Hand Full of Poop

It’s just me and Asher hanging out. Nelson and Beth are at the grocery and as far as I’m concerned they can take their good sweet time…because I’m savoring these moments—big time!

This morning Beth and Asher came to church. We then offered to keep him during Sunday School so that she could go home and get a nap. It was too easy! She jumped on that like…well, fill in the quickest analogy you can think of.

It was fun showing him off in Sunday School. Nelson kept identifying Asher as his new toy. Pepa! He was such a good baby. Everyone marveled at his sweet nature and his red hair.

Last night the funniest thing happened. I’ve been on poopy diaper patrol lately. Typically, I don’t mind, but this one was one for the books. I lade Asher on the floor on top of a receiving blanket and had successfully cleaned his little bottom. As I was getting ready to put on the new diaper he passed some gas. I sped up, but before I could get the new one completely under and my hand out of the way he pooped on me, on the banket and even into the new diaper. Beth was cracking up. Then as I turned him to the side to wipe up the mess a little he proceeded to pee the straightest little stream all over the floor. This just about put Beth into spasms she was laughing so hard. Nelson was sitting on his bed asking for a camera. Asher was doing the gassy grin and I still had a hand full of baby poopy. It was comical. No sooner had we cleaned up the mess but Beth was on the phone sharing the story and the laughter with her sister.

I prefer today’s peaceful cuddle time, but will confess last night’s laughter was pretty special too.

I was reading someone’s entry earlier and it caused quite a time of reflection for me. She was describing a trip to the ER with her 17yr old son, and how though in the process of life of letting go he grabbed her arm and asked her not to leave. I related so well to that this week.

Beth came into my room at 3:15 Monday morning. I awoke before she walked in when I heard her make her way to the bathroom. As she entered my room I was quick to ask, “Contractions?” She thought so. We called the hospital and was put through to her doctor. He instructed us to come in.

It was hard to watch my baby in so much pain. Her labor was very intense and in her back. Thank God for the epidural. That only left 2 hours of pushing. My job was to count and help her with that pushing. There were times when she snapped, but in her eyes I knew she wanted me there. I don’t know what words to use to describe the emotion as I witnessed Asher emerging. Then I got to cut the cord. He was so perfect. I treasure the entire experience.

Later, after moving to a quieter room, Beth was holding Asher and looking at him with such love. I smiled and said, “You’re a mom.” She was still trying to wrap her brain around it. It was just too amazing. “He’s yours forever.” That’s some pretty powerful stuff.

It reminded me of when she was in eighth grade. I think it was in January, maybe February. She had gone sledding with a friend. I was called at work that she had fallen off the sled and broken her arm—come home quick! That wasn’t hard since the hill was out front of our agency and we lived just at the bottom of the hill.

As I dashed home, I remember praying, “Please God let it be her right arm.” Strange prayer. Like God was going to say, “Oops, I broke the wrong arm…better fix that.” Reflecting on that moment, I’m glad hears our intent, especially when our words make no sense. I just desperately wanted God to be taking care of my baby.

Well, it was her right arm, and though that left her able to write, there were still things she couldn’t do: like wash her hair. Now, perhaps you can remember being 13 or 14, or you remember when your kids were. It’s the beginning of independence and the last thing you want to do is admit to your mom you can’t do something, or worse that you need her (gasp and horror).

I tried really hard not to let on how much I really treasured being needed again. I knew that days were coming when little Miss Independent was going to spread her wings and fly. I wanted it and dreaded it both at the same time. The time on Monday reminded me of hair washing. She may never need me in the same way again, but she will always need me. And that’s worth a hand full of poop any day!

Asher is asleep on my shoulder right now, making cooing little dream sounds while he sleeps. I just have to let you know—I feel so blessed.

Grandsweeties!

I think I did it!!!

The Week In Review

Wow. This has been one crazy kind of week. I will confess openly that I am abundantly thankful that it is Friday.

Baby first. Asher continues to be amazingly beautiful. Beth would like for him to get his days and nights straightened around. We’ve told her that will come. Ann came over on Tuesday with Penelope and Caden. I have a wonderful picture of all three grandsweeties but I don’t know how to post it. (Any and all coaching will be accepted.) Nelson has decided that Asher is Pepa’s boy.

Nelson. (insert deep sigh) The therapist told him at his session on Wednesday that he didn’t believe that therapy would increase the functioning of his ankle. This may be as good as it gets. That was really hard to hear. His next doctor’s apt isn’t until the 10th. So now we wait and see. Edit: Friday’s session held no better news.

Work. (insert head shake) I’m exhausted. A big part of that is mental (but you knew that all along). I start my day by getting everything going in packaging. I’ve been training D to take my job—I’ve been doing that from the beginning really, but it’s for real now. She’s feeling totally overwhelmed and inadequate for the job so I’ve been doing heavy duty encouraging there. Once things are situated there I’ve been moving to the new department to learn how to do that job. The new position is very hands on. I’m working with all kinds of power tools. I actually have a key to the toolbox—now that’s a hoot! Talk about feeling inadequate!

Now, I think I’ve mentioned, at least once or twice that I am a huge control freak. I am now in a situation where finding even threads of control are extremely limited at best. Too many people are telling me what to do. The guy who used to run the floor portion still works at the plant and has all kinds of knowledge, but doesn’t disseminate it well and doesn’t like the paper man of the department who doesn’t really know how to build everything who would rather I go to the engineer who is extremely soft spoken and who would rather defer to the guy who used to run the department who I’ve been told I’m not supposed to go to. Did I succeed in making that sound horribly confusing and conflictual? I hope so, because it is!

Edit: I talked to Ed about things this morning and he was wonderful. I was open about my frustration and my desire to be able to do my job well—and to the company’s satisfaction. He was able to assure. I left his office feeling excited and empowered.

And that’s just the mental exhaustion. Last summer they moved the packaging department to the back corner of the plant and then moved my office to close to that area. The new department is back right next to the old department—in the opposite corner from the packaging department. So I’m back to walking HUGE amounts either to go fix problems in packaging or just to go to my office. I keep trying to think of the benefits of this added exercise, but my weary legs are just thankful it’s Friday.

