don't wish it away

The days lately have felt very long. Elias is in a new, er, phase, where he is full of energy and emotion and frustration and, and, and... His personality and needs seem to have doubled, and I have to admit to being taken aback by it all.

I know-- it's a toddler thing, a little boy thing, a normal thing, and it's a part of having a little person running around (literally-- he only runs now, no more walking). But I'm hoping that no one minds me saying that it's hard. And frustrating. It's makes me feel a little helpless, a little like running a marathon each day. A little overwhelmed.

Perhaps it's a little obvious already that I'm overwhelmed? I'm noticing that I'm using lots of italics.

Anyway, I was just noticing that inner monologue that I carry with myself throughout my day, and I found myself wishing. For what? I don't know, a break, some excitement, something new and fun. I don't have anything in particular in mind, but I know that's it's different than the day I'm currently living.

And I found myself saying-- with more wisdom than I normally hear from myself-- to not wish it away. Don't wish it away, Alanna. This is all there is. This is life, lived out in it's most primal form. Daily keeping house, feeding the family, caring for others, chasing around a toddler, doing, doing, doing. This is it. And-- these days are the ones I'll look most fondly on in the future, when my baby boys are off at college, or they want to hang out with their own friends on a Friday night, or they are off with their own families around the holidays.

So this is it. As I've seen lately (and it's so brilliant I want to tattoo it on my face): The days are long but the years are short. I know this and believe it, but still find myself wishing for something to distract. Worrying about what I'm going to do with a toddler and a newborn. Here at the house. By myself. (I mean, really. What am I going to do? Besides survive ;-)

I don't want to just survive the daily marathon. If it's going to be a marathon, and it's going to be daily, then I'd like to enjoy it-- now, not in my memory in the future.

So, I'm going to attempt to enjoy the rest of the day, to feel satisfied that this is my reality, that this is my job. To understand what a blessing it is to bake granola at two-thirty in the afternoon on a Wednesday while my son naps peacefully upstairs. It certainly is a blessing, such a wonderful gift.

lucky girl

I'm so hard on myself. I'm finding more and more that the way that I speak to myself and think about myself is actually pretty rough, and even, I imagine, harmful.

How am I understanding this? Because of the way my husband talks to me. So often I feel like I'm a horrible person, one who makes really poor decisions out of selfish desire and low self-esteem. One who can't get it right, no matter how hard I try. And then Jeremy speaks to me, and he sounds so completely different than the voice inside my head, who's calling me an absolute idiot.

In fact, Jeremy's voice, his kindness and grace that is spoken to me when I'm down, sounds so much like God's voice. His is the voice of comfort, and forgiveness, and kindness when I'm feeling at my worst. And in that kindness, He gives me Jeremy, to over and again emphasize to me just how good He is to me. And how much He likes me.

When Jeremy and I were first married, I started having something like panic attacks thinking about his death. We've already established that I'm morbid, yes? I just kept thinking about what a comfort Jeremy is to me. It's indescribable, really, that sense of warmth and safety and comfort that he brings to my heart. And to think of losing that... Anyway, some friends were praying for me, and for a minute during, their voices faded out, and His came in loud and clear: that He was the one who brought Jeremy to be that comfort to me. It's been Him all along. And if Jeremy were to be gone--and someday he really will be--God will bring that comfort to me in another way. Because it's Him that is my comfort. Jeremy is just the one He's using right now to bring it to me.

Anyway, I'm only really thinking about this because I bought a $15 mirror at Target just now, and money is just so tight, and I was sick about it ever since I put it in the cart. And then I had to tell Jeremy what I had done. And what did he say after I had verbally abused myself all the way home, vowing to return it?

"Okay."

Okay?

And that was it. I could have just cried a little; it was such a relief to hear a note of grace after all the other garbage in my mind.

And so I'm feeling thankful for a good husband, and a kind God, and that I get to live this life with both of them by my side. Thankful, thankful, thankful.

goals, however small

Fall has certainly arrived here. It's gotten so much cooler this week, and it's been cloudy and rainy for days now. Now, I'm not one to balk at a rainy, gray day, but... Well, maybe I am a little bit. Gray days seem to be more fun for selfish activities: cups of tea sweetened with honey, romantic comedies from the nineties in the dvd player, naps on the couch. None of these things happened today; well, I guess the tea and honey happened, but I ended up guzzling it, lukewarm, after I finished feeding Elias and before I gulped down my own dinner. Not really the effect I was going for.

I like this season (and the one that follows it) because it feels so warm and cozy. That is, it feels warm and cozy if one has a home that is warmly lit, full of lovely cooking smells and festive decorations. I think the only thing I've got going for this place right now are the cooking smells, and those aren't so lovely right now because of the whole head of rotting garlic I foolishly chose to put down the garbage disposal instead of the trash can. Oh. my. Two days later, and it's still going strong.

So my goal for the next thirty days is to get two little crafty things done for the house: put up some twinkly lights, make a garland, what-have-you. And all of you, the whole two people that read my blog, are welcome to call me out if you don't see proof of them here. And if I didn't write it here, and make it a goal, there is more than a very good possibility that you'd hear me complaining about the lack of holiday swag again four weeks from now.

