The fifty yards of tulle has left the building.

A young dancer friend, a budding choreographer, was promised access to a professional company's costume shop and then in the eleventh hour that was changed and he was left with a lovely piece of choreography and no costumes. Two tulle skirts and some dyeing of leotards and tights later, I am grateful I had the chance to be of help. It was fun to play with the fluffy stuff, but I need to get back on the track of Spring Cleaning. I am grateful to be done, as well.

The boys have been pretty good about keeping their rooms in good shape. That was where the cleaning began. The younger is a minimalist and so that takes him very little time. The oldest reminds me of....well, me at that age and if I look at it in that context, his room is awesome. It still may teeter precariously on the fire code's desire for clear exits, but it's not bad, I guess.

We are coming to the realization that the oldest will most likely be leaving us in the fall. He is definitely leaving for part of the summer, but it looks like he may have a chance at a boarding situation to pursue his dream. We are focusing on getting him prepared to be a little more responsible and able to feed himself, make healthy decisions, maintain clothing and necessities.

He's also earned a learner's permit for driving and we are dealing with that. I am grateful my husband has taken that teaching hat for the beginning portion. I'm sure I would be able to do it, but I'm a bit more reactive and emotional. And...nervous. Yes, I admit, I am a Nervous Nellie. Once he gets going I will be fine (relatively) in the passenger's seat, but it's better I don't sit there for a while.

Random occurrences, thoughts and observances:

I scored some drapes for the dining room at my favorite thrift store!!

I've had a lot more scrutiny than usual on the homeschool aspect of our lives.

I have a lot of stuff...Moving has always been good for getting rid of stuff, it's just that we stayed in the last place nearly ten years. So, I'm wondering if I can get rid of some more stuff without moving to help...I guess that means I'm pondering a garage sale...sigh...

Many thoughts about what "acting one's age" means to me. As I near the half-century mark I'm looking forward and backwards quite a bit. Asking myself how the road led here and where does it turn over the next hill.

It smells like Spring outside.

Counting it all joy,

Julie

All or Nothing? Or Maybe a Little...?

 Cast away from you all your transgressions which you have committed and make yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! For why will you die, O house of Israel? Ezekiel 18:31

Before Lent I read a suggestion that instead of giving some things up to try moderation. The writer suggested that moderation is harder than total fasting from a thing. I would be inclined to agree. And apparently Ezekiel was of the same mind. The Scripture says "Cast away from you all your transgressions..." The Scripture says to be "new". 

Some families choose to honor Sundays as a "mini-feast" or a "mini-Easter." Some families choose not to practice this with vehemence. Until ten years ago, I didn't know it was an option! I don't know where I was, maybe I missed that day at Parochial school. If you count "these forty days of Lent," indeed, there are more than forty if you count Sundays, so the practice makes total sense. Late to the party, I thought this was brilliant and decided to give it a go. Truly it was harder to indulge on Sundays and resume abstinence on Mondays.

I'm not diminishing moderation. I can't give up eating, totally. I must learn to eat in a manner that is healthy. I must choose to put the best things I can into my body. There may be things that are fine for other people that will not do for me. I may be more sensitive to some things than most people. I may be fine with things that others cannot have. But it is easier to get rid of something completely than to try to maintain control. In the last year my family moved. I found it was easier to change some bad habits living in a new home. Sadly I found some other bad habits...or perhaps they found me. 

This Lent I am trying both methods--total fasting in some areas and moderation in others. I think I am seeing many areas of weakness brought to light both ways. 

What practices do you observe and do you choose fasting and abstinence or moderation?

Counting it all joy,

Julie

Happy Time Change!!

Which one speaks to you more?

 Most of us tolerate the "Fall Back" time change a little better than the "Spring Forward," but I think most would agree that messing with "time" messes with us.

We went to Mass last night. The chaotic rush to church on the Sunday of Daylight Savings time does little to exhort us to holiness. In fact it may cause us to dance a little too near sin. So we agreed to Saturday Mass and I changed the clocks when we got home.

I have two teens, so sleep is premium around here. My oldest is on a kick that time is relative (he's right). And my youngest lives virtually in England (in his heart and via the internet). My husband has periods of 24 hours on call and occasional technology crises. So this household is not unaccustomed to dealing with messed up sleep, But I always dislike the socially imposed time change.

I wonder what would happen if I refused. Hmmmmmm....

Joyfully adjusting,

Julie

Backsliding Children

I don't like to be called childish. I've attained a certain number of years. I spent much of my past feeling very immature compared to my peers. Whether I was or not was perception I suppose. But events through the last few years have changed me and finally I don't feel like a child. I get up and I creak. I move slowly. I take medications to keep me functioning properly. I have learned to think before I speak more often than not. (A miracle some might say.) I hardly ever watch television. I put others' needs before mine--albeit grudgingly sometimes. I do what needs to be done. Perhaps not always cheerfully. But I do it. I go to church. I say my prayers. I'm not perfect, but pretty good. Right?

But GOD tells me I am childish and worse yet, backsliding. 

And, of course, He is right.

 Go and proclaim these devarim toward the north, and say, Return, thou meshuvah Yisroel, saith Hashem; and I will not cast down Mine anger to fall upon you; for I am chasid (displaying chesed, mercy), saith Hashem, and I will not keep anger l’olam. Only acknowledge thine avon (iniquity, guilt of wrongdoing), that thou hast rebelled against Hashem your G-d, and hast scattered thy favors to the zarim under every green tree, and ye have not obeyed My voice, saith Hashem. Shuvu (Turn), O banim shovaviv (backsliding children), saith Hashem; for I am married unto you: and I will take you one from a town, and two from a mishpakhah, and I will bring you to Tziyon  Yirmeyah 3: 12-14 OJB

From today's noon reading in Jeremiah we hear GOD speak to His people, His children who have turned away. I looked through a few translations some say "fatherless children," one says "revolting children," a couple say "backsliding," one says "disloyal."  some calls the children "faithless." All but one that I looked at called them/us--me--children. 

