unbelievable chocolate

Friends, I should totally be making supper, but instead I am writing to tell you about some unbelievable "homemade chocolate" that I just made.  You.  Have.  Got.  To try this!

(and please don't tell Janet Gehman, my favorite high school English teacher, that I just wrote and published a sentence with that kind of incredibly made-up punctuation in it.  . . . on the other hand, she just might approve!)

Okay, credit where credit is due:  this recipe comes from homemade mommy's blog.  I don't know anything else about her but believe you me I am going to find out.  Anyone who invents something this easy, this mind-blowingly yummy, this healthy deserves my investigation!

Enough build-up.  I am unkind to linger.  Here is the recipe:

Homemade Chocolate

1/2 cup coconut oil (the more expensive is supposedly better but just use what you have and research that later)
1/4 cup honey (raw is best)
1/2 cup cocoa (if you know someone in southeast PA, have them ship Wilbur's cocoa to you)
1/2 tsp. vanilla (please, I beg you, do not use imitation vanilla in this.....)
dash of salt

Mix:  warm the oil and raw honey if necessary, but if you're impatient like me you can just mash it all together with a wooden spoon.  Spread on wax paper and chill.  If you melted, you'll have to line a pan with wax paper and pour it in - see, sometimes being impatient actually saves you time!!  Even out the edges with a knife as it chills.  Eat the trimmings.  So important to have the edges even, isn't it?  And so easy for them to get wobbly.  Trim frequently if necessary.  Go ahead and feel virtuous about the honey and coconut oil.

If there is still some left by the time it's chilled (after all those trimmings), cut into bite-sized pieces and eat 'em up!!!  I mean, store in airtight container and ration out a single piece daily, to be consumed mindfully and with gratitude.

Do share the recipe.  Share the chocolate, too, if you're sufficiently generous.  (and I know you are, or you wouldn't be reading this blog!!)


Ahhh ... doesn't life seem a little bit brighter, now that you can make your chocolate, and eat it, too?

a most pleasant drone

Our house sounds like a wind tunnel, on this second day of summer.

I remember a friend using that phrase, "wind tunnel", to describe their house, post-flooding, as the insurance company set up serious airflow control to dry out the rooms.  She didn't sound particularly affectionate when she said it.

For me, though, the whir of fans is a pleasant noise, somnolent and nostalgic.

I remember sleeping in my grandma's ancient guest bed, the one with the headboard that went on forever, with a reading lamp centered conveniently above my head.  It was summer, hot, the curtains drifting lazily in and out in the recalcitrant breeze.  But I, I had a breeze:  a weighty box fan set on a kitchen chair mere feet from my restless body, blowing ceaselessly across me and the off-white candlewick bedspread.

That night epitomizes my grandma for me.  I got a nosebleed, I think, and went down the dark stairs to find her.  She was still awake, in her nightclothes.  She gave me tissues, rubbed my back, and heated milk and honey on the stove.  I drank love from that mug, hot and sweet.  And then I went back up the stairs to my fan and slept like a baby.

Fans make me think, too, of my father:  sometimes minister, sometimes grammar police, sometimes physics teacher to his children.  Always a safe place - even the kittens knew, somehow.  He taught me all I needed to know about airflow:  on a hot night, set a box fan in an open window, blowing out.  It blew my childish mind, to think of "wasting" that air, blowing it out into the night when I wanted it blowing on me!  But look! go to a window on the other side of the house, and feel! the air is coming in there, cool and fresh!  Turn the fan off, and the breeze magically stops.  On, and it's back!

I remember a summer spent volunteering in northeast Georgia between college years.  We'd take cold showers just before retiring to bed, and then lie in our loft beds, trying to feel benefit from a small oscillating fan hung from the ceiling, the damp of the shower turning into the damp of fresh sweat.

And nights now, many years later, too hot to sleep despite sprawling in minimal nightwear under the ceiling fan:  I should be miserable (and sometimes am) but instead feel the excitement of a slumber party, remembering the day in muted voices, laughing over something the children said or did, all to the reassuring soundtrack of the box fan in the window.

