Sunday, October 19, 2014

Day 503


Oct. 19, 2014
Day 503
Sunday night...and the blues are kicking in.  So, what's better than a depressed person with a blog?!  My poor readers.
It's been a harder weekend.  David had major allergy problems at church this morning.  I got him drugged up (which is no easy feat - he once heard of someone dying from accidentally overdosing on OTC meds and he's scared to take a single aspirin as a result) and he was fine by late this afternoon.  I told him if he didn't feel up to going to church tonight that was fine.  I kind of hoped he'd say he wanted to stay home because then we'd just all stay home with him.  But he said he felt fine after napping but wasn't totally gung ho on going tonight so if I wanted to stay home he was fine with that.
I was tempted. 
It was never this way when Paul was alive.  If the doors to church were open and we weren't throwing up, we were there.  There was no thinking about it.
And I've still been faithful.  For the most part I've wanted to be.  My church continues to be my major source of support and socialization.  But there are sometimes, like tonight, when I just feel - meh.  I look around my messy house and think of all I could accomplish instead of sitting in church and I think my time might be better spent at home.  And sometimes it is.  But we went tonight, anyway.  Next Sun. night we have an activity that will make us unable to go, so I figured we should probably go now.  This is where I'm supposed to write about the tremendous blessing we received at church and how I'm so thankful I went.
Yeah, not so much tonight.  Nothing bad happened, other than having to chase Ellie down the main aisle after church and whacking my knee on a pew as I did so.  But I didn't come away all the refreshed, either.  I guess that's the way it goes sometimes.
Maybe it's because of the birthday card I had the kids sign tonight when we got home.  Paul's mom's birthday is Tues.  I always said I had the best mother-in-law in the world and honestly loved her.  My heart is broken over her belief that I am responsible for Paul's death.  Just shattered.  I didn't even know if I was going to get a card or not this year.  I finally did, but just had the kids sign it.  I'm not sure really why I'm sending it, even.  I don't think it will change things and that's not my motivation, anyway.  But I still love her.
Even though...
Ellie has been difficult again today.  I find myself observing her and wanting to find some sort of brain dysfunction in her that would explain her terrible behavior.  She got ahold of another knife today.  Fortunately, Lizzie caught her and alerted Ben, who took it away before any damage could be done.  I texted Will and said, "I thought you hid your knives?"  He said he has too many to hide them all.  What, is he forming some anti-government militia?  He doesn't even make sense.  My mom had suggested I get a hook and I latch for his door and that's what's happening tomorrow. 
I had several more incidents this week of Ellie coloring on the furniture in her room.  This morning Lizzie put on her tights for church and we discovered that those had been scribbled on, as well!  Seriously!  What is wrong with Ellie?
I've never been a big fan of preschool for children, thinking that it is more important that they spend as many moments in those formative years with their mother.  Truly, there is nothing taught in a preschool setting that cannot be learned at home.  But right now - I've got plans to check into the preschool program at the school for next fall.  I need a break from this child, even if it's just a couple of mornings a week.  But next fall is a long time away.  I've got to survive Ellie right now.
And I just don't get it.  Ben was a difficult preschooler.  But he was brain-damaged, so I was able to chalk up most of what I was experiencing to that, even though we didn't know it was autism at the time.  While he seemed to have a death wish he was hampered by his cp.  We still made an awful lot of trips to the ER, though, as I recall.  Any of Lizzie's behaviors - and there have been many - I can attribute to her early years of chaos and being separated from her birth family.
But what's wrong with Ellie?  Except for a three day period at the age of 10 months, she never lived with her birth mother.  She doesn't know her older bio brothers, she escaped a lot of what Lizzie did not.  So why is she so awful, then?
Maybe all it is is that she's a 3 year old girl.  It could just be that simple.  A year or two from now I may re-read this and laugh (with a great deal of thanksgiving that this is in the past).  As I recall, Lizzie wasn't exactly a picnic at 3, either.  But that's when I got her.  Maybe this is normal.  But if so - why would anyone voluntarily give birth to more than one female child? 
Sam got new glasses Wed. night.  They're cute - copper metal, rectangle frames.  My friend, Diane, who made them had these particular frames shipped to her in some sort of promotion last winter.  I went ahead and bought them then, knowing that at some point Sam would need new glasses.  She's hung onto them ever since.  He got his new prescription and she had them made up for me within 3 days.  That was Wednesday.
Yesterday - Saturday - Sam went for a bike ride with David and Ellie.  Being full of brotherly concern, David brought Sam's sunglasses to him before they set out and Sam jammed his new glasses into the pocket of his sweats.  When he came home, they were gone. 
I think my middle name must be "Frustration" because it is definitely my overriding emotion most of the time.  Seriously - he lost his $80 glasses THREE days after getting them?  Not that I'm surprised.  I have found his glasses on floors, under blankets, behind his toy shelves,  under the swingset, on the dirt pile, out on the deck, beside the pool...
I looked for a little bit, but I had to leave for a Sunday School class gathering.  David and Sam looked, but didn't have much success.  I prayed about it.  I mentioned my frustration to my friends at the gathering last night.  I was so touched this morning when one told me she had prayed about it last night for me!
I got home last night and found a pile of money on my desk with a note from David saying, "Buy Sam some new glasses."  Sweet kid.  I gave him his money back.
This morning I asked Sam if he had prayed about finding his glasses yet.  He looked surprised and said, "Well, I haven't had lunch yet!"  I've come to gather recently from other comments he's made that he seems to think praying can only happen at meal times.  I really need to rectify this belief he apparently has. One of these days.  When I'm not so busy...keeping a certain 3 year old alive.
