Homebody

I am a homebody.

I don't like to go out much. I don't like to be drug all over heck & creation for "special events" or any other reason. I like my home, my family and my space.

I like making the rules and having some control over what happens and when.

This tendency often causes me to be a less than stellar daughter, sister, Daughter-in-law or even (I'm ashamed to admit) friend.

I know a large part of it is from years of divorced parents and driving everywhere for holidays and never having a moment's peace. I know some of it is a desire to create a sense of order and calm for myself and my kids. I know some of it is habit, and some is simply me being stubborn.

I can't really make myself like going places or doing stuff outside my comfort zone, but I can DO them in an effort to be more like the me I want to be.

Maybe a trip or visit now and then is good for me. Is it ok if I pick when I go?

Paper on my horizon

I am going to play with paper today. I have a sort of paper problem. I love patterned paper- but nothing "Cute".

Doodlebug- YUK. KI Memories- BLECK. Sassafrass Lass- NOT for me. American Crafts (paper only) MUCH too cute. BoBunny-I don't do cute.


Give me paper with a little attitude, a little edge. Give me paper from designers that know my life isn't frills and such- it's a mess. With dirt, and grunge and colors outside the primary family.
Give me stuff like:

Basic Grey (I LOVE BG. I am way behind on collections, but I've only seen 2 or 3 I truly did not like)

K & Company. (I can never predict what they'll come up with next. They've gone from heritage to funky and a whole lot more.)

Daisy D's. Cosmo Cricket. (These two are more kit or miss, but their accessories and "fun stuff" always make me smile.)

I'm not any fabulous artist or anything, but I love the papers and the colors. I love thinking about what I can do with them. I can't wait!

My overworked oven

I am not traditional at all when it comes to holidays, especially not involving food.

I am not doing a turkey because TallBoy does not LIKE turkey and The Dude doesn't like bird on the bone, and SweetPea and I only like white meat. A whole turkey would be a waste and a breast roast would only feed 3 of us. No ham because TallBoy and The Dude do not like it either.

I sort of make it my "tradition" to make NON-traditional Thanksgiving day dinner. In Thanksgivings past, I have made lasagne, meatloaf, pot roast, steak and applesauce chicken (a family favorite).

This year I am making stew, mashed potatoes, an Asian inspired salad, home made bread and shortbread. With a pot of spaghetti for anyone that might not care for stew- a distinct possibility with TallBoy. We also have some friends coming over, and their girl is about 8 and not always reliable about what she eats. I like to at least TRY to have options.

I am trying to do most, if not all, of the preparation/cooking stuff tonight so that I can let the crockpot do the work and sleep in. When you have to be up no later than 5 am every day, sleeping in is a luxury I do NOT want to waste.

So I baked my shortbread and my home made bread tonight. My poor oven is very put out with me. But I really don't mind. There's something terribly relaxing and enjoyable about putting together flour, sugar and butter and getting some of the tastiest stuff ever out of it.

I think that's what I like best about the holidays- time to actually cook and enjoy myself.

Happy Thanksgiving- and I'm giving my oven a rest.

Y, Oh, Y

TallBoy came over to me and was acting extremely affectionate and lovey and things today. So I returned said affections, hugging and kissing and generally enjoying the bigness of this boy of mine because I love this guy. He's great. Annoying at times, but truly great. He disengages, smiles, says, "I love you", I reply in kind, and then departs for his room.

As he is headed to his room, I hear him snickering to himself. And I am *very* suspicious, *very* suddenly.

Then it hits me.

He has mastered the art of the "hit&run" as it's known at our house- the laying of a silent gaseous cloud so fierce I nearly retch, and get this:

He thinks it's funny.

I really do have 3 brothers, so I should be used to it by now, but *really* . My own son!

I need to go scrub out my nose. And invest in a lot of Glade.

I do love him- I mentioned that, right?

Promises - and rope

Warning! This post will probably pretty serious and a little sad. I will get back to my weird sense of humor and positive attitude next post. Thank you!
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I had a lot of sadness in my childhood. Despite my mother's very best attempts, we were poor. At one point, she was single with 3 young kids, no job and no place to live. The places she could find to live were too expensive or too small. As her world came crashing down around her, she wrangled up what little courage she had left and asked her friends and extended family for ideas (not money- ideas). She wound up deciding to have us stay with people she knew and trusted for a little while while she got on her feet. I went to stay with a long time trusted friend in Texas for a summer. My brothers went to stay with someone else in Tennessee. (The third brother came MUCH later in my life.)

