Friday, December 30, 2011

Who's that walkin' down the road?

This year at our life group's white elephant exchange, I think I got the best gift of all of 'em, me being the type who loves to both study people, individually and corporate (hello psychology degree!), and subsequently poke fun at the things such study uncovers.

The gift?

This book right here

It's basically very similar to the [now seemingly defunct] Stuff White People Like blog I used to follow, only it lambastes the stereotypes seen within the [primarily protestant] Christian church - a sampling of such is available at the author's website (true story, I didn't see his self-proclaimed connection to SWPL until AFTER I'd written the above)- and despite the bordering-on-irreverent humor, there are wise little nuggets of insight also.

One of my favorite bits in the book is filed under "Secret Christian Bands":
Write songs about your girlfriend and God.  All your lyrics should be interchangeable so that if people in the audience want to pretend you're singing about God, they can.  If they want to pretend you're singing about your girlfriend, they can.
I've noticed this trend for a long time, and Jon Acuff calling it out in his fun, tongue-in-cheek fashion gave me a serious case of the giggles.  (Well, really, the whole book did.)

And, for me, I've also done the inverse with secular music that could be Christian (something Jon also blogged about, and made me laugh out loud...you really should go read that one if you'd like a laugh) and found myself waxing theological/philosophical about [please read the disclosure statement that follows before you click] P!nk songs/videos (posting a youtube link on Facebook was NOT the best manner for me to do this in as the title showed in a thumbnail and posted in everyone's newsfeed that was friends with me.  I heard about it.  So, full disclosure: there is visible profanity if you click that link.  I hope you don't let that deter you because the video is Full o' Power and can help others see what life is like in a very fallen and hurting world, lest they've forgotten and/or have suffered only 'acceptable' pains in their lives....still a little gun-shy, I guess).  I've long done this with do-gooder songs like Jewel's Hands, Life Uncommon, etc (she is one of my musical heroines), Jack Johnson's Own Two Hands, almost anything by U2, and many other songs - generally, those songs that speak to my soul don't talk about missing someone's taste, so it's not such a leap for me to hear God talking to me through secular music.  I think.....

Anyway, tonight, it was Daphne Willis' Bluff that had me hearing the Spirit.  I mean, besides the soulful timbre of her voice, the lyrics struck me.  (Now, I know that this song is sorta last year and all, but I only discovered her 6ish months ago on NPR, and promptly downloaded a bunch of her music.)  Tonight was the first time I really heard it.



We're going to do a little lyrical analysis here - song (Holy Spirit?) in black - my thoughts in green

When you figure it out you let me know,
This indecisive nature of yours is really beginning to show,

God, are you reading my blog now?  I've put it out there that I'm indecisive in the taglines.
You got your time to find your voice,
You got your space to make your choice, 
A way to go, 

And you gave me time to sit, 
I'm sorry, I've just left You on the wayside.  Don't know what my problem is thinking I'm on my own in life. Old habits die hard.
And a place to get to, 

Where now I know,

You don't know what you want, 

Isn't that the truth?
But you think that what you've got is not enough, 

I know...yet I have glimpses when I see just how good I DO have it.
And I keep tellin' you that getting things right can be so tough,

True 'dat.
Guess what,  you're not so tough,

But do you really have to tell everyone else?
So I came back here to call your bluff.

That's the amazing thing about You - no matter how defensive or neglectful, or just plain selfish I am, You are always coming back for me - calling my bluffs.
You don't have to let me know a thing cuz I figured you out, 

Well, there is that omnipotent thing
See all this time I thought at least you knew what you were all about, 

I thought I did too...but it changes so quickly. I feel like I'm always just on the verge of knowing and then I'm going a different direction.
And I waited to let you decide what you could do without, 

Just because I haven't pursued You doesn't mean I think I can do this without You...I know that sounds lame, because it is.
And I watched your contemplations expose the shadow of your own self-doubt.
Pay no attention to that [wo]man behind the curtain!  Yeah, I'm just as successful at hiding it as the Wizard of Oz was, huh?



You don't know what you want,
But you think that what you've got is not enough,
And I keep tellin' you that getting things right can be so tough, 
Guess what, you're not so tough, 
So I came back here to call your bluff.

And all of the times you made it,
Like you were the one who waited,

Ouch!
But I never hesitated to call,
Double ouch.  So true.  Forgive me.



And that's not what this should be,
No, it's not - I'll try harder
Just a series of blame between you and me,

It's all on me, God.  I never blamed you, I just....grew distant.
Cuz the bottom line is far above it all.

Amen!

You don't know what you want,
But you think that what you've got is not enough,
And I keep tellin' you that getting things right can be so tough,
Guess what,  you're not so tough,
So I came back here to call your bluff


If you couldn't tell, I've been in a sort of spiritual slump....for awhile.  It's not that I'm wrestling some Jacobean match with God.  It's not that I've fallen into sin.  It's not that I'm doubting.  It's more about that subtle sneaking up of discontent and wanderlust that has distracted me from what is going well in my life, and from whom all those good things have utterly... freely... and graciously been given.  It's about flying by the seat of my pants and not being intentional with my time and habits.  It's about a life-long bluff I've told myself in order to not reel when loved ones let me down: The only one who will see to it you have what you need is you.

Thank you God for calling my bluff, especially through a lesbian woman's secular song.  

