So, the buying hiatus is going well. I've resisted temptation on all fronts. My blessed mother-in-law did give me 50 bucks in an envelope saying, "I never get you anything, go buy yourself something." So I did drop that like it was hot. But it doesn't count. You can't put every damn penny on debt. Besides, in two years when debt is gone, there'll be no money for spending because a loaf of bread will be 20 bucks (or, for all the DIYers, 5 pounds of flour will be 60!) and a tank of gas $150. Am I optimistic or what?! But it's true.
So, I bet you're dying to know what I bought?
The suspense killing you?
Well, I blew it all on beer. And beer paraphernalia. I got a tee from a local "American Public House." That's what the shirt really says. How cool is that? And one Hoptimum and one Fat Head Oktoberfest (for Simon) and we split what I thought was a Left Hand beer with hazelnut and apricot, but I can't remember the name or find it on their website, so the Hoptimum may have done it's job. Also, I got a special edition Jolly Pumpkin saison--iO Red Saison. Sooooooooooo excited about that. It's been cellared for my birthday (in our super cool cellar called a refrigerator). And Taza chocolate.
Amazing how fast $50 can go. :) It was the best day ever. Oh, did I mention, my saintly mother-in-love took the kid for three hours. So that whole time of buying bliss me and the mister had each other all to ourselves. :)
House search. Well, we're going to see two on Wednesday. Nothing too promising, but who knows. We're almost ready to buy anything at all.
*Funny Story: So, I'm in the kitchen peeling ridiculous eggs--losing half the whites, and making toast. The kid has been crying since she got into her chair for lunch because A) she fell asleep 15 minutes before we got home from our walk (5 minutes ago) and should not be awake right now and B) I'm not holding her. So, Simon's at the table "buttering" (because we really use coconut oil) the toast that's already done. You have to understand. We have a very small dining area. Because it is also our study. Also, it is the only carpeted area in the whole house. Seriously. F-ing dummies. Anywho, out of the corner of my eye, as I'm chipping away at these eggs, I see toast fly. Then I hear mumbling and a moderately concealed "fuck" (mind you, I've heard my husband cuss like maybe twice) and see a purple balloon get whipped across the room followed by more toast and a couple of red crocs. Apparently he tripped on something. Ohmygosh, I still can't stop laughing. Funnier still: the kid's been randomly stumbling around the house saying, "Oh, oh, ohoh, oh." :) Priceless.
I think if maybe a good sized tent became available we might avail ourselves.
9.25.2012
9.20.2012
Wednesday Tuesday
So, all day Tuesday I was thinking it was Wednesday. It just seemed like a Wednesday I suppose.
So, anyway, Tuesday. What a day. Wow. The kid was possessed. She cried, quite literally, all day long. I thought by the end of it she must be sick or in pain. But I really don't think she was. She did say her knee hurt, but she also has a bruise on it and she tells us those hurt so we kiss them. Also, if you have a bruise or a wound (or a zit on your face) she'll say, "Ooooooo, ooooooo," and point to it and give it a kiss. :) So, she cried all day. And usually when she cries I can say, "What's wrong." And she'll tell me or mime it to me or in some way communicate the problem. Tuesday, no. Tuesday she just looked away and kept on crying.
No idea.
Except maybe she was growing mentally. Because she all of a sudden, that night, started saying things like, "I can't reach it," and "No, I need you." Versus the usual gesturing and whining.
We were supposed to bottle beer Tuesday, but by the end of the whine fest, we were both so whipped, we just crashed. So we've settled on Friday.
So, yesterday, I folded and put away 5 loads of laundry. Never in a million years would I have ever believed myself capable of washing and not folding or putting away so much laundry. I would have had a conniption. I sort of like the new slacker me. :)
I'm really wanting donuts and Fruity Pebbles. Not together. But they keep popping up in my mind. And cream of wheat.
I don't think there's really anything of substance in my mind tonight. I'm going to go read now.
Hugs and kisses.
And Nosferatu. Just drink it. Preferably on tap with your lover.