Writing. Last night I went to my first writers’ circle. The meeting wasn’t what I had anticipated, but it was okay. Each of us read a couple pieces and received input from the group. I read my piece from Christmas, “Fear Not”, and on from last summer called “Possibility.” I will go again and also probably seek out other sharing opportunities. Their encouragement (along with yours) has given me the oomph I needed to get some of my things out there and to also get busy on putting together other things for publication.

And now I’m getting ready to help give Asher a bath. What a wonderful way to start my weekend! May there be small bundles of joy in your weekend, too!

It's A Boy!

(Blue confetti is flying everywhere!)
Nicholas Asher was born at 1:43pm this afternoon.
He weighed 8lbs and 7oz.
He is 191/4 inches long.
He is absolutely beautiful!
Mommy is taking a nap.
Pepaw needed to come home and put his foot up.
Memaw is going to get the 'specially ordered dinner of Whopper and Onion Rings (two sauces), a large fountaine Pepsi, and a bag of sour cream and onion chips---she worked so hard she can have whatever she wants!

More to come tomorrow!

Kicked to the Curb

Turning on to our street when I came home from work on Thursday, I noticed that two houses down from our house there was a huge stack of stuff out on the tree lawn. Friday is trash day, but they only take trash on trash days. They don’t even take lawn/leaf refuse. They take trash on Tuesdays too, and that’s when to set out your recyclables. But nothing large is allowed. Until April, that is.

In April the town is divided into sectors and during your assigned week you can put anything and everything on the tree lawn. I have actually seen a kitchen sink! What’s really funny during that time is the trucks that cruise up and down the streets and the scads of people who scavenge through the piles and piles of peoples’ cast offs.

So it struck me as very odd that there was so much sitting out on the tree lawn. The house had had some remodeling done last fall, and initially I thought perhaps they were just retting out a bit more to go along with the remodeling. After all, one of the things boldly planted out on the tree lawn was a bright orange sofa.

A little later Nelson and I went out to dinner. We noticed that the pile had grown significantly, but not nearly as much as it grew by the time we came back an hour later. And it all began to make me wonder: why? What was going on? Did a neighbor die? Was the family cleaning up and out?

It reminded me of when my grandmother went into the Nursing Home. She was a collector. My parents called her a pack rat. She had so many antiques. She had stacks of quilts. When I was a child I remember venturing into the “front room.” There was no heat in the front room. There weren’t any lights in the front room. We would go there to retrieve treasures of all sorts and food from the chest freezer. Anyway, the door barely shut at the Home before my parent had a huge dumpster backed up to Grandma’s back door and they donned one-piece jumpsuits and emptied out the house. And everything, E-VER-Y-THING went into the dumpster.

I guess that shouldn’t have been too surprising to me. When I was very young my mother’s parents moved to South Carolina and we moved into their home. In the basement of that home was a beautiful round claw foot oak table. It ended up trashed. Later we moved into a house that had several attics. In one of the attics there were several boxes of antique glass. My mom threw them out without even unpacking them. Then, after my dad died and my mom moved to Arizona she gave away my great-grandmother’s bedroom suite and secretary desk. Gave them away to non-family members who had no interest in them and no emotional ties…like me.

There had been a group of people hanging out at the back of the house one time when we came by. There was a large pick-up backed up to the house with a few items in the back. And then it was gone. Who were those people? Kids? Relatives who just didn’t want to wade through all the “junk”?

The tree lawn was still piled high when I got home from work today. There’s a two-drawer file cabinet sitting there that looks good to me, but for some reason I just don’t think I could pick through the stuff. It feels somewhat disrespectful, cold and calloused.

I started thinking about what would happen when I die. Nelson has informed me that he is going first, his estimate is within five years. Annie has already informed of several items that she wants when I die. It’s kind of nice to know I have things that someone might want, especially when I realize I could live without most of it.

Things I don’t want on the curb:
-Daisy’s lamp. Daisy influenced my life in countless ways. She died during my senior year of cancer. She did macramé. Right before she died she started a hanging lamp. It lacked one panel for completion. Her husband and children got it finished and gave it to me as a wedding gift. It’s hanging over my “corner chair.”
-My great grandmothers mantle clock and the grandfather clock we gave my parents as a 25th anniversary gift.
-Grandma’s baby dish. It’s a crock like dish and there are still some of the decals showing.
-My books. I have lots of books. And while I have culled my collection since I’m no longer a pastor or counselor, there are still five shelving units and countless unpacked boxes. Part of the collection that I hope gets passed on are the very old children’s books.
-My brass rub. When I was in Europe during college, my roommate and I did several brass rubbings. I did one of a medieval nativity on black velvet paper with silver. My dad liked the piece so much he had it professionally matted and framed. It came back to us after my dad died.
-My Pooh collection. I have stuffed Poohs; Pooh watches; Pooh games; Pooh dishes; Pooh mugs; Pooh clocks; and newest of all a set of Pooh kitchen canisters.

The things that last though, I hope, won’t be found in boxes or on shelves. I hope not just some of my words will last, but the love behind them. I hope that there will be those who will remember my hard but be quicker to mention my constant love. When I die, there won’t be lots of money to hand out, so I hope that people will see that I spent my life on others.

I guess I hope when I’m gone that there won’t be much to kick out to the curb.

Discoveries

My how time flies.

We still don’t have a baby. Looks like he may arrive right on time. Beth is still working, albeit her shifts are reduced, but she’s plugging away.

Nelson has now added an electrical shock to his therapy. He’s getting around better and doing more things for himself.

A really, really interesting thing happened at work. Since Tuesday morning I’ve been trying to figure something. It wasn’t until I started typing this entry that the answer dawned on me.

One of the guys I work with came to me confused and concerned that one of the ladies in the plant mentioned someone to him that I had only said to him AND WROTE ABOUT HERE. Imagine that. And now, by tracing back the who said what to whom, I know who has been reading my diary from work—at least one of the “whos” and since I know that she doesn’t like me it makes sense why she would try and spread stuff around.

