Welcome to My World

Regardless of where we are, life comes at us. If we want to cherish the moments, they tend to pass us by faster than we can savor them. If we would rather skip a day, it seems to linger endlessly. But life is what it is, and we have to make the most of what we have and focus on the good aspects, large or small, to truly relish our life.

Friday, December 24, 2010

He's Coming to Town

The tree is up!  Ornaments hang from the boughs and a golden garland envelops the Frazier fur branches.  The scent of Christmas wafts through the air every time someone brushes up against the tree.  The only thing missing is the angel that sits above, watching the children below.  Soon enough, it will be placed on top, the gentle reminder of the very first Christmas over two thousand years ago.

Of course with my crew, I would be worried if something didn't happen.  Alas, we have had the playroom locked since last night as that is where I can wrap the presents, and have been doing so when I have the time.  I told the children not to go in there, and my darling pixie of a precocious sprite decided to jump ship on those orders.  She climbed on top of the dresser in the hallway and stretched out her body as far as it would go in order to unlock the chain on the door.  She hadn't done that in quite some time, so I thought we were safe.  Didn't I say that just yesterday?

So I was cleaning downstairs and went up because I heard nothing.  Now, mothers out there would understand what I mean by that.  It wasn't noisy; children weren't jumping on beds or hollering away.  It was still.  It was quiet.  It was too silent.  As I ascended the steps, I continued to hear nothing.  But when I got to the alcove, I saw through my peripheral view an unexpected light coming from the left.  It was only the kind of light that comes from the blessed sun.  The playroom is between the hallway and the aforementioned bringer of warmth and life.

The door was wide open and two children were playing in there.  Nyssa tried instantly to duck under the extra bed while Benjamin sat there contentedly playing with his Mr. Potato Head.  Excuse me; what I meant to say was that he was playing with the Mr. Potato Head that he had not yet been given, that had been in a shoebox ready to be wrapped.  It wasn't until I mentioned his name and he realized Nyssa was out of sight that he considered the fact that maybe he wasn't supposed to be in there.  He tried to scurry past me in his sudden thought of being caught.  I had mercy on him and let him go with a reminder to stay out of there until tomorrow.

Gabriela started fussing, so I turned to check on her.  She was ready for her nap, so I tended to her and lay her back in the crib.  When I returned to the scene of the crime, Nyssa was nowhere in sight, not even under the bed.  When I called to her in my most authoritative voice, I heard her scrambling through the hallway to the stairs.  To her credit, she was running to me, and not away from me.  She had already sneaked to the bottom of the stairs and to the family room while I was taking care of her sister.

When I asked Nyssa what she was thinking as she unlocked the forbidden room, I was taking her answer into consideration for her punishment.  What was her reply?  "I was thinking that maybe you couldn't see me," came the straightforward response.  Now.  Here she was, caught in the act, coming back to me of her own free will when I called her, and being completely honest with me.  The problem is that she knew what she was doing was wrong when she opened it, because her only thought was that she was hoping we wouldn't see her unlock the door!

She did receive her just desserts and was further informed that her actions allowed her brother to get to one of his Christmas presents.  It was one less surprise Benjamin would receive.  This did penetrate her heart and her eyes grew sad as she realized the implications of her disobedience.  She apologized both to me and Benjamin for leading him in the same path and was sent to her room for a while.

All in all, it was a learning experience for both of us.  Don't go into places that are locked and are forbidden.  Don't put Christmas presents in the play room, even if it has been locked.  Fortunately, Benjamin is contentedly playing with something else right now and will hopefully still be happy to receive the Potato Heads.  At least he didn't see the Missus.

Even now we find ourselves going out of our way to go places that we shouldn't, to unlock forbidden rooms, to play with forbidden toys.  When we realize we are in that situation, we have another choice, to stay and admit what we have done, or try to hide.  When we discover we have been found, we have yet another decision:  to try to talk our way out of the situation or to confess in full our reasoning and our actions and to apologize for those we have wronged.

