Mondays Irritating Question

Sundays question is, "How are you doing?" For most people I give some version of normal like: "Fine", "Doing all right.",  "Been busy" or list some activity we did or might think about doing.  Then along comes Monday and the question changes to, "So, how was your weekend?"  Really?  What is with the small talk?  I hate small talk.  I don't even like the phrase "small talk".  Why does the fact that I am trapped in a chiropractors office mean that I have any desire to have the same conversation starter that I don't want to start, started over and over.  This chiropractor has several therapies going on in series so I endured this question more than normal in a short span of time.  By the time I was at the massage therapists station I was so done dancing around the question of my weekend.

We somehow ended up having a real conversation.  I steered it by commenting on why my neck and shoulders were so tense and knotted up.  I simply said I've been really stressed for the last couple of weeks.  In turn she asked about why or what has been the stress.  We ended up with a genuine conversation about Bob Jones University and the GRACE investigation and also another Christian college she was much more familiar with.  I think she was a bit more free than she planned on being and seemed worried that I would be offended; and stressed that I did ask and it was only her opinion.  Hopefully I put her at ease on that point, but I doubt it.  I did enjoy a real conversation not based on polite small talk.  I didn't say much; it only took a decent comment on my part and she was off and running.  After the massage station I only had to endure one more person asking me about my weekend. :D

In case you were wondering, but certainly wouldn't dare to ask me now; my weekend was a mixed bag.  Friday was a major trigger type day.  I thought I could read a Psalm without ill effects.  NOPE, crash and burn.  Friday night was a big church get together at somebodies house.  That was good, but still triggering and I stayed more on the outer edges of things.  I love a good party and the wine was great and quite helpful.  Saturday we had a picnic and walked around downtown and enjoyed the day.  We hit all the little shops that we never stop in, and I found two Louis L'Amour books I haven't read yet.  Sunday at church was mildly difficult on my scale.  I was able to stay here even when triggered, and only had a few flashbacks.  In the afternoon I went out for dessert with a friend for my birthday, and I enjoyed it.  So that was my weekend.

Writing it out doesn't sound so bad, but when I was asked about my weekend  the only things I could remember were the intense triggers on Friday because I read a Psalm and the triggers and flashbacks on Sunday that stayed in the manageable range.  I only needed to use a handful of methods to keep me here and didn't have to use them the whole time.  I wish my first thoughts were of the nice picnic and the shops and going out with my friend.  I didn't think of any of those things the whole time I was at the chiropractors office being asked constantly about my weekend.  I don't know why

Themed Blogging Days

Thinking about ways of being more intentional with this blog and I'm going to try themed blogging days.  Something like:
Marvelous Monday, Mad Monday or Morbid Monday or maybe just to be a little more "normal" I'll do Monday Munchies.
Truthful Tuesday, Tuesday Triggers, Troubled Tuesday, or Torturous Tuesdays: a walk down memory lane
Wednesday Wonders, Wordless Wednesday(I like pictures and occasionally I take a good one)
Theology Thursday (I could probably write on this, pose questions, post about the crappy "answers" I've received over the years)
Fearful Friday or Fabulous Friday (That's really polar opposites, maybe I'll just skip Fridays)
Searching Saturdays (open ended theme that can work for a lot of things, even normal living life stuff)

Past collides with present

We had a family of nine live with us for three months. It kept my mind off of myself. I did continue with the counseling until my 12 year old stepped on (really jumped on) a pickax. At that point I was focused on getting his foot healed and didn't go anywhere for a while and then Thanksgiving and then Christmas and then winter kicked in with a vengence and I couldn't drive the hour to my counseling sessions.

Spring has arrived and we are busy with all the details of building a house. My husband is also looking for a job, so that figures in. I whine around in my mind and on this blog about not having the time or money for counseling. I am homeschooling my children and tutoring 2 others. So that does take up time, but the real thing is that I'm just scared to face up to how I'm allowing what happened in the past to still mess me up in the now. I function as though I was hatched as an adult and am disconnected from my own self. Maybe I'm just thinking weird here. I try really hard to live now without the past intruding.

My 11 year old just figured out this year that the grandma she thought was my mother wasn't really my mother. She added up the grandma's and had too many. I only tell them the good stuff from my childhood. Sometimes I slip and say something along the lines of, "You have no idea what it means to have to be perfect all the time! I don't expect perfection!!!" My 14 year old was complaining that I expected her to be perfect all the time and if she wasn't she got in trouble. The "trouble" she got into is that I give her a short lecture about why she should have done x the way or when I told her to. She says I yell at her. I told her that I have never yelled at her in a glass throwing volume. That was a slip. I've never told my kids about the screaming and dish throwing my mom did. I've never even told my dad.

I was really mad when my daughter said the same things to me that I thought about my mother when I was growing up. I am not the pyscho my mother was! Proof point: I calmly discussed her complaints, but inside I was furious. She couldn't tell how mad I was. My husband couldn't either. I did good.