I had a meeting with the Job and Family Services worker and with the woman who had been spreading rumors and stirring up trouble. We decided to give her another chance. Some of the others were leery about it (those she had been spreading rumors about), but this work program is all about second chances. We’ll see how she does. If yesterday is any indication she’ll be okay.

My first Sunday playing on the Praise Team went well. I received a lot of encouragement to continue. At the rehearsal there was a hymn we were using that didn’t have chords written down and they realized it right away and helped me out. My fears are being put to rest and I’m getting excited about the new opportunities. I need my calluses to build up so my fingers will stop hurting—but it’s a good pain (if that makes any sense).

Yesterday, at the end of the day Mr. R came to the packaging office with one of the area pastors. I had heard of this man, he’s on staff at one of the larger churches in town. Mr. R wanted me to describe the T-Net program and its benefits. I jumped quickly into spiel mode—but it was so much more than that. At my old job, way back when it seems, I would go out and represent the agency and drum up dollars to support the program. Even though I knew this opportunity might be about dollars, I considered it such an opportunity to share the rich blessings I have experienced by being a part of this ministry and what I have seen it accomplish in the lives of others.

There’s more I want to write about but I need to get myself around for work. We’ll finish this later on…

Life Part Two

Still no baby. And Beth even worked a double shift yesterday. Going to put the crib together today.

Good news on Nelson. The therapist felt that Nelson hadn’t hurt his ankle. All the paperwork for payment on the therapy had been corrected for the past and put on file for the future. They did the “squeeze” on Nelson’s ankle and it doesn’t look like what we thought was swelling is swelling. He’s just going to have one large cankle. He’s been walking more without the boot and trying to get around without the crutch. Our house is good for this as we are tight fit and there’s plenty of furniture and “stuff” to reach out to as he walks from room to room.

I thought some more about how I described my joining the Praise Team. I really am excited for the opportunity, but feel way out of my league. Here’s an example of what I mean. I told the group up front I’m a REAL basic player. I told them about an incident I observed when I got to church early one morning and watched them practice. One of the singers complained about the key the music was in (she said she couldn’t find a harmony—whatever) so the musicians commenced to play the song in three different keys trying to find one for her to play in. I can’t do that. I need music written out in front of me in very basic chords. They nodded in understanding.

Then I went to my first practice on Tuesday. The leader had given us a CD of the music and I had listened to it several times at work. While we were practicing one of the songs I was doing my best to finger pick the chords rather than strum—adds a little and it’s as fancy as I get. I leaned in close behind the piano player and couldn’t hardly believe how badly my guitar was out of tune. At the end of the song I looked at the top of her music and there was a note she had written about changing to a different key. I wasn’t out of tune I was playing in the original key. No one told me we were changing the key. I felt foolish and even more sure that I wasn’t going to fit in.

It snowed last night, but worse than the snow was the wind. I was afraid when I crawled out of bed this morning I was going to find the house sitting in a strange place with a bunch of munchkins gathered around singing some strange song. But we’re still in Ohio, Toto. And that’s probably a good thing, wouldn’t want to travel to far from home with a baby so close to being born.

Actually, it seems like marvelous weather for some hot chocolate. So if you’ll excuse me…I wonder if we still have any whipped cream…mmmmmmmmmm.

Life

Still no baby. Tomorrow is a full moon.

Nelson walked up the stairs to go to the bathroom on Thursday. He heard something “snap” in his ankle. It’s been super sore since then. He’s been battling with Workman’s Comp, the therapy place, and the Dr. office about getting his therapy paid for. Someone isn’t doing the paperwork properly and in a timely fashion. So we ended up with a $2000 bill—it sort of goes along with the over $400 gas bill…and it hasn’t even really been that cold. Yippee.

It’s been a rough week at work. Today was the emotionally worst. On the 3rd a new program began and I’m supervising it. These new folks are working to be able to maintain their food stamps and other government assistance. One of these workers is a very unhappy and mean spirited woman who likes to gossip and make up stories about people. Well, she had a little info about me and she ran with it and decided to tell everyone on both work crews what she thought she new, but she was horribly wrong--almost laughably so. She also performed her character assassination on one of the other workers. It was a good thing for her that she didn’t feel well and decided not to work today. When I learned what she did I immediately called Dan and told him that she was no longer welcome on the work team. I will do everything in my power to make our workplace safe and positive.

The interesting thing that did come out of the above problem was the opportunity to discuss with a couple of employees the problem of making assumptions. Some of the new folks had never had contact with people who had been in jail or prison. They had been quick to judge based on what the nasty woman had said. They felt badly because after having worked with some of us they realized we were people who made mistakes, but we were doing everything in our power to put our lives back together.

It’s no fun being the target of someone’s venom, but if I can use my situation to help others then I guess I shouldn’t be upset.

Ok, I’m getting tired. Days are sort of like that for me. I get up, early. Play all my Scrabble games and read a few diaries/blogs. I work hard until I’m done. I come home, play Scrabble, read diaries/blogs, watch some TV and go to bed. Some days I get inspired to do housework and sometimes I write. Most nights the writing seems like drivel. I get better stuff on the weekend. Then I’m in bed around 9:30.

Two things are going to change that pattern somewhat. On Tuesday nights I’ll be attending Praise Team practice…at least for now. I was double teamed on that one. Nelson and the team leader were in cahoots and before I knew it I was agreeing to be a part of the 8:30 praise team. I felt way out of my league and may not be able to continue. I really am just a strummer. Then on Thursdays Nelson and I will be meeting with our new small group as a part of our church’s participation in the 40 Days of Community. I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be an opportunity to meet new people as we were randomly assigned to a group.

So that’s life. And bed is next.

Dream Sequence

I had a very interesting dream this morning. I know it was morning because I woke up after it and since it was the last dream I think I had I remember the most from it.