If I am "fatherless" it is not the Father that has changed. It is me...I backslide--I have good plans and then I get distracted by my poorer, previous choices. I revolt. I change my ways. See the new way is better. I feel better. Life is better. But then I listen to sin and say..."Just once more won't hurt." I am disloyal. I pick the world over the Father. I am "faithless." For if I were "faithFUL" I would believe what I know to be true and behave accordingly. Oh, yes...I am childish. 

Not even three days into Lent and I am wrestling with habits and temptation. But not to despair. I can pick up my cross again and again. I can turn back and try once more to be mature, loyal, faithful and loved by my merciful Father, through the blood of His most holy Son. 

So go and shout words towards the north, and say: "Come back, disloyal Israel, Yahweh/the LORD declares, I shall frown on you no more, since I am merciful,Yahweh/the LORD declares. I shall not keep my anger for ever. Only acknowledge your guilt: how you have rebelled against Yahweh/the LORD your God, how you have prostituted yourself with the Strangers under every green tree and have not listened to my voice,Yahweh/the LORD declares. "Come back, disloyal children,Yahweh/the LORD declares, for I alone am your Master, and I will take you, one from a town, two from a family, and bring you to Zion Jeremiah 3:12-14 NJB

Again, today I choose Christ. 

Counting it all joy, 

Julie

The Sin of Pride

"Excuse me...you have something on your head." says some tentative stranger. "Ummm...yes, those are ashes. It is Ash Wednesday." I reply.

"Oh, I forgot it was Ash Wednesday!" exclaims a non-practicing friend.

One day a year I allow a mark to be placed on my head and go out into the world to face strangers. The mark proclaims who I believe I belong to. It is more personal than any t-shirt or any piece of jewelry. It is right between my eyes so that if someone is to talk to me directly they have no choice but to see it. To see the cross in the ashes on my head.

That day was yesterday and while I've practiced the acceptance of ashes for a good part of my life, it never fails to make me uncomfortable. It is hard to walk around with a cross on your head. Our society is uncomfortable with that. The cross is not gold, not wooden, not even the palms that we sometimes weave out of Palm Sunday palms...but ashes. It is not a cross of pride, but admittance that we are unable to fix our situation of sin on our own. We need the cross that was on Calvary. We need the Lamb who bore our sin and suffering. And He did. And He will stand before the Father for us. To allow us to have the joy of heaven.

Why is it so awkward to walk around with ashes on my head for less than twenty-four hours?

Count it all joy,

Julie

Finding Stillness on the Internet

Return to me, says the Lord of Hosts, and I will return to you. Do not be like your ancestors, to whom the prophets in the past cried ‘Turn back from your evil ways and evil deeds’ but they would not listen. Zechariah 1:3-4

I've been yearning for Lent, lately. Things have gotten out of hand. The world has gotten loud. While I've gotten rid of some bad habits, I've also given into other bad habits. Why couldn't I just let go, use a little self-discipline and make better choices on my own? I don't know. Sometimes, for me it takes Lent to refocus, re-prioritize and reawaken the desires for simplicity. The desires to choose better choices. Maybe it's just me. 

Lent begins today, and on a day when many people are giving up all things internet, all things technology, all things social media...I...am not. 

My poor desolate, little blog...I realized it has been nearly two years since I have updated. And I miss it. It was my quiet space in the midst of all the chaos. I think I am going to try blogging for Lent. Looking back, blogging often was a good time to sort out questions and theories. Blogging caused me to pray differently. It was a good journal for memories that I might have otherwise forgotten. And truthfully when I say that I am a bit sad that I've let two years go by. But I had my reasons. And now...I have other reasons to return. And times I know I am not going to want to forget. 

No promises for how well I will do visiting. I am setting timers for myself during Lent to prevent falling down into the rabbit hole and getting sucked into the Wonderland of the web. For now...I'm just going to see where I am led. 

Count it all joy, 

Julie

FOR TODAY ...March 5, 2012

Outside my window...Sunshine, light breeze, spring smells.

I am thinking...I am running behind today. Sadly, this is not unusual.

I am thankful for...Homeschooling. I cannot imagine our life if we did otherwise.

From the learning rooms...Youngest is working through a year of folk tales, mythology, fables, fairy tales, fantasy and poetry. Oldest is still adjusting to the demands of an eighth grade schedule, plus two hours of piano, plus three to four hours of dance all crammed into one day.

From the kitchen...left over pizza for one, tamales, chimis and burritos for the other two boys (husband is counted in my "boys" a lot of the time--while always a hard worker, he is somewhat of a class clown--my youngest is THE class clown, though).

I am wearing...not what I should be. Still in jammies.

I am creating...still working on the same projects, a shawl, a scarf, some jewelry.

I am going...to take the oldest to dance and I will visit the pool while I wait.

I am reading...cooking magazines, looking for low-fat, low-carb, low-acidic, tasty & healthy meals to accommodate my family's many needs. Did I mention I have a couple of picky eaters (oldest is NOT one of them)?

I am hoping...to have a helpful appointment with youngest & his doctor tomorrow.

I am hearing...my children discuss technology. Sigh...not what the topic should be, but they're quite animated and knowledgeable.

Around the house...weeding, sorting, praying for more room.

One of my favorite things...my new refrigerator. It holds what it needs to and does not leak on my floor.