That's Stuff that this Christian likes: Equal opportunity.

I'll leave y'all with this quote from The Shack...to which my title refers, contrary to its old black spiritual song connotation.
“Does that mean," asked Mack, "that all roads will lead to you?"
"Not at all," smiled Jesus..."Most roads don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you.” 
― William P. Young, The Shack
How does God speak to you?

Monday, December 19, 2011

Stream of Consciousness 12/19/11

Three years ago today....

I quit my job working in local government to stay home with the kids.  While it has been invaluable to me and the kids to have this time together, there are some days when I look back and think, What the hell were we thinking?  


Our finances have been shaky ever since.

Colton has changed dramatically since he became a middle child....and on days when the doubt surfaces, I often mourn the loss of the easy-going, agreeable little boy that he was before we had three kiddos vying for our attention and affections.

I'm often overwhelmed, wondering how I ever did half as much as I did while working full-time, going to school part-time and volunteering because now?  I find myself floundering, a lot.

But....then....

I remember.

I'm working on publishing my Facebook Timeline (gotta go in there and delete all of that TMI kind of stuff I used to post back when it was just my interwebs friends on FB, before the whole free world jumped aboard).  In doing so, yesterday I found myself drawn to May, 2009.

The start of it all.


Heather Blair Meyer is @ PVH w/pneumonia and an obscene amt of fluid outside of her lungs
Heather Blair Meyer is just so blessed w/ family, friends and church family who are always there for us in a huge way!
May 13, 2009 at 10:25am via BlackBerry 
Heather Blair Meyer just got discouraging news: gonna need surgery to get all the gunk out
May 17, 2009 at 8:44am via mobile
Heather Blair MeyerTentative plans for today: 1 removal of chest tube 2 eat lunch w/the family outside on the patio 3 GET BETTER!
Heather Blair MeyerIs going home tomorrow! I expect my room will be a zoo in the morning



And then the recovery....






Heather Blair Meyer is feeling stronger everyday, loves being back at home, and is richly blessed. God's love is everywhere in my life and I am forever grateful for it.

Friday, June 12, 2009 at 8:43am Celebrating Health!
by Heather Blair Meyer

Hello all,
Yesterday, exactly one month after I went into the ER, I received a preliminary clean bill of health (meaning I still have follow-ups later this month) from the Infectious Disease doctor, praise God! I also got my PICC line out and was able to enjoy my first shower in a month that I didn’t have to “suit up” for with plastic wrap on my arm – ahhhhhh, the little things we take for granted ;)My CRP’s were in the normal range and my white blood cells had gone down even more since my last visit (they were in the high normal range last time).
We cannot thank everyone enough for the prayers, visits, food, housecleaning, babysitting, flowers, and financial assistance that you all have given in some way. We are truly blessed to have the church family, friends, neighbors and family that we do, and without you this would have been impossible.
Throughout this whole ordeal I kept reflecting on Philippians 4:13, and I now have a new take on this special verse. You all were (are) the body of Christ – his hands to prepare meals and his feet to run errands, his ears to listen, his shoulders to lean upon and find comfort, and so much more. Now when I read, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” I think of Christ in totality, not just the Savior who died for me but the people who make up his body here on earth today as well. And it’s true, I made it through a horrible illness with the aid of our Lord and His people and now feel stronger than ever.
Those of you getting this message who don’t do church, please don’t feel excluded by my words, because we are all children of God and I count your help as part of this wonderful blessing of which I speak also.

Love to all,Heather and family

And then the running... 



 August 19, 2009
Heather Blair Meyer has had a productive day: much needed prayer time with my girls, RAN for 19 minutes, cleaned etc etc. will crash hard tonite!

October 9, 2009
Heather Blair Meyer gearing up for tomorrow's busy day....5 k in the morning and a lia sophia party in the afternoon!
October 10, 2009
Heather Blair Meyer 43:54 straight jogging, no walking! felt so good!
February 13, 2010
Heather Blair Meyer is getting the fam ready for the sweetheart classic. 4 miles, here I come
May 31, 2010
Heather Blair Meyer in the car on the way to Boulder. As this month has been the anniversary of my illness, I've been pretty unemotional about it. til this morning, got a bit teary watching prerace coverage on the news, and realizing Just How Far God has delivered me 
May 31, 2010
Heather Blair Meyer  http://bolderboulder.onlineraceresults.com/individual.php?bib=GK544

It's pretty amazing to go back and see things in hindsight...

We'll be ok.














Tuesday, December 13, 2011

My Food Evolution

So, anyone who knows me well knows that Food and I have a long-term love-hate thing going.  If we were on Facebook together, our relationship status would be 'It's Complicated,' especially when that interloper Body Image comes around and wedges him/her [Question: how exactly do you personify body image, that you usually equate as a feminine struggle, when you yourself are a hetero female?] self in between us.

There were the years when Body Image convinced me that I seriously needed to ditch Food's sorry butt to the curb.  Period.  But the co-dependent in me craved his touch, that sated fill of my belly, the swell of serotonin that followed the carb-heavy selections with which he tempted me.  So I found myself smack in the middle of a love triangle between Body Image and Food.  Said triangle's name?  Bulimia.  I'd sneak around with Body Image and rebuff Food all day long.  At night, Food and I would meet in clandestine conditions, and overindulge with each other.  It was hell on earth.