Christmas is a time for love and peace.  It is a time to set aside selfishness and to embrace the spirit of giving and hope.  It is a magical moment in time that comes only once a year.  It is a season that we hold dear in our hearts.  It is one of the hardest times when loved ones have been lost, and one of the most joyful when they are found.  It can be filled with memories of delight and wonder, in spite of what we may have managed to get ourselves into only the day before.

After all, just think about it.  He knows when we've been sleeping.  He knows when we're awake.  He knows when we've been bad or good, so let's be good, for goodness' sake.  Let the glad tidings of Christmas shine down on you as brightly as the lights shine from the tree.  Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

Christmas pictures are all the fashion these days, and for a very good reason.  It gives you the chance to show the growth of your children to those loved ones who don't get to see them but once a year or even less often.  I had every intention of getting those pictures done so I could be a part of this trend with my family, but, alas, the time sneaked up on me, quiet as that mouse in 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.  Of course, I waited too long, especially for that special look I wanted my gang to have in their photo.

Nyssa hadn't picked up a pair of scissors to do damage to anything since this spring, and I really thought we had won this battle.  Well, we won the battle about not cutting her own hair, but apparently she did not think the ban on beauty shop extended to her siblings.  Sigh.  Nathaniel wouldn't let her near him with a pair of scissors.  He's too smart for that.  And, though Benjamin adores his big sister, he's too afraid of that.  So.  I give you one guess as to which child remains.

That's right.  My doppleganger had an unexpected and unplanned haircut.  It was just shy of a month since I gave her bangs because the hair in front of her face kept getting in her eyes.  But I thought the little curls on the back of her head were so cute.  They weren't tight little curls, but rather long, loose ones.  Her hair was straight until it got to the ends and then it curled under just a twist or two, and it was adorable!  I so wanted to get a picture of her with it but that kept getting put back because my phone was never charged when I thought about it.  So, alas, I have no picture of the way she was, toddling about looking like a little girl now instead of a tiny baby.


I had about 4 nasty bugs simultaneously that completely wiped me out from December 13 until a couple days ago.  They're not gone completely, but I am finally out of bed and able to take care of the kids again.  Evidently, my oldest daughter did not feel they were getting the attention they needed while I was on prescribed bed rest.  So, last weekend, when she wanted to talk to me and I wasn't available, she decided to  play in the hall as opposed to her room where, incidentally, she was supposed to be anyway as it was past her bedtime.

I heard crying on the stairs and discovered that Gabriela was there, not knowing which way to go.  But when I looked at her, something wasn't right.  Her bangs were shorter than they had been except for a few wisps.  That wasn't the only thing, though, for when I picked her up, I saw that almost all her curls in back were gone too.  I called Richard to look at her.  Our little one had regressed in age about 6 months, at least in her appearance.  I had to cut the rest of her hair to make it look somewhat even, though right on top of her head, she now had a small area that almost looked like an army buzz cut.

The fact that she sat still long enough for Nyssa to cut her hair is a miracle in and of itself, but the fact that she didn't get hurt at the young age of 15 months with a 6 year old at the helm with scissors is enough to prove to me that she has at least one guardian angel assigned to her at all times, maybe more.  She didn't cry, nor fuss, from what I heard, and she was only a room away.  But her precious hair was all over the hallway and bathroom floor in a couple little piles.  All that hair!  I could have bawled my eyes out!  I'm not above confessing that I did have a short cry, thinking not only of the hair, but of what could have happened to her if she had moved just the wrong way, especially after I saw the scissors I took from her sister.

So  Nyssa was punished, I eventually forgave her, though I confess it took a lot more time than usual for me to do so, and Gabriela has much shorter hair.  She's so tiny anyway that she really does look like she's only around 9 months old again.  It's vanity, I know, and it's not even my hair.  But, by golly, it was so pretty!  We even had it in pigtails several times recently.

Why do we think that when we don't get what we want we can do something we know is not right and still get what we wanted in the first place?  People get hurt or angry at us because we have acted unjustly, but we decide out of spite in a moment's notice that we are going to do something to get their attention.  And when we do, we wonder why they're so upset.  One of these days we have to learn that life is what it is, that it is not always going to treat us fairly, and that we have to act respectfully in spite of those childish impulses to act irresponsibly.

