I'm sick of things coming out of my kids.
I'm sick of being puked on. I'm sick of smelling like puke. I'm sick of never having any shirts to wear cause they've all been puked on or I don't want to risk them getting puked on.
I'm sick of cleaning up poop. I'm sick of the smell and the sight of poop. I'm sick of rushing to change diapers when I hear it or smell it 'cause I'm worried it will leak out. I'm sick of being too late. I'm sick of trying to rinse the poop off of baby clothes. I'm sick of trying to get out poop stains from shirts and pants and the occasional socks.
I'm sick of boogers. I'm sick of wiping them off of noses. I'm sick of holding down screaming children while I try to wipe them off of noses. I'm sick of suctioning them out of noses. I'm sick of cleaning the boogers out of the little suction thingy. I'm sick of wiping them out of hair and off of cheeks. I'm sick of holding hands and finding boogers. I'm sick of wiping it off of my doors, my couch, highchairs, the fridge, the television and so many toys. I'm sick of finding it on the cats and being too lazy to clean it off, and then having to look at cats with boogers in their fur.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
I'm sick of things coming out of my kids.
There are times when my faith seems as easy as breathing... Times when reading my bible isn't a chore and worship flows naturally. There are other times when I struggle to even know why I believe. In those times I feel so cut off from God that I start to wonder if He has deserted me. What makes the easy times easy and the hard times hard? I know it can't really be that God has moved farther away from me so it has to be something I am doing... Or something I am not doing. Doesn't it?
It has never occurred to me before that my soul is built in such a way as to make intimacy and worship easier in some circumstances and harder in others. I've taken all kinds of quizzes about my ministry style and personality style and communication style... You name it, but I don't think I've ever seen one that asks me to think about ways of approaching God that come easily to me. Anyways, I took one I found on Randall's site and here are my results:
Becky - Based on your responses to the Sacred Pathways Assessment, your temperament favors a Naturalist approach to worship.
“These Christians seek to love God with the purest, deepest, and brightest love imaginable. Healthy contemplatives will understand that rich human relationships are a way to enjoy God's love, just as is solitary and intimate prayer... God can reveal Himself to us just as much in a conversation with a fellow believer as He can when we are on our knees in prayer.”
“Excitement and mystery in worship is the spiritual lifeblood of enthusiasts... Enthusiasts are inspired by joyful celebration... Let them clap their hands, shout ‘Amen!’ and dance in their excitement, that's all they ask... They don't want to just know concepts, but to experience them, to feel them, and to be moved by them... The necessity of maturity will probably lead virtually every enthusiast through (the) canyon of unanswered prayer, where expectancy runs dry and the only mystery seems to be where God is hiding.”
“Where we worship can have a profound impact on the quality of our worship. The naturalist seeks to leave the formal architecture and the padded pews to enter an entirely new “cathedral”, a place that God has built: the out-of-doors... The Bible is meant to be read outside... The phrase “river of life” seems quaint when the words are projected up on a wall; but its power is nearly overwhelming when you stand by a swiftly flowing river... The mending and binding so necessary to heal our stress filled lives may flow through creation. For the spiritually oppressed or the socially injured, a pleasing or quiet natural environment can help provide a spiritual release. Resting by a clear, free-running river or sitting on a sunny slope in blooming desert grassland can bring peace and joy into very clouded souls.”
Even if this quiz, or any quiz, can't completely sum up the way my soul best connects with God I have to say this is pretty accurate. I've noticed in the last few years that I get depressed in the winter when I'm stuck inside most of the time. I just figured the depression was causing me to feel spiritually dry, and not the other way around. I never thought about the fact that I feel most connected to God out of doors. I just thought I liked it outside... A lot. (Want to see what I mean? Look at this and this and this... And this.)
If I think back to a few key moments in my faith when I felt most closely connected to God the ones that stand out are almost all outside.. (And the other involved a very emotionally intense worship service where I know I heard God speak to me personally... I guess that's where the contemplative enthusiast part comes in.) It never occurred to me before that maybe I am built that way. Maybe my soul needs to be outside. Maybe the reason I struggle with going to church isn't because I am a bad Christian but because my church, in many respects, does not reflect the way I long to approach God.