A few plans for the rest of the week: putting one foot in front of the other, trying to not get distracted...

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

Pretty much my view each afternoon--mine does not have red trim. Gas prices are really getting crazy, huh?

How are you doing???

Be blessed!

Julie


Visit Peggy at the Simple Woman's Daybook to find more daybookers.

20 Years of Medical Practice Affects My Navel Gazing

So I went to see a new doctor (an internist); because, after two visits in July and August with complaints about my knee, specifically, combined with other joint pain and a overall sense of unwellness, the old doc told me, "As we age it just takes more time to heal. Let me know if it gets worse"

Which was doctor speak for, "It's in your head, get over it." And, just like that, she was out the door before I could ask questions. And, "Oh, by the way, let's just do everything via e-mail from now on." As in "We don't want to hear your voice on the phone because we are too busy to talk to you."

Luckily (and only 6 months later!), the orthopedic I took myself to did NOT think I was crazy. Of course he had the MRI and x-rays to consult. I learned a lot, but he is an orthopedic--and a resident to boot, so I likely will not be able to return to him, so I went searching for a new doctor.

There was the FP doctor I had seen at the practice my husband is/was using (another story for another day) and he also DID NOT think I was crazy. I would have gone back to him, but since my husband was struggling with the front office staff (the wife of the doctor who owns the practice), I decided to strike out for different pastures.

The new doctor, a woman, has a bio that lists her time prior to practice as a pharmacist. I am always concerned about drug interaction and the affects of meds on my blood sugar. I have a handful of issues that are starting to add up and I want someone to direct my medical care besides...well...me. This was going to be awesome.

Well...Dear Doctor-lady took one look at me and decided I was Holly Homemaker with nary a brain in my head. She ignored what I perceived to be my problems and gave me her best advice..."Watch Dr. Oz while you are ironing. He's got good advice for diets."

Really? Twenty years and that's whatcha got, lady?

Actually I did not say that.

I was in such shock, I just dumbly and numbly looked at her and let the rest of the whole five minutes of thorough medical care pass me by. I sat for a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time waiting for lab work and then was shown the door.

Come back in a month.

I made it to the parking lot before crying. I sat there and just sobbed.

Her medical assumption of my person doesn't line up with my perception of myself. I've always seen myself as knowledgeable, and well-spoken. But maybe I am what she saw. I've been mulling that over. I know I don't look like a career woman, but really, do I look like, well...what do I look like?

So, anyhoo...I've been trying to decide what to do about her and trying to decide what to do about me. This should not be so traumatic, but it is. Part of it is facing my age and the fact that I will not be returning to 20, 25, 30 or even 40 anytime soon. OK...never. Even if I can get back in shape. It will be shape housed in a mature home.

And what do I think of myself? Can I allow fifteen minutes with a stranger to redefine who I think I am?

I've spent the last eighteen months dealing with several issues: family, health, spiritual, relationships, that have shaken me to my foundation. I finally thought I had regained my identity. And now this.

I am proud to be a homeschool mom and all that entails. I spend an inordinate amount of time chauffeuring, scheduling, meal-planning...blah, blah, blah. I am glad I am available to help other people (not my children) in my life that need me. I recently helped a friend proof-read parts of her book. The CEO of a non-profit organization asked for a few hours of my time to get input into the issues concerning their school (people like that usually don't bother with unintelligent people, do they? I don't have any money, so that's not the reason for the time). I play a stupid video game, I read, I explore many crafting options. But I don't watch television much and I DON'T IRON!!!!

Last night was the first night since the appointment that I did not dream about the whole doctor's visit. This was the first morning I got through without tearing up.

Obviously, I've allowed this to balloon into more than it should be. And so I am spewing it out to the internet. Maybe that will shake the blues that settled on my shoulders off.

Moving on...

Which Child Am I?

The Parable of the Two Sons
Matthew 21:28-32(NKJV)

...But what do you think? A man had two sons, and he came to the first and said, "Son, go, work today in my vineyard." He answered and said, "I will not," but afterward he regretted it and went. Then he came to the second and said likewise. And he answered and said, "I go, sir," but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?

They said to Him, “The first.”

Jesus said to them, “Assuredly, I say to you that tax collectors and harlots enter the kingdom of God before you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him; but tax collectors and harlots believed him; and when you saw it, you did not afterward relent and believe him.

This verse has stuck with me for a long time. This is the verse that got me thinking about responses.

I think there was a third son. Did you know there was a third son? Jesus did not even find it worthwhile to talk about him.

I would like to think of myself as the first son, but more often than not I am the second son. Even worse, more often than that I am the third son that Jesus never mentions. The third son doesn't even try to do the right thing; doesn't even say, "Yes." I am the son that just says, "No." to begin with and doesn't even reconsider.

My versions of saying, "No." often are about waste. They include: Wasting thoughts; wasting time; wasting talent; wasting precious moments with loved ones; wasting resources.

When I talk to my boys about wasting money, I tell them it is like taking a dollar bill and setting it on fire--a very good visual. I am trying to create visuals for myself that will help me to waste less, respond with love.

Which child are you? How do you choose good responses?

Lost for Words

When I was a child I read the dictionary. For fun. I read the phone book, too. Yeah...I was that kind of kid.

But the upside of my wild youth was that, as an adult, I used to be the person everyone would ask for a definition, a better word choice, an idea for how to "say things." And then I met menopause.

Besides the delight of hot-flashes, mood-swings to top any I had ever had before and sleeplessness, besides all of that, I lost my words. The boys will ask me a question and I know the answer. It just gets stuck between my brain and my mouth. For the first time in my life I am at a loss for words. (My husband is a bit surprised by this.)

So, that is why it took me until January 9th to write my first blog post of the year. I was searching for my words. Or rather, searching for the word.

I'm not sure when it became the popular thing to do to have a word to sum up what one wanted for the upcoming year, but I know it was going on when I started this blog and the word I picked was "JOY."

"JOY" is a wonderful word and I am not giving it up. 2010 and 2011 were years to test my resolve for "joy in all things." I lost the battle more than a few times. 2012 definitely needs me to focus on joy, but I felt I needed another word to restart myself on a better path than the one I was on.

So, for me, 2012 is going to be a year of "RESPONSE." That took a lot of work to find that particular word. Not an unusual word or an especially creative word. But I have so many ideas of what I want to happen this year. And I felt the need to sum it up in one word.

I finally realized that if we are to be God's children, we are called to respond. To everything. Every person, every situation, every moment of the day we are called to respond to HIM. When we do nothing, it is a response. When we throw our hearts into something, it is a response. The half-way answer, the luke-warm gesture...also a response.

My ponderings the last few days on this word have led me many directions. My hope is that I can, again, come back to "blog-land", and work out my day to day living in words. We shall see.

I've missed my blogging friends. I've burrowed down a hole for a while. Forgive me for my lack of presence. Many blogging friends have been on my heart and in my prayers quite often, but I couldn't find it in myself to surface and say so very often. For that I am sorry. I hope I can retrace my steps and get back to where I was.

2012...Let's see what your response is.

Daybook...March 21, 2011

FOR TODAY ...March 21, 2011...

Outside my window...My windows are open!! I love this weather! The sun is shining, the birds are singing, there is a light breeze! Sounds like the beginning of a cliche, but I will take it.

I am thinking...of making a large change in the way we do things around here. There is the potential for upheaval and drama, but the end goal is a little more peace and family time.

I am thankful for...a husband who lets me work out my thoughts out loud. Children who are ready to take a leap of faith and trust our judgment.

From the learning rooms...Roo is working on Italy; Boo is learning about Ireland. Reports at the end of the year.

From the kitchen...TBLTs for lunch...Turkey bacon. My sandwich will be with rye and some feta cheese, because I'm just crazy like that.

I am wearing...clothes from doing yoga.

I am creating...a bag, two shawls, some scarves and socks! Has anyone else done this type of knitting?

I am going...to finish what we started, but start gearing up for a new plan.

I am reading...the same books I was last week.

I am hoping...that I speak with gentleness, but remain firm in my convictions.

I am hearing...BIRDS!!

Around the house...hopefully we can get into the garage soon to sort and organize.

One of my favorite things...music. My husband hooked up a CD player in my room so I can have my music when I want.

A few plans for the rest of the week:much driving, rehearsal for Roo, a show at the end of the week.


Visit Peggy at the Simple Woman's Daybook to find more daybookers.

Where God Wants You to Be

"When you are where you least want to be, you are exactly where God wants you to be."

More than two years ago a wise woman told me this. I have had this quote in my drafts since then. I knew it was important. I kept coming back to it. Recently, I realized that it fits a topic that has been rolling around in my brain for the last few weeks: This is totally not the life I had planned.

Not making excuses for my drop off the blogging grid for part of last year, there were a few posts but not many. This blog, it seems is somewhat a mirror to my heart. Things got out of hand. I didn't do a lot of things I usually do. When things get out of hand I tend to be a clam. With the shell closed. For those who really know me, this says it all: I did not decorate last year for Christmas as I have in years past. How I deal with Christmas is usually a good thermometer of the state of internal affairs.

Now just so you know, I am not unhappy with my life. I have even accepted that I will likely grow old in this duplex. But this is not where I thought I would be. These are not the plans I had made.

Man makes plans and God laughs. Yiddish proverb

From the time I was twelve I would tell people I did not want to get married. I did NOT WANT CHILDREN.

When I was eighteen I had a steady boyfriend and a pastel rainbow wedding planned. My house would be neutral and the accessories would change colors with the seasons. By accessories I did not mean books. I liked books--but I wanted fancy things.

When I was twenty-two I decided I wanted to be a teacher. I graduated with an advertising and public relations degree.

When I was twenty-five I thought I would spend my life with an electrician and have horses.

When I was twenty-eight I married a man who was unemployed (after he had been MY employee) and we said we would never have kids. We thought the homeschoolers down the road were very weird.

When I was thirty-three I had a baby. Quit my job with questionable finances. Decided I would homeschool this child (before he was born). Wanted to raise livestock and live "off the grid." We would hunt for or raise our food. My husband worked in IT.

When I was thirty-six I had baby number two. I wanted to show dogs. I still wanted to homeschool my sons. I would be the perfect mother who cooked nutritious meals, read to her children and discussed poetry over tea. Proper tea.

The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it. Flannery O'Connor

The truth is...

I would love to have time to make homemadefromscratch cookies for my boys.

I buy cookbooks and recipe magazines like some people by fashion periodicals. But I will only make a handful of the delicious meals I see. My husband cooks as often, if not more than I do.

I would love to craft more. I would love for my house to be lovely.

I would like to have fewer electronics and less time in the car.

But I don't.

I will say I did become a teacher...just not a traditional one. I live in suburbia (Duplexopolis, to be exact), spend near thirty hours a week in the downtown area of a major city, homeschool my children, have no time for plants let alone livestock. My books are out of control and "decorate" my whole house. Space not taken up by books is consumed by yarn. My husband works out of our home via the internet on systems sometimes over a thousand miles away. In the middle of the night quite often.

My children have never hiked, planted a garden, milked a cow, trained a dog, raised chickens. They just learned to properly swim this summer. They have never hunted (although they have been trained to properly handle fire@rms). They don't ride bikes or skateboards (much to my youngest's disappointment). They DO play video games and watch television. I am going to be lucky if I can get the poetry section to be a hit in a month or so.