I dreamt that I was working for R Company, doing the job I do right now. A group from the company we have the packaging contract with came to visit our plant. Now there’s a woman that I have email contact with who is curt in her emails and just seems extremely unpleasant. I cringe when I see she has sent me an email. Any time I have to ask a question it seems she replies in her curt manner and uses the opportunity to cancel an order. It’s gotten so bad that I ask for permission to email her, because I fear her canceling of orders.

So, in the dream the group from T Company walks up to where I’m working. Mr. R is standing at the back of the group. This woman walks right up to me and offers me a job in the T Company, offers me a very large salary and a prestigious position. The catch is that I would have to work for her. I asked several questions and then looked right at Mr. R and turned the job down flat. He seemed to smile with such approval. Then I woke up.

Now this dream has weird written all over it, but also a couple of other things that felt really good. And surprisingly, they aren’t the things I would have suspected. Usually, work dreams for me are filled with feelings of failure: too much on my plate, missing deadlines, fumbling and bumbling. There was none of that in this dream. Normally, at least in real life, to be given such an offer would lift my saggy self-esteem up a bunch of notches. That part didn’t even faze me. More money would be such a blessing (especially with the baby due at any time), but it was no motivator at all.

I really enjoy my job and I can’t hardly describe how much I really like the people I work with and for. The very thought of having to work with this woman, even with commensurate pay was so incredibly unappealing—I refused without even thinking about talking to Nelson about it. Even in the dream I just knew he would understand. (We later discussed it and he agreed with my decision.)

Later Nelson and I were discussing how we slept and I told him about the dream. Then he told me he had a dream about Home Depot. Well, that was the other dream I had…too weird to go into. We just thought it was interesting we both dreamed about the same place and had some of the same people in the dream and some weird twists that were kinda similar.

I don’t interpret them. I barely remember them. But I do believe they have meaning.

Class Reunion

I’ve been reading so many deep and thought-provoking entries in other people’s blogs and diaries. And while I have been encouraged to think and remember, I also have been feeling exceedingly shallow. I feel thought-less. I feel shallow. Here’s how shallow I am:

In four months my class is holding it’s 30th high school reunion and I was just sitting here thinking about two things: how am I going to lose 40lbs before April 1 and how will I inform my former “best friends forever” of my criminal status.

Me. I never smoked a cigarette. Never even took one puff. Was only drunk once and got so sick I swore off alcohol completely. I never tried any drugs. I wasn’t even around them, that I knew of. I never got a speeding ticket and the only accident I caused was when I tried to park between two cars in a hurry because I was late for band practice and I hit a friend’s car and when backing from that I scraped my boyfriend’s parent’s car on the other side. I never shoplifted. My worse crime was over-due library books. I was fourth runner up to Miss Teenage Columbus, in the band, in choir and ensembles, in drama, and extremely active in my church youth group.

Me. I graduated from college. Got married. Had two beautiful children. Pastored for 20 years, and was a counselor for seven. Have 3 masters’ degrees, half the work done for a doctorate, and 4000 clinically supervised CPE hours.

I had everything and I handed it back. Stupid barely describes me.

Me. Arrogant. I could take on the world. I could flirt with danger. Rules were for others who couldn’t handle things. I was super mom, super counselor, super pastor. Boundaries were for wimps. I gave and gave and gave. Why hold back anything in reserve? Why even have a reserve? I was totally spread beyond thin and completely spent. And somehow I thought that was a good thing.

Sometimes when I reflect back to that time and it seems like a dream, like I must be thinking about someone else’s life. It felt that way while I was living it too, only it wasn’t a dream it was a nightmare and I couldn’t wake up. And being raised in an alcoholic dysfunctional family was great prep ground for being about to wear the mask of “everything’s just hunky dory” when I would need it at church or work or even home. It was a phony as Mr. Rourke on Fantasy Island: “Smiles everyone, smiles.”

Come to think of it, there was a lot of that “smiling” going on when I was in high school. My parents were alcoholics, but I didn’t “know” that. Mom never went to bed without a couple drinks first, and most nights she fell asleep in her chair. I thought she just woke up hard. I didn’t know they were hangovers. The first DUI I knew my dad got was when I was in college.

I wonder about affairs. Dad traveled for many years for work. He would leave on Monday’s and not come home until the weekend. He was quite flirtatious. The women all loved him. One night after several drinks it even seemed Mom tried to confess something. I was ready to hear it. I’ve never gone back and asked. My brother’s first marriage failed because he had affairs. My sister married a man whose wife had only been dead two months—their relationship had been “building” before the death. He ended up having affairs on Sis and they divorced. And then there’s me.

Not only did we know how to wear smiles to cover our shame; we knew mastered the art of the disconnected or fragmented life. Have you ever watched a little kid eat who can’t stand to have their food touch? Frantic effort is expended to make sure that there is no inner-mingling between meat and potatoes or potatoes and veggies. I was so completely deluded that I thought I could keep all those things separated in my life—denial. It’s poison, slowly killing the soul.

Tuesday morning a new group of workers started out at the plant. I’m supervising them. They’re working in conjunction with T-Net and with Job and Family Services. They have to work so many hours to continue to receive their benefits (food stamps). The agreement between T-Net and the R Company is that the work that these folks do will not be anything that would be regular R Company work. So mostly it’s busy work. Takes a lot of supervision. But I digress…

Anyway, when this group started on Tuesday, Dan introduced me and in that introduction told them I had a pretty interesting story that he hoped I would tell them some day. It’s the felon makes good story. I sort of blitzed by that and hoped that no one would ask. They didn’t on Tuesday, or on Wednesday. Today they reminded me and they asked so I gave them the Reader’s Digest version. Even without giving them a single detail of my crime, they stood there and a couple jaws dropped. I just don’t look the part. I don’t act the part. I’m not the part and yet I am.

You know, thinking back over this, perhaps there’s more than 40lbs I need to lose.

And why do I want to go to this reunion anyway? There are a few people I would dearly love to see. The group I hung out with were the brainiacs. My dear friend is a doctor, a heart surgeon. One of gang is a music professor at a university in the Chicago area. One was the editor of a popular magazine here in Ohio. Will the people I really want to see be there? Is there anybody wondering about me?

My life probably would seem like a tremendous disappointment to them. At times it feels that way to me and yet I know that it has been through brokenness that I have come to understand real love and forgiveness demonstrated through Nelson (over and over). It wasn’t until the arrogance was shattered and I reached out to grab the hand of one far greater than me that I began to see my significance.

These days there’s a smile, but it’s not contrived or covering. It’s born of genuine contentment—thin at spots and hard to discern but there nonetheless. And the masks come out rarely if ever. I’m just learning how to really be real.

Ok, now I’m sitting here and I’m wondering, not so much how I’ll tell my story, but what stories of journeys others have taken. Surely, I’m not the only one with heartache and growth to share.

I wonder how much weight everyone else is thinking about losing before April 1st.

Reader's Digest Version

I have not dropped off the face of the planet.
New Year’s Eve with friends was an absolute blast. Laughed a LOT and ate way too much.
Tuesday started feeling sick. Went to bed before 8pm and slept all night. Felt better, but definitely have a cold. Yay.
Wednesday after work Nelson and I went grocery shopping. He rode around in one of those electric carts. It was just so good to have him out and about.
At Beth’s appointment on Tuesday she learned that the baby now weighs 7lbs 13oz and will probably come in the next two weeks.
Things are possibly shaking up a bit at work…will write more about that later.
Nelson started feeling sick last night. He took some meds and went to bed early.
I slept late this morning and now have to rush. I’ll be back.

Getting Ready for the New

Nelson is napping.
Beth is getting herself around.
I’m sitting here at the computer, listening to the Top 20 Meltdown of Christian Songs from 2005.

I just browsed through my entries from this year. What a year it’s been. I started out with a trip to Mom’s in January. January should always include a trip to Arizona. It’s just the right thing to do. February included a visit to Annie’s and wonderful time with Penelope. March chronicled the start of my new position at R Company. April held late snows and my birthday. May was Nelson’s birthday and the start of the house construction—finally! June was when Nelson broke his ankle and so July was a time for surgeries and recovery. August held my own falling and wounding of my foot. September we began the pregnancy journey with Beth. October we started attending church again. Sweet Caden was born in November. December I shared some of my story at church and had a reflection piece published on the church website.

It was definitely a years of highs and lows, but one thing seemed to weave throughout the entries and thoughts and that was the grace of God expressed in multiple blessings and right on time mercies. Disappointments and discouragements flared, but were quickly replaced by peace and sometimes even joys.

I don’t know everything that 2006 will hold. I do know that we will have another new baby. Soon hopefully. I know that Nelson will have to figure out how to walk all over again and may have to face changing the way he does “work.” I know that I am going to start attending a meeting geared at helping aspiring writers. Nelson and I are going to hit the intentionally healthy eating plan again (notice what word I am NOT using to describe this) with the hope of losing some weight.

I’m going to write something every day. This means I am going to be reading more and observing more. I’m going to face the coming days with my eyes open to see, explore, and reflect. Having the Traveldrive will help in this commitment.

And I’m going to ride my bike this year. I don’t know how much. I’d love to get to the place where I was riding to work…we’ll have to see about that. I just know that I loved riding bike and I miss it.

Well, that’s all for now. I have some things to do around the house. I already did laundry, made breakfast, and vacuumed downstairs this morning. We’re going to drive down to where we used to live and spend the evening with some very dear friends of ours. We used to spend every New Year’s Eve with them. It will be sweet to be with them again. Besides Karen and I always whoop the boys at cards and I could use a dose of winning right about now.

Be safe and smart tonight and may the new year become for you a year of discoveries, mysteries, and beauty!

Frustration

Wherever I go.
Whatever I write.
Wait that’s not how the song goes…but it is how my writing is going. I can take my thoughts and creativity wherever there’s a computer. Another excuse removed by my amazing little Traveldrive that I got for Christmas. I’m pretty excited about this.

I wrote some things here at work. Then I wrote some more at home. I made corrections and deletions and now I’m back at work typing in the same files I was typing at while I was home. This technology is so cool.

Wednesday after work Beth and I were supposed to go to M-town to pick up her bed and then go get a mattress set. Well, the guy with the mattresses needed to cancel. Beth was disappointed. She still went to get the bed. While she did that Nelson and I went for pizza at Pizza Hut’s buffet. He showed off a bit, walking in the parking lot without his crutch. He only took about 20 steps and was warn out and had to go back to the crutch. After dinner Beth was back with the bed so I manhandled the monstrosity and got it up to her bedroom.

Thursday after work Beth and I planned to go to get the mattress set. When we got to the place we were disappointed beyond belief. The set that we were told about on the phone was trash—but they would sell us this better version for only $350. That was more than we wanted to spend and I was so irritated that we just left. We went over to Big Lots. They had a set that was still more than we wanted to spend, but Beth liked it so we called Nelson to make sure we had enough on the card. I went back in and wrote a Capital One check against the balance on the card. The clerk had to call for approval and the check approving company denied the check. So we came home empty handed again. I was so bummed. Beth is so uncomfortable sleeping on the futon and it’s becoming more and more difficult for her to get out of bed.

Nelson had his last therapy session Wednesday evening. He needs more. He’s at the doctor right now.

I wrote my therapist a letter. I haven’t seen her since March. It was a good way to think back over the year and examine some of the ways I’ve grown, held ground, and used the things I learned about myself through the course of therapy. It was a good exercise and a good letter.

That said, I must confess that I have nearly fretted about something to the point that I have made myself physically ill. I’m beginning to think maybe I’m not cut out for this job. Ed came to me right before lunch and told me he was shutting down the production line right after they finished the next order. It won’t start up again until Tuesday. That means there won’t be enough work for the team. I need to tell them that they won’t need to come in until next Wednesday. My head assures me that I did everything I could. I know that fiscally it’s the responsible thing—but they just were off two weeks because there wasn’t any work and now at least two more days off next week (we’re closed on Monday).