Now, I'm not planning on moving to the mountains and living in a log cabin so it can be just me and God and nature... Although that does sound nice, doesn't it? It's just good to know where my strengths and weaknesses are. It helps me to understand that just because sometimes I struggle to really worship God in church that doesn't mean God isn't near. I might just need to take myself off to some field and do some dancing. (I've done it. It was fabulous.) Maybe some of the times when I think I'm really struggling I'm just in the wrong place. Should I stop going to that place because it feels wrong? I don't think so. Life is about balance and I think I could probably do some work finding balance in this area.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
The other night at Mom and Dad's... Ben was having some trouble sleeping. Ang finally handed him off to me at around 5:45 am after trying to get him back to sleep for around an hour. I took him into bed with me and made him lie down. We had some nice music playing and the room was mostly dark. Very restful. Very calming. Suddenly, Ben sits up and looks at me lying beside him and says, "I like to move it, move it." It pretty much went downhill from there.
The other day at Mom and Dad's... Ben was playing with some toys while Mom and I were visiting in the livingroom. Out of nowhere he starts begging, "Want some little sin? Want da little sin? Little sin? Sin? Sin! Sin?" We could'nt figure out what he wanted. Since we haven't got to the sin part of his theological education, we were pretty sure he wasn't trying to purchase an indulgence. We also eliminated the sun, Sam, and the Sims as other possibilities. We couldn't figure it out and had to let him cry a bit before he got over his sin fixation. It bugs me when I can't figure things out and so I tried to puzzle it out over the next couple days with no results. It was on our way home from Saskatoon that I finally got my answer. The boys both have colds and as I was giving Sam a dose of cough medicine Ben begged, "Want the little sin? Want the sin?" Ahhh. Little sin = Medi cine. Got it.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Life is such a crazy mixture of joy and crap, sometimes it's hard to know whether you are happy or devastated. At least that's how I feel right now.
My "Uncle" Doft and "Auntie" Carolyn are here visiting from BC with their adorable kiddies. For those of you who aren't family you should know that Doft (or David) is only three months older than me and Carolyn is around 5 years younger... 4 years? I don't know. Either way I never call either of them Auntie or Uncle unless I am being a pain and trying to make them feel old. (It's hard to do too, cause they're all cute and hip. Do people still say hip?) I have tons of pictures of the family and all our boys together. I am always so happy to be with them. (I think I want them to be my pets too. I wonder how Ang will react to having new pets in the house? She's so used to living in a one pet home. I hope she doesn't retaliate by peeing on the carpet and clawing at my drapes. Maybe if I keep them in the basement for a while first... They can sniff at eachother through the crack under the door to get sort of used to the idea of living together.)
I wouldn't expect to see any pictures or new posts for a while though. Ben and Sam are both sick and I expect I will be suffering along with them fairly soon. The snot is flowing, the eyes are glassy, the skin is warm, and the moans are frequent. Poor little guys.
We "celebrated" Ang's birthday tonight. Ben and Sam were miserable and then happy, and then really miserable and then ecstatically happy, and then miserable some more and then... Well you get the picture. Sick kids are so funny. It's amazing how quickly they can flip their happy/sad, or tired/hyper switches. I think Ben must have flipped his 40 or 50 times at the bowling alley alone. I'm not sure if it was a fun time that ended to soon or an exhausting trial that went on way too long.
All this to say I am reeling from this week at home. Nice things have happened and heartbreaking things have happened. I think I could easily go to bed and cry for an hour or two and still not feel quite whole again and yet I feel like smiling from the pleasure of spending time with the people I love most in this whole world. I guess that's just the way life goes. You order joy and it always gets served with a little paper container of crap.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Friday, September 15, 2006
I'm going to do something here that I don't usually do. I'm going to admit that I was wrong. After much contemplation, and a bit more experience, I can see that I said something that wasn't completely accurate.
Nursing Sam right now doesn't feel like being burned by acid at all. It only feels like that for ten minutes or so once he is finished. Initially, it actually feels a lot more like someone is peeling my nipple from my chest with a utility knife. Then after five minutes or so the pain recedes a bit and feels a bit like how I imagine it would feel to have your sore and blistered nipple yanked on with a set of pliers.
There. I hope that clears things up. I apologize for the earlier inaccuracy.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Just this once, I agree with a politician, "... it's hard to come to grips with the case of an individual who is prepared to end his life while killing strangers." (Stephen Harper)
I've had my mind on 9/11 all week and so the shootings in Montreal seem particularly baffling to me. What is wrong with people? Who kills for fun? 9/11 was insane. Knowing there are people out there who planned and killed a whole bunch of people they didn't know is horrifying to me. But somehow this recent shooting seems even worse to me. At least the al Qaeda murderers thought they had a cause. This murderer seems to have just done it because he felt like it. He thought it would be cool. I can't imagine what the murdered girl's family feels like today. How do you process the death of a loved one for absolutely no reason? Someone took away someone they cherish... Just because. I can't wrap my mind around it. I haven't even cried about it yet, which, if you know me, is weird. I'm sure I will, but right now the only thing going through my mind over and over is, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?" My head knows all the answers, but my heart is having trouble keeping up.
Monday, September 11, 2006
watching someone's someone
with an ache invading
glad and sad
to be so far
ashes and ashen
and tears streaking through
the grey of dead
papers gently raining
and then despair
did not find there
could people hurt
without knowing who
can't you come
and make this
i won't forget
you and they
who did it to
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Let's just all try to calm down and take and take some deep cleansing breaths. I think we can still make this work.
If you choose other and then put your blogsite address or post anonymously and then sign your name at the bottom of what you write it should work though. I like other best because it still publishes your comment as "so and so say" and links back to your own blog.
The new beta version still has some kinks to work out, including the fact that if you haven't switched to beta you can't sign in on my blog and vice versa. I guess that's why they call it a beta version. I think once they have it running properly it should be great, you should see the awesome new spell checker and editing features, but right now it is causing some inconvenience.
So I'll probably see if I can switch back until they've got it all fixed.
Breath in. Breath out.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
This is the fourth time in Sam's short life that we have had to deal with thrush. For those of you who don't know what it is I'm not going into details here but basically right now it means that when Sam nurses it feels like he's sucking acid out of me. And the acid has little nails in it. And someone is hitting me in the chest with a big hammer.
I'm all blistered. I seriously feel and look like I've been burned. Even my clothes hurt.
... And every three hours or so Sam gets hungry and he comes at me all freaky excited and breathing heavy. And I'm supposed to put my poor damaged "part" (for Dad's sake I won't say nipple... oops I said it) into that gaping mouth. Sometimes I cry a little.
I think maybe it's time to quit nursing. This is getting out of hand.
Plus Sam is grouchy again cause it upsets his little tummy. There. All done whining.
Friday, September 08, 2006
I've been meaning to do this for a while now, but Aunty Mitz and Robyn's dilemma has hurried me along. Blogger has these new beta accounts that let you do all kinds of snazzy new things. I've been meaning to switch everything over, but I've just been too lazy. One of the features allows you to keep your blog completely private except for the people you send an invitation to via email.
I'm testing it out with Ben's blog and have already encountered a few glitches. One thing I don't like is that it really works easier for visitors if you get a google account, and I don't want everyone to have to do that. You can avoid it by clicking on the link in your email invitation and then selecting "continue as guest", but that means you have to keep that link. I recommend bookmarking it instead of the actual blog address. The other thing that is a bit irritating right now is that I've managed to put all three of "my" blogs onto one account and I have lost Ben and Sam's profiles as well as the ability to write their posts and have them signed as anything other than "Becky". Which probably won't bother most of you, but it bugs the heck out of me.
I wanted to try it out for Auntie Mitz and Robyn's sake, and I am happy to report that it should work quite nicely for their purposes. It is a bit of a pain to set up at the start because you have to send invitations to all the people you want to be able to see your blog, but once that part is done I think they will be happy with the new beta accounts. Everything pretty much works the same or better and I'm pretty happy with the idea of keeping the boys' blogs private so I give the new beta accounts two thumbs up.
Anyways, if you didn't get an invitation in your email and you would still like to be able to see Ben and Sam's blogs just email me. You can do that by going into my profile and under contact there is an email link that you can click. Just make sure you tell me who you are cause I might not recognize your email address. If you aren't a family member I'm gonna need a recent RCMP criminal records check and a DNA sample. (Just kidding, just tell me who you are. I'm not trying to keep all strangers out, I'm just trying to make it a little more difficult for pervs to see my gorgeous little angels.)
Well, apparently I need to work a little harder on baby proofing our house. We had another close call today. My pulse is still racing a little. We almost had a full out catastrophe.
Ben came upstairs today with something on his feet. Something that struck fear into my heart. Something that filled my mind with the worst sorts of pictures. Yes people, he had marker scribbles all over his feet and PJ's. What was so scary about that you ask? I suddenly remembered that I had left out some permanent fabric markers and paints. I ran down the stairs picturing our nice tan carpet with green and purple and yellow scribbles all over it. Then I pictured scribbles all over our furniture. Then I pictured scribbles all over my nice white walls. Scribbles that would never come out. Oh the horror.
I don't think I can explain to you the relief I felt when I got down into the basement and found the markers, lids off, and no scribbles to be seen. I guess Ben was only interested in decorating himself today. Thank you Jesus. Another catastrophe averted.
Will someone PLEASE come to Dorkton and explain to the drivers here how a four way stop works? WHY IS IT that every time I want to turn left at one there is some BRAINLESS WONDER who is going straight through who thinks THEY have the right of way even though I stopped before they did? (Seriously. How do these people even manage to turn their cars on with only empty spaces where their brains should be?)
You know what makes me the maddest? What just PUSHES ME OVER THE EDGE? They always makes this dumb "I'm going straight so I have the right of way" gesture at me. Like I'm the stupid one. I'm clenching up just thinking about it. If they just weren't paying attention I could get over it. But they actually think they should get to go first.
I wanna know WHO TAUGHT THESE PEOPLE DRIVER'S ED? And where is he, cause I wanna clean his clock for him. Shine it right up. Make his clock so clean you could eat off of it. Glen never lets me follow these people home to explain to them how four way stops work. (Whoever stops first goes first. If you stop at the same time then you yield to the person going straight or to the person on the right. It's so simple. IT'S SO STINKIN SIMPLE PEOPLE!!!) One of these days when he isn't in the car I'm gonna though. I JUST WANT TO SO BAD. I NEED TO.
If I ever win the lottery I'm gonna buy myself an island and no stupid people will be allowed on it. Or at least they won't be allowed to drive. They'll have to walk. And sometimes if I feel like it, I'll drive a couple of them down.
(I keep picturing that dummy making that gesture at me and it keeps making me mad. I should have followed him. I'm gonna go make a post about Ben to cheer myself up.)
Thursday, September 07, 2006
All right chakins! I love you all, but there is this one tiny thing that I really need to discuss with you. (All the men run from the room because I said the "D" word.)
I get a few kinds of emails on a regular basis:
- A plea for me to forward the email to all of my friends and family because some child is lost or kidnapped or has cancer or needs help with a school project or whatever... They need my help.
- A plea for me to please forward the email to all of my friends and family because some crazy criminal has come up with a new scam to steal my money or murder me or sexually assault me or whatever... He's done it before and he's gonna do it again so I need to warn all the people I love.
- A plea with me to forward the email to all of my friends because something morally reprehensible is happening and I must sign and email the petition it includes to my list of contacts... It's the only thing that can stop it.
- An invitation for me to forward the email to a certain number of my friends and family with a promise of either a monetary or humorous reward if I do... I need to send it or I'll be missing out.
People. For the most part these things are hoaxes. HOAXES I tell you! You've been had! You've been told you are a bad Christian or a bad friend or you will suffer horrible luck. You've been promised that something funny will happen or you'll receive a whole crap load of cash. And even worse, in my opinion, you've sent this hoax to all of the people you know and put them in the line of fire. If only you'd done one simple little thing...
Copy and paste a piece of that email. Put quotation marks around it. Stick it in the Google search box. Hit search. Watch as numerous web sites are listed proclaiming that the email you are about to send to me is the truth or just a figment of someone's imagination.
Here is an example:
Subject: FW: shocking information about Jesus
Hello Everyone, If the Muslims do what they do, where do we stand as Christians? At the risk of a bit of inconvenience, I'm forwarding this to all I think would appreciate it too. Please help us prevent such offences against our Lord. It will take you 4 minutes! If you are not interested, and do not have the 4 Minutes it will take to do this, please don't complain when God does not have time for you, because He is far busier than we are. A disgusting film set to appear in America later this year depicts Jesus and his disciples as homosexuals! As a play, this has already been in theatres for a while. It's called"Corpus Christi" which means "The Christ Body." It's a revolting mockery of our Lord. But we can make a difference. That's why I am sending this e-mail to you. Will you please add your name to the bottom of the list at the end of this e-mail? If you do, we will be able to prevent this film from showing in America and South Africa. Hey, it's worth a shot! Apparently, some regions in Europe have already banned the film. All we need is a lot of signatures! Remember, Jesus said "Deny me on earth and I'll deny you Before my Father". Hit forward, and when it comes up, delete any e-mail addresses, fill in whom you want to send it to, scroll down to the last name (mine) and add yours to the list . When it reaches 500 please send to:
Thanks & regards,
(And then a big long list of people who have been HAD.)
