF YOUR FORMER SELF, BATMAN! Don’s lost a lot of weight, and he looks great! My second thought was, You go, Don. You can also follow his ride on Twitter.
Tweet What You Eat
Speaking of Twitter, Bryan sent me this link just yesterday, so I haven’t had a chance to set it up for myself. But what a brilliant idea! I’ve stalled after losing another eight pounds, and to be honest it’s because keeping track of my calories was bogging me down. I’m going to try this quick and easy way, since we all know how I heart twitter!
Use Literature Map to find that next great book
I always like it when something is functional and cool looking. I know there are many sites out there to assist in author “networking” to find books you might enjoy based on books you’ve previously read, but this one caught my attention. I entered author after author, just to see who else would pop up and how creatively they’d float around. I got this link from June’s Real Simple Magazine.
Yesterday I took my kids to the park in the late afternoon (the benefit of a crock pot dinner!), one that is located next to a lake. At one point they lost interest in me and hung out at the top of the Big Toy with other kids, so I sat down on a bench at the perimeter.
Suddenly I heard a familiar sound, one that caused all sound and vision to fade into a long ago time, and for just a moment I was standing on the path at Wood Lake Nature Center near my childhood home in Minnesota.
The sound I heard was of a Red-Winged Blackbird, a beautiful jet black bird with vibrant red “shoulders,” and I saw it flitting from tree to tree just to my left. I smiled. I don’t know why I’ve been thinking so much about Home lately, but I’m thankful for these small reminders of my childhood.
It’s a mystery to me how memory works. As a child I didn’t intentionally stop to catalog all the smells and sounds around me – I didn’t have any sense of time or future then. Yet when I hear the deep and hollow hoo hoo-ing of a morning dove, I’m instantly sent back into the deep crevices of my mind, snuggled in my bed on a Saturday morning, irritated at the hoo hoo-ing for waking me up too early.
I’ve never thought about the Red-Winged Blackbird in all the eighteen (!!!) years that I’ve lived in Seattle, and I never would have guessed they even existed here. In fact, had I not seen in flying past the Big Toy I wouldn’t have even known what I was listening to.
Thank you, Jesus, for serendipity.