This level of disappointment has to be the manifestation of all the disappointments of this week—including anticipating bad news from Nelson’s doctor visit. All my perkiness is buried under a thick scratchy wool blanket—like the one I had in jail: very little warmth and no comfort whatsoever.

I just got off the phone with Nelson. He got frustrated with me and hung up. The doctor has told him to stop wearing the walking boot, gave him some smaller ankle support and told him to wear a shoe. I am beginning to think that his man may work well with bones but he is not a healing specialist. A surgeon, yes—but he is so blatantly clueless. Well, he did one thing. He moved me out of disappointment to full blown anger.

He’s still concerned with the swelling, but his solution was to write some note to the therapist that he needs to squeeze the fluid out. Having worn a compression hose for 6 weeks after three months of ace wraps didn’t “squeeze” the fluid out. But what do I know?

The only good I can see that is coming out of this is that he wrote a script for 6 more weeks of therapy, Nelson doesn’t have to go back to work before his next appointment (Feb. 2), and supposedly he’s healing nicely.

And now I have to push away from my desk, go back out on the floor and make boxes and act like nothing is wrong. I don’t think I’m that good an actress. I’ll let you know how I did.

News from Our Corner

I got another present yesterday. It didn’t come from friends or family. It was a gift from work. Since I started working in the factory I have had to wear my vision correcting glasses and then put a pair of safety glasses over them. This was awkward at times and downright painful at others. Two sets of ear pieces digging into the sides of my head. Two pairs of glasses steaming up on hot sweaty summer days.

When I got my new prescription glasses I turned in the paperwork for a pair of prescription safety glasses. My employer provides these. All it cost me was the visit to the optometrist which I was doing anyway.

So yesterday, at the end of the work day, Joy from the front office paged me to let me know that they were in. I was—am so excited. Granted they’re not as attractive as my other glasses, or as lightweight. They have side shields on them and a lined bifocal instead of nifty progressives. But I so don’t care! I don’t have to wear TWO pairs of glasses. And I don’t have to wear my cool prescription glasses—so they won’t get any scratches or other damage as they sit protected in their little snap case during the work day.

It’s going to rain today. I didn’t wash my car to make it rain. I didn’t kill a spider (old wives tale/superstition of my mother) to make it rain. No, what I did was make plans with the daughter to go pick up her new bed and mattress set after work today. I knew it was going to rain because I am becoming a weather vane. My aching toe (from the injury this summer) and draining (more like a deluge) sinuses informed before I ever got out of bed this morning that a rainy day was in store. Lovely.

Getting this bed is important, but it also looks like we should be hurrying to get a crib. Poor Beth has been swelling something awful. At the end of a work day for her, her little toes look like little sausages they’re so swollen. Yesterday at her now weekly check ups the doctor did another ultrasound and has decided that the baby weighs about 6 and a ½ pounds. Things generally pointed to her being in her 35th week, until he measured her belly and it read out at 41 weeks. He also told her she is losing amniotic fluid. Beth has been saying for days that the little guy is wanting to sleep in a crib. We thought it might be wishful thinking, but it looks like he’ll be here much sooner than originally expected. And I for one will not be disappointed!

And one last thing…I thought I had a hot flash last night. Nope. Yesterday the guys the landlord hired to put in the new furnace worked their magic and we have heat. And let me tell you: it works well. I think we can safely turn it down a couple notches…at least at night!

Have a truly wonderful Wednesday!

Christmas Goodies

Well, here it is two days after Christmas. As days with family go, Christmas came with its inherent stressors. Too many schedule changes to suit Nelson. He’s really lost his ability to go with the flow—it must go with loss of range of motion like with his ankle. But in the end, it was nice. My sis and her two boys joined Nelson, Beth, Annie, Travis, Penelope, Caden and me for the day. There was way too much good stuff to eat and grazing was the opted manner for eating.

Beth bought Nelson a football game for the Game Cube and that was a hit with my nephews and Travis. They ended up taking up to our room and hooking it up to my TV so the rest of us could watch football on TV…now that made a lot of sense? In the end I was thankful to have all that young energy off in another space…I sound so old.

Santa was very good to me. I got a jump drive so I can take my writing with me wherever I go. Beth bought me Scent Stories and a pay as you go cell phone. I love them both! Annie got me a basket full of yummy smelly things and the movie “Must Love Dogs”—my favorite kind of movie: Romantic Comedy. Nelson also got me a new coat. It’s a denim barn coat that has the Pooh characters on the back and also the front pocket. I absolutely love it!!!

The surprise gift of the day was also from Nelson. Since he couldn’t get out he did almost all the Christmas shopping from his bed in the living room—gotta love eBay! Well, something he ordered for me hadn’t come. But Sunday morning, Christmas morning, there was a knock at the door. It was a postal carrier driving a US Postal truck wearing a Santa hat. He was out delivering presents/packages on Christmas morning and he brought me my new Pooh umbrella. It’s so cool and I was so tickled to get it that way on Christmas!

Annie, Travis and the kids stayed over Sunday night and Monday we watched a couple movies. Annie, Travis, and Nelson watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith while I watched Mulan with Penelope. Later we watched Must Love Dogs—Nelson napped through that one. It was a quiet lazy sort of day—my favorite kind! For lunch we went to Applebees so that Beth could show off her niece and nephew.

Today it’s back to work. That alarm went off so dreadfully early, but that’s probably because I went to bed so late. I have a crew and we’re working away---in fact I need to get out there and make sure they’re on task.

May the Spirit of Christmas: love, giving, family, peace and joy continue to invade and bless your days.

Christmas Spirit

I’m not a Scrooge, I promise. And I know that in my circle of journal friends there are some (one in particular) that truly love the snow. But Friday after work and then again yesterday I felt my mood improve as the snow disappeared under the warmth of a December thaw. In fact yesterday it was so nice out that I just wore a jacket while I went out to finish shopping.

I was going to clean house and wrap presents, but instead I shopped, decorated the tree and watched football. The way things went was much more fun!

