More Adulthood Dreams

Tonight while out on a lovely walk (finally winter is over and we can all be outside without 20 pounds of clothing on) I remembered another adulthood dream I have.

For a brief time about 10 years ago I made a ton of money and thought I'd make even more (and then the stock market crashed and by by money --- but I digress...)

During those rich days I had plans to start a scholarship fund for graduates from my hometown.

I realized tonight I'd still like to realize that dream.

I'd like to start a scholarship fund to pay for travel expenses for students who choose to continue their education outside of Wisconsin.

Why Did You Call Me Buddah Mama?

Rob's radio story on Weekend America (called 'Shaking Motherhood To the Core) aired on Saturday around 1:30 in the afternoon. You can hear it and read it here.

I posted the following post in my private blog and decided today (after some friendly prodding from a few folks) to share it here on my public blog.

Since posting this blog 2 people have said really interesting things to me and I put them at the very bottom of this post.

+++

We didn't know exactly when it would air and we haven't had Internet at the house for the past few days and I didn't want to miss the show so I chose to let the kids stay awake at nap time so I could listen to the show. We were driving home from a fun morning at Nan and Rob's house and I just kept driving around.

Naomi was sleeping. Eliot was sitting in the back seat of the car singing the alphabet and other random songs. When the story started he got quiet.

Then he said, "why do you call me a Buddah Mama?"

"What's a Buddah."

I was desperate to listen to the show.

And really wanted to respond to him.

And then got nervous that there might be something in the show I didn't want his young ears to hear.

So I said, "The Buddah is very calm Eliot and you used to be really calm like the Buddah."

"Why was I calm Mama? Why were you calling me the Buddah Mama?"

From there I can't remember exactly what I said or what he said.

I know I told him that I wanted to tell him all about the Buddah after the radio show was done.

We both listened in silence.

At the point when we talk about him being 'put to sleep' at the hospital I looked back at him. He smiled, sheepishly. Proudly. He seemed to be enjoying hearing the story.

When it was over I said (and I'm really proud of this question) "Eliot you wanted to know about why I called you the Buddah, are there other things you want to ask me too?"

He said there weren't.

I told him that we talk about Jesus and God at our church and some people in other churches talk about Buddah.

We have a book that asks the question 'where is God' and at the end of the book when it says, "God is everywhere." I always say, "I see God in you Naomi and Eliot." And they always say they don't want me to.

So today I said to Eliot that just like I see God in him I also saw the Buddah in him.

Eliot told me that he didn't want me to see God in him. I asked him what he wanted me to see in him.

He said trains.

"I want you to see trains in me Mama."

And so on the day when he heard his mother and his uncle talk about him on the radio he took it all in. He smiled. I don't know what he thought or felt.

Except that I know he wants me to see trains in him.

+++

Since posting this blog Eliot's Auntie pointed out that Buddah would want us to see trains in him too.

See trains in me mama. See the things I love the most.

Monica posted a comment wondering why I think the kids don't want me to see God in them.

Often when I ask them about that they say they want me to see them in them.

See Eliot it me Mama.

See Naomi in me Mama.

They want to be seen. They want to be seen as them. No fancy God stuff.

Fizzy Soap

I feel so famous.

Today my very own voice was on the radio. It was surreal and spooky and made me tear up a little.

Right now I'm sitting here with the yummiest smelling, sweetest soap ever sitting next to me. It was sent to me by the wife of a man who reads my blogs.

Isn't that crazy.

There is a man who reads my blogs. He came to a conference last year and was excited to meet ME!

When he read my blog a few weeks ago and found out Eliot was in the hospital he asked his wonderful wife (who I now now) to send me some soap she hand made.

It arrived in the mail with a wonderful note the other day.

Aron and the kids took a bath with it the other night. It fizzes like alka-seltzer when you put it in the water and it smells amazing. The kids loved the fizziness and the slippery tub and the yummy adult, lavendar smell of the whole experience.

I loved the super long bath they all took while I got a ton of stuff done.

I'm going to scrape the grime off our basement bath tub tomorrow and dunk myself in its amazingness.

Check our her soap and candle store. She uses earth friendly stuff. She does it by hand. She is the real deal.

The Radio Show is there!

Check it out at this link.

Childhood Dreams

I listened to this awesome YouTube video over the past two days. It is over an hour long and it is worth it. This man is smart and funny. He is giving one of those 'last lectures' at Carnegie Mellon and the crazy thing is this time its for real. He has 2-4 months of good health left (or rather, had at the time this was taped).

He talks about a ton of stuff and one over arching thing he talks about is accomplishing your childhood dreams.

I started remembering mine and although I imagine there were more dreams than this - this is what I've remembered about what I used to dream about:

• be a checker in a grocery story
• be interviewed on television either on one of those evening news shows or The Today Show (I used to practice being interviewed as a kid - it was sooooo fun)
• I asked Jesus for 1 of the following 3 things - wings, a baby or blindness - I have a whole psychological theory about that wacky dream
• take photographs for National Geographic
• train dolphins
• receive a total surprise all-expense-paid shopping spree
  

It's kind of funny that I was sent the link to this video because recently I realized that I'd lost track of my adulthood dreams a bit and I've been starting to make a list of things I'd like to accomplish in my life.

