Divine Graffiti

Thoughts on spirituality, motherhood and just about anything else that floats my boat.

The Things We Do For Love August 10, 2008

Filed under: children, family, love — divinescribble @ 3:50 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Three days from now, my husband will hand over the keys to his office and walk away from a job that he worked hard to get.  He’s resigning as Director of Operations for Lancaster EMS in order to take care of his family. He’s doing it because he loves us.

What a wierd week it will be. Several months ago, we realized that someone needs to be physically present in our home nearly 24/7. Not for our children as much as for Andy’s parents. So, at the beginning of 2008, I severely cut back my hours at my business with the idea of being home.  Since that time, we have struggled with what direction to take. My being home has hurt us financially and I find myself working every single minute that my husband is home in the evenings and on weekends. That leaves little breathing room to hang out as a family.

At the end of June we came to the prayerful decision (at least I prayed quite a bit!) that it would be better for Andy to be home. Financially, we’ll do better if I work full time.  Emotionally, we’ll do better if I work full time. Domestically, we’ll do better if I work full time. Frankly…I should just stay away!! No…just kidding…but….

Andy is much more disciplined about the domestic chores. I’d rather play with the kids, surf the web and hang out by the pool than do laundry, clean, cook and grocery shop. I hate it. He likes it. In fact, in anticipation of next week at home, he already went out and bought more cleaning supplies!

Anyway, I would just like to say kudos to the man who would put up with me for nearly fifteen years and be willing to put aside his career to do the right thing by his parents and his children.  I know that for some people, this is a departure from what God intended when he created man as head of household, but for us it’s the right and sane thing to do.

Thanks, Babe!

 

There’s A Fine Line Between Motherhood and Insanity… May 14, 2008

Filed under: Christianity, child, children, family, love, religion — divinescribble @ 12:47 pm
Tags: , ,

…and I’m straddling it.

Working mothers vs. stay-at-home mothers has been an ongoing battle for many women. Hackles get raised, claws come up and tears pour. I don’t believe there is a mother alive who is not a “working mother.” Let’s get over the labels first.

My deepest desire is to be able to stay home with my children, raise them and spend all the time with them I can.

My other deepest desire is to own my own business, profit my family financially and have the independance that comes with being my own boss.

Right now, I am torn between those two things on a daily basis and, quite frankly, have been on this line for nearly 12 years.

There is no perfect model. The ultra-conservative religious (I did not say Christian) mother would say that I am not being the best I can be for my children by going to work outside the walls of my home.  She would say that my husband is letting us down by not being able to financially support the family on his own. She would say my children will be depressed, rebellious and needy.

The ultra-energetic liberal woman would say I should care for my own internal diva before becoming a slave to my family.  She would say that my husband and I are equal partners in this world, but because I pushed out babies, I should get some greater time off for myself. She would say that if I don’t do this, I will become depressed, rebellious, fornicatious and needy.

Neither of them are right and I’ve decided that I’m sick of the argument.

My internal diva is alive and well. My drive, passion and business acumen are steadily improving and my personal and family financial goals are in front of me. (Yes, this does include charity and giving because I do have a wide world view too). My children often don’t have me at the dinner table during a busy week at work, my son’s baseball games are not always attended by his mother and I do pay for daycare.

My internal mother is also alive and well. I love to cook dinner and spend time with my family. I would die without it. Over everything, I protect my family time fiercely and I don’t care who knows it. My children love me and although they miss me sometimes, they’ll be just fine. They are learning how to hang out with their dad in a way some kids never do.

So, I’m done with this argument among women.

We’re all in this together and without cooperation, support and understanding, we’ll kill each other with our judgments and that is not something I want my children to learn.

 

Sing Like You Mean It! April 26, 2008

Filed under: Christianity, Faith, child, children, family, mother, religion, singing — divinescribble @ 7:30 pm

I had to run an errand this evening. Pick up milk and tea. Luckily, the Turkey Hill is close to the Wine and Spirits Shoppe…so I stopped there too. I love Red Truck shiraz.  (And the chardonnay and Stolis I bought.)

Small little outings like these make me want to keep driving and see where I end up landing. It’s a rare occurance that I’m in my car alone.

Those people closest to me know that I like to blast music in my car.

The new Cadillac commercial asks, “When you turn your car on, does it return the favor?”

YES!

With the awesome sound and Bose speakers to match…I’m a wild and crazy cruisin’ Momma!  I picked the random CD option and cranked it.

Accompanied by Alison Krauss I drove and drove. Her duets with Robert Plant are just fantastic. My husband has a secret (NOT) crush on her. 

But, it was the ride home with James Blunt UNCENSORED that made me feel better.  Former British soldier turned magical musician. He ain’t too bad to look at either, ladies. But, I will warn those of you with sensitive ears to pick his censored songs so as not to offend any of your sensibilities. The man can sing and what a poet he is! He ain’t shy and he ain’t dumb…he’s pretty real.  He sings about things people pretend not to know about. There is raw emotion and real life stuff going on in his lyrics.  We all sit around each day hoping that no one actually hears the conversations that take place in our heads and James Blunt sings about them. He does like to use “vulgar language” as some would call it.

(Personally, I think a well placed curse word now and then is cathartic. No, maybe just really really great at making you feel better. I have a favorite one that I use now and then when the time is right. You’ll have to ask my hubby what that is cause I’m never tellin’)

James Blunt, cranked to the top end of the scale, curse words and all makes me feel pretty damn good.

I sang and sang and sang and sang and sang. I’m pretty sure the lady next to me at the red light in Bridgeport thinks I’m a loon. I had the sunroof open and my window down while I belted off key. What’s the point if no one can hear you?!

The reality is that I can sing and I can dance and in my former life before this reincarnation I think I was a rock star. (Just kidding). But…I felt so great driving and singing and blasting those Bose from my big huge truck…therapy.

While I sang, I thought a lot about life, childhood, marriage, motherhood and my world. Only one thing was easily decided:  My kids are amazing.

One is absent and my heart breaks for her.

One is a ball star and amazingly sweet. I want to be like him when I grow up.

One is troubled and beautiful and fragile.

The last one is four going on 10. He’s also ready to take control of Microsoft Corp.

I thought about love.
I thought about how we take all the things we have in this life for granted and then someday someone does something to mess with it…and we’re at a loss to know what to do.
I thought about prayer and that without the privilege of talking with my God, I’d be the loneliest woman on the face of the earth!
I thought about my church and how I really probably know only a handful of people, yet they’re all there with me on Sundays and other days.
I thought about the struggles my parents are going through and how that’s only going to get worse soon.
I thought about me and how I want to be young for a long long time.
I thought, “Crap! I’m going to be forty in a few years!!!”

And I decided that Erin’s okay. She’ll struggle and so will I. We’ve cried a lot this last week together. We talked and laughed. She hugged me a lot. I hugged her back.  We also had a lot of fun. Play therapy is a great thing, ladies and gentlemen.

There is so much I want her to know.  So much I want to shield her from and keep her from doing. I want to make all her choices for her so she won’t screw up.  I want nothing but peace and joy for her and that’s not even remotely possible.
I want her to relax, breathe deep, exhale slowly and enjoy being a kid.

But, I’m going to teach her to let her hair down, crank up the tunes, open the sunroof and slide down the windows. Grab her favorite tunes, turn the key and go!!

Take it to 70 on a country road.

Drive and laugh and Sing Like You Mean It!!

 

Private Tears April 14, 2008

Filed under: Depression, Faith, Worry, children, family — divinescribble @ 8:14 am

I probably shouldn’t blog this stuff, but I’m not sure where else to put it. Since people we know and are close to read my blog, it’s a little bit unnerving sometimes to bare my soul. But, writing is my therapy and this is my outlet. It’s personal, private stuff put out there for the world, I know that.

My daughter turned 9 years old a few weeks ago. She had been looking forward to this birthday like never before because finally we were giving her a birthday party. I broke my promise last year to let her have a party when she turned 8 and she had never quite forgiven me. Let me tell you, this 9th birthday party was to be the bomb!

This past Saturday, fifteen little third grade girls, my sons and one friend of Liams, three adults and two ice cream cakes were scheduled for a 1:00 pm start to a swim party at an indoor water park.  At 3:00 Saturday morning, Erin came to my room with a belly ache. By 6:30 she couldn’t stop crying and was so exhausted from no sleep. At 9:45 she puked. No fever, no illness, not a sign anywhere of germs or contagions.

By party time, she was “fine.” One small episode of barfing during the party (no one noticed), otherwise she did great and we all had a lot of fun! She scored some awesome presents, including five new Webkinz. I’m a little jealous; I only have three. After the party, she slept for awhile and then went to bed early. Slept all night on the floor of my office so she could be next to our room. The belly pain began again in the wee hours of Sunday, and she stayed home from church with her dad. By lunchtime, she was pink and perky and ready to go.

This hasn’t happened to her for a long time. She has abdominal migraines/cyclic vomiting and there’s no real explanation for what precipitates these episodes. Her belly aches do seem to be worse when she’s worried or if something really exciting is coming up. Like Christmas, dates with mom or…her birthday party.

These cycles, coupled with her violent temper worry us enough that we’re meeting with a counselor this week to see what she says. Play therapy. Erin doesn’t know yet and she won’t be going with us. This is for grown ups to talk. We are actually quite concerned about the road ahead for Erin and what we’re going to find out. She frustrated, angry, worried, overwhelmed and tired. She’s depressed. I was a clinical pediatric nurse long enough to know she’s not behaving “normally” for her age.

We’ve got a few good ideas as to what’s bugging her; we may never know for sure. Nothing is simple.  I know too well what depression’s murkiness feels like.  I also know that we can do nothing to fix this. God is fully in control.

What a long strange trip it’s going to be.

 

The Sign of the Cross March 10, 2008

Filed under: Bible, Faith, bedtime, children, cross, family, jesus, prayer, sign of the cross, sleep — divinescribble @ 10:34 am

 

I wrote this little blurb for myself about two years ago. (My aforementioned soon to be teenage son was then ten years old).  Sorry, it’s outdated, but still true.

        As I tucked my ten-year-old son in to bed last night, he did a weird thing. With closed eyes and sleepy limbs he seemed to wave his hands over his stomach and chest before he pulled the covers up. There was something very deliberate about it though and it took me a minute to figure out what he was doing. I stood and stared for a minute before I asked him,

“Do you do that every night?”          

“Yes,” he replied. “I always do that. It helps me feel safe.”         

It seems that my most profound moments with this child are when he is half asleep. This is the same boy who sat and talked to God at the foot of his bed when he was yet in diapers. And last night, he did something so simple yet so subconsciously that I wondered how often and how long he had been doing it.  It is apparently part of his bedtime ritual, performed with the fog of sleep closing in, yet so meaningful to him.          

He was crossing himself. Making the sign of the cross over his body to protect him from harm and notify the world that he is the child of God.           

When will I be so entrenched in my relationship with Jesus, that even in my sleep I invite him to be with me? When will it be second nature to me to call out to him, rather than a last resort when all my attempts otherwise fail?            

When will I ever learn?

 

tiki tiki tembo no sa rembo chari bari ruchi pip peri pembo March 8, 2008

Filed under: children, family, girlfriends — divinescribble @ 9:44 pm

It occurred to me tonight that I will be the parent of a teenager in approximately one and a half years.  Liam and I were watching some wierd health show on Discovery and it was just the two of us.  He oughta be a pediatrician or a teacher or a OB/GYN or something that involves hanging out with kids.

I don’t know if I’m ready to parent a teenage boy.  Teenage boys and I have a very short history.  I dated a few of them and that is about it.  They were rock-n-roll “heads” full of themselves.  Skinny kids with ripped jeans and a penchant for trouble.  They loved ZZ TOP and Deep Purple. They were always getting in trouble and grinning their way out of it.  They drank wine coolers and beer, smoked cigarettes and barely passed classes.  I am sure that one of them is now gay and the others happily married complete with kids and corporate jobs.  That is my experience with teenage boys.

 My husband was once a teenager.  He fits the above discription fairly aptly.  He tried his best to get out of the house and do what he wanted.  I think he managed to break up a firehall BBQ dinner by setting a back woods shed on fire once.  The biggest loss there was the collection of beer cans that he and his cronies had accumulated.  My guess is that the ashtray didn’t burn out enough and the walls went ablaze.  He also got his head and hand busted by getting smashed with a baseball bat during a party he decided to throw at his parent’s house while they were away.  Silly man.

 My 11 year old son is already eyeing our in-law quarters and planning what great parties could be held there.  Ironically, this kid gets sick every time he gets remotely close to being in trouble!!!  I think he knows I can smell a keg from three miles out and wouldn’t tolerate too much idiocy.  He’s way too anxious to pull it off.  He’s also got a lot more respect for us and his friends than to consider it seriously.  I think.

My 11 year old son also has a girlfriend.  She is absolutely beautiful and really cool.  She’s got him “whipped already” as Andy says and Liam is really smitten.  It’s been nearly 18 months since we started hearing about Alicia.  She’s been to the movies with us, football games and basketball games.  She did this cute thing for Valentine’s Day with hearts and XXXOOO and cool metallic pen designs on it for him.

tiki tiki tembo no sa rembo char bari ruchi pip peri pembo

google it.

It’s the honored son’s name and it means “the most wonderful thing in the whole wide world.”

 

Sweet Childhood March 5, 2008

Filed under: children, family, marriage — divinescribble @ 1:51 pm

I can’t believe it’s been a month since I wrote anything! Not that I haven’t thought about it.

My two older kids came home from a church function last night soaking wet. A water fight apparently took place outside the doors and both of them ended up in the middle. I haven’t seen such a satisfied, carefree expression on Erin’s face for months. It was as if all her anger dissolved in a water battle; she danced to bed.

Idyllic childhood.  My husband’s childhood is not filled with laughter or craziness, magic or imagination. His parents didn’t tickle him, laugh with him or make tents under tables. He behaved. It’s hard for him to break out of that with his own kids and not get angry when they come home soaking wet from a water battle. I watched a little conflict pass through his thoughts last night before he smiled at them.

My childhood was full of imagination and stories. Warm laps and fun. I remember being dragged around the house in a blanket screaming each time I hit a table leg. I remember being high up on a tree limb, legs wrapped around a rope and just jumping out as far as possible. When the moment was right, letting go and landing in a huge mud puddle. That was joy! I am the opposite of my husband; I love the chaos and drama of wrestling children and dogs barking at them. I love mud and puddles. I really love water battles and sprinkler fights. I don’t behave enough.

When did we decide that laughter gets too loud and giggles too silly? When did we, as parents, feel the need to reign in the fun if it’s bugging us? Why can’t we go barefoot outside if it’s wet or too cold? Who cares if our clothes match when our friends are waiting for us to hurry up and come out!

Right now there are goldfish cracker crumbs in my bed and marbles under my table. There are handprints on the fridge and dirty socks in the kitchen. There’s a little booger stained boy asleep in his bed with a smile on his face cause he had fun eating those crackers in mommy’s bed.

I want to stop worrying about towing the line and start living life again to the fullest. I want my children to feel each and every ounce of the day deep inside their souls. To try something fun even if it’s messy. No one has died from going to bed dirty. Each day they watch us to see what it’s like to be a grown up. I want them to look forward to it!

We only get one chance at each day. Dragging ourselves through it and managing to collapse is no way to live. Scheduling the hell out of our families so we don’t get bored or miss something is stressful and hurried. Having dinner at 6:00 and bedtime at 8:00 every day is just crazy.

Eat pizza in your pajamas, fill the bath tub with bubbles.  Read Dr. Seuss with all the voices. Stay up late if there’s a good show on. Tuck your teenager in for once. Turn up the music really, really loud. (Best if it’s Duran Duran or The Cars).

Get up in the tree and jump!

 

I lost my Energy February 5, 2008

Filed under: children, family — divinescribble @ 8:39 am

Colin laid his head on the kitchen counter. He had sleepy eyes and a heavy head. He gave a big sigh and said, “Mommy, I lost my energy.”

The kid is 3 years old! He exudes energy and pizazz! Where did his “energy” go and for that matter, how does he even know that word?

I feel like that sometimes. Today is one of those days. I lost my energy somewhere between 10 pm and 7 am and I’m unlikely to find it soon. I feel torn in multiple directions and I don’t know where to start and stop. A friend asked me the other day which hat I wear the most in my many roles. I have no idea! I’d like to pare down to two or three hats instead of six or seven, but I’m still not sure what needs to give the most yet.

All I need is a week on a beach with a cabana boy bringing me my umbrella drinks and my energy would resurface quite quickly, I am sure.

 

Discharge January 23, 2008

Filed under: Change, aging, children, elderly, family — divinescribble @ 11:18 am

Well, Andy’s dad is coming home on Saturday from the rehab facility.  Now the fun begins.  He got around the apartment okay with his walker; only a few minor furniture placements need to be addressed. 

It wasn’t until yesterday that it really hit me how much this whole situation affects my children.  They are struggling to be normal kids in this world with all the activities and friends and stuff that goes with that.  They deserve to have fun and don’t worry about the grown ups in their life…only that’s not what’s happening.  I spent the long weekend at home with all three of them and still can’t get over how irritable they are.  Erin wants to sleep all the time and needs to be prodded to go to her friend’s house.  Colin won’t let go of my leg when I’m here and Liam wants out.  None of that is good and none of that is the way it used to be.  They have two working parents who also have the responsibility of taking care of their aging grandparents.

While I was supposed to be home yesterday with my kids I spent the morning (two hours of it) helping to balance the checkbook next door.  Unplanned, unannounced and without thought to how it would affect others.  It just happened that way and so when my kids looked at me and said “I thought you were going to be HERE today” I nearly cried.  They miss their mom and dad cause when we are here; we aren’t here.

Something’s gotta give. I just don’t know what.  And, it’s gotta give soon. 

 

I Wanna Talk to Your Face! July 30, 2007

Filed under: child, children, family, humor, kisses, love — divinescribble @ 6:20 pm

    

He stood at the side of the pool dripping wet. With his little orange and blue swim suit, orange and blue life vest and a great big smile on his face, my youngest son wanted my attention! I had obviously been ignoring his constant “mommy” “Mommy” “MOMMY!” since it is a mantra I have tuned out effectively.  So, he changed it up and instead said, “I wanna talk to your face!” He reached down to where I was in the pool, put his little hands on my cheeks, brought his lips close to mine and then…gave me the biggest raspberry he could! That got my attention and I was his.

How often do we stroll through our day talking with people and not really listening to them? The constant whining and complaining all around us gets so droll and I, for one, tune it out. But, maybe they need someone to hear them for awhile. Even the petty, irritating stuff. Instead, we’re too busy holding our end of the conversation that we can’t wait for them to quit talking so we can start in.  Especially children.

I think God does that sometimes too. He wants to talk to our face. Look us in the eye. Get square with us and plant a big fat raspberry so we’ll pay attention. What does it take for us to live beyond ourselves a little and pay attention to someone else or listen more closely to what God has to say? I’ll bet that each day has a few raspberries in store if we’re willing to notice.