Mood: humbled
This post has taken me nearly two weeks to write. So bear with me....
I don't know who reads this blog, I suspect my parents. My sister. Maybe my brother. Close friends from the east coast. A few co-workers from Iowa. Other than that, I have no idea. Many of you probably already know then, that my husband Jeff had a brief battle with testicular cancer in April. We got the all clear and he's been having two month check-ups.
His last one was August 30.
I hate going to the cancer center at the hospital. I hate that we have to go. I hate dragging Malcolm along as he sings and chatters and Jeff and clutch to what little sanity we have left before the appointment. I hate the waiting room.
Last time we walked in, sat down and within two minutes watched a woman have a complete breakdown as she left the office. I've never heard wailing and sobbing so loudly in public before. And it's not at all that I was uncomfortable, but I was completely helpless. I don't know what prompted her tears and it really is irrelevant. I wanted to hug her, to tell her she mattered, to do anything that might momentarily relieve the pain in her heart. All I could do was wipe my own eyes and focus on Malcolm reading the story he had picked up from the front of the office. Jeff and I caught each other's eyes and the heartbreak I felt was mirrored.
To get to the office that Jeff's oncologist is in we have to walk past a pediatric cancer office. The first few times we went it was empty. The last two times we've gone, there have been children, younger than Malcolm, and mothers waiting. Each time we walked past that office or we left the cancer center with only a two month check-up appointment and a bill of all clear I realized how immensely lucky we were/are. Sure, we got the news that Jeff did have cancer at this office, but it was out of his body by the time we needed the oncologist. And at least our child was accompanying us because we didn't have a babysitter and not because he needed an appointment.
With each time that we left I got a little more confidence. It was a little easier. We didn't hear bad news. We weren't taking Malcolm. Maybe, just maybe, one brief battle was all we had to endure and we were now impervious to bad news and the devastation that is cancer. After all, Jeff is in his early 30s. I have yet to hit 30. Malcolm is only 4.
That's the thing about cancer, though. It doesn't care how old you are or who you are or where you're from or what you've done. Cancer attacks without rhyme or reason. And that, is a humbling lesson to learn. You grow up knowing of the horror stories or watching them play out. The first funeral I remember attending was for a very good friend in high school who died at the age of 15 after a horrendous battle with leukemia. My grandfather battled cancer for a large part of my adult life. But, you know, it just doesn't happen to you.
Until it does.
On August 30th we found out that there is a mass in Jeff's lung. Testicular cancer typically reappears in the back, according to the oncologist. That doesn't mean it can't come back in the lungs. So, now we wait for his biopsy. I really don't have coherent thoughts on what is happening now. Except that it sucks. And it's scary. And I hate it. And, I know better than to expect that nothing is wrong because I've learned this year, if nothing else, that nobody is immune to anything. Cancer sucks.
And it can happen to those you love the very most. Those that you've pledged to spend the rest of your life with....and only had 2 years with. It happens. And it sucks.
As we wait, I guess I'll try and keep calm. And laugh as much as possible. And enjoy every second of health that Jeff has at the moment. If the mass is cancerous he's looking at a three month round of chemo. So. I'll take deep breaths when I need to and cry when I have to and laugh every second that I can. And I'll remember above all else to count every blessing I have instead of focusing on what is going wrong. Because positivity matters.
2013/09/09
2013/07/22
YouTube: A Love Story
Mood: humble
So as I briefly mentioned I have a slight obsession with YouTube at the moment. I feel like I've been missing out on this community and now I'm determined to immerse myself as fully as possible. In doing so I've learned several things about myself recently:
1. I could have been a beauty blogger/YouTube guru. I honestly thought I was the only person who hoarded beauty products the way that I do...I mean I feel like most normal people only have two, maybe three mascaras. I currently have thirteen in the house. Thirteen mascaras. And I can detail how every single one performs and why you might want to choose one mascara over the other. Plus I want more...every time I see a new one I get all kinds of excited the way Malcolm does when he sees a new Spiderman. Let's not even get started on how many lip products or eyeliners I have. Apparently I could have vlogged my opinon on products and made money....ugh. Jeff says to go for it, as I mentioned last post he keeps tellling me that all the vloggers started somwhere. He's right, however, I feel like I arrived to the party super late so I'm going to remain a spectator at this point.
2. Goats screaming are hilarious and I sound exactly like a screaming goat when I attempt to sing. Yet when I sing it is nowhere near as hilarious as a screaming goat. Maybe I sound more like a severely injured cat. One of the two. It takes a lot of patience and love for someone to listen to me belt out Something Corporate's "Konstantine" and still be smiling and not plugging your ears at the end, and for this reason I will never, ever stop loving Jeff. Seriously. The man has the patience, and apparently ears, of a saint.
3. People gain fame and money by coming up with crafty puns, and I am immensely jealous of this. Hannah Hart and her My Drunk Kitchen show is an excellent example of this, and seriously, her puns are fantastic. Plus the idea of getting drunk and cooking....genius. I could have made so much money in college by attempting the cooking and baking we did after heading to the local bar, Jack's, though we usually ended up calling Two Cousins pizza for fried cauliflower and pizza cause...well....inevitably somebody would forget to turn the oven on while attempting to bake a funfetti cake.
4. There is something for everyone. And seriously, I mean everyone. There are channels full of sarcasm and wit, beauty advice, DIY tutorials for awesome jewelry....annnnnnnnnnnd people popping zits and cysts (which I oddly can't stop watching along with videos of botflys erupting out of the human body. Amazing....) Anyway, pretty much anything you could possibly imagine is on YouTube. You can watch serious singing talent and then watch some jerk clean his ear out. I mean. How is this NOT a part of the American Dream? I might never upload a single video to YouTube cause I'm actually super camera shy...but a girl can dream. Or just watch cute kittens for an hour. It's pretty much the same thing.
5. Perhaps the most important thing I have recently learned from YouTube is how to curl my hair! Serioiusly. I'm 29 and I JUST figured out this summer how to curl my hair and have it look the way I mean for it to look. I'd get lucky every so often with my flat iron and happen into an awesome curled style...but it was always when I was just screwing around and never actually leaving the house. Now, I can curl my hair before going out and be proud of my curls. I can't even describe the level of excitement that I have right now. Also, if you're thinking about buying a curling wand...DO IT. Best $15 I ever spent. Legit.
Maybe curling my hair is slightly less important than learning to be myself and put myself out there. But. I mean, should I someday become an internet star or have a picture for the back of a book cover, at least my hair will look slamming.
So as I briefly mentioned I have a slight obsession with YouTube at the moment. I feel like I've been missing out on this community and now I'm determined to immerse myself as fully as possible. In doing so I've learned several things about myself recently:
1. I could have been a beauty blogger/YouTube guru. I honestly thought I was the only person who hoarded beauty products the way that I do...I mean I feel like most normal people only have two, maybe three mascaras. I currently have thirteen in the house. Thirteen mascaras. And I can detail how every single one performs and why you might want to choose one mascara over the other. Plus I want more...every time I see a new one I get all kinds of excited the way Malcolm does when he sees a new Spiderman. Let's not even get started on how many lip products or eyeliners I have. Apparently I could have vlogged my opinon on products and made money....ugh. Jeff says to go for it, as I mentioned last post he keeps tellling me that all the vloggers started somwhere. He's right, however, I feel like I arrived to the party super late so I'm going to remain a spectator at this point.
2. Goats screaming are hilarious and I sound exactly like a screaming goat when I attempt to sing. Yet when I sing it is nowhere near as hilarious as a screaming goat. Maybe I sound more like a severely injured cat. One of the two. It takes a lot of patience and love for someone to listen to me belt out Something Corporate's "Konstantine" and still be smiling and not plugging your ears at the end, and for this reason I will never, ever stop loving Jeff. Seriously. The man has the patience, and apparently ears, of a saint.
3. People gain fame and money by coming up with crafty puns, and I am immensely jealous of this. Hannah Hart and her My Drunk Kitchen show is an excellent example of this, and seriously, her puns are fantastic. Plus the idea of getting drunk and cooking....genius. I could have made so much money in college by attempting the cooking and baking we did after heading to the local bar, Jack's, though we usually ended up calling Two Cousins pizza for fried cauliflower and pizza cause...well....inevitably somebody would forget to turn the oven on while attempting to bake a funfetti cake.
4. There is something for everyone. And seriously, I mean everyone. There are channels full of sarcasm and wit, beauty advice, DIY tutorials for awesome jewelry....annnnnnnnnnnd people popping zits and cysts (which I oddly can't stop watching along with videos of botflys erupting out of the human body. Amazing....) Anyway, pretty much anything you could possibly imagine is on YouTube. You can watch serious singing talent and then watch some jerk clean his ear out. I mean. How is this NOT a part of the American Dream? I might never upload a single video to YouTube cause I'm actually super camera shy...but a girl can dream. Or just watch cute kittens for an hour. It's pretty much the same thing.
5. Perhaps the most important thing I have recently learned from YouTube is how to curl my hair! Serioiusly. I'm 29 and I JUST figured out this summer how to curl my hair and have it look the way I mean for it to look. I'd get lucky every so often with my flat iron and happen into an awesome curled style...but it was always when I was just screwing around and never actually leaving the house. Now, I can curl my hair before going out and be proud of my curls. I can't even describe the level of excitement that I have right now. Also, if you're thinking about buying a curling wand...DO IT. Best $15 I ever spent. Legit.