The years that followed had me reconciling with Food, re-establishing boundaries, norms, and finding new ways for us to relate with each other that were equally as pleasing but with less damage.  During these years, I had a restraining order against Body Image.

Enter Exercise, and over time it became acceptable for Food and I to double date with Body Image and Exercise.  As a quartet, we have found balance and harmony.  Sort of.   Food and I still keep to ourselves too much sometimes, neglecting Exercise, which makes Body Image lash out in a jealous rage.

Food and I have long known that fresh is best, and the purest we can get, the better.  So we've had fresh fruits and veggies together for a Very Long Time.  Ever wanting our relationship to succeed, I do what any married woman does and stay abreast with the latest and greatest self-help guides to success.

Whole grains, stay away from refined flour/sugar as much as possible, low-fat, lean protein, right?

Until recently.

My Facebook and blogs and other internet dealings kept popping up with things like Wheat Belly, paleo diet, primal eating, etc.  But what really did me in?

This video.


This video haunts me, and wanna know why?

Because my daughter had so much struggle with the sensory integration as a young child (it's gotten So Much Better) and my first son is starting to show signs of brain-related behavior/learning issues.

Because my loved ones deal with chronic, inflammatory problems such as high blood pressure, acid reflux, joint/back pains, etc.  And they all eat 'healthy' diets per the USDA.

Could they exercise more?  Yeah, we all can.

But by and large?  We Can Prevent If Not Cure what ails us by changing our diets!

So, I've started to implement a [mostly] grain-free, mostly legume-free, diet, no, lifestyle, that is catching on in my family.  Like my friend Jen, I'm going about this gradually.  And it's catching on.  Seth informed me yesterday that he'd had a grilled chicken sandwich, served in lettuce, for lunch yesterday.  Kelsey packed a salad with meat and egg on it in her lunch this morning.  Colton is a tougher sell, but we'll get him ;)

I still eat quinoa and brown/wild rices, and legumes, but usually only at dinner and in smaller than standard serving sizes.  It's all about keeping the glycemic index and inflammation factors low.  Self.com has a great nutrition data tool that you can type virtually any food (along with method of preparation) and get standard nutrition facts, along with glycemic load and inflammation indicators on.  Breakfasts have been fruit/veggie and yogurt/almond milk smoothies and/or eggs with meat and/or veggies a la omelettes.  Today, I splurged and bought a gluten-free bagel (brown rice flour) breakfast sandwich and Oh.Em.Geeeeeeeee (goodness, too, not the other Gee).  So good.  But it was a splurge - not a regular part of the lifestyle, ya know?

Some primal/paleo folks say no dairy unless it is grass-fed, organic, and I say - that's not an affordable option for our family.  We are still doing dairy, and not necessarily organic.  We just don't have the money for that.  Same goes for our meat.  We will buy grass-fed, all natural when we can (or rather, harvest it via hunting), but budget constraints limit this.

But corn, soy, gluten, most sugar*? Sayonara! (*Agave in small quantities, and occasional cane sugar indulgences, y'all)

In baby steps, as some things like salad dressings and condiments have residual amounts in them, but as we finish them up, they will be replaced with healthier options.



Thursday, December 8, 2011

Just call me Britney....or maybe not

I could drop a coy little "Oops, I did it again," it being started yet ANOTHER blog when either of the others would have sufficed.

But....

It was no accident.  And it certainly wasn't a feigned accident, either.

I needed something ME.  Something where I could write again.  About anything.  (Grant writing's got its purpose and can be quite tedious er, fulfilling, yes, that's it!, but it isn't soul-soothing like the clickety clack of the keyboard typing something creative, meaningful.  INSPIRED.

And I have a lot to be inspired about.  If by inspired you might mean, challenged beyond all previously imagined possibilities in several areas of life.  Well, yeah, there's that stuff, too, but seriously - there is a lot I have to be grateful for.  But, there I go again, arguing with myself - it's been So Much Fun inside my head this past year with little time to blog and...PROCESS things.  NOT.  Anyway, back to the point - there are, admittedly yes, some significant struggles in life I'm going through (who isn't, right?), but there is a whole heck of a lot more that is going right and it's time I studied these things, meditate on them and find my contentment again.

So, what's been going on?

Well, the kids started school again (like 5 mos ago....yes I'm a quick one).


Kelsey is in 5th grade.  Let that one sink in, y'all.  My baby is in her Last Year of Elementary School (which is almost to its halfway point, no less), and I am slightly terrified for her about middle school.  Ok, who am I trying to kid?  Forget slightly terrified, I have honest to goodness PTSD like reactions when I spend anymore than 2.5 seconds thinking about it.  Srsly.  I'm breaking a sweat right as I type....or maybe that just makes for better storytelling.  But yeah, changes are on the horizon.

Going on 15
Colton continues to have some fairly minor, but consistent struggles with school.  The kid is smart - no doubt about that from the classroom nor the home - but he's uh, the one that teachers codify as energetic.  "He's just so, energetic, you know," is said at conference time with a knowing, too-polite smile.  And I nod, smiling back a telepathic message that says, "Oh, yes, darlin', I am QUITE familiar with the boy's energy and short of military school, I'm not exactly sure what to do with it either."  But over all, he's doing well and PTL we have a teacher who knows what she's doing with him this year!  (We got stuck with the same teacher who stayed comfortably in the box when it came to teaching that we had with Kelsey, and well, suffice to say interest in school was not high last year with him).
School is not his favorite, eh?

