Dear Jason,
Twenty-eight years ago today I was born, and you were three months old. There was no way that we could have known what God had planned for us.
But it was good.
Love,
Eleanor
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
On a scale of 0 to 10 ...
Hello. My name is Eleanor, and I'm a distracted messie.
I don't really know how this happened, or when my family first noticed it. I suppose it's hereditary.
I first learned to recognize it when my mother gave me a book -- one that I think she had been given herself -- called, "The Messie's Manual." In its chapters I found descriptions of myself, nodded my head, and even laughed out loud. I'd never before known that my problem was so common.
I don't think my father is a true "cleanie;" he probably falls in the "4-6" group on the given scale of 0 to 10. "0" = disaster, "10" = perfection. They say "0-1"s don't even come to a Messies Anonymous seminar. They don't care enough to want to change. "7-9"s are cleanies; there is really no need for them to attend a seminar like that. It's the "2-3"s that need help. Although, "4-6"s sometimes come to learn and get a little better.
To be brutally honest, I actually fall into more than one category of messie. I think it was 3 or 4. Yikes. But "distacted messie" is the one Jason and I laugh the most about. I've come a long way since I've been married, believe me. In fact, I have a mental list of things I want done around the house each week, and I'm really good about getting them all done. Well, I was before I became pregnant. But like I say, I was pretty proud of my progress.
Lately one child or another has been waking up in the middle of the night, and sometimes I have trouble going back to sleep. After being up for an hour and a half last Saturday, I decided to get out of bed at 5 in the morning. I figured I could pick up some toys that were scattered in the den, start some laundry, and maybe even wash the dishes I was too tired to tackle the night before. I started out well enough in the den. But when Jason walked out to see what had become of me a few minutes later, I felt a little sheepish.
"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to pick up a little bit. But then I saw this book I've started and realized that I hadn't read the forward yet, and I really wanted to . . ."
Are you beginning to understand what a distracted messie is?
I don't really know how this happened, or when my family first noticed it. I suppose it's hereditary.
I first learned to recognize it when my mother gave me a book -- one that I think she had been given herself -- called, "The Messie's Manual." In its chapters I found descriptions of myself, nodded my head, and even laughed out loud. I'd never before known that my problem was so common.
I don't think my father is a true "cleanie;" he probably falls in the "4-6" group on the given scale of 0 to 10. "0" = disaster, "10" = perfection. They say "0-1"s don't even come to a Messies Anonymous seminar. They don't care enough to want to change. "7-9"s are cleanies; there is really no need for them to attend a seminar like that. It's the "2-3"s that need help. Although, "4-6"s sometimes come to learn and get a little better.
To be brutally honest, I actually fall into more than one category of messie. I think it was 3 or 4. Yikes. But "distacted messie" is the one Jason and I laugh the most about. I've come a long way since I've been married, believe me. In fact, I have a mental list of things I want done around the house each week, and I'm really good about getting them all done. Well, I was before I became pregnant. But like I say, I was pretty proud of my progress.
Lately one child or another has been waking up in the middle of the night, and sometimes I have trouble going back to sleep. After being up for an hour and a half last Saturday, I decided to get out of bed at 5 in the morning. I figured I could pick up some toys that were scattered in the den, start some laundry, and maybe even wash the dishes I was too tired to tackle the night before. I started out well enough in the den. But when Jason walked out to see what had become of me a few minutes later, I felt a little sheepish.
"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to pick up a little bit. But then I saw this book I've started and realized that I hadn't read the forward yet, and I really wanted to . . ."
Are you beginning to understand what a distracted messie is?
Vanity sale: $3-$30,000
*Here you go, Heather! :)Yesterday I was driving alone in my car to Wal-Mart. The "alone" part of that sentence is rare enough, but I was also sporting a new haircut and a scarf Jason brought me from Israel. I was feeling pretty good. Pretty stylish. Even evniable, you might say.
I stopped at a red light and noticed a red convertible on the other side of the intersection. And it occurred to me that I didn't need one. I was pretty sure I felt just as amazing as that guy did in his costly car with just my $18 haircut. Or with just my $3 scarf.
Maybe that's a guy thing, I thought. Needing to spend lots of money to feel important, instead of just having a new hair style or a new accessory.
Until I drove past and saw that the driver was a woman.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
What I've been thinking about lately.
For starters, I am pregnant. I smiled as I typed that; it feels good to push that news out further than my family and hometown friends. I've wanted to post it on facebook, but things keep making me wait. And since I've gone so far to write that sentence, I might as well explain what those things were. Because of the title and all.
I always have an early ultrasound now, because of my past ectopic pregnancy. When the doctor had searched for only a few seconds, she said, "And it looks like there's two in there!" Sure enough, two beautiful, black circles were in the pictures we took home that day. She scheduled another ultrasound in three weeks, to get heartbeats and make sure everything was ok with the babies. For three weeks, Jason and I pictured our lives as parents of four, as a family of six. We thought about the extra baby equipment we would need, whether or not we'd get two boys to balance out the two girls we have, what it would be like to go places with two little babies, pictured each of us holding one in church. We weren't able to hold back our excitement, and told almost anyone with working ears. It was so hard to wait for that next ultrasound, so hard to wait to post those pictures on facebook for the whole world to see.
But the next ultrasound picture had one baby. The doctor said the other twin "absorbed." I'm sure that's supposed to be a less painful way to announce that kind of news.
And you know what? It's really hard to know the right way to grieve and celebrate all at the same time. It's hard to tell people here our sad news, and still tell others whom we haven't talked to recently our happy news. I really thought that maybe some time this week I would tell the cyber world that we're having a baby; that maybe that would help some of the excited feelings I wanted to express to get flowing. But one friend announced a pregnancy last week, and another this week. And . . . I don't know. I don't want this baby to seem like "another baby" to someone else. I want this baby to be special, to have it's own important announcement.
And so I wait. And I pray. And sometimes I cry. And I try to sort things out.
So as not to leave anyone feeling depressed, I'll share the other things on my full plate of everyday thoughts. Jason is in Israel for two weeks. He left yesterday. Two weeks, People! He's never been away that long. And after only one day of him being absent, Elsie has learned to say, "I want Daddy." Which would be sweeter to me if I didn't now have to explain X number of times per day for the next 13 days where he is. To a child not yet two.
Speaking of Elsie, we're potty training. We started last Monday, and had almost zero results for 3 days. I was not really expecting that. I mean, I was expecting her to fight me sometimes, but I wasn't expecting her to scream nearly every time we walked into the bathroom, or for her to knowingly "hold it" until a time when she wasn't on the toilet. By day four it was mildly better (only sometimes did she scream), and then she got sick. "Throwing down" kind of sick. Strangely enough, I think this has been a fortunate turn of events in the potty training scheme of things. We put her in diapers, but kept taking her to go potty, and she started having more hits than misses. Or at least, equal amounts of hits and misses. And I've noticed now that she doesn't cry when we go to the bathroom unless she is really not going to go anyway. AND -- sometimes . . . she comes up to me and whines, and when I ask her if she needs to go potty SHE SAYS YES. (Well, ok, she says, "yeah." She doesn't actually say "yes" yet.) And then she goes potty! It is truly amazing to me how I thought some of these things would seem routine or old hat with child number two, and they are so not. I am so stinking proud of Elsie sometimes that I think the zipper on my sweater is going to burst.
The last thing that I'll mention is that my kids are really cute. Tonight we were eating dinner. It was a lot quieter than normal -- in fact, there was almost no noise at all. Usually we're all vying for Jason's attention and conversation (because let's face it, the three of us have spent ALL day together and we have nothing new to say to each other by the end of the day). But the silence wasn't uncomfortable or boring. I just used it to stare at my girls. To marvel again at the grown up faces Elsie makes that look so ridiculous on so small a child that I laugh out loud. To look at Natalie one more time to make sure I'm not missing anything, because she's growing up so fast. To look at these beautiful faces that walk around my house everyday like they belong to ordinary people. And I'm so glad I'm their mommy.
My thoughts. Just in case you were wondering.
I always have an early ultrasound now, because of my past ectopic pregnancy. When the doctor had searched for only a few seconds, she said, "And it looks like there's two in there!" Sure enough, two beautiful, black circles were in the pictures we took home that day. She scheduled another ultrasound in three weeks, to get heartbeats and make sure everything was ok with the babies. For three weeks, Jason and I pictured our lives as parents of four, as a family of six. We thought about the extra baby equipment we would need, whether or not we'd get two boys to balance out the two girls we have, what it would be like to go places with two little babies, pictured each of us holding one in church. We weren't able to hold back our excitement, and told almost anyone with working ears. It was so hard to wait for that next ultrasound, so hard to wait to post those pictures on facebook for the whole world to see.
But the next ultrasound picture had one baby. The doctor said the other twin "absorbed." I'm sure that's supposed to be a less painful way to announce that kind of news.
And you know what? It's really hard to know the right way to grieve and celebrate all at the same time. It's hard to tell people here our sad news, and still tell others whom we haven't talked to recently our happy news. I really thought that maybe some time this week I would tell the cyber world that we're having a baby; that maybe that would help some of the excited feelings I wanted to express to get flowing. But one friend announced a pregnancy last week, and another this week. And . . . I don't know. I don't want this baby to seem like "another baby" to someone else. I want this baby to be special, to have it's own important announcement.
And so I wait. And I pray. And sometimes I cry. And I try to sort things out.
So as not to leave anyone feeling depressed, I'll share the other things on my full plate of everyday thoughts. Jason is in Israel for two weeks. He left yesterday. Two weeks, People! He's never been away that long. And after only one day of him being absent, Elsie has learned to say, "I want Daddy." Which would be sweeter to me if I didn't now have to explain X number of times per day for the next 13 days where he is. To a child not yet two.
