Peace

How can I not post on this? 33 people, sons, daughters, cousins, brothers, sisters, gone. Plus I am a teacher. I have students who write about death, sadness, hate, depression, being lonely, picked on, etc. I get scared. Since last Monday, I have stopped putting my keys in my desk drawer and carry them in my pocket. I can lock my door faster that way. Sometimes the world seems too much to bear. I look at Mason and fear for him, for the world he will grow up in. I think about this new baby just beginning life in me and fear for him or her. What will they face? What pain will I suffer because of motherhood. Its amazing how the world changes the instant you become a mother. Kidnapped children become your own. Witnessing the aftermath of a car wreck is devastating, not an inconvenience. Commercials for St. Jude's Hospital form a lump in your throat because you can't imagine watching your perfect child die. But here is what I cling to. That unexplained peace that comes in times of hurt, and unbearable tragedy. I have been so very fortunate in my life to have very few moments of real tragedy. We have had moments of heartbreak and ache, but the kind of tragedy mentioned above, never. But I have lost my dad. My daddy. And I remember before it happened that I could barely allow my mind to let the thought of him dying enter my mind before it was forcibly removed from my thinking. It was too much to deal with, to think about. I couldn't even fathom the pain of his death. And then it happened. After a week in the hospital, that I, strangely, look back on with a great deal of appreciation, he went to heaven. It was devastating. I cried then, cried for real, cried until no more tears could come, but even in the depth of those tears, a peace was there and has been there ever since. Of course, I wish my Dad were still here. I wish I would never wake from those dreams I have with him in it where I am rushing to tell him everything happening in my life before he is gone. I wish he could see my house, my classroom, hear stories about Mason, feel his hug again, but even with that ache, I am at peace with his passing. He is in heaven, just waiting for us. Or maybe he isn't even waiting. Maybe we're already there with him because in heaven thousands of years pass in a second. Another sense of comfort is that every time I look at Mason, I just know Dad had to play a part in picking him out. I just know it.

Tragedy and pain is inevitable. But that unexplained peace is even more definite. Thank goodness for that.

Thankful

I try to be a pretty positive person and appreciate all that I have. Sometimes it is pretty hard. Other times, not at all. We have had some recent financial issues as of late, nothing major, but things to think about and deal with. We are down to one car due to a very inopportune wreck. Is there such a thing as an opportune wreck? Anyway, while I could be majorly stressing about our financial situation, I am not. Maybe I have not allowed myself to really let it sink in or I don't know. But here is what I do know - it's gonna be okay. God is quite the miracle worker, you see, and we don't really even need a miracle. We just need a sprinkle of grace. I am pretty sure we'll get that sprinkle. We are really so blessed in so many ways. I know this, knew this but had a newfound realization of this as I watched Mason ride his tricycle around the culdesac this evening while the evening breeze swept through the branches of our giant oak tree in the front yard. As I was watching him gleefully circle around the pavement, I began to think about the little blessings we all have but forget about.

Wind. Imagine a world without a breeze on the beach, or the beautiful sound of the first cold front of winter whistling past our windows, or the gusts of a thunderstorm that can, in a second, turn a still motionless tree into tangled mess of swaying and swishing dark green leaves. Imagine a world without a breeze.

Sunrises and Sunsets. I dare anyone to really think about the beauty and uniqueness of each and every sunrise and sunset without realizing the presence of the artist of these masterpieces. He could have made them all the same. He could have not made them at all. He could have not made a sky. He has to love us quite a bit to make a different sunrise and sunset for every day.

Seasons. Do you think it is a coincidence that just when you think you can't stand winter one more second, a front blows in one of those warm spring breezes that reminds you what glorious season is waiting just around the corner? Or how the seemingly endless heat of Indian Summer is suddenly and quite unexpectedly blown away with the first cold front of the season that ushers in the wonderful aromas of new fires and hot cocoa? Seasons are His quarterly reminder that he loves us so much that he actually changes the world for us.

I know those things may seem almost silly to actually write about in a post but, really, what better proof can we find of His love for us than in these daily reminders. Think what the world would be like if it were made by a God who didn't love his children. Have you ever seen the room of a neglected child? We are not neglected children, even on our worst days. Even when our car breaks down, or the checkbook just doesn't quite make it or our students don't get it or our kids drive us crazy or the world seems too dark to bear, we still have the wind, the sun will always rise and set, and just when we think we can't make it another moment, a new season arrives.

Thank you, Jesus for loving us enough to make this world.

