Please Secure Your Oxygen Mask

Before attempting to assist anyone else.

I know we've all heard this when we took a flight somewhere as part of the pre-flight safety instructions given to us by the flight attendants. As a mom, it would be my natural reaction to get an oxygen mask on my kids first and worry about myself later. But the fact is, doing so would probably cost me my life and possibly their lives as well. Here is the science behind that safety tid-bit. When a plane has a decompression problem and the oxygen masks drop, its because the oxygen level in the plane has gotten too low. And without oxygen you will become confused, disoriented, and eventually pass out. You basically have 15 to 20 seconds before you'll become too disoriented to be able to figure out how to put your oxygen mask on. So lets say you grab a mask and put it on your kid, your kid struggles a bit because "WHAT IS MOMMY DOING?" and it takes you 15 seconds to get it on your child. Now you are becoming confused. What was I doing? Why? Why is everyone wearing those masks? Who put that mask on my child? Lets take it off.

And Boom Goes the Dynamite. You and your child will soon pass out and eventually, without enough oxygen, the brain shuts down completely.

So um, what does this have to do with today? Because I'm certainly not on a plane. The fact is, that we too often try to do everything for everybody else and forget to take care of ourselves. Especially as a mom. We work hard to make sure everyone has healthy meals, enough sleep, proper clothing, a good education, quality time with us, time outside in the sun, a bath, hair brushed, at church, safe car seats, creative outlets, play time with friends, the openess to ask us questions, the love to feel secure.

And that is just for our kids. Then we try to help our spouses, our friends, our non-immediate family and we run out of time before we are done helping everyone. We find ourselves at the end of the day disoriented, confused, exhausted and shutting down.

The fact is we NEED "me time". Time to do nothing, time to do something that is important to you. Time to recharge, collect our thoughts and calm our spirits. "BUT THERE ISN'T TIME!" we all wail. I'm too busy, too tired, too. . .whatever. The fact is there is time. We just have have to learn to adjust our schedules to put ourselves in there. First. I know there is a part of the mommy in me recoiling at the selfishness of it all. I'm clutching my pearls in shock that someone would ever advise a mother to put herself first, in front of her kids. But the truth is - we have to. Without that metaphorical oxygen mask on, we aren't the mothers we are supposed to be. We begin running around in a tizzy trying to do too much to help others when we would be much more efficient, focused, high quality super moms if we could just figure out how to breathe.

Kill the little devil!

My daughter is bright and inquisitive. She wants to know how everything works and how things are made and why is this like this. I feel like I spend my days fielding questions from out of the far left portion of her brain.

How are clocks made? (I don't know)

Why does water look blue in the lake but not in my cup? (it has to do with the reflection of the sky and the length of light waves)

How did the baby get in there? (God put it there) How will it get out? (The doctors will take it out)

Do you think cats like cat food? Or would they rather eat pizza? (i have no clue and we aren't going to offer them the pizza)

But occasionally she asks things that really make me start to think. . .

Mommy, how did the devil become the devil? If he was a bad angel, and God kicked him out of heaven, why didn't God just kill him?

I gave her the pat answer. . . God wanted us to "want" to do his will, not do good because we didn't have a choice. And Satan provides that choice.

She accepted it - but it really made me start to think. Why did God allow him to go free? Why not kill him and keep us from a life of pain, suffering and consequences? Did he really want our freely given love so much that he was willing to loose so many in exchange?

What if your Life Didn't Suck?

That is the title of my pastor's upcoming sermon for Easter morning. What if? What if your life didn't suck? What if you could be truly happy? What if you could find purpose and meaning and fulfillment? The message is aimed at getting those who aren't Christian's interested in coming to church. But I'm finding that just the title and purpose are applying to me. As a Christian, do I ACT like my life doesn't suck? I am totally guilty of complaining about the things in my life. . .housework, kids, work, marriage - how should I have been behaving? There is a fine line between being optimistic and being fake. How are you? I'm great - if I was any better it would be a crime. or I'm ok. or I'm really struggling with X right now. What is the right answer? Is it being fake to tell people I'm ok if I'm not in an effort to convince them that my life doesn't suck? Is it better to be honest and real and tell them what I'm dealing with? I'm thinking its attitude specific. Its ok for me to be honest and real and tell people about my struggles - but I need to make sure that I continue to be real and express my belief that God will carry me through it.

Suck - Term of general disparagement, indicating the subject or situation has no redeeming qualities. Does my life have NO REDEEMING QUALITIES? Absolutely not. Despite my penchant for complaining, my life has abundant goodness. And overall - my life has hope - God is going to be there for me. God is going to comfort me. Life won't always be full of sweet chocolately goodness - but He will always hold me.

