2013 Kicked Butt/2013 Kicked Our Butt

Dear 2013,

How could we have ever anticipated that we'd end up here? After ten life-filled, laughter-enjoyed, dirty, wonderful years, you brought me to my knees. You led us to the most courageous decision of our tenure as parents: To sell our family home and seek the new. Our venture has brought us anticipation, hope, sadness, grief, evaluation, loss, new horizons, growth, potential, and peace. You've brought us closer as a family and ever-nearer to our LORD. For all of these things we are thankful.

I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth.

My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad.

O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.

And now for some 2013 Picture awesomeness:

We "enjoyed" art

We kissed bananas

We took a bath in the sink

We enjoyed the simple things

We travelled together

We met our Great-Grandma

We welcomed a hatchling

We celebrated the Risen Lord

And gave thanks for HIS many blessings

We received our First Holy Communion

… and we Grew!

We made new friends

We sold our house.

We ate delicious food,

and went to building school.

We dressed up for Halloween,

and celebrated 40 glorious years at the top of a mountain.

2013 brought us to the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. To 2014, we say, BRING IT!! We have Our Lord, we have each other - we've got this.

Look at This

This here article

Take a look at this, my friends. It takes my breath away that there are still lists like this in circulation. "The 10 Most Hated Celebrities in Hollywood" and if you look closely, you will see, that 9 of the 10 are women.  Read the captions: "hated for her face," "hated for not being able to gain weight," "hated for her money," "hated for being stupid."

So, when we wonder why anorexia still exists; when we wonder why women still hate their nose,  or wish they had thinner thighs just remember this.

Keep your daughter away from the television.  You will be glad you did.

A Stream of Consciousness

Today, I heard an advertisement on the radio for a casting call catering to young girls.  They asked if your daughter likes to "sing and dance," and has ever "dreamed of being on their favorite shows such as Wizards of Waverly Place or The Suite Life."  I wondered who falls for this load of bull anymore. Don't we have a collective awareness that turning our kids into commodities is dangerous - if not fatal?

A friend (who I've actually never met, in real life) posted the following video on Facebook.  I have to confess that I loved it.  Miley Cyrus strips down We Can’t Stop! And while I am a huge lover of the party anthem and dance music, if you look at the poor child who is at the literal center of the music, you will see an addicted, broken shell who needed protection about ten years ago.

I've had an uncharacteristically difficult time transitioning from Homeschooling-Mother-of-5-Kids to Public-Schooling-Mother-With-Only-One-At-Home.  You can hate me or think I am a baby when I confess to you in all humility that I don't know what to do with myself. This is not something that I think is cute or humblebragging.  I am wont for a purpose and those are difficult waters to navigate. So, in an effort to get out of the house, Lucy and I went to H&M where I purchased a pair of MC Hammer pants, or what the upstarts like to call harem pants. Here's the thing friends: they are hella fresh.  I am fairly certain that they will be my new uniform until such time that Doc Martins and prairie skirts come back "in" and then I WILL BE ALL OVER IT.

I am contemplating using natural deodorant.

This week, I joined Twitter because, I don't know.  My foray into the Twitter-verse has forced my sweet husband to shut his own account down.  Sometimes I feel like Pepe LePew and the Cat with him on the internet.  Good thing he loves the daylights out of me, IRL.

Sometimes I feel guilty if I don't blog for a long time.  Like, someday when my kids are poring over my writings after I have gone to Jesus, they will wish that I had continued my tribute-journal to our life together.  So, if that is indeed the case, dear children this is my contribution to our posterity.

Figures.

Today I learned the following:

Jon Knight of New Kids on the Block is gay.

I have had exactly 2 (TWO) celebrity crushes in my life. The first, and most meaningful, being Jon Knight. It really burns my ass that I never really had a chance with him in the first place.

I have no idea why I am so pissed about this.  The only thing worse than this would be if Ralph Macchio is gay.  If he is, please don't tell me.  The 11 year old girl within simply cannot take it.

I PROMISE to start blogging again.  My life is gaining some modicum of normalcy these days, and I always find that reflection makes for good story telling.

Way to string me along, Jon Knight.

On Paintbrushes and Coffee Cups

This morning as I was touching up paint in our house in preparation for it to go on the market, I got a little sentimental.  The brush glided a silky trail of ivory over the sill where Michael used to race his Matchbox cars. A sweet childhood memory is now forever hidden under a gilt of semi-gloss.  I thought about the next mother who will occupy this starter-family home.  It has been a perfect shelter to rock my babies to sleep and prepare nutritious meals for their growing bodies - and it will provide those same comforts to the next family.  I will paint my sills so she doesn't have to do it.

As one thought often gifts another, I then thought about the older mom who might be preparing her house for me. Perhaps her children are grown and out of the house.  Perhaps she and her husband are moving to Florida, or Alexandria, or a houseboat in St. Michaels. Is she painting her sills, too? 

My thoughts drifted to prayers for these imagined, romanticized women, their children, and their new adventures - and then back to thoughts -  and then back to chores.  It was then that I promptly dipped my paintbrush into my coffee cup instead of the paint bucket.

Back to work.

What Is Love?

Some Background Music again (should you choose to listen...)



This afternoon, I was fortunate enough to sit in on the final rehearsals for Fiddler on the Roof.  To be in a room with such a talented group of young people leaves me in awe - but this time I was completely struck by the message of the play.

If you are familiar with Fiddler you'll know that one of the pervasive themes of the play is the interplay between love and marriage.  In the old days, marriage sometimes existed without love - and love sometimes existed without marriage - but progress has borne out: the two are better together.

As Tevye (the Father) and Golde (the Mother) must address all of these issues among their daughters, they are forced to examine their own relationship. The following exchange ensues:



(Tevye) -"Golde, I have decided to give Perchik permission to become engaged to our daughter, Hodel."

(Golde) - "What??? He's poor! He has nothing, absolutely nothing!"

(Tevye) - "He's a good man, Golde. 
I like him. And what's more important, Hodel likes him. Hodel loves him. 
So what can we do? 
It's a new world... A new world. Love. Golde..."

Do you love me?

(Golde) - Do I what?

(Tevye) - Do you love me?

(Golde) - Do I love you?
With our daughters getting married
And this trouble in the town
You're upset, you're worn out
Go inside, go lie down!
Maybe it's indigestion

(Tevye) - "Golde I'm asking you a question..."

Do you love me?

(Golde) -You're a fool

(Tevye) - "I know..."

But do you love me?

(Golde) - Do I love you? 
For twenty-five years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children, milked the cow
After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?

(Tevye) - Golde, The first time I met you 
Was on our wedding day
I was scared

(Golde) - I was shy

(Tevye) - I was nervous

(Golde) - So was I

(Tevye) - But my father and my mother
Said we'd learn to love each other
And now I'm asking, Golde
Do you love me?

(Golde) - I'm your wife

(Tevye) - "I know..."
But do you love me?

(Golde) - Do I love him?
For twenty-five years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-five years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?

(Tevye) - Then you love me?

(Golde) - I suppose I do

(Tevye) - And I suppose I love you too

(Both) - It doesn't change a thing
But even so
After twenty-five years
It's nice to know

Two of the most lovely, fresh faced young actors portray Tevye and Golde.  Their portrayal brought tears to my eyes, but I was most struck by how little these young adults actually know about love.  

A very wise teacher told me once that love is not the feeling that guides two lovers towards one another.  That feeling is infatuation. Infatuation is a very good thing but it is a surface level emotion that will either give way to real love or end.  Fortunate is the person who finds true love on the other side of infatuation.  

Let's Pretend That we're Dead

First, some background music...



(First let me say that I am so thankful that the trend of embedding music into your blog has died away. Nothing irritated me more than clicking on someone's blog and hearing their crappy Nickelback song accompany their crappy blog post. 2007 blog vent - over.)

Nowthen, I am working on my interpretation of Fruma Sarah and completely scrapped the other headpiece. Because, what dead bride wears fresh magnolias?  I think that dead brides should wear.....

DEAD FLOWERS!!

More like it, yes?

If I were a dead bride, I would totally wear this flower crown.

Next up, the veil.  Squeeee.  I think dead brides are totally more interesting than live ones.