Here is what I have so far:

• be invited to speak (and speak) at a TED conference
• create a show for or be interviewed on This American Life (I'm sort of accomplishing this one this weekend - my brother in law Rob interviewed me for a story that is going to air on Sunday on Weekend America)
• live in a house I love, in a neighborhood I love next door to people I love all at the same time
• have a regular house cleaner
  
• see a fortune cookie I once received come true 'you will create a unique and respected lifestyle'

When I was 19 or 20 years old a speaker at a training I attended suggested that we should all make 10 big goals and work on them. She said we should put them in the front of our planners with the full intention of accomplishing them.

She suggested 10 goals.

I'm going to work on this. First making my goals. Then accomplishing them.

Bed Time Noise

Bed time has been hard around our house when I'm the only parent home now for several months.

I hit rock bottom with that last week and since then I have a new strength and clarity with the kids about the importance of them going to sleep. Things have been going better.

Tonight Eliot insisted on sleeping in the big bed. I let him and told him very clearly that I wouldn't be returning to the room and he needed to lay down and sleep.

I went downstairs and started paying weeks of bills.

I've had anxiety issues about money for years. They're much better than the used to be. Much better. I used to get a stomach ache when I paid bills. I don't anymore.

Like many families right now we're feeling the stretch with higher gas and food prices.

I also paid bills tonight for a recent emergency room visit.

As I finished paying the bills and adding up how much I spent I realized that we also have incoming bills for a recent broken car and now another emergency room visit and a hospital stay.

Ug.

Just as I was realizing all of that I realized Naomi was still awake upstairs.

I went to check on her.

Then I heard Eliot rustling around and against my own promise went to check on him.

I realized that I'd probably been keeping him awake.

I think all of my envelope opening and filing was too loud.

I think my anxiety was too loud too.

Help me remember God that I'm not perfect and wasn't made to be perfect.
Help me remember that our financial situation could be worse.
Help me be mindful of all the people who have less than us.
Help me to be calm in the face of this challenge and know that I will be okay.

2 tablespoons

I consented to a study today that it is a step in the direction toward figuring out how leukemia happens.

I've wanted to offer up whatever I could to help understand leukemia and hopefully find a way to prevent it.

I've said I'd be willing to be interviewed and give my medical records. I'd be willing to be inconvenienced to help.

Today I consented to what I hope isn't the last way I might help.

All I need to do is give 4 vials of blood. 2 tablespoons.

1 poke. 2 tablespoons.

Just a beginning toward understanding this disease.

I'm really excited about the whole thing.

Hmmmmmm

A week ago today I went to church at our National Cathedral.

I loved it.

What has happened to me? I'm a mere shadow of my former church hating self.

The acolytes were incredible (who am I to even know what an acolyte is much less have an educated opinion about them), the service music was beautiful, the service booklet was impeccable, the crowd was huge.

They celebrated Earth Day and the state of Maryland (once a month they celebrate a state).

I sat in church feeling really proud of The Episcopal Church. I felt excited to raise my kids in this church. I felt excited to be part of the governing body. It was surprising and wonderful.

And all week two things have really been nagging at me.

The sermon at the 11:15 service was given by the Dean of the Cathedral. He gave a strong sermon about caring for our earth. He actually talked about how SUVs are a BAD idea (something I rarely hear people willing to say and one of my current pet peeves).

He addressed Earth Day with some honesty about how responsible we are for our current dire environmental situation and he was hopeful. You can hear it here.

He also called all of us to action using the term 'as Christians'.

Hmmmm......

Hmmmmm.....

As Christians?

One of the reason's I love that Cathedral is that its there for ALL Americans and ALL American's aren't Christians.

The mission of the Cathedral is obvious in their gift shop. There are religious items from the Roman Catholic Tradition and Episcopalian and Buddhist and beyond.

That 'as Christians' thing bothered me. It's still bothering me.

They also said they're starting a congregation at the cathedral.

I'm not terribly opinionated about whether that is a good or bad idea. I do wonder tho if there is a congregation there if all of the preachers will (or maybe they already do) start preaching to Christians.

I don't like that.

I'm proud that there is one place that can be unapologetically Episcopalian and inter-faith at the same time. I love that concept. That possibility. I'm too jaded and cynical to think they'd do it perfectly and I think saying 'as Christians' from the pulpit is pretty far from close to the ideal.

Hmmmm....

Another day as an Episcopalian. Both proud and bothered. Both hopeful and wondering if that is crazy. Both wanting to shout how cool we are from the roof tops and wanting to hide and not admit that I'm part of the whole big mess.

Prioritizer

Check out this awesome on-line prioritizing tool. And then check out the rest of the web page. It is full of awesome good things.

A blog to read

Go the archives from March and read this blog. It's about a dad and his daughter and was supposed to be about the dad, the mom and the baby.

The baby was born prematurely. 27 hours later the mom died prematurely. She stood up, felt light headed and died.

He is parenting a premature baby who at the weight of a butterfly is now 'big' and mourning his wife who he appears to have loved very much.

Its Official

I started my job 2 months ago tomorrow. Many, many things around here have changed since then.

And now after all of those things changed I am a decidedly better mom.

