Big Rocks and the Art of Manliness

For the last few weeks, I've been rather distant from Mr. B.  I'm sure I could blame it on working three nights a week, or having a 3 month old, or Mr. B's work schedule (which I greatly dislike).  But I've been grumpy and distant, either way.  The other day, he was practically begging for attention.  I felt terrible for ignoring him.  We've been talking a lot lately about what makes us happy and what we do that takes up time but gives us no happiness at all.  We ended up stumbling upon this video from The Art of Manliness called Big Rocks. 

 

I'd always heard the story about filling a jar with rocks, and how much more you could fit in by putting the big rocks in first.  But for some reason, this video stuck with us.  We started a list of our rocks (priorities): big, gravel, sand, and water.

Big Rocks

Family Meals and Rituals

Exercise

Quality Time for Me and Mr. B

Garden

Mr. B’s Work

Gravel

Clean House

Tutoring

Time with Extended Family
Implementing Homesteading Projects

Sand

Researching Homesteading Projects

Blogging

Water

Brainstorming Homesteading Projects (i.e. randomly browsing the web for ideas)

Facebook

Television 

We also decided to start waking up earlier.  In Mr. B's case, he's already up and out early.  But I wake up between 6 and 8 am, the former if I don't sleep after nursing, the latter if I go back down for some more time.  I knew but never admitted that on days I woke up at 6, I was much happier and energetic.  So I'm committing to waking up at that last early morning feeding so that I can do the things I want to do without the kids around.  If I plan for the big rocks during the bulk of the day, I can get my gravel and sand out of the way in the early morning, and I'm a much happier mama for it.

Recharging and Appreciating My Family

My mom had knee surgery a week ago Monday.  She lives about 45 minutes away, so I don't get to see her every week, but I do see her frequently.  We had a pediatrician appointment halfway between our houses yesterday, so we went to visit.  She was out, so we beat her there by about half an hour.

Before my mom got home, I was on my last nerve.  Miss F had a very pooey diaper, so I was trying to change her.  But no amount of bargaining was making this diaper go well.  Miss F was arching her back, stomping her feet, trying to roll over, and driving me nuts.  I threatened her (we'll leave before Grammy gets here), begged her (PLEASE just stop moving), and generally griped at her.  I got her diaper on, then had to go wash it out.  My mom's water pressure is atrocious, so it took me ten minutes to wash it out.

Meanwhile, Miss C is screaming.  I kept asking Miss F to give her a pacifier, but she was busy getting into things.  When I came out of the bathroom, she was trying to use pliers on my mom's dog.  Thankfully, she was just opening and closing the pliers near the dog and did no harm.  One kid screaming, one kid getting into trouble, and I was fried.  I hated all the yelling and pleading and threatening, and I knew it wasn't working.  When my mom came home, everything had *just* calmed down.  I was about to lose it.  So Grammy, eight days post surgery, and Nana (my grandmother) decided to have Miss F stay the night with them.

Last night, Mr. B and I used the time to get some canning done and it was past Miss F's bedtime by the time I got off of work anyway, so we didn't really notice the difference.  This morning, though, was a totally different story.  I've had time to think about how our family's been living the last five weeks or so.  I know I've been really snarky with Mr. B, even though I know it's not right.  To some extent, I feel like he's been too sensitive, and in some ways, I know that my "jokes" are cheap shots for no reason.  I have no idea why I've been behaving the way I have, except maybe hormones and stress.

So I've taken this morning with Miss C to really appreciate her this morning and to think about how life has been since her birth.   She was wide awake and pretty darn happy.  Usually when she's like this, I don't notice because I'm too busy dealing with Miss F or working on housework.  This has to change.

So I'm going to try a project.  I love projects if you haven't noticed.  I need to appreciate my family more and communicate what I need and want more often.  Every day, I'm going to make it a point to tell Mr. B that I appreciate something he's doing.  He does SO MUCH for us.  I'm so lucky to have him.  He never complains about being asked to do something - changing a baby, washing dishes or diapers, cleaning, he does it all.  We believe that if we both try to give 100%, then we'll end up somewhere 50/50. 

I'm also going to spend some one-on-one time with Miss F while working on being present.  I need to stop worrying about things I need to do, I won't put her off for the baby (if I can help it), and I'll let her direct the time.  I'm sick of nagging her when it doesn't really work anyway.

And I've got to spend some one-on-one time with Miss C aside from midnight nursing sessions.  She deserves the time and attention that Miss F got as a baby.  Right now, I've been handing her off to Mr. B or putting her in a cradle as soon as she's done eating or being changed.  She's waking up and growing now that she's a month old, and I haven't noticed at all until today.

Every day I shape my family, and I don't want to wake up one day with a henpecked husband, a tantrum-throwing and attention seeking toddler, and an ignored baby.

 

Miss C looking happy to see me this morning 

Vegetables for Picky Eaters

My four year old nephew is a very picky eater.  His list of approved foods is very short:  bread products, tomato sauce/soup, chocolate, watermelon, and cheetos.  He hates vegetables, most fruits, and he's not a big meat eater.  A few weeks ago, we spent some time with them.  While everyone had pizza, he had a little french bread with a tiny bit of tomato sauce.  A little later, he had a bread stick.  That was all he ate from the time we got there at 10 am to the time he left at 5 pm.  He only started eating cheese a week ago.

My sister-in-law and I talked about his food habits, and she expressed concern.  That's when I told her that I add grated carrot into our spaghetti sauce.  She works a very demanding job and only sees nephew for an hour a day.  So I offered to help.  I'm trying to come up with ways to sneak nutrients into his food.  I know there are cookbooks out there for this express purpose, but this is what I've decided to try so far:

• Zucchini doughnuts
• Veggie-spiked spaghetti sauce
• Veggie-spiked "nephew approved" soups (bean purees in tomato soup)
• Sweet potato pancakes

For the first experiment, I decided to make something he couldn't say no to:  double chocolate zucchini muffins.  I found them at For the Love of Cooking.  I was skeptical at first, but they are AMAZING.

 

These muffins are moist, dense, and chocolatey.  There's no hint of zucchini in them.  These particular muffins I made with whole wheat flour, sucanat, pastured eggs, and organically/locally grown zucchini to make them extra delicious and healthy. Nephew downed his muffin in no time flat and proclaimed his love for them.  Next time I make them, homemade applesauce will substitute some of the oil to make it even better.

How do you sneak veggies into your foods?

Death, Grief, and Children

My immediate family has been very lucky to have been spared many losses.  Since I was born almost 30 years ago, we've lost four family members:  my aunt when I was 2, my uncle when I was 15, my great-grandmother when I was 17, and just last week, my grandmother.

I was too young to remember my aunt.  My mom tells me stories about what happened when she got sick.  She was only 23 when she passed, and no one really expected it.  My mom whisked me across the country just in time to see her before she died.

My uncle died in a motorcycle accident.  Rather than having me attend the services, my parents had me and my younger brother stay with family friends.  They were too distraught to think through the appropriate age and manner for approaching death and grief.

I was in Oklahoma visiting a friend for three weeks when my great-grandmother died.  I missed all of the services because I couldn't fly home.  We knew that she would be passing soon, so I said my goodbyes before I left for my trip.

Those were the family members I was close with.  There were cousins of my parents, my father's uncle, and others that passed.  My parents (one, the other, or both) attended, but it was never even insinuated that we should go.

Though I had no experience with death in my family, I had horrendous experiences with death in American culture.  Ever since I was a child, I saw graphic depictions of death on television.  I learned about the physical processes of death in science class.  I knew exactly what would happen once I died - physically, not spiritually - and it terrified me.  And while I understood that death was permanent, I still feared the "supernatural" death experiences present movies and television:  people rising out of cemeteries, ghosts, and the like.

When I asked my mom the other day why she never took me to funerals, she said she didn't want to disturb me.  I think I was far more disturbed by what I experienced outside of a loving family than what I experienced with my grandmother's funeral.

I still have serious issues with death and dying.  While I was there when she passed, I couldn't bring myself to touch my grandmother immediately after she died.  I attended both viewings, but I never got within 15 feet of the open casket.  I could see her from where I was, and I did my duty as a granddaughter by attending.  At her funeral, I stood next to the closed casket, but I never touched it.  At the interment, I was obsessively careful to walk between graves so as not to step over anyone.

But the events that kept me up at night for years were not as traumatic as I expected.  When Miss F was nursing at night, I would wake up, worried that my grandparents had died, dreading what would happen next.  I am obviously grieving.  But I'm no longer up at night, dreading that moment.

This week has taught me how to better handle death when it comes to my children.  Miss F attended one of the viewings and the funeral.  It is better than she learns about death and grief from family in a loving and compassionate manner than to learn as I did.  It won't be a perfect lesson, but I hope to spare her the anxiety that has been saddled on me for so long.

Losing Our Matriarch

On Tuesday night, my grandmother passed away after having collapsed at home the night before.  She was 82 years old, and would have been married for 61 years this Friday.  With her husband, she had three children (one deceased), four grandchildren, and one great-grandchild.  We were all with her, except Miss F who was with *B* in the waiting room as no one under 12 was allowed in the hospital unit.  My uncle's widow, my mother (my grandmother's ex-daughter-in-law), my brother's fiancee, and my grandmother's sister were also in attendance.

I had never been in the room when someone passed before.  I've never been to a funeral either, though that will change by the end of the week.  Right now I feel like I've accepted it, but I haven't been through most of the traditional stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  That makes me wonder if Friday will be the end of the healing process or the raw beginning.  We'll see what happens.

In honor of my grandmother, here are a few of the things she loved:
- Her family
- Her church
- Saint Therese of Lisieux
- Christmas cacti
- Geraniums
- Wave petunias
- Homemade sour beef with mashed potatoes
- Ice cream after dinner
- Going to Ocean City in the summer
- Going on cruises
- Getting something on sale
- Collectibles (beanie babies, Christmas villages, etc).
- Email forwarded jokes

Anachronistic Living

On Saturday, *B*, Miss F, and I went to a market fair.  This particular market fair was a pre-revolution, colonial-era market fair that seemed to be half reenactment and half actual market.  I was so excited to go that I literally skipped for joy down the road into the market.  I had never been before, but *B* and I love historical reenactments.  It was everything I ever dreamed of and more. 

Baby fashion doesn't change much, so we put Miss F in her renaissance chemise.  We originally had her in a onesie and tights underneath, but it turns out it was a little warm.  We didn't dress up because we figured it'd be strange to be two hundred years off in the other direction, but now we know that a lot of our clothes (mostly *B*'s clothes) would still work.

The items at the market fair were much less expensive than at the renaissance festival that we attend.  I actually bought a full dress from a shop whose owner was retiring.  They were more than accommodating.  It was the third "sutler" that we visited.  I found an outfit that I loved, but I had no idea what was at the other shops.  So they held it for me, with no expectations or attitude, provided that I would come back by the end of the day to tell them if I wanted it or not.  After we bought my dress, *B* bought me a straw hat to go with it since Evie destroyed my old one when it fell off a hook.  It looks a little matronly, but I'm happy with it.

After we bought my dress, we went through the camp.  A lot of people camp for the four days that the fair runs.  There were no Coleman tents here, they were all white canvas or linen.  In front of some of the tents, there were blankets with items on them.  We quickly realized this was their version of a yard sale!  I'm so thankful that we did realize that, because we got some amazing items.  For Miss F, a little girl's dress that was $2.  Two dollars!

This basket backpack originally ran about $65 at the sutler's tent.  We got it for $12 in fine condition.  I can't wait to use it out and about, especially at the renaissance festival this fall.

The last thing we got was something I had always heard of but never seen - a burning lens.  It's just a small concave lens that focuses sunlight to a point.  Aside from it being fun (and possibly useful) for us, we figured it would be good for Miss F when she's older.

 

Now that we've experienced the market fair, we can't wait until next year.  Fortunately or unfortunately, many of the living history events in our area are Civil War related.  While we love dressing up, war reenactment doesn't suit our needs.  So we're on the lookout for other experiences like this in our area.

Happier Days

Today has been a great day.  It's been the first day since Monday that *B* has been home.  He was amazingly sweet and took Miss F (who gets up at 4 am for the day) and let me sleep from her 6 am feeding to 9 am.  He got to see what it was like to be me for a little while.  He was amazed that it took four hours for him to be able to put her down long enough to use the restroom.

Our nursing problems appear to be fixing themselves.  Well, I don't know if I'd put it that way exactly - both Miss F and I have worked hard at them.  But she seems to be much more content, as am I.  We've even got a very small supply of stored milk in case I need to go somewhere without her or vice versa.

Another amazing find today was a sling for Miss F.  We have a backpack-like carrier, but she hates it.  I couldn't justify spending $50 for a piece of fabric that she may or may not like and be able to fit into for very long.  *B* and I went to the consignment store in town, however, and found a very nice sling for only $15!  While it's pinky and flowery, *B* wore Miss F while we went browsing our local antique shops today with *B*'s sister and her husband.

Tonight was also Miss F's first bath ever:

 While not thrilled, she didn't scream either.  It was a relatively pleasant experience.

 Miss F's froggie towel got her nice and warm and dry.

By the time bathtime was over, Miss F was plum tuckered out!

I love that last picture.  It really does make me smile.  It's the first picture where I really and honestly look at it and see what I've always wanted - a family.

Happy Birthday, Nephew!

Our nephew turned 3 today!  He's absolutely obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine and the movie Cars.  My mom had bought me a Lightning McQueen cake pan in advance of the celebration, and I tried my hand at making it this weekend.  Not bad if I say so myself!

I had to use a whole pot of red food coloring for the icing to turn out an actual red color.  Because there was so much, it stained everything!  This is *B*'s hand, which is usually the palest white, after doing the dishes:

 

All of our tongues turned bright pink, and our nephew had red all over his chin from the festivities.  Paired with the two black eyes he had from running into a cabinet in one instance and falling off a step in another, he looked like he was wearing clown makeup.

Happy birthday, nephew!

Becoming a Godmother

*B* and I have been asked to be godparents for a very close friend whose son was born in January.  She will be baptizing him Catholic, so we can actually fulfill the roles if I am the godmother and *B* is a witness.  I've been doing a fair bit of research on my duties in the church in this manner, and I'm very excited.

The mother of this child is not herself particularly religious.  She was baptized Catholic, but I'm pretty sure she never had communion, and I know she wasn't confirmed.  I take it as my job to instruct my future godson in the faith in a way I was not nurtured as a child.   Though we live a country apart right now, I envision sending him his own Bible and letters (emails) about how to pray and lead a good life.  When together, I look forward to taking him to Mass and explaining the liturgy.

One thing I've realized as I've done my research on being a good godmother is that our children will have no one to be godparents to them.  This cuts me deeply.  My brother would have been a choice, but he was not confirmed and has no real religious belief.  We have one other friend who is Catholic.  We've known each other 20+ years, but I'm not sure she'd be a good choice as she's religiously sound, but not domestically stable.  *B*'s family is not religious in any manner, so there are no options there.

For now,  I'm going to invest my energy into praying for my future godson.  I think the only thing I can do is to ask God to send me someone in the future that could show the same devotion one day to my future children.

What Family Means

When I was younger, my cousin and I were very close.  She had some "attitude issues" and could be hard to get along with, but overall we were friends.  Sometime about five years ago, she was effectively disowned and moved far away.  My family hasn't seen her since then.  She will call sometimes, and I found her on Facebook, so we keep in touch a little bit.

When I was in grad school, she'd call me occasionally, asking for money or trying to sell me stereos at a good price that I was pretty sure were stolen.  She didn't stop asking until I explained to her that I couldn't make my own rent (which was 100% true at that time).  She hasn't asked me since then, but she asks the rest of the family at least a couple of times a year.

A few months ago, she had a baby.  I knew about it before she had it, but no one else did.  She told her mother about him when he was a week old.  The father was deported, so she's raising him on her own, living on welfare. 

I'm having a hard time balancing how my family treats her with how I should treat her.  I know that she's manipulative and has deeply hurt her parents in the past.  On the other hand, I feel so bad that her son will grow up without ANY family other than his mother.

I also feel like this is a warning sign that any false move on my part will put me in the same boat.  Rather than family meaning unconditional love, I walk on eggshells all the time.  Did I forget a thank you note or haven't called in a couple of weeks?  Ticks go in the negative column.  I have to pull something big to get back into good graces.

One of my biggest fears is incorporating the negative characteristics and habits of my existing family into my newly formed family.  I never want to put my kids - or anyone else for that matter - in the position of having to choose between who they are, their dreams, and their family.

ACOD

I'm an Adult Child of Divorce - an ACOD. Though my parents' divorce isn't finalized (they're waiting on a judge's decree), they have been separated for two and a half years.  In that time, not a whole lot had changed.  Yes, my mom moved out into an apartment and then bought a house.  But really, they spent a lot of time together.  Probably 3 out of 5 times I called my mom on her cell phone, I'd hear my dad in the background.

At Thanksgiving, I invited my family to a New Year's party I knew we'd be having.  My dad said he'd have a "house guest" over and wouldn't be able to come.  He was very vague with pronouns.  A friend was coming.  They'd be here for two weeks.  They were from Ireland.

When I called my dad the other day to see if he'd come to dinner at our house with my mom so that we could exchange gifts left from Christmas, he said "Bernadette's still here, she'd be coming too."  It kind of knocked me for a loop.  My mom, understandably, bowed out and we saw her this morning.  I didn't think I could handle some strange woman in my house who (I believe, though I might be wrong because I was never given a name) was the one who broke up my parents' marriage.

I'm still really angry with my dad for the divorce.  For so many years, he treated my mother poorly.  I don't mean leaving dirty clothes on the floor and not appreciating the work she did.  I mean yelling at her, cursing her out, even refusing to speak with her for three days because she put her hair in a french braid not just once, but on at least two occasions.  Of Valentine's Day and anniversaries, he'd scoff and say they were made up by the greeting card companies.  I remember their anniversary in 2001, the day before 9/11, my mom made my dad's coffee and put an anniversary card on top of the cup.  He dumped the card without reading it, took the coffee and left for work without a word to her. 

We ended up meeting my dad and his "friend" at a local diner.  It was the strangest thing I've ever been through. My dad was a completely changed person with this other lady.  He held her door open, helped her take off her coat, read her menu to her when she forgot her glasses.  He was genuinely excited for what was going on in her life.  Why wasn't my mom good enough for the same treatment?  With my mom, she wasn't even worth going to counseling to try to work things out.

All in all, Bernadette was a nice enough lady.  Things said during the course of the dinner insinuates that she's sticking around for a while (though she does still live in Ireland).

Right now I'm struggling with the fact that are very few resources for an adult dealing with parents divorcing.  Many of the support networks I've found deal with custody issues, absent parents, and parents' SOs disciplining kids.  There's very little out there for people who are still blindsided by the sudden loss of family.  Being an ACOD, I felt for a long time like I have no family. 

The last year with *B* has helped that out a lot.  I feel like I have a little seed of a family started now.  Though it may not be a mature family, it provides some hope and comfort.  In light of the problems my parents have had, we are being proactive in our relationship to make sure that we don't make the same mistakes and ameliorate the ones we do make.

It is my hope that eventually, everything will settle into normalcy.  I would like each of my parents to find someone to be happy with, though I'd secretly prefer it to be my mom first rather than my dad.  I'd like to know what holidays and birthdays are going to be like with this new kind of life rather than fear the attitude of the year.

Any ACODs out there?  How does it all work out?  Does it ever get easy?

A New Identity

It is so strange to have such a new identity thrust upon myself as it has been.  During the honeymoon and right after, I felt very little change in who I am.  I will say, the words "husband" and "wife" are taking a little time to get used to.  Though very little changed with regard to lifestyle, I feel like we're learning our roles with respect to one another again as if it were the first time.

I would imagine that in most professions, a name change is a relatively minor occurrence.  As a teacher, it has been tedious.  For the last two and a half years, my kids have called me Miss W.  Now that I'm Mrs. H, my past and current students stutter when they try to talk to me.  I also have a fairly common and very easy to pronounce maiden name.  My new name has to be pronounced and spelled a few times before the kids pick it up.

Legally, I'm in limbo right now.  I've changed my name with social security, but I have to wait to change just about everything else until I actually receive my new card in the mail. 

When we went on our honeymoon, I found out that my first name was spelled wrong on my passport!  It is a very common name with only one spelling of which I know.  So now I have to change both my last name and the spelling of my first name, which involves two different forms through the State department.

It will be very nice, one day, to be known as Mrs. H to everyone - including myself!  I'm just not sure how long it will take to get there.

A Special Simple Pleasure Thursday

In one month, I will be a married lady.  I have absolutely no jitters.  My feet are toasty warm thank-you-very-much.  As I sit here, sick as a dog for the third time this year, I realize for the umpteenth time that I have an amazing fiance.  He brings me blankets and wraps me up mummy-style.  He runs to get the thermometer even though he was just upstairs a second ago.  Every morning, even when I'm all sick and nasty, I get a kiss and "I love you" before he leaves for work, though often times I'm out cold.

*B* is the most gentle guy I know.  I've never seen him demean anyone, though he does make fun of his mom.  If you knew her, you'd understand why this isn't a bad thing.  He laughs at my jokes (and his own, amusingly enough).  He loves animals, sometimes more than humans.  He wants to make the world a better place even though it means meatless nights and scary lentil dishes.

He does his share of his housework (and often more).  I throw the laundry down the basement steps, and magically the clothes end up clean in a laundry basket waiting for me to fold and hang them.  He clears my "nucleation sites" (for non-geeks, that's the few dirty dishes in the sink after breakfast or dessert that cause a chain reaction of dirty dishes to appear all over my kitchen).

My simple pleasure today is having a mere month left until the beginning of an awesome marriage - and not being afraid of it.

Getting Back to Normal

Wow, it's almost been a week since my last post.  I'm still trying to get myself back to normal.  When last I left off, my life was imploding to some extent.  The saga continues.

I had a (mostly) good weekend, but things have been coming back to bite me in the rear.  On Saturday, we had a really good time at the Renaissance Festival for the first few hours.  My mom went for the first time ever and dressed up, and we got my future mother-in-law to go too.  There will be pictures soon. 

I got an early birthday present that I feel REALLY guilty about.  We shouldn't have done it.  A renaissance dressmaker I love had a paper up on their shop that said 50% off.  So I was super excited, and dragged *B* into the store with me.  For the last few years, my birthday presents have been renaissance clothing.  Even though I wanted something different this time, the store beckoned and we went.  I tried on two dresses.  One took 15 minutes to put on with an insane amount of help.  Think Kate Winslet and her mother putting on her dress in the movie Titanic, complete with the foot in the back. 

So I tried on another dress that I liked very much.  It was significantly cheaper (by a lot).  I'm in it, my mom and *B* say YES - that's it.  She cut the tags, and the lady quotes us the price.  But it's half off, I say.  Oh sorry, she says, that was just the sale bin.  I didn't see that!  But it's so beautiful.  I've visited it every time I've gone for the last two years, but I've never been able to suck it up and get it.  I can't say that I haven't slept on it and given it some thought

*B* convinced me he'd get it anyway.  I can't believe he did it.  I can't believe I agreed.  I'm ashamed to even admit how much it cost.  I'm way too calculated to let him do something like that.  Don't get me wrong - I love this dress.  It's gorgeous.  I will wear it for many, many years.  It fits me well, looks good on me, and since it's split in the middle, accommodates child bearing years as well as normal years. 

Image from Wolfstone Kilt Co

My dress is very similar to the one above, but the chemise is a mint green with slightly sleeves and neckline.  Think an old lady's nightdress, in a totally fashionable, vintage way.  I don't have the plaid part either.  The chemise covers shoulders and decolletage and the skirt area, and it looks very nice.  I can now add to it if I feel like it in the coming years, though it's not necessary. 

So I am at the Renn Fest, happy but guilty.  Then came more trouble.  *B* had been drinking throughout the day.  I have no idea how much he had, but I do know that he was holding his own for a while.  I, myself, had a cider and a half or so over the eight hours we were there.  *B*'s friend showed up, and at that point, he was gone.  My mom was with fMIL, *B* was with his friend, and I was left by myself.  I was annoyed. 

When *B* drinks, he changes.  Not necessarily in a bad way - he's never violent.  He just gets kind of whiny and stuck in his own head.  I can't interact with him.  So I'm being ignored by everyone, and when I'm not ignored, I can't even hold a simple conversation with him.  We have a friend's birthday dinner to attend after the fest.  And *B* is being weird.  Silent brooding ensues.

Then comes the worst part - the parking lot.  We decided to leave at 6 to be down the road and at our friend's house at 6:30.  This is an hour before the end of the day.  There was so much traffic.  It took us one and a half hours to get out of the parking lot.  People kept jumping out of line, driving through the grass and cutting everyone off.  Think leapfrog here.  But I wouldn't - I have standards of conduct.  So we got more and more behind as time went on.  We missed the birthday dinner completely.  *B*'s no help and I can't talk to him because he's still somewhat drunk.  I am seething.

On the drive home, I finally spit out what was wrong.  Yes, I felt guilty about my present.  Yes, traffic annoyed me to no end.  But I was more than mad, I was worried.  *B* has been drinking a lot lately.  He goes to happy hours with friends one or two times a week.  He drinks during Renn Fest.  When I told him what was wrong, he told me I needed to find friends.  I was taken aback.  This doesn't sound like him.  We haven't spoken of it since.  But now that worry is in the back of my mind.  I know that now that Renn Fest is over, he will cut back a lot.  I hope.  I've been turning over all of the little problems we've been happening between us.  Is there anything we can do to get back on track?  Will things change after the wedding?  Am I being too harsh?  Have I changed?  Has he?  Am I too needy?  I've had some problems slipping back into depression again.  Will I have to deal with this forever?  Or will I be okay?

Any thoughts are greatly appreciated.

Stress, Sadness, and Sleep

Yesterday was two months until my wedding.  That, in and of itself, is a good thing I think.  Despite the stress and frustration, I am looking forward to it as one would expect. 

Yesterday evening, though, we got some bad news.  My future brother-in-law might be my former future brother-in-law before we even get married.  He and *B*'s sister, who have been having problems since their son was born, are actually talking about splitting up.  She wrote me to tell me he probably wouldn't be coming.

This is not good on three levels.  One, we really like him and don't want him to go.  He's a great guy and an awesome dad.  Two, we feel bad for their son.  She's American, he's British, and their son was born in Germany.  The boy will have serious custody-related problems and either travel back and forth between the continents his whole life or miss one parent for long periods of time.  Three, BIL was to be in our wedding.  Not just because he's the husband of *B*'s sister, but because we genuinely wanted him there.  So not only will we miss him, we'll be uneven.  Since *B* doesn't have many close male friends, it's not like we could replace him.

Given that this happened just before bedtime, I had dreams about it all night.  In my dreams, no one was really doing anything for the wedding.  *B* and other people in it were just sitting around in a random room.  My dad was in street clothes.  And to top it off, the priest skipped out, so we couldn't even get married.  We couldn't get a refund on our honeymoon, so we had to go unmarried or do a quickie wedding, which was not at all the kind of person I am.  It was a complete disaster in every since of the word.  This is my second wedding dream, though probably not the last.  At least they're dreams about the ceremony going wrong, not about *B* being the wrong guy :o)

Mixed Marriages

I've been thinking a lot lately about mixed marriages. I haven't posted on it because I've been a tad afraid of offending someone, somewhere.  Now feels right.  NB:  It is not my intention to offend anyone.  If I do so, it is unintentional.

In the Catholic faith, ours will be a mixed marriage.  Since *B* is not baptized in any Christian church, this also means that our marriage will not be a sacrament for me. When we first met, I had pretty much given up on any kind of church, Christian or not.  I didn't care, then, what he believed in. Yes, I knew he was really into communing with nature as a form of spiritual satisfaction.

When we first talked about getting married, it was a pretty secular proposition.  As plans firmed up, I realized that I wanted to get married in a Catholic church.  I had done everything else thus far, I might as well.  So we found a priest, and we talked about the three questions we will have to agree to in order to be married in the church:  we have to be faithful to each other, believe that marriage is for life, and raise our children in the church.  He also told us that we needed to go through some kind of marriage class (standard procedure).  We had heard bad things about the group sessions, so we chose the sponsor couple route.

At the same time, I had been developing in what I tentatively call my faith.  I'm still a tad nervous and hesitant.  But I wanted *B* to be exposed to the church, so we started going to Mass shortly after our first sponsor couple meeting.  We've now been going just about two months.

I know that I feel better since we started going.  I at least partially attribute my departure from therapy to feeling more fulfilled after attending church.

In the beginning, it made us stronger.  We would go, and make the drive home, feeling happy and restored.  Believe it or not, it soon started causing a bit of a rift between me and *B*.  I started to try to teach *B* some of the things that would happen in Mass.  The sign of the cross, what to say.  He felt...attacked for lack of a better word.  At least he was there, he thought.  True, so I tried to back off.  I just wanted to help.  Then he'd ask questions, trying to better understand.  And I'd excitedly answer them.  I ate them up.  I came to find myself desperately wanting him to become Catholic.  I've never really cared before.  The worst part is, I don't exactly know why I want this so.

Part of it is tradition.  My family is all Catholic, and I don't really see another religion being possible or desirable.  Part of it is that I want the classic idea of the Catholic family:

Despite what reality may be, I imagine a Catholic family to be one in which the kids are try their best, are respectful, and have complete faith (at least while they're young).  I know that what I'm going for is not necessarily based in religion, but when I see it, I feel a tug.

Regardless, *B* says he likes going to church.  He's even going to Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA) to learn about Catholicism, though he's pretty certain he won't be baptized.  He has no problem bringing our kids up Catholic and even being a source of answers for them when they have questions about the church.  

So what's my problem?  I have no answer for that.  I also can't answer a number of *B*'s questions.  It hasn't bothered me so much that I have some doubts about major tenets of the church.  It does bother *B* that he has the same concerns.  Why would he be baptized in a church with which he doesn't at least mostly agree?  But then again, if he's going to church, participating in church activities, why not go full in and hope that you figure it out along the way?  In the midst of this, I question what tenuous grip I have on being Catholic.  Ugh, right now it's the blind leading the blind.

Though I'm sure I know the answer to this question:  is there any easy way to figure all this out?

Memorial Day Weekend

First and foremost: A big thank you to those who have served and are serving now in our military. A special thank you is in order for those who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom.

Secondly, we went to see Prairie Home Companion at Wolf Trap on Saturday for their Memorial Day edition.

We're such nerds that we got there 2 hours early to wait for the gates to open 1 1/2 hours before the show. We got AWESOME lawn seats.

Wolf Trap is really amazing. Just beyond where you see the chairs and people is a fairly steep hill. That makes all lawn seats good seats. Unlike other places I've been, this means that everyone can see despite others sitting in front of them.

The actual seating is really gorgeous, too. The entire stadium is made of a really beautiful wood.

This is their set. It really does remind me of home :o)

Garrison Keillor himself came out to the cheap seats!

I love a man in a suit and red sneakers.

The end of the show!

Another Form of Work

I've often heard it said that "marriage is hard work." While I'm not quite there, I've just recently come to understand what this means. I've always thought my relationship was good - we never fight, he does nice things for me, I try to do nice things for him. But I've realized that we've been living past each other. We are each in our own world for the duration of time that we're in the same place.

Obviously not us. Image from http://www.disaboomjobs.com/career-resources/working-from-home-telecommuting/how-to-get-hired-from-virtual-volunteering

This weekend, we worked really hard to change that. Last night, it seemed to come naturally again. It seems that letting your guard down, just for a few weeks or months, means that the great relationship you've formed slips away. And without regular tune-ups, it falls into disrepair.

It's for this reason that we're going to try FHEs again. Last semester, I was in school once a month on our FHE night, so it really threw things off. We just let it go. I'm going to try hard to come up with a schedule of things to do together in order to strengthen our relationship. I am hopeful between our FHE and the marriage sessions we'll be doing before we can get married in the church, we will set ourselves up with a stable foundation on which to build our lives.

The Importance of Dinner

Dinner used to be a family event. Or at least that's what I'm told. My family sort of just ate in front of the television. But back in the day, gathering around a table was the norm, and not just relegated to holiday meals.

If I've learned one thing in the education classes I've taken, it's that the key to child development is family dinners. There have been stories on the research from ABC News, NPR, and other news outlets. I even seem to remember a Stouffer's commercial to this effect.

I had a professor for my Special Ed class who expounded upon this subject. She said that she was having a tough go of it while her kids were in high school. Her husband development serious psychological issues, she was having financial problems, and the stress was really getting to her. But every day, she put food on the table at night, even if it was just peanut butter and jelly, because she knew how important it was to her children's development. She was (is) convinced that having food on the table helped her to maintain some normalcy, and led to meaningful conversations with her children. It would have been very easy to get wrapped up in the stress of life and forget about her children. Feeling neglected, they would have found acceptance and companionship elsewhere, which could involve drugs or worse.

I'm slowly building a list (mentally for the moment, but in writing at some point) of things I want to remember for when I have kids. Dinner time is definitely one. Family home evening is another. Library day is a third. What kind of things are must-haves for raising your families?

Rocket Days!

We have now come to the part of the year that I love the most. It is rocket time here at my school. My physics classes will be building rockets, predicting the height of a flight given an engine and a payload, and comparing their actual maximum height (using an altimeter) to their predictions. We might even be able to watch a movie in class, October Sky. That movie was the first date I ever went on - yes, I'm a geek. We're not allowed to show it at one go, but we might break it up over two or three days. Over the next two weeks, if the weather is good, I'll post pictures or maybe even video of the launchings (sans students, of course).

Everything else is winding down, and I'm getting kind of nervous. I have less than a month left to find a summer job. I've applied at two places (Sylvan Learning Center and my local library) and have not heard anything from either. I'm very much hoping to get the library job. I could walk to work, and it would be a well paying temporary position in the children's section.

We are, of course, still waiting to hear on *B*'s chances at the job at my school. When I talked with him about the questions they asked and the answers he gave, they all seemed right on target. I'm still praying very hard that he does indeed get the position.

I haven't had much sleep in the last few days. I keep going to bed around 12-1 am and getting up at 6 am. Talk about burning the candles at both ends. I have really been going nuts researching my family. In some respects, I've found a huge wealth of knowledge out there on the web. In others, I've got nothing. I really need to just put it down for a week or two and start up again later. Interesting factoid - one of my family members married a woman who died giving birth to their first child, a son. He then married her daughter (his stepdaughter) who had a few children then also died in childbirth. Then he died at sea, leaving everyone orphaned.

I have neglected my garden just a tad because of all of the rain or activity going on lately. I really need to keep on top of it. The lettuce looks like it's ready to harvest here shortly. I believe that the frostbitten lettuce that I pulled out at the beginning of the year is starting to grow again, so we can transplant that right back on in.

Birding is going well. I've discovered another species eating the suet on our back deck. While this is not my picture, we have a few grey catbirds roaming around the yard.

Picture from Memories of Chapel Hill

All in all, it's proving to be a crazy, but happy time right now. I am hopeful all will continue to go well.