Living-Deliberately.com

Today the Orthodox celebrate the child Mary being brought to the temple. As the temple of God, she was first brought to the earthly temple of God. Ironic twist with beauty if you ask me.

As I suspected I am coming to love the rhythm of the liturgical calendar, even as my toe barely skims the surface of the water.

She’s completely hilarious. My favorite part of SNL. And if I had time and TV I’d watch her new show 30 Rock.

But this quote in People mag made me sad last night:

“I get to see her for a few hours before I go to work. Compared to a lot of working moms that’s a blessing.”

This was about her 14 month old baby girl, Alice. Not a five year old, who would likely have a day of school to go to. Or a 13 year old forming her own life and activities. Her baby. The article is short but the conflict she must feel comes through. I think what bothered me most is that Tina worked hard for years to get where she is. It seems it would be okay to take some time off to get her baby through preschool (or have other kids, as she mentions in one of the interview questions, as something they want but can’t envision with their schedules). If anyone has “earned” the right to be a stay at home mom, in my opinion, it would be someone who’s already had her career and made a name for herself. And the thing with Tina Fey is….the public loves her. We aren’t likely to forget her if she’s not in the spotlight for awhile. Other stars do it; I’d wish it for her too.

A few hours a day with my baby? I can’t imagine. That’s not why I had kids. I have a hard time imagining parents who admit to that, though I know they are out there.  And to parents who got pregnant so deliberately timed (not saying that’s what TF and her hubby did; the article doesn’t say), it seems sad they can’t give real-time parenting more of their day. After all, childhood is so short and babyhood is shorter….and it certainly isn’t all about reaching the parent’s goals.

Last night after we got the kids down, David and I snuggled up to watch Survivor. Yup. On a Sunday night. Starting 9:10.

We watched it online through CBS’s innertube. VERY, very cool. Available 24 hours a day, with few commercials, and better defintion than my old TV. No cable or ugly dish required. No programming that I don’t want cluttering up my air space. Watch and go.

After that we went to NBC and watched The Office. Hil. Air. EEEE.OUS.

What’s up with Fox offering a bunch of their shows online too BUT NOT HOUSE?!?!?!

See how quickly one feels pampered and spoiled?

But totally fun and it’s nice to know that after a very productive weekend, the option is there to sit and enjoy about an hour of TV (fewer commercials will give ya that!) and marvel yet again at the ever-challenging and surprising Survivor, get angsty with Jim and Pam, and even as there is no hideous dish on one’s porch.

“I don’t know that I have an argument between the East and the West. But I do between the integrity of word and action. If you mean it do it. If you don’t mean it - don’t do it.”

from Father Stephen’s blog today.

• Father Stephen wrote on the Nativity Fast, perfectly capturing the sense of quiet anticipation I’ve most loved about the advent period, the hush of waiting amid the clamor the secular world with sticky sweetness gorges on too quickly. Our time of feasting is coming, when our Light has come, and we look forward to the watching in the stillness.
• As I write on the dining room table that is actually IN the dining room now that there is no more carpet, the kids are taking turns telling stories while everyone else is the “audience”. The wood stove is finally going strong (hard time getting a fire going on wet days) and it’s cozy and warm and we even have a candle lit. Feels a little Currier and Ives.
• Andrew said today, “well I AM the third grown up, right?” More proof he was born thinking he was 40 years old…
• Dinner tonight was omelets and sweet potato pie, due to David’s bemoaning that I’d never made him an omelet. “That’s sooo not true!” said I. But he’s cute and so even though I have no appropriate omelet pan, that is what we had for dinner.  Celia said, “remember this day in history dad. Mom MADE you an omelet!” The kids, who do not like sweet potatoes, decided that if I was going to make them taste like pumpkin pie then it was acceptable, prooving (I know that’s spelled wrong but heck, it’s creative) once again that even picky eaters will eat what they think they dislike if only the cook can peg a non offensive method. I find this to be challenging and fun…like finding my man “hates beets” cuz he’s only had the canned kind but LOVES them sliced and roasted in olive oil. Or that beans, which I’d previously found to be quite disgusting, were okay pureed with herbs and oil OR topped in generous mexican toppings, and thus aquired a taste for them, and in the process empowering my grocery budget.
• snow’s comin’. Hopefully no ice with it; I need to make it out of town in the morning.

