Well, the hot water heater blew up. Or did whatever these things do when they give up living. Andrew came home from work and heard something not altogether right - sure enough, the utility room was full of water. Happily it is sunken and so water was prevented from running amok among his belongings and instead has just run under the sub-floor.
This is a moment when I am good in an emergency. No panic, no tears, just a phone call to the insurance company and Oreo cookies to sustain the menfolk while they take out the tank. Lots of soothing talk about how it's not a problem if money can solve it, and how we have money tucked away for exactly these moments anyway (or at least for an installment payment for these moments) and if no one is hurt then bad feelings are not required.
Unfortunately, me being good in an emergency did very little to make the boys feel any better. They're still frustrated and annoyed, as I suppose is to be expected when you spend 2 hours sucking water off the floor and removing tanks and doing whatever it is one does at a time like this.
Which brings us to tonight's theme: the uselessness of being Me.
Okay, that may be a bit bleak, to say nothing of inaccurate. But I have been thinking about how me being good and okay has a lot less sway than me being cranky and mean. It seems that it is much easier to be a force for evil than for good. And perhaps that's not just true for me. Maybe all of us impact others the most with our negatives, while our neutral and very good make very little impact.
I called a friend today to whine about an encounter with another friend. My feelings had been dinged and I wanted someone to say that it was extra terrible. The dinger is lovely and someone whom I enjoy a lot. I have yet to call anyone randomly on a Monday afternoon to tell them that though. I saved the call until I had a flaw to pass along. I'm sure it is a sad reflection on my character, but it also reminds me that it most often our short-comings that are noteworthy, that get passed along. Because they're what do damage, and damage does have to be reported. Just like our hot water heater.
This is juxtaposed against what also seems to be true - it is our good that lives, long after our bad has died. With very few exceptions, despite many, many difficult situations with room-mates, bosses, co-workers, church connections and friends (to say nothing of family and husbands), I carry in my heart only good memories of people. I mean, once we get a goodly distance away. A few years past some pretty dismal episodes with some important people who I thought I would dislike for eternity, I find myself instead full of fondness and goodwill when I think of them.
So our bad is our most vivid self in the present but our good is our lasting impression?
Huh. Not what I was thinking I'd write about, but there you go.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
No Pictures.
The only time I'm motivated to post is when I'm in front of the TV while Scott is at work and I've got the laptop in my... well, lap. Then I don't post though, because I have no photos on this computer to add to the dialogue and I'm pretty sure most of you are checking in to see the children, and to make sure I haven't done any irreperable damage.
But tonight I think I am officially giving up on kid-blogging. I mean, picture-required posting. I need to do some head-clearing and soul-arranging and I have yet to find a tool that beats writing. If you need photographic evidence that both children are alive, kindly consider visiting facebook. If you find my self-involved self-reflection a mood-lifter for your own life, then do visit again. I'll try to be a bit more consistent and see if that evens me out.
The only sadness in this is that there will be no more record of my children's development. This was it for the first few years - maybe I'll have to take up scrapbooking, or at least print out my status updates on facebook and stick them in a box somewhere.
After this lengthy introduction, it turns out I don't have much to write about. This minute.
So maybe I'll come back with content later. But this is it, my commitment to trying.
But maybe quickly, my kids. Cause there should be a record.
Talia is smart. Holy shit, is she smart. She is of course, wordy and talky and all that she has been for a long time. But she is also a connection maker. She remembers and collects random ideas and finds ways to bring them together. It's quite amazing actually. One day the other kids will catch up to her and it won't be amazing, but right now, watching a not-quite-3-year-old process so quickly and accurately is kind of inspiring. She sings and makes up songs about what is going on around her and she counts and can write the first 2 letters of her name. These seem like less amazing skills than taking my rings in the bathroom and arranging 5 of them to overlap each other and then saying, "Look, the Olympics!" I mean, really, isn't that shocking?? It's not like we've ever pointed out the Olympic rings, or drawn them together... she just observed them, and then replicated them with 5 circles in a completely different context 2 months after the event had ended.
She is also very feeling-aware, and right now, a bit bowled over by some of the bigger ones, like anger and disappointment. Kind of like her parents, come to think of it. She is getting really sensitive about Scott and I having any kind of conflict. Since us *not* having conflict seems unlikely, we have been inviting her into it in a way, asking if she is worried about Mummy and Daddy, or asking her if she wants to check in to see if we're okay. We talk about how we're frustrated but about how we're going to keep using our words until we can fix it. This seems to take the edge off for her, but I worry about what it does to her little heart. Not enough to actually change myself or anything, but enough to be glad that I believe in a God who redeems exactly this kind of shit.
Nate is ... Nate. He remains so mellow, maybe with a tendency to morose. Not sad, but he can do downtrodden like nobody's business. He is so sweet-spirited right now too, and holds on to me lots. Picking him up out of the crib after naps is my favorite I think, when his little body is so warm and he holds on to both shoulders with each hand, tucks his head in and just eases his way back to conscious. He is a food-lover which remains a surprise to me after having first raised a less food-aware person. He has a big belly that he points to with delight when you ask where his belly-button is. He likes to laugh and it is a bit sad how fun it is to make him laugh. I think he's got a streak of mischievous that will get funnier over time too.