Also in the next month's activities: get camping supplies ready for our church's retreat next weekend, survive next weekend without my little boy :-( , get ready for said little boy's first birthday party (with a homemade pinata, and a mess of cake), get his room ready, get answers ready for the people who have and who will ask me what to get E for his birthday, finish the curtains for downstairs plus a million other little sewing projects that I'd like to get finished (without a sewing machine), etc., etc. In addition, Jeremy is having to work more hours (for $), and I'm having to cook more (because of $). So, it'll be busy.

And yes, two pieces of holiday swag in the next 4 weeks. It's do-able. 'Cause I'm gonna do it.

18 days

18 days until my baby boy is less baby, more kid. E is turning one year old a couple Saturdays from now, and both Jeremy and I have begun that whole "Our baby isn't going to be a baby much longer" kind of thing that I imagine most all parents do. Jeremy has been more emotional than I've been so far, but I'm pretty sure it's because I'm repressing an ocean of heartache until the actual day of his birthday. That's just how I roll. Oops, just writing that created a bit of a leak, figuratively and literally.

My goodness, his first year is almost done. And with it, so many other things, too numerous to write down here.

What I'll miss:

His dependence on us. He loves to go to other people now, and enjoys the company of others. And I know that will continue more and more, as he starts to have a life apart from us.

Nursing. He's still going strong, don't get me wrong, but it's less frequently now, and not as sweet as before, unless he's sleepy. He's usually smacking me or trying to grab his feet, and my. goodness. those. teeth.

Cuddling with him. I think this will come back, but for now that kid wants to MOVE. In the morning, when WE are feeling most cuddly, he's just psyched to see his toys after being away from them all night.

I don't know... He was my BABY. And now he's getting to be a little boy. And while I've made the decision to embrace his growing up, to celebrate the upcoming year with all our might on the 8th, it's the past year that will be on my mind too. And I don't think that will change in the coming years.

And I really do want to celebrate his getting older. He's going to be a fine boy and a good man someday. And I am looking forward to getting to know him more and more and more.

And yet, tears for now.

back to school

No, I'm not going back to school. I'm still staying at home with my babe, hopefully for a long time. But the other day, Sunday, I suddenly felt that longing to be back in classes, drinking coffee during early morning work, reading new literature with a new bespectacled professor, walking on campus in the approaching autumn air. Yum.

Jeremy hates this time. Even seeing the back to school commercials on television gives him a mild stomachache. But for me, it feels like new beginnings; it has a crispness, a cozy comfort to it. I do miss graduate school.

And so I'm trying to harness this feeling to help me begin again working on my thesis. I have not felt the inspiration for the project, and apparently my lack of discipline will not get me any further. Imagine that. If there's no romance to a project, then, for me, it probably won't get done. I need this magical school air to help me along.

3 more months

Yep. We found out this morning. The appraiser deemed our house "Not Finished Enough." We have three more months to finish it up.

So...there it is. It's plenty of time to do what we have left to do. And yet...

We wanted to put the period on to this long, run-on sentence. And hopefully, in three months we can do so. It's a disappointment for us, but only emotionally, I think. We really aren't going to do anything differently than we already were. The hard part is definitely over.

Thank you to everyone that helped like crazy during the frenzy of this last month/months/year/years. It's no exaggeration to say that we wouldn't be nearly as close to the end without you. I really, really, really couldn't begin to say how much we appreciate the family and friends who have stuck with us during this project.

photo credit: dn.jy productions

distant

You probably haven't noticed that I haven't posted lately, but I have. This blog flits in and out of my mind every once in awhile... and yet I haven't been able to bring myself to the computer to write a post.

I think it's because we're still in the same place that we have been for so long, and I can hear myself harping on "The House". Have you noticed that I don't call it "Our Home"? Or even, "Our House"? I have. It's still this thing that we're doing; a never ending project hanging over our heads. A perpetual full-time burden that we've been fighting against (with? for?) for over two years now.

So that's why I haven't written. I'm tired of talking about it, of explaining what it is that is so draining to/on us as a family, of being alternately defensive for our decision to buy, and a bully to our two-years-ago selves for what now seems like a miss. Or was it? Jeremy and I still haven't decided.

Our appraisal was yesterday. We're still waiting to find out what decision the bank makes-- done enough? Or still more work until they'll label it "finished" and give us a regular home loan and a freedom (mental and physical) to go on with our lives as mere homeowners instead of contractors? We hope to hear by the weekend.

It doesn't seem real yet, and it won't until we find out our fate. Regardless, "The House" is almost done, really and truly, and soon we'll be moving upstairs-- giving our boy his own space, full of color and room and, and, and. And Jeremy and I will finally have our space too. We can't wait to have a bedroom again, and a full-time marriage.

I hope that someday this house will have a new name. And I hope that the next time I write here, it will not be about anything but Elias, or a new recipe I've found, or how we've chosen to decorate our home. And hopefully, since I'll be writing about fun things, I won't be so distant from this place.