They don't drink tea.

But...

My boys play piano beautifully. They read classics and not so classics. They are comfortable with people of all ages. The oldest is somewhat conversant in classical music and likes to visit the art museum. They know about opera. And..my sons, my sons dance. Pretty well, I might add. They dance a lot. They dragged me halfway across this gorgeous nation this summer so they could dance. The oldest dances as many hours a week as some grown-ups do professionally.

Dance drives our lives more often than I would like to admit. As I speak things are in upheaval because of their dancing.

We had somethings we knew needed to change. My prayer was that God would make the decision a no-brainer for us and point us in the direction He wanted us to go. In at least one area He has been quite clear. And all day yesterday I wrestled with His answer. I am praying for a little more guidance. I have a feeling more answers are forthcoming, and, as in the past, I will be questioning my plea for clarity.

This morning I am "not where I want to be." But I am where God placed me. I am where God wants me to be. He is in control. I need to remember to live in this moment and be where I am; to live in the present and not try to mess with a future that only HE knows.

Are you where you want to be?

God, Father Almighty, please help me to focus on you and to teach my children to allow you to be in control of our destination. Please help us remember the ultimate destination and not to become worried about things we cannot control. Thank you for all of the blessings we have received abundantly. Teach us to be good stewards of our time, talent and treasures.

Counting it all joy, albeit, tentatively,

Julie

Daybook...March 14, 2011

FOR TODAY ...March 14, 2011...

Outside my window...IT IS SNOWING!!!! Really? I need to get on the road!

I am thinking..."REALLY???? I need to get on the road!"

I am thankful for...My husband who has been very understanding on this long journey to menopause--that is still not over.

From the learning rooms...One boy does school on the road, one boy does school at home with Dad.

From the kitchen... I will not be in mine.

I am wearing... Pajamas. I need to get dressed and on the road. But it's SNOWING!

I am creating...I have about seven knitting projects going. My goal is to finish ONE, 1, one, uno, next week.

I am going...to take care of a relatives needs for a short while.

I am reading...Salem Falls, by Jodi Picoult and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (yes, again).

I am hoping...for safe travel. Actually, I am praying for that.

I am hearing...the clock ticking.

Around the house...Everyone else is asleep.

One of my favorite things...a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

A few plans for the rest of the week:Driving...

No picture today. Hopefully, I can start sharing some soon.

Off the computer now. Must load the van. Hopefully the snow will lighten up soon. Will be visiting my bloggy neighbors this evening when Boo and I touch down.

Visit Peggy at the Simple Woman's Daybook to find more daybookers.

Acclimating

ac·cli·mate Verb /ˈakləˌmāt/ /əˈklīmit/

1. To accustom or become accustomed to a new climate or environment or new conditions; to adapt.
2. Respond physiologically or behaviorally to a change in a single environmental factor
3. Harden off (a plant)

I love it when I've finally acclimated to winter. I can wear one pair of normal socks in the house. I can wear one layer of clothing inside. I can open the door and not cringe. I can run out and warm up the car with a sweater thrown over my shoulders instead of completely bundling completely up. Hopefully it's not because I've added too many layers to my personal insulation. (I'm not stepping on the scale today to find out!)

Basically I've adapted to this winter and the snow and the wind and the cold.

Just in time for the weather to take a turn and show signs of spring.

But I'm not complaining. I am willing to return to warmer temperatures. I am willing to see the green grass and robins. I'd like to try to start (and acclimate a few garden plants this year).

Chameleons adapt to their surroundings to avoid sticking out and become an easy target for predators.

Acclimating to me seems like it should be a good thing. But I don't know that it always is.

I find myself acclimating to my surroundings pretty easily. I don't know about you, but I find myself out in "the world" on a daily basis. And it seems easier to acclimate myself to "the world" than to brace myself and hold on to the things I know to be better choices.

When the boys were little it seemed easier to stay insulated and, dare I say, safe. Now we are gone from home six and sometimes seven nights a week. We are surrounded by choices. Not all of them bad, but not all of them what I would wish for our family.

So often it seems easier to shed a few layers of personal convictions to avoid conflict and difficult discussions. It seems easier to at least avoid talking about beliefs and convictions anyway.

I am grateful that the LORD has blessed me and surrounded me by women who share my faith, but more and more I see, that while we can talk amongst ourselves, topics turn other directions when we are joined by others with different political or religious leanings.

Perhaps we are all acclimating.

How do you keep from acclimating to the world?

I have, in the past, "fasted" my blog for Lent. Considering that I haven't blogged for ages, and that there has been a pressure on my heart telling me it is time to return, I am fasting some other things and returning to my blog. Not all of my bloggy postings will be deep and spiritual, I am sure. But I feel the need to be obedient in returning. So...I am going to try. We shall see.

Heavenly Father, I thank you that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. You have created us to adapt and survive in many climates and situations. Please protect our hearts from becoming acclimated to worldly things. Help us to change our corner of the world to your glory. Amen.

Finding joy in all things,

Julie

Daybook...April 12, 2010

FOR TODAY ...April 12, 2010...

Outside my window...all the birds are busy! The sun is working it's way up and the air is very cool.

I am thinking...I should be getting ready to go to my doctor's appointment. Could I be procrastinating? Hmmmm...

I am thankful for...very good friends. For prayers. To everyone who held us up in prayer, many thanks. Things seem to be settling down and improving.

From the learning rooms...I've settled on a rough plan for next year--very happy!

From the kitchen...this is a late night for the boys tonight, I need to get creative. But I don't have any good ideas.

