Posted in Gifts, Insane in the Brain, Living Water, mental-health, Movies, Thanks for the memories

a Date


Personing is hard.  At any given moment an infinite variation of life is coming at you.

Mothering is hard.  It’s complicated.  Consuming.  4 people’s perfect souls are in my care.  They are all 4 so vastly unique.  They each need something different from the others.  And possibly even different than what they needed 3 hours ago.

Being a wife is beautiful.  Amazing.  Rewarding.  And hard.  It demands that your ever evolving humanity hyphenates wholeheartedly with another person’s ever evolving humanity.

PTSD is hard.  Actually, it sucks balls.  It is vicious.  Unpredictable.  Parasitic.  It is about 5 full-time jobs rolled into one that you can’t clock out of.  Your body is constantly picking up the slack for your brain.  Your brain is all, “Bye, Felicia” when you need it most and your body is left to pick up the fragments.  Flashbacks are always at the most inconvenient times and inappropriate situations.  Scratch that.  When is it ever a convenient time for your brain to unload out-of-context horror?

My soul is tired.  My body is exhausted.  My mind is weary.

Yesterday, I threw an adventure/pirate party for my 7-year-old daughter.  Including my 3 oldest, there were 14 kids here.  I think. Lucky for me, my 2-year-old was napping.  A few parents stayed.  A friend and her husband came to help.  My husband’s participation was on fleek.  My house was full.

I love my children fiercely.  So I asked my anxiety to hold it together while I facilitated the fun.

But I am tired.

I’m getting better at knowing when I’m going to need to recharge.  I’m more mindful of how decimated an interaction is going to leave me.  I’m learning to plan self-care into my life.

A few years ago I read The Shack.  My heart wept with recognition.  When the movie was announced, my heart exploded with anticipation.  As soon as I was able, I purchased a ticket to see it.  For a showing immediately following church.  The day after my daughter’s birthday party.

I need to tell you about church and me.  A majority of the abuse I endured as a child was religious in nature.  Clarification: it wore a Jesus hat.  “Christianity” was the tool that 2 broken and hurting people used on their offspring to make themselves feel less out of control.  They discharged their anguish onto their children in the name of God.

I struggle with church.  I struggle with the Bible.  Hear me out before you burn me at the stake.  The words, the phrases, the settings… Triggers.  A lot of the concepts, though far removed from how I grew up knowing them, look very similar outwardly to their rightful essence.  This is the danger.  While I am rewriting the real version in my heart and mind, there is an incredible amount of scar tissue there.  My mind is rejecting the transplant as it looks eerily familiar.  I’m constantly looking for new versions of the Bible.  Versions that I can read and hear God’s healing love pour over my soul like a soothing balm.  As of now, my all time favorite is The Jesus Storybook Bible.  I am not embarrassed to say that I own it in hardcover and audio forms.  And that when the crazy gets heavy, I hide in my minivan and listen.

So I stayed home by myself this morning.  While the rest of my heart drove away in my van.  They went to church without me because my soul needs some rest.  Church is hard for me.  Church is work.  I pray it is not always this way.  I hope some day to be edified without the complication of very conscious mindfulness exercises throughout the duration.   I long for the day when I can join in with the worship and the teaching without fighting a panic attack.  Someday maybe I will be able to hang after church to fellowship without being acutely aware of the crowd and scanning for exits.

Today is not that day.  Today I am where I am.  Jesus loves this me.  Jesus is fully invested in this me.

So I am going on a date with Jesus to see a movie.  That is my church today.  I am so looking forward to it.

But first I have to find a box of tissues.

Posted in Emberleigh, Food, Gifts, iLove, Insane in the Brain, Levi, Molly, Movies, Thanks for the memories, Vacation

‘basket-case’


The phrase should denote organization and the ability to compartmentalize.

Not so.

Just a bundle of crazy.  With a myriad of loose ends.

In other news, I took my 3 kids to see Cars 2 in Temecula by myself on opening day.  Wha?!  After parking in the new parking garage (it was being built when I was here in September), I discovered that it was not the parking lot being built in September, but another altogether.  I was hence forced to push a stroller carrying literally almost 100 lbs, several blocks to the more-than-massive theater.  I was not aware that the Promenade at Temecula now resembles Victoria Gardens.

Well, it does.

Aside from my son defiling his shorts to avoid a potty break, and the subsequent TJ Maxx purchase, it went off with nary a hitch.  My children want to marry Disney/Pixar.

yeah, right!
Darling Angels

I took this victory as encouragement.  A breakfast date with my kids at Mimi’s Cafe followed the next morning, during which time the small hellions made tremendous noise and had a delightful time devouring breakfast and several numerous sugar packets.  A dear diner informed me that I am doing a wonderful job as a mother.  How she gathered that, I will never know.  Maybe it was pity.  Maybe it was a prophecy of the future.

Despite the frazzlement, the weekend was a success.

Don’t ask me why.

I have mom hormones and they tell me odd things.

 

Miss Moo-face
Hi, Chubbs!
Posted in Family, Food, Movies, The Future, TV

survivors


Let’s face it.  A very little stands between our comfortable, complicated lives and a simple, brutal existence, foraging for our very survival.  Perhaps my frail mental state helps to blur the lines between reality and television, but with my capacity for abstract thought, I can surmise on the possible future resulting from current economic, social, and political trends.  It, my friends, is ugly.  Frightening.  And highly uncomfortable.

will you?
“SURVIVORS” on BBC

We are a soft, flabby, incapable, pansy society.  We may be well-trained in various fields of science and technology.  Worlds may rise and fall with pushes of buttons by our ultra-educated minds.  We have been raised and trained for greatness.  Our aim in life is mainly self fulfillment and outstanding success.  As a people group, we have amassed greater knowledge, expertise, and ambition than quantifiable.

And we are useless.

We enjoy our amenities to a fault.  In a world empty of what we today consider necessities, we would be lost.  At survival, we would not last at length.

In a warped response to various end of the world TV series and apocalypse genre movies, I have been considering what it would take to keep myself and those I love safe, healthy, and marginally comfortable.  The conclusion reached is that with the resources I have at my disposal, I would fare poorly.  However, with the resources I have at my disposal, I believe I can prepare myself to be capable.  I want to be able to provide fresh produce in some measure.  I want to be able to prepare food in less than desirable circumstances.  I want a house with a daggum basement!  O, that’s another post for another time.  Related, but other.

So far, this is what I have:

in case of societal collapse
my garden

Not much, but with expectations at little to none, I hope to not despair if I harvest nothing this year.  I have a tendency to kill green things inadvertently.  We shall see…

Hopefully what we see is lettuce, carrots, onions, broccoli, peas, beans, tomatoes, and various squash/melon type fruits.  Or a collection of 1, 2, or more of the aforementioned produce.

Or you will see me in a vegetative state due to a mental breakdown induced by my sheer inability to cope with failure.

Either way: vegetables happen.  It’s a win/win situation.

if all goes according to plan they will be
tomatoes
Posted in Emberleigh, Insane in the Brain, Levi, Molly, Movies, TV

Capital One


It never stays the same.  Usually there’s about a year’s worth of receipts, maybe a diaper and a bag of wet wipes, church bulletins… You get the picture.

It’s “What’s in your Bag?”

 

What's in your wallet?
What's in your wallet?

1. Wallet — If it’s fancy, maybe I can trick it into containing more money… just a thought.

2. Sony eReader — My mobile library ensconced in a red M-Edge executive case.  Again with the fancy trickery.

3. Ticket stubs from Rango — We took all 3 kids.  I think my brain fell out.  I know it did.  Wait, what do I know?  What does knowing mean?  Who am I again?

4. $1.03 in change — The kids stole the rest to feed their piggy bank.

5. Allergy eye drops — It’s springtime, people.

6. Beano — So there’ll be-no gas.

7. Benadryl — I am allergic to all but 15.678% of God’s creation.

8. Zyrtec  — *See #’s 5 & 7

9. Salted peanuts — For when the morning hates me.  And isn’t long enough.  Or I stayed up too late the night before gazing upon Dominic Purcell and Wentworth Miller.  O, and come to mama, Amaury Nolasco.  But only as Sucre…  Ahem…

10. Claritin-D — *See #’s 5, 7, & 8

11. Orbit gum — the only gum worth chewing (my children out for chewing)

12. iPod shuffle — I just now realized there are no headphones.  I am not dedicated to music. (hangs head in shame)

13. Abreva — for when life throws you that embarrassing strain of the herpes virus

14. Giant grocery receipt — My kids need to get a job.

15. Motorola i1 — We are so close, we even sleep together at night.  I think she needs a name. (suggestions?)

16. $2 Old Navy umbrella — I get excited when it rains so I can use it.  Isn’t it cute?  It jumped off the rack into my hands one day.  I couldn’t say no. (she also needs a name)

17. SoftLips — In case I run into a fantasy celebrity crush on my way home from work.

18. Cranberry ShineSensation lip gloss — *See #17

19. Reading glasses — Pregnancy destroys my eyes, then I feel so cute in them that I keep wearing them.  I’m desperate.  My eyes are my last desirable feature (*see #17)

20. Keys — House, Mazda3, and some others that I haven’t used in a while.

21. Spreadsheet for a work project — I don’t love myself enough.  Amen.

22. Keychain store bonus cards — *See #14

Posted in Blogging, Movies, Poemesque

inspired


“It’s called a lance!  Hello?!”

Name that movie…

 

 

Actually, it’s called haiku:

Bed is calling me

I’m too young to feel this old

Sam’s Club is to blame


Or this:

Receptionist me

Now I’m a flaming red-head

Like all the Weasleys

Posted in Mom, Movies, Thanks for the memories

Johnny & Jesus


I woke up with this in my head…

 

On a different note:

 

I’ve been thinking about insecurity.

Every human on this planet (maybe not those on other planets) is insecure to a degree or other.  Granted, some are plagued with it more, and some less.  At the same time, a number struggle with it in varying shades.  As in: fight, and desire to conquer.

It seems it springs from the innate desire to be loved, accepted, & cherished that resides in the DNA of homo sapiens.  The question of the hour:

“Am I struggling with insecurity, or am I insecure?”

Is it a human imperfection that I need victory over or a personal characteristic that I hide behind and claim as a part of me?  On any given day, I vacillate between these 2 stances.  When my mom, who loves me immensely, goes to a movie with her friend (or my sister) instead of with me, I have a choice.  I can be crushed and believe that she doesn’t want to be around me, or that she cares less for me.  Oooooor, I can be mature and recognize that we each have our own lives and that I am not the only person in her life who she loves.  This in no way affects her love for me.  Applying reason and rationale to the situation enables me to be secure in our relationship and to not tear myself apart from the inside over an imagined cessation of affection, or to act negatively towards whoever I happen to interact with next.

From observation of humanity at large, it appears to me that many interpersonal behaviors, both good and bad, stem from the measure of victory or defeat in this arena.  Bad behavior does not equal defeat.  Good behavior does not equal victory.  We can do good things for selfish reasons.  We can do terrible things with the right heart.  However, if we do not establish security for ourselves, the potential for irreparable damage to us and those we love is very much alive and well.

I may be taking this entirely out of context. (Galatians 6:2,5)  “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ… For each will have to bear his own load.” I am no good to myself or the people in my life if I am an emotional vacuum.

I have been fighting this battle for as long as I can remember.  I have surrendered to the villain at times, very dark times indeed.  I have at other times experienced the upper hand in the altercation.

By this:  (2 Corinthians 10:5) We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.” Which begs the question: “What does Jesus say?”  (1 John 4:18) There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”  (1 John 3:1) “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.”

It is very much a choice whether to struggle with insecurity, or to be an insecure person.

If God, Himself, loves me enough to sacrifice what is Dearest to Him, I am of incredible worth.

If I have a behavior that prevents people from enjoying or even tolerating my company, it is in my own best interest to change.  If I am broken, and this is causing me to hurt others, it stands to reason that I need to get better.

Everyone is not out to get me.

Everyone does not hate me.

I am not pathetic.  Well, maybe I am.

But the point is, I choose with every interaction whether I am a worthy individual with human tendencies or a worthless sack of crap.  I may feel like the latter, but feelings do not dictate truth.

I am not ashamed or embarrassed to say that I am getting counseling.  I want the broken places to heal.  I have chosen to do what it takes to get better so that I won’t pass the hurt on to my children.  We are all broken.  We all need help.  We all have a constant choice to make, not just for ourselves, but for those who love us, rely on us, and need us.

Posted in Insane in the Brain, Movies

Assurance


You are ok.
It's a no-brainer.

 

I’m allergic to cats and I work for a vet.

My head is full of snot.

Instead of brains.

I am safe from the zombies.

Amen.