I'm patient. I'm silly. I'm calm. I'm independent. I'm present. I'm clear. I'm funny. I'm loving. I'm consistent-er.

I'm a better mom.

I enjoy being a mom.

I still don't enjoy some parts. Like the house cleaning, the laundry, the cooking. Frankly I don't know if I ever will. Those jobs stink.

The mom part is better. Its better. Its good. And getting even better each day.

Finally.

Can You Get the Flu if you Have a Cold?

Inquiring minds want to know....

Like me.

What If

I've been reading and hearing all of this anxiety provoking economic news and also reading and hearing about how its causing people to make a lot of basically great decisions. Some people are selling their cars and choosing bikes or public transportation instead. Some people are spending less and avoiding credit more. Some people are selling houses out in the suburbs and moving close to the center.

I've been wondering what would happen if the middle class as a whole started being responsible with money. What if everyone spent within their means. What if everyone conserved gasoline (or didn't use it at all). What if everyone paid all of their bills, always, on time? What would happen?

What would happen? Entire sectors of our economy would die out. The lending sector. Well. No it wouldn't die. It would just be smaller. People would still take out loans for businesses and college and homes.

The retail sector would die. Well. No. People would still buy things.

I would really like to learn what it would mean if all of the middle class started to live responsibly with money and with the earth's resources.

Is there anyone out there hypothesizing about this? Have economists looked at this question. Or business leaders.

Can anyone point me anywhere on this one?

My Unfounded Fears

I was really nervous about a few things before I started my new job. I didn't know how I'd look, thought I might swear too much and feared the dreaded 'so what does your husband do' question.

It turns out that thanks to a life-altering (in a good way) visit to an Ann Taylor store my new co-workers think of me as a person who is well dressed. None of my co-workers have EVER thought of me as well dressed at any other job I've had. Goodness. I'm not sure anyone has ever thought that of me in any arena of my life. Ever. In my whole life.

So this is awesome and weird. Its like living your life as a short person and suddenly being tall.

As it turns out I've heard plenty of swearing. Not a lot. And certainly not everyday. Some tho. Just regular adult swears from time to time. A friendly and well put shit or crap or damn. So as long as I can keep my f-bombs in line (which I've done so far) my truck driver ways aren't totally terrible.

And joy of joys I've told several people what Aron's job is and not one person has seemed freaked out. Not at all. One person has even asked me lots of questions. One person has made jokes with me about how so many church words (organ, rectory, rector) sound naughty. One person was even raised by a former minister.

Hello!

I feel like I fit in, I feel like I have things to offer, I'm not totally bizarre to people.

Wiggle your but, pump your arms, wag your head - this is a bloggy happy-dance.

I'm a Cryer

Having kids turned me into a cryer. Wahhh Wahhh Wahhh. When I was pregnant the slightest unexpected thing made me cry. Now my crying usually makes sense contextually. Except for the fact that I've always considered myself more of a bad ass and less of a cryer. I'm not a bad ass anymore. I'm a cryer. And that is fine with me.

I just cried some genuine tears listening to Weekend American on the radio. My brother in law had a story on there today and I sat here and listened to 45 minutes of the 2nd hour of the show to hear it. You can hear it too here. Its a story about a love letter he wrote to my sister a long time ago and I think its really sweet. You can also see pictures of their hot young selves there too. My sister is a BABE!

U B Resrispektin' Me?

I've been thinking about the kids running around in the church the other day.

Were they being disrespectful considering the fact that they didn't know they're 'supposed' to be quiet as a feather and stiff as a board through the whole service (as if any of us are really capable of that).

Naomi was actually yelling, "Jesus time" and "Jesus bread".

They were excited.

They know what happens right before communion, they could feel it coming and they were excited.

They were also running full tilt all over the place which was loud and very distracting.

I've gotten supportive emails and supportive comments on my blog. I'm guessing anyone who was really angry doesn't know me well enough to tell me what they think, or doesn't feel they can say anything or just hasn't gotten around to it.

I really love that at Christmas I said to Eliot that I don't go up by the alter with him because that is a special place for the clergy, the choir and the kids. Not only does it sound cool when you say it - its true. I love that that special place is for them too.

I'm rambling. Yes. I'm rambling.

I've, strangely enough, been wondering a lot what Dumbledore from Harry Potter would do about this. After reading the Harry Potter books I really had a new sense of the mystery of church. My guess is Dumbledore would love it. He'd smile, with a twinkle in his eyes and give the kids some candy.

I've also been thinking about the most profoundly churchy experience I ever had - when I took Naomi to the installation of the new Presiding Bishop. What if the kids ran as fast as they could around The National Cathedral yelling "Jesus Bread".

What would I think then.

When I think of all of the pomp and circumstance of that day, the ribbons, the loud music, the million bishops in a row I think that kind of craziness would have worked. On that scale a few kids running wild would have blended in. Or not. Maybe it would have been a sin along the lines of using the wrong fork at dinner.

We Episcopalians do have our standards.

I do know these things.

1) Getting 2 toddlers to church by 10am by myself is no small task and I'd love any excuse not to do it.

2) I have zero interest in the kids hating church - they're going to spend way too much time in their lives being there.

3) I have no interest in the kids hating church - its about God and I doubt God is really all that impressed by perfectly silent children.