I am wearing...still in my jammies.

I am creating...a knitted afghan.

I am going...to the doctor's, to retrieve my sunglasses from my friend's house, to the library, to ballet...too many places.

I am reading...Allon:Book 1 by Shawn Lamb. It is really a good book so far.

I am hoping...for some downtime one of these days.

I am hearing...my small fan, the birds and light traffic.

Around the house...the crabby old cat says I didn't feed him enough. He lies.

One of my favorite things...the canopy is up over the patio. I enjoy sitting out with my husband and talking.

A few plans for the rest of the week:my oldest has a show this weekend. Our week is full of rehearsals, driving and chaos. But next week...we will get a small reprieve.

Visit Peggy at the Simple Woman's Daybook to find more daybookers.

Laryngitis of the Blog

I lost my voice for a while.

No, I didn't really have laryngitis. At least not the vocal kind (although, perhaps my children wouldn't have minded a bit). I've experienced what some might call "writer's block" but it was that and more. It spilled over into a lot of daily living. The outcome was that I've not been visibly "around" much here. In all honesty, I have been on FaceBook and Twitter, but those are so different. They can consume a lot of time--but they are different.

A couple things happened. Around October I was continually getting a sense that the LORD was telling me that I needed to take a break from my blog. Really? I didn't want to hear that. And I didn't want to announce I was taking a break, because I kept thinking I would "get better" and/or I wouldn't really be able to take a break after saying I was.

One problem with naming your blog "Joyful Days" is that there is a perceived (and maybe only by me) notion that my post should/will be positive. Naming my blog "Joyful Days" however was a challenge to myself. I wanted to start finding "joy in all things" I wanted to see joy in the tiny blessings as well as in the huge miracles. I still believe joy is a choice. I've seen what happens to people who choose to be the antithesis of joy--grouchy, depressed, angry, obstinate...in a word--me.

I've been hesitant to talk about my health issues--certainly not large and devastating, more of the chronic and persistent type...just annoying really, and in the grand scheme of things, very manageable. I didn't want to talk about them much because I didn't want my blog to go that direction even though those things are very much a part of who I am. I didn't want to define myself that way then.

But I have found joy is easier when you are addressing your health issues. My diagnosis of hypothyroidism was a blessing. Depression comes in many forms. I was experiencing sometimes debilitating depression--the depression that took all the energy I had to get out of bed. That kind and other depressions that are caused by chemical imbalances are not depressions that involve choice. But after my blanket of gauze was lifted I saw patterns I had allowed to creep into my life..."Poor me, life is unfair, people are mean..." Well those things are true sometimes, but the better choice is to see the "blessed me." I know I don't deserve all of the blessings I have and I've seen most often people are so kind.

Pre-diabetes has become part of my vocabulary. And when it did I finally chose to lose weight however I could get it off without surgery or medication (other than my thyroid medication, I guess). I've been hesitant to talk about my weight loss, but last year I lost 50 lbs. I've been worried lest I say anything and every last ounce will jump back on my body. My choice of diets has been debated in "real life" and while it is a choice due to my health issues, most people don't like the idea. My choice of exercise has taken a few hits too. Those two things combined with a few others molded my health choices last year. In all likelihood, now that I am a little more comfortable with them, I can share a little more.

My blog found some new readership and I had to decide how much personal information I can allow out here--both my personal "stuff" and my children's and the stuff that belongs to others in my life. I've been hesitant to talk about anything controversial or potentially offending.

Apparently I can be controversial and offending without intending to.

I've been hesitant to post about the reality of my days lest I sound like I'm boasting or worse whining--that "joyful days" thing again.

So, what have I been up to?

Exercise and diet. The road to "healthy" has helped me choose joy.

I found myself slipping a lot in my witness. Asking myself the "What Would Jesus Do?" question more often; asking myself if my action is "Christian" helps in finding joy--it is oftentimes inconvenient and takes a little extra thought--but the reality is liberating.

One more joyful thing is that I've been sleeping more. Part of my research shows that as you age you should get a certain amount of sleep. For quite a few years I worked overnights and still came home to school the boys during the day. That kind of lifestyle catches up with one sooner or later. So four or five nights a week I am in bed before eleven, which for me is huge.

I've pushed my children in ways I said I would not. I've allowed my children things I thought I wouldn't--still surprised when I realize how culturally deficient we are--why do I feel the need to apologize for that?

Driving lots of driving

Sitting and waiting.

Knitting

School--although I daily feel inadequate, and humbled by the children God has given me.

Trying to keep clothes clean and food on the table.

Facebook, Farmville, Farm Town, and Twitter.

Hopefully hitting "Publish Post" will help me blog again. I miss my blog. I miss my bloggy friends. Maybe I can get back on track...

Count it all joy,

Julie

Notes from the Sofa--Thank God for Sticky Shoes

Finished up Week 8 of our homeschool adventure this school year.

Week 8 was not the high point of this adventure.

I'm just saying.

Let's be real. Some days just aren't bouncy, happy, everything-is-fine days. Some weeks are better than others.

This last one wasn't.

In my quest to be a good (homeschool/ballet/music/fun/gamer) mom, I try to share the victories with my friends and family. Victories are fun. I would hate to scare someone off who is considering homeschooling. It is a wonderful experience. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

So if you are new to this blog, considering homeschooling, why don't you go visit some of the wonderful blogs listed on my sidebar? Many are homeschoolers, and if they're not, they are lovely people who will share wonderful cheerful thoughts about life and you will feel great about reading their posts.

What? You're still here...okay...warned.