So, anyway, Tuesday. What a day. Wow. The kid was possessed. She cried, quite literally, all day long. I thought by the end of it she must be sick or in pain. But I really don't think she was. She did say her knee hurt, but she also has a bruise on it and she tells us those hurt so we kiss them. Also, if you have a bruise or a wound (or a zit on your face) she'll say, "Ooooooo, ooooooo," and point to it and give it a kiss. :) So, she cried all day. And usually when she cries I can say, "What's wrong." And she'll tell me or mime it to me or in some way communicate the problem. Tuesday, no. Tuesday she just looked away and kept on crying.
No idea.
Except maybe she was growing mentally. Because she all of a sudden, that night, started saying things like, "I can't reach it," and "No, I need you." Versus the usual gesturing and whining.
We were supposed to bottle beer Tuesday, but by the end of the whine fest, we were both so whipped, we just crashed. So we've settled on Friday.
So, yesterday, I folded and put away 5 loads of laundry. Never in a million years would I have ever believed myself capable of washing and not folding or putting away so much laundry. I would have had a conniption. I sort of like the new slacker me. :)
I'm really wanting donuts and Fruity Pebbles. Not together. But they keep popping up in my mind. And cream of wheat.
I don't think there's really anything of substance in my mind tonight. I'm going to go read now.
Hugs and kisses.
And Nosferatu. Just drink it. Preferably on tap with your lover.
9.17.2012
When you're no longer a productive member of society, what are you?
Heard a great Sara Groves song on the radio yesterday morning on the way home from work: Eyes on the Prize. I cried. Came home, showed it to Simon and we cried together. So fitting for life right now. It's a good song.
He's so tired. So worn thin. When do we get help? When does God intervene? It's not human help we need. We get the things done we need to. But how long can someone just get worse. How can you live in so much physical pain for so long? With no end in site and never any reprieve? Do you just suffer until death? But with no death in site? I know it sounds morbid. It is.
And we have our bright little A. And honestly, I don't know how much hope we'd have without her. We sure would have a lot more time together, but it's weird how we didn't enjoy each other so much pre A. I crave time with Simon now. Crave it. Just a date. A couple of hours at the bar or coffee shop. Just to look at each other and be, together. It's weird how having a kid makes time together so rare but so gratifying. And life is unbelievably harder since having a kid, but not necessarily in a bad way. And no one can tell you how your life gets better with a kid--it expands your heart and mind and life. And the joy you get from the funny way they say a word or a mannerism, immeasurable.
We don't have the same sort of life as a family with all healthy people would. I'm not complaining, and I wouldn't change it. Because our values have changed, and what's truly important has crystallized. And productivity is worthless. And Christ and grace have become paramount. And that is beautiful no matter how hellish the rest is.
But sometimes you feel judged and sometimes you are.
He's so tired. So worn thin. When do we get help? When does God intervene? It's not human help we need. We get the things done we need to. But how long can someone just get worse. How can you live in so much physical pain for so long? With no end in site and never any reprieve? Do you just suffer until death? But with no death in site? I know it sounds morbid. It is.
And we have our bright little A. And honestly, I don't know how much hope we'd have without her. We sure would have a lot more time together, but it's weird how we didn't enjoy each other so much pre A. I crave time with Simon now. Crave it. Just a date. A couple of hours at the bar or coffee shop. Just to look at each other and be, together. It's weird how having a kid makes time together so rare but so gratifying. And life is unbelievably harder since having a kid, but not necessarily in a bad way. And no one can tell you how your life gets better with a kid--it expands your heart and mind and life. And the joy you get from the funny way they say a word or a mannerism, immeasurable.
We don't have the same sort of life as a family with all healthy people would. I'm not complaining, and I wouldn't change it. Because our values have changed, and what's truly important has crystallized. And productivity is worthless. And Christ and grace have become paramount. And that is beautiful no matter how hellish the rest is.
But sometimes you feel judged and sometimes you are.
9.06.2012
La Grippe Ah Ha
So, consumption. Curious that. My need to get new stuff. It's like an obsession. Which is weird because I don't buy a lot of stuff. I just want a lot of stuff all the time. But the stuff I want changes, but I think about it all the time. It's like between whole foods and new stuff I keep my head busy enough to not be restless. But it's so damn boring and un-fun and not creative. A slow and continual lulling of life to sleep. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
:|
I don't really have anything philosophical to say about consumption except the excess here is gross and unwarranted. I'm going on a buying hiatus. No new stuff for a year. Wow. I just scared myself. And get the grocery budget in gear. The only luxuries will be good coffee, good beer, and good chocolate. Everything else goes rock bottom. (Also, we need a new car and are looking for a house, so even though those seem like deal breakers, they actually don't count. Nice when you make up your own rules.)