4) I'm deeply committed to our church being open to ALL people and I know some people can't stand kids running around and some others simply can't hear when the kids are running around.

5) If I could act however I want during church I'd probably lie in a pew and relax.

6) I know its none of my business what other people think of me and boy do I like to pretend that it is.

7) On the day I live up to all of the expectations (said and unsaid) of a priest's wife I'll know something has gone terribly weird.

8) I have zero interest in putting that weight of expectation on the kids.

9) I have zero interest in going the opposite direction and encouraging obviously excessive behavior.

10) This is all confusing and I doubt I'll ever feel I've found the answer.

What I'm Nervous About

I got a job. I finally. FINALLY got a job. And its a great job. And I get to start a week from tomorrow.

And I'm nervous and anxious and excited.

And I'm most nervous about the following 3 things.

a) The dreaded, "So, what does your husband do?" question. I haven't had to answer that question many times in the past few years. My guard is down on this one. I'm not sure I'm prepared for the inevitable awkward silence.

b) That I'll swear. I haven't had a job at which I need to watch my mouth since 1998 (and even then it wasn't THAT big of a deal). I've gotten better since the kids came along and I've always been mostly good at censoring myself. How long tho until I drop an f-bomb? And then, oh the awkward silence.

c) Fashion. I'm so dreadfully clueless in this area. I have never had a job at which my lack of fashion knowledge, fashion sense and general willingness to invest in fashion has really mattered. It feels like it does at this job. Oh goodness - will I be a fool?

I guess its a good thing that I'm not nervous about my ability to do the job, or my ability to come home and still be a mom or that the kids will be okay. I feel pretty confident all of those things will be just fine.

Instead, embarrassingly, I'm hung-up on these shallow things. What people will think, what the hell I'll wear and what I'll say while wearing those things. Goodness. Perhaps I should start reading Teen magazine again.

A New High A New Low

For the first time since Naomi was born I went to church with the kids and actually participated in some of the service. Both kids have become really comfortable in church and I was even without them for a while before church started because they wanted to be with Aron. It was heaven. I felt a little bit of space for me in that sacred place and my heart and soul felt a little lighter.

I felt( for something like 3 minutes this morning) like I was worshiping. It was a little bit of a 'Hello God, Its Me Sara' moment. Wow. I was back.

Then I picked my head up and came back to reality and the kids were running at full tilt and laughing and having an amazingly good time during the communion prayer or the Eucharist (I still don't know what that part is called right before we all have communion).

They were running and laughing and obviously feeling totally comfortable in the church and making a huge amount of noise and being wayyy to disrespectful of the whole thing even for my low standards.

I was so embarrassed.

I struggle all of the time with feeling that I'm the priest's wife and we're the priests' family and we're supposed to live up to some sort of perfect standards. For the most part I try to be my own person and let our family be our own family. And I'm aware that our standards aren't up to par with sainthood.

And this morning when we were all sleep deprived because poor Eliot can't sleep on steroids it just went way too far. I wanted to grab each kid under an arm and run out of there, no coats, no hats, no mittens, just two laughing kids straight to the car and home.

Sigh.

The Lorax is an Ass - with apologies to my Uncle Terry and so many Others

The kids checked The Lorax by Dr. Seuss out of the library the week before last and I was so excited to read it to them. I'm a fan of Dr. Seuss and I remember The Lorax being a great book and I know (or at least think I know) that my Uncle Terry (who I look up to - and not just because his is 6 foot four) really likes it.

After reading it and reading it and reading it until I thought the pages would turn to dust I realized that (in my now very pubic opinion) the Lorax is an ass.

All he does is stand around shaming the hell out of an admittedly short-sighted and selfish person. He points his finger and talks in a bossy manner. Then when everything goes to shit he picks himself up by the butt (literally) and flies away leaving the jerky, polluting businessman to years of isolation.

The isolation only ends when someone finds a great, great grand daddy snail and 15 cents (and I think a rusty nail) and begs the man to give him his tale.

By that time there is but 1 seed left that if cultivated might, after a long time grow to a Truffula tree and hopefully another and maybe after a great deal of time bring back the swamy-swans and the other fun creatures.

What good is that Lorax. Snobby. Finger-pointy Lorax that he is. Why is he not planting Truffula seeds? Why is he not rallying others to his cause. Why is he not telling others the price of their silly turtle neck, bike seat cover things?

Mostly. When his shaming ways bear no fruit why does he keep employing them and then act as if he has no part in the destruction.

I'd like to re-name the story - The Lorax - how to be on the right side of an issue without getting dirt under your nails and other great tools of the limousine liberal. Sadly that title is wayyy too long for the children's book section, has no iambic pentameter and would probably piss off a fair amount of Dr. Seuss' fans.

Just for the record - I'm a liberal and although I've spent only about 10 months of my life being occasionally chauffeured around in a limousine I'm pretty much a jerk when it comes to issues too. I guess its the things you see in other people that bug you about yourself that really drive you nuts.

Amazing Photos

So I admit this new blog is done by my sister. I'd like it even if it wasn't.

Check it out here. Lots of cool pictures. And more to come.

I'm so proud of her.

Me. Prom. 1991.

Yes that is a cross I'm wearing around my neck. Why. I have no idea.

