Gratia - Gratus

Although I'm not particularly thankful that I'm awake at 3a.m. (because of a certain sweet little 1 year old who will remain nameless), the thought of gratitude has been rolling around in my head the last couple of days, and after such a long period of ingratitudo, I'm compelled to record something new. Hence, the picture at the left of the Thanksgiving Turkey in January.

Yesterday, I actually felt fully thankful and appreciative of my life - right here and now. In Hyde Park. In the middle of Mike's grad school. At an uninspiring job. I try to articulate my thankfulness each day, and in my head I know we are blessed, but it's rare that I've really felt it lately. So here I was, mulling over a conversation I had just had with a friend, and browsing a stranger's blog, and it hit me. I am truly blessed. I have my hands full with two girls, but I don't get lonely or bored because I have so many wonderful friends, neighbors and acquaintances that we see and play with regularly who are my constant source of support. We live in a tiny apartment, but we live in such a rich and full environment and neighborhood. We don't have much extra money for traveling or entertainment, but for the moment, I have a job that allows us to pay for what we need. I'd rather not leave my girls for 20+ hours/week, but it's a flexible 20+ hours. No commute. I'm a little sheepish that this all hit me after comparing my situation to other moms - one who lives in a lovely house in suburbia with no mom friends around, and the other who gets to stay home with her babies, but is wondering how they will pay for food this month. But I often look at my situation in light of others' situations, and it usually doesn't matter. I still think about how things could be better, different, in my life. Anyway, it just feels good to finally experience in my heart and emotions what I know to be true in my head.

I love reading other mom's blogs when I get a chance, which is not nearly enough. Some I enjoy for their writing style, or their sarcasm, or because they are friends who I don't see enough and I just want to keep up on their life. Two mom-friend blogs that I've been enjoying have each, in their own way and style, dedicated 2009 to focus on a particular word - one chose passion, and one chose gratitude. Both are refreshing, honest and focus UP.

Emerging

After a week of negative numbers on the thermostat, sickness and pain in the apartment, and a general feeling of being overwhelmed by it all, we are, finally, emerging. A couple mornings playing with little friends brought some lightness and laughter, and two evenings of meals made by big friends went a long way to instill a feeling of warmth and calm at dinner time. Without the extra prep time and dishes to manage, we were all able to get to bed a little earlier. Our colds are going away, and the weather has been nice enough to play outside again. We even ventured out Saturday for Music Together, and then again today for story time at 57th Street Bookstore with our neighbors. Afterward, we had an impromptu picnic at Kyla's for lunch before I rushed off to work.

Nourit and Abigail - Monet and Renoir


Arms and fingers are part of the canvas, too!

Making cookies with Viola and Kubi

It's surprising, too, how the air feels just a bit lighter now that we have a new commander-in-chief leading us. It feels like our country is ours again, and not completely out of our control.

And there's that word again. After a couple weeks of good conversations, prayer, and doctor's visits, the knot is loosening and things don't seem so bad today.

Happy New Year

It's 10:30 and we just got back from a wonderful New Year's Eve party at Marsha's home. Marsha, (of Marsha's Music Together fame,) is the most amazing person. Children love her, including my own. Nourit couldn't wait to go to her party, eat, sing and dance, which is just what we did. (Okay, we ate, sang, and lounged on couches and car seats, but Nourit grabbed Marsha from behind and danced with her a bit!) I have been such a grouch for the past few months of 2008 that I couldn't imagine having fun at a party with two girls after 6pm. It was a relaxed and fun time, though, and the best part was singing along to piano and guitar - and I'm not talking about a Wii Rock Band.

So in an hour and a half, we'll say goodbye to 2008. Hopefully Nourit will be sleeping by then (she's on her third or fourth book with her dad right now) and so will I. For the past few years at Christmas, many friends send letters outlining their activities from the past year. We've done that, too, the past year or so. This year, I had no such inclination. It's not that it was a terrible year - it was just fatiguing. And I'm too tired to look backward. So forward it is - into 2009!

Although I love lists, I've refrained from listing any New Year's Resolutions for quite awhile. I guess I just don't want to be disappointed when I can't even make it out of the gate on any of them. This year, however, I'm so in need of a change -a change in my energy level, a change in my mental state, a change in my attitude - that I just want to write down all the things I'm looking forward to revamping as a sort of hopeful gesture. I know our circumstances aren't about to change much. It's going to be another busy, frantic year, just trying to make deadlines, making sure the babies are taken care of properly, and making ends meet. So here is a list I will publish for all the world to see (or at least my dad), and hopefully it will make me a little more accountable, or serve as a reminder to be hopeful and forward-looking, at the very least.

1) Pray without ceasing. And try to snatch some quiet time whenever possible. This one is a continuation of, well, my entire life's aim. I wrote about it in a season of expectancy this past year, but the quiet time always seems to elude me. I have no problem praying continually. The problem is my prayer is more like a constant drone. With two little girls, a job, and a husband who is busy, time is at a premium. If I can be successful at this one thing, I think it will a) contribute to success at the rest of my list, and b) be directly from God.

2) Go slow. er. I always feel like there is too much to do to slow down. The reality is, there is too much to do. If I go slow, though, and spend more time and attention on the project at hand, then maybe the things that go un-done will end up not mattering quite so much. If it's the housework that goes undone, though, I'm not sure I will be able to function. So now it's time to look for a new cleaning person.

I'll have to refrain from scheduling too much, as well, which is difficult. I really have cut way back on as much as possible, at the expense of things I really enjoy. It's hard to cut back on visiting friends and making playdates, though, because I need the support (and commiseration) of other moms, and Nourit is definitely at a social stage in her life. But when I have to go from bible study to work, and I'm yelling at Nourit to get going, something has to give.

3) Play the piano and listen to more music. This has gone the way of my yoga practicing intentions as well. I need to exercise to feel whole. I also need to make music to feel whole. Unfortunately, those things get short shrift and it's always, "Later, later." Later hasn't arrived yet. I may have to work out a time once or twice a week to have the babysitter stay so I can start working out my fingers again and remember what it is that I'd like to do in this lifetime.

4) Love my husband more. I love my husband more than the day I married him. But all the things I vowed when we were first married to always do; kiss him passionately every day, always make him my ally and be his ally, put him first before our kids; all these things have gone by the wayside in the midst of our "life." We spend so much time, energy, and affection on our children that sometimes, there's not a whole lot left to give to each other. We did make an attempt at date night this past quarter, and have one planned for next Friday, so we've got a start!

5) Criticize and judge less. Not to sound selfish, but I mean this about myself. I'm probably the most self-reflective person you'll meet. You may not know it though, because even though I'm the first to recognize my faults, it doesn't necessarily mean I'm good at correcting them. I think, though, that if I can love myself a little more, give myself a break, and try to really see myself as God sees me, then I'll be less prone to hold others to this impossible yard-stick I wield.

I think five is enough for now. There are a few others, like 'Send Christmas Cards Next Year', or 'Take a Family Picture,' or 'Finish Knitting Hats for the Girls.' But that will be another list, for another post. A more fun post. In the meantime, here's to an ambitious 2009!

Memory Loss

Last night, I had the enviable task of snuggling with Nourit in the Ikea chair in her bedroom. Now that Mike is gone from the apartment most days, she stays up later to spend time snuggling with him and they end up having some pretty interesting conversations while I'm in the kitchen doing the dishes, or trying to put Avi to bed. But Mike injured his knee yesterday, rendering him unable to sink into the depths of the chair to snuggle, so the job fell to me.

As we were sitting there, I tried desperately to recall what it was like to hold her there as a baby. I tried to remember how she would look at me while she was nursing, or how she would pull on my long hair (something she still does.) I tried, but all I could come up with were images of photos we'd taken of her when she was an infant, or an articulation of those things - but not the actual memory. I remember in general that she was an easy baby, that I loved our time together when she was nursing, but I can't connect her babyhood looks and actions to her ever-emerging personality at 1 1/2, or 2, or now almost 3 years of age. There's a disconnect somehow. Why can't I recall something I was physically and emotional present for almost constantly?