Hmmmm. Wow. I really don't want to do a buying hiatus. But I do. Be more intentional. Live out my passions; not buy stuff made by sex slaves; not fritter away my life by keeping my head out of the game.
...
So, my boy. I'd really like to talk more about his life and struggles here. I'm not sure how to work it all in. It's like a 200 page book of Hu Flung Pu. So I'll start now and work back I guess. A reverse chronology.
S is 35 years old. He's got sandy blond hair, pretty good looking face. But seriously, he's a stud. Oh, but I was telling you about heath and stuff. So, actually 2011 was a good year--diagnosis of Small Fiber Neuropathy, and we found a bunch of really great friends. Simon was able to stop scrambling and start to face all the destruction being chronically sick and debilitated created over the past 20 or so years. Doesn't sound great, but it was great. Lots of emotional pain and regrouping from realizing you've lost not only function and time and money, but huge pieces of yourself along the way. And being left with uncontrolled pain screaming in your face all day long. But good because it's very good to know your enemy. And very, very good to have friends.
So, we'll leave it at that for now. My buddy is a sick-o. But he's got me! And A! So at least he's got that going for him. ;)
:|
I don't really have anything philosophical to say about consumption except the excess here is gross and unwarranted. I'm going on a buying hiatus. No new stuff for a year. Wow. I just scared myself. And get the grocery budget in gear. The only luxuries will be good coffee, good beer, and good chocolate. Everything else goes rock bottom. (Also, we need a new car and are looking for a house, so even though those seem like deal breakers, they actually don't count. Nice when you make up your own rules.)
Hmmmm. Wow. I really don't want to do a buying hiatus. But I do. Be more intentional. Live out my passions; not buy stuff made by sex slaves; not fritter away my life by keeping my head out of the game.
...
So, my boy. I'd really like to talk more about his life and struggles here. I'm not sure how to work it all in. It's like a 200 page book of Hu Flung Pu. So I'll start now and work back I guess. A reverse chronology.
S is 35 years old. He's got sandy blond hair, pretty good looking face. But seriously, he's a stud. Oh, but I was telling you about heath and stuff. So, actually 2011 was a good year--diagnosis of Small Fiber Neuropathy, and we found a bunch of really great friends. Simon was able to stop scrambling and start to face all the destruction being chronically sick and debilitated created over the past 20 or so years. Doesn't sound great, but it was great. Lots of emotional pain and regrouping from realizing you've lost not only function and time and money, but huge pieces of yourself along the way. And being left with uncontrolled pain screaming in your face all day long. But good because it's very good to know your enemy. And very, very good to have friends.
So, we'll leave it at that for now. My buddy is a sick-o. But he's got me! And A! So at least he's got that going for him. ;)
9.05.2012
Holy Health-Nut Rant, Batman! aka Thankfulness
So, the kiddo turned 2. Wow. Amazing. I've been very heart-y about it. Not in a bad way, just really loving and appreciating that girl. :) She had an amazing birthday--2 hours at the park with her buds, a party with the fam, a kitchen set, a bike!, a tutu (that she adores), and many other toys and a boatload of clothes (her grandparents spoil her rotten). We are blessed.
So, cutest thing ever: While listening and dancing to Tiny Dancer, A turns to me when Elton says, "ballerina" and points to her chest and says, "me" with the sweetest little smile and brightest eyes and her little head nodding. :)
So, I was kinda dragging my feet with the whole sterilization thing. You have to make it sound as bad as possible and call it sterilization. Tubal, Essure, tubes tied--these are all too innocent and nice sounding. Anyway, I was dragging my feet. It's a hard decision. I wish I didn't have to make it. But I've made up my mind. I know it sounded like I made up my mind before. But I guess I hadn't totally. But I have now. My lovie-butt is doing bad. B-A-D bad. I can't put him through all that again. Don't get me wrong--the kid is awesome, but physically kids are not something S can swing. He loves 'em, but you can only do what you can do. And I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have my little A. And my S.
So, I've switched to liquid Castile soap for pretty much everything except laundry detergent and I know there's a cheap/Dugger way to make that stuff. I'm trying to simplify life as much as possible. Live as cheaply and as easily as possible. Buy as much premade stuff as possible while keeping certain standards and not going broke.
And I was thinking. Thinking about all this homemade, old-school, non-GMO shit we've all swallowed and wondering if it's all just a crazy fad. Like, what if pesticides don't hurt you? What if it's better that starving Chinese people have a hearty rice crop that doesn't die with drought or from infestation? What if science is good? What if the modern science is a conspiracy premise is a conspiracy? Hmmmmm? We know it's not true that organic foods have more vitamins and minerals than their pesticide-filled (tongue is firmly in cheek) counterparts. Though organic proponents say otherwise (lie about it). Also, borax is a pesticide. A dangerous one--can hurt you if you ingest it. And having it in your house raises your exposure to pesticides about as much as eating non-organic food. All things become poison in too great a quantity--food even. Even pure, organic, whole foods. Too much fruit and your GI goes poop crazy. Too much protein and your body chemistry is thrown out of whack. There is this idea that older is better. But is it? Is it just different? Is it better that women and children died all the time because there were no hospitals and medications to stop bleeding, detect fetal distress? Better that you had to make all your food from scratch, spend all your life working to survive. We work to survive now, well, half of us do (bitterness?). But not in the same way. Our concerns are far fewer. We work and then our work comes to an end. We don't have to physically slave all day from sun up to sun down. We have time to play with our children to rest in our loved ones arms. And we are a rich and lush country--in Africa they slave to survive, not us. Most people don't have the luxury of being so fussy about their food and what they will and will not put into their bodies.
And plastic. Plastic is wonderful. It is not evil. How is it worse than glass or metal? None break down in a landfill, all take energy to make, all pollute. If anything, our biggest sin is excess. We can skirt around the issue and blame refined flours and GMOs and plastic and vaccines, but it is our consumption that is disgusting. And the fact of the matter is that America is still a pretty great place. Because people come to our hospitals and doctors (for our science) from around the world when their children and parents are sick. And we have a great life expectancy. And any Ugandan would spit on us to see our pooh-poohing of perfectly good and nutritious food. And we don't have slave-labor or reject anyone the medical care they need. I read an article a long time ago in National Geographic about societies who live a long time (And that's another thing, why the f are we so concerned with our diet and health? If you're not 400 pounds and smoking crack, you're probably doing pretty well for yourself. What is the point? We all get old, we all die of something. And don't say quality of life because I work in a hospital and there are "healthy" sick people and "sick" sick people and healthy people aren't excessive and entitled and sick people generally are, but everyone still eats at McDonald's once in a while. So what's the point? Do you really want to live to be 100? Is that the greatest accomplishment you can’t think of?). Anyway, in this article, when an old lady was asked how to live a long and happy life, she answered, "Be thankful." And there was a picture of her and she was holding her husband's hand and was smiling and there was happiness in her face. And I don't say any of this to judge. I'm saying this to myself. Because I waste my life thinking about things that don't matter. And miss looking into my daughter's eyes and dancing with her and holding Simon's hand because I think somehow it's better for us that we eat no process food, and all the planning and thinking and work that goes into it wastes my life which technically isn't mine to begin with.
And then there is this gluttonous consumption of stuff. Which I will address next time. Because I'm sure I've lost everyone by now. :)
So that's the scoop. How amazing would it be to get as much joy from a Wonder Bread P.B. & J. as from a free-range roast and organic vegetables and hot, home-made, whole grain, sourdough bread with fresh butter? How it could set your mind free. Thankfulness.
*Note: These rants are for and to myself and not meant to condemn anyone.
So, cutest thing ever: While listening and dancing to Tiny Dancer, A turns to me when Elton says, "ballerina" and points to her chest and says, "me" with the sweetest little smile and brightest eyes and her little head nodding. :)
So, I was kinda dragging my feet with the whole sterilization thing. You have to make it sound as bad as possible and call it sterilization. Tubal, Essure, tubes tied--these are all too innocent and nice sounding. Anyway, I was dragging my feet. It's a hard decision. I wish I didn't have to make it. But I've made up my mind. I know it sounded like I made up my mind before. But I guess I hadn't totally. But I have now. My lovie-butt is doing bad. B-A-D bad. I can't put him through all that again. Don't get me wrong--the kid is awesome, but physically kids are not something S can swing. He loves 'em, but you can only do what you can do. And I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have my little A. And my S.
So, I've switched to liquid Castile soap for pretty much everything except laundry detergent and I know there's a cheap/Dugger way to make that stuff. I'm trying to simplify life as much as possible. Live as cheaply and as easily as possible. Buy as much premade stuff as possible while keeping certain standards and not going broke.
And I was thinking. Thinking about all this homemade, old-school, non-GMO shit we've all swallowed and wondering if it's all just a crazy fad. Like, what if pesticides don't hurt you? What if it's better that starving Chinese people have a hearty rice crop that doesn't die with drought or from infestation? What if science is good? What if the modern science is a conspiracy premise is a conspiracy? Hmmmmm? We know it's not true that organic foods have more vitamins and minerals than their pesticide-filled (tongue is firmly in cheek) counterparts. Though organic proponents say otherwise (lie about it). Also, borax is a pesticide. A dangerous one--can hurt you if you ingest it. And having it in your house raises your exposure to pesticides about as much as eating non-organic food. All things become poison in too great a quantity--food even. Even pure, organic, whole foods. Too much fruit and your GI goes poop crazy. Too much protein and your body chemistry is thrown out of whack. There is this idea that older is better. But is it? Is it just different? Is it better that women and children died all the time because there were no hospitals and medications to stop bleeding, detect fetal distress? Better that you had to make all your food from scratch, spend all your life working to survive. We work to survive now, well, half of us do (bitterness?). But not in the same way. Our concerns are far fewer. We work and then our work comes to an end. We don't have to physically slave all day from sun up to sun down. We have time to play with our children to rest in our loved ones arms. And we are a rich and lush country--in Africa they slave to survive, not us. Most people don't have the luxury of being so fussy about their food and what they will and will not put into their bodies.
And plastic. Plastic is wonderful. It is not evil. How is it worse than glass or metal? None break down in a landfill, all take energy to make, all pollute. If anything, our biggest sin is excess. We can skirt around the issue and blame refined flours and GMOs and plastic and vaccines, but it is our consumption that is disgusting. And the fact of the matter is that America is still a pretty great place. Because people come to our hospitals and doctors (for our science) from around the world when their children and parents are sick. And we have a great life expectancy. And any Ugandan would spit on us to see our pooh-poohing of perfectly good and nutritious food. And we don't have slave-labor or reject anyone the medical care they need. I read an article a long time ago in National Geographic about societies who live a long time (And that's another thing, why the f are we so concerned with our diet and health? If you're not 400 pounds and smoking crack, you're probably doing pretty well for yourself. What is the point? We all get old, we all die of something. And don't say quality of life because I work in a hospital and there are "healthy" sick people and "sick" sick people and healthy people aren't excessive and entitled and sick people generally are, but everyone still eats at McDonald's once in a while. So what's the point? Do you really want to live to be 100? Is that the greatest accomplishment you can’t think of?). Anyway, in this article, when an old lady was asked how to live a long and happy life, she answered, "Be thankful." And there was a picture of her and she was holding her husband's hand and was smiling and there was happiness in her face. And I don't say any of this to judge. I'm saying this to myself. Because I waste my life thinking about things that don't matter. And miss looking into my daughter's eyes and dancing with her and holding Simon's hand because I think somehow it's better for us that we eat no process food, and all the planning and thinking and work that goes into it wastes my life which technically isn't mine to begin with.
And then there is this gluttonous consumption of stuff. Which I will address next time. Because I'm sure I've lost everyone by now. :)
So that's the scoop. How amazing would it be to get as much joy from a Wonder Bread P.B. & J. as from a free-range roast and organic vegetables and hot, home-made, whole grain, sourdough bread with fresh butter? How it could set your mind free. Thankfulness.
*Note: These rants are for and to myself and not meant to condemn anyone.
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