Thanks everyone for your kind words and prayers after my last post. The fog of sadness lifted the next morning, and things have been mostly good since. It's so strange how sadness can dominate a day or week, and then lift almost as suddenly as it came on. I suppose there are underlying reasons, but still it is a little unreasonable, I think...

I have been meaning to post some new pictures of Samuel, who is now definitely our chubbiest baby so far. He can stand by himself now, and even get to that position from sitting. So he'll stand up in the middle of a room and stay there for a while - but without taking any steps yet. He still drops back down to his knees to crawl.

I took him outside to play in the yard yesterday, and he had so much fun. He stood and clapped while his brothers swung on the glider together. He tried to crawl up the slide and settled for sitting delightedly on the end of it for a while. He put a big, dirty rock in his mouth and smiled and spit it out when I asked him what he had. So, I will try to get some pictures of his antics and post them soon.

Again, thanks for reading and praying, friends...knowing you are out there helps keep me going on hard days. You are the Church as I believe Christ intended it. Being one in Him forever with you -and getting to experience some of that mutual love and grace now - is a great privilege.

The sorrow that hangs over me today is like a thick, dark cloak.
I wrap it around my shoulders
and feel its weight drape around my body.
It makes me feel safe, in a way...
yet oppressed,
unable to move freely.
There is no place to cast it off.
No one to lift it off my shoulders and put it safely away,
to be brought out again at a time
when I can support its weight more easily...
When I can discern why its threads came to be so tightly woven.

I am weary and tired,
and my soul longs for rest.
But today I can only wait...
Maybe tomorrow, joy will come
and wash away this senseless sorrow.

Is there any stay-at-home Mom who has not at least once, if not many times, thought, "I don't want this job anymore!"?

Really, I just wanted to start the day with a shower. I didn't get to shower yesterday morning either. I'd love to get up before my kids to exercise, shower, read and pray, but I've been so exhausted lately that I am squeezing in every spare second of sleep I can get. I know we are supposed to get 8 hours a night, but I don't understand why 7 or 7.5 won't at least get me by. It seems grossly unfair. I've been consuming enough caffeine every day to make me jittery, but still not quite awake - however that works. I would just go to bed at the same time as the kids, but I get a second wind around 8 pm, probably triggered by the excitement of having the kids in bed, a quiet house, and time alone with Heath. Or maybe all the caffeine builds up and finally kicks in at that hour.

Another troubling thing this week... Samuel has recently stopped adoring me. It is strange and unnerving. All he wants is Daddy. He is the first of our three children to have actually said "Mama" around the same time as "Dada," and he has been very attached to me almost from day one. But now, he has not said Mama for at least two weeks, and whenever I try to get him to say it, he says, forcefully, "Da-da!" I am apparently a piece of furniture in the backdrop of his world - Daddy is the real joy maker.

I hesitate to post thoughts like these, because I don't want to complain. I know my position in life is really good overall, and I don't want to seem unappreciative of that. But there are some really hard things, too, just like there are for everyone I guess. I have sometimes thought I should just kill my blog because it is mostly a venue for either 1) complaining about my position in life or 2) writing about topics that I am pondering, most of which I now deem too controversial to put out there for fear that I will say something that I later deem heretical and/or cause bad feelings or confusion among those I love. I suppose blogging also provides an opportunity to post pictures, developmental updates, and funny stories about the kids for those who don't see them very often... so that is something.

One other thing I have been wrestling with lately is reworking our grocery/household items budget. Our bank offered a new tool to track our spending across categories, and after 6 months we can see what we have spent, consistently, on groceries each month. About 50% over our budgeted amount, but consistent from month to month. So apparently we were quite out of touch with what we actually spend in that category. (I love the "mortgage" category - right on budget, 6 months in a row!) I don't WANT to spend as much as we do - I want to spend the actual budgeted amount. But I also want to continue to enjoy the small luxuries we have been indulging in. So I am wrestling with, just how much is REASONABLE to spend for a family of 5 on grocery and household items? We lump together our food, paper products, toiletries, cleaning products, etc. all in one category. It is basically any of the usual, weekly things we buy at Dillons/Walmart/Target. How much do you spend? If you're willing to share, it really might help me out! I know ours is a bit higher right now because of diapers and formula, but that doesn't account for all the excess.

Well, it is Samuel's naptime, Thank God. Maybe I'll go take that long, warm shower I've been craving. If you see me later today with greasy hair, you'll know something else came up. :-)

Nattyman beat me to it. See our pictures of Johanna and Samuel on his blog! Plus some great ones of our older boys, too.

Yesterday morning, Ethan crawled in bed with us. As we snuggled and tried to continue sleeping, he was his normal chirpy self.

We encouraged him to be quiet, and he said, "Guys, let's play Quiet Dogs!"

My sleepy brain cleared away the cobwebs... "You mean Hush Puppies, Ethan?"

"Yeah!"

Coming soon... pictures of this weekend in GC with adorable Johanna Faith!

hate getting estimates

One bad thing about living in a bigger city.... getting estimates to have work done. In GC, there were only a few choices, and they were usually quite competitive with each other. Or, you knew by reputation who overcharged. Or, you knew one or more of the service providers personally so you chose them to do the work. Or, you could have three service providers give you estimates, and you knew you'd gotten the best price because there were only three providers total. In any case, it was less complicated.

We have a plumbing leak in the basement, so we called the company we'd used before. But, since the situation is somewhat complicated (pipe coming into the cement wall from underground and the leak possibly coming from buried pipe in the front yard), the potential charge is quite large (either $650 or $1100 depending on which option from this plumber). So, of course, we need to get multiple opinions and estimates. But whenever I have someone come out to the house to tell me how much the work would cost, I then feel personally obligated to them. I hate wasting their time to give me an estimate, and then not using their services. Last year, when we got estimates for a repair/rebuild of our deck, we had one person who kept calling and calling and calling... Until I finally had to literally tell him not to call me again. If we decided we wanted to do something, we would call him.

However, this time I must shop around, so I turn to the yellow pages, and...There are 18 pages of plumbers, including the ads! How does one choose three or more to give estimates from this list?!? Well, my method was to read the ads and call those who mentioned the service we needed or gave some other piece of information about their business that made them stand out. I'm sure that's a horrible method, but I was overwhelmed.

I've called eight different places now, and we'll have four on-site estimates and three over-the-phone "ballpark" estimates when we are done. Somehow I'm still not sure I've done the right things.

Makes me want to put up with the damp cement and the extra $10 on my water bill for a few more months....

Jacob took my order and made me lunch. I had a choice of french fries or "teeter-totters" (tater tots) for my appetizer.

"Ethan, are you excited about Easter?"

"Yeah!!!"

Here are a couple of pictures of each of my other boys to compare to Samuel's 9 month old pictures. Jacob is 9.5 months in the pictures below, and Ethan is 10 months in the first and 12 months in the second (but he was born early so the 10 month old picture really corresponds to 9 months old).

There are similarities between each of my boys, but each is also so unique. I love them each so much in their uniqueness and in their similarities!

JACOB


ETHAN



And here's one of Samuel's 9 month pictures for comparison:

GPS units are one of those things that initially I didn't see the need for. Other items in this category are DVD players, ipods, and laptop computers. Let's just say I'm not a big visionary when it comes to technology. Thankfully, my dear husband has patiently explained the benefits of each of these devices to me until I was willing to try them and finally see their benefits for myself.

The GPS that was Heath's Christmas present from his parents is the newest technology I am discovering for myself. Of course, as with the technological gadgets that have preceded it, I am quickly becoming convinced of it's life-altering potential, and soon I won't know how I lived without it.

Just now, as I was coming back from Starbucks, I had to turn right instead of left because of church traffic. This was going to take me a mile out of my way driving home. I turned on the GPS and it immediately calculated a shortcut through the twisty roads of the residential area between Starbucks and my home. I felt so savvy as I zipped smoothly and confidently through the area that I normally don't enter because of its ability to completely undo my sense of direction. I emerged with amazement from the maze of streets with my house in sight just across the road. Very cool. I have a feeling Heath and I will now be vying for the passenger's seat instead of the driver's seat whenever we travel.

A post and comments on Matches' blog got me to thinking about the issue of a normal versus a "disordered" mind and how we define that and address that in our culture. Matches and Freestyle both mentioned that they think the way we define and treat mental disorders in our society may not be correct - that maybe what we believe to be the causes and best treatment for our depression are not the right ones. Now I have to decide just how brutally honest I want to be in discussing this as it relates to me. I mentioned in my comments there how I have been angry at times at my inborn tendencies in these areas, and how it has caused me a lot of heartbreak through the years.

The incidents I think of the most happened during and after college. One boy recognized it the very first time I froze up on him - Really I launched into a panic attack because I didn't know how to deal with the way he was treating me. I really, really didn't like it but also didn't want to drive him away, and was having sort of an inner crisis about it. To him it must have appeared that I was just responding to him really strangely. At any rate, I was no longer easy-going, and he essentially ended it after that, recognizing it had become too complicated. The second relationship in which my craziness affected things lasted longer and exposed more of its crippling affects. Again, I wasn't happy with how things stood between the boy and I (i.e. very undefined), but I couldn't force him to change things. I would try to be cool about it, but would eventually crack and the crazy would show through. He said he loved me, and I guess that is why he kept trying to make our relationship work, confusing as it was (can you really tell people you are just friends if you end up making out all the time? not my proudest moments). I do remember him saying, "I just can't keep doing this!" during one of our fights precipitated by what I now refer to as my craziness. But in the end, it was me - through God's work in me, finally convincing me I could live without this boy or any boy's affection - who finally completely broke off contact with him.

For several months, then, for the first time in my life, I was without any relationship that was close enough to draw out that panicy, disagreeable part of me. Others remarked on the new peace and joy they saw in my life. I felt secure and settled and content. My relationship with God was primary and rich and unthreatened.

After several months of living this way, God brought Heath into my life. We both were at this high point in our relationship with God, and even though we felt a strong draw to each other, and even felt that it was God who was drawing us together, neither of us wanted our relationship with each other to in any way threaten the peace with God we had come to know. And for a while, our new relationship was really an extension of the work God was doing in each of our lives. But eventually my craziness started to show there as well.

I know it was after we had already spoken for each other - we both knew we wanted to marry each other - that the crazy started to rear it's ugly head. Since we were attending Manhattan Bridal - I mean Bible College (okay now it is actually Manhattan Christian College, but you get the point), it was not unusual for us to be considering getting married even though we were only 19 and 20. And many engagements happen at MCC at the beginning of the fall semester, with a wedding planned for the next summer. So when Heath had extra money left over from his financial aid in the fall when we had been dating for about 6 months and talking about our future together for probably 5 of those months, I started to think .... And that is my downfall. Because of course, he bought an amp with the extra money. I mean, come on, you are a 19 year old guy in a band, what would you do with the extra money? I still trusted God for my future, and I knew I could be happy without a boy for the rest of my life, but it seemed so clear to me that God had brought this particular boy and I together and wanted us together, so why couldn't said boy just make it official? My emotions didn't like the lack of security in the relationship.

Well, we did get married about a year and half after we started dating - we got engaged the spring after the amp was bought. But we had many emotional arguments during that year and during the first few years of our marriage. It was really, really difficult at the time. Now, we rarely fight. When we do, I still get angry at my "craziness" and marvel that Heath married me even though he knew about it. People are surprised when they hear Heath and I used to fight because I guess we both seem pretty laid back now. But as I said, I don't do well with lack of definition or control. I kind of panic, and I hate the feeling of tension and panic so much that I sometimes end up lashing out. If the situation lasts long enough, I may become perpetually angry and irritable, which is particularly bad.

I mentioned in my comments on Matches blog that I have also lost girlfriends over this. The most obvious example I can think of is when one evening a couple we were friends with was over at our house and I got upset about something. I don't even remember what it was about, and I don't even remember who I was upset with. I'm fairly certain I wasn't upset with her - I was probably upset with Heath for something and she witnessed an outburst. However it happened, what I remember the most was her coming over to talk to me the next day and essentially telling me she didn't think she could be friends with someone who acted that way. I was absolutely stunned. I wanted to say, "I'm sorry?" only with a question mark at the end because yes, I was sorry to have acted that way, but also bewildered that she could actually think that was reasonable to decide not to be friends with someone on that basis. Anyway, somehow we ended up remaining friends, and eventually she started fighting with her husband continually until she finally left him. Which is a sad, sad story and I am not trying to make light of it at all, only pointing out that maybe she was scared of my craziness because she was afraid it would draw out her own latent craziness and feared it would be her destruction.

Ok, so. I have taken medicines off and on over the years to control these overwhelming surges of emotion I feel which sometimes end in unbearable tension or panic and crazy, unpredictable behavior. Certain antidepressants work fairly well to control anxiety and even out moods, though not without side effects (sleepiness and weight gain are the most troubling to me). I have tried to learn better strategies to rid myself of tension, to express emotion or opinion in non-confrontational, non-angry ways, and these are certainly good things to do. Of course, as a believer in Christ, I want to follow his instruction to cast all my cares on Him, and I also practice this. But the difficulty I have that I think others might not deal with is that the overwhelming emotions I feel in these situations do not obey my logic. They seem to rise and fall independent of what I really know to be true. Perhaps in previous ages there were other ways of dealing with emotional problems of this sort - for instance, I can usually get rid of an illogical panic attack by taking a nap and "rebooting" my brain that way. But that is so rarely possible. Venting to an understanding friend can also help. But that is also rarely possible, or at least rarely available at the moment it is needed. Journaling is very helpful, but also difficult in the midst of daily life. Even going into the other room for a few minutes to calm down can help, but people (especially young children) have a tendency to follow you and not feel comfortable with you walking out in the middle of a (particularly tense) conversation. So instead of trying to cope with the difficulties my inborn disposition has handed me in natural, communal ways, I take a couple of pills every day to keep me a little more even than I otherwise would be (and lately, not nearly as even as I'd like to be...). Maybe I am medicating something that is not actually a "disorder." But it's what I do to survive for now.

These are my thoughts and experiences with the challenges I have faced that stem from being me. I'm certainly not saying I have the right answers; I'm just describing where I am right now. So feel free to comment and share your own experience or opinions on the matter.

Some of you might have heard of the recent child neglect case in California, which is making the news as rendering home schooling illegal in that state. It actually does not make teaching your own child illegal in California, since it is still perfectly legal to teach your own child in a full-time private day school (which does not require teaching credentials) or as a credentialed tutor. Many California parents teach their own children in full-time private day schools which are run out of their homes, have a very small class size, and remarkably, do not charge tuition. :-)

Anyway. Reading the court's opinion and the commentary surrounding this case has me all riled up. What are we, socialists here? This is some scary language, people! The court's opinion makes reference to the following quotes: "A primary purpose of the educational system is to train school children in good citizenship, patriotism and loyalty to the state and the nation as a means of protecting the public welfare... [T]eachers shall be of good moral character and patriotic disposition..."

Well, I'm not sure I would stand up to their test of having a "patriotic disposition." Would you? Would anyone I know? It's a pretty subjective criteria, really. Clearly, the assumed purpose of maintaining public schools and requiring mandatory schooling for our children has morphed through the years.

The first mandatory education laws were largely to ensure that children would not be denied the opportunity to learn because of interference from their employment. Yes, employment - as in child labor, in dangerous mines and stuffy factories. Another drive behind the initial mandatory education laws was the concern to assimilate immigrants. To make them more "patriotic." To make them more Anglo and more Protestant. (Thus the network of Catholic schools that arose and fought for their right to educate children of Catholic families in a way that honored their faith. We really have them to thank for the privilege of home schooling, today.) This doesn't sound too kosher today, but that's the way it was. I don't think our modern society with its values would put up with such a rationale for mandatory education, but it was a popular concern then. And then, of course, there were the concerns that still drive mandatory education today - that all children are given the opportunity to learn the things they need to know to function in our society.

Obviously, laws that require a child be given the opportunity to learn during their formative years are necessary and profitable for our society, and furthermore, they are simply the right thing to do to protect children who can not control how a parent might or might not provide for their education otherwise. However, mandating that a child must be present for a third of the waking hours of their childhood in a government supervised school while they are indoctrinated, I mean, educated in a government sponsored curriculum is not necessary to ensure this outcome!

We currently teach our Kindergartner and Preschooler at home. (What I mean to say is, my children attend a private school that operates out of my home, has no dress code, does not charge tuition, and has non-credentialed instructors.) Now, I may not be doing this is 5 years, and I may not even be doing this in 6 months. But I am confident that if we decided as a family that this was the best option for our children's education until they are ready for college, that we would in no way be neglecting them, and certainly not in any way that would justify government intervention. If I was denying my children the opportunity to learn the skills and knowledge they would gain in school, skills and knowledge that equip them to function as adults (and yes, even as good citizens) in our society, then it would warrant government intervention in the same way as if I was not providing the food or shelter or supervision that are necessary to ensure good physical health until they can be responsible for themselves. Intervening in these situations falls under the State's authority and mandate to protect its citizens from each other (even a child from his parent). But the State oversteps its bounds when it tells me I must hand over my child, turn over my sacred trust of supervising his upbringing, on their terms - which at present, means a third of his waking hours from age 6-18. I will insure that he gains the knowledge he needs to survive in our world, and much more in fact (and I have no objection to mandatory testing and record keeping to prove a child is indeed progressing and gaining the knowledge and skills required); but my right to liberty demands that I am not required to submit my child to whatever schedule or curriculum the State is selling at that particular moment in time. If I decide that what the State is offering in terms of education at a particular time is the best thing for my children at that particular time in their lives, then great, that works out nicely for all of us. But if not... they can't make me turn over my children!