Update and letter writing

We have moved once again, but this time it is to the land I've always dreamed of. Some day we will have horses and cows, but for now we have chickens and too many dogs. The children are settled in and enjoying life. My child who has caused my many tears has made a great effort to be a part of the family again. My marriage has yo yo'ed back and forth under the stress; but it has settled into familiar patterns again. I'm not sure if that is good or bad:) Anyway we are determined to remain married and to enjoy it. Some days it's more work than others.

I have over 50 tomato seedlings trying to grow. I think they are too spindley. Hopefully they will thicken up over the next 4-5 weeks. Onions: I have planted a whole bunch but I don't really know what they are supposed to be doing above ground.

I haven't been back to counseling since the counselor wanted me to write a letter to my dad; I didn't have to give it to him, but still it wasn't something I wanted to do. I guess I'm a chicken because I told her I didn't want to but haven't gone back since, to face her with it not being done.
She wants me to blame him for not being able to trust him and tell him about what was going on at school. I don't blame my dad. I blame the teacher and I blame my mom for being my "Mommy Dearest". I was screwed up, but my dad was the only one who was there for me without being needy himself. He may have talked to me too much, but for the most part he let me stay a child. No such luck with my mom.

I'll call tomorrow and make an appointment again and stand my ground against letter writing to my dad. Easier said than done. When I get mad I cry and that makes me mad and then I cry...I think she will make me mad.

How can I love my unloveable child?

What does unconditional love look like when the "performance" is so wretched?

How do I make a distinction between accepting him but not accepting the behavior?

I have a hard time with living like I know that God loves me even when I mess up. I most often live like I have to earn God's favor by my actions. Underneath what I "know" is what I actually believe at my core. I know that God loves me by his choice, but really believe that my actions determine whether He "likes" me.

That's the way I parent too. I love my kids but don't like all of them. I choose to love them, but their actions determine if I actually "like" them at any given time.

Do I have to like my kids in order to truly love them?
How do I love a child who is so awful without seeming to either reward or ignore his behavior?
How can I demonstrate love to my child even while disliking him.

Guess what yesterdays sermon was about.
Yep, one of the points dealt with our relationship to God as Father. I've been chewing on it ever since. Three of my kids are great and teachable and want to do right; but one is not. (Read that as understatement of the year) I would be insufferably proud of my parenting skills if I didn't have the one. I've learned that I don't know it all. I've learned that I don't even understand my relationship with God as my Father. I am still bound up with legalism in my parenting. I don't know how or even if I should do things differently. Is is okay to be legalistic in parenting? Should kids have to earn approval by their actions? Do I tie up my approval of what my kids do, with who they are? I think I do, but should I?

My "one" is not allowed back at church unless Hubby is there. How do I explain that to him? For now I'm not. He doesn't even know. I told him he can go with Grandpa on Sundays and mow the grass etc. to pay back the mirror he broke off his car(a genuine accident, not rage)

How does that fit in with God's love and acceptance of us in spite of what we do? The "one's" acceptance at church is based on his actions. That's the way life is. But shouldn't the church reflect how God relates to us instead of how the world relates? This brings up the idea of covenant children. Since Hubby and I are christians where does that leave our children? Are we to view them as part of the covenant and treat them as such? At what point do we concede the point that perhaps a particular child is not included and should be treated as an unbeliever?

I wish I understood more. I just come up with more questions.

Eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow we die---I wish

Sometimes we go through such terrible periods of time in life that we don't want any written record of it, as though it never happened. I am going through such a time right now. I've come up with a new twist on "Eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow we die". Instead I say, "Enjoy today because tomorrow will be worse"; and it is. No matter how bad today is there is a tomorrow coming that is so much worse.

Do I fellowship with sinners?

I hope so. Jesus did.

Does it matter when a sin was committed as long as it's repented of? Ohh, you did what? Was that before or after you were saved? As if we're the judge whether that has been forgiven or not. Here's a great example I read somewhere recently online but forgot where. I think it was only a story. I don't have it all right, but I have the basic gist of it.

There are two men who were both in jail and were saved. One of the men murdered his wife and the other robbed a store. Parole day came and they both got out. The wife of the man who robbed the store had gotten involved with some other guy and now wanted a divorce. She divorced him.
Both men went on to be faithful and involved in a local church and after a while felt God leading them into ministry. The one time wife murderer asked and received counsel from his pastor and was encouraged to go to seminary because "brother, all your sins are under the blood". The second guy was really relieved that the guy who murdered his wife got the pastors approval and blessing to go into the ministry. So he goes in to talk to the pastor. The pastor asks him about his divorce and whether it was before or after he was saved. Verifying that it occured after salvation he told him he was disqualified from the ministry. "What do mean, disqualified? I didn't kill her. She divorced me."

Yeah, that makes a lot of sense doesn't it? He should be free to remarry, pastor and live the Christian life a forgiven sinner like the rest of us. How many people did Paul have killed before he was saved? God forgave him and used him greatly. Paul never forgot where he came from, but he didn't allow it to chain him in the past and keep him from loving God and serving him in the present.

