Mama said, part 5

“TV rots your brain.”

I don’t actually recall my mom saying this. But I know that she believed that spending too much time parked in front of the television was not healthy or productive. We had a TV set in the living room; we just weren’t allowed to watch more than one hour of TV each day, except on Friday nights and Saturday mornings. Each Friday night, my stepdad handcrafted homemade pizza for us, and sometimes doughnuts, and we’d all pile into the living room to watch T.G.I.F. on ABC.

Growing up, we didn’t have many battery-operated toys, either. She encouraged us to use our imaginations and to entertain ourselves with Barbies, skates, and forts made with old sheets and dining room chairs. We never owned any video-gaming equipment, even though all our friends owned a Nintendo gaming system. When my stepsister Sarah brought a Nintendo set home with her one Christmas, we thought it was the best thing since the jambox. However, just like the TV, Mom limited the time we spent playing Nintendo, too.

Instead of being mesmerized by battery-powered toys and electronic or digital media, we spent most of our time playing with each other (which sometimes resulted in fighting with each other), reading books, writing stories, inventing intricate games in the backyard, cuddling our pets, and prancing around in my mom’s old high school prom dresses and discarded heels. Since most of our time was spent face-to-face, we learned how to interact. We learned how to argue. We learned how to resolve fights. We learned how to persuade each other to give up the cuter Barbie in exchange for two ugly ones. We got plenty of exercise, and in spite of our initial stage of whining each time we were sent outside to play, we all gained an appreciation of the outdoors and found joy in nature.

Whether my mom intended to teach us any of these lessons, or to buck up against technology, or to foster our social and intellectual growth, I’m not sure. She might have just wanted some peace and quiet in a house full of five girls. But I have a feeling she knew that we’d grow up to be healthier, more productive, and more creative adults someday if we didn’t let TV rot our brains.

Of course, she was right .

 

Tags: ABC, Barbie, Barbies, childhood, grateful, gratitude, growing up, lessons learned, mama, mama said, media, mom, Nintendo, raising children, sisters, technology, television, TGIF, TV, video games

Best year ever

Tomorrow is my 33rd birthday. It’s not as significant as turning 16, 21, or 30, at least not in the eyes of the average American, but this is a huge year for me, maybe my best year ever.

Many of you read and commented on my 2012 bucket list. Amazingly, it seems that I might just accomplish every item on the list this year. When I wrote the list, I hoped to cross off as many of those items as possible, but realistically, I didn’t expect to accomplish everything. Turns out, I have exceeded my own expectations.

Well, I guess I haven’t.

But God has.

I have grown to believe that God always goes ahead and plans in love. Notice that I said that I’ve grown to believe this; I have spent the majority of my life seriously doubting, questioning, or tentatively hoping this were true. I’ve discovered that not only does God go before me and plan in love, but He also loves me more than I will ever comprehend. He answers my prayers in ways I find baffling and miraculous. And He brings clarity and light to the most confounded and darkest of times.

“Behold, I am making everything new.” –Revelations 21:5

He wasn’t joking. He’s doing this in my very life.

I will have completed all but two courses toward my Master’s degree by December. I’ve been getting more involved as a volunteer for the Ozark Foothills Literacy Project. My Daily Dose of Gratitude blog has given me an outlet to express my gratitude and has motivated me to maintain a thankful attitude despite shifting moods and changing circumstances. I’ve managed to keep walking and enjoying nature around me even though I’ve been battling multiple pregnancy symptoms that encourage me to park my butt on the couch.

And–I know you guys will be just as excited for me as I am for myself–I may even get to make my spinny truck dream come true this year! We’re hoping to add on to the house soon, and I am determined to pull the lever to release the concrete .

Best of all, James and I got married April 14th, and we are expecting our brand new spanking new baby in November 2012.

The latter item was not on the list for 2012.

But the mysterious and wonderful thing about God is that He goes ahead and plans in love. He knows exactly what I need when I need it and ensures that I have it.

He really has made everything new for me–and some things from scratch, too .