Christopher is now past 2.5 and neither speaking coherently, sleeping through the night in his OWN damned bed, nor potty trained - which aggravates the ever-lovin' tar out of my over achieving self, especially since the first two were either mastering or at least showing interest in those areas by this age.  But, frustrating as that may be.... the boy is a clown and brings me GreatJoy with his very clever humor.  His face is beyond expressive - it is an art form he has to be able to contort his features so that they convey EXACTLY what he is trying to communicate - often pure ridiculosity.  Yes that's a word.  I said so.  He goes to a pre Pre-School 2x/wk and loves it, so I'm not too concerned about his development - I just hate when everyone else points out his delays, like I clearly haven't noticed.  Like, hello peeps, have you met Me?  The totally overly observant one?  Yeah, so yes, I'm aware, now shut up, ok?  Thanks.


One of the contortions of which I speak

The Marriage Front / Life
Well, we are now officially an old married couple - having hit the lucky number 13 in years of marriage this year.  Which, if you do the math above * yeah, that's when I started changing my mind more.  Not because of Seth, but you know, cuz I'm a girl and it is totally my prerogative to be a little flighty now and then if I so choose.  once life gets a little more complex than just having to make decisions for oneself, then the decisions that once were so clear get muddled with shifting priorities and changing demands and, well, the monotony and busy-ness of life.  Just in the past 3 years we changed our minds, collectively, that we wanted another child and that it would be our first choice for me to be at home full-time.  And then I got sick and wracked up a bunch a medical debt, so now I'm a non-profit consultant, about to celebrate a whole year of business - can you believe that - and gaining some serious momentum to the point that I may soon be working the equivalent of full-time again.  Ebb and flow, things are fluid in nature and not as static as we may think them to be.

Seth has really changed a lot these past 3 years, but ya know, age and another kid, oh, and nearly losing your wife can kind of do that to a man, I've heard.  It's all for the better, too as I seriously find myself more and more in love with him each day than the one before.  It's not always that exciting eros of the early days kind of love (though, it's not unheard of, rawr!).  More often than not it is the Alison Kraus or the Ingrid Michaelson variety, deemed by many as sorta boring, but it is constant and secure and unequivocally accepting of me, and helps me get through life in a way I can't imagine Not Having. :swoon:

He's such a hands on dad with the kids at these ages; the relationship between him and Kelsey is really something to behold lately.  He's imparting his knowledge and love of hunting to her and the confidence she's gained from this, this inclusion into what has often been a boys only club since the dawn of time, has been nothing short of remarkable and inspiring.  It's even given me the blood lust somewhat, but shhhh....I still enjoy playing the role of the genteel wife who wouldn't dare bloody her hands.  

Then, he took on Cub Master for Colton's scout pack - no small commitment - and it has been a blessing to ALL of them, I'd say.

We're busy,,,even without organized sports, we still have both kids in choir and Odyssey of the Mind, Colton in Scouts, church groups, etc. that basically keep us busy most every night of the week save Mondays and Fridays.  Tonight, for instance, I worked all day, flew home to pick kids up from sitters and change, drove to the school for back to back choir concerts where we met Seth, drove to get a fast food dinner (which I will say I stuck to my recent Paleo convictions and thoroughly enjoyed a lettuce wrapped burger and side salad from Carl's Jr, thankyouverymuch!) and only got home for the first time in 13 hours at 9:30pm tonight. :sigh: tomorrow morning will be here all too quickly and I'll be rushing the groggy older two off to choir practice before school starts.  I don't know how people do it when band, sports, etc enter the family calendar, but it keeps us on our toes,

I haven't exercised since Tuesday and I feel conflicted about that - but this week has been seriously busy.  I do feel a sense of satisfaction about my eating this week, and that sure helps to keep me from self-flagellating about the exercise.

Anyway - that's what's been going on around here - how about you?



Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Rose Bed Theology



My husband has been the church groundskeeper for the past several years decade.

What started out as just mowing the lawns and keeping the weeds at bay in the parking lot (on a volunteer basis) has since morphed into the title of [co]Deacon of Facilities (still a voluntary thing).

The couple that was originally commissioned to landscape the flowerbeds at church got out of the landscaping business years ago, and now the church has some very unruly flowerbeds on account of the fact that said couple never laid weed barrier down in these beds in their effort to ensure job security.

This year, the rose garden has been particularly afflicted by morning glories.

This season started out as uncharacteristically wet - April and May just rained and rained and rained.  And being that there were three children and two jobs to attend to, the rare sunny day we'd get was usually a day full of scheduling for activities other than weeding.  It has still rained/hailed more than normal here, but this summer has since gotten into a dreadfully-hot-followed-by-afternoon-thunderstorm pattern that is typical of Colorado.

The rose bed got to me a couple of weeks ago, though, and I said, "We have got to go rip out those weeds, the roses look pitiful!"

So we did.  After 4 hours in the heat (not raining [in the mornings] now!)of squatting and crouching, getting scratched to hell, tending to 4 mischievous kids (we were babysitting, too) I was D-O-N-E.  And boy howdy did my hamstrings howl for the next several days!

It was hard work and hardly entertaining, yet somehow I managed to hear the whisperings God directed toward my heart about the inherent lessons of the rose garden.