Human Again

Ladies and Gentleman, I am back. I feel quite human again after a seemingly endless time of being consumed by nausea and lethargy. I feel almost reborn. As evidence to my new found energy and rebirth, this weekend I have already cleaned house(sort of, but that was never a pregnancy problem...), BAKED COOKIES from scratch, done laundry, made a very cute chart of rewards for Mason for not peeing in his bed(recent setbacks in this area spawned this creation) and made a cute example of the Mother Goose Project that my students will be making in class this week. In addition to these things, I left school on Friday up to date on my grades, a plan for ALL of next week and nothing schoolwise to do this weekend. It feels fantastic to be human again. Now, be forewarned, not all pregnancy symptoms have vanished. For example, sleep is still my favorite hobby. Tears are quite freuqent, and I am hungry ALL THE TIME. Bad thing with that last one is that food, almost all food with very rare exceptions, sounds FANTASTIC - hence the cookie making. Anyway, my blog readers, I am back. I will still have moments of complaining, don't you worry, but the sun is shining, I am smiling(because dinner is in the oven primarily) and life is good.

We need to have a talk

Mason found a package of Sour Patch kids the other day and I said he could have them if he shared with me. Well, in the process of opening them, completely on his own of course, he spilled half on the floor. I said I would eat the ones in the bag and he could have the ones that fell(I have vacuumed in recent months...). Well, we were sitting there sharing them and he was getting upset with the fact that I wasn't eating the ones from the floor. Finally, with a tone normally only possessed by mature parents, he says, "When you are done working, we need to have a talk."
I, trying to contain my laughter, said, "Oh really? About what?"
"About you learning how to share. You don't share and when you don't share it means you're not nice and you should be nice."
Well by now I am intrigued. So I put the computer aside and said, "How do I learn to share?"
With absolute calmness and certainty he replies, "You just do share. And also, when you don't share, it is not good, and you should be good. And also, when I am at my school, if I drop a toy, it gets stolen. That's what happens sometimes. So you need to share."
I gave in and gave him one non floor infected sour patch kid(yellow, of course, because they're my least favorite.)

Oh, and by the way. Yellow Large Baby is no longer allowed out of the house because he/she(?) is scared of the alligators at Mr. Gatti's and just can't go anymore.

Remind me...

Why I was so anxious for Mason to start talking? I mean, I am kidding here. Obviously having a son who is smart enough to tell me in great detail which friend stole an acorn from a girl at the playground and so he had to take that boy an acorn so that he wouldn't steal the acorn from the girl because she started crying....OHMYGOSH... are you still talking!!!! I mean seriously he talks allllllllll the time. But most of the time it is pretty cute.
The funniest times are when he is talking and you go, "What?" and responding with contained frustration, says, "Mom, I am talking to my babies." (His babies are his imaginary friends that have names such as Holly Macauly, yellow baby, Holly, Large baby, etc...) Most of the time he is getting onto them for doing something wrong liking jumping out the window or hitting another baby. I have heard that imaginary friends is a sign of giftedness. Hopefully it doesn't mean he's crazy.
Another funny thing is when he sings a song, with all the motions but many wrong words so you have no clue what he is actually doing. Strangers are often amused by this as well.
Man, oh, man. What am I going to do when I have a 4 year old and an 8 year in 4 years. I am going to have to limit their word usage or something!

Where to begin...

It has been so long since I have posted that I don't know what to tell you about. Although nothing terribly exciting has happened really. I guess the most important thing is that I am finally feeling better. I can breathe again, and my headaches are less frequent, and all those whines and complaints from the last blog are fading. Yay!
Okay, I have to be a teacher now. I will post more exciting things later. I promise.

Bust out the Violins and bring on the cheese

Because I am going to whine!!!

I am sick of being sick. I am sick of not being able to hear out of both my ears. I am tired of blowing snot out of my nose. I am sick of being hungry all the dang time but having no desire to make me anything halfway healthy. My head is still pounding and by still I mean since SUNDAY!!! I am tired of feeling like an awful mom because I don't have the energy to be anything but. I hate school right now. I just want to feel better. I want to breathe freely. I want to sleep again. I want to not wince in pain when I stand up because I have upset some delicate balance in the blood flow to my brain. I want to not burn up in my classes every day. I am sick of getting out of my breath when I talk or feeling like I am drowning in my own saliva because something in my body thinks that to make a baby I need more saliva. I just want to feel better. like Jenny. Not this zombie like stuffy headed, sleeping, couch potato bum that I am. GAWWWWW!!!!! What is wrong with me?

I have a doctor's appointment today. That man sure as heck better have something better for me than, "This is just normal." If he says that I might just have to show him what a "normal" pregnant does to a man who says dumb stuff like that.