When we decide to have children, we think of precious newborns, inquisitive toddlers, cuteness and innocence. What we don’t think of is an emerging human being with opinions and weaknesses, rebellion and pain.
Seeing one of my children or my granddaughter in pain can do me in. There are times I think it is unbearable. Even prayer and reading the Word of God can have little effect…or so I think…
Last week, there was a night I thought I was going to break, literally. A number of years ago, I was hospitalized (my choice) for depression and anxiety but have grown enough in knowledge and faith to be able to stand up to the demons that plague me.
My precious granddaughter has been going through a rough time and I became so upset that I felt like nothing could bring me strength. People are praying about the situation and there is comfort in that but I was about to crack.
For several months, I have been writing out my prayers so I went to my prayer spot and cried out my pain and the injustice of what is happening to my girl. I reminded God of His promises to those who love Him and trust Him. I laid it all on His broad, broad shoulders.
And I slept well for the first time in a very long time.
I don’t do pink. Pastel pink that is. I dig hot pink. Especially with lime green. Yup. Lime green makes a lot of things look good!
Himself talks to himself. All the time. Sometimes I listen and sometimes I don’t. It’s a gamble because sometimes he IS talking to me! It is “common” knowledge that females speak about 2/3 more than males but, in this house, even though I can talk your ear off, Himself wins. And he still tunes me out.
Housekeeping? Hmmm….let’s just say that my housekeeping, or lack thereof, has not made anyone sick…yet. I am a clean person but not a neat person. I know where things are and can direct the male characters in this household to what they are looking for in the refrigerator. That is what is really important, right?
We have no pets. We once had a cat named Reepicheep (named after the swashbuckling rat in The Chroniclse of Narnia – my idea, of course). She was our one and only pet that didn’t live in a bowl. When she died we were all crushed. The only thing I didn’t miss about her was the fur left behind all over the place. The Boy wants a dog so badly but I am standing firm. I don’t do poop, fur, barking and/or boarding. Grow up, get a good job, get your own place, and then you can get a dog. I will visit. Maybe.
Blogging is fun and not fun for me. When I started, I used Windows Live Spaces and “met” a lot of people. I wrote regularly, got responses, visited others and left comments. It is so different now. Thankfully, a handful of people from Spaces are still blogging.
Isabella just “wrote” two “loving letters” to Jesus. When I asked her what she wrote, she said, “Read it.” Uh, I told her it was her own special language and that she had to read it to me. Such beautiful words came out of her mouth! Oh, my precious, precious girl. She has a beautiful heart. She can be a bit bratty at times but the good times far outweigh them.
The Boy is out of work again. Anyone have a career or even just a job for a 23 year old high school graduate? I hear the navy calling his name…..
I am reading the book Iscariot by Tosca Lee. It is a novel about Judas Iscariot. The author had to do a lot of research and she weaves such and intricate and real story through the eyes of Judas. She shows Jesus as a healer and not afraid of disease and disfigurement. Well done, Ms. Lee.
Once again, I plan to participate in the A to Z challenge in April. It gives me the nudge I need to blog, blog, blog! Hopefully, I will be back before then….
Blessings to you and yours, g
Today, my boy hugged me. “…overwhelmed, “ he said, “So overwhelmed.” Actually, my boy needed his mom to hug him. And I did promising that there were more where they had come from.
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about how my son is a stranger to me; about his hidden life. He is 23 years old and there is so much I do not know about him. When did that happen? When did he become a stranger?
So, too, is my daughter. I probably know a little more about her but that is because she is 32 and a mother. We relate because we are both mothers. However, we are so different.
We think of having “babies.” We do not think about having defiant teenagers. We do not think of having 23 and 32 year old children. Are they any less our children as they grow older? At 56, I am still my mother’s child. The Girl and The Boy will always be my children.
There are probably a lot of things I don’t want to know about my children. I feel anxiety just contemplating their secrets. There are many things I hope my mom doesn’t know about the younger me. I wish it wasn’t so but it is.
Where am I going with this? I don’t know. Just feeling the need to try to work out what I am feeling. My children still need me. I need their help. Maybe there will be a symbiosis some day. ~heavy sigh~ Some day.
Team Isabella was in force for the Walk for Autism Speaks! We are different colors and shapes and ages. Boys, girls, women and men all out in force to support not only a little girl who stole our hearts from the moment she was born, but all people the autism spectrum has touched.
We have rarely needed the services of this wonderful organization but believe it worthy of our time and efforts. For more information, click here.
Towards the end of the 1.6 miles, Isabella had had enough. Her three uncles took turns carrying her 50+ pounds to the finish line. The noise and the crowds proved to be too much for her. She didn’t even say hello to her teacher or best friend but this was okay. It is what it is.
Afterwards, we went out for brunch continuing our celebration of our love our precious girl. I asked everyone if it was okay for me to share our story and our picture. They were all eager to be included.
Next, several of us went to a book signing for Chicken Boy (click on Chicken Boy). This is an adorable book explaining a boy’s autism in his own words. Very short and to the point.
After this, I quickly fell asleep and napped for three hours straight!
A good day, indeed.
Thank you for all your support! g
As expected, I didn’t get a lot of comments on my last post. That is fine with me. I have to be at peace with God.
Lately, I’ve been wondering where time is going. I look around and see a house that needs vacuuming and dusting and straightening out in a big way and wonder why it hasn’t gotten done; why I can’t get it done.
As I sit here typing, I realize I could be doing the quiet parts of these tasks (Himself goes to sleep quite early because of his early shift) but here I sit watching tv and keeping up with my “social networks.”
Where did I go wrong? Let’s go over the events of today:
6:00 Woke up before Isabella’s arrival at around 6:20. Made tea and read my Bible.
6:20 Made Bells’ breakfast, prepared her snack for school and got her washed up and ready for school.
7:50 School bus arrived and I blew kisses to my little love. Instead of going back to bed, which I usually do for a few hours, I got ready for the day.
9:15 Started driving to my Weight Watchers meeting and returned the call I missed fifteen minutes earlier from my mother-in-law. Her defibrillator had gone off (for the second time in three weeks) and she needed to go to the doctor. My nephew drove her there and I skipped my meeting and took over at the doctor’s office (this has become my part time job).
11:30’ish At the hospital to have the pacemaker/defibrillator “interrogated” and found that the doctors feel an increase in medication will hopefully do the trick.
12:’ish Got Mom home and made sure she ate and drank a cup of tea. All she wanted to do was sleep so I left for….
12:45’ish …Weight Watchers weigh in…yea! All is good. 47 down and three to go.
1:00 Met a friend to pray for missionaries who are in creative access countries (countries where missionaries are not allowed)
2:00 Nap time for me.
4:40 Emerged from nap and spent time with Isabella and did absolutely nothing else of significance.
I could have gotten things done after my nap but the energy wasn’t there! Even thinking of doing anything makes me cringe inside.
Maybe some day, God willing, I will be blessed with energy. What I am thankful for is the ability to be do what I CAN do.
When I had to go on disability years ago, I never thought it would be for so long. The original reasons for this are still active and have intertwined with fibromyalgia. The times I am needed the most seem to fall on my “good” days and for this I am grateful.
What’s the saying, “Man plans and God laughs?” Ha! So true. I am so very blessed.
Why not visit some fellow bloggers?
It’s that time of the year again. The time when a jolly, old elf dressed in red passes the space/time continuum to visit all little girls and boys around the world leaving them gifts their little hearts have been yearning for.
This time of year is supposed to be a celebration of God becoming man so that we might never be able to say to God, “You just don’t understand!” He became human so that He would become a sacrifice so that we might live with Him forever, sins forgiven.
Every time I see a Santa or a Simpson decoration on a lawn it pierces my heart. When I asked my precious granddaughter what Christmas is and she said it is a time for presents; when I told her it is Jesus’ birthday and she was horrified and said, “No!” my soul was screaming out at the lies our children are told!
I will never go against parents’ wishes and tell a child that there is no Santa Claus. Indeed, if they have Santa as a “by the way” and have a Christ-centered message, fine. However, I could not tell my children there is a Santa. I explained about Nicholas and his generosity. My daughter, whose father was big into Santa, tried to get me to believe. My husband wanted to do Santa but we didn’t and my son says he never missed it. Actually, when he was around eleven, a friend of his was very angry that his mother had lied to him by teaching him Santa is real!
After discussing Christmas with my friends, I find that we agree that we would all have a wonderful time with the season if gifts were not involved. I can not afford to buy anything right now. Himself is willing to go into debt to make sure our children have something under the tree and we will get something for Isabella. Why do we have to have this pressure?
Now that I have spouted my Christmas phooey, may I now wish for you that the wonder, beauty and sacrifice of Christmas will be the center of your celebration.
Blessings from my home to yours, g