Holy cow...

it's gorgeous today. What a kick start to summer vacation!

Moriah and Jim were out this morning, helping at the baseball field.
The little girls and I were outside for several hours today, between working on the baseball field and playing at the playground. And they're back outside in our tiny little yard as I type this.
Susannah and Moriah were outside for several hours today as well, riding bikes down to the park and hanging out with several friends. And are outside with their little sisters now, too.

That leaves darling, semi-anti-social Samuel.... Well, he's been inside all day, either at home or at the movie he went to this afternoon with Jim (Iron Man 2...without me).

At least 6/7 of our family likes sunshine and fresh air.

Breathe

I can almost breathe again.

Tomorrow is my last day of the school year and I have never been so ready for summer as I am this year.

This school year, I:
took on subbing for a part-time Spanish position.
waited for someone to come out of the woodwork and take over teaching.
waited some more.
decided to get my classroom certification and become the 'real' teacher.
signed up for classes.
took one class in the fall, three in the spring.
thoroughly enjoyed my winter break with my family.
was pretty stressed about going back to work.
waited for my certificate to get processed.
waited for my principal to help me figure out the whole hiring thing.
called about my cert and was told it was on its way.
took an awesome 40th birthday trip with my best friend.
made lots of calls (that my principal should have made).
cherished Spring Break time with my family.
went back to work somewhat reluctantly.
passed my world languages 'entrance' interview.
was eternally grateful for a supportive, loving husband.
waited on my principal some more.
figured it all out myself.
was really stressed.
traveled to Indiana to see my sister-in-law get married to a great guy.
missed having afternoons with my husband and youngest kids.
advocated for myself and was awarded some more pay as a long-term sub.
was told my work in one class was sub-par.
freaked out.
received notice that the long-term sub pay was terminated because I took personal leave.
was offended that my principal didn't tell me that herself but sent it in an email.
had a good cry.
received a call my mom fell and broke her femur and had had surgery two days before.
redid the work and resubmitted it.
felt even more stress.
received an A- in both my major classes.
hassled students to return books to the library.
said goodbye to some awesome 8th graders, who I will miss next year.
surely did more things that I could recount here.

Time to breathe.

I suppose I should write something

I keep imagining of all these great thoughtful posts that I could write but I just don't have a ton of extra time to compose them. Then I realized tonight that they don't have be long posts. Right?

Problem is, I can't remember what I was going to post about.

Great.

A little disgusted

I haven't written for a bit, yet again. Seems that any extra time I have goes into something else, usually some quality time with kids, a little housework (very little), some lesson planning, or some web surfing after kids are in bed.

I figured this would be a great place to express my slight disgust about something I heard yesterday. But first a little background.

Moriah and Susannah have been receiving mailings from an organization called People to People. This group offers great-sounding trips that seem to be civics-focused to Washington DC for the low low price of a couple thousand dollars (plus airfare). The trips look fun and informative, but the price was an automatic no, especially for two kids and especially since I couldn't find any information about scholarship options in the first batch of papers.

Now on to the disgust.

Yesterday Jim told me that another mom asked if our girls were going because her daughter along with three other kids were planning on going to one of the trips. Now, her daughter is one girl that my girls aren't really getting along with lately, making me feel a little better that my two girls aren't going. But then Jim told me that this mom and the other parents were planning on asking the community to help them fund raise for this trip.

For whatever reason (basically, my own personal sense of what's acceptable), that really sat (set?) wrong with me. I would never ask others to help me fund a trip that is only a benefit for my own child. I can see asking an organization like Rotary or Lions Club for some funding, considering the focus of those clubs. But to ask other parents to pay for my child to go on a fun trip? That isn't cool. At least not to me.

I'm trying not to jump to conclusions as to what she meant by fundraising (as Milo would counsel me in Phantom Tollbooth), but if I am asked to support these kids for this trip, I won't be happy. In fact, I've imagined a couple of times today what I might say if any of these parents ask me to support the idea. And I haven't figured out what I'd say. (How's that for dwelling on the negative?)

Perhaps I'm jealous that these families are planning to send their kids. But I don't think that's it (particularly because it is a distinct possibility that the girls will have the opportunity to take a class trip to DC next year, something I am already anticipating saving for). I think it's more likely that I'm finding that my inner-overly-righteous-severely-judgmental moral police that I've tried very hard to squish over the years is very much alive and well. I just would never do that. Ever. If I can't afford to send my kid on a 'joy' trip (which is really how I see this), I would never dream of asking someone else to help.

A mission trip is different to me. A school trip that involves every student participating in the fundraising and that enhances the curriculum is different to me. For whatever reason this format of trips just doesn't resonate with me as a great reason to ask others for money. And I'm rankled.

(and rather uncharitable, huh?)

I yelled at my kids today*

*Today=August 11, a month ago. *grin*

The title isn't fully accurate any longer; the message remains the same.

The girls and I had a lovely trip to Kohl's and Target today*. I wanted to get out there and do a little school shopping (any excuse to get out there will do!), so I grabbed the chance today*. After packing a light lunch for ourselves, we were off.