I know she did what she thought was best and it had to kill her daily not to have us nearby. I know she must have cried and worked her hardest to get us back as fast as she could.

All I understood was that my mom was sending me away, to someone I didn't know terribly well, and I didn't have my brothers with me.

When we returned, we were different. All of us- my mother included. But one of my two brothers had serious issues. My mom tried to overlook it, but I truly think he was seriously harmed by the person she trusted to care for him.

As the years went on, my brother's issues only increased and worsened. Medicine, therapy, discipline-nothing worked to help him improve. My mother was told that my brother was a sociopath and that there was 'no hope' for him to have a normal life. She was encouraged (strongly) to put him into a home. My mother struggled with my brother for years and refused to give up hope that he could change. She fought with doctors and experts and moved-a LOT- in attempts that new surroundings would help, new doctors would help- that ANYTHING would help. She finally had to give up on him at one point and forced him to move out. He went to live with my dad for a while, and my dad went through many of the same issues. Nothing worked to change my brother, and my dad gave up too.



Because of my experiences and what I witnessed with my brother, I promised myself as a mother that I would never - NEVER - give up on my kids. I would never ask someone else to take on MY responsibility. I would never separate my kids or send them away. I promised myself that I would do whatever necessary to keep my pain from repeating.

I recently heard that the father of a young girl I am close to and love very dearly gave her up to someone else. This girl has been through much more trauma than I have ever experienced and is seriously troubled. She has many complicated issues that need to be worked through, with medication, therapy and perhaps surgery. Despite all her many -very serious- problems, she is a sweet and trusting girl. She's beautiful, lively, fun and energetic even with all her concerns.

Her father has admittedly done a lot for this girl that in many ways is above and beyond. I honestly saw signs of improvement and maybe even hope the last time I was with this young girl. However, I'd heard that very recently things had gotten extremely bad and they had temporarily placed her in a psychiatric ward. Her father finally got to a point where he could not handle the girl or her problems any more and has placed her in someone else's care.

Maybe he really thinks this is the best thing for her. Maybe he hopes that new surroundings, new doctors, and a new attitude will help her turn her darkest corner.

Maybe he was at the end of his rope, and he just couldn't hang on any more. He saw a chance for the rest of his family (he has 2 other children at home) to have something closer to a normal life and a way to ease his burden. He accepted the implications of sending one child away and getting his life and house back in order.

I believe this girl deserves better-much better- and there is absolutely nothing I can do for her except pray.

I honestly thought I was at the end of my rope with TallBoy recently. I know in the large scheme of things, grades are just grades, but I have been having the battle since he was in first grade. It's taxing and it hurts me to be the strict parent, to say 'no' to him. Outside of grades he is a wonderful boy- he's loving, respectful, considerate, fairly responsible and generous to a fault. I didn't want to give up on him just yet but I knew I was getting close to the end of my rope. I didn't know what to do, except pray.

Some financial things have been going on at our house that are pretty scary and I was at the end of my rope there, too. I'm far too proud for my own good and couldn't feel comfortable asking for any kind of help and just didn't know what to do. Except pray.

Thursday, I saw a reply to a post about grades at TwoPeasInABucket, a message board I like to read. It wasn't directed at or to me, but it was literally the hand of G-d putting a knot in my rope, and telling me "hold on-there's hope". The reply was the best idea I've ever seen for TallBoy's problems in YEARS and it's DOABLE. It's something my Dude and I feel comfortable with and believe will WORK. The knot at the end of my rope was desperately needed and came at just the right time.

Friday, a new way of looking at our financial situation arrived. It made the knot that I'd been hanging onto just that much larger and stronger, and gave me a little room to breathe. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until that room came, and I just let it all out, and I felt like me again.

Every family has different promises and different ropes- but hold on. There's hope. If you're ever at the end of your rope, let me know. I'll do what I can to help- and pray.

choosing church

My church issues are many fold. Some are due to my childhood- an ultra-liberal environment with almost no boundaries. Some are due to my life stage. Some are due to trial and error of what I want and don’t. And some are just me.