Tags: 2012, 2012 bucket list, best year ever, Bible, bucket list, daily dose of gratitude, dreams, expectations, God, gratitude, marriage, miracles, plans, pregnancy, Revelations 21:5

Tears as prayers

Last night, I dreamed about a friend of mine. This is the same friend who shared his story of childhood sexual abuse with me, and in turn, with all of you a few months ago. This friend has been on my mind a lot lately. When I think of him, I pray for him, and I have to fight the images that flash through my mind of him as a child, being molested by a grown man, having no power to escape.

Those of you who read my blog regularly know that a few months ago, I shared my own story of being raped along with my friend’s story of being sexually abused. There’s a sad, ironic connection between the two tragedies that I can’t share with any of you. Suffice to say that this connection is one of the things that plagues me.

After going through months of counseling–followed by years of self-medicating through drugs, alcohol, relationships, and self-pity–I finally found my way to forgiveness. After taking responsibility for my own choices in the aftermath of being raped–namely the decision to reject God and His guidance for years–I discovered spiritual freedom in forgiving the man who raped me. I no longer feel plagued by haunting thoughts, memories, or guilty feelings.

But for some reason, I’m having the hardest time forgiving the man who abused my friend.

Perhaps it’s because my friend was a small child when he was abused, and I was much older when I was raped.

Maybe it’s because I care deeply about my friend and hate the impact the abuse has had on his entire life, including our friendship.

Or it could just be that for some reason, it’s easier to forgive someone for hurting me than it is for me to forgive someone for hurting someone I love. There’s a fierce and angry loyalty that wells up in me when I think of anyone I love being harmed.

And a helplessness.

And that’s the real kicker. Maybe in some way, I blame myself every time someone I love is harmed, and I am unable to prevent it or remove the scars scraped into their souls.

Someday, the knowledge that God has all of this mysteriously in His capable hands is going to move from my head to my heart. Until then, my tears are my prayers.

Tags: abuse, childhood sexual abuse, friendship, God, love, loyalty, memories, prayers, PTSD, rape, tears, trauma

Keeping it simple

Reblogged from Daily dose of gratitude:

I have not read The Hunger Games, and I don’t intend to see the movie, either.

I don’t clip coupons, hunt for them online, or keep up with which business is offering freebies.

I don’t make my own laundry detergent, and  would not concern myself with properly sewing on a button unless my life depended on it.

I don’t have a Pinterest or Twitter account.

Read more… 336 more words

For all of my friends who've begged me to go to Zumba, get a Pinterest account, or hunt for good deals online, this one's for you :).

Getting the morning back

Reblogged from Daily dose of gratitude:

Yesterday I had a relentless migraine that materialized before I ever got out of bed. My goal was to complete my last research paper for graduate school by bedtime yesterday; I finished six of eight pages, but I decided I’d be better off finishing it minus the nausea, pain, and throbbing which overwhelmed me. I went to bed last night after taking what little medication I’m allowed to take while pregnant and hoped–rather, prayed–for the best.

Read more… 508 more words

It may seem small to some, but the difference in how I feel this morning as compared to how I've been feeling most mornings lately is HUGE! Just had to share.

Spontaneous love

Many times in my life, tears of joy have streamed down my face uncontrollably.

Once, when I was watching Elizabeth, my stepdaughter, earn her yellow belt in Taekwondo, I found myself crying while watching other kids compete. The children grinned contagiously, pulling the joy out of every parent in the room. Mind you, I wasn’t watching Elizabeth compete yet; I was watching children I didn’t even know.

So why was I crying?

I can only suggest that sometimes the spontaneous love of God wells up in me, and it’s impossible to keep it in.

The same thing happened to me once while listening to a young orphan in China play his small violin for a group of visitors. We had just heard the story of how he lost his parents and came to live in the orphanage. He sat silently during the story, one tear sliding slowly down his cheek. Then he quietly picked up his instrument and soothed himself with it. He looked at me, and without warning, a flood of tears rushed down my face. It might sound ridiculous, but I felt as if I could literally feel his pain.

And the spontaneous love of God came pouring out of me.

Recently I was lying in bed, attempting to stave off nausea caused by pregnancy. As James read the book of Hebrews to me, and he noted the extravagant love of God sacrificed for the world, I felt my heart attempt to leap out of my chest and yelp for joy.

Maybe I’m an exception. Maybe most people never experience these kinds of moments.

