Today we had more Adventures in Baking with Bekah and VJ. I turned my head for a second (you just uhoh'ed, right?) and Bekah had unraveled the sugar bag and stuffed a fistful in her mouth. Yeaaahhhh.... like she needs it. After a great day at the park with our moms' group, the day went downhill in the way of tantrums and the like. On the flip side the cookies were a huge hit at work. What's more is that I'm planning on doing some more baking on a regular basis, which means getting a better handle on the lit'uns' attitudes.
Well that's one challenge; another is finding more weekend in the weekend. This past weekend was, well, less than thrilling. Bills weren't tight; they were screwed. We didn't have enough. Period. Jesse, in desperation, picked up a last minute overtime shift. That was Saturday evening/night. To no surprise he was crap on Sunday. I wanted to be mad at him (I was sort of), but I couldn't really be. I made him choose whether or not to take the shift and I knew we needed it. I had to do a lot of sighing and think, This isn't forever. Next weekend maybe we'll get to see that movie that came out last Friday that we've been dying to see. All it's going to take is a babysitter, but it's hard to ask sometimes.
Another challenge: Deciding when to ask, what to ask, how often to ask, because we really do need to ask sometimes. Whether it's a few hours of babysitting, some time to hang out, or even money, it's hard to ask all the time. Don't get me wrong: we don't ask for money. Sometimes I feel like we might as well sometimes though. My parents are paying for the rooms when we go to my cousin's wedding in Annapolis this summer with the notion that we'll pay what we can towards it. Really, if they were a business and we were clients, we'd be beyond collection. I can only hope we'll be able to help our kids out like this someday, or at least pay back my parents somehow... with the hopes that our children won't need the help.
So I guess it's all in mindset and attitude. When she shoved that fistful of sugar in her mouth, two things needed to happen: I needed to not freak on her and she needed repercussions to enforce that it was not okay. We skipped her turn and she freaked, but I ignored her cries and settled them when her next turn came along. I chose to not physically drag the BFF from bed to watch the movie we'd Red-boxed Sunday night and fought to not be too disappointed in our lack of weekend. The week goes by pretty quickly. I know if we miss seeing this movie in the theaters we can Red-box it later (although if opportunity arises we will find a sitter). We are blessed with a house, beautiful and healthy children, supportive parents, and a truly great friendship. Jesse and I may tease the crap out of each, but he's the first one I go to when I'm uncertain of anything. We vent to one another, lean on each other, and really couldn't imagine anyone else putting up with our personalities. When we have time, we can still laugh, still sigh, still talk about our kids' latest bizarre moments, and we're still in love in a world where that's a shady subject.
So I got a little corny at the end... What'd you expect with a title like that? Okay so what am I going to bake next...?
In Dreams...
Do you remember your dreams? Do you have dreams? Okay, everyone dreams, we need to in order to process our lives, but not everyone remembers them. Lately my dreams have lingered on the surface of my sleep night after night. I can even (sometimes) go back to them after waking to take Bekah potty and convince her it's still nighttime. Here's the thing: How valid are dreams anyway?
Some say dreams are a gateway to our subconscious, with which I agree. Some also say they're a gateway to an alternate consciousness which may allow us to travel beyond what our physical bodies can experience in this life. Food for thought. I've tried to go to sleep hoping, even expecting certain kinds of dreams; dreams with answers to difficult questions, dreams with clarity, dreams of escape. Sometimes I get sort of what I had asked for, though I'm disappointed with the result. A while ago, I prayed for an answer to a lingering hope which I've nurtured (perhaps beyond what's right) since my infancy. That night, I dreamed of my son playing on the living room floor happily. I knew what this dream was telling me: For now, focus on him. I was kind of bummed but I got the message and stop asking about said 'thing.'
The other night I dreamed of an elephant which I was going to consume with the help of a few guys. They were my guides and were showing me how to handle this creature piece at a time. While the pressing matter within the dream seemed something else entirely, I recalled mostly the elephant upon waking and knew this: I had a lot to take in now (or soon) and I would have help 'digesting' it all. Of course in the dream it wasn't weird that I was going to eat an elephant... while moving about in ankle to knee deep water. Yeah... I'm good at remembering dreams.