: : :

If the heat stays too long, we'll probably abandon the fans in favor of window units.  But, curmudgeons that we are, we like to hold out as long as we can.  Here, we don't mind a little whirring.  We like our fans.

multiple choice

Your toddler has developed a definite whine, despite no apparent physical maladies.  His insistent and, er, melodious "Mommmmmy - UP!" grates on your nerves and increases in volume as the morning progresses.  You have fed him breakfast.  You have held him.  You have reminded him to say "Mommy, up please" in his "nice" voice.  You have played trucks with him.  You have balanced him on one hip while trying to  make the printer do what all good printers should (namely, to print!!).  You have helped him pull a chair to the counter to watch you chop onions.  You have finally had enough.  You scoop him up lovingly, put his sandals on and hold his hand to walk outside.  He plays happily with a kitty.  You call over his capable older sister, instruct her as to his care, and kiss him adieu.  He breaks into a heartbreaking (and earsplitting) wail and trots after you, tears streaming down his bouncing little cheeks, as you attempt to head inside.

Do you .... :

a) ... turn around, pick him up with a resigned smile, and tell yourself that it's just for a season .... he'll be off to college before you know it?

b) ... turn around, lose your temper and tell him in no uncertain terms what you think of this childish behavior?  [irony intended]

c) ... walk resolutely back into the house, knowing that the boy is loved and safe?

d) ... walk back inside, wanting to cry yourself, completely unsure of what is best for him?

e) ... respond with wisdom and grace by _____________ ?

biochemistry lesson

What, you may be asking, is the big deal with sugar anyway?  It's natural, it's from plants for crying out loud: beets, or sugarcane.  It's a food ... right?!  Well, yes .... and no.  Check this out:

from an article entitled "Toxic Foods and Mood:  You Are What You Eat!"

"Foods trigger the production and release of brain chemicals that control your mental and emotional responses.  Sugar exaggerates the production of serotonin, beta-endorphin and dopamine.  The overproduction results in a "high" followed by a crash, which sets up your craving for more sugar.  Your receptors also become less sensitive in order to protect against the overdosing of the 'drug'.  It is why you require more and more (sugar, alcohol, heroin, refined carbohydrates, etc.) just to feel normal.  This results in physical dependence on the drug to pick you up, but your 'habit' now results in depression instead of well-being, and exhaustion and anxiety instead of an energy pick up."

[disclaimer:  I realize the source is not scientific ... but none of the scientific sources I found were terribly intelligible to me.  If you have the brains for it, the science is definitely out there for you!]


And now, a few lists for you, courtesy of Potatoes, Not Prozac by Kathleen DesMaisons, who posits that sugar consumption affects blood sugar, serotonin, and beta-endorphins in the following ways.

So.  Blood sugar, first. Blood sugar is affected by the speed with which our digestive systems process our food (think "glycemic index", on which low is good, and sugar is very, very, high) 

With optimal blood sugar, you'll feel:

           energetic

           tired when appropriate (at the end of long day, after hard exertion, etc.)

           focused

           relaxed

           clear-minded

           good memory

           able to concentrate

           able to solve problems efficiently

           easygoing

           even-tempered

With low blood sugar levels, caused, for instance, by the consumption of sugar, you'll feel:

           tired all the time

           tired for no reason

           restless/can't keep still

           confused

           have trouble remembering and concentrating

           easily frustrated

           more irritable than usual

           get angry unexpectedly

Next, Serotonin (affected by protein/tryptophan, sugar, and anti-depressant medications).

With optimal serotonin levels, you'll feel:

           hopeful, optimistic

           reflective & thoughtful

           able to concentrate

           creative, focused

           able to think things through

           able to seek help

           responsive

           looking forward to dessert a bit

           hungry for healthy foods

With low serotonin levels, caused, for instance, by the consumption of sugar, you'll feel:

           depressed

           impulsive

           short attention span

           mentally blocked, scattered

           flying off the handle

           suicidal, possibly

           reactive

           craving sweets

           craving mostly carbohydrates (bread, pasta, cereal)

Last is beta-endorphins.  They are produced by the pituitary gland during exercise, excitement, pain, eating spicy or sugary food, and tanning (i.e. absorbing infrared rays from the sun).  Other "quality of life" experiences may also cause beta-endorphin production (i.e. stroking a pet, praying, watching a sunset, listening to beautiful music, talking with a good friend, etc.)

With optimal beta-endorphin levels, you'll feel:

           high tolerance for pain

           sensitive & sympathetic

           high self-esteem

           compassionate

           connected and in touch with others

           hopeful, optimistic, euphoric

           taking personal responsibility

           a "take-it or leave-it" attitude toward sweet foods

           solution-oriented

With low beta-endorphin levels, caused, for instance, by the consumption of sugar, you'll feel:

           low pain tolerance

           tearful, reactive

           low self-esteem

           overwhelmed by others' pain

           isolated or rejected

           depressed, hopeless

           feeling "done to" by others (martyr or victim syndrome)

           craving sugar

           emotionally overwhelmed

See yourself in any of those "low" lists?  I sure did.  You may think you don't have a problem with sugar; after all, you could quit if you wanted to, anytime!

Well then, try it.  You have nothing to lose if you're not sensitive to sugar (a week later if there are no changes you can go right back to your stash - I mean former eating habits) and everything to gain if you are sensitive to sugar: clear mind, freedom from cravings, greater physical wellness & creativity, just for starters.

Go ahead.  I dare you!  Begin now to be the person you were created to be!!


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(click here for the next post on sugar freedom, or here for the first post in my story)

open letter to sugar

Dear unfinished bag of Dove dark chocolate morsels, 
hidden in a little-used cabinet in my kitchen,


If you are feeling neglected, it is because I have forgotten about you.  

I would apologize, but I'm not really sorry.  I know we have had some good times together.  I used to count on you to give me a quick spurt of energy, and I'd come to you for reward or comfort when life was difficult.  I didn't think I could ever live without you.

But you know what?  I have been paying more attention to you lately, and I have found you out for the liar and cheat that you are.  You do give a little energy/comfort/reward ... at first ... but in the end you steal more than you give.

You stole my energy.  You stole my clarity of thought.  You stole my contentment.  You taste good but you are just not worth it.

Once I found you out for who you really are, I just lost my taste for you.  I've found some new foods (namely, protein & complex carbohydrates) that are treating me better than you ever did.

And I think I've found myself again.  

So, good-bye, Dove dark chocolate morsels.  Thanks for nothing.  I'm moving on.

Free at Last,

a recovering sugar junkie


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(click here for the first post in my sugar freedom story, and here for the next post ...)

sugar freedom: day one

(click here for the first post in my sugar freedom story)

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April 30, Monday

[from my post on MOMYS]

Well, last night I had my first nightly potato (a half, actually, fried with onions).  Slept well, dreamy as usual, but woke up very sweaty on my chest and back! Is that related to the potato?!  Journaling my food for day two of Operation Sugar Elimination.

I'm also trying to think through what kind of sugar-free life I want to live, and how much label-checking I want to do.  At the beginning of the year, I went through The Lord's Table free online course and found it to be soooo good.  The course reminded me to turn to God for my emotional needs instead of turning to food, and to focus on God (worship, enjoying his presence, living in the Spirit) instead of focusing on food (reading labels, counting calories, demonizing certain food groups, etc.).  Now, I realize that in this thread we are talking about having a unique sensitivity to sugar, and it looks like I might have that, but I want to keep my focus on God's goodness in my life, learning to eat wisely so that I can live fully for God.

Off to start my day with a protein-y breakfast!

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So started the first week of sugar freedom!  My Farmer is joining me, much to my relief.  I can be pretty stubborn, but I don't know how long I could hold out for sugarfree living if he was eating chocolate-chip cookies in front of me.  Having him making changes alongside of me is an enormous encouragement!

We started on Sunday by having cottage cheese, whole wheat toast and almonds for breakfast instead of granola.  No sugar in the coffee.  We did opt, however, to keep our tradition of having a square (or two, or three) of chocolate with our after-breakfast coffee.  (Now you know - yes, we did eat chocolate for breakfast.)

The big change is going to be in the afternoons, when Sugar, Spice, Everything Nice, and Lil' Snip are all resting (or reading) upstairs, and I am ready for my traditional big sigh of relief accompanied by some good old chocolate.  Or cookies.  Or chips.  Or brownies.  (Now you know - yes, I was in the habit of snacking on mostly junk food many afternoons.)

The rest of the day looked pretty healthy:  almonds and lentil sprouts for a snack, ham and swiss on whole wheat for lunch, turkey frankfurter (I think "frankfurter" sounds healthier than "hot dog", don't you?), popcorn and apple for supper.

And then the potato for a bedtime snack.

According to my food journal, I didn't feel too extraordinary that first day, yet.  I felt heavy-eyed mid-morning (as usual) and needed Zyrtec to keep allergies at bay (I'm sure you don't want a list of my allergy symptoms, but I'm going to give it to you anyway, because it makes their disappearance look all the more spectacular:  sandy, gunky eyes; ferocious sneezing; itchy rash on face, neck, inner elbows & knees; congestion and a drippy nose).  

I did sleep well that night.  Is the potato helping??

[next post]

sugar freedom: the set-up

I'm not sure that my previous posts entirely captured the emotional angst that I've been dealing with.  There have been tired teary days, full of self-pity and hopelessness, echoingly empty of healthy human connection.

I pounded on heaven's door.  No response.

I read the Bible.  Dry as toast.

I took Zyrtec and oil of oregano, and sneezed anyway.

I talked with friends in endless angst-y circles.

I read blogs and only saw glib perfection, victory, or at worst, decorating problems.

And then, my daughter left the freezer door open.  It's a little hard to see a connection, at first; I'll grant you that.  But when God sets about freeing one of His children, He uses whatever material is available to him, and what was available was a forgetful child and a mama just looking for a reason to be furious.

I went online to find out if we had to pitch the entire freezer's worth of food, or if something could be salvaged.  I didn't trust the general population - too cavalier.  I didn't trust the government - too litigation-minded.  Who could I turn to?  [or, "to whom could I turn" for my fellow English majors crippled by years of grammar study, still unable to end a sentence with a preposition.]

I turned to MOMYS, an online forum by and for mothers of little ones, who have answered many a question for me in the last few years, regarding sleep, nutrition, housework, discipline, or pretty much anything.  The MOMYS would know which foods to discard and which could safely be used.

Thus begins my journey out of a pit, to freedom .....

[He makes me lie down in green pastures . . . he leads me beside quiet waters . . . he guides me in paths of righteousness for his Name's sake . . .]

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April 28, Saturday

[from my post on MOMYS]

Wow.  I haven't been on MOMYS for months, and just popped in today to ask about the safety of refreezing partially-thawed frozen foods ... and saw this thread on the benefits* of giving up sugar.  I'm kind of thinking it was God-ordained.

I have had terrible seasonal allergies since I was little, and recently read that eliminating sugar can help.  Frankly, I didn't want to do it.  I've tried everything else and yup, really like my sugar.  But this thread ... I reserved the Potatoes,Not Prozac book from my library, and am considering trying this.  Also attractive is the mental clarity issue - I've really been struggling with depression, anxiety, fear, muddy thinking, etc.  Would LOVE for that to be cleared up, and who couldn't use more energy.  Any effect on libido? (maybe that could get my husband on the bandwagon with me!)

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* benefits some of the MOMYS noticed when they cut sugar from their diets (excerpts from about a dozen different mothers on the sugar thread):

physical:

- no more headaches

- no headache after running errands and dropping off/picking up kids

- greatly reduced joint pain and arthritis

- no more joint pain

- can sleep through the night without tossing and turning, no longer have numbing in my hips

- blood sugar levels stay below 100 (with sugar I am a Type II diabetic)

- chronic yeast problems went away (yeast growth in my inner ear area causes swelling and dizziness when I have sugar)

- no more fatigue 

- more steady energy

- increased energy levels

- generally feeling better and less sluggish

- tons of energy

- no more weight gain
- acne clears up

- no sickness all winter

- my skin is so much nicer (less dark circles under my eyes)

- no more achiness

- less bloating, less gas, less need for nap

- fewer CRAVINGS

- lost 22 lbs since February (cut out most refined carbs)

- When I was a kid I had brain cancer. It was caught early and we used a naturopath who had us taking apricot kernel tincture, alfalfa tablets, and cutting out sugar and white flour. We used honey and occasionally fructose. My sister had leukemia and my mom had colon cancer too. My mom also had ulcerative colitis and had had that since she was 19 years old. We were all 100% healed. 

PMS

- fewer PMS symptoms (irritability, anxiety, sleeplessness, acne, spotting)

- stopped PMS chocolate cravings after about six months (I don't think about chocolate much at all now)

emotional:

- no mood swings

- no more depression or anxiety

- steady moods

mental:

- no more brain fog

- more calm 

- clearer thinking

- able to think clearly while shopping at Wal-Mart (usually feel weak, almost dizzy, after a while, and have to really focus on just getting the things on my list and getting out of there. All the blip noises, the commotion, the stuff everywhere, just seems to overwhelm me)

- less addicted to the internet (There appears to be a relationship between breaking other addictions and quitting sugar. Many testify that they never really kicked their alcohol and nicotine addiction until they also cut sugar and healed that part of their brain that feeds the addictions.)

pregnancy:

- no heartburn while pregnant

- no morning sickness while pregnant

- pregnant, I nap 2-3 hours every afternoon with sugar. Without sugar I can be up at 6:00 AM and to bed at 9:00 PM without a nap.

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If that doesn't whet your appetite (so to speak), well ... it sure did mine.  "No more brain fog"?!  "No more depression or anxiety"?!  No more headaches or fatigue, and "tons of energy"?!!  

Sign me UP!!

Meanwhile, the Farmer and I watched this video from 2011 on YouTube, only to see the local paper quote him a week later.  "Quantum consciousness", as my friend says.  Stay tuned for more on the Sugarfree Frontier!

[next post]

choosing to see

I must have sneezed dozens of times today, violently, and used dozens of tissues.  The insides of my elbows and knees now boast an itchy rash to match the one on my neck.  Since I'm waking up with red, seeping eyes, my contacts are on vacation until further notice, and my glasses, while far more attractive than the 17-year-old fossils they replaced, are rubbing my head where my head is not used to being rubbed.  My throat is raw from what isn't dripping out my nose, and of course no drippy nose would be complete without congestion to go with it.  The thinner skin on my face reacts to all the pollen by becoming puffy, sensitive, itchy, or all three.  Last night's sleep was interrupted not only by my various allergy-related ailments, but also by a terrific episode of RLS (restless legs syndrome:  if you've never heard of it before, be grateful).

In short, I am miserable.

But ... I am choosing my focus, again.

Here's what I saw, today:

tomatoes, ripening

that precious little face

old books, good books

Ginger the cat, and her new kittens

fragrance of paradise:  lemon blossom

farm boots and comfy crocs

sisters, sometimes friends

fresh duck eggs

Spice and her butterfly collection

Spice's nest and egg collection

terrarium made by Sugar

Carolina wren chicks, hatched in our greenhouse, in a bag of peat moss

"Open wide your mouth and I will fill it ... 

... you would be fed with the finest of wheat;

with honey from the rock I would satisfy you."

Psalm 81:10, 16

The beauty is there, and even my tortured eyes can choose to see.  The gifts go on . . .

on "missing out"

I've always had problems with vacations.  Life is interesting to me, and, well, I'm greedy:  I don't want to miss any of it.

"Regular" life is soothing in its monotony.  During the week I have no trouble (well, almost no trouble) taking a nap when I'm tired or skipping some housework that doesn't absolutely need to get done this week (those of you who know me will recognize that as code for "pretty much anything except the white laundry").  But send me off for a few days with friends, and suddenly life is its own caffeine.  I stay up way past my usual stick-in-the-mud bedtime, spend way more time with people than is normally comfortable for me (alone time = processing time for me, and I do need to process), and basically burn the candle at both ends until there is nothing left but a singed wick stub.

I don't want to miss any of it - the conversations, the laughter, the chance to make memories....  and then I go home, spent and exhausted.

I just got back on facebook after deactivating my account for almost four weeks.  It would make an interesting post to say that my life was radically different while I was off, but it would be an exaggeration.  The first day or two I noticed that I was doing things with my children when I might have gotten online and checked out my friends' lives, but after that I guess I formed other routines.  I stopped noticing facebook or its absence in my life.

But today, back on facebook, I began to notice a difference.  I wanted to know what was going on.  Who shared something about their day?  Who's happy today?  Who's sad?  And why?  How could I encourage, cheer on my friends?  What could I share?

I didn't want to miss anything.

The last time I was away with friends for a few days, I learned something.  It's okay to leave the group and take a break, alone with my thoughts.  I come back refreshed, ready to really be with them again, ready to really listen, laugh, cry.  It's okay to be the first one to go to bed, even though all the "good" conversations so often happen late at night.  (Actually, we might be getting old:  the "good" conversations tend to happen on walks in broad daylight, now, or in groups of two or three sitting on the porch.  The late night conversations seem to have longer pauses and more yawns in them every year.)  If I missed anything, I didn't notice.  I think I rather gained, instead.

Back on facebook today, when Nice came to tell me about her drawing, I closed the laptop so that I could look in her eyes and really hear her - even though I hadn't finished typing my comment.

I asked my Farmer if life was any different around here the last four weeks.  He said well, it did seem like you were a little more here, somehow.  A little more available to us.

They are my family.  They come first:  my Farmer, Sugar, Spice, Nice, and Lil' Snip.  I want them to know that not just because I tell them, but because I am here for them, I have time for them.  I look into their eyes when they talk to me instead of murmuring "mm-hmm" while clicking keys.

I don't want to miss anything here.

sometimes, love

Sometimes, at our house, we snap and shove and use mean outside voices.  Sometimes, we are irritated and selfish and resentful.  Sometimes we scheme and exclude and brush each other off.  Sometimes brows are furrowed in discouragement and books are closed too firmly and pencils are sharpened longer than necessary. Sometimes we frown when we could smile, and don't make eye contact, when we could.  Sometimes we cry, and love is hard to see.

Sometimes.

Sometimes, though, I hear a toddler call his sister sweetly, and she leaps up gladly to run to him.

Sometimes the two warring ones sit with heads together, reading fairy poems or "making" cat food.

Sometimes, unexpected, a sister offers to take her cranky brother outside so my Farmer and I can have a whine-less chat.

Sometimes, my eyes are opened, if only for a moment, to see the eternal reality at work in my family.  Training lasts only for a season; love endures forever.

[note to older mothers:  if I am deluded, somehow, please allow me my momentary delusion.  I need it today.]

minutes

It's 8:42 p.m.  In about fifteen minutes, I'll head upstairs to get ready for bed, and by 9:30 (in my ideal world), my head will hit the pillow and I'll drift off to a mother's only vacation:  sleep.

Tomorrow morning I'll get up with my Farmer, approximately half an hour after his alarm rings at 5:20 a.m.  (This is a ten-years' compromise between jump-out-of-bed-at-the-first-ring me and hit-the-snooze-button-a-dozen-times him.)  I'll shower and head downstairs to make coffee, have my first quiet time of the day, and then eat breakfast . . . and another day is off and running.

There's so much the same, day after day.  So little to remark on when someone asks me, "what's new?"  And yet, as a friend reminded me today, it's what we have.  This is the life we've been given, the life we'll look back on one day, in wonder that it was so quickly over.

                    Will I have really lived?

I spend so much time in the past - berating myself for mistakes, shortcomings, regrets - and yet again so much time in the future - planning, worrying, imagining, dreaming.  What about the present?

I wrote out my one thousand gifts.  I do see the present, when I'm thanking.  It's ingratitude that shifts my focus back, or on ahead.

I will make my minutes count:  I will see.  Lil' Snip's twinkling eyes as he learns to make a joke; Nice's beatific smile as she hugs me for no reason; Spice's confident smile, offering to watch Lil' Snip - "he'll be happy after a bit"; even Sugar, crying her disappointment, then laughing over video footage of her beloved little brother.

I will see:  my Farmer, giving up his night out so that I could go (and then both of us happily staying home together); Sugar's knowing eyes as she assures me that I do deny myself for them, and gives examples; Spice's joy to have a doing project instead of a writing one.

I will see:  Nice shyly showing us the motions to a song she learned; Spice delighting in the delicacy of Bible pages; Lil' Snip putting on his sisters' tiara and saying "hansum boy!" to our laughter.

When the end comes, I will have lived.  And, with God's help, my eyes will be open to see all the minutes.

"deactivated"

Well, I did it:  I deactivated my facebook account.

And then I snuck back in on my Farmer's account to see if it worked.  It did.  I am really gone.  As in, even comments that I made yesterday on other people's statuses are just vanished into thin air.  As if I never really did exist.

I feel like a "disappeared" character from George Orwell's 1984 (which I keep saying I want to re-read; now that I'm deactivated maybe I'll have the time to do it).  I kind of expect to hear that someone's read my obituary in a very small newspaper somewhere.

Already I miss the interaction.  Pathetic, I know.  I thought, in the meantime, that I'd keep a record of things that I'm doing during time I might otherwise have spent on facebook, sort of by way of rationalizing my absence (or keeping myself from going back ASAP).

Today, so far, I have weeded flowerbeds, cleared the driveway of sticks with my children, with my son watched a tractor aerate the field, taken a nap, and rearranged my blog layout (moved "what's for supper" down a smidge and got rid of the "one thousand gifts" ongoing list at the bottom since I got to # 999 and quit recording).  And it's not even 3pm yet.....

See, it's good.  I can do this ....


..... right?

uneasy alliance

(or, "an unintended ode to facebook")


Technology and me, we go way back.

I remember my first radio:  a wooden and mustard-yellow plastic Fisher-Price.  You turned a ridged plastic  knob, and music poured forth, accompanied by a picture reel featuring Jack and Jill fetching their pail and, lo! tumbling down a hill.  My favorite part?  The little window in the back where you could see the works turning, precisely-placed metal bumps brushing lyrically against tiny metal fingers.

So why did I pledge today to close out my facebook account?


I like the banter that is possible on facebook, the quick, quirky, back-and-forth between friends (or, say, little sisters).  I like the opportunity to tell the "world" in condensed form what my day is looking like just then, ask for supper ideas, or exclaim about the sunset.  Somehow it helps, if the baby is fussy, to post it on facebook.  Not just for the sympathy, although that's very nice, but just to tell someone about it.

I like the encouragement that people offer - sometimes not who you'd expect!  I like reading about other people's triumphs and struggles..... and voila!

It hits me, just now, exactly why I like facebook so much.

"We read,"  C.S. Lewis is credited as saying, "to know we're not alone."  Facebook accomplishes that in a way that (*gasp* I can't believe I'm about to say this) no book ever quite can. You can read Tolstoy's War and Peace and be thrilled at his apt descriptions of people and relationships:  yes, we're like that!  I am like that!!

But guess what?  Tolstoy, for all his sympathetic understanding of humanity, has been dead for over 100 years.  If he was the only one who really gets it, it's too late in this life to have a heart to heart with him about things.

So you find a contemporary author - take your pick; I like Brennan Manning, or for fiction, Alexander McCall Smith - but what are the chances that their understanding connects you with them in any tangible way?  Slim.

But on facebook, you read, you write, and you see not only that you are not alone, but that other people that you actually know are experiencing some of the same discipline problems with their children, the same joys over jobs finally finished, the same occasional exhilerating days, the same glorying in truth and beauty.

We're us.

And on facebook, away from the hairstyle and wardrobe worries (will I ever look cool enough?), away from the potentially awkward social settings (will I always stick my foot in my mouth?!), just you and me and all our friends out amongst the words, we can see that we're mostly the same.  Just people, who cry and laugh and rage and sleep and worry and love.

But.  This wasn't supposed to be an ode to facebook.  I am still planning to delete my account tomorrow morning (although now I hope I'll be able to open it again someday).

Facebook, for all its delightful qualities, has a dark side.

When I'm on facebook, I'm not on the phone with a friend.  I'm not reading to my children.  I'm not sitting in the hammock (okay, I know I could be, with a laptop....).  When I'm on facebook, I'm not napping.  I'm not catching up with my husband's day.  I'm not reading a good book.  I'm not planning school projects.  I'm not sewing or throwing pots.  I'm not working in my flowerbeds.

In short, when I'm on facebook, I'm not really in my life.

Sooo .... once again, I am taking a break.  And since I am so undisciplined that I have been known to "just check" facebook while I am taking a break from it, I am actually going to delete my account.  And since I just listed all the things that I love about facebook, I am hoping that I will be able to reopen it someday, rather sooner than later.


It's an uneasy alliance we have, me and technology.

photo credit for both to bonanza.com

the last gift

Seven months ago, I started a list. 

Twenty-six pages of my composition book later, I am loathe to end it.  I have listed, in the last 200-some days, nine hundred and ninety-nine gifts:  noticings, lifted up from the ordinary into glowing shafts of gratitude, till their origins are obvious:  they are good and perfect gifts, showered down on me from the Father of lights, gift after gift after gift.

Seeing each gift required a stopping.  A stillness.  A savoring so difficult to come to
in life's swirling current.  Each gift was an island of quiet.  

They didn't come gift-wrapped.  No bows to alert my attention.
Some days I wrote nothing down; I never stopped to see.

Other days, craving more proofs of His love, I'd stop a long while
and write out a dozen or more.  I averaged four or five a day.  

How many did I miss, intent on other things?

: : :

My gratitude goes on, whether the list does, or not.
Maybe I'll just stop at #999, to leave room, always, for one more.

save the storks

Just a quick note to spread the word:  a new movement/business is arising in Dallas (home of Roe v. Wade) to save the lives of unborn children.

It's called Save the Storks and its method is simple - outfit a Sprinter van with sonagram machine, a licensed operator, a counselor, a tidy and attractive interior, and park outside an abortion clinic.  Approach a potential clinic customer with a smile and an offer for a free sonogram.  Provide the service with love, and connect her with Get Involved For Life in order to meet of her pregnancy or quality-of-life needs.  They're prepared to call a cab for her if she needs a ride to the nearest pregnancy center.



Save the Storks is raising money to outfit these vans and then GIVE them to pregnancy centers.  They need our money, yes, but after that, they are going to need our baby clothes, our time, our prayers, our myriad talents, our spare rooms, whatever it takes to care for the moms and babies who need us.


Save the Storks Dallas Bus Story from SavetheStorks on Vimeo.


For more information, check out this article on Save the Storks, or visit their website, www.savethestorks.com.  Give what you can, and spread the word!