Read this interesting article about a potential link between them and the Cornell study that investigated it.

Since cutting our cable the kids have only had their movie supply for TV entertainment. They have:

• discovered that black object in the corner of the living room is a piano
• played more together, the olders working on a fort, the youngers becoming buddies
• camped outside in self made tents
• found the craft box and used it
• used a book that taught how to draw animated figures
• read books
• argued less about chores; argued less period
• played outside, either on roller blades or the playground
• written plays, stories, and acted out dances and ballets

The overall peace in the house is better; quieter, less frantic, and less beligerant attitudes abound. I find I can’t argue with the findings of my own “study”.

One to four inches predicted for tonight/early morning for my area of the Plateau. I’d be surprised if it stuck because the ground is pretty warm still but the forecast says the drop in temps will take care of that. Won’t stick around long though….the rest of the week is sunny and in the mid 50’s. It should be a beautiful Thanksgiving week.

*****

The house next door was rented this week. I doubt the landlady even checked their finances or background. They came to see it and were moving in two hours later. Two older men and a woman with a pug dog that stays mostly inside and a pit bull chained in front. It nipped at it’s owner this morning when he reached for it’s food bowl to feed it. This situation has my “momma hackles” raised and a shoutin’ shade of red brighter than my rooster’s comb and wattle. One step in my yard and we’ll be using that TN “if it comes onto your property and is a threat to you and yours” law to it’s fullest.

“Love thy neighbor” is much easier to do when there isn’t a viscious dog two feet from the fence line where one’s children and animals play.

********************

We indeed can’t move a muscle today. Every attempt brings the screams of nerves that would rather just lay still thankyouverymuch. But when I heard my toddler running (why is that the kids never are sore the next day?) across the wood floor I smiled. It feels like home. I’m just not a white walls and carpet kind of girl.

The whole history of this house was under that carpet. Or, at least, the ground floor story.

Let me first say how much I dislike carpet. Anyone who has actually picked up old carpet to see what nasties lie beneath knows exactly what I’m talking about.

We weren’t able to totally empty the two rooms so we worked in sections, first peeling the carpet and pad back, then pulling up the tack strips, then twisting a million and one staples out. Each section held much anticipation as we knew there was a good chance the floor wouldn’t be in great condition.

The first thing we noticed was the “soot line”. For the first 70 years the house had the same floor rugs in place. Beneath those is untreated oak, mostly blemish free. The edge though is a “frame” of discolored wood with a greasy soot line from years of wood and coal smoke. Murphy’s Oil Soap far and away removed most of this.

After that family moved out it became church property. They remodeled it; we found the evidence of where the old stair rail used to be and to our absolute horror, where they put in the duct system for central heat and air. It’s particle board! One corner, in the living room. Fortunately, our area rug will cover it.

We scrubbed on hands and knees the entirety. The hope was to have floors in good enough condition to live with for a while, with the hopes of refinishing them next spring. We got it!

After the church’s remodeling project they rented it out. One lady became the “villiage humane society” and took in every stray that got dumped off. From the way the neighbors tell it, the house was so trashed after her that they had to gut the house. Thus, the “salvaged parts, 80’s apartment chic” that was put in after they stripped all the period detail the house had. Fortunately the floors show no evidence of Cat Woman and her brood but it does tell the tales of the last remodel. Someone’s skill saw cut a gash about a foot and half long. Someone dropped culk. It was obvious that where they put tile grout down near the stove first, they slopped it around, feelin’ generous, but when they got to the front door entry, they were running low and skimped.

I’ve learned that on renovation projects: you can always tell where the last guy (even if it was yourself!) skipped step.

The best part of the day was working together. The kids took turns on baby duty and staple pulling, ran the shop vac, and even the baby got in on the scrubbing. If I’d had the time I’d have taken pictures but we were really racing against the clock.

We got the furniture all put back, the rug placed, the books back on the shelves. There’s still plenty of clean up to do but our old bodies ache and it’s time for a cozy bed and a cup of hot tea. We may not be able to move a muscle by morning.