One of those days, that pair of "scissors" may turn out to be a deadly weapon instead of a mere expression of our frustration.   I shudder to think what could have happened if Gabriela had lost her balance and fallen toward the scissors or if she turned her head too quickly the wrong way.  We've all seen it.  A word unjustly and unfitly spoken out of spite, hurt, and anger can cause more damage than we could imagine.  I'm just glad it was something as irrelevant in the grand scheme of things as her hair that was taken away, because some things can't grow back; hair can.  But it may not be the same ever again.  After Nyssa's curls were cut the first time, they never came back.
Why do we think that when we don't get what we want we can do something we know is not right and still get what we wanted in the first place?  People get hurt or angry at us because we have acted unjustly, but we decide out of spite in a moment's notice that we are going to do something to get their attention.  And when we do, we wonder why they're so upset.  One of these days we have to learn that life is what it is, that it is not always going to treat us fairly, and that we have to act respectfully in spite of those childish impulses to act irresponsibly.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

I'm Dreaming of Starbucks Coffee

Sigh.  I've been home for almost a week now with a virus.  Strike that.  According to the blood work, I'm fighting off 4 different ones.  No wonder I've been so tired recently!  So I've been snoozing in the family room chairs by day, er, um.  I've been watching the kids in the family room by day, closing my eyes at intervals, while they watch videos.  Thankfully, I have had some help on the days I've had no more strength than to pull the covers back over me for some shut eye.  But today I really, really, really wanted to be feeling better.

See, about four of us gals get together every couple of months and go to the nearby Starbucks to have coffee, dessert, and chit chat.  The chit chat usually lasts around 4 hours, as it's our "Girls Day Out."  We catch up with the recent happenings and laugh and cry together, and have a genuinely fun time.  It helps me to stay grounded with life.  We're all in different phases of life, while all in the generally same age range, so it truly is an encouraging situation for all of us, I think.

Alas, I am staying home, about to go crawl back into bed, I think, after drinking another liter of Gatorade.  I know that tonight, I will have greatly missed the fellowship with my gal pals, but I think that for this moment, I am content.  I just want to sleep.  Maybe tomorrow I'll be better.  Until then, I'll dream of that order I would have made today:  a grande white chocolate peppermint mocha.  Mmm...delightful!

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

O Christmas Tree

Gearing up for the holidays can be a lot of work!  It can be grueling or it can be fun; the choice is up to us whether we choose to enjoy the process or get lost in the perfectionism of having everything just right.

The first two years we were married, I had the tree all decorated to the nines.  I had the glass orbs and pretty star decorations covering some of the lights.  Icicles and glass blown ornaments I placed on the tree galore.  It was beautiful, it was elegant; if I do say so myself, it almost looked like a professional had decorated it, albeit with the human flair.

Nyssa came along between the first and second Christmases and I learned my lesson that second year about decorating for Christmas with children.  Here are some tips I learned the hard way.  Never put breakable ornaments on the tree within reach of the children.  Every single one of them will end up broken.  Also, if you think you want to use icicles, don't!  And if you do choose to use them, make sure they are high out of reach of little arms, as well, and make sure no stray foil lands near the floor where little hands can get to them.   Cuts on tiny tongues and choking on the pretty silver is not worth the aesthetics of an icicle endowed tree.

From the next year on, it's been a gradual learning of how to decorate.  The third year, we brought out all the olive wood ornaments from our time in Jerusalem.  It was a very simple tree that year, as those were just about the only ornaments we hung.  We placed an angel tree topper that I had made,  lights, a little Victorian doll ornament hung higher up representing Nyssa, a glass Snowman couple ornament represent Richard and I also placed high, another ornament for Nathaniel who had come along, and those wooden ornaments made in the shapes of nativity scenes, angels, bells, stars, wise men, and shepherds.

The year Benjamin was born, we just continued doing the same thing, adding his little ornament and ornaments with our pictures on them.  It stayed simple.  Then next year Nyssa was old enough to color pictures of ornaments, which I cut out and hung on strings.  Finally, two years ago, we started making wooden snowflakes and paper plate wreaths.