Stuff I love about church (in general, doesn’t matter which variety):

The people. People that are involved in your life, care about you, pray for you, celebrate your victories and much much more. When you have a group of people you can count on, there’s nothing like it. It really is FAMILY.

Activities. Bible study. Small groups. Prayer meetings. Hotdish or potluck suppers. Field trips. Speakers. Reading as a collective. Churches can have some of the best free (or close to it) activities available, and many of them offer great chances for personal growth.

Charity. Churches, more often than not, get it right in helping others. Most of the time they know when someone needs help, friends, a quiet ear, or a hand in getting things back together.

Stuff I hate about church (in general, doesn’t matter which variety):

Getting out of bed on Sunday morning. It’s just wrong. It doesn’t help that the Dude works from 12-12 on Sundays and he’s warm, and comfortable, and I don’t have a day off with him, and leaving means less time with him. If I leave at 8:30, I don’t see him for the rest of the day and it’s difficult to do.

Money/Giving. What, or if, I give is up to me. It’s personal, and private. I have a hard time with giving in church (unless it’s cash, and that’s a whole different story) because ultimately, someone sees it. I already deal with guilt (lots of Catholics in my family despite the ultra-liberal upbringing) and I never feel that I am doing “enough”. When a giving campaign starts, I usually hide. And don’t get me started on $15 classes, plus books or $5 donation (after I bring food and plates) for the chili dinner (and it is NOT for charity).

Finding the right place. It’s a tough thing to find the right people, the right environment, and the right activities. Many people ‘church-hop’ for months or a year before they find their “home church”. I have tried a lot of churches and thought I found the ‘one’ but things (or maybe it was me) changed and I had to start all over again.

-I was facing this about 6 months to a year ago.

I had been attending our area's version of a "mega-church" (about 2500) and was not very happy with just a couple things. However these couple things were non-negotiable for me.

My friends invited me to their church, and so I went (I figured I would at least respect their opinion and try it). Their church is 300 people MAX! It has been a major change for me. I really love the PEOPLE. It's like a big family- people that are genuinely invested in me & my kids, and pray for me etc.

The pastor is very passionate, and I enjoy him most of the time. But man, he is LOUD. I'm so accustomed to "talking" ministers that a pastor that gets excited and uses his voice is a new thing to me.

The worship is really different too. The other church was a young, contemporary church with a worship band that played up to date, modern music. This new church is a much older congregation and the music reflects that.

But a big plus is the teen ministry. Their teen pastor is truly gifted and loves young people. He's really gotten my kids to "buy in" and is really tuned into their lives. I can't say enough about his impact. I wish I could go to their services, because I like him that much.

While I don’t know if this place is my “home church”, it’s where I think I am supposed to be for now. I’m really growing in faith, and I have friends and “family” that I feel comfortable asking the “hard questions” with. I can let myself be me, and know that I won’t be judged. I really value the safety. I value the emphasis on G-d and Biblical teachings. I value the people.

Acts was all about the regular people moving on with their lives and building Christianity after Christ’s death. It’s my favorite book in the New Testament, because it clearly illustrates how church happened (through people, meeting in each other’s homes, praying for each other and sharing equally in their talents and abilities), and the good it did.

On a note more about form than function, what was this guy doing inside my head?
Almost every point he brings up here about the “younger generation” and “new way of doing church” is right on point (for ME anyway) and illustrates the so-called flaws I see in traditional church. It’s fascinating, and it was really important for me to see someone else understand some of my hesitations with “organized church”, but able to explain it better.

It’s probably the best explanation of the kind of thinking that can drive away people that are interested in Christ or church, but get bogged down in details. A lot of it directly relates to a book the church I am attending recently studied, but really hits the points more clearly and in more detailed fashion.

from Our Daily Bread by Mart De Haan
Oct 27th

Over the past decade there has been growing controversy about “a new way of doing church.”

The debate has been generational in nature. Many of our sons and daughters are forming or joining congregations that don’t look or sound like our kind of church. Yet, they are likely to tell us that they are just trying to be authentic followers of Jesus and that many of us have been unfair in our criticism of them. See, for instance, New Zealander Andrew Jones’ eloquent defense of these emerging groups at “What I Would Say to the Young American Emerging Churches.”