This morning I opened my eyes to greet the day at my eastern window and there streaking the sky was a resplendant sunrise, all pale blue and yellow and pink.

Last night there was a little “dream come true” moment when I was outside long after dark, searching in the cold for the baby’s “donkey”, and happened to look up and see the blackest of skies punctuated with white stars. I’ve always wanted to live out far enough from a city to see stars and now that I do I find I’m so busy I’m rarely out there in it. It was a still night; wood smoke and cold air, the contrast of that black and white above, and it felt sacred indeed.

The title line is from “What a Wonderful World”, one of my absolute favorites. I had always kind of liked it and then when Clara was in the hospital and we were in that “holding pattern” of not being sure if she was healing or dying, the words of the song came to me and I darkly wondered if there ever would come a day when I would think it was a wonderful world again. A year and half later, 1:20 in the morning, I sat in a tub of water having birthed a little red-faced boy and we played that song. Only Louis Armstrong’s gravely voice can sing that with the journey of having known the contrast of wonderful, back to the joy on the other side.

Dinner last night was true comfort food. I’d pretty much given up on baked versions of mac and cheese because every recipe I’d tried was gritty and not cheesey enough. In looking for meatless meals for the Nativity Fast I found this recipe in the latest issue of Real Simple magazine (the cookbook must be worth getting as every recipe I’ve tried from them has been a keeper). It called for Gruyere cheese; something I can’t pronounce and can’t spell right, and, as it turns out, couldn’t afford and used Montery Jack instead. It was FAB. U. LOUS. Crispy edges, smooth inside, zesty and intense. And next time I’m using pepper jack to make it a wee bit spicey.

Family Funny: the other day Andrew was eating his Chick Fil A fries and said, “I’m so glad they didn’t deskin these potatoes.” I think I may refer to peeling as “deskinning” for years to come now….

We’re ripping out our ground floor carpet today, hoping to find useable 100 year old oak flooring beneath. Here’s hopin’ ‘eh?

I was thrilled tonight to see my another of my friends here start her own blog! Not only that, but the song she posted is PERFECT for where I spent most of my time today; once picturesque mountains now full of rows of little “monopoly” houses and strip malls. (Was reminded that once again every Babies R Us has an American Signature furniture in the same strip, and probably a bar and grill of some sort in the parking lot, with a gas station next to it and a fast food place not far. I could have blinked and thought I was on Atlantic Blvd in Jax).

Give this a listen.  The sound loads just after you click on the page. I”m too tired to write anything else….4 kids, the rain and wind, 5 stores, getting home much after dark…it’ll do a girl in.

No Brain nightmares last night. Thanks everyone for your suggestions; he said he would like to watch a few more shows to see what Brain is really like, “but not yet Mom.”

I can’t tell you how HAPPY I am that my old aquaintance Mike changed the name of his blog!!

Happy enough to decide to link to him this morning and share. I know a few other people who are going to be glad to see the change too.

Thing was: the old name was “you can know God”. Problem: the entire blog is about him, what’s he up to, and his church plant. So maybe it sounds nit-picky, but the name grated on my nerves. Seemed misleading. If I go to a website that says I can know Him, I want to hear about HIM.

Mike’s signature is on top now; quite appropriate for the content.

Can’t sleep. The baby’s been up for hours with a dry, tickling cough. I just gave him some Delsem (great stuff btw) and he’s out…but not mommy. Should make shopping day interesting.

What can bring a girl down off her Dave Ramsey high? The news that my brother in law and sister have chosen to remain two income after their baby is born in a few weeks and put her in an office daycare.

I’m glad I can pray again because I’ve been hitting them with every saint and angel, the Theotokos, and the Savior for most of the night.

They know me, they know what I think about this choice, and I think they’ve been nervous about announcing it. I saw it coming; knew I’d likely be walking that line of wanting to love and support them come what may and still wanting better for them all down to my pores. The truth is, no matter how prepared, no matter how calm and supportive I want to be, this torments me and keeps me up at night.

Why blog about family stuff? Why go there? How can I not when one loves and cares so vividly? What is the power to write if I can’t write about what really matters?

Ginny Owens sings a song I know my sis knows called “Free”.