And BTW - Jesus would totally say "suck". He was on the fringe, a radical, living with and dealing with ordinary people all the time. I'm sure he spoke in ways they could understand. That is why there are parables. . . .I can just picture Jesus saying "I came so that your life wouldn't suck"

Chants and Rants

Daylight Savings - what a load of garbage. I love love love the fall time change, my "woo!" gland goes into overdrive at the thought of an extra hour of sleep. But this one stinks. Loosing that hour seems so unfair somehow. And despite all my plans to get the kids in bed early, and get myself in bed early - it doesn't happen. Ever. So tonight, I'm still up, waiting for a cheesecake to come out of the oven so I can go to bed. And my brain is mumbling that its really almost 1 am. Booooooooo.

But I'm still riding my "hope high" from the doctor's visit on Friday. Yes - I did it - I actually did go see the doctor and stand on the scale despite my weight. And I told him all about being tired, and my dreams and he seems to think its a sleep problem, not a deficiency problem (iron, b12, hormonal or otherwise). So he started me on some meds and I took half of one last night and my dreams? They weren't as crazy as before. I was still looking for stuff, but I was finding some of it. AND I was finding it at the beach! (Maybe this dream means I need to take a vacation. . . .hmmmm) True - I spent the first part of today in a dizzy fog, but hopefully that will pass as my body adjusts. So to sum up: Wooooo! for medicine. Booooooo! for Daylight Savings.

REM - Stand in the place where I live.

So life continues with its unabashed craziness. Both of my kids have come down with strep so I'm sending out a big old "thank you" to the parent who refuses to keep their kid home from church when they are sick - you have caused me to think outside the box as far as childcare goes this week, as well as discover just how miserable DramaQueen can be when her fever reaches over 102.5. Its these wonderful creative and enlightening moments that cause me to think of you and wonder if you are sleeping well tonight. May you enjoy a life of bad hair days.

But with a few doses of that magical elixir known as Penicillin, we are on the road to recovery and looking forward to a night of sleeping again. And I have suddenly become full, nay flush with hope. Because I have made a decision. A decision that I have been pondering for several months - and this is where this post goes from normal woman makes decision - to 9 miles of crazy woman shows her obsessive disorder's impact on her life. And this monumental decision is - TO GO TO THE DOCTOR. I'm really and truly beyond exhausted and I've been this way for several months. Lets say a minimum of 90 consecutive days of exhaustion because I can't sleep worth a phooey. I can GO to sleep without any problem. Generally the problem is I can go to sleep even if its not an appropriate time. . .like when I'm sitting at my computer working, or when I've only been out of bed for an hour, or um. . .driving my car. And I can stay asleep for as long as the kids will let me - and sometimes even past that point. But I don't rest when I'm asleep. I have crazy chaotic dreams that cause me to be just as exhausted when I wake up as I was the night before. Like - serious crazy crazy.

I'm in the grocery store. I'm looking for an extremely large container of chocolate so I can make fudge. Lots of fudge. The store doesn't have the brand I'm looking for and I'm searching everywhere. There are other brands, but for some reason I simply cannot make the fudge with the other brands. I'm searching through huge buckets of chocolate for the kind I need and all of a sudden I'm panicking because the horses won't have enough fudge. Because now there is a stable (in the grocery store!) with horses that I'm trying to get ready for a big storm - get blankets and blinders and I know nothing about horses so its just weird stuff that I'm trying to put on the horses and lead them into the underground storm shelter before the hurricane hits. They are generally not wanting to go into this weird bomb/fallout shelter that I'm trying to drag them into and the people around me are getting agitated over the horses and its starting to storm and the power goes out and rain starts falling through the roof onto our heads and I have to just forget the horses and run into the shelter myself. Above me I can hear the horses running around and neighing in fear and chaos and I'm guilty guilty guilty that I didn't get them down there and there is a loud roar that I think is the hurricane but I turn around and its a race car. Lots of race cars - my husband is driving one and Dude is driving another one and Ahh-nald is driving another one. My husband and Dude are trying to beat Ahh-nald because he is evil.

And then I mercifully wake up. So, after spending months of having dreams like this (not exactly - just generally chaos, stress, guilt, huh? type dreams) I'm very very tired. And our Bible study this week was on work and rest and one of the questions was "Do you get enough rest?" My answer was an emphatic "NO!" and I was shocked to discover that most other people in the group answered that they might be tired for a short time, but generally feel OK and rested. Do you mean that being exhausted isn't just a by-product of being an adult? REALLY? So at the urging of my friends I made an appt with my doctor. The really huge news - I'm going to the doctor KNOWING that I'm overweight. Normally I refuse to go in until I get down past my "Oh Crap" number - but when I called to make the appointment, he could see me on Friday. Like in 2 days. There is no way I'll be down to reasonable by then. But I'm going anyway. Wish me luck. And Sleep.

3 is a magic number

School house rock - I can hum the tune almost in my sleep - but for me 3 is not a magic number. My "magic" number is higher - but still unattainably low. And despite knowing better, despite intellectually knowing that its not healthy to worship or offer up sacrifices to the scale goddess (because it is a goddess - only a female would be that truly hateful and moody) - I do. I tiptoe to the thing every morning - hoping that if I sneak up on it unexpectedly it might be startled into revealing a lower number. I'm stripped naked - having gone to the bathroom, before I eat breakfast and before I shower; convinced that all of these things cause my weight to be lower. I step on it and say a little prayer that the indiscretions of yesterday won't show up this morning. But they always do.