What a terrible shame. Ever since I opened my heart to God and asked Christ to flood me with the only real Peace that exists, His love has been spilling over into everything in my life.

In My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers (in his devotion for April 30th entitled ‘The Spontaneity of Love’) asserts that,

“The evidence of our love for Him is the absolute spontaneity of our love. It comes naturally. In looking back, we cannot tell why we did certain things. We did them according to the spontaneous nature of His love in us. The life of God manifests itself in this spontaneous way because the springs of love are in the Holy Ghost (Romans 5:5).”

I’m forever grateful for His love and never plan on stopping up the springs that spill out of me from time to time. Unbridled love is nothing to be ashamed of.

Tags: Bible, China, God, gratitude, joy, love, My utmost for his highest, orphan, orphanage, Oswald Chambers, parenting, spontaneous, spontaneous love, Taekwondo, tears, tears of joy

Wading through the grey

Lately, it seems like I’ve encountered multiple situations which have not presented me with an opportunity that is clearly black or white; instead, there seems to be an excess of grey matter floating around me.

In light of my pregnancy, I recently applied for government healthcare since I only work part-time and attend graduate school full-time. I felt sure I would qualify. However, I was denied Medicaid coverage because our assets exceed the limit. Basically, James owns his own truck, and it’s paid for. If we sold the truck, we would qualify. If he traded the truck in on a brand spanking new one which we could certainly not afford, we’d qualify. Does this make any sense to me? Absolutely not. Instead of rewarding American citizens for working hard to live below their means and pay debts down, the system seems to do the opposite. As a tax-paying, law-abiding citizen, I felt pretty frustrated when I was denied Medicaid.

Several people suggested that I appeal or look into loopholes. I did double-check the government’s decision, but everything I was told by other government employees and the things I learned in doing the research suggested that the decision was, in fact, in line with Medicaid policies.

At that point, many people I know suggested that we find some shady means of obtaining coverage. After all, wasn’t it my right to get my pregnancy paid for since I’d worked so hard and contributed so much over the years? While I saw the rationale behind this argument, the decision I was faced with was an easy one. I would accept the decision of the government and move on to find other financial means to pay for the pregnancy and delivery.

This was not a grey decision for me–it was black or white. It was easy. I used to be able to convince myself that it was okay to gloss things over a bit or hide little details in order to live with my marred conscience. I am just not capable of doing this anymore. And I’m grateful–the more I open my spirit to God and take actions to line myself up with Him, the more difficult it becomes to do the opposite without feeling incredibly guilty.

Other decisions aren’t so easy, though. Take my current work situation, for example. I have a job I absolutely love as a part-time advisor at a two-year college. My commute is less than 20 minutes. I work with great people, and I feel that I make a difference in the lives of the students I serve. The part-time nature provides me with lots of flexibility and the opportunity to focus on graduate school as well.

When I learned about my pregnancy, though, it was a black or white decision for me. I knew I would want to stay at home for as long as possible with my new baby.

What wasn’t so black or white was the choice to either disclose this decision to my boss now or wait until later. I weighed the pros and cons. I knew that it would be emotionally easier for me to disclose the decision because then I wouldn’t have to be vague about my future plans with my co-workers, many of whom I consider friends. At the same time, I have been in similar situations in the past, and disclosing future plans too soon to some employers is a kiss of early dismissal. I’ve never been fired, but sometimes the last two weeks of my employment at different companies was cut short to save the company money. I knew that if I decided to disclose my decision to stay home after having my baby, I’d run the risk of a similar outcome.

I decided that I would have a clearer conscience if I disclosed my decision now. So I did. I don’t regret it. I can sleep more soundly knowing that I have been an open book about what lies ahead. I just have to trust God with the outcome, and I have to believe that whatever the outcome is, God has me right in His hands, just as He always has.

I’m grateful that when I’m in the grey, I don’t have to stay there permanently. I just have to head toward the Light, and things become much less foggy.

Tags: baby, black and white, black or white, choices, decision-making, employment, fog, God, government healthcare, greyf, light, Medicaid, pregnancy, pros and cons, stay-at-home mom, taxes, White River, work

For the one

Reblogged from Daily dose of gratitude:

• 

I’m grateful for the one I love and for the best day of my life thus far.

Just wanted to share my joy with all of you.

Mama said, part four

My mom wasn’t very tolerant of  me and my sisters treating each other poorly. We never had the chance to get into big fights because if my mom heard one whisper of pinching, biting, pulling hair, name calling, or dirty looks going on, she’d whip us into shape pretty quickly.

One of my least favorite consequences for this type of behavior was to write sentences. Yes, I love to write, but I love to write what I WANT to write. Writing sentences was awful. She’d sit us down at the table with a pencil and notebook and order us to write, “I love my sister, and I will treat her with respect,” 500 times. Without taking a break. The monotony was awful, but the actual content of the sentence was worse. Who wants to write about love and respect 500 times after getting into an epic battle over skates or Barbies with one of your arch enemies (AKA sisters)? Not me. But I did it anyway because my mom was in charge. That was not up for debate.

In retrospect, I’m grateful for her diligence in emphasizing the value of loving family members unconditionally. While every child makes her own choices once she reaches a certain age, I did hold on to many of the things my mom instilled in me. I feel fiercely defensive of my family members, whether I agree with their personal choices and lifestyles or not. I pray for them continually. I truly believe there are no cuter munchkins on the face of the planet than my nieces and nephews. I look forward to the times when our family is together and savor memories of shared laughter, conversation, and meals.

Even though I logged many a mention of “hating my mom!” in my middle school diary, I now love her for the same things that led me to despise her then. Something must have clicked in me after writing all those sentences.

 

Tags: childhood, children, discipline, family, family values, gratitude, love, mama, mama said, mom, respect, sisters

Pregnant pleas

I write this as I attempt to eat something which will not induce vomiting.

In case you didn’t read my latest blog post, I’m pregnant.

I’m excited about being a mom.  I was a stepmom for six years and loved it, and I still love my Lizard to death. I’ve worked with kids of all ages and have tons of kids in my extended family. I’m not worried about enjoying being a mom or concerned with some of the things people with little “kid exposure” might worry about.

But I’m going to be honest. So far, being  pregnant is not fun. It’s quite miserable, actually.

I expected it to be, based on what I’d watched my sisters and friends endure, but at the same time, I don’t hear many people giving honest assessments of the down sides to pregnancy. I believe our society encourages us to pretend we’re happier than we’ve ever been before–and quite honestly, I think we keep that cycle going ourselves. I’m not sure why we feel it necessary to sugarcoat the sour side of life. Anyone who knows me knows that I attempt to see the bright side, focus on the positive, and find things to be grateful for in the worst of circumstances. But pretending to be something I’m not is not who I am, and it never will be. While I am ecstatic that James and I are going to be parents together, I’m not ecstatic that I have to go through pregnancy and delivery in order to get to that end result.

I don’t want any pictures taken of my bare stomach. I  know lots of people do it, and that’s fine for them, but it’s not for me. For me, it’s just a little odd. Period.

I appreciate people taking an interest in our lives and in our baby, but I am growing weary of unsolicited advice (one of my top five pet peeves, in case you didn’t already know .

I don’t feel well. I know pregnancy’s different for everyone, and that this stage may pass, but I feel nauseous about 90% of the time. I’m battling migraines without the few medicines that have ever worked in treating them.

So, friends and family (or anyone out there reading this who might someday encounter a pregnant woman), I implore you to do the following.

a) Let me sleep when I can.

b) Please don’t talk about gross things around me. I normally love gross things. Not right now.

c) Understand that I’m not trying to shirk relationships or responsibilities, but right now I am doing well to function halfway normally, and I have very little energy left for anything else.

d) Practice what I consider to be some of the best advice I’ve ever heard: it’s not your business if it’s past the tip of your nose. Keep this in mind when asking questions and doling out advice.

e) Don’t try to force me to love being pregnant. It’s really and truly just not a delightful experience for everybody.

So far, I’ve figured out that pregnancy is a growing process. A very awkward, painful one. Many times in my life, the process isn’t pleasant, but the outcome exceeds my expectations. I believe that’s how this will be–and I’m looking forward to it.

Tags: baby, childbirth, family, friends, honesty, pregnancy, pregnancy photos, pregnant, unsolicited advice