Maybe curling my hair is slightly less important than learning to be myself and put myself out there. But. I mean, should I someday become an internet star or have a picture for the back of a book cover, at least my hair will look slamming.
2013/07/18
Everybody Starts Somehwere
Mood: old
Guys, I have got to stop blogging once every 6 months or so. I've wanted to write for a while...but I just always feel like somebody else has said anything that I have to write before. And they've said it more eloquently. And if it's somebody super awesome, like Allie Brosh, she's said it with pictures. Sometimes of bears. How can I compete with that?
I've recently become immersed in the world of YouTube, the beauty gurus in particular. Oh how dangerous their voices are when I'm in my local CVS. As I watch them I remember how when I was a teenager I would put my makeup on in front of the mirror and verbally coach an invisible audience through it. I seriously did. I did the same thing with cooking, acting like I was going to be the star of a cooking show. It never occurred to my 16 year old self that when the interwebs became awesome and people started uploading videos that I might have something to say. And that invisible audience might actually be real people one day.
Actually, I gave up on a career in beauty altogether right after I graduated from college and was offered a job for BareMinerals. Stupid Ashley. The thing is, I can't really beat myself up over that. If I had agreed to be the Marketing Rep for the Philadelphia region of their sales force...well...I wouldn't have had a reason to move to Iowa broke and jobless. I wouldn't have met my husband. I wouldn't know my stepson. And I wouldn't have this ball of fluff.
How can I wallow in what might have been with that face staring at me? Um. I can't.
When it comes to doing things I want to, but am too afraid to do, Jeff is always right there cheering me on. Encouraging me to try things that scare me. Blogging. Vlogging. New craft ideas from Pinterest....
"I like your writing."
"It's always fun to read."
"Other people like your writing."
And more recently he's been nagging me to start vlogging...if it's something I want to do of course.
"All the beauty gurus started somewhere." He's right of coure. And all the bloggers did too. I guess that sitting in front of my computer hoping that one day I'll wake up an internet made millionaire isn't going to do me any good. Like a millionaire that gets to roll around naked in money (though that's probably reaaaaaaaaaaally dirty). I know, of course, that making this much money wouldn't make me happy automatically, money is NOT what the whole world is about...but I'd like to make enough money to say, have our own house one day. I wouldn't turn down naked rolling money, but I'd settle for rent money of course. For now....
This horribly connected post is a reintroduction of sorts to the world of blogging and reaching out a bit socially. I've developed an unhealthy relationship with YouTube, my couch and the view from the deck when I'm feeling adventurous.
Jeff's assertion that everybody starts somewhere is true. And I keep thinking about that and while I acknowledge that the statement is true I guess my hang up is that...I'm not a somebody. And I'm not destined to be a somebody. I used to dream of a life of fame on Broadway but when I actually realized that I could not carry a tune to save my live and actually may cause others to take their own lives...well...the whole idea of fame kind of wore off. Then I wanted to be a famous writer...the next J.K. Rowling. Hell, I'd be Stephenie Meyer if I no longer had to worry about money. Maybe not. I want to put out art that I am truly proud of, not that makes quick millions. Although....
Anyway. Discussions on what constitutes good literature (i.e. NOT Twilight) is not at all the point here. The point is that I'm slowly starting to realzie that, damn it, I might be somebody. And I may never be Rowling rich or famous. I may never have over a million subscribers who want to hear what I have to say about Cetaphil face wash (incidentally I quite like it!) and I may have Allie Brosh darling of the internet status. That's fine I guess. My point is that at 29 I'm finally ready to do things like taking risks and failing. I have got to stop never starting for fear of failure. Cause, I mean, that really has gotten me nowhere. And I can't even say I tried.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm fairly certain that vlogging as a beauty guru is not what I'm meant to do, but it does look pretty fun. Too bad I'm sure I couldn't edit videos with any skill whatsoever. What I do believe in is my love affair with words. With writing. With connecting to otherss via words and ideas. So for now, I'm going to dip my little toe into the ocean and gently ease back in to writing. Regularly. On this blog. And I hope you're willing to take whatever journey I'm on with me.
Guys, I have got to stop blogging once every 6 months or so. I've wanted to write for a while...but I just always feel like somebody else has said anything that I have to write before. And they've said it more eloquently. And if it's somebody super awesome, like Allie Brosh, she's said it with pictures. Sometimes of bears. How can I compete with that?
I've recently become immersed in the world of YouTube, the beauty gurus in particular. Oh how dangerous their voices are when I'm in my local CVS. As I watch them I remember how when I was a teenager I would put my makeup on in front of the mirror and verbally coach an invisible audience through it. I seriously did. I did the same thing with cooking, acting like I was going to be the star of a cooking show. It never occurred to my 16 year old self that when the interwebs became awesome and people started uploading videos that I might have something to say. And that invisible audience might actually be real people one day.