Sometimes I feel chained to the past. In a way I am. My past influences my present and my plans for the future. It's all connected. I'm not sure how to disengage from the past. The abuse I suffered at the hands of my teacher has affected me my whole life, even though I didn't remember the worst of it until fairly recently. It influenced the type of men I was drawn to or repelled by. My experiences drove my parenting practices. I had a big push with my kids on sneaky child catchers who seemed really nice, but just wanted to steal them away from mommy and daddy and hurt them. We watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang with them at age 3 and used that to teach them. The teaching paid off.

Someone tried to get my 5 year old son at the park one day. He was playing in the sandbox and a man came up and talked to him. He told him he had some candy for him if he would go with him to the bathroom. My son said he wasn't done playing yet, he'd go later. The man walked down towards the bathroom. When he was almost there my son jumped up and took 2 steps towards the bathroom, did a 180 and ran straight to me. (I was on the way to him) He was so proud of himself for tricking the child catcher.

So yeah, that's one good thing that came out of my abuse. That's a great thing, but I think God could have used a different method than that to get me to teach my children about the "bad guys who look good". Romans 8:28 is a hard sell for me. It's kinda like getting hit with a baseball bat to get your attention when a "hey you" would have worked just as well. Faith,Trust, Understanding, I wish I could understand. I push it down and pretend everything is ok. It's not. Eventually it comes back because it refuses to stay pushed down. What do I do with it?

Mother's Day is hard to take.

Mothers Day can be such a rough day. Fill in the blank as to why. This is the first year I didn't have to hint to my husband about having the kids do something. We did talk this week about how awful it has always been for me. On the one hand it holds painful reminders of the past, but on the other hand it exists for me in the present in a good way as the mother, not the child.

I get tired of telling my husband things that really matter in life, and then he forgets. He has never remembered Mother's Day until this year. I buy his mom's cards and tell him to sign it. The last few years I've told him to buy his own card for his mom. So he forgets things I tell him, like how much I hate Mother's Day and why. Today he remembered.

We're going to this new church, which I really love, but it scares me spitless to meet so many new people and not know where I fit in. I did a lot better today and didn't walk as many laps to the restroom and back so I'd look like I was doing something or going somewhere. When we walked in the moms were handed a colorfully wrapped card, and I thought that was very nice. I also thought that would be it but it was a shortlived relief. I think it was near the end of the singing time that they had all the mothers stand. I stood along with the rest and he just talked and talked (it probably wasn't really that long; just felt like it) and then everyone clapped. I sat down, the rest of the moms stayed standing and the clapping went on and on. Once I sat down my husband put his arm around me and kept patting my shoulder to the point of it being overdone. What can I say? This is the year he finally got how rough Mother's Day is for me. I wonder if he'll remember next year.

My daughter can't frown

My daughter just came in to tell me that she couldn't frown anymore. When she tried to frown her mouth just twitched and stayed smiling. "Mama, my smile is stuck on my face. I can't stop; my cheeks are aching. I've been smiling all day."

The contrast between her and me at her age is worlds apart. At her age I couldn't smile. At her age I had been horribly violated by a teacher I trusted and that everyone seemed to love.

She reminds me of myself "before". How can I protect her? There are several registered sex offenders of minors who live within several blocks of our house, and we live in a good neighborhood.

My daughter can't frown. I am so glad! She smiles and bounces. So far she is safe. She hasn't been robbed of her childhood innocence.

Myth Buster: The Ice Cream Truck

Yesterday my kids heard the ice cream truck. They were so excited! We've told them stories about the ice cream truck back when we were kids, but until yesterday only one of them had ever even seen one and none of them had ever had anything from the ice cream truck. A friend of theirs ran home to get money, just like in our stories. The music played and kids gathered around the truck looking at the pictures of various frozen treats and agonizing over their choice. It was like going back in time. Do you know what my oldest said later? He said, "I thought the ice cream truck was a myth like Santa Claus."

Now we've never told our kids Santa was real, played Santa or took pictures with Santa. They never even watched all the cute little Christmas cartoons until this last year, and I have two old enough for youth group. The first time they heard the story "The Night Before Christmas" was one of the Southern versions that I bought for Christmas this year. At first I didn't know why he would say he thought it was one of the things adults make up as a conspiracy just like Santa Claus. (He likes the word conspiracy) Then I remembered snipe hunting. I don't know if anyone hunts snipes outside of the South, but down here its a big thing. It's also a big joke. We've played our kids on this until they reach the ripe old age of twelve before we let them in on the secret. They want to continue it with the younger ones so they never let on and so the snipe hunts continue.

He made the leap from snipe hunt to ice cream truck within minutes. That again verified to my husband and I that we made the right choice about not doing Santa Claus with the kids. The comparision of Jesus Christ to Santa Claus in our minds was too easy to make. We feared that if we did Santa that one day our kids would question if Jesus was real or not. None of our friends and family agreed except a very extreme family member. So we've taken a lot of hits over the years on our Santa stance.

Maybe we should reconsider snipe hunts?......nah, they are just too much fun!