He may also be a bit of an adrenaline junkie. At least more than I am. He's all about the big experience - jumps and throws and tosses of all kinds. He spent 20 minutes at the pool today, jumping into Scott's arms and going straight under water. He just loves it - Talia tolerated it, but doesn't crave it the way Nate seems too. It's fun to watch and live next to. He talks and talks but has yet to make any sense. I think we've deciphered "What's that?" and "Talia" and "Ooohh". And "bar-bar" seems to mean food. Any kind of food, but it's always insistent, with lots of pointing.
Scott remains the best dad I know. He has a way with these two. I guess he has always had a way with kids (the nephews, the neighbours...) but with these two it's just sweeter. Every day, without fail, no matter where he has been, or how long he has been away for, when he walks in the door he says "Talia! Where are you? Nate!" and comes in with arms wide open to scoop them up for hugs and noses. What a wonder to be so delighted in by your dad. My dad's own brand was different in presentation but had the same effect I think - I knew I was safe and loved by that guy and now my own kids get the same thing and oh my, I didn't even know to ask God for that one. They both love him so much and I think of how central a loving Father is to having good faith with good love and just plain good living, I am so deeply thankful for the father Scott is being to them both.
In our own lives, we have to work really hard at contentment and gratitude. Most days, we feel the lack more than the abundance and it is so life-sucking. I imagine that struggle will take up a lot of the room on this page.
I think I'll leave it here for now.
And so it begins. Again.
But tonight I think I am officially giving up on kid-blogging. I mean, picture-required posting. I need to do some head-clearing and soul-arranging and I have yet to find a tool that beats writing. If you need photographic evidence that both children are alive, kindly consider visiting facebook. If you find my self-involved self-reflection a mood-lifter for your own life, then do visit again. I'll try to be a bit more consistent and see if that evens me out.
The only sadness in this is that there will be no more record of my children's development. This was it for the first few years - maybe I'll have to take up scrapbooking, or at least print out my status updates on facebook and stick them in a box somewhere.
After this lengthy introduction, it turns out I don't have much to write about. This minute.
So maybe I'll come back with content later. But this is it, my commitment to trying.
But maybe quickly, my kids. Cause there should be a record.
Talia is smart. Holy shit, is she smart. She is of course, wordy and talky and all that she has been for a long time. But she is also a connection maker. She remembers and collects random ideas and finds ways to bring them together. It's quite amazing actually. One day the other kids will catch up to her and it won't be amazing, but right now, watching a not-quite-3-year-old process so quickly and accurately is kind of inspiring. She sings and makes up songs about what is going on around her and she counts and can write the first 2 letters of her name. These seem like less amazing skills than taking my rings in the bathroom and arranging 5 of them to overlap each other and then saying, "Look, the Olympics!" I mean, really, isn't that shocking?? It's not like we've ever pointed out the Olympic rings, or drawn them together... she just observed them, and then replicated them with 5 circles in a completely different context 2 months after the event had ended.
She is also very feeling-aware, and right now, a bit bowled over by some of the bigger ones, like anger and disappointment. Kind of like her parents, come to think of it. She is getting really sensitive about Scott and I having any kind of conflict. Since us *not* having conflict seems unlikely, we have been inviting her into it in a way, asking if she is worried about Mummy and Daddy, or asking her if she wants to check in to see if we're okay. We talk about how we're frustrated but about how we're going to keep using our words until we can fix it. This seems to take the edge off for her, but I worry about what it does to her little heart. Not enough to actually change myself or anything, but enough to be glad that I believe in a God who redeems exactly this kind of shit.
Nate is ... Nate. He remains so mellow, maybe with a tendency to morose. Not sad, but he can do downtrodden like nobody's business. He is so sweet-spirited right now too, and holds on to me lots. Picking him up out of the crib after naps is my favorite I think, when his little body is so warm and he holds on to both shoulders with each hand, tucks his head in and just eases his way back to conscious. He is a food-lover which remains a surprise to me after having first raised a less food-aware person. He has a big belly that he points to with delight when you ask where his belly-button is. He likes to laugh and it is a bit sad how fun it is to make him laugh. I think he's got a streak of mischievous that will get funnier over time too.
He may also be a bit of an adrenaline junkie. At least more than I am. He's all about the big experience - jumps and throws and tosses of all kinds. He spent 20 minutes at the pool today, jumping into Scott's arms and going straight under water. He just loves it - Talia tolerated it, but doesn't crave it the way Nate seems too. It's fun to watch and live next to. He talks and talks but has yet to make any sense. I think we've deciphered "What's that?" and "Talia" and "Ooohh". And "bar-bar" seems to mean food. Any kind of food, but it's always insistent, with lots of pointing.
Scott remains the best dad I know. He has a way with these two. I guess he has always had a way with kids (the nephews, the neighbours...) but with these two it's just sweeter. Every day, without fail, no matter where he has been, or how long he has been away for, when he walks in the door he says "Talia! Where are you? Nate!" and comes in with arms wide open to scoop them up for hugs and noses. What a wonder to be so delighted in by your dad. My dad's own brand was different in presentation but had the same effect I think - I knew I was safe and loved by that guy and now my own kids get the same thing and oh my, I didn't even know to ask God for that one. They both love him so much and I think of how central a loving Father is to having good faith with good love and just plain good living, I am so deeply thankful for the father Scott is being to them both.
In our own lives, we have to work really hard at contentment and gratitude. Most days, we feel the lack more than the abundance and it is so life-sucking. I imagine that struggle will take up a lot of the room on this page.
I think I'll leave it here for now.
And so it begins. Again.
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