Actually, I gave up on a career in beauty altogether right after I graduated from college and was offered a job for BareMinerals. Stupid Ashley. The thing is, I can't really beat myself up over that. If I had agreed to be the Marketing Rep for the Philadelphia region of their sales force...well...I wouldn't have had a reason to move to Iowa broke and jobless. I wouldn't have met my husband. I wouldn't know my stepson. And I wouldn't have this ball of fluff.
How can I wallow in what might have been with that face staring at me? Um. I can't.
When it comes to doing things I want to, but am too afraid to do, Jeff is always right there cheering me on. Encouraging me to try things that scare me. Blogging. Vlogging. New craft ideas from Pinterest....
"I like your writing."
"It's always fun to read."
"Other people like your writing."
And more recently he's been nagging me to start vlogging...if it's something I want to do of course.
"All the beauty gurus started somewhere." He's right of coure. And all the bloggers did too. I guess that sitting in front of my computer hoping that one day I'll wake up an internet made millionaire isn't going to do me any good. Like a millionaire that gets to roll around naked in money (though that's probably reaaaaaaaaaaally dirty). I know, of course, that making this much money wouldn't make me happy automatically, money is NOT what the whole world is about...but I'd like to make enough money to say, have our own house one day. I wouldn't turn down naked rolling money, but I'd settle for rent money of course. For now....
This horribly connected post is a reintroduction of sorts to the world of blogging and reaching out a bit socially. I've developed an unhealthy relationship with YouTube, my couch and the view from the deck when I'm feeling adventurous.
Jeff's assertion that everybody starts somewhere is true. And I keep thinking about that and while I acknowledge that the statement is true I guess my hang up is that...I'm not a somebody. And I'm not destined to be a somebody. I used to dream of a life of fame on Broadway but when I actually realized that I could not carry a tune to save my live and actually may cause others to take their own lives...well...the whole idea of fame kind of wore off. Then I wanted to be a famous writer...the next J.K. Rowling. Hell, I'd be Stephenie Meyer if I no longer had to worry about money. Maybe not. I want to put out art that I am truly proud of, not that makes quick millions. Although....
Anyway. Discussions on what constitutes good literature (i.e. NOT Twilight) is not at all the point here. The point is that I'm slowly starting to realzie that, damn it, I might be somebody. And I may never be Rowling rich or famous. I may never have over a million subscribers who want to hear what I have to say about Cetaphil face wash (incidentally I quite like it!) and I may have Allie Brosh darling of the internet status. That's fine I guess. My point is that at 29 I'm finally ready to do things like taking risks and failing. I have got to stop never starting for fear of failure. Cause, I mean, that really has gotten me nowhere. And I can't even say I tried.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm fairly certain that vlogging as a beauty guru is not what I'm meant to do, but it does look pretty fun. Too bad I'm sure I couldn't edit videos with any skill whatsoever. What I do believe in is my love affair with words. With writing. With connecting to otherss via words and ideas. So for now, I'm going to dip my little toe into the ocean and gently ease back in to writing. Regularly. On this blog. And I hope you're willing to take whatever journey I'm on with me.
2013/01/09
Truth Is.....
Mood: frantic
Okay readers, here's the deal. I wait to post until I KNOW what I want to say. Or at least I know why I want to say something. I only post when I have been able to let an idea marinate and everything fits cohesively, if only in my head. Tonight is completely different. I KNOW that I have to blog, but I have no idea why. I don't even know what to say.
I'm having one of those days, weeks really, where I feel like I am a complete stranger to myself. I know things about me...here's a list
I am going to be 29 this year
I drink waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much caffeine
I have my dad's blue eyes
I have a BS from Millersville University
I have 4 tattoos and 10 piercings between 2 ears (though at least 3 of the holes never have earrings anymore and may very well be closed over)
I like writing
I laugh a lot
I love whiny college music even though it has been nearly 7 years since I graduated
I want to finish graduate school
That last one kind of just came out. Somewhere from deep inside me...that still small voice said it. Stupid. I don't want to want to finish my Master of Divinity because...well because it's scary.
All day I've had two things running through my head...an Optimus Prime quote (yeah...that surprised me too) and a song by The Starting Line. And all day these two things have been literally gnawing at me until I finally sat down to write this blog and then...BAM! There's this random thought on my computer screen. I deleted it once. Then retyped it and deleted it again. But I do want to finish. So in print it stays.
Back to the gnawing.
Optimus sagely tells Sam that "fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing." I have this audio clip on my phone. All day I have been hearing Optimus give this advice. First quietly. Then loudly. Now...I can't hear a thing. I'm overwhelmed.
I just finished an Anne Lamott book. I love her. In the book she talks about how obnoxious God is. Sending these small signals until we have been beaten into submission all but tearing out hair out going "ALRIGHT ALREADY I HEAR YOU."