No I don't remember ever wearing that dress.

Yes I miss those arms terribly.

Hibernation

Well my bloggy self appears to be fattened up and hidden away in a cave deep below the snow. Perhaps some time this winter she'll give birth to a cub - in her sleep of all wonderful inventions.

Perhaps before spring she'll pop her head out and appear. Perhaps it will take until the earth warms up and her stomach growls for more.

Until then. She's busy sleeping and dreaming.

I Think This is Hilarious

Anthony

Look at the face on this guy.

I got to talk to him tonight. I got to stand in his presence. I got his autograph on my book.

Here is how our conversation went.

I opened my book to a page that talked about a very embarrassing experience he had to have that page signed.

He sort of laughed.

I smiled and twittered and acted like a nervous freak (which I was) and said, "can you forgive me for this?"

He pointed to the page and said something like 'do you want it here' (meaning his signature).

I said, "right there."

That is the conversation I had with the unattainable man of my dreams.

He looks just the same in person as he does in the books and on tv. Tall. Skinny. Weirdly handsome.

He is also incredibly gracious and friendly and smiley. I don't know if its an act of PR or if he kind of likes people. Maybe some of both. I'm sure the Summit beer he had on the table helped. I didn't expect it tho. I thought he'd be sort of gnarly and negative about sitting in a chair signing books for Minnesotans in the Mall of America for 2 hours. He wasn't. At least not visibly.

As I stood in line for over an hour I thought of all of these things I could say, then talked myself out of saying all of them. I thought about and rethought about what I might like him to write in my book. And in the end just got his signature. Every other idea seemed trite or cliche or just plain dumb.

I realized, as I stood in line with my heart racing, that if I had the chance to meet God I'd just get nervous and over think the whole thing and end up not saying a darn thing.

Cool

We're blessed to have an actual, real, live sex educator in the family now thanks to my sister Laurie's impeccable taste in women.

She just sent me this cool web page that has info about your body - developed for kids.

Who Would Have Thunk It

Yesterday was the inaugural Out on the Town with Sara and Aron Sunday at Gethsemane. We went to the Mill City Museum which is one of the coolest museums I've ever been to.

While there I learned that Minneapolis is home to some of the most destructive, annoying stuff on the planet.

In the world of annoying - Minneapolis is home to the very first commercial used on radio. WCCO radio which was purchased by Washburn Crosby Company (a very large flour company that became General Mills) aired a commercial for Wheaties - the first ever commercial on the radio. So drive time assaults of mattress commercials were born in our fair city.

Minneapolis was the white flour capital of the world for 50 years. White flour. One of the causes of diabetes and obesity. Yeah. We can lay claim to that heritage.

Because of our mills (which had many, many machines all connected by belts that had to be changed while they were running - because if they weren't changed that way the entire mill would have to be shut down) we were the prosthetic limb capital of the world for a while too. Imagine changing a belt that is 3 feet wide while its on a moving machine. Hello new, wooden arm. Goodbye fine motor skills.

Because of the cement grain silos that were developed to hold wheat and flour sky scrapers were able to be built.

Yes. Yes folks. Minneapolis. Home of commercials on the radio, white flour induced belly flab and sky scraper technology.

Thankfulness

Every once in a while I post something and it bothers me for the rest of the day. Should I have posted that? I wonder. Oh goodness, that was stupid. I tell myself. I should go remove that post. I decide.

My previous post today is one of them.

Its all true. Its just empty and seems preachy and off.

The fact is I can't quite grasp how lucky we are to be healthy. A year ago I was surprising myself by praying (with some sort of outlandish vengeance) prayers of thanks for our health each night before I went to bed. Its like the prayers would just erupt out of me. I wonder if on some level I knew we weren't all healthy and I was just trying to soak up my last few weeks of thinking we were.

Today its hard to remember, in some ways, that we ARE all healthy. Eliot has no leukemia in him. Neither do the rest of us. I have to remind myself not to say things like, "my son has leukemia" and instead say things like, "my son is in treatment for leukemia."

He doesn't have leukemia. He did a year ago and we didn't know it.

Mostly its not hard to realize he doesn't have leukemia. And tonight was a night when it was easy to remember. He played and played and played with his brand new Aunt Amanda and his super fun Uncle Luke and Aron. He threw a ball and jumped on people and spun around in circles so much that he got all sweaty and took his shirt off.

Maybe, someday, I'll realize how lucky and healthy we are and how truly good that is. Maybe someday it will hit me what an honor it is to be able to smile and laugh today. Maybe someday I'll really get the power of this holiday and the fact that we're all here, breathing and living and growing now.

Maybe someday I'll really let that sink in. Maybe. Someday.

Thankful

Today I'm thankful for health. My parents and living grandparents are healthy. Aron's parents and living grandparent are healthy. Our siblings and their partners are healthy. Our niece and nephew are healthy. Our kids are healthy. We're healthy.

Healthy in the larger sense of the word. Everyone here is sick. Aron and I were both up late and up early with sick kids. I coughed and hacked all night long and kept Aron and I up. We're exhausted and sick and feel like butt.

We're healthy tho. No one has any sort of actually bad illness. We're healthy.

Thank God.