First of all, it didn't take long at all for these horrible, life-choking weeds to grow to the extensive mess they'd become.  Sin is like that.

Ok,so maybe God didn't whisper that one to me as much as he gave those words to Seth for him to teach our older boy with and I just overheard.  

And these plants weren't new either - they were mature, well established roses, but every bit as susceptible to the weeds as any Christian is to sin.

Second, the roses couldn't undo the entanglement on their own, nor did they cry out for help, necessarily.  No, they were dependent on the astute observation and careful intervention of others.  

Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently.  But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. 

At one point, Mr. Fix-It observed, "You must be a lot more patient than I am."  This, being a statement filled with irony, garnered a quizzical 'say wha???' look from me.  He then explained that he was just ripping the vines at the bottom of the plant and pulling, whereas I was carefully finding the base of the vine and unwrapping each rose stem individually.  He concluded, "Yours look way better than the ones I've done."

That much was true, but before he went on thinking too highly of me, I told him the truth: "Actually, it's more out of self-preservation than it is patience."  It was my turn to elaborate.  "You see, when I was all fast and furious about it, I would get all scratched up, plus, it tore the roses up too.  When I take my time and am gentle about it, sure it takes longer, but both the roses and I benefit."

No sooner did the words leave my mouth than I felt God's Spirit, nodding beside me.  ....restore...gently.  But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted.  Tempted to do what?  Rush the job, haphazardly 'fixing' the situation, leaving yourself and the stuck person, albeit no longer stuck, bleeding and bruised on the way?  Judge the person and fight to wrestle the sin at hand out of that beautiful rose of a person, only for both of you to come out battered and missing pieces?

No matter how good intentioned one may be, if they haven't love or gentleness when dealing with a brother or sister stumbling into or stuck plumb in sinful habits, there will be casualties.  Proceed with caution and lean on the Lord's understanding, not your own.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

One More Reason to Love Him

Ahh, Mr. Fix-It, this man is pretty freaking incredible, y'all.

Because his employer was a sponsor for the Firekracker 5k this year we scored two free entries into the race.

I registered myself without hesitation, but was slow to sign him up.  He hadn't said he wanted to run.

He hasn't been training either, so my confidence was a leetle...well...LOW.  Plus, we didn't have anyone to watch kids for us as we ran, and ya know, logistics.

Then his parents decided to come up and Mr. Fix-It, AKA Mr. I-Love-Me-A-Challenge, said, "Hey, sign me up.  Mom and Dad can watch the kids for us.  This will be fun."

Ok.  Done.
Prior to the race, Mr. Fix-It gets his game face on

Courtesy of the Coloradoan, this is me getting my game face on for the last stretch
Mr. Fix-It is a FAST runner - think the hare - and usually prefers short distances, e.g. around the bases, down the football field, etc.  He runs about a 7:30-8 minute mile without training (yes, I am completely envious of that, as I had to work for a year to get a sub 9 minute mile out of my legs), but I wasn't sure how he'd do over distance, even if at a pace much slower than his own, that of my 11:something/mile pace.

He did great.  A few times I felt the bile rise and I stopped to walk briefly in order to keep from puking right then and there.  He could've kept running.  (Though funny thing, when I walked he fell behind - he told me I walked too fast!)

He was a gentleman and let me finish first knowing how much it meant to me, though because I'd crossed the start mat a second or two before he did, we finished with exactly the same times!

But, probably the best part of the whole race with my husband was his humor - even panting he still got his smart aleck commentary going, to the benefit of those around us.

Example #1 - As we approached Mile 1, there was a volunteer announcing times and another traffic volunteer standing in the road with a 'slow' sign.  Mr. Fix-It then proceeds to say, "Dude, I know we're slow, but do we REALLY need a sign telling the whole world?"  It garnered many chuckles.

Example #2 - Between Mile 2 and Mile 3 we had to run eastbound on the 'wrong' side of a westbound street.  There were cones and signs telling drivers to remain in the far left lane as the race was in progress, plus volunteer traffic flaggers.  However, one driver of a car felt obliged to lean out his window and yell, "This road should be CLOSED!" as we ran past.

Mr. Fix-It proceeded to tell the crowd, in his best red-neck speak, "I bet that boy's gonna go home and drink him a can o' red 'n' white Budweiser.  He'll be all, 'I was on my way home from buyin' Copenhagen at the 7-Eleven and all these people was blockin' the road!'"

Example #3 - there were several noticeably pregnant women running (don't ask - it defies ALL laws of gravity in my mind to run THAT pregnant), and Mr. Fix-It told me, "We can't let the fetuses beat us - they're making their moms do ALL the work, and that's not right," in effort to keep us moving at the end.

I love this man.
Courtesy of the Coloradoan.
My boy Middleton in the bottom left at the fun run.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Where I'm From

I've been itching to do this since I saw it on Jennifer's blog last week - but time, it gets in the way.


There is a template to do this exercise and it is a mind-stretcher....


In doing this, I pulled up Google maps of my old neighborhood using street view.  And wow, did it put things in perspective for me.  I remembered being poor, but seeing the grounds I lived my first 14 years in, and remembering them having always been exactly that way - not merely run down by time as my husband suggested - really brought it home for me how vastly different my life is today.  Kelso, WA, particularly South Kelso, where I grew up, is very poor.