Apparently I've hit that point. Here's what is really awful about wanting to finish school. I originally attended graduate school on a full scholarship. Not to say that grad school was cheap, it was very much NOT cheap. But my tuition was covered. And I threw it away. Just like that. I gave up. So I feel like I don't even deserve to want to go back.
And here's where I have a huge issue with God. I cannot go back right now. It is not a possibility. There is no way financially to make this happen. But I KNOW that until I go back...well...I won't feel right. And I didn't know that until right this second.
I got a message the other night from a dear seminary friend. I haven't answered it yet, as I just don't know what to say. I am so ashamed of my exit from school that...I just don't have words. But that was one of the last annoying nudges from God. Then Optimus. Then The Starting Line. The song is titled "Best of Me." It isn't necessarily the song itself...but the title. And the band name. I am at a starting line. Of sorts I guess. And I keep getting smacked in the face by small things that remind me of what I am supposed to do. And finally, it came out. The admission. The truth.
Readers, I never post without at least one thorough proofread. Tonight I just can't even read through this myself. Admitting the truth has been exhausting. But exhilarating.
So. Here I am. My truth hanging out there for all to see. To judge. To know. I feel naked. But I feel good.
Okay readers, here's the deal. I wait to post until I KNOW what I want to say. Or at least I know why I want to say something. I only post when I have been able to let an idea marinate and everything fits cohesively, if only in my head. Tonight is completely different. I KNOW that I have to blog, but I have no idea why. I don't even know what to say.
I'm having one of those days, weeks really, where I feel like I am a complete stranger to myself. I know things about me...here's a list
I am going to be 29 this year
I drink waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much caffeine
I have my dad's blue eyes
I have a BS from Millersville University
I have 4 tattoos and 10 piercings between 2 ears (though at least 3 of the holes never have earrings anymore and may very well be closed over)
I like writing
I laugh a lot
I love whiny college music even though it has been nearly 7 years since I graduated
I want to finish graduate school
That last one kind of just came out. Somewhere from deep inside me...that still small voice said it. Stupid. I don't want to want to finish my Master of Divinity because...well because it's scary.
All day I've had two things running through my head...an Optimus Prime quote (yeah...that surprised me too) and a song by The Starting Line. And all day these two things have been literally gnawing at me until I finally sat down to write this blog and then...BAM! There's this random thought on my computer screen. I deleted it once. Then retyped it and deleted it again. But I do want to finish. So in print it stays.
Back to the gnawing.
Optimus sagely tells Sam that "fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing." I have this audio clip on my phone. All day I have been hearing Optimus give this advice. First quietly. Then loudly. Now...I can't hear a thing. I'm overwhelmed.
I just finished an Anne Lamott book. I love her. In the book she talks about how obnoxious God is. Sending these small signals until we have been beaten into submission all but tearing out hair out going "ALRIGHT ALREADY I HEAR YOU."
Apparently I've hit that point. Here's what is really awful about wanting to finish school. I originally attended graduate school on a full scholarship. Not to say that grad school was cheap, it was very much NOT cheap. But my tuition was covered. And I threw it away. Just like that. I gave up. So I feel like I don't even deserve to want to go back.
And here's where I have a huge issue with God. I cannot go back right now. It is not a possibility. There is no way financially to make this happen. But I KNOW that until I go back...well...I won't feel right. And I didn't know that until right this second.
I got a message the other night from a dear seminary friend. I haven't answered it yet, as I just don't know what to say. I am so ashamed of my exit from school that...I just don't have words. But that was one of the last annoying nudges from God. Then Optimus. Then The Starting Line. The song is titled "Best of Me." It isn't necessarily the song itself...but the title. And the band name. I am at a starting line. Of sorts I guess. And I keep getting smacked in the face by small things that remind me of what I am supposed to do. And finally, it came out. The admission. The truth.
Readers, I never post without at least one thorough proofread. Tonight I just can't even read through this myself. Admitting the truth has been exhausting. But exhilarating.
So. Here I am. My truth hanging out there for all to see. To judge. To know. I feel naked. But I feel good.
Thank you for bearing witness to my truth. And I hope you realize your own in good time.
2012/12/27
Lessons in Humility
Alternate title: Proof That my (Almost) 4 Year Old Stepson is Smarter Than me.....
Mood: humble, happy, hopeful
I have to admit, I never wanted children. Publicly anyway. As I've gotten older I've realized that not wanting children was indeed a defense mechanism. If I say I don't want any then how can I possibly be disappointed when I don't have any? I do have one, though. Malcolm may not be my son by blood or biology, but in my heart I know we were meant to be in each other's lives.
Reason #1 I know this to be true? He forces me to learn something new every single day. And if we're being completely honest I learn something new about 20 times a day when I'm with him. My current favorite example happened last night. Last month my mom shipped her old Clarisonic face brush to me as I was having a horrid time with my face breaking out, but could not afford to purchase one myself. Last month is the most important part of that sentence. I have been using this for a full month. 30 days. I've been cleansing morning and night religiously with this thing. I just yesterday learned that there is more than 1 speed. How did I learn this? Malcolm picked it up. That's it. Withing 10 seconds of having it turned on he managed to show me that there is more than 1 setting. Why had it never occurred to me to press that damn button a second time?
Which leads me to reason #2 that I know we are destined to be lifelong friends. He makes me wonder. I took a course in seminary on wonder. What wonder is, how to encourage it, how to take time to wonder. It seemed so logical and smart and easy at age 23, having never been outside of an academic setting. I would sit in class and think that of course we all needed to stop and smell the proverbial roses, why on earth was I earning credit for this class? Then life happened. 5 years of work and general living and not being an official student later, I wish I would remember to smell those roses. Or to look at the snow outside and think not of the delays and headaches that it will result in, but how infinitely amazing it is that there is 13 inches on the ground and not one single flake is the same as another. Malcolm is a constant reminder that the world is full of things to marvel at. From the universal and deeply meaningful to remembering that it's okay to experiment with everyday items just to "see what happens."
And the third and most important reason I know that Malcolm was more than a huge bonus to meeting and marrying Jeff? I love him. It may seem like that reason doesn't make sense. But to me, it does. I love this child. This child that did not grow inside me, nor did I ever see in infancy. This child that could already walk and punch and argue when we met. This child that teaches me all the time that I am capable of more. I am so much more than what I limit myself to. Jeff tells me this, my parents and sister tell me this, it is something I "know." Yet for some reason when this realization comes from Malcolm it clicks. I have a sudden, fleeting moment of clarity that whatever horrible thing is happening at this exact second is just a speck of dust on the "big picture" of our lives. I have gained patience that I never thought I would have. And love that is so pure and real that wondering at it now, tears of joy fall from my eyes.
Parenthood, and step-parenthood in particular, is trial by fire. There is nothing to be done except do and then pray that you're doing something right. Judging by Malcolm Jeff has done a great job, and the way he relates to me I think maybe I'm not doing too shabby. I know that this is a lifelong job, and I am already dreading Malcolm circa age 12...but today I am so blessed to be spending time with him. Teaching him. Loving him. But most importantly, learning and growing from him.
Mood: humble, happy, hopeful
I have to admit, I never wanted children. Publicly anyway. As I've gotten older I've realized that not wanting children was indeed a defense mechanism. If I say I don't want any then how can I possibly be disappointed when I don't have any? I do have one, though. Malcolm may not be my son by blood or biology, but in my heart I know we were meant to be in each other's lives.
Reason #1 I know this to be true? He forces me to learn something new every single day. And if we're being completely honest I learn something new about 20 times a day when I'm with him. My current favorite example happened last night. Last month my mom shipped her old Clarisonic face brush to me as I was having a horrid time with my face breaking out, but could not afford to purchase one myself. Last month is the most important part of that sentence. I have been using this for a full month. 30 days. I've been cleansing morning and night religiously with this thing. I just yesterday learned that there is more than 1 speed. How did I learn this? Malcolm picked it up. That's it. Withing 10 seconds of having it turned on he managed to show me that there is more than 1 setting. Why had it never occurred to me to press that damn button a second time?
Which leads me to reason #2 that I know we are destined to be lifelong friends. He makes me wonder. I took a course in seminary on wonder. What wonder is, how to encourage it, how to take time to wonder. It seemed so logical and smart and easy at age 23, having never been outside of an academic setting. I would sit in class and think that of course we all needed to stop and smell the proverbial roses, why on earth was I earning credit for this class? Then life happened. 5 years of work and general living and not being an official student later, I wish I would remember to smell those roses. Or to look at the snow outside and think not of the delays and headaches that it will result in, but how infinitely amazing it is that there is 13 inches on the ground and not one single flake is the same as another. Malcolm is a constant reminder that the world is full of things to marvel at. From the universal and deeply meaningful to remembering that it's okay to experiment with everyday items just to "see what happens."
And the third and most important reason I know that Malcolm was more than a huge bonus to meeting and marrying Jeff? I love him. It may seem like that reason doesn't make sense. But to me, it does. I love this child. This child that did not grow inside me, nor did I ever see in infancy. This child that could already walk and punch and argue when we met. This child that teaches me all the time that I am capable of more. I am so much more than what I limit myself to. Jeff tells me this, my parents and sister tell me this, it is something I "know." Yet for some reason when this realization comes from Malcolm it clicks. I have a sudden, fleeting moment of clarity that whatever horrible thing is happening at this exact second is just a speck of dust on the "big picture" of our lives. I have gained patience that I never thought I would have. And love that is so pure and real that wondering at it now, tears of joy fall from my eyes.
Parenthood, and step-parenthood in particular, is trial by fire. There is nothing to be done except do and then pray that you're doing something right. Judging by Malcolm Jeff has done a great job, and the way he relates to me I think maybe I'm not doing too shabby. I know that this is a lifelong job, and I am already dreading Malcolm circa age 12...but today I am so blessed to be spending time with him. Teaching him. Loving him. But most importantly, learning and growing from him.
2012/12/26
I Survived Christmas...and the Apocalypse
Mood: hopeful, excited
Well readers, I survived Christmas. And if you're reading this you have also come out alive. To be honest this year was my best Christmas ever. Jeff and Malcolm and I were all supposed to make the trek to Pennsylvania to be with my family for Christmas but we stayed in Iowa instead. Jeff got a new job (YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY) in November and we didn't feel comfortable requesting vacation time that quickly.
So another Christmas in Iowa for me. It was spectacular though. First, even though I miss my family like crazy, I know my parents will agree that not having to travel during the holidays is truly a blessing in itself. Not having to haul Malcolm and his gazillion toys to the east coast and then haul a gazillion and 10 toys back home was quite a relief. Secondly, the amount of time it takes to travel seriously cuts into actually celebrating the holidays. If Jeff and Malcolm and I drive we are looking at 2 days to PA and 2 days back to IA. If we fly then it's 2 days of being at airports and driving. Not a bad deal, but still 2 days that we don't get to spend with friends or family or enjoying the holidays.
Lastly, this is Jeff and I's first Christmas with Malcolm as a married couple. Essentially it was our first Christmas as a family, as last year we celebrated a week later. Sure it's just a day to Malcolm who isn't 4 yet...but it does hold weight for me.
So once the end of the world came and went I started preparing for Christmas 2012...Lilland style. I've never made sugar cookies from scratch before but since Jeff can't have any dairy I had to figure it out. Not so hard...and about 6 dozen cookies later I think I did pretty well. We wrapped gifts, wrote cards, and decided which cookies to leave out for Santa. Jeff and I sat together on Christmas Eve after family members departed for the evening and did nothing. It was perfect.
I woke up before Malcolm or Jeff on Christmas, and the kind of excitement I remember feeling as a kid was present. The pit of your stomach excitement where you can't wait to get started with the day. Trust me, I like to kill as much time in bed under warm covers as possible in the morning, but I couldn't wait to hop out of bed and enjoy the morning. We got Malcolm up and did just that.
The joy of watching a child on Christmas morning is so unlike anything that I have ever experienced. It was the first time in my whole life (I'm sad to admit this) that I truly didn't care at all if there was a single present for me. All I wanted was to watch Malcolm smile and fist pump with joy and continue to say "YESSSSSSSSS" forever. Last year he was still young enough that unwrapping wasn't that fun for him. This year? Oh, he loves it. We opened presents, played with presents, and my mother in law made fresh cinnamon rolls. The only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been to have my family sitting in the same room. Alas, life isn't perfect.
Now that I've survived Christmas I'm finding myself with a renewed joy. With a happier spirit. I'm still working on becoming who I want to be...but I have a better idea. I want to be a better person, for Malcolm. And I think I have a few ideas as to how to better myself.
I pray you all came through the holidays with a spirit of laughter and love. And probably some awesome presents. And if this year sucked, next year will be better! Plus, you survived the end of the world with flying colors so not everything is terrible!
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Well readers, I survived Christmas. And if you're reading this you have also come out alive. To be honest this year was my best Christmas ever. Jeff and Malcolm and I were all supposed to make the trek to Pennsylvania to be with my family for Christmas but we stayed in Iowa instead. Jeff got a new job (YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY) in November and we didn't feel comfortable requesting vacation time that quickly.
So another Christmas in Iowa for me. It was spectacular though. First, even though I miss my family like crazy, I know my parents will agree that not having to travel during the holidays is truly a blessing in itself. Not having to haul Malcolm and his gazillion toys to the east coast and then haul a gazillion and 10 toys back home was quite a relief. Secondly, the amount of time it takes to travel seriously cuts into actually celebrating the holidays. If Jeff and Malcolm and I drive we are looking at 2 days to PA and 2 days back to IA. If we fly then it's 2 days of being at airports and driving. Not a bad deal, but still 2 days that we don't get to spend with friends or family or enjoying the holidays.
Lastly, this is Jeff and I's first Christmas with Malcolm as a married couple. Essentially it was our first Christmas as a family, as last year we celebrated a week later. Sure it's just a day to Malcolm who isn't 4 yet...but it does hold weight for me.
So once the end of the world came and went I started preparing for Christmas 2012...Lilland style. I've never made sugar cookies from scratch before but since Jeff can't have any dairy I had to figure it out. Not so hard...and about 6 dozen cookies later I think I did pretty well. We wrapped gifts, wrote cards, and decided which cookies to leave out for Santa. Jeff and I sat together on Christmas Eve after family members departed for the evening and did nothing. It was perfect.
I woke up before Malcolm or Jeff on Christmas, and the kind of excitement I remember feeling as a kid was present. The pit of your stomach excitement where you can't wait to get started with the day. Trust me, I like to kill as much time in bed under warm covers as possible in the morning, but I couldn't wait to hop out of bed and enjoy the morning. We got Malcolm up and did just that.
The joy of watching a child on Christmas morning is so unlike anything that I have ever experienced. It was the first time in my whole life (I'm sad to admit this) that I truly didn't care at all if there was a single present for me. All I wanted was to watch Malcolm smile and fist pump with joy and continue to say "YESSSSSSSSS" forever. Last year he was still young enough that unwrapping wasn't that fun for him. This year? Oh, he loves it. We opened presents, played with presents, and my mother in law made fresh cinnamon rolls. The only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been to have my family sitting in the same room. Alas, life isn't perfect.
Now that I've survived Christmas I'm finding myself with a renewed joy. With a happier spirit. I'm still working on becoming who I want to be...but I have a better idea. I want to be a better person, for Malcolm. And I think I have a few ideas as to how to better myself.
I pray you all came through the holidays with a spirit of laughter and love. And probably some awesome presents. And if this year sucked, next year will be better! Plus, you survived the end of the world with flying colors so not everything is terrible!
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2012/12/20
Okay....Here Goes
Mood: ....
I'm leaving my mood blank. Not because I don't have one, mainly because I have too many at any given time right now.
I haven't blogged in 3 months. I haven't done much of anything I'm proud of in three months. In fact I'm not sure I've really done ANYTHING in three months.
Life has a funny way of getting away from you. I suspect all of us feel this way at some point or another. I certainly feel that way now. In November my graduating high school class celebrated our 10 year reunion. 10 years? How did that time just disappear?
For the past few days I've been doing some pretty serious self reflection. I've made some choices recently which forced my hand in the self examination arena. Which, at my best moments, I am truly thankful for.
I'm probably not a bad person. I'm certainly not the worst person to live...but I don't feel like a good person either. I don't feel good about myself. In the last 8 hours or so I've realized I can continue to feel that way or I can continue to do the painful work of continuing to look at who I am. Who I want to be. And I want to be good. I want to be somebody that my husband and stepson and parents and siblings are proud of. I want to be somebody that I am proud of.
This takes work. And it takes a starting place. I have no idea where to begin. But I am reminded of a quote from an art book I loved reading in college. There was a dog pictured with his face to the second step of a staircase (incidentally the title of the book is Face to Face with the Second Step). The quote below it read...and as I can't find the exact quote this may just be the basic idea behind it...:
I'm leaving my mood blank. Not because I don't have one, mainly because I have too many at any given time right now.
I haven't blogged in 3 months. I haven't done much of anything I'm proud of in three months. In fact I'm not sure I've really done ANYTHING in three months.
Life has a funny way of getting away from you. I suspect all of us feel this way at some point or another. I certainly feel that way now. In November my graduating high school class celebrated our 10 year reunion. 10 years? How did that time just disappear?
For the past few days I've been doing some pretty serious self reflection. I've made some choices recently which forced my hand in the self examination arena. Which, at my best moments, I am truly thankful for.
I'm probably not a bad person. I'm certainly not the worst person to live...but I don't feel like a good person either. I don't feel good about myself. In the last 8 hours or so I've realized I can continue to feel that way or I can continue to do the painful work of continuing to look at who I am. Who I want to be. And I want to be good. I want to be somebody that my husband and stepson and parents and siblings are proud of. I want to be somebody that I am proud of.
This takes work. And it takes a starting place. I have no idea where to begin. But I am reminded of a quote from an art book I loved reading in college. There was a dog pictured with his face to the second step of a staircase (incidentally the title of the book is Face to Face with the Second Step). The quote below it read...and as I can't find the exact quote this may just be the basic idea behind it...:
Still, you know you have to start somewhere. And asking a question is as good a place as any even if you KNOW the for now, silence is all you will hear.
Friends, readers, internet land...that's where I am. I have nothing but questions. Some that I've imposed upon myself. Others that I ponder. Many that may never be met with anything but silence.
I'd like to say that THIS time I will ask all the scary and hard questions. God, life, science, nature, politics...ALL those life questions. I won't. But that's okay. As long as I can start to ask the questions I need to in order to discover my truth...I'm going to be okay. As long as I ask questions that keep leading myself and my family forward in a positive direction I'm okay. And as long as I keep getting up, breathing in and out, and putting one foot in front of the other I'm okay.
I pray you are too during this holiday season. I am going to try to return to my nice things daily routine of blogging. I need that for myself. And it was nice to know others cared and were reading.
Blessings.
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