I have already drastically changed how I drive the road between Girdwood and Anchorage since Jim became the Volunteer Fire Dept. chaplain. He doesn't go out to the accidents, but he does do counseling for the responders afterwards and he's seen some gory photos. Taking it slower and driving the speed limit no longer feel like constraints. They feel like potential life-saving measures and have made me much more patient on the road. Until recently, with the number of deaths we've had on the highway.

On this particular day, I was fairly tense. Why did I yell at the girls? Because there have been six deaths this summer on the Seward Highway, two within the last week (of today*). Psychologically, those recent deaths have had an effect on my driving and made me a little more impatient than usual with the girls' noise. They just couldn't seem to get quiet despite my requests otherwise and made a lot of noise, especially once we were done shopping. All the new purchases had somehow pumped them up and they were overly enthusiastic once too often.

So, I yelled. Loudly. And for a good length of time.

Did they 'deserve' it? Maybe not the delivery style. But they 'deserved' the message. To listen to my directions so that I can stay as attentive a driver as I can, particularly with such precious cargo within the car (I mean the kids, not the wonders Target and Kohl's had for purchase!).

Driving along the highway is beautiful and deadly. I need my kids to understand that. I can live with a little yelling to make sure they do.

Fear

The internet is an amazing place to find others with common interests, common backgrounds, common occupations, common habits, common...oh, you get the picture. You can find some great laughs, some great stories, some great teaching aids, some great recipes, etc etc etc. Those tubes can dispense some remarkable information.

But it's also a place where fear lurks. Where you can read about horrifying human rights violations. Or about someone who is experiencing a disfiguring disease. Or someone who sows hatred wherever possible. Or about someone who has lost their young child.

Right now I'm brought very low with remorse over my recent self-named 'escapes' from my kids. I've had a night away with my husband, going out on a friend's boat out in Prince William Sound (yes it was fun), and I was gone most of the day today, first on a walk with one friend and then to town to 'play' with another before she leaves for medical school. And you know what? I thoroughly enjoyed being on my own, no kids in sight, no potty training stress, no toddlers pulling on my shirt and calling out "mama!" One might even say I reveled in it. Of course, you say, that's how it should be. A little time away from the kids is a good thing. Some time to yourself is 'earned' and needed and should be sought out and savored.

But I've just finished reading a blog of a family that lost a young child, a son not yet two, within the last few days. Inexplicably, their little boy died sometime in the night and they found him, lifeless, that horrifying morning. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain they are feeling. The dizzying sorrow that has invaded their house. And their sweet boy was a twin. Something that hits even harder at my heart, if that's possible.

And I find myself feeling guilty. For wanting to be away from my kids, those precious gifts that God gave us to raise and cherish. For wanting to have some 'me' time, time to be selfish and carefree. For wanting to be away instead of here. For not wanting to spend every moment I possibly can, drinking in their curiosity and their silliness and their interactions and their conversations and their dreams and their hopes and their beauty and their being.

I know. It's silly and not a little pointless to take all that on. But the fear that 'it could happen to me' is real and I'm feeling it. The thought of losing any of my children makes my heart constrict in my chest and my eyes well up with tears. How the hell is it that I can take them so for granted? Those smart, funny, beautiful children that light up my life? How?

Forgive me, Father, for being so careless with your gifts. And help me to always be thankful for those gifts. Each and every precious one.

Let's see

Who am I?

beloved child of God
wife
mother
daughter
sister
friend
librarian
pastor's wife
mom of two sets of twins (God's quirky sense of humor at work in the world)
reader
homebody
volunteer
Alaskan (yes, this feels like my home state now...no longer a Hoosier first)
lazy butt

I'm sure I could come up with more adjectives/jobs/roles/personas, but this list seems to fit most of who I am/do. I sort of put it in order of importance, too. (No wonder I get stressed. I have a lot on my plate.) The first one might sound mushy, but it's true. I sure don't always remember that cherished spot I have in my Lord's family in the midst of my busy-ness, but when I'm down or feeling icky (as evidenced in my last post) allowing that fact to seep back into my consciousness gives me such a feeling of belonging and peace that I'm surprised I don't remember it more often.

Duh.

I recently completed a Beth Moore study called Loving Well. Her basic premise is that we can't love well if we don't allow ourselves to be well loved. She said so much more during the course of that study but that is the biggie I came away with (besides Joy, Testy, Foe and Far and the blessing of combing a stranger's hair...gotta do the study to understand all that!). Allow God to love us well and we will be able to love well...His light in this world.

I don't think I allow God to love me well most of the time. I don't slow down to consider it. I don't really think I'm always worth it. And I certainly don't reflect enough to take it in. Really take it in. It goes without saying for me that God loves me. One of my spiritual gifts is faith and I really do believe with all my heart in my God and all he has done and will continue to do for me. But to fully accept that love? It boggles the mind. My mind anyway. I'll keep working to let his love wash over me and through me and see if I can't cut down on the type of downer posts I did last time.

Jesus loves me, this I know.