So that's interpretation, which by the way happens best through the dreamer more than by any book or expert. You know what things mean to you. You know how you felt in the dream, regardless how bizarre the description of the dream seems in waking hours. So what about the other consciousness part? I do believe in that as well. I believe we can be reached, when it's time and when we're ready, by things beyond our physical and waking ability. I've dreamed of those who have moved on from this world. I've made peace, been reassured. I know others who have experienced this as well. Today, I may have sort of promised a coworker that when she was ready... Well, it felt right to say and I'd said it before I knew it. I'm sure this will be; He's never let me down before.
My children dream now, quite vividly sometimes. With Bekah, the descriptions usually include dinosaurs but then again she's awake by then and quite the story-teller. She has intense dreams sometimes and I'm sure it's just that she's finding her way through that world now, a toddler realizing she can gain footing and move about this strange place of her own volition. As a toddler learning to walk may slip and falls at times, so she becomes frustrated and tosses and cries out in her sleep. I try to talk to her about her dreams when I come to her, unless she can calm herself. I wonder if she'll remember these dreams later in life as I remember a few from my childhood. I hope she does; they have more to teach upon looking back than they could at the time. I had a better understanding of what my dreams were saying and now can better interpret the more complicated dreams of my adulthood.
I don't always dream what I want to dream, and too often it's interrupted by crying children, but sometimes I so look forward to dreaming that I don't fall asleep easily. Speaking of which, sleep sounds good about now even though it's only 10:20pm. Hmmm... might be an early night tonight.
Dream well my friends.
Some say dreams are a gateway to our subconscious, with which I agree. Some also say they're a gateway to an alternate consciousness which may allow us to travel beyond what our physical bodies can experience in this life. Food for thought. I've tried to go to sleep hoping, even expecting certain kinds of dreams; dreams with answers to difficult questions, dreams with clarity, dreams of escape. Sometimes I get sort of what I had asked for, though I'm disappointed with the result. A while ago, I prayed for an answer to a lingering hope which I've nurtured (perhaps beyond what's right) since my infancy. That night, I dreamed of my son playing on the living room floor happily. I knew what this dream was telling me: For now, focus on him. I was kind of bummed but I got the message and stop asking about said 'thing.'
The other night I dreamed of an elephant which I was going to consume with the help of a few guys. They were my guides and were showing me how to handle this creature piece at a time. While the pressing matter within the dream seemed something else entirely, I recalled mostly the elephant upon waking and knew this: I had a lot to take in now (or soon) and I would have help 'digesting' it all. Of course in the dream it wasn't weird that I was going to eat an elephant... while moving about in ankle to knee deep water. Yeah... I'm good at remembering dreams.
So that's interpretation, which by the way happens best through the dreamer more than by any book or expert. You know what things mean to you. You know how you felt in the dream, regardless how bizarre the description of the dream seems in waking hours. So what about the other consciousness part? I do believe in that as well. I believe we can be reached, when it's time and when we're ready, by things beyond our physical and waking ability. I've dreamed of those who have moved on from this world. I've made peace, been reassured. I know others who have experienced this as well. Today, I may have sort of promised a coworker that when she was ready... Well, it felt right to say and I'd said it before I knew it. I'm sure this will be; He's never let me down before.
My children dream now, quite vividly sometimes. With Bekah, the descriptions usually include dinosaurs but then again she's awake by then and quite the story-teller. She has intense dreams sometimes and I'm sure it's just that she's finding her way through that world now, a toddler realizing she can gain footing and move about this strange place of her own volition. As a toddler learning to walk may slip and falls at times, so she becomes frustrated and tosses and cries out in her sleep. I try to talk to her about her dreams when I come to her, unless she can calm herself. I wonder if she'll remember these dreams later in life as I remember a few from my childhood. I hope she does; they have more to teach upon looking back than they could at the time. I had a better understanding of what my dreams were saying and now can better interpret the more complicated dreams of my adulthood.
I don't always dream what I want to dream, and too often it's interrupted by crying children, but sometimes I so look forward to dreaming that I don't fall asleep easily. Speaking of which, sleep sounds good about now even though it's only 10:20pm. Hmmm... might be an early night tonight.
Dream well my friends.
A Change of Character is a Change of Heart
{This is long overdue, both the topic and the idea of blogging on ideals and concepts instead of the mundane day-to-day rantings (though I'm thinking of doing an Andy Rooney segment).}
Those who know me know my truer nature: the more, er, zealous and, at times, over-committed child who goes from hiding her face to beaming it awkwardly after having shouted some unnecessary comment at the top of her lungs. It's most awesome when I'm gently corrected, suddenly embarrassed, or even completely ignored regardless how ridiculous I may have sounded. I certainly have never wanted to seem as such; who would? I simply wanted, in such moments, to be heard. Being the little sister, the over-achiever, the under-achiever (yes I've been both), the wall-flower to some or the fire-cracker to others leaves one feeling boxed. You're around these people; you're this to them. Be that. Kinda cramped in those boxes after a while. How could I grow? So when I try to switch voices from the goofy child to the young woman of reason it isn't always met with sincerity. Go figure. Enter now the scene of ridiculous to make a point, which isn't always made, and I feel dumb.
Let's address the other issue plaguing mine and 90% of other people's lives (wait, what percentage of humans are children under ten...) and that's stress. Usually it's money. Okay, almost always it's money and when there's little of that, there's LOTS of stress. We had a great time getting married, but couldn't find a house or the proverbial pot, ahem, later. We got pregnant, got more stressed, snowball of stress. Thought we'd be cramped in a room with one child? Guess what? Thing Two's a-coming! I was SOOO depressed! I love my children; have long before they were ever born, but I couldn't shake the droopiness, the loneliness, the helplessness, the uselessness, the stress, the stress, the stress... It got pretty scary at times. I tried escapism through writing but that's another topic for which no blog is worthy. I tried sleep aides. Melatonin and Valerian in combination helped which, in turn, helped with some cognitive reasoning. Work was affected but I'm not sure anyone noticed much. Jesse noticed, God love him, but felt helpless. It seemed that nothing was getting me out the funk I was in and the only occasional relief was prayer and crying. It was pathetic. Okay, maybe some would empathize and say it wasn't pathetic but I felt that way at the time (and looking back) but I just couldn't shake the whole drowning feeling.
So did the house cure us? Was the Love Shack the answer to our problems? Are you kidding?! We've never been in more debt, but I'm able to shrug a shoulder and brush it off like never before. Not saying we don't freak sometimes when the oil bill comes in (ahem, 'scuse me, just got a chill) but I feel far more in control of myself than I did before. My other half might be saying, 'Great, it was worse?' I may still be emotional, still at times apathetic of things, but I'm able to accomplish simple tasks once more... grocery shopping is still in the distant to never future. (Love you!)
Here's the bottom line. I faked my way out of it. Sounds lame doesn't it. It SO is. One inspiration was my OB, Dr. Morin. She had the sweetest and most calming voice so that I didn't care what she said. She could've said, "So we're going to have to stick this five gauge needle in your face and then cut you open before the anesthesia kicks in." I'd just stare back calmly with saucer-like hypnotic eyes and mutter, "Okay." Truth be told she made every visit and first childbirth itself go smoothly. So wish she didn't leave BI. She was truthful but calming, straight-forward but compassionate. I started putting myself in her character (speech and demeanor-wise) while working with patients myself. For most patients there was little difference, but for the strung-out, psycho-stressed moms and dads who looked like they wanted to blame me for their child's daycare-plagued illness or their teen's emotional and social problems... Well, I suddenly started cooling people down and getting nicer 'thank-yous' in the end. Diplomacy can be a powerful tool especially when paired with sincerity.
Was I cured? Course not! It was the beginning of a long road. I started taking pages from a few people on how to act positive. Now I might start to sound self-help-book-ie but I'll try not to. Bottom line is that I kept putting myself in a positive character and eventually I started believing it. It worked the best when I was helping someone else out of an emotional drought. I became the voice of concern, the voice of reason, the voice of compassion. I was once told I had hospitality; the ability to come to the person in need instead of trying to get him/her to come to my level for conversation. I held on to that concept and I began to understand a bit more about people and where they're coming from and where I wanted to be myself. God gave me some great examples to follow both at work and at home. I love them each dearly and don't yet know how to thank them. They may never know either, but I can at least repay them with kindness for now.
I need to divert for just a moment. In sixth grade I remember reading a book in which the main character's mother was described as being calm in the face of a tiger but jumping at the sound of a kitten. I loved the manner in which this mother was portrayed and have since always wanted to be regarded as such. Not that I want to jump at the sound of a kitten, but if my short-comings must be then let them be less significant than my accomplishments in the eyes of my children. I want to be that strong mother, able to face the dangers of life, holding her family together in trying times (Lord, not too many trying times if possible!) and able to talk things out during the difficult teenage years when parents are thought to be enemies. For the record, mine were not and my mother is that mother. Somewhere along the line I began convincing myself that I too can be that mother and, somehow, I'm going to be. Let's face it, I already do jump at the sound of a kitten but if I don't run scared from a tiger right now it's pure stupidity.
So I guess the status of this whole concept now is that I'm starting to believe I am becoming a more calm, in-control person. I'm trying to only speak when someone who cares will be listening, or when among friends because they're used to my voice anyway and I'll get over them ignoring me. Playing the part of the calm, not-about-to-scream-because-you're-screaming-but-I-can-be-louder mama is working far better than I thought it would. It's still trying, oh my is it trying, but I've learned to tune out the screaming/ranting/crying tantrums and be patient while they realize it's getting them nowhere. I have got a pair of *intense* children! It's hairy at times and I really fail my whole 'composed' persona sometimes, but slowly I am improving. The best part? I'm looking forward to things, planning things, enjoying the day, tiring them out, and actually getting a handle on things. I see a roadblock in life, bill or health issue, and I can look at it logically and reasonably figure out a solution. My thought process is that God isn't going to leave us homeless on the streets, or even hungry in our home. My aunt has a saying, "This too shall pass." My mother's family has another saying, "God is good."
Those who know me know my truer nature: the more, er, zealous and, at times, over-committed child who goes from hiding her face to beaming it awkwardly after having shouted some unnecessary comment at the top of her lungs. It's most awesome when I'm gently corrected, suddenly embarrassed, or even completely ignored regardless how ridiculous I may have sounded. I certainly have never wanted to seem as such; who would? I simply wanted, in such moments, to be heard. Being the little sister, the over-achiever, the under-achiever (yes I've been both), the wall-flower to some or the fire-cracker to others leaves one feeling boxed. You're around these people; you're this to them. Be that. Kinda cramped in those boxes after a while. How could I grow? So when I try to switch voices from the goofy child to the young woman of reason it isn't always met with sincerity. Go figure. Enter now the scene of ridiculous to make a point, which isn't always made, and I feel dumb.
Let's address the other issue plaguing mine and 90% of other people's lives (wait, what percentage of humans are children under ten...) and that's stress. Usually it's money. Okay, almost always it's money and when there's little of that, there's LOTS of stress. We had a great time getting married, but couldn't find a house or the proverbial pot, ahem, later. We got pregnant, got more stressed, snowball of stress. Thought we'd be cramped in a room with one child? Guess what? Thing Two's a-coming! I was SOOO depressed! I love my children; have long before they were ever born, but I couldn't shake the droopiness, the loneliness, the helplessness, the uselessness, the stress, the stress, the stress... It got pretty scary at times. I tried escapism through writing but that's another topic for which no blog is worthy. I tried sleep aides. Melatonin and Valerian in combination helped which, in turn, helped with some cognitive reasoning. Work was affected but I'm not sure anyone noticed much. Jesse noticed, God love him, but felt helpless. It seemed that nothing was getting me out the funk I was in and the only occasional relief was prayer and crying. It was pathetic. Okay, maybe some would empathize and say it wasn't pathetic but I felt that way at the time (and looking back) but I just couldn't shake the whole drowning feeling.
So did the house cure us? Was the Love Shack the answer to our problems? Are you kidding?! We've never been in more debt, but I'm able to shrug a shoulder and brush it off like never before. Not saying we don't freak sometimes when the oil bill comes in (ahem, 'scuse me, just got a chill) but I feel far more in control of myself than I did before. My other half might be saying, 'Great, it was worse?' I may still be emotional, still at times apathetic of things, but I'm able to accomplish simple tasks once more... grocery shopping is still in the distant to never future. (Love you!)
Here's the bottom line. I faked my way out of it. Sounds lame doesn't it. It SO is. One inspiration was my OB, Dr. Morin. She had the sweetest and most calming voice so that I didn't care what she said. She could've said, "So we're going to have to stick this five gauge needle in your face and then cut you open before the anesthesia kicks in." I'd just stare back calmly with saucer-like hypnotic eyes and mutter, "Okay." Truth be told she made every visit and first childbirth itself go smoothly. So wish she didn't leave BI. She was truthful but calming, straight-forward but compassionate. I started putting myself in her character (speech and demeanor-wise) while working with patients myself. For most patients there was little difference, but for the strung-out, psycho-stressed moms and dads who looked like they wanted to blame me for their child's daycare-plagued illness or their teen's emotional and social problems... Well, I suddenly started cooling people down and getting nicer 'thank-yous' in the end. Diplomacy can be a powerful tool especially when paired with sincerity.
Was I cured? Course not! It was the beginning of a long road. I started taking pages from a few people on how to act positive. Now I might start to sound self-help-book-ie but I'll try not to. Bottom line is that I kept putting myself in a positive character and eventually I started believing it. It worked the best when I was helping someone else out of an emotional drought. I became the voice of concern, the voice of reason, the voice of compassion. I was once told I had hospitality; the ability to come to the person in need instead of trying to get him/her to come to my level for conversation. I held on to that concept and I began to understand a bit more about people and where they're coming from and where I wanted to be myself. God gave me some great examples to follow both at work and at home. I love them each dearly and don't yet know how to thank them. They may never know either, but I can at least repay them with kindness for now.
I need to divert for just a moment. In sixth grade I remember reading a book in which the main character's mother was described as being calm in the face of a tiger but jumping at the sound of a kitten. I loved the manner in which this mother was portrayed and have since always wanted to be regarded as such. Not that I want to jump at the sound of a kitten, but if my short-comings must be then let them be less significant than my accomplishments in the eyes of my children. I want to be that strong mother, able to face the dangers of life, holding her family together in trying times (Lord, not too many trying times if possible!) and able to talk things out during the difficult teenage years when parents are thought to be enemies. For the record, mine were not and my mother is that mother. Somewhere along the line I began convincing myself that I too can be that mother and, somehow, I'm going to be. Let's face it, I already do jump at the sound of a kitten but if I don't run scared from a tiger right now it's pure stupidity.
So I guess the status of this whole concept now is that I'm starting to believe I am becoming a more calm, in-control person. I'm trying to only speak when someone who cares will be listening, or when among friends because they're used to my voice anyway and I'll get over them ignoring me. Playing the part of the calm, not-about-to-scream-because-you're-screaming-but-I-can-be-louder mama is working far better than I thought it would. It's still trying, oh my is it trying, but I've learned to tune out the screaming/ranting/crying tantrums and be patient while they realize it's getting them nowhere. I have got a pair of *intense* children! It's hairy at times and I really fail my whole 'composed' persona sometimes, but slowly I am improving. The best part? I'm looking forward to things, planning things, enjoying the day, tiring them out, and actually getting a handle on things. I see a roadblock in life, bill or health issue, and I can look at it logically and reasonably figure out a solution. My thought process is that God isn't going to leave us homeless on the streets, or even hungry in our home. My aunt has a saying, "This too shall pass." My mother's family has another saying, "God is good."
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