The emergent phenomena, however, has been marked by bad blood. Some members of the traditional church have characterized these communities as critical, culturally obsessed, biblically illiterate, and more interested in taking the church apart than in building it.

From where I sit, seems to me that what is needed is the kind of wisdom that some of the first church leaders showed when they called in Paul and Barnabas and listened to their story (Acts 15). Here’s some of what I think we would hear.

Many emerging churches affirm:

The tri-unity of God as a basis for valuing community rather than self-centered individualism.

Faith as a conversation and a journey rather than just a declaration and decision.

Taking a “both/and” rather than an “either/or” approach to eternal salvation and social involvement; the letters of Paul and the Gospels of Jesus; our church and the kingdom of God.

Seeing the church as a movement rather than just an organization.

A desire to reach a generation largely untouched by traditional churches.

Valuing creativity and variety in worship styles.

Seeing spiritual leadership as a matter of example rather than authority and control.

A willingness to think through the doctrines of the church rather than just taking for granted that their parents generation had it right.

Living the Bible rather than just studying and defending it.

Seeing not only the truth of God but also the mystery.

It’s important to understand, however that these values will often be expressed as a reaction to and sense of disillusionment with the churches of their parents’ generation.

Emerging communities often take issue with:

Emphasizing the letters of Paul while ignoring the Gospels of Jesus.

Condemning homosexuality and abortion while ignoring sins of pride, racial prejudice, greed, divisiveness, and hypocrisy.

Defending doctrinal statements with anger and intimidation rather than with reason.
Regarding arguable or possible implications of the Bible as absolutes and tests of orthodoxy.

Interpreting the Bible as if it was written in our generation rather trying to understand what it meant in the times in which it was written.

Preoccupation with prophetic scenarios while ignoring the needs of poverty and justice within our own church families and communities.

Following male leadership that does not include or respect the needs and thoughts of women.

Seeing church authority as a matter of hierarchy and control rather than example and servant attitudes.

Viewing the church as an institution rather than as a community.

Focusing on unchanging forms of worship rather than fresh expressions that reflect continual renewal.

Attempts to marry the church to political power.

Emphasis on professional clergy rather than encouraging whole-church participation.

A failure of the traditional church to confront abusive patriarchy, warfare, and injustice.

Efforts of the church to bring people in rather than going out to them.

Outreach that sounds angry and condemning rather than embodying the attitudes and methods of Jesus.

Teaching that focuses on texts and doctrines rather than on the story and stories of the Bible.

Church leaders who cater to rich and powerful members

Use of a code-language (church jargon) that self-identifies and self-authenticates insiders while remaining confusing or misleading to those outside of Christ.

Attempts to maintain a theology that doesn’t leave room for the mystery of God

I got pretty long winded there (that’s what loquacious means) just to say I’m just as confused as I was when I started, but it’s ok because I have friends and a church “family”. Whew.

home WORK

I love my kids more than breath and all that good stuff.

My TallBoy is apparently intent on inventing or discovering as many possible ways to make me completely aggravated if not downright MAD in as short a time as possible.

He has been going through a growth spurt (AGAIN!) and so is all grumpy and generally miserable. I feel some compassion for him because the poor guy keeps banging his legs on the railings of his loft bed as he sleeps in addition to growth pains.

He's also doing his pretty typical bored as heck gifted kid dance, and I have totally lost patience with this sorry state of affairs. His grades and effort (or lack of it) towards them has me completely stymied me in every possible way. I recently checked his grades online and discovered a class with a single digit percentage for his overall grade. I try to be pretty relaxed and understanding but completely failed at this endeavor after this information.

I know I have to let him make his own mistakes and deal with his own consequences. I know that this is his future and his responsibility. However being his mother and knowing he's capable of much more than a single digit percentage or "skating by" in several other classes is enough to bring about my more forceful and authoritative nature.

Consequences mean I have to enforce them, though. And man, that can be a lot of work.

We haven't had the TV on since Monday, and I didn't realize how much I could get done with it off. I have cooked dinner 3 times this week (a genuine miracle, I tell you) and laundry, dishes and vacuuming have gotten done as well. There might be something to the "turn your TV off" week after all.

yeah, more housework...

as much as I grumble, I like the results. But sticking to it has been a test.