Our tree is a hodgepodge of decorations.  It's covered with special individual ornaments for each of us, our picture ornaments, and whatever else we happen to make during the season.  We make popcorn and string it.  We even got some cranberries a couple years ago.  It's nothing fancy, but it is certainly homemade.  We can truly say there is not another one like it anywhere.  It is rustic simplicity, kind of like the very first Christmas.  It's a reminder of the love we have for one another, that we are each special, and that we have been blessed with one more year together as a family.  We don't need all the fancy doo dads.  We just need each other.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Multitasking

I can chew gum and walk at the same time.  I can do the laundry and wash the dishes at the same time.  But there are just situations in which I can't multitask.  Now I know it's cliche, yes, but nothing is cliche' without a bit of truth, I have friends who cannot chew gum and walk without tripping.  The key is in knowing what you can and cannot do simultaneously.

Sometimes getting into a situation can be much easier than getting out of it.  We walk along through life, humming along, and see something that looks interesting.  Though the activity in and of itself may be fine and dandy given the proper circumstances, it may not be appropriate to get involved at that time, no matter how fun it may seem.  We have to count the cost to see if it's really worth it or not.

Take Gabriela, my darling 15 month old toddler.  I can say that now, because she walks around the house like she owns it, with only a few trips along the way as she still occasionally entangles her feet with one another.  She loves getting into anything and everything, just like any other toddler.  But it's not good for her to have access to everything at this time.  Even the things she is allowed to play with most of the time can be inappropriate given certain instances.

This morning, she was toddling around while I was doing some straightening.  She had eaten an early lunch, as is usual, since she goes down to nap around noon, and was enjoying the freedom to walk for a few minutes.  I saw her playing with Benjamin's toy cars and thought it was so cute to watch her purse out her lips as she made "vrrrr" sounds.  Ok, so her noises were closer to "frrrrrrr" but she had the general idea.

I thought I saw something on the back of her hand and got a tissue.  She has a runny nose today, so I thought she had just rubbed her hand on her face.  As I drew closer to her, I noticed it didn't look like snot at all, but more like yellow grease.  That was when I saw the piece of bread next to her with the butter.  Then I saw the cars that were covered in butter.

Oh, did I mention that I allowed Benjamin to make himself a piece of bread and butter today?  No?  Ok, well, I let him do that.  But he didn't eat all the bread.  As he explained later, he had too much butter on his bread so he gave it to his baby sister.  Wasn't that so sweet of him?  Truly, it was.  He loves to share with her...most of the time, anyway.

Well, see, I didn't notice he had given her the bread and butter until I saw it on her hand, the car box, and on several Hot Wheels.  If they needed an oil change before, they sure didn't need one now!  It was not a big deal, really, for me to clean her up, but she was most unhappy about me taking the cars away from her.  She eventually calmed down after I washed them off and gave them back to her, and she lay down peacefully for her nap shortly thereafter.

Eating some bread and butter was fine.  Playing with little cars was fine.  But doing both at the same time proved to be most inconvenient for her.  Because she got butter in the cars, I had to interrupt her fun time to get both her and the toys cleaned up before it made a bigger mess on the carpet.

It's the same story as we get older.  We want to do too many things at once and end up mixing things that shouldn't be combined.  Because of our impatience, busyness, or mere thoughtlessness, we make a mess of things and end up having to take more time in the end than if we had just kept them separate to begin with.

I live in a world of perpetual multitasking.  Let's face it:  with kids, you multitask or nobody survives.  But even so, I live in a society that rewards multitasking and, sometimes, with things that shouldn't be combined.  Things like playing with cars and eating is resolved easily enough, but some situations can be downright dangerous.  Running is good for you.  Cutting paper with scissors is fine.  Running with sharp scissors is dangerous; you can trip and impale yourself.  Reading a book can be educational or mentally stimulating.  Driving to work is a necessity.  Reading a book while driving is dangerous and could kill a number of people.