My magic number is the one that in my brain would be THE perfect weight - but I have another important number as well - the "oh crap" number. Generally its the number that causes me to freak out, to fast, to eat only raw vegetables and to begin exercising with the determination of an iron man competitor. But for the last year, it hasn't. It hasn't caused the panic and racing heart. I still hate it. Hate it with a passion and out loud I say "I've got to do something" but it just hasn't kicked my butt into gear and I've been waffley about actually following a strict diet and fitness routine. Don't get me wrong - I think about what I eat (obsessively - see blog description) and I work out at least 3 times a week. But its a half hearted effort - something I'm doing out of my crazy need to feel like I'm doing something - not out of a real hope for results or change. Something I do so that I can say hopelessly - "I don't know why I'm not losing weight. . .I work out". But this morning. . .the "oh crap" number was far behind me and the "Holy Mother of GOD howDidThisHappen None of my pants are going to fit" number appeared on the screen.

Holy Mother of God - how did this happen? None of my pants are going to fit.

Raindrops on roses

Its been a bear of a day. Hectic although also productive. And now I'm trying to get the kids in bed - we are trying to wean PeePot from her pacifier at bedtime and so she's fussing nonstop instead of sleeping, DramaQueen has misplaced her "lovie" and is upset about that. In an attempt to find my peaceful place this morning I started a list - with all apologies to Julie Andrews - and I've continued it throughout the day.

Saturday morning snuggles with the whole family

Being able to see the steam in the shower

Freshly baked cookies

A fresh blank notebook (any office supplies really)

A good math problem

A new recipe that turns out fantastic

F's hair, PeePot's hair, DramaQueen's hair

A rainy afternoon with a good book, a cup of hot cider and a nap

My iPod

My Tivo

F and PeePot and DramaQueen

Watching DramaQueen read

PeePot saying "Mommy - Hold You"

A shiny clean kitchen sink

Will the dishes please shut up

So its 10:30 or so at night, its been a busy day and a crazier week. The kids are in bed, F and I just finished a movie and he headed up to bed. I'm very very tired. But the dishes are calling me. Really - I can hear them calling "Ordinary Idiot we are dirrrrrrrty. You cannot leave us in the sink all night long. We'll breed diseases and bugs will come live in your house. Come wash us before going to bed."

Your dishes don't talk to you? Mine do - but they are decidedly nocturnal. They only feel up for conversation when I'm thinking of going to bed. I'm tired (did I already mention that?) and I know that they will be waiting for me in the morning. I'll wish they were clean in the morning when I wake up. But worse than that, I really have trouble sleeping with dirty dishes in the kitchen. I'll wake up some nights after loading the dishwasher and going to bed and realize with a start that I forgot to start it. So I crawl out of bed to start the dishwasher at 2 AM so that I can sleep better.

Some evenings I attack the dishes aggressively - rinsing off everyone's dinner dishes as soon as they put the last bite in their mouth. Getting irritated with F when he has a soda after supper and puts the dirty glass in my CLEAN sink. But some nights, especially on the weekends, the family just sits around the table after dinner chatting and laughing and then all of a sudden the kids are tired and its time for bed and upstairs for diaper changes and pjs and bedtime hugs and then I'm suddenly without the motivation to do more than walk past the kitchen with a guilty look on my way to the sofa or the computer.

But the dishes don't forget about me - they wait patiently until my eyelids start to fall and then they engage in a shouting match with the bed - each warring to get my attention and win the battle over where I will choose to go first.

Maybe I need sleeping pills. Maybe I need earplugs.

If you've got the money honey

I just want to know how you got it. Not to be all nosey or whatever, but these people who live in mansions by the lake and drive crazy expensive cars - or maybe they don't drive them, but they own them and have people to drive them around - WHAT do you do for a living? Are you secretly a drug czar? Are you selling your brain to science? Did you invent tupperware? I just want to know - because F and I make good money - we don't really want for anything - but we are never going to have that lifestyle.

And I guess I don't really want all of it. I just want to not have to worry about it so much anymore. I don't want it to consume my dreams and I don't want to sprout ulcers when I view our checking account balance. I'd like to believe that one day it'll just be a "thing" - like every other thing in life. Its there but not all consuming.

What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul? Mark 8:36

I'm not all about money - really I'm not. And as much as this post seems like I totally am completely absorbed by it - I try not to be. Its just weighing on me lately. Trying to figure out how to be the best mom and wife and employee all at the same time and GEEZ is that hard. I'm juggling raw eggs and they just keep hitting the floor - kerrrsplattttt - and raw egg goo is spackling my pants legs and little pieces of shell is getting stuck in my hair and not a single drop is landing in the bowl where I'm trying to make a cake. I just want to feel like I'm making progress.