I am from overcast skies, from Weyerhaeuser paper and totem poles


I am from tired and worn streets with semis parked in front of dilapidated homes, from backyard slews whose banks were littered with treasures neighborhood hobos had left behind for The Boxcar Children


I am from the unruly wild blackberry brambles, ancient forests of the giant Douglas Firs with spongy trails to explore, and the scarred horizon St. Helens left behind


I am from friendship outweighing blood when it comes to who gets the title of Aunt, strong women drinking coffee and Kahlua (decades before the happy hour playdate ever made the Today Show), from Mamie  and Shearan Ann and Tara Melody


I am from the we fight because we love each others and pleas to rise above it all


From Daddy’s gone away and social services entangled in all aspects of life


I am from a hodgepodge of invitations to church with neighbors and friends. From the VBS’s held by kind, white-haired ladies at the clubhouse of the housing projects each year


I'm from the poverty of Arkansas jumping at the opportunity of the Northwest timber industry, from Scots and Irish who worked hard and drank harder, from sweet tea and Sunday night family suppers of pork and dumplings (Grandma detested chicken)


From the woman who worked three jobs to keep food on our table, teachers who gave more than a damn and actually changed lives, and the three best buds a girl could ask to play The Boxcar Children with


I am from a cardboard box in a cool basement storage room in NW Colorado, a thousand plus miles from where I started, in which baby books, recorded by a poor, teenage girl’s bubbly script, attempt to demonstrate the love she always struggled with showing as we got older.  Those words, may as well have been written in gold – for they show that she always intended to try her best; I know now that she did


********
Next, I'd like to write one for how I hope my children would fill theirs out....

Friday, June 17, 2011

Quotable...

Last night I was driving the kids back from the Boys and Girls Club and the topic of conversation was fixated on their impending sleepovers with friends.

We were talking transportation, and I told Middleton we'd pick up his friend, Birthday Buddy, after we got Screech and were heading home.  Special K pipes up, "But what about A?" (A is her friend who will also be staying over, and driving home with us).

At that moment I realize, indeed, as initially planned, we would have more children than seatbelts, and I said, "Well, we'd figure something out."

Special K then suggests, "You should drop me and A off, and then go get Birthday Buddy, because we're responsible.  For a minute or two, anyway."

I laughed and laughed at her candor and accuracy.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

I'm compelled to tell the kettle it's black

According to the old adage, that'd make me a pot, eh?  Guess that would also make me black (taking a wild stab here, but I'd assume this cliche was born in the era of cast iron).

A few weeks ago, when I started this blog, I thought I might convince myself [and you!] to quit wallowing in the sea of self-deprecation and dive on into the less familiar waters of self-acceptance.

Hah...I wrote this and a day later, while running!, heard a new[er] song by Jennifer Knapp [LOVE her!] that has a similar theme of water and self-acceptance - crazy. Check this out: 
I'm so tired of standing on the edge of myself.  You know I'm longing for it.  To dive in, dive in
Alas, I've been in a funk.

I've felt distant from God, due to my own reluctance to engage with Him or His Word.  It's not that I'm struggling with faith or have stopped believing...it's more just a hard time feeling His presence and thus not feeling up to doing the work to find Him again.

And with that, everything seems wrong....

My cluttered house is not at all like the neighbors' homes, which albeit just as small as ours, are well organized and decorated and always clean.

My friends who are going here and there to eat and to this show or that event are so lucky.  We've been home bound and while I like to cook, the kitchen seems like such a ball and chain when the budget is non-gourmet and time is slim.

 And vacation? What is that?  As Special K is fond of pointing out, we never go on vacation.  Save for an occasional weekend camping trip or visit to Craig, she's right.  

One of my personal favorites though, is how my children are the ones that make everyone else's look like angels when in the company of other parents/children.

The other old fave?  Body image.  Sigh.

A friend of mine invited us to her neighborhood pool the other day, and we gladly accepted the reprieve from 90 degree weather.  I normally don't have too much issue with swimsuits these days b/c usually the other mothers have comparable bodies to mine.  There is confidence in numbers of other women bearing the evidence of motherhood.  Not so [for me] in this neighborhood.  It is a more affluent area and it wasn't just that they were all so pretty in the face and thin with flat tummies, no, it was the 6-12 month old babies they each had on their laps with nary a stretch mark or bulge to show for it that got to me.  I felt the unevenness of my wayward unbraced teeth press against my lips in self-consciousness, and it seemed like each instance of cellulite on my wide thighs (many, no exaggeration) pushed outward like goosebumps.  Was I in Stepford? I began to wonder.

I'm up 12lbs from where I was 6 months ago and the clothes fit tighter.  This is largely due to the lack of running I've done over the winter/early spring.  Said lack of running was caused by a number of factors, namely the damnable winds we had.

I'm just trying to sufficiently set the stage for y'all to understand the pity party my mind has been of late.

I had a breakthrough this week though.

I was determined to start running regularly and be active again.

So I went Tuesday.  Ran 1.5 miles before I had to walk, and did intermittently walked and ran for a total of 4 miles.

Wednesday night we rode our bikes as a family to/from church (12 miles).  I had a mtg afterward for upcoming camp and the fam left 20ish minutes before me.  I caught them for the last 5 minutes of our ride home (with kids it's about 40 minutes) - I was booking it!

Thursday I ran and walked for 3.8 miles, averaging a 13:38/mile pace.