In the morning I went to the upscale grocery (that we had gotten a very generous gift card to) to buy fixings for dinner tonight. Ann, Travis, Penelope and Caden are coming today; as are my sis and her two boys. So with Nelson, Beth, and I we’ll have a small army to feed. We were given a spiral cut ham from work so we decided to have ham sandwiches and a bunch of yummy things to go with.

After lunch, I went back out again because I had forgotten a few things—big surprise there. While I was out I also stopped at Goodwill and found a pair of Carhartt bib overalls—for $5! I was pretty excited about that since they’re normally $50. These are practically new. They’re a bit baggy on me so that should make them way comfortable. I also got my haircut while I was out and stopped at Walmart one last time to buy a gift for a friend at work.

When I came home I started watching football with Nelson. He made a comment that I should probably take down the tree or get ready to face the ribbing of family since it was still undecorated. So descended once again into the bowels of this old house to retrieve decorations for the tree. I now am quite pleased with my “theme” tree.

I have no where to hang stockings here so the tree became a stocking tree. There are two strands of colorful lights, some garland and one ornament representing Nelson, Beth, and me—and the rest are stockings. Over the archway between our living and dining rooms I hung other ornaments, and the final decoration I put up was a sleigh bell wreath on the front door.

There are so many wrapped presents that there is barely room for people in the living room right now. It feels quite festive and really makes me smile. I just have a few more things to wrap for Nelson and then we’ll be ready!

Last night was also very special as Nelson, Beth, and I attended the early Christmas Eve service together at church. We opened the service by singing the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah. That felt really good! I went back for the 10 o’clock service to again sing with the choir. Standing in the glow of candlelight singing Silent Night is such a special moment. For a brief spanse of time there truly feels like peace. It’s as if God throws that cashmere blanket over us and shares the depth of his love for us and His deep desire to bring us peace—individual as well as worldwide. Maybe someday we’ll trust Him enough to receive those gifts for more than just the moment.

Well, there are presents to wrap, dishes to finish up, and a yummy Christmas morning breakfast to make…so I better scoot. Merriest of merry Christmases. Make sure you hug someone…and smile!!! Look for the blessings and tell me what you find.

Warm hugs and Hershey kisses for you all!

Just a Note

I wore a Christmas Tree on my head yesterday.
I wonder if people had a hard time taking me seriously? So what else is new?

The shipping clerk made me some yummy smelling candles a while back—they smell so good and make my office in the factory an oasis for me! Then she followed it up with some equally delectable potpourri. Yum! In the bag with the potpourri was a red headband that had a Christmas Tree attached to it. I had been wanting to wear it, but didn’t want to look goofy alone. She wore hers for a while yesterday (until the band started cutting off blood flow to the brain—gotta love old fashioned plastic headbands). I wore mine for the rest of the afternoon. I’m going to wear it all day today.

Yesterday I wore something else new! My glasses came in. I went last Tuesday for the exam and they came in Wednesday. They are so cool. I love the frameless look. And light! Wow, it’s like not wearing anything…on my face! And clear!!!! No scratches. I can’t wait for my safety glasses to come in so I don’t damage these.

I had workers yesterday. That was really nice. I was able to ease up a little on the physical labor and work my brain. Good thing it doesn’t go to sleep like my hand does…don’t ask my family about that one though…

Last evening I went shopping for a bed with Beth. We found the headboard and frame she likes, but are still working on the mattress set. Those things are so expensive. We looked at cribs. She knows what she wants but we just can’t seem to find it. That seems to happen a lot for her. We still have a month so we’ll keep on looking.

Today we have a carry in lunch at work. They bring a grill in and cook dogs and burgers. The place smells so yummy. Well, I need to go ice the brownies I made so I’m gone.

Twice Baked

Where to start…so many little things have been happening.
Saturday I baked. That in itself should draw a gasp from the crowd. The kitchen is not my environment. No one will mistake me for Betty Crocker. My cooking escapades are the fodder for many a joke with my family. So when I signed up to bring snack for Sunday School on the eighteenth, Nelson’s expression spoke volumes.

I decided that I wanted to make mini-muffins. How hard could that be? Or better, how hard could I make that, or them. I even found muffin mix that only required adding water. I was actually beginning to think that this could work. Along with the mixes I bought the cutest non-stick muffin pan (I had to go back to the store and buy the little papers).

I would like to report that the mini-muffins were a big hit. After Sunday School I was trying to pack up and I had to walk away from the table to let folks continue their talking and nibbling. I heard one person comment that they were one of the best snacks ever. Shoot, I was just hoping for edible!

Sunday night was the Christmas Musical Program at church. The plan was to have a dessert intermission. I signed up to bring something. Nelson put in a request this time for Tingalings. Another easy fix for me: melt the butterscotch chips (in a large pan) and stir in chow mein noodles, spoon on to a tray, and let sit (try not to eat them all before they sit). They were gobbled up!

The program was called Christmas Memories. Right in the middle the script called for a testimony of a Christmas that was difficult or sad, but in the reflection was good. The director had someone lined up and they cancelled out so I offered. I had several options of different Christmas memories, but really felt a thumb in my back to tell of my experience in 2001, the Christmas that followed my turning myself in and preceded my time in jail.

When I decided that this was the way to go, I spoke to the pastor to get his input and sort of to warn him. He was very supportive. Sunday morning I began to see why. His message had strong words about reconciliation and restoration. The way I planned to present my story followed well with what he preached.

I was nervous about sharing so I wrote out what I was going to say. I’m very glad that I did. Even with practicing on Nelson, I choked up as I read the words. But I made it through and moved quickly back to my seat in the choir.

There was one more song and then the break for desserts. I was quite surprised by the number of people that came up to me, before I could move from my chair, and gave me hugs while they told me how much they were moved by what I shared. The hugs were so genuine and life/love giving. My harshest critic (next to myself) even gave me words of praise. That would be Nelson…

At the close of the service Pastor G was wrapping things up and was able to tie his message and mine together and truly invite the people into receiving the gift of reconciliation and restoration that is being offered at Christmas…and always. In my heart, I knew the message was for someone…I just wondered who.

So all things considered it was a very blessed weekend.

Fear Not

(A reflection on the messages of Christmas)

The phone rang. Bad timing. I was getting ready, last minute rush of course, to head out the door for a weekend retreat. I looked quickly at the caller ID—Indianapolis: the younger daughter. A smile returned to my face as I grabbed the receiver.

Quick hellos, hers a bit stiff. That mother instinct bristled. “Mom, the first thing I want to say is that I’m all right.”

No conversation should start this way. The words that followed nearly buckled my knees. “I was hit by a car.”

I responded with, “Is the car okay?” Thinking that she meant she was in an accident and rear-ended or something. No, she was crossing the road from her dorm to the main part of campus, in a clearly marked crosswalk with a group of students, when a car decided to run the red light and plow right into her. Stunned, she got up and walked on to the other side of the road. The lady pulled into a nearby lot and checked on Beth.

Friends took her to the emergency room. Nothing was broken, but she was severely bruised and battered. Forget the retreat, I was ready to run to Indianapolis (about a three hour drive) if I had to just to be near my baby (who was twenty and way too independent for my liking).

“I’m okay. They gave me some pain meds.” There was some promise that she would call her father later. And she was off the phone. Reluctantly, I went on to the retreat.

There are just ways that conversations shouldn’t be started. I was reminded of this as I was reading my Advent devotional this week. “Fear not” should probably be at the top of the “don’t use” list.

Imagine being blinded by an incredible light while sitting out in the field at night keeping your eye on the sheep. Imagine being a young teen, engaged, hopeful of a normal life, and getting the news that Mary received. Imagine being Joseph. An angel, or a huge army of them, comes to you and says, “Look, don’t be afraid, but…”

For that matter imagine the “Fear nots” that come our way: Fear not, it’s cancer. Fear not, she’s had an affair. Fear not, it’s a pink slip. Fear not, it’s the transmission. Fear not.

Those are tough pills to swallow and our inclination, or least mine, is to go with Mary: how can this be? My downfall is generally in the moment I focus on the struggle, the challenge, and fail to see that if God is willing to send an angel, or an army of angels, then I can trust He’s got things covered. I just need, like Mary, to accept, ponder, and then move ahead in strength and confidence.

His “fear nots” are really promises. From the very outset of whatever it is that we are facing, He presence is His bond to be with us all the way. And that’s the good stuff to hold on to!

Naked Truth

I had a really disheartening revelation this morning. I had taken our full-length mirror and set it up higher to get a different angle on an outfit I was trying to decide whether to wear or not. It was a definite not.

I left the mirror up, no particular reason. This morning I caught a full view of my girth this morning and it wasn’t a pleasant discovery—not in the least. And a little light came on in my head—fortunately no more light was turned on in the bedroom.

It was a brief window into the Genesis experience of Adam and Eve realizing they were naked and realizing they were naked. They didn’t know that, they weren’t dissatisfied with the way they were until they listened to the deceiver and then there was a ruch to cover up.

Now here’s where I may be stepping a bit out on a limb, but it’s my revelation so I’m allowed. It seems to me that the “cover up” was denial and a major effort to keep from really seeing what was going on. At least that’s the truth for me.

I had been feeling pretty good that I had gone down a pants size this year. While that is a good thing, I let it become a camouflage to the real problem. There in my mirror this morning I couldn’t hide from the rolls and dimples of fat. I quickly put on my clothes for work and that’s when it hit me. I had become pretty good at blousing my shirt out over my pants to hide some those rolls. Long skirts and pants covered my dimply knees and no one was going to ever catch a glimpse of those thighs.

I hated what I saw. But grace made me peal away a few layers to get at some real loathsome stuff. What else was I getting good at covering up? What attitudes needed liposuctioned off my person? What grievous choices was I trying to sugar coat by giving them more politically acceptable labels? It was much easier to put on my work clothes and cover up my rolls than to escape the truth I was now seeing in my soul. I couldn’t yank a shirt on quick to get away from this.

I had another clothing thought/memory last night, also. This past summer I was delighted to find a plus size very lightweight flannel night gown. It’s about mid-calf in length, red plaid. Whoever had it prior to me had cut the sleeves off so that they are about ¾ length. I pulled it out and matched it up with a lightweight pair of thermal pajama pants. Yes, winter has arrived in my corner of Ohio and we turn the heat down a bit at night, so it’s time to pile on the pj’s and quilts.

Anyway, I was reminded of a much loved nightgown I had right before I got married. My mom had made it for me when I was in college. I have a few special memories of the things my mom sewed for me. Sewing was quite a chore for her, something it seemed she felt she HAD to do not something she wanted to do. This nightgown was a lime green color and I had her make it extra long so that I could wrap it up under my feet while watching TV or studying. I wore it to death. I can’t even count the number of times it had to be re-sewn under the arms and at spots around the yoke. Spots had been worn nearly throw that defied patches and yet I refused to part with it.

As I was preparing for my wedding both my parents sternly talked with me about how that nightgown needed to be trashed and shouldn’t be taken into the marriage. I knew they were right, but was too sentimental to follow through.

I did end up buying a really fancy nightie and robe set that was very pink and feminine. I planned to take it on our honeymoon. My friends loaded “my clothes” (in truth, they loaded an entire closet of about three different people’s clothes into the car because they didn’t know which were mine) into the car for us to take on our honeymoon. They were trying to be so helpful. But in the process of loading us down with strange clothing the fancy night-set fell off the hanger. Fortunately, I had tucked the ratty green flannel gown into my suitcase. I’m not sure why I did, but I’m sure glad. As it turns out, Nelson got a horrible case of the flu and slept in the other bed in the room.

Now there’s no startling revelation to go with that memory. Just a smile and reminder of my humanity and need for comfortable/cozy. If anything, it’s a thought for me to ponder about my need to hold on to things and stay where it’s comfortable.

Well, I have much to think about and a little work to do too, so I better scoot.