But there are moments. Moments when I would like to push "Reset" for. So this post will be honest, transparent and offer full disclosure--okay, maybe not full, but partial disclosure...weeellllll maybe just enough disclosure that a couple people might read this blog again. What I am saying is that I will more transparent than the current administration--not hard. Yes, I'm in a mood.

Week 8 started off alright. The boys actually did some work in the car because we were traveling home on Labor Day. Boo wanted to know why he had to labor on Labor Day. I offered to let him off the hook and do it all on Tuesday, and, just wondering, what better was he going to do on a four hour car ride, anyway? He chose my way...good boy.

Boo is reading Finding Out About Everyday Things--an older Usborne book. It is more about the way thing used to work, but I think that helps to know how things have been and shows the advances in technology. He also finished Henry Huggins and is reading Elmer and the Dragon, the second book in the My Father's Dragon series by Ruth Stiles Gannett. He's enjoying it and it would be a great read for other readers from third to sixth grade.

Roo and I had an hour long discussion of slavery and the Civil War during that ride. Poor child was a captive audience. I usually don't go into lecture mode. But it was just something I was passionate about. He still loves me and promises to listen in the future.

Tuesday saw a pretty productive day, Roo had a three hour rehearsal thrown in at the end. Getting home after 8:30 was kind of a bummer for both of us. But all in all, it was a good day.

Wednesday included reading, as always. Roo is working his way through The Way Things Work. I was fortunate enough to pick up our copy at The Half Price Book Store for $1!! Roo has enjoyed the section on levers and has increased my knowledge by sharing all he has learned about levers. Fascinating stuff!! I love all these pieces of knowledge that they are thrilled about and want to share.

But Wednesday is where the slope started getting slippery. Boo woke up saying he felt bad and could he just sleep? I wish I could tell you my motherly instinct saw his discomfort and that I cossetted him and pampered him. But...she says hanging her head in shame...I cajoled him and tried to get him to pony up and do some work. No, I did not check his temperature...no, I did not do any of the good momma stuff I should have. Until later when I realized he had a fever. Ugh...now we both felt bad--he felt sick and I felt like a toad.

Wednesday was also the most miserable night the four and a half hour night at ballet for Roo--the first official night of the ballet school year. And Roo had no intention of missing that. In fact Boo thought he could make it to that. Hello?? Temperature?? Chills?? I may have been dense for a while, but once I catch on, I know what the right answer is.

Thankfully my hubby works from home and Boo was by then positioned on the sofa with an I Love Lucy episode and pillow and blanket. So Roo and I hauled down the road to ballet with our carpool kids. Where he worked hard and I sat and stewed about what a terrible parent I am.

We got home after 9:30. Ugh.

Thursday was an independent work day for Roo, because Boo and I sat for two hours in the doctors office for less than five minutes of face time so the doctor could confirm the diagnosis I was already convinced of--Strep.

Then it was a race home to drop Boo off with Daddy and Roo so I could run to the pharmacy (the wait for filled Rx's was over an hour). I dropped the prescription off, ran home ate lunch between 2:35 and 2:40, put make-up on (because I had not had a chance earlier) made the most excellent cup of coffee I have made in a long time, drank half of it...and proceeded to baptize the table (with all Roo's school work), the floor (the dog won't lick up coffee-drat), my favorite pair of shoes, my shirt, a calculator and a fabric pencil case with the rest.

My favorite shoes. It was almost too much. I went sticky-sticky-sticky all the way from the parking lot to the pharmacy counter and sticky-sticky-sticky all the way back. My husband tried to clean them up for me...but all night, I kept smelling Eau de café--wait--that was me.

Boo had another night at home, much to his dismay. Roo and I rushed to pick up the girls and made it to the studio on time. I got to sit with my favorite group of moms and another mom joined us. I've always enjoyed talking to her. She's another homeschooler, but her child is older and in advanced levels. She's got a lot of good insights, she's witty, smart and open. She chose to ask me, "If you sent your child to a public school and they got a bad education, you could always blame their teachers. Aren't you ever afraid that some day they're going to decide you missed something--and it will be all your fault?"

Gulp...

Well...honestly, yes, but today I still feel like a toad and I don't want to think about THAT! Yikes!

Truly, I enjoyed her company and hope we can talk again. Just maybe when I'm not feeling warty and all. Ya know?

Today, Boo is bouncing around the house. Much improved. Medicine-a-phobic that I am, I know that sometimes a good antibiotic is the only answer. I am grateful for both my boys who love me despite my warts. My husband who for some unknown reason still loves me and is home most days, and all the blessings we have.

Today, I am grateful that I started school early because if this had been my first week of getting back to school with the boys I would have melted into a pile of goo.

Today I am grateful for doctors.

Today, I am grateful I got to half half of the best cup of coffee I've made in a long time...it was better than none at all.

Heavenly Father, I thank you for sticky shoes and cluttered houses and unfinished work. I thank you for people who aren't afraid to admit to having weaknesses and help me to admit I'm not perfect either.

God of spilled coffee, red lights, long car rides, infections, old cats, hairy dogs, sunshine and rain, rushing and rest, LORD of unfathomable heaven and messy, dirty earth, I thank you for this week. I thank you for my family and friends, I thank you for holding us up when we are tired and holding our children when they are sick and their parents are slow to catch on.

Help me keep my focus on you. Help me to see my little inconveniences for just that and to laugh at the bumps in the road. Make me stronger for the truly difficult times and always let me feel Your Presence. Amen.

Counting it all joy,

Julie

Above sofa found here.

Reset Button

I don't know if I mentioned it, but I am a packrat crafter. I don't throw anything away. Even if it is outdated, almost empty, useless or worse...broken. I hang on to lots of stuff because, you know, you just never know, it might be useful. Okay, I guess I do throw some stuff away, like the science projects that find their way to my refrigerator, but if it isn't creepy, fuzzy or green, I hang on for dear life.

Anyway...there was this cheap calculator that I purchased for the boys before school started--big buttons, big readout, easy on my ever aging eyes. It was set on a shelf (because it was used so much) and when taken back out would not work. Since it was "solar powered" I thought little of it and let it sit on the table to charge. A few days later I checked it...still not working. And in ever the packrat crafter mode I shoved it into the shelf again...for that time I might need a non-working calculator. It happens...Right?

So last night in a moment of need I grabbed for the calculator, willing it to come on. Nope. Nothing. No matter how hard I punched those buttons. So of course I threw it away laid it on the table for one last chance.

This morning while doing school work with the boys, I fiddled with it absentmindedly, turning it over, seeing if I missed something. There was what looked like a battery cover, but not wanting to interrupt the flow of school, I didn't get up to find a screwdriver. I fiddled with it some more...wait...what was that teeney, tiny, eensey, weensey little black hole there in the back? What did the raised plastic letters say?

"Reset."

A pen was handy so I pushed it in and, voilà, the calculator resumed functioning!

Staples has a great commercial series offering an "easy" button. Don't we all wish that we had access to that throughout the day?

Even more so, I wish I had a "Reset" button. There are many things I would reset, redo and hopefully get right the second time. Although I would be willing to try a third or fourth to make things better. Hopefully I would not have a Bill Murray Groundhog's Day experience, although if that would be what it takes, I'd be willing.

What would you reset if you could?

We don't have a reset button, but our Mighty God gives us many chances and even better--forgiveness. I am so grateful. But I hope in this journey to learn to get things right the first time so I wouldn't have to have that wish for a reset button.

Peace,

Julie

Where I'm From...

I've wanted to do this poetry exercise forever. I saw several bloggers doing this over a year ago. But in traditional Julie procrastination mode it got set aside and put off and put on hold. But I thought it would jump start me back after my sporadic posting of late.

The original "Where I'm From" is by George Ella Lyon.

I am from hiding under the kitchen table, the grownups sitting around, above, telling stories and jokes and playing cards; from Dairy Queen on a hot summer night with a butterscotch dipped cone and walking two blocks to Mass before school in the dark.

I am from the tiny house on the corner, six blocks from Grandma’s and Grandpa’s, my little teal pedal car parked at the front steps. I am from the lilacs, petunias and a rosebush with tiny pink roses, the bleeding hearts and fuchsias hanging on the back patio. I am from the sandbox beneath the forked apple tree.

I am from Christmas Midnight Mass and keeping secrets, from Florence and Viola and Gammie. I am from “I’m fine!”, sweeping emotions under the rug and ignoring the pink elephant dancing in the room. From “act your age” and “grow up”.

I am from Latin Mass to Vatican II, incense to Kum ba ya guitar Mass and from altar rails to Holy Eucharist on the hand. From Sister Rosemary who loved me to Sister Mary Adrian who told me I was ugly. From CYC and TEC. I’m from Iowa, Italians, Danes, Native Americans, Irish, Cappellettis and SPAM.

From singing Paddlin’ Madeline Home to the checkout lady for my delighted grandparents, my ratty, stuffing worn thin baby doll draped over my arm, belting my song loud and clear; from beneath the dark canopy at my uncle’s funeral, his parents conspicuously absent because he died fighting in Viet Nam; from sitting in the comic book rack reading Tiger Beat and Archie comics and playing Barbies in the back room and aisles of the corner grocery that my parents ran—my mother during the days and my father at night after his “real job”; and the walk to Grandma’s house one winter night when one of my parents locked the keys inside and us outside. Snow was deep and falling fast. It was a very quiet walk.

I am from much perused photo albums under my mother’s bedside table and my grandmother’s photos loose in boxes amidst the buttons and blankets deep in the cedar chest…some never seen until recently. Dalmatians, Dachshunds, a lilac gingham dress on the swing set, red-white-and-blue jeans on horseback, a new outfit for Christmas each year, costumes and pretended excitement for the first days of school, Santa Claus and Mommie and Mommy kissing Daddy. Somewhere in there were vacations—camping and amusement parks, Royal Gorge, Pikes Peak and Mount Rushmore, traveling in the back of the station wagon staring at the sky. Many miles of years on Polaroids and Kodachrome.


If you would like to do the "Where I'm From" poem in the style of George Ella Lyon here is the form. Let me know if you do!!

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.

I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).

I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail).

I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).

I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).

From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).

I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.

I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).

From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).

I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

Taking My Eyes Off the Goal

The enemy whispered and I listened and allowed myself to be deceived, distracted.

I've allowed myself to wallow in worldly matters. Matters that will be burnt up like chaff--in as little as five years I will have forgotten perceived hurts and injustices.

I've allowed myself to become over-worried about personal concerns, for myself and for family members; health, emotional, and financial. I've allowed myself to dwell in the past and in grief that should be put aside.

A long time ago someone reminded me about other worries, "It is what it is." I tell my children often, "Don't borrow trouble from tomorrow. Just deal with today." Maybe I should go with that. Hmmmm...

"DIFFICULT PRESENT MOMENTS

When the Present Moment comes and gives me something very difficult to bear, I say, "This is the will of God."

Think of when Pilate told the Lord, "Don't you know I have the power to crucify you and the power to release you?" And Jesus said, "No, you would not have power over me if it had not been given to you from above" (John 19:10-11). Even at that awesome, unjust moment, Jesus saw the Father's Will and accepted it. In our daily lives we should to. "--Mother Angelica from Little Book, of Life Lessons and Everyday Spirituality

Photo courtesy of Public Domain Pictures/Petr Kratochvil