Yesterday, I ran a full 3.5 miles before caving to walking (albeit with a potty break at about 2.6 miles), and walked the remaining .5 of my loop.

All of this activity has been awesome and just this spark I've needed to recapture glimpses of God.  Soaking up His sunny days, singing along with my worship and praise music, and the awesome reminder of just how far physically He's brought me in the past two years, together, these things have revived my desire for Him and for serving my family, helped me get back on track, and given me an overall sense of zen that I've been lacking for quite awhile.

Guess that means it's true.

I'm a Christian runner.

When I'm not true to that, when I don't carve out time for my runs with God, everything else in life falls apart.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Scars

I've been in something of a quandary lately regarding just how open a person ought* to be in the age of Facebook and instant information being at the ready with a few clicks of a mouse.

*said level of openness gauged by the fact that colleagues, church members, old friends you really have no intention of being truly intimate with again, etc can know pretty much whatever you decide to put out there in 2.5 seconds flat thanks to Google and/or Facebook.

It's been said by many a blogger that blogging is a much cheaper alternative to therapy, and I'd count myself in that chorus.  I've rehashed old wounds, sought validation, and fixated on the scars left behind via this medium.  And I've loved it.

But Facebook came along, and in my attempts to pursue the commercial blogging route I posted my blogfeed on Facebook.  It garnered hits, for sure.  But suddenly, people reading were no longer random connections on the internet - no, there were my Sunday pewmates - many of whom I didn't go past the "Hi, how are you?" depth of conversation while face to face - and fellow do-gooders - many of whom could be potential references or employers - reading all about my sordid past, my marital issues, my inability to balance a checkbook, etc. and then two things would happen: 1.) These people, who I knew fairly superficially, would come up to me (face to face at church or via post/msg on blog/FB) and suddenly know all about me with me knowing little to nothing about them - and lopsided intimacy pretty much sucks, y'all; it tends to generate pity.  2.) Other people did NOT want to know these things and thus began to avoid me.  And that's not awkward at all, right?

So then I started to question myself.  Have I just shot myself in the foot with all of these confessional posts?  Have I become one of those people who is TOO open?

And cue the music...I begin to hear the Newsboys asking me:

Why you holdin' grudges in old jars /  Why you wanna show off all your scars? / What's it gonna take to lay a few burdens down?  / It's a beautiful sound....

Scars are a funny thing.  Most of the time, they go unnoticed, but every now and again, they might itch and beg for attention, drawing your mind to them.

They, like most things in life, can mean very different things with a shift in perspective; scars can signify victimization and burden us with baggage, or they can remind us of battles from which we emerged victorious, stronger, and bless us with gratitude.

I find that I cycle through these two perspectives, and that sometimes, the latter one can resemble the first when we get stuck on describing the battle.  A lot of my writing after I faced my own mortality two years ago fell in this category...

In the end, I decided to own my scars and to count them as mementos of triumph versus reliving all the bad.  But here's the thing....by pretending I don't have any scars, i.e. not acknowledging them, robs me of opportunity to witness just how far God has delivered me.  So I will continue to write - albeit more cautiously with respect to who my audience may be.

Sidenote - an appropos exchange with the kids re: scars:
Middleton: Mama, Special K says you have thousands of scars!  Do you?
Me: Well, I wouldn't say thousands...
Special K: Would you say hundreds?
Me: Hmmm...I'm not sure.
Middleton: well, which ones doe you have?
Me: Well, I have my scar from surgery, two scars from the chest tubes, two from the pic lines, one on my neck, the time I had stitches as a kid....
Then as my shirt rode up and I caught glimpse of my crepe paper belly with lines of silver all over it, I laughed.
Me: You might just be right, Special K.  I could have thousands of scars.  They're called stretch marks, and they all remind me of that special time when you were inside my belly!


Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Packing Up

It's time to move on from this place.

5 years is a long time, and I'm finding that I'm just not the same person I was when I started this blog.  I've moved on and started another - but am somewhat cautious about inviting everyone I know to it.  If you wish to follow, simply send me an email at hthrmyr (at) gmail (dot) com.

Blessings!

ramblin red © 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Welcome!

Five years after I started my first blog, Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child, I decided it is time for change.

At Ramblings, I did a lot of shadow-boxing, working through multiple depressions, role strain, and many other quarter-life crisis topics.  I also chronicled some sweet memories of my two older kiddos, so it wasn't all bad ;)

I identified myself as being the odd man out - hence the whole red-headed step-child beat - but at some point, I began to feel as if that put a chip on my shoulder, that I was playing victim to my circumstances.

This new blog is to pay homage to the fact that life happens.  And rarely according to plan, particularly ours.  I believe that God has a plan for us all, though, and sometimes that means stops, yields and complete detours on the paths we set out upon in order to remain in accordance with His will.

Also of note?  This idea that we have to be the finished product, that we have to have it all in order, in a word - perfect - before we can go on into life is pretty much....uh, false.  Life is in the journey and not so much the destination!  So quit echoing your kids' "Are we there yet"s and stop worrying about whether you're a perfect housewife/personal finance manager/cook, etc.  Enjoy the ride and know that you will arrive at your [un]intended destination when you're supposed to.  Just remember to listen to the 'On-Star' of your life: God, and you'll navigate just fine.