I look at Avi and am so conscious of the fact that the baby I'm getting to know now might be a completely different little girl. How much of her tenacity in getting my attention, or getting mobile will translate into her character later on? Will I see as many smiles on her face at 3 years of age as I do now? How can I hold on to a moment or two of this evolving and growing person's life?

On a whim, I asked Nourit about memories during her, thus far, short life. Her answer made me laugh to myself, and although I doubt she really remembers things from her infancy, I still have to wonder if a little of it is true.

"Nourit, do you remember being a baby?"

"Yes, I cried because I wanted to eat big-girl food. I cried because I didn't want breastmilk, but I wanted big-girl food."

Ruminating on Thanksgiving 2008

Toddlers - Teenagers - Two A.M. - Turkey - wii Tennis - Tinker Toys - Twenty-eight people for dinner - Turkey again - Tummy ache - kniTTing - southwesT on Time - Time alone to Tinkle the old ivories - TicTacs - Tattoos

It's Monday

Fresh start/clean slate, right? House is tidy, clothes laid out, and we're ready for the week. Ha! I wish! In my dreamiest dreams! No, these days, Monday means a list of 'to do's' swirling in my head all the way to work. It means relegating the mess to the closets until the piano students have come and gone on Tuesday, and Cassia can restore our feng shui on Wednesday.

It also means I've forgotten all the wonderful things that happened between my last post and today. I read once that a silence in a journal can be more telling than the actual writing. Well, my silence tells me that we were really busy. Or tired. Or both.

Avi, my sweet faced little baby, will now be named Crazy Tooth. She can't nurse enough, and when she does - OUCH! I'm trying to have her sleep in bed with me at night - on purpose this time, and not just reactively. I just feel so strongly that she should be next to me right now. I'm not sure how long we'll continue this, but at least until I'm convinced she'll be better off alone. (I'm just not convinced yet, no matter how many times she scrapes her teeth on my...) Anyway, in church yesterday, Pastor Joe was trying to garner signatures for the Nursery Schedule. "The kids don't bite," he said, trying to get the frightened non-parents in the congregation to volunteer. Mike and I immediately pointed to Avi and spoke simultaneously, "This one does!" Later, during our coffee time following service, I saw Joe's eyes get huge as he saw Avi lunge at me and get a swatch of my shirt in between her teeth. She's cute, but she's dangerous.

And Nourit. Our funny, funny-faced Nourit. I need a recorder on me all the time to catch the wonderful things she comes up with. We spend a good deal of time 'training' her (disciplining, for those with stronger stomachs.) But we also spend a good deal of time laughing at/with/because of her. She comes up with funny sayings and funny moves, and there was a moment this weekend where all four of us were on the floor in the hall, and whatever it was she was doing, we just laughed and laughed. Even Avi. I can't remember what she said or did, but I hope this impression will be forever etched in my memory. Here's another, involving our little neighbor, Abigail.

Dueling Toddlers
Nourit had been talking about Abigail all Saturday afternoon. She was wrapping pretend presents for her, and was looking forward to seeing her again. That evening, while we ate dinner, Abigail went outside to play. Nourit barely touched her food while she had a one-sided conversation with her older friend out the window. (Okay, there were alot of wilted greens on that night's menu, which could have accounted for part of it.) Finally, I said we could go outside and she put on her sandals in record time. As soon as she got outside, Abigail, was just as excited that her friend had arrived to play. The girls both raced for the swings and I pushed them while Abigail's dad was grilling their supper. Then Abigail began to sing softly. She had about 3 or 4 songs from VBS that she circulated through. Nourit began to sing, too, her own stream-of-consciousness composition. Abigail got to the second song and began to sing louder. Nourit upped her volume, too. By the third song, accompanied by the screech of the two swings, Abigail sounded like a bible-pounding preacher - YES, JESUS LOVES ME! and Nourit's melodies were getting quite a bit more angular and just plain loud. I asked them if they wanted to go play in the sandbox, and off they went happily - two little friends, playing side by side. The end.