” Turnin’ molehills into mountains,
Makin’ big deals out of small ones,
Bearing gifts as if they’re burdens,
This is how it’s been.
Fear of coming out of my shell,
Too many things I can’t do too well,
afraid I’ll try real hard, and I’ll fail–
This is how it’s been.
Till the day You pounded on my heart’s door,
And You shouted joyfully,
“You’re not a slave anymore!”

Chorus:
“You’re free to dance-
Forget about your two left feet
And you’re free to sing-even joyful noise is music to Me
You’re free to love,
‘Cause I’ve given you My love(repepte after bridge),
and it’s made you free
after Bridge(I have set you free!”)

My mind finds hard to believe
That You became humanity and changed the course of history,
Because You loved me so.
And my heart cannot understand
Why You’d accept me as I am,
But You say You’ve always had a plan,
And that’s all I need to know.
So when I am consumed by what the world will say,
it’s Then You’re singing to me, as You remove my chains-

Bridge:
Free from worry, free from envy and denial
Free to live, free to give, free to smile.”

The chains are off!!! This family I love so much is FINANCIALLY FREE OF DEBT. Why make a choice from a position of bondage?

Sigh.

I suspect it’s possible that when I had children, and chose to stay home with them, that we took a vow of poverty. We had no debt until 5 years later, when we charged away the pain after our daughter died, when we cushioned any financial suffering with Mastercard. When the payments became our Master we charged to keep our heads above water. And when we knew better, we’ve done better, working towards a place of freedom.

It may result in “piles of cash” as Dave says. It may also, and maybe only mean we are free to buy things from a position of empowerment. No lender telling us how it’s going to “be”, no need to find approval from an outside source to do something. Freedom to put braces on our kids’ teeth or send them to camp or go eat out in a cute bistro on our anniversary. It may not come to mean wealth and piles of cash; maybe just freedom.
If I thought I’d have to make a choice to give my baby up the better part of a day, pay all the expenses that go with that, feel the stress of when she’s sick versus needing to get some work done, let someone else see her roll over for the first time (or whatever milestone didn’t somehow happen on the weekend), wake her up early on Monday after being out late Sunday night because at 4 months it’s “time to get up and go to work”, and yada, yada, yada, every other rational argument they’ve heard and know backwards and forwards, I’d sit and charge my life. I’d work outside the home, get my hair cut and eat out, and have a new dress at Easter. Heck, forget sacrificing to earn my freedom if I still have to make choices like I”m in bondage.

The truth is, that right now, looking at paper, it seems like a mountain that can’t be scaled. I beleive them when they say they wish it could be different. I beleive them when they say they want momma home with the baby. They just don’t see how it’s possible.

So here’s the deal. We often don’t get a luminated forecast that shows us how anything is possible. We get a “light unto our path” and we take a baby step at a time. But if seeing is believing, and the Lord showed Thomas those hands, then that’s my prayer. May the Lord surround them with assurance and confidence to make a deliberate choice, to step out boldly in freedom and power. May He give them all the illumination they need to see enough to believe.

Ruthie isn’t born yet. They have my love and my support no matter what they choose. Families trust one another during processes; life isn’t a series of static dots on a line graph most of the time. If roles were reversed (and they often are about different things) I hope they are on their knees praying for what is best for me. That’s where I am for them.

And now, as Forest would say, “that’s all I have to say ’bout that.”

Ohmygoodness!!!!! Am I ever EXCITED!!!!!!!

Smilin’ from ear to ear! :D

Did you sign up for the Debtective’s newsletter like I mentioned a few days ago???!?!? Today it came out!!! Hearing this blog was going to be the first “blog of the month” was fantastic but can any of you imagine my total, ear-spitting shriek of glee when I followed the link and heard DAVE, the MAN himself, read my letter on air and say my name?!?!?!?

OOOOOOOOowwwEEEEEE!! If I”d been driving that day we probably would have gotten in a major wreck!

I know, I know, I sound like a rabid fan! And I am! Because his Total Money Makeover gave me a shot of hope when I thought we’d tried everything and were about to fall over and fail bigger than we ever had before. His willingness to humbly say out loud that he screwed up but GOT BACK UP changed my life; it will probably change our family tree.

I was reminded this week how basic the advice is: he’s not kidding when he says it’s what your grandma tells you do. Spend less than you make. Live on a budget. Get out of debt and stay out. There’s a tender distinction though somewhere on the line between the advice and the inspiration to “go and do” and then, even harder, to stick with it when the going is tough. When you’re working three jobs and there isn’t an easy fix and the kids are looking for snacks that aren’t there and the world thinks you’re crazy. That tender distinition is where Dave’s gift is….it’s contagious and inspiring and he’s being totally used by God to help keep me focused on what we need to do.

So gee golly gee I can’t stop smilin’. The Debtective linked to an old post I made on one of those “down” days. It was cool for me to back and read it because sure enough a year later some things have changed, to God be the Glory:

• with a combination of working three jobs for half the year, then switching the primary job and working two, we’ve come very near to our goal of doubling our income this year. The cost of living has surprisingly soared but without this effort on our parts we wouldn’t be paying for it, we’d be charging it, which leads me to:
• with the exception of borrowing to get this house, we have not used consumer debt one single time in a whole year!!!!! That includes christmas, birthdays, lean times, and manna weeks.
• we are about halfway in our TMM and still have our eye on the mark. This may not be a big deal to some of you but to us, we are thrilled down to our little toes that we have consistantly stayed with it and are a stronger family team for it!

If we have christmas this year it will be because ebay went well. “Sellin’ some stuff” as Dave says. And if not, then we’ll do without. And we think that’s GRAND!!! We’re EXCITED!!!Because “doing without with a PLAN” is not just doing without, as in “poor me”.  Our goal is to be out of debt by June 2007 and if tax time goes well it will be sooner than that. We’re living like no one else cuz later, baby, we’re gonna live like no one else!!

Honest to goodness the only thing that could make me happier is to score tickets to a Live Event and thank the man in person. Better yet, come along with me on the Total Money Makeover path. If we can start it on 23k a year and four kids, you can do it too.

Who’s IN????????

Wheaton is scared of Brain. Make that terrified.

It started two night ago when I rolled over and “whooped”, seeing him standing at the side of my bed staring about 5 inches from my face with his huge blue eyes waiting for me to wake up and realize he needed me.

“Mom…I’m scared of that white mouse with the really big head.”

“the Brain?”

“Yeah, the giant brain. He’s in my room.”

(Thinking he might be making a joke about his know-it-all big brother on the top bunk would not be appropriate in the middle of the night).

“Can I sleep in your bed?”

“Uh….sure. C’mon in.”

Now, our queen sized bed is already quite full with two adults and a flopping toddler half the night. Adding in a 6 year old isn’t so easy! Usually he wedges down near our feet but that night he was up by our heads, “so Brain can’t get me”.

Yesterday he talked all day about the Brain. I mean ALL DAY.

“Is Brain real?”

“Why is he mad all the time? I don’t like it when his eyes go down. In my dream he had blood in his eyes cuz you told us to jab sharks in the eye if we were attacked.”

“Why does he want to take over the world? Does he want to blow us up?”

“I crossed myself last night and it helped me enough to get to your room so I could get in your bed.”

Finally, after talking to him about “fiction”, how Brain is just pretend, how his eyes are pink because he’s a rat and not bloody, etc, I tried to talk him into thinking about Pinky.

“Pinky is so stupid that he’ll make you laugh. So when you think of Brain, think of Pinky and you won’t be scared anymore.”

I tried some of their funny dialogs:

“Do you know what I”m thinking Pinky?” asks Brain.

“Sure Brain, but where are we going to get a toilet at this hour?”

He laughed. But that was at 4 pm.

Last night I rolled over and “whooped” in surprise again to see his face staring into my face, willing me to wake up.

“Mom…I peed the bed. Brain’s in my room again. He was waiting for me in the bathroom.”

This kid who potty trained himself at 18 months and has never once had any kind of dribble or accident since must be pretty danged scared of a cartoon character he’s seen exactly ONE time.

His older sister and brother were not the type to have nightmares. I”m not much help either; I was afraid of Hitler in the hallway until I was a fully grown adult. Anyone got an idea they’d like to share?