The wings of the ostrich flap joyfully, but are her feathers and plumage like the stork's?  She abandons her eggs on the ground and lets them be warmed in the sand.  She treats her young harshly, as if they were not her own, with no fear that her labor may have been in vain.  For God has deprived her of wisdom; He has not endowed her with understanding.   ~Job 39:13-17

on being the "grownup"

Sometimes I forget that I'm a grownup now.  I forget that if life gets too crazy, I don't have to wait for someone to give me permission:  I can slow it down, even stop it.

I don't need to wait for people to exclaim "I don't know how you DO it all!!" in exasperated admiration.  I don't need to wait till I've gained five pounds from eating chocolate trying to stay awake in order to "do it all."  I don't need to wait for my husband to say, "honey, don't you think that's enough?"

I'm a grownup.  (I may not look or act like one, but that's another post).  I can do this pace thing.  I can cut out unnecessary extras.  I can do hard things!

So today, Monday, official "get it all done" day - here that usually means hit the books / housework / laundry at top speed - I didn't.

I took a nap in the morning while Lil' Snip rested and the girls played with the marble machine they made from a PVC pipe, a box, a funnel, and some shoestring.

We played around with "sun-printing" paper instead of doing Real School (well, actually, it was after we finished Real School, but somehow it felt deliciously illicit all the same).

I napped again in the afternoon during Quiet Time.  And then made tea, and a ridiculous number of entries in my gratitude journal while I sat on a step in the sunshine with my mug.

After Quiet Time, since the first attempts at "sun-printing" were noticeably less than stellar, we tried again, patiently watching the sun fade the special paper ... all except where our objets d'art cast their shadows ... we're still waiting for that one to dry.

And now I am cooking hot dogs and baked beans for supper (if that can fairly be called cooking).

And do you know what?  It has happened again.  In trying to "waste" a day, I have accomplished just as much (or as little) as usual, only minus the urgency, the sense of losing control, the frustrated impatience with children, the nagging feeling that I've dropped the most important of the all balls that I'm trying to juggle.

I don't miss any of that.  And I think I found the lost ball.

my son

Oh, Lil' Snip, my heart-walking-outside-of-me . . . .

People ask me what it's like, having a boy now, after three girls.  You defy description.  In answer, I can only offer today, a "now" glimpse of the vast everything that you are:

              

  This morning, you woke up singing "Jesus" in your charming, tuneless way.  When I came to get you up, you greeted me with your mock-serious voice, saying "pee-pee" and patting your jammies in the appropriate spot, then demanding to stand on the windowsill so you could hide behind the window blind before I pulled it up.  

Once dressed and downstairs, you were, as usual, frantic for your breakfast until you had gotten a few bites of granola in your mouth.  You sure wake up hungry!!

At the doctor's office for your well-baby visit, you gave the receptionist a shy smile, cheek to my shoulder, and then proceeded to scream bloody murder when your kindly nurse tried to measure your head, weigh you, and conduct other benign experiments on your person.  But by the time we left, though, you had the whole office staff laughing at your cheeky "see ya!"

You're starting to play more independently - that's a lovely skill, my boy, as long as I can hear what you're getting into.  I should probably move the tractors back down where you can reach them before you become too enamored with your sisters' dollhouse.  And that big stack of puzzles you love to dump, one by one, confident that someone else will put them back together - we're going to give most of them away.

Nobody would have guessed by your behavior that supper tonight was one of your favorite meals.  I was grateful for unbreakable plastic cups, but wishing I'd put earplugs in for your performance.  I think you're starting to catch on to the whole consequence thing, though:  when I told you "no fussing", you answered "bed" and "more", and managed to get yourself under control for a few minutes.

We were all relieved, frankly, when you opted out of dessert in favor of serving tea to the dollies Sugar, Spice, and Nice had set up in the livingroom.  Watching as you poured "hunny" and "moke" into their cups and offered them a "taste!" was well worth letting my own dessert wait.

You did pretty well with my refusal to hold you while I exercised - a few ritual squawks of protest and then you ran off to play with Nice.  I wish my left arm were stronger, but you are getting big!  It was nice to have you snuggle down next to me afterward with a book ... even though you soon climbed down ... and back up ... and back down ....

Thanks for the reminder to "bess" you when I tucked you in, and to sing "Jesus".  That's usually Daddy's job, isn't it?  We got to wave "bye-bye" to him from the window when he headed off to his board meeting.  You'll see him in the morning.  Maybe he'll give you a "dip" of his coffee to taste.

I hope you sleep well, Lil' Snip - and not just because I want to sleep well, too.  Life is so rich for you.  You work so hard; you need your rest.  Tomorrow is coming, and who knows what you might do!