Presence

Ok, so, back to it. Onward and upward. Just because something is hard doesn't mean it's not worthwhile. So, Buying Hiatus, Temperance Mission whatever you want to call it, I need to be responsible and accountable. I don't live a champagne life. Period. Simple. I live a Good Will life.

But I do have an amazing life should I choose to appreciate it. I have wonderful in-laws. A husband who truly loves me and wants what's best for me. A beautiful and bright little girl. I have plenty and beyond. I'm just too stuck up too see it. Or I forget or something. And yes, everyone needs, "something to make the waiting sweeter." But I don't have to be spoiled.

Also, I will do better with pictures...as in, get some. Notice my anorexic arms and fluffy baby. Not so much the case anymore. And don't worry, I'm not anorexic. I was just breastfeeding 20 times a day. No joke. She was a piranha. :) Good thing too because I was always worried she wasn't getting enough. Also no joke.

I want to be present for my kid's life. And read and do things. Have adventures. Live my life. Live my life. I want to connect with my husband. And not just after the kiddo's in bed. Always. While doing chores, while running errands, when sitting in silence. Always.

I think I'm sort of a germ-a-phobe. Which probably means I'm a flaming germ-a-phobe. So I'm gonna try to nip that in the bud (or full blossom). Like, for instance, I don't want to go bowling because I don't want to put my feet into nasty shoes. But I love to bowl. Baby step answer....take old socks and throw them away! Genius. :)

Last but not least, pray for day shift. I'm such a zombie....

Temperance My Ass

:) So, epic fail. I went to the store to buy stuff, and I got a lot of stuff.

Also, and here's the clinker, I spent money we don't even have. We do, because it's in savings, but we don't because it's savings. And I'll pay it off when we get paid, but in the mean time it's a negative balance.... And it's not the first time. But it super stresses me out.

So, most blogs are about actual topics and are written by real (or imagined) experts. Recipe blogs, crafting blogs, health blogs, frugality blogs. Tips and successes! Whoohooo successes!

Yeah, not so much this one. This one is more like a confessional blog. Like, I wish I were into quilting and crafting and cooking and budgeting, but I'm not. And I really don't have any expert advise to provide to anyone. Also, I hate being frugal. I like Starbucks and this really good and really expensive salami I found at the grocery and wine and Jolly Pumpkin beer and dark, dark chocolate. I enjoy my budget busted. It's just how I roll.

But also, I don't, because I want to pay off debt (student loans) and save for the future and save for a house. And in a way, I feel great discouragement because living on one modest salary doesn't allow all of the above. It's either Aldi (and you might say, "But they have wine and dark chocolate!" and I'll promptly reply, "Have you tasted them?") and Good Will or Meijer and American Apparel. And as of late I've chosen the later because I'm tired and need "something to make the waiting sweeter." But it's at the expense of paying off debt and saving. It's hard to motivate myself for such a far off and intangible goal. How can I be happy to drink crappy coffee and eat shitty food while working a very stressful night-shift job and caring for (being able to do nothing to help) my sick husband and doing perpetual laundry and dishes and providing food for my family and all the physical care of a little one. How can everything in life be hard and unenjoyable? And I know that sweet, little, African children have it far worse--they have no parents or food and are mutilated and abused. So, how dare I complain. But I do. I do complain. Because this is not an inspirational blog, it is a real one. And I really do complain. And I really am thankful. Thankful for Simon and our house and my little girl and provision. I just need "something to make the waiting sweeter."

Update

Happy:  New car with better gas mileage (2000 Honda Accord, holla!), plumbers and their backhoes are finally gone!, Christmas is a comin' and the goose is gettin' fat, Vicki's/slave dilemma solved (girls at work threw me a surprise party and got me gift certs!!!--sweethearts), microwave died (no more scary radiation and I didn't have to make that call!).

Sad:  Car payment & a smaller car, shoddy workmanship on the basement waterproofing--still leaks, have to dump 10 gallons of beer, Caribou Slobber tastes like green acid.

The boy continues to fail in health. Boy, that sounds nice, doesn't it? What I want to say is, "The Lord continues to not heal him," with a bitter tongue. But I'm a human and he's a human and how much suffering can one person take? Why, Lord? I don't mean to be an ungrateful and bratty kid, but why not help?! I know he will eventually. But my boy is desperate, on the edge of despair.... And we will continue to love and serve you. God you are wise beyond our wisdom. Also, you love us. This is what I hang my hat on.

Buying Hiatus:  I was all wrong there. It's not that I need to not buy anything. It's that I need to not be a selfish stuff-whore. In buying, as in every other facet of my heart, I want and seek the best for myself. Wrong. I cope with life by getting everything I think I need. I justify and budget shift until I get what I want. Then I'm "happy." But I'm not really. So, the Buying Hiatus is being revamped and renamed:

Temperance Mission. In all things, temperance. Contentment and patience. I need a garlic press, wait to find one at Good Will, right? Not research the best and have to have it. I used to be rich--rich people buy only the best. Now I'm poor. Poor in spirit. And I can be truly grateful. Thanksgiving (the literal holiday, the the verb) opened my eyes. I was sad and disheartened. No thankfulness in my heart for any material thing. But an overwhelming thankfulness for people. For my husband and my daughter. For my parents-in-law and coworkers. People matter. Things don't. It's true. And when that's true, the dollar store Christmas-tree skirt you're given is perfect and amazing. And holding your feverish daughter is gift. And grape-flavor Tylenol is just right.

So, Temperance Mission.

And I can't say that I'm not thankful, in a bazaar way, for our suffering because it changes me. In a good way. Even though I brink on bitterness.

Hard

To be alive. To struggle. To fight and lose. Consistently. By degrees. To lose a little. And a little. And a little. But to remain alive. Is this life? Our slow death? We constantly fight to improve and grow and gain strength and wealth, to find time. We can't be dying from the time of birth, because all our hopes and dreams are born with us. But in our growth we lose. Gain and lose. And then at some point just lose. And what does it mean for us when the growing stops? Or maybe it doesn't. Not really. But at some point the losing overwhelms the growth. And death wins. The grave swallows us. And not our souls. But our bodies for sure. And not forever, but certainly for real. The moment of death, the transcription of ourselves--from one form into another. Or maybe not. Maybe we are immediately just as we always should have been. Human bodies, souls untouched by sin. But where are we? And where are we with regard to all who are left still dying? Parallel universes?

Sad. Broken hearted. Crushed in spirit. How much suffering is too much? Uncle, right? Uncle, Lord.