Sigh. I'm not even going to address the part where it says if you don't have time for God maybe He won't have time for you either... I think you all can guess what I think of that load of stinking bull. (Wait. I will say one thing. Remember when Jesus was dying on the cross? I'm thinking he was busy then. Remember that guy next to him asking Jesus to remember him? I'm thinking if it was me hanging there, some guy who'd sinned all his life and was only rethinking it because he was a couple hours away from death would have ticked me right off and inspired a "You never had time for me before, so now I don't have time for you either. Na naa, na na na." Good thing God isn't as petty as we are. What? No. Yeah!) Where was I?
Aside from my issues with using guilt to manipulate people, there is the undeniable fact that these emails are almost always a load of hooey. I've seen two, count them, two emails like these in my life that were for real. One was the amber alert for the little Saskatchewan boy who got abducted, which I didn't google cause I already knew about it. The other was one from Carolyn, about the ecoli in the bagged salad, which I did google and it turned out to be true. (I had to throw out some bagged spinach cause of that email, so I guess maybe Carolyn saved my life!!!)
People. If you google it and it's for real, don't hesitate to send it to me. If you google it and it's a hoax, then do us all a favor and delete it. If you are too lazy to google it then please be too lazy to send it to everyone on your contact list. Aside from the fact that it's irritating, lots of people don't even read these things cause they get so many and so when real alerts come out they might miss information they need to know... Like the fact that my bag of spinach could have KILLED US ALL! (Okay, maybe not killed us, but it might have made us sick. And definately not us all, since I'm the only one who likes spinach in this house.)
Make google your friend. It's easy. It's quick. And you won't look like a dick. (Sorry, couldn't help myself. I love rhymes.)
Want more info? Check out this link: hoaxslayer.com
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, died yesterday after sustaining chest and heart injuries from a short-tail stingray barb while filming an underwater documentary. He leaves behind his wife Terri, his 8 year old daughter Bindi Sue, and his 3 year old son Bob. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm not sure why it is bothering me so much...
Maybe it's because it just seems so ironic and senseless. The guy did dangerous stuff all the time, and this is how he goes out. Apparently, he decided to quickly get some shots for a segment on his daughter's TV show to dispel the myth that stingray are dangerous. It was just a freak accident and a freak accident could happen to any of us. Any time. I find that thought a little disturbing, I have to admit.
Or maybe it's because he had a little boy who won't get to know his daddy now. It seems so tragic that a guy who was a hero to so many children is leaving his own children behind. The only memories his little boy will have of him are the same ones we'll have. The ones on film. It just doesn't seem right that the rest of us get to see the same things his son will see. He should have more than that. It's sad.
Or maybe it's because of my recent thoughts on parental guilt, that sure knowledge that you've made mistakes and you're gonna make even more. A few years ago there was this big uproar cause Steve held his little baby boy while he hand fed a snapping crocodile. A dumb, dangerous, thoughtless thing to do? Absolutely. But was the guy a bad father? I don't think so. In fact, from what little I've seen I'm pretty sure that daddy loved and cherished his little ones with way more passion than the animals he spent his life crusading for.
I can picture the news coverage and photos that would surface if I were a famous parent. Oh sure, I never held my baby in a crocodile enclosure, or dangled him out a window, or drove my car around with him on my lap, but I've done some dumb stuff and if it had been published... With pictures... It would have looked even worse.
I don't know which part bugs me the most... All I know is that it seemed like every link I visited yesterday had that picture of Steve and his baby and the crocodile and it made me sad. It made me sad that someone who lived life with so much passion was killed in a fluke accident. It made me sad that a little boy's hero won't be there when he needs him. It made me sad that a father's mistake seems to have defined his history as a dad.
The only thing that makes me feel a little better is the knowledge that no family judges its members with the cold self-righteousness of the public.
Friday, September 01, 2006
It's my first time. Unless you count the time I sold my Barbie Motor Home for $5.00 at Mom's yard sale. Turns out that was a huge mistake. I just found one that's selling on ebay for $86.00 with three days still to go. I should have kept it. Look at it.
That van was a thing of beauty. (Matthew, none of your cool car pictures even come close to this hot little number.) I can't believe I sold it. Hey Ang, let's pool our money and buy that one off of ebay. I bet it doesn't go for more than a hundred. Maybe one fifty. Now where was I? Oh yeah...
I'm all freaked out. Who's gonna want all the stuff I don't want? If I don't want it why would someone else? Hey. Do I really want to get rid of that glass? What if Ben wants it someday? Maybe I'll just put that back in the house. Maybe that pair of roller skates too. You never know when your gonna need a pair of roller skates... This is too hard. I'm gonna puke. (Pictures are coming soon by the way. Not of me puking, of the garage sale. You guys are sick.)