Crows

Tonight while Aron, the kids and I walked as quickly as possible in the bitter wind we saw a huge murder (that is really what they're called when in a group) of crows flying overhead.

They made me remember that late last fall (and the fall before it) massive groups of crows infest the trees along the north side of our house and call out with so much gusto that they've woken the children (insanely and annoying early in the morning). They also leave their droppings (such a nice word for such a gigantic mess) all over our patio and yard.

Last fall they surprised me. For some reason I thought the first time they did it was a fluke.

I like crows and ravens - those large, unappreciated, mystical birds. I've learned some about them and how they relate to one another, how they care for one another and how their social systems work. Its impressive and interesting to me.

When they're outside my house making a huge racket and pooping all over my yard I've been less enthusiastic about them and preferred instead to go outside and clap my hands and yell obscenities at them until they fly off - a moving, changing, gigantic organism of their own to some other unsuspecting part of our neighborhood.

Until tonight I'd forgotten how the night Eliot was diagnosed with leukemia I came home after spending 10 hours at the hospital and having my heart broken into a million pieces to find them in the trees above me calling out and pooping above me.

I felt, that night, like they were cheering me on. Like they were telling me I made it through that day and I could go back and do it again. I felt like their noise and mass and utter every-day bodily function reality was some sort of sign that I'd be okay.

That feeling of being at home and of being okay was a surprise to me. And I haven't thought about it in the year since.

Tonight I felt so happy to see them flying.

I noticed them because Eliot noticed them first (I had my head down, trying to protect my face from the wind). He was sitting, his face exposed, looking toward the sky. Ready to see our unexpected cheer team. Unafraid of what will come.

Cough Cough Cough Hack Hack Hack

I haven't slept for more than a handful of hours in a week now. I have this horrible cough that just keeps on hanging around. Wonderfully I don't have a runny nose or chills or any other horribleness. Just this cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.

Because of the lack of sleeping I'm having a lack of energy and a lack of blogging and a lack of well a lack of everything.

I've also realized something.

A year ago, when Naomi hadn't slept through the night for 11 months I was insane with exhaustion. Even 6 months ago after the 11 months of Naomi not sleeping and then the months of Eliot not sleeping just one particularly bad night of sleep would send me into a 3 day cycle of feeling like total hell.

Now, with an entire week of not sleeping I still feel better and have more energy than after just one bad night a few months ago.

So that's good. Right. A step in a good direction.

I still feel like butt. Just not complete butt.

A Little Poke and 'Some' Burning

Several weeks ago (like 8 weeks ago) I picked what seemed an innocent little something on my chin and my face bled for well over an hour and a half. It bled so long that it bled for an hour and a half after I started keeping track.

Since our awesome non-universal health care system is so efficient and we don't have any lines you have to wait in or any such horror that I'm told would certainly happen if we did have universal health care it has taken forever for me to sit down with a doctor who knew what to do with my desperately bleeding chin.

Dr. Weird Woman took about a 1/2 a second peek at my chin and said I had a Hee-Man something and that her nurse would be right in to set things up (which I thought would certainly mean setting an appointment for some time in 2010 - because our awesome efficient health care system works so well).

Instead her nurse came in and set up everything it took to poke the hell out of my face, scrape some off, put it in a vile and then burn the crap out of my chin (with what I think is the same tool they use for vasectomies which I suddenly don't think Aron should get near at all).

So one minute I was explaining mystery bleed - the next minute the doctor was right in my face saying, 'you'll feel a little poke'. That didn't bother me. Heck. A little poke. Then she said, 'and some burning'. Holy burning from hell Bat Man.

I can' believe how uncomfortable that was. And it was the stuff that numbed my face so the rest of it didn't hurt.

I sat there thinking about all of he pokes Eliot has gotten in the past year. And how for most of them he was so little and so much younger than he is now and seemingly so incapable of understanding what we were saying to him.

I thought about how when he got his pokes in the hospital especially he was so brave and we sat there and let people poke the shit out of him.

After I left that office I cried.

I almost cried in the hallway. Which is saying something. I don't cry in front of other people - especially not people who don't know me.

I had this stupid little face scrape today and it hurt and it sucked and it was nothing compared to the two IVs Eliot got in the hospital and the blood draws he got and the insane drug shots he got and the 60 million times they took his blood pressure (which hurts) and the fact that for every poke he has also taken medicine that makes food taste bad and tries to kill him.

Being an actual patient just made me think about him in a way I haven't yet and my heart broke a little more. Another piece of my heart broke off. My poor baby has had so many 'little pokes' and 'some burnings'.

And numb as it may be when it happens his little body has had so many spinal taps and other traumas.

How does he walk around. How does he smile. How do any of us do it?

Is a miracle.

The Blessing and Curse of Being Away

I had the day out of the house yesterday. It was a great day. Not just because I was out of the house. It was great because I felt great and looked great and it was a great day.

Today I'm not out of the house.

I'm in the house. All day. Here. In the house. Being mom. Doing mom. Mostly doing mom.

And I feel like I'd like to pull an Incredible Hulk. Not the violent, glowing eyes, insane part. Not the kick the crap out of people part. The get big enough to burst out of my clothes (and of course have just enough left to cover the private parts - ever notice how weird that was) and just charge off into the wilderness.