So - there you have it.  This is a life blog - no mommy blog, food blog, etc. niche to fill.  So the things that happen and make life memorable will all play a part (and yes, that does mean the occasional recipe!) in the posts here.  I hope you'll follow along with me.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Oh, the things I've NOT been doing!

Mckmama- Not Me Monday

It has been awhile, dear readers, since I've had much NMM fodder...but this weekend the past 2 weeks?  FULL of it.  (For those of you who are ignorant to how NMM works, click the button!)

I absolutely did NOT, after a full day of Screech's incessant and ear-piercing, uh, screeches, find myself an incoherent, brain fogged mama.  And I did NOT decide to pack us both into the car a little after 2, hoping a change in scenery would jolt his temperament back to the peaceable one he used to bless us with, only to find the clock, glaring 2:15 at me.  And, because glares are seen and not heard, I did NOT seem to hear the aforementioned glare hissing tick-tocks at me, accusingly.  I did NOT have to mumble to myself, "2:15, why is that sticking in my mind like a bad idea?" repeatedly, and I most certainly did NOT panic when it suddenly came crashing into my consciousness that Middleton's OM team was doing  a dress rehearsal of their problem in front of the school at their assembly and he'd told me their curtain time was 2:10.  I did NOT utter a swear that starts with S, because such language is absolutely NOT a residual struggle of my childhood influences for me.  I did NOT gun it straight to the school and did NOT feel a flood of relief upon seeing that the assembly was only just beginning.  You see, since I was NOT actually late, none of that earlier stuff mattered.  I made it to see my special little guy perform, and he was none the wiser!  Phew.....

I did NOT freak out when Special Ks birthday cake (yes the party was almost 2 weeks after her birthday, thank you to the Over-Scheduled School-Aged Children stage in life) failed to rise, instead sinking into layers with miserably gnarled topography.  Said cake's failure to rise was NOT due to my stubborn inability to drop the SuperMom attempt at creating memories that really wouldn't be all that different had I made a cake mix that I knew would turn out reliably.  Because I do NOT have any motherhood issues...at.  all.  I did NOT attempt to fix the cake's lopsided layers by strategically placing the low ends atop the high ones, nor did I try to level them with obscene amounts of frosting.  Nope, the cake turned out perfectly, if I say so myself...picture evidence is not so easily shared....it's on my FB acct and my Droid and has not been uploaded to my lappy.

I also did NOT lose my running shape this summer, dropping from a 6 mile avg run, 3+x/wk, to a less than 3 mile avg run, 1-2x/wk.  Because I'm harder-core than that!  I did NOT, therefore, entertain* the idea of running the Sharin' o' the Green 5k last week because it was 1.) Just hours immediately preceding K's bday party and 2.) a stretch, given my current lack of running.  *Entertain = go to the online registration for the race, only to abandon the thought prior to hitting submit....or maybe you actually do hit submit and subsequently talk yourself out of it, forgetting you had hit submit.  Uh, yeah...  My memory is shot, y'all!  Because, 1.) I, again, have NO issues with needing to prove myself, and therfore feel NO need to put myself in such an overcommitted frenzy that only SuperMom can master, and 2.) well, let's just say I know my limits.  Because I was NOT so silly to register for this race, I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning.  And failed to hydrate.  Then, mere hours later, I did NOT chug some water, put my running duds on and get the dog all excited, grab my phone (b/c I cannot live without my iMapmyrun app!) only to find an e-mail from Active.com wishing me luck at my race just before I set out the door.  I did NOT frantically run upstairs to rouse Mr. Fixit and tell him, "Uh, I guess I did register for that race and I gotta leave NOW!"  I did NOT speed to the race site only to get there when registration check-in was supposed to close, and I certainly did NOT revisit my unwholesome talk when I couldn't find a parking space.  I was NOT simultaneously Relieved (ah! not LATE) and Frustrated (I'm gonna have to jet back for the party!) that registration was running 15 minutes behind schedule.  I did NOT have to walk for approximately 3 mins after 2.5 miles, because I'm In Such Great Shape I've Run A 10k Before!  And I did NOT lose the full-on sprint to the finish line from the last corner to a woman who had a good 15 years on me, but most certainly, I did NOT puke seconds after crossing the finishing line when I began to put the brakes on.  I mean, heck if I ran a 5k in a sub20 time, then I'm entitled to puke, but 37 minutes was not really puke-worthy...it wasn't even a PR for me.  I did NOT walk immediately to my car, arrive home, and proceed to rapidly sponge bathe, apply deodorant and change clothes only to get everything gathered up for the b'day festivities, arriving at the party less than 40 minutes after crossing the finish line.  Because that would require SuperMom.  And I?  Am so NOT her.  But maybe I am, sometimes.

I did NOT forget that the Mother's Day Out program Screech has been going to when I work was closed for the Neighboring School District's spring break (which is different from our school district's spring break and therefore, not on my radar) last Tuesday.  Therefore, I did NOT get all ready to go, drive down there, only to see it was a ghost-town and be slapped with the realization that I'd Failed To Plan.  I did NOT go to my contracted agency's office with baby in tow whilst he slept.  And he did NOT wake up while I was trying to transfer files, and proceed to cry while other people may have been in therapy.  That will NEVER happen again.  Ugh....

So....per Almond Joy and Mounds, somedays you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't.  Lately, I'm on a nutty streak.

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved