He has been attacking me ferociously again, that green eyed Pride Monster. My husband was up for a big raise at the beginning of the year and that got me ruminating. Ruminating for me is never good. I move from ruminating to fixating to obsessing very quickly. I started ruminating about selling our current home and buying a newer, bigger house. My husband calls it a "Big A house". I even had a real estate agent friend come over and do the appraisal and tell me what to fix-up in order to be ready to sell. I have been cleaning and organizing. I started calling lenders. And I started browsing. Oh no, browsing is another thing that is not good for me. Browsing feeds the fixation and speeds up the progression to obsession. I quickly moved from looking at the slightly larger homes with 2 car garages to really big houses with 3-4 car garages. I was getting way over my head.
Ever since I started down that path I have been anxious, and stressing over the cleaning, the financing, and being ready for the spring market. I became horribly sick over Christmas with flu and then pneumonia. Since Christmas was have had bout after bout of sickness running through our house. The end result being that I became even more anxious, stressed, and frustrated that I couldn't do all that I felt like I needed to do in order to have our home ready to sell.
As I moved along this path I kept praying, "This is what I want but Thy will be done." But I didn't really mean it. I wanted that Big A house and I was working to get it. Have you ever played Mario Kart? You know when you are driving the wrong way and that little guy pops up with the Reverse Sign and the warning sound? We he was right in my face with his sign blaring his little horn and I couldn't or didn't want to see it.
My husband who kind of humored me along in the process, probably just because he was loving that I was organizing, started saying things like "I just feel like we need to stay here" and "I just feel like there is still a job for us to do here" and I would nod my head and bulldoze on. Until finally I just could not get those square pegs to fit into the round holes and no part of my plan was working. Then I started really listening to my husband saying, "This won't work for us right now" and "We need to focus on XYZ instead." After some crying and whining I finally said, "OK, we will stay here." And at that moment, all of the stress and anxiety that had been building for months disappeared immediately.
God answers our prayers. He knows each of us and has a plan for us. If we are willing to submit to His will, He will direct our lives and use us to bring about his works. I don't know what work he has for me here right now, but I am going to change my focus to find out and be humble enough to let Him use me for it.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
A Four Cow Mom in an Eight Cow Culture
In the Legend of Johnny Lingo, Mahana's suitor and father barter for her bride price. The women of the village sit around and compare how many cows their respective husband's had to pay for them. The wife who was bought for 1 or 2 cows feels ashamed and diminished as other wives proudly proclaim that they were bought for 4 or 5 cows. "Not for my Mahana," Johnyy Lingo says later in the film. Johnny stuns the father, Mahana, and the entire village by offering eight cows for Mahana. This show of her worth transforms Mahana from frazzled loner to beautiful Polynesian woman.
In Mormon culture, not Mormon doctrine, I get the sense that the value of a woman comes from how many children she has born and raised. Listen to the introduction of the next speaker at a Relief Society Conference or read the bios in the Church News of mission presidents and their wives. Elder So-and-So is an accomplished attorney, he and his wife are the parents of 6, 7,or 8 children. Where are the parents of 2 or 3 children. ( I do admit that the Pres Monsons (3) and Elder Bednars (3) do exist, but they feel vastly outnumbered by the Elder Scottss (7) and Elder Nelsons (10) not to mention stake president's, bishops, etc.) In the Western US region of Mormondom, six children seems to be the magic number for the perfect mormon mom while mothers who have born 7 or 8 achieve an almost reverence for their mothering skills.
I freely admit that I am jealous. I have (only) four "jewels to adorn my heavenly crown". Seriously, whoever thought up that analogy was incredibly insensitive. The number of children that a couple has is between them and the Lord, Who knows what circumstances may exist in their life. Elder Bednar wrote an article in the April 2012 Ensign entitled "The Atonement and the Journey of Mortality". In it he briefly described Sister Bednar as "a remarkably faithful and competent woman" whom he watched "persevere through intense and continuous morning sickness - literally all day every day for eight months - through each of her three pregnancies." I wept as I read of Elder and Sister Bednar praying that this challenge would be removed, but it wasn't. I felt such a kinship with a woman I have never met but with whom I can relate on a most physical level. During each of my four pregnancies I have suffered from such intense "morning sickness" or hyperemesis gravidarum. Luckily for me the sickness lasts only the first 20 weeks or pregnancy and with my last two was greatly tempered by the miracle drug Zofran. Whenever I hear someone say, 'Oh, I love being pregnant, I never feel better' or 'I never got sick once, just a little tired' I want to punch that woman in the throat. For I vividly remember the nausea so overpowering that I could not get off the bed or couch, vomiting so severe that my throat was raw and swollen, my vocal chords burned from stomach acid so that I lost my voice, the extreme weight loss, and feelings of helplessness to care for myself, my husband or my other children. And yet, my heart still longs for more babies but neither my body nor my family can willfully sign up for another one.
Well meaning but hurtful comments like "Oh, you will have another one" or elbarorating on the joys of having six children cut into the heart of this four cow mom. So when I sit on my pew wrangling my four little ones, while my husband sits up on the stand, I am haunted by the thought that the worth of a Mormon mom is counted by the number of her children. And that with only four, perhaps I am found wanting.
In Mormon culture, not Mormon doctrine, I get the sense that the value of a woman comes from how many children she has born and raised. Listen to the introduction of the next speaker at a Relief Society Conference or read the bios in the Church News of mission presidents and their wives. Elder So-and-So is an accomplished attorney, he and his wife are the parents of 6, 7,or 8 children. Where are the parents of 2 or 3 children. ( I do admit that the Pres Monsons (3) and Elder Bednars (3) do exist, but they feel vastly outnumbered by the Elder Scottss (7) and Elder Nelsons (10) not to mention stake president's, bishops, etc.) In the Western US region of Mormondom, six children seems to be the magic number for the perfect mormon mom while mothers who have born 7 or 8 achieve an almost reverence for their mothering skills.