To every thing there is a time and a purpose for everything under the heavens.  I cannot tell my children I love them and expect them to believe it if I am screaming bloody murder at them or completely ignoring them most of the day.  I can show them I love them by telling them and by expressing it through reading with them or playing with them.  I cannot teach them to use their time wisely if I'm bumming around on the couch watching movies and have no housework completed.  But they can learn to pick things up in the living room while a movie is going or to push pause in order to get some work accomplished.   Multitasking is not simply limited to the physical well being, but to the whole person's health.  I just want to make sure that when I do choose to multitask, I am taking all the circumstances into consideration so that not only I will remain safe, but so that I can positively impact others.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Tidal Waves

I know I've been silent the last week.  Every time I would go to write I found myself empty, with absolutely nothing left to say.  Life has been rough lately, so very tough, and I found myself hanging on a precipice.  My dear beloved has been wonderful, but we all know there are some battles that we have to go through that are painful, even when we have the support of our loved ones.

I've been tired.  I've been worn. And every attempt to make silver linings were futile.  I looked at life as I knew it and i just wanted to stop.  I didn't want to stop living; I just wanted to push the pause button and get off for a bit.  I just wanted to go away for a year or a week even, just by myself so I could slow down and catch my breath.

But we don't always get that privilege.  We can't always afford to get off the roller coaster just because it's going too fast or too loud for our comfort.  No, once the ride has begun, we're in it for the long haul, until the end.  Sometimes we just want to scream at the top of our lungs to get off, but there's no stopping in the middle of that ride.

The kids have been tough; I've been unable to sleep.  Last Saturday afternoon, I found myself in the boys' room screaming at Nathaniel.  I was so weary, tired and frustrated with him because he was in one of his stubborn moods, and I was in no mood for his attitude.  So I found myself yelling at him over and over to pick up the same three pieces of toy food that he refused to get.

Then I saw his face.  And I saw Benjamin's face.  And I was horrified.  I ran downstairs and clenched my fists, my teeth, my face.  I was frustrated with them, yes, but ever so much more I was furious with myself for my own behavior toward my son.  I saw this monster that frightened me and I wanted it to go back to the pit of darkness from whence it seemed to rise.

This happened just as the babysitter had just arrived and as my husband had come home from work.  We were going out on a date night and it was none too soon.  I cried; I broke down.  I forced myself to calm down, and when I was calm enough, I went up to my sons' room with tears on my face.  I apologized to Nathaniel and to Benjamin for yelling.  I hugged them and held them for a few minutes.  They hugged me back and, wonder of wonders, they forgave me.

We went out, my husband and I, and I finally returned to some semblance of sanity.  We enjoyed dinner at Taco Mac and walked around in a used bookstore, enjoying the solitude of one another's company.  When we arrived home 5 hours later, I thought all was well...for about 3 minutes.  Nathaniel woke up crying.  My first thought was,"Oh God, can I just get out of here?"  And I was grieved beyond measure for the thought I had.

The next morning was just as hard and it took all I had to not yell and scream at the children.  I left my children safely in the nursery while I was off in another room.  I found myself in a place I had not allowed myself to go for a long while.  I let it all out for the first time in a very long time; not just bits and pieces, but everything.

But I wasn't alone.  Those that know me realize I don't just let go in front of anyone.  But it was time.  It was time to let out all the frustration, all the anger, all the despair and disappointment, time to let go of the hopeless feelings of the situation I was in.  I let out the distrust and the pretense of wanting perfectionism in an impossible manner with any child, let alone autistic children.

And I was surrounded and held up not only figuratively, but literally by 3 people who just loved on me.  I cried until I thought there was nothing left.  Then I was hit by another wave.  Unbelievably, this went on for 2 hours as I tried mentally to stand only to be washed back yet again by more.  Still, my rock was there.  One simply held me as I sat on the couch.  Another sang to me every so often, and yet another just spoke words of truth and comfort, combating the condemning thoughts and lies that had been pounding me down.

Every time it entered my mind that I just needed to buck up and get on with it, someone read my thoughts.  "There's no hurry.  We don't have to go anywhere until you're ready."  They were simple words, really, but to one who has been there, they were the most profound words of life, reassurance, and comfort.  It was a supernatural strength which held me.  It was a supernatural gentleness that covered me, and it was a supernatural peace that finally came to rest over me when all the tears were shed and all my doubts, fears, and confessions had been expressed.

I open myself to you about this because once again, I realize that I am not the only one who experiences the drive to shove all the negative down deep inside.  I am not the only one who has been hurt by life's circumstances, and sometimes by those of my own making.  So many are wounded soldiers who need to be held and comforted.

We all need that.  We all need that safe harbor to which we can run when we are being grounded to a pulp by life.  We all need those who hold us, who speak lovingly, without condemnation.  We all need to be surrounded by those who will stand shoulder to shoulder around us, protecting us from the roaring lions that would seek to destroy us.  We need the covering until we are healed so that, once we are strong again, we can join the circle and protect someone else who is hurting.  Even those who have been hurt so badly they think they don't want it need it, and perhaps they need it most of all.  All of us ~ we don't just want it; we NEED it.

Because not one person on this earth has it all perfectly together.  We need each other.  It is in numbers that we can help one another overcome the seemingly impossibilities in life.  And we need to help each other remember that which is good.  We all need to be reminded that we are loved, warts and all, unconditionally; that if there is any ought in us we can be forgiven; that grace abounds for us for any situation we face, and that mercies are new with each and every morning.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Same Song Different Tune

 This is often called the most wonderful time of the year.  It is the season to be jolly, to roast chestnuts on an open fire.  The time for thinking of presents and spreading good cheer is here.  It's a time when children pay extra attention to whether they've been naughty or nice.  Christmas time is here!  It's a time to make snowmen and snow angels...at least in the Northern Hemisphere.

North and South agree in principle that this is a season to celebrate joy and life, family, love, and hope.  It is a time to show our love for one another in concrete, tangible gifts.  We have that love all the year round, but for some reason, this is a special time to show it.  We place thought into the presents we make or purchase for our loved ones, because we want them to know they are important to us and how much we truly care about them.

Something's been nagging at me lately, though.  Perhaps it's because I've developed friendships with people in other countries.  And it's an interesting thought, if you stop to consider it.  People all over the globe celebrate Christmas, in both hemispheres, but it's different.  Take Australia for instance.  Christmas there may be spent on the beach with family and friends.  They may be roasting marshmallows in an evening campfire on a hot summer's evening instead of inside a cold winter's house with hot cocoa.  They may be surfing in the water instead of making those snow angels and having snowball fights.  I don't know the exact celebrations one would have with a summer's Christmas, but I know they vary greatly from the scene I always imagine when I consider the once a year celebration of that holy, Silent Night.

The overall message of "Peace on earth and good will toward man" is the same, but because we come from different locations we make different traditions surrounding the holiday.  In like manner, the story behind Christmas is different in the hearts of people because we see it from different points of view.  Those of us who do celebrate the season do so in different ways.  Some celebrate the life of St. Nicholas, who made toys for the poor and needy children, otherwise known as Santa Claus, Sinterklass, or Father Christmas.  Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus the Christ, the Savior of the world, the most selfless gift of all, after whom the word Christmas is derived...the birth of the Christ.

Some combine the two, blending the message of unexpected treasures from someone invisible yet ever present.  Behind Christmas is the message that there is someone miraculous, invisible to us who sees us at all times.  Though we can't travel to his domain, he meets us where we are, whether coming down the chimney or just sitting by the fire eating our milk and cookies.  Someone is aware of our thoughts and our actions and will reward us for them.  Perhaps that is one of the great mysteries of Christmas:  it makes us take stock of our actions because it causes us to consider others before ourselves.  It's possibly the closest thing to unity we as humankind share.  That is what is behind the heart of the season.  We give for the sheer joy of giving; we want to have a time where merriment and song is in the air, lifting our hearts with encouragement, and that in and of itself spreads the cheer, the love, and the giving freely of ourselves, regardless of where we come from or where we are.  Regardless of the melody, the message is the same:  Joy to the World!