So, after lunch I got the girls down for their nap and David, Sam, and I set off to follow the path of yesterday's bike ride.  It was a long ride!  I found myself praying off and on and as we turned to go back home, I found myself really getting irritated with God.  He heard my prayer.  He knew what it would mean, financially, to have to buy this kid another pair of glasses.  Why wouldn't He just SHOW me where those glasses were?  At that very  moment a gust of wind blew up and I imagined that I heard God's voice speaking to my heart. 
So on the way back to the house, shuffling through the leaves, hoping against hope, one of us would yet see the glasses David and I had a conversation about my frustration with God.  I can't even remember now what all was said, but it was one of those "good" talks.  
And maybe that was the whole point of this experience.
A few feet later and we were home.  I was resigned to having to buy another pair of glasses and to learning the lessons that God seemed to think I needed from this.   And then Sam exclaimed,
"Oh, here they are!"  And there they were - laying on the ground right up next to the wood pile.
Thank you, Lord.
One other frustration (aren't I just Susie Sunshine tonight?).  Someone thought it was a good idea to give my kids art crayons - like the oil based ones.  They have loved them and have colored picture after picture with those things.  We've never had them before and I didn't think too much about them.  I was straightening up the area rug in the living room late yesterday afternoon (actually while David and Sam were out looking for the lost glasses the first time) when I discovered a huge green mess to the side of the rug.  Apparently one of those crayons got underneath the rug and then was vacuumed over and is permanently imbedded in my 10 month old carpet.
Well, now I know that I will always have an area rug in my living room because that green stain isn't coming up.  I used a magic eraser on it, I shampooed it, I used Dawn detergent on it,  I made a vinegar/baking soda mixture and it is still green.  It's lighter but still, quite green.  I am going to try some mineral spirits since I am guessing the crayon was oil based.  I had the kids throw away all the other crayons like that one.
I think there's a lot to be said for never having children. 
But then, you wouldn't laugh as much.  This morning David commented to me that he was suspicious Sam was not brushing his teeth because whenever he's been going into the bathroom to do his at night, Sam's brush is always dry.  So I said to Sam, "You are brushing your teeth every night, right?"
Sam seriously replied, "Mom, I just don't have time for tooth brushing!"  I hate to think how long it's been since the last time he thought he had time for it.
I've put on weight in the last 6 months or so.  It's annoying because none of my pants fit and I have this roll of tummy now that doesn't have anywhere to go so it flops.  I'm not comfortable in my own body anymore.  I remember a few years ago I couldn't keep weight on and now I've got the opposite problem.
I don't like it but the thought of laying off the sweets and maybe going for a few walks doesn't sound all that appealing, either.  Besides, don't most women put on weight as they age?  So maybe, no matter how hard I try, it won't come off because it's more of an age thing.  So then, what's the point of putting in all that effort and self-denial if I'm just destined to be a bit overweight the rest of my life?
But then, I get in the shower and see that my thighs, who have always lived very separate lives, are now quite cozy with eachother and I hate the feeling of them touching eachother.  So, I bought some grapefruit essential oil.  It's supposed to be good for weight loss.  We shall see.
Lizzie observed me taking it this morning and wanted to know why.  I told her and she said, "Well, Mom, if you want to lose weight, all you need to do is quit eating!"
She may be onto something there.  She then added I should probably also "run for 40 hours a day." 
So last night was our Sunday School class get together.  They're doing these once a month now, which is fine.  Our class is geared toward younger families, or at least those with younger children.  I've got those so I'm still qualified to be there, I guess.
I'm actually not even attending the class right now because they're doing a marriage study.  I sit upstairs with the old people.  It stinks.  I would give anything to have a reason to be sitting in that marriage class.
Back to the get-together: I saw this as sort of a "test" for me.  How would I handle being in a situation with all couples?  Could I do it?  Everyone is still so nice to me, but things have changed because I'm not part of a twosome anymore.  I even am a lot more self-conscious about talking with married men now.  I never used to think twice about it. 
So I slipped away for a few hours and went to the gathering.  We roasted hotdogs at a home in the country and then sat around the fire.  Some of the women made a real point to talk to me and I appreciated that.  But I looked around the fire a few times and saw all these couples, with their arms around eachother because it was cold and dark and I suppose, somewhat romantic, and I felt so alone.  I honestly didn't begrudge anyone there for what they still have, but it made me miss what I've lost all the more.
But this is my reality now.  I have to learn how to function as a single in couple-oriented world.  I don't know if the fact that I have children like most couples do makes it harder or easier.  I haven't decided that yet.
Along with everything else I've had to learn to do, this is another area in which I have to learn some coping skills.  But, there is a verse that keeps popping into my head lately.
So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten...
Joel 2:25
I think this verse is literally referring to food, but all Scripture is profitable and there must be a reason this particular one keeps being brought to my mind.  Is God using this verse to assure me that these years of loneliness and barrenness will be restored someday?
Maybe.  I don't know. 
But it's kind of the message I got from Him today when I hunting for Sam's glasses.  There was that along with the reminder that ALL things are for my good and profit my growth.
And mostly, just the reminder that my  number one job is, still, to trust Him.
With my stubborn and destructive three year old.
With my absent-minded almost-seven year old.
With my future.


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