I don't think I really understood the "militant" home schoolers until today, as I was reading the California court's opinion and the commentary in the news. I have never felt threatened by what was being taught in the public schools - I simply didn't look to it as my only option. But when someone starts to say that I must send my child there, and they start talking about a curriculum that is going to ensure good citizens who are loyal to the state, it gives me an eerie feeling. I thought things like that only happened in Marxist states. Because even if I am not particularly threatened by what the government thinks the curriculum should include today (or only mildly so), what might it include 20 or 50 years down the line, when my grandchildren or great-grandchildren are being force-fed it? Personally, I think my desire to preserve an America that allows parents to decide how their children will receive the education our society demands is downright patriotic. So maybe I do qualify to teach them myself after all.

Samuel is 9 months old today. He is doing so many things - crawling, pulling up, cruising, saying Dada and Mama, eating finger foods, climbing the stairs (much to our alarm), and playing with his brothers. He is a joy.

date night update

I did manage to leave the house and have a very nice time on our date, despite my obsessive tendencies. I did not get everything I could have finished, but alas, none of the unusual scenarios I imagined happened. I know logically that I don't need to do that much preparation, but for some reason on the day we are scheduled to have a babysitter, I get sucked into a whirlwind of tension fueled by obsession and self-deprecation.

date night!

Tonight, Heath and I get to go on a date, by ourselves. This does not happen often since we moved away from family. Not only that, but we get to go to U23D, which we have been looking forward to ever since we heard about it. Ever since I bought the tickets yesterday morning and scheduled a babysitter, I have been really excited. That is, until this morning, when the reality of getting things ready for a babysitter hit me full force.

Here is the problem with getting ready for a babysitter to come over to our house. You don't have to just prepare for what you expect to happen - i.e., something ready or available for dinner, a bottle for the baby in the fridge, books and PJs ready for bedtimes, and phone numbers written down. You have to prepare for all the things that could possibly happen that the babysitter could possibly have to deal with. What if one of the kids wets their beds before we get home? Are there clean sheets and blankets washed, and are they somewhere they can readily be found? Are there extra sets of PJs and clothes available in case they are needed? If she pulls open their dresser drawers will she find these clothes readily, or will she find a jumbled mess of unmatched socks, underwear, a few odd pieces of clothing and spare toy parts thrown in for good measure? If the kids ask for chocolate milk, will she open the fridge and see a sippy cup half-full of chocolate milk and think it is from earlier today, when it was actually abandoned there a week or two ago? If the kids ask for a snack before bed, will she find crackers and granola bars in the cabinet, or just a few cans of beans and a bag of flour?

So rather than tidying up and getting a few things prepared, I start feeling like I have to clean and organize EVERYTHING. I need to clean out the fridge so the spoiled milk incident doesn't happen. I need to go to the store to stock the kitchen appropriately. I need to do all the laundry and organize the dresser drawers and linen closet so everything can be found. I need to check in every drawer and behind every door that might need to be opened for any reason, and make sure whatever is in there is accessible and not surrounded by anything embarrassing. And about the time I realize this - usually around 10 am on the day we have scheduled a babysitter for the evening - is the time I start having a panic attack in anticipation of the panic I will feel later that afternoon when I only have 3 hours, or 2 hours, or finally 1 hour to get it all finished. It doesn't matter that I tell myself it is ridiculous to panic now, that I still have many hours and that even my long list of tasks shouldn't take that long. I think of all the things that could get in the way of me getting these things completed, and I think of the embarrassment or helplessness or disorientation I feel when I don't get them complete, and my heart starts racing and my lung capacity gets cut in half and the problem-solving, task-oriented part of my brain shuts down. Nice.

Sometimes these days end with an emotional rant at Heath about how I always get stuck with this responsibility, and how unfair it all is. I don't really feel this way, but the pain of anxiety begs to be unleashed and targeted somewhere other than at my own fragile sense self-worth. Heath has learned that he can usually avoid this rant being directed at him if he does one or two things to help the night before, particularly any household task I find particularly daunting. He didn't do that last night, but hopefully I'll still manage to regain an excited and relaxed attitude before show time tonight. I have already snapped at the kids several times this morning, which doesn't make me feel any better, actually.

Hate... the... feeling... of... tension...

My Big Wooser

I know, three posts in one day is really not the best way to do it. But I had to point you to Auntie G's blog and her post about Jez Luckett, or "My Big Wooser," as Ethan likes to call him. (As in, "Mommy, I wanna watch my big wooser!" and "Mommy, where my big wooser?" when trying to spot Jez on the show. :-) Heath has known Jez for a long time, and it is amazing to see the transformation his body has undergone since being on The Biggest Loser.