Mike and I had a quick conversation this afternoon as he stopped by my work for a minute. We worry about Nourit being with a babysitter more often this year. This morning, she kept pushing us with her usual attention-getting experiments on the baby, knowing we were running around and trying to get out the door. But I didn't see any of that when I got home today. She had had a wonderful time with Jessica, who I feel so blessed to have in our life right now. She's all of 21, and has more love and energy than anyone I know, and can juggle both of the girls quite successfully. She had put Avi down in her crib for a nap (at this point, she's been in there for almost 2 hours. That just doesn't happen for me!) and Nourit just had pure joy in her eyes as she tried to practice the fish-lip face in the mirror that Jessica had shown her today. After Jessica left with the promise to come back tomorrow, Nourit and I snuggled and read books before she calmly and happily went off for a nap.

Dedicating Avital

Yesterday we had a small, but important ceremony dedicating Avi to God and our Christian way of life. We did the same thing with Nourit while Jim Smith was pastor, and are happy to be committing Avi two years later under Pastor Joe. It's not something we did in the Church of Christ where I grew up, and it's nothing like infant baptism. It's simply a public declaration on the part of us as parents to raise our children in the love and knowledge of our Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ, our Savior. It's also a commitment on the part of our church to help us do this within a Christian community.

It was such a short ceremony - most rituals and ceremonies in our faith and culture seem to be that way - and I tried to grasp how meaningful it really was in that quick moment. We are declaring that the most important thing for our children isn't their health, education or future happiness, but their relationship with God. That's pretty counter-cultural these days, and I know it will take more than one declaration of commitment to ensure they grow up knowing the peace, love and protection that God promises.

I've been praying for Nourit and Avital since they were both in the womb, and will for the rest of our lives. The harder part for me is to know how to "fix the words of (God) in (our) hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on (our) hands and bind them on (our) foreheads. (How to) teach them to (our) children, talking about them when (we) sit at home and when (we) walk along the road, when (we) lie down and when (we) get up." Deuteronomy 11:18-19. It's easy for me to talk to my girls about music, or how to get dressed, or to think imaginatively, but quite a bit more difficult for me to express myself genuinely about matters of faith. It's like French for me - I can speak it fluently in my head, but I stutter when it crosses my lips.

Something That Disturbs Me

It's a little freaky to me that the ice-cream truck down the street from us plays Christmas carols.

All summer.

Maybe they got a deal on a soundtrack from a Floridian ice-cream truck that runs all year round. That's the only explanation I can come up with.

He Gives Strength to the Weary...

and oh, boy, was I weary this morning. Last night was the worst of the last 5 nights that Mike has been away, and in addition to an insomniac baby, I had a grand mess in the kitchen and rest of the house, so I was ready to lose it. I did lose it. At 4:30 in the morning, I hadn't slept more than 2 hours total, and I was doing the dishes that were piled in the sink, just so I could hook up the dishwasher and run the dirty dishes through that had been sitting for two days. After all, we would need some plates to eat our hamburger buns on for breakfast. (I left the refrigerator open the night before, so we had no food for breakfast except what was in the freezer. Hamburger buns. Yum.)

Crawling back into bed at 5, Avi still was awake, so I took her with me, ruining the last 4 nights of work to keep her in her crib. She immediately calmed down and fell asleep. And I cried. I hadn't even had an hour to myself since last week, I realized, and I wouldn't have any chance to sleep before the girls would be up for the day. The house needed cleaning, and not just for my comfort. It needed cleaning for our health and safety. We needed food in the refrigerator, and I needed to make sure I had a babysitter for this week, and those following. I needed to prepare for lessons starting, and actually show up at work for real. During the dark hours between night and morning, everything seems insurmountable. I prayed, trying not to feel the usual guilt for feeling sorry for myself. I asked God for supernatural strength, not entirely resigned to a reality in which He'd actually give it to me.

Somewhere between 5:30 and 7:30, I dozed. When Nourit woke up, I coaxed her back into bed with me while I nursed Avi, buying a little more time to just lie still. At 8, she said, "Mommy, it's time to get up." I couldn't imagine how I was going to stand up, much less make it through the day. Driving to the store on such little sleep seemed like a dangerous idea, but staying home all day with a toddler seemed more dangerous.

But I did it. I got up, toasted our hamburger buns and spread peanut butter and jam on them, and began to feel something like optimism. It could possibly be a good day. We could go to the store, I could get a coffee to drink while we shopped. I wouldn't have to call child services on myself after all. And even though there were a few episodes where my fuse almost blew, we made it into the car and to Lincoln Park without a hitch. Nourit had a great time pushing her little cart next to mine, and Avi snoozed in the Moby wrap. We went to the coffee shop, bought groceries, and made it back before the rain came. Then, both girls napped (which hasn't happened in a few days), and somehow, as I write this at 9pm, the house is relatively clean. (I did find a cockroach belly up in the cleaning bucket, but at least I didn't have to chase him down.)

An hour ago, I sat down to find the passage in Isaiah that I have highlighted, and turn to so many times.
"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. (A much bigger job than keeping the pantry stocked.) He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. (Does that mean He can make sense of my irrational, middle-of-the-night thoughts?) He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak."
And even though I know this verse so well that I intentionally looked for it, it really hit me tonight. He gave me that strength today. In my sleep-deprived weakness, He gave me the power to not only make it through the day, but to feel a peace and a joy that at 4:30 in the morning, I thought I would never feel until my children were adults.

Maybe once school starts, I'll even find myself running races and soaring on wings like eagles.

Overwhelmed

When I was 2nd year in college at Central Michigan University, I visited regularly for awhile with the preacher's wife. I was severely depressed, misguided, confused, and I was practically begging for answers. I'll always remember her as being distant in a somewhat "holy" way, sort of dreamy and in the clouds. She didn't help me out much, but there is something she said that always stuck with me. She had two little girls, and she told me that when she'd go in to look at them after they had fallen asleep, she would just be overwhelmed with love. I comprehend that now, 15 years later. It's how I feel these nights that Mike is gone and I'm the last one to go to bed. I open Nourit's door and hear her snoring, and look at this little girl all askew on her bed, and am speechless with love. Then I go to my room and see little Avi's compact form sound asleep on her tummy in her crib and again, my heart just constricts. It's almost unbearable.

God in the Evolutionary Process

I recently read an article in the NYTimes about the delicate balance that one teacher is striking with his Christian students to teach them the science of evolution. This has been such a contentious issue for so many years, so why does it seem so simple to me as a Christian? Why can't my God, who is the most powerful and imaginative being to exist, be the author of the evolutionary process?

I am so reticent to speak aloud about matters of faith and science because I feel so inept in both areas. (Maybe attending church alongside rocket scientists and Old Testament scholars has shown me how much I don't know!) But this is my space to write, and so I will try to make my thoughts as coherent as possible, even if I have reams more to read on both subjects. I know (and hope) that my understanding will deepen with age and experience. Here I am at this point in time, however simplistic.

I have come to understand the bible, more to the point, the Christian Old Testament, in such a different way than I had grasped it growing up. And it makes so much more sense to me, especially Genesis, to understand it as a work of literature. I certainly believe that God is powerful enough to create the world and everything in it within 10,080 minutes. (That counts Him resting.) But to me, it makes more sense that the opening chapters of our Bible tell a story figuratively, and that God created a much more interesting and orderly world over a much longer stretch of time. To me, it makes God appear even bigger and more creative in the way He introduced mammals, etc. (us included) into this universe. He set the laws of nature for some good reason, I think.

But that's not the point for me. The point is, while it is imperative that we do our best to think critically and draw the most logical conclusions, it shouldn't matter to our faith the exact manner in which God created us. God created us. And however He did it, whether He set his stopwatch or took His time, it's an amazing work. Whether his way to create us was to evolve us into the latest model, or to set us down as the prototype, we are here now as we are and we're here to serve and worship him. Regardless of how we got here. Either way is a miracle. And frankly, I believe there is so much that God doesn't tell us so how can any of us presume we know the definitive answer? I think that the more scientific discoveries are made, the more God reveals to us how amazing His creation really is. And how vast His resources are as Creator. Observing the evolutionary process doesn't negate our value as humans. It further unveils an imaginative and brilliant Creator.