Maybe TallBoy will actually PASS a test, too?

Confessions from a Former Crunchy momma

I have a wonderful, but very activist, mom.

My kid life was spent working at various charities & organizations my mom believed very firmly in until I could not longer qualify as "free child labor" (mostly a joke). I have pictures of her car driving a mascot for one of her favorite groups through the 4th of July parade 4-5 years running. I worked behind the counter of the local vegetarian/alternative coffeehouse as a kid. I worked the Pepsi stand at carnivals for a group to raise money for its programs. I rolled spare change for our church UNICEF drive.

While we were not vegetarians, we lived close to it due to being very broke. I learned a lot about slow, whole, organic, local and "fair trade" food WAY before it was trendy. I helped my mom's friend load his wagon for the farmer's market on a regular basis in exchange for free range eggs. I know several (good) recipes for rice & beans. I have planted, weeded, pollinated and harvested a home garden.

I have 3 younger brothers and my mom nursed all of them (and me). She also cloth diapered, made home made baby food and scoured garage sales for baby items.

My mom was a fabulous seamstress. She took in mending, tailoring & alterations at times for extra money. She made her own clothes on a regular basis. She made MY clothes fairly often. My first dress was handmade by mom as a reward for learning to walk. My wedding dress was lovingly made and given as a present from my mother. She tried in vain to teach me the art of fabric, but I have hands that refused to cooperate. I never got the hang of it. (I'm wishing I had because I could sure use those skills now!)

I learned how to recycle, re-use and reduce everything. I knew from an early age that tin foil was like gold and had a million uses. I used jelly jars for glasses. Old things were made new again with the wave of my mom's hand, some duct tape, sewing or cussing.

I learned some self-sufficiency from her. Mom changed her own oil until I was about 12, and she made me learn how. I learned to change a tire. I learned to make my own bread. I learned how to pick the best vegetables & fruits at the market. I learned how to garage sale with the best of them. I learned that the library is one of the best riches on the planet.


These experiences lead the way for me to become a fairly "crunchy" momma.

I did the whole natural child birth, nursing & cloth diapering thing. I made my own baby food for a while until my kiddos ate table scraps. I bought nothing new. I scoured the thrift stores for all sort of things. Most of my furniture is garage sale, estate sale, hand-me-down, or side of the road finding. I shopped Aldi, around the "outside" of the store, at the farmer's market, clipped coupons, etc.

I didn't have a car for the first 6 months or so of my son's life, and then when I did have one, the Dude drove it to work and I stayed home. I took the bus to the grocery store, the laundromat, the library, the park, my in-laws and more.

There came a time when I just couldn't take scraping and saving and considering every choice any more. I needed convenience. I needed a break. I had 2 kids at home and the Dude was working 60+ hours a week. I had no car and no more patience. I started to buy "processed food". I bought something brand new. Something frivolous and wasteful, too.

Some of this had to do with ability- I was finally able to afford such things. Some of it had to do with interest in living the 'whole earth/green' lifestyle. I had none.

I don't want to change the world through activism, through chasing every penny and every scrap that comes into my home. I don't want to break down barriers, or right too many wrongs- at least not through protest and petitions.

I want to change the world through my awesome children, who are talented, fun, respectful and mostly well behaved. I want to change the world through being a fabulous wife in a loving and committed marriage. I want to change the world through kindness and compassion to the many young men in my circle of friends. Through taco nights, birthday cakes, cookies, Halo parties, fudge and friendship. I want to change the world by being the best example of love and generosity I know how- to my friends, my family and to the immediate world around me. I know it's not a "big plan". I know it won't reach people in China, or make those in Washington reconsider. But it's what I am willing, able and gifted to do.

There are days when I wonder if I am not living up to my mother's hopes and dreams for my life. I wonder if she didn't hope I'd be some big shot lawyer crusading for the "common good". (I still think about becoming a lawyer, but I'm not sure I have the dedication for 10 years of school at this point.) I wonder if I'm being selfish, wasteful and inconsiderate. I wonder if I'm taking the easy way out. Sometimes that idea really bothers me and hurts my heart.