Speaking of Elsie, we're potty training. We started last Monday, and had almost zero results for 3 days. I was not really expecting that. I mean, I was expecting her to fight me sometimes, but I wasn't expecting her to scream nearly every time we walked into the bathroom, or for her to knowingly "hold it" until a time when she wasn't on the toilet. By day four it was mildly better (only sometimes did she scream), and then she got sick. "Throwing down" kind of sick. Strangely enough, I think this has been a fortunate turn of events in the potty training scheme of things. We put her in diapers, but kept taking her to go potty, and she started having more hits than misses. Or at least, equal amounts of hits and misses. And I've noticed now that she doesn't cry when we go to the bathroom unless she is really not going to go anyway. AND -- sometimes . . . she comes up to me and whines, and when I ask her if she needs to go potty SHE SAYS YES. (Well, ok, she says, "yeah." She doesn't actually say "yes" yet.) And then she goes potty! It is truly amazing to me how I thought some of these things would seem routine or old hat with child number two, and they are so not. I am so stinking proud of Elsie sometimes that I think the zipper on my sweater is going to burst.
The last thing that I'll mention is that my kids are really cute. Tonight we were eating dinner. It was a lot quieter than normal -- in fact, there was almost no noise at all. Usually we're all vying for Jason's attention and conversation (because let's face it, the three of us have spent ALL day together and we have nothing new to say to each other by the end of the day). But the silence wasn't uncomfortable or boring. I just used it to stare at my girls. To marvel again at the grown up faces Elsie makes that look so ridiculous on so small a child that I laugh out loud. To look at Natalie one more time to make sure I'm not missing anything, because she's growing up so fast. To look at these beautiful faces that walk around my house everyday like they belong to ordinary people. And I'm so glad I'm their mommy.
My thoughts. Just in case you were wondering.
Friday, March 12, 2010
You know you're a mom if . . .
You can't remember the last time you ate an entire apple by yourself.
You say things like, "Pull up your pants, please" or "Tuck that piece of hair behind your ear."
Or things like, "Do you want to say thank you to your sister? Or do you want to sit on your bed?"
You feel accomplished when you clean a room, only to turn around and find the room behind you has become a disaster area.
Somewhere in your house is a small, electronic something that needs a new battery. And you know this because it won't stop playing the same three notes over and over again.
Today you cleaned up a water mess on the floor. Tomorrow you will be sweeping up half a box of cereal.
You own a crayon/marker drawing that did not make it to the paper.
You helped confirm the statistic that parents of 2-3 year olds answer the question, "Why?" up to a staggering 70 times per hour.
The bulk of books you read are finished in 3 minutes or less.
A bag of tiny marshmallows can save your day.
You hear "I love you" randomly throughout the day.
You can't wait for bedtime -- because you love the snuggles.
You realize you're already doing the most important thing you'll ever do.
You say things like, "Pull up your pants, please" or "Tuck that piece of hair behind your ear."
Or things like, "Do you want to say thank you to your sister? Or do you want to sit on your bed?"
You feel accomplished when you clean a room, only to turn around and find the room behind you has become a disaster area.
Somewhere in your house is a small, electronic something that needs a new battery. And you know this because it won't stop playing the same three notes over and over again.
Today you cleaned up a water mess on the floor. Tomorrow you will be sweeping up half a box of cereal.
You own a crayon/marker drawing that did not make it to the paper.
You helped confirm the statistic that parents of 2-3 year olds answer the question, "Why?" up to a staggering 70 times per hour.
The bulk of books you read are finished in 3 minutes or less.
A bag of tiny marshmallows can save your day.
You hear "I love you" randomly throughout the day.
You can't wait for bedtime -- because you love the snuggles.
You realize you're already doing the most important thing you'll ever do.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Step One: Today
It used to bug me when people said, "One day at a time." It seemed like what they were really saying is that they were putting off action on something I wanted to see happen soon!
But lately, this phrase has become very comforting to me. When I'm stressed out, or starting to worry, or think "Holy Cow, how am I ever going to do this? And if I do it today, how in the world will I do it tomorrow?" -- then suddenly, "one day at a time" can make me stand back and take a deep breath. It's sort of been my mantra lately. Because I can take on this next step; and when I do, I know I'll be able to handle the rest of the day, too.
And that's sorta all I have to say about that. Because I'm kind of busy taking things one day at a time right now. But I will add that the most comforting part of "one day at a time" is that it's a Biblical principle, too.
"So do not worry, saying 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Yes, and He will be there to handle it.
But lately, this phrase has become very comforting to me. When I'm stressed out, or starting to worry, or think "Holy Cow, how am I ever going to do this? And if I do it today, how in the world will I do it tomorrow?" -- then suddenly, "one day at a time" can make me stand back and take a deep breath. It's sort of been my mantra lately. Because I can take on this next step; and when I do, I know I'll be able to handle the rest of the day, too.
And that's sorta all I have to say about that. Because I'm kind of busy taking things one day at a time right now. But I will add that the most comforting part of "one day at a time" is that it's a Biblical principle, too.
"So do not worry, saying 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Yes, and He will be there to handle it.
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