I didn't feel this way before yesterday.

Its like getting away makes the being back in harder.

In some ways its kind of like Lent gets toward the end.

I'm a big fan of the 'you can take Sunday's off' during Lent. Sometimes when I give up whatever my discipline is for one day - that Monday makes it harder.

Sometimes not.

Today my discipline is harder. Being here. Getting nothing I'd like to be getting done, done.

Being slow. Putting off my chance to focus and think and create feels like enough to make me grow out of my clothes and race out into the woods, a wild creature, living inside a basically normalish geek.

Gosh, the more that I think about this the more I wonder if the Incredible Hulk was invented by a mother.

Did you ever notice how life often feels the most rich when it is the most confusing?

Speaking of Anthony Bordain

Since I'm home alone for all of these days I might as well think about and talk about Anthony Bordain as much as possible.

Friday night I met Naomi's God Father at Barnes and Nobel and when he got there I was checking out this book. It has famous chefs and the meal they'd choose if they were facing execution and were offered that last meal of their life on this earth.

I had just turned away from the amazing page that has Anthony Bordain with just a hunk of cow and a cigarette. Yes no clothes. Just his tall, skinny, strangely tan with no tan lines self. Can we say caught in the act - checking out a hot naked guy right there in a busy book store.

Be still my beating over-weight mother of 2 heart.

It reminded me of this book. Which I am still yet to acquire. And totally intend to acquire. Its a book of porn for women that has fully dressed men doing sexy things like vacuuming.

Well the Anthony Bordain picture is closer to the traditional sense of porn.

Goodness. Can you tell I've been home alone a few too many days.

Fantasies of A Mom During Deer Hunting Season

My children woke up at 4:30 this morning. 4:30am. I'm super annoyed.

I just want some time to myself. Some time to myself when I feel rested and calm.

Not time to myself at the end of the day when I'm strung out and exhausted.

The other day I had the urge to go out dancing and just dance and dance and dance and dance until the place closed (whatever place it was - I have no idea where to go dancing) and then go find a hotel somewhere and sleep in until the next evening and have dinner for breakfast because I slept so long.

In my fantasy I had a skinny little body again (not Twiggy skinny - just not 25 pounds of extra me) and I had a cute wardrobe (which I've NEVER had) and I knew how to dance (which would be even more miraculous than actually sleeping all day).

It was so awesome.

Today I'm going to work on that fantasy and make it even better.

Maybe Anthony Bordain will be there with me.

Except for the sleeping at the hotel part.

The key to this fantasy is a lot of SLEEP in the MIDDLE of a bed. By myself. No one bugging me.
Just sleeping and sleeping.

And sleeping.

And sleeping.

Speaking of Looking Like A Goof Ass in Public

I was just re-reading that swinging post and remembered a time in college when I walked through a parking lot singing the A B C's (yes A, B, C, D, E....Z Next time won't you sing with me) at the top of my lungs.

I sang what I can only believe was the entire alphabet and most of next time won't you sing with me when I made good mid-western eye contact with one of my fellow parking lot walkers who gave me sort of an odd smile.

Their smile made me realize that the singing I thought I was doing inside of my head was actually coming right out of my mouth.

That's something about me.

I think my thoughts out loud a lot.

Often when I have an idea I'll talk about it out loud. Most often when I'm out for a walk.

So I don't look like a total fool I'll often pull out my cell phone and pretend I'm telling someone on the other end about my new idea. I'm not tho.

I'm just a crazy lady walking down the street talking to herself with her cold cell phone pressed to her ear.

Swinging

I took the kids to Duluth for a few days and we had a genuinely excellent time.

We went to a park yesterday and I pushed the kids on the swing so long that my hands started to hurt. Like the actual joints in my hands started to hurt. I had to stretch the muscles in my hands.

I took a break at one point and sat on a swing and started swinging.

I don't remember the last time I swung, swang, swinged? Goodness. What in the world is the past tense of swing?

You get the picture.

I don't remember the last time I sat in a swing, grabbed the chains and actually hoisted myself through the air.

It was amazing.

It felt so incredibly good.

I felt like I was flying.

It was so wonderful that I closed my eyes and just sat there swinging. I got overwhelmed and yelled out.

Yee. Hee.

I was sitting there, nearly 33 years old, swinging so high the chains were going slack, with my eyes closed and probably the goofiest looking smile of bliss ever on my face and yelled 'YEE. HEE' right there at the park.

I was in my own little world.

Well. Until the 'YEE. HEE' came out which scared the dickens out of Eliot and he told me to, "Mama, get off that swing."

When I kept swinging he told me again and again until I did get off the swing.

Oh that feeling of flying, of being out of control, of being in control of that out of control feeling. The air in my hair, the funny feeling in my stomach.

YEE. HEE.

I'm So Glad I Believe in God

Today Eliot was playing with his plastic mouse and plastic rat and he said, "This is a rat, it has a long tail, this is a mouse, it has a short tail."

I didn't know he knew that, now that the kids have much more child care than they've ever had before they keep whipping out little facts and figures I didn't teach them. Its amazing.

He asked me why rat tails are long and mouse tails are short and I said, "because God made them that way."

And then I thought to myself, "Wow, whoever made up God must have been the mother of a 3 year old."