I don't have all the answers and I don't know if there *is* an answer to this and many other problems. But I know I'm doing the best I can, with what I've been given-

and some new stuff I bought at the store.

In the middle

I live in Illinois, a Democratic state- a byproduct of the "Chicago Machine".

Yesterday was election day, and here, like everywhere, people went out to vote. I do my best to vote in every election, even small primaries that don't make a large impact.

Despite my parents' best efforts, (my mother was a far left activist, and my dad is a vocal libertarian)I am a middle of the road kind of lady- not far left or far right. I have voted both Democratic and Republican. I have voted for and against taxes, bonds, improvement funds and much more. If you look at my life time of voting, it's pretty split down the middle. One of the major reasons for this is my tolerance for others, along with my willingness to listen to all ideas and weigh them equally.

I was honestly torn on who to vote for this time around. I was one of those rare "undecided" voters- but because I live in Illinois, my vote was not fought over or cherished like those of an Ohioan or Virginian.


I didn't take voting lightly- I knew that this was a serious choice and no matter my decision, the world I live in would change dramatically. And this time, it would be as a participant and not an observer.

I watched the Columbia Disaster- in school.

I watched Perestroika and Glasnost, the Berlin Wall coming down and the Russian Bloc falling apart on itself. I remember my dad forcing me to stay up, watching CNN until the wee hours of the morning, and him telling me- "this is history".

I watched as Yitzak Rabin was assassinated and the hopes for Palenstinian-Israeli peace crumble before my eyes. I remember crying, and none of my friends understood why.

I watched the US in Kuwait and Iraq the first time and counting hours (not months or years) that it lasted.

I knew I had valid reasons both for and against each candidate.

As I mentioned, I'm from Illinois. One large concern against Obama was who would be placed into his position by our largely unpopular governor, who has a history of using power & influence to reward (and punish) those around him. It wasn't until voting was under way that our governor announced that he would have a council appoint Obama's potential replacement. For Obama were other factors- but they had about the same weight as my concern.

My brother is a disabled veteran, and McCain's sacrifice is incredibly personal, and deeply touching to me. McCain's body took the brunt of an aggressor's dislike, distrust, and anger towards our nation. McCain returned home not disillusioned, but empowered and invested in our country. McCain's years in the service provides him a deep and powerful understanding of our military. His experience in understanding situation reports and information from our commanding officers on the ground would offer invaluable insight and wisdom in the coming years in Iraq. Against McCain were other factors- but they held about the same weight as my concern.


I went about educating myself on both candidates and did the best I could with the tools I had- the power of a personal touch.

I worked for 5 years at our local paper. My desk happened to be in the open air atrium/lobby area, and I was often the 1st or 2nd person the public saw when they entered our building. Our local paper serves a major college area, and the outlying rural communities surrounding it.

Many political candidates come through our area to woo the "downstate" vote (and we're well south of I-80, so we count). When they do so, they often stop at our paper and meet with our editorial board, hoping for endorsement.

I know a politician's "job" is to be friendly and court voters, to be personable and to impress those they meet. I can tell you from personal experience that it does not always work that way. More candidates (or press secretaries) than I can count were rude, snippy, dismissive and mean to the wonderful receptionist at our paper. Many of them treated her (and me) with truly ugly behavior and turned on the charm when the board came to meet them.

I met Senator Obama WAY back in 2002 or early 2003, when he was a complete unknown in our area. He visited with our receptionist, with me, and with countless others in the office. He was poised, classy, friendly, and interested in our questions about his platform and experience. He treated us with kindness.

I've met many local Republicans who campaigned vigorously for McCain. They were truly willing to offer me insight, consideration, information and generosity with their time. Most of them were beyond kind, offering gentle but effective arguments for their candidate.

I found myself yet again, in the middle.

And I left the polling place, I was no different. My ballot this year was split almost entirely evenly- I voted for one tax and against another. I voted for Democrats and Republicans. I voted to retain judges and to remove one. I felt confident I had done my best with the tools I had, and I went home to wait, and watch.

About 10pm, I found myself in the middle of the stream of history, watching my neighbors (because Chicago is not THAT far) celebrate, and the world changing around me. I shared with my children how special a moment like this is- and then we went to bed.