I freely admit that I am jealous. I have (only) four "jewels to adorn my heavenly crown". Seriously, whoever thought up that analogy was incredibly insensitive. The number of children that a couple has is between them and the Lord, Who knows what circumstances may exist in their life. Elder Bednar wrote an article in the April 2012 Ensign entitled "The Atonement and the Journey of Mortality". In it he briefly described Sister Bednar as "a remarkably faithful and competent woman" whom he watched "persevere through intense and continuous morning sickness - literally all day every day for eight months - through each of her three pregnancies." I wept as I read of Elder and Sister Bednar praying that this challenge would be removed, but it wasn't. I felt such a kinship with a woman I have never met but with whom I can relate on a most physical level. During each of my four pregnancies I have suffered from such intense "morning sickness" or hyperemesis gravidarum. Luckily for me the sickness lasts only the first 20 weeks or pregnancy and with my last two was greatly tempered by the miracle drug Zofran. Whenever I hear someone say, 'Oh, I love being pregnant, I never feel better' or 'I never got sick once, just a little tired' I want to punch that woman in the throat. For I vividly remember the nausea so overpowering that I could not get off the bed or couch, vomiting so severe that my throat was raw and swollen, my vocal chords burned from stomach acid so that I lost my voice, the extreme weight loss, and feelings of helplessness to care for myself, my husband or my other children. And yet, my heart still longs for more babies but neither my body nor my family can willfully sign up for another one.
Well meaning but hurtful comments like "Oh, you will have another one" or elbarorating on the joys of having six children cut into the heart of this four cow mom. So when I sit on my pew wrangling my four little ones, while my husband sits up on the stand, I am haunted by the thought that the worth of a Mormon mom is counted by the number of her children. And that with only four, perhaps I am found wanting.
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Definition of Insanity
There is this funny little quote going around on Facebook about "if the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, then why do I clean?" That sums up my mental quandry most days of the week. A lot of the time I find myself overwhelmed and despairing about the piles of things that I "need" to do and the tiny amount of time that I seem to find to do them in. ( And yet I am blogging about it, the definition of irony.) The lion's share of my day is cleaning, washing dishes, sweeping floors, doing laundry, making 3 meals a day plus snacks, grocery and household shopping, and running my kids around to their activities. I despair because I reflect on all of that work and it's unending nature and think "Is this worth anything?" Even though I do it all today, tomorrow I just wake up and do it all over again with no visible progress or results for all of the hours of work that I do. "Does what I do make a difference?" I am an educated, intelligent woman and often I think "Why, what is the point?" I could hire a nanny and a housekeeper who would probably do a better job at all of that than I do.
But then Saturday at the bookstore I picked up Jane Clayson Johnson's book "I Am A Mother" on a whim out of the clearance stack. I put it in my bathroom for a few stolen minutes of reading each day. Of course the first few pages had me crying. I know in my heart that what I do matters, but a lot of the time my head doesn't seem to remember. Hopefully this book will help me find the joy and sense of purpose in my mothering that I feel to be lacking so often.
But then Saturday at the bookstore I picked up Jane Clayson Johnson's book "I Am A Mother" on a whim out of the clearance stack. I put it in my bathroom for a few stolen minutes of reading each day. Of course the first few pages had me crying. I know in my heart that what I do matters, but a lot of the time my head doesn't seem to remember. Hopefully this book will help me find the joy and sense of purpose in my mothering that I feel to be lacking so often.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Being Frugal is NOT so Fabulous
I'm tired of it, or maybe just a little bit grumpy. But being frugal is NOT fabulous. Especially since the hit of the recession blogs, magazines, TV shows and all types of media are about couponing, living frugally, da da da da, ad nauseum. Being frugal is suddenly chic, but guess what, it is NOT FUN. I have been living frugally my whole life, out of necessity not coolness, and I am so tired of the new emphasis on it. My husband and I are raising 4 kids on one self employed paying taxes, no benefits income. I clothe my kids in big box store clothes, clearance finds, and super online deals which then get put into the box and passed down to the next child. I cook from scratch and couponed even when it wasn't cool. The last month wasn't a good one for coupons on the items I buy each month so at checkout at Walmart today I felt burdened by the guilt of only having 4 coupons and having to pay full price for many of the items I usually have coupons for. We have a little debt from school loans and one mini-van payment that we are trying to pay down. We live in a modest 4 bedroom house with a one car garage. My husband drives a 17 year old car that we have owned for 12 of those years. We save for retirement and emergencies, don't carry any credit card debt, and pay our own way through everything. But it is not fun. Some days I want a big, new house with a big mortgage payment that I can't pay. I want big new furniture to fill it instead of the repurposed slipcovered couches I have now. I want to decorate it with kitsch from fancy stores and big fluffy pillows. I want my hardworking husband to get to drive a fancy new car or truck. I want to fix up my basement so it looks like a living room not granny's attic cast offs, go out to dinner on a date other than my anniversary, see a movie in the theater, and buy $100 bling butt jeans for myself and my daughter. I don't want to feel like I am a "less than" compared to others. Everywhere I look it seems like everyone I know has a bigger house, nicer clothes, newer car, better vacation than we do. If we are doing everything the "right way" why don't I feel the blessings financially. Why do I feel that trying to live a righteous life should be rewarded with financial blessings? And I totally recognize that this is wholly ungrateful, prideful thinking. I guess the question is... How do I turn my attitude around?
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