And then I had this great idea to blog about how God was invented by the mother of a three year old.

And then I started to get nervous that I'd be read wrong and sound as if I'm a heretic, or even worse think I (or someone like me) invented God.

And so I changed the entire theme of this blog post in my head in the few hours since the whole lovely exchange happened.

Oh the many wonders of self-doubt.

Its Rodent Season Again

The mice are back. I picked a zip lock bag of Cheerios off the living room floor this evening and found a big hole in the end of it.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Kill

Kill

Kill

The rodents

I think we're going to have to dig a trench under the over hang thingy in our house to see if they're getting in over there.

That is going to be ever so much fun.

And oh gosh - once we dig the trench and if we find a hole what do we do with the hole.

I guess I'll have to go find some mesh or something and some steel wool and some caulk and plug up the hole and hope for the best.

Fun.

Super fun.

And then if they keep getting in I think we get to dig under our front porch. Now THAT will be a joy.

Read Aron's Take on The Diocese of MN

Aron (AKA Sexiest Priest Alive, AKA My husband) wrote his take on the diocese here. Check it out.

Here is What Was Hard for Me About Conventioin

Our Diocesan Convention ended yesterday. It was a extra-super interesting convention for me. Perhaps because I wasn't carting babies around, perhaps because I finally understand parliamentary procedure, perhaps because this was a particularly interesting year.

I had a hard time during a few debates. I sat there watching leaders in the church talking about how we don't have enough. How we don't have enough. We don't have enough collaboration. We don't have enough time. We don't have enough process. We don't have enough money.

A few months ago I felt soooooooo proud of myself because I realized that what is at the seat of my faith is that where God is the concept of 'not enough' doesn't belong. That realization came when I was thinking about some statements I heard on a conservative religious radio show (oh how Aron listens to these shows to see what 'the other side' is saying and oh how they drive me nuts).

There was all of this talk about how gay people are bad and don't belong and should change their evil ways and how families with 2 working parents are sinning and on and on and on and on and on.

I remember it hitting me. Just clear as day.

Jesus came here to tell us what God keeps showing us. There is always enough. Usually more than enough. Enough room for everyone. Enough food for everyone. Enough time. Enough space. We are enough.

Yet the conversation yesterday was about not enough, not enough, not enough.

Today I'm trying to be a believer in enough.

Yet, I'm finding myself wondering this. Who in the world is going to be willing to be our bishop after what we did and said yesterday. Who in their right mind would want to come here.

That is probably a bunch of bologna.

Or maybe it isn't. Or maybe it is.

Either way I have to admit its a lot more fulfilling to think the term 'a bunch of bologna' than to write it. When you write the word 'bologna' that 'a' just takes the whole fun out of it.

5 Years

5 Years ago I was working for The University of Minnesota Duluth in their Residence Life office. I went to a conference for that work in St. Paul 5 years ago this week. The conference ended on a Friday afternoon and Aron came to the final banquet and then we drove to Minneapolis for the start of the Diocesan Convention for the Episcopal Diocese of Minnesota.

I remember sitting in the banquet during that convention and thinking to myself that if I wanted to work my way up the ladder I could be the president of the Residence Life organization within 10-15 years. I remember thinking that if I wanted to work my way up the ladder in the church it could take 40 or 50 years or maybe never happen.

I remember realizing that I had a lot more interest in the church. I remember being shocked by that realization.

Shocked.

Shocked.

Shocked.

A few months later I was offered a job in the church and I took it and left the Residence Life job and now here I am. I was voted, yesterday, to attend my second General Convention - this time as an alternate - last time as a deputy.

I sat in on a majority of the business sessions yesterday at convention as a visitor and actually understood what people said, had an opinion about it and felt engaged enough not to pay attention to how much my butt was hurting.

Life is one odd ball maze with unexpected turns and surprises.

What I'd Steal If I Had the Chance

Praise God and all things mighty that I don't have to plan a wedding now or ever again.

If I had to plan another wedding right now (did I mention how glad I am that I don't have to) I'd steal some cool stuff I saw this past year.

Since July I have attended 6 weddings.

Six.

I've seen some amazing stuff.

At Zach and Amanda's wedding they made us adorable little scrolls of cool vellum paper with tree leave shaped cut outs wrapped in beautiful ribbon that said they gave a donation to a cause they both care about instead of giving us some silly give-away thingy we'd never use again. Cool. Very. Very. Cool!

At Caroline and Aaron's wedding they had cupcakes instead of a cake. The cutest, yummiest, most festive cupcakes you've ever seen. It was so great to have your very own cupcake instead of a piece of sheet cake that you know darn well cost the poor couple or their poor parents about $4.50. People walked up to a central place and picked out a whole plate full of cupcakes for the people at their table. They were all sitting out all cute and fun. They were GREAT! And there were extras. I had 2.

Erin and Chris had their reception at the conservatory at Como Park. It was so stinking beautiful.

Tara and Carlo had their wedding in a park near a fountain that was so loud we couldn't hear the whole "to have and to hold until you're ugly and fat" part and it was so beautiful and wonderful. We all knew what was being said and watching them do it was kind of like a meditation in weddings. And it gave them some privacy. It was lovely.

We were all sitting in wonderful, white fold-up chairs and the program