Disclaimer: There is one word that may be offensive in here and it is not a curse word!
Several days ago the weather changed towards the cold side. I pulled out the childrens coats and gave them a wash, making sure that they were clean from when I cleaned them before I put them in the closet. All was well until I decided it was cold enough for me to get my coat out. I avoided doing this until it was absolutely necessary because, facing the thought of freezing wind howling through my sweaters, I though it be best to avoid pneumonia. I headed to the back wall of my closet where I hadn't seen, nor heard, from my wool coat for at least 6 months. I dug deep, and coming up with the heavy, camel colored, wool coat, I saw there was a brown dot on the collar. I thumped it off, thinking it was a bit of lint from the brown sweater in front of it and laid it down on the recliner near my bed. My eyes scanned the wonderful warm and fuzzy coat that I anticipated wearing later that day when I spied a strange trail of naked fabric. The fuzz was gone and you could see where it was missing! What? What? What was that? Was I seeing what I thought I was? Something had eaten the fuzz off my collar! On my coat. My ONLY GOOD COAT! (I have to pause and tell you that I am getting upset as I write this because I STILL can't believe it happened to me!) Was that creature I thumped off my coat responsible for this? No way! But what else could have done this but that thing! What am I going to do? Get it dry cleaned, yes, that's what I'll do. But wait! Look at the stain under the sleeve! That was there from the last dry cleaning so they really stink at dry cleaning here! I can't wash it. It'll turn to wrinkled fluff. I can't wear this anymore! This creature ate' drank, sleeped, peed and pooped in my coat! I can't wear this again! Oh no, I need a new coat and fast. I ran downstairs to explain my dilemma to my daughter and husband and they started laughing at me! Mr said that I'd have to get some mothballs and smell like an old person forever! He also called me neurotic. That is NOT FUNNY!
So, I layered up and went on my merry way, vowing to go back in the closet and vacuum that creature to another dimension later.
That evening, I went back to the closet and found my beautiful Scottish wool scarf that was given to me by my daughter for Christmas last year. It just happened to be on the hanger next to where the offended coat was butchered. I took it out in anticipation of getting it cleaned so I could wear it later in the week. Inspection time!!! I held it up to the light and my eyes couldn't miss the holes that the light was streaming through!! I WAS INSANE WITH ANGER! That was it! This was the last straw and that little,(close your ears my friends, you've never heard this word from my mouth), bastard, had to die! I grabbed a hanger and started beating the clothes in my closet with it. If that thing was there then he was going down! After a few minutes, I gave up and landed on the closet floor to inspect if the offenders body was there. I took everything out and crawled through it from corner to corner. I FOUND NOTHING! You can only imagine how much angrier I was! I was unconsolable with anger! Trust me, I was beside myself when I figured out what state I was in!!
Today I am calm enough to write about it, but if you mention that coat and take my blood pressure, you will see Mt Vesuvius arise again!!
Has this ever happened to you?
An American family who lived in the UK, moved back to Texas, and are trying to reculturalize into America, all whilst simultaneously attempting to survive and thrive while mom tries holding on to her religious beliefs and sanity. Sounds difficult? You bet!
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
Compassion- What in the world?
It all began several months ago when my husband was diagnosed with cancer. He had gone to the Dr for a variety of ailments, but the most prominent one was the blood in his urine. I know I am telling his business, but if there is any man in your life that has this symptom, have them get this checked.
He had a biopsy which confirmed the disease and we have been on the fight against it ever since. On the day he found out, he was coming in the door and I was walking out of it. I asked him what the Dr said about his biopsy and he said to me in a whisper, "I have cancer". I said "Really? No?' and he said "That's what they said."
So that is how we roll at our house. No big announcement. No sitting down to talk about it, just a whispered statement and time to let it sink in. Later on we sat down to a Pow-Wow and had a deep discussion. It took us a few days to tell the children what was going on. We had to be ready for any questions they had at the time and we needed to be prepared ourselves for questioning. As it was, they barely had 10 questions to ask. I guess it all sank in thoroughly.
I had to look at him in a whole new light after that fateful day. Every ache and pain became thoroughly investigated. I tried not to ignore his "Oh,this pain and oh, that hurts." (I was getting REALLY good at that- This man has LOTS of aches and pains!) Each and every day was to be savored more than ever. My heart became softer.(But not too soft though, I don't want to seem "mushy".) We had this appointment and that appointment and finally the decision was made to have the surgery and get it over with. We had already been waiting since the biopsy for a surgery date and it seemed a long way off and our patience was wearing thin. He seems to have more patience than I in certain situations, and I didn't feel like this was a time for patience. Action, swift and decisive was what I wanted and in this country, I wasn't going to get it. Frankly, I haven't been getting many things that I have wanted lately and I guess I have had a sour attitude, but I wasn't showing it (or at least I thought I wasn't- another place where God is working on me!)
Some things you really want to just put in the closet and deal with on a rainy day and this has been one of those situations.
**************************************************
November 19, 2011
My dear husband has had his surgery almost 3 weeks ago and has had his share of complications. We have been back and forth to the hospital emergency room frequently enough for me to know many of the staff on a personal basis. I think that at some point,some of these obstacles to his recovery are mental barriers called pride and ego and those are two hard partners to dance with. I know those two- pride and ego. They make you obnoxious to others, just like the whiff of a skunk in the middle of a fresh breath of air. You almost choke while inhaling!
I don't ever recall asking for two little ones at the same time, Lord, and I think I have done fairly, sorta, okay with them so far. I know I was blessed with them because I had wondered about the sanity of anyone who would double their workload and stress level by choice, and that is what it is, a choice to be a parent. God chooses us and gives us options. Even if we don't get what we want, a child or children, then we have ignored the choices we had before they were conceived and now that they are here, we have the choice to be the best parent to that child that they could ever imagine or be a sorry and pitiful parent who mumbles that they are still angry about that child being here.
How did I get off subject so badly?
I know- MR being at home and under the weather with moments of all out crankiness and dejection combined with the daily care of two little ones has been taxing on me mentally and physically. It's easier to take care of the children then the one man! Most nights I only get around 5-6 hours of sleep and I am so tired and worn out for it all. I could choose to be a cranky and cantankerous wife and mother, spreading my misery throughout my daily travels but I don't want to be remembered that way. I want people to remember me as "That Happy American Woman! I don't hit the mark everyday because of my attitude, but people genuinely know that I care for them.
Off subject again!!
******************************************************
Now I have a bit of compassion. Not a lot, but a sprinkle. My dear Mr has used up most of my compassion these last 3 weeks. I have felt sorry for him and all, but truth be told, my compassion needs a refill. I am tired of examining and apologizing for each hurt pain and boo-boo. Men are very verbal in their pain. Mother Theresa was a saint if she had so much compassion for so many people. Jesus has compassion and grace for every man, woman and child on this earth. I have only a few to care for and I am overwhelmed some days. I see why a retreat is needed to rejuvenate ones soul. I need one soon.
Do you want me to send you a postcard?
He had a biopsy which confirmed the disease and we have been on the fight against it ever since. On the day he found out, he was coming in the door and I was walking out of it. I asked him what the Dr said about his biopsy and he said to me in a whisper, "I have cancer". I said "Really? No?' and he said "That's what they said."
So that is how we roll at our house. No big announcement. No sitting down to talk about it, just a whispered statement and time to let it sink in. Later on we sat down to a Pow-Wow and had a deep discussion. It took us a few days to tell the children what was going on. We had to be ready for any questions they had at the time and we needed to be prepared ourselves for questioning. As it was, they barely had 10 questions to ask. I guess it all sank in thoroughly.
I had to look at him in a whole new light after that fateful day. Every ache and pain became thoroughly investigated. I tried not to ignore his "Oh,this pain and oh, that hurts." (I was getting REALLY good at that- This man has LOTS of aches and pains!) Each and every day was to be savored more than ever. My heart became softer.(But not too soft though, I don't want to seem "mushy".) We had this appointment and that appointment and finally the decision was made to have the surgery and get it over with. We had already been waiting since the biopsy for a surgery date and it seemed a long way off and our patience was wearing thin. He seems to have more patience than I in certain situations, and I didn't feel like this was a time for patience. Action, swift and decisive was what I wanted and in this country, I wasn't going to get it. Frankly, I haven't been getting many things that I have wanted lately and I guess I have had a sour attitude, but I wasn't showing it (or at least I thought I wasn't- another place where God is working on me!)
Some things you really want to just put in the closet and deal with on a rainy day and this has been one of those situations.
**************************************************
November 19, 2011
My dear husband has had his surgery almost 3 weeks ago and has had his share of complications. We have been back and forth to the hospital emergency room frequently enough for me to know many of the staff on a personal basis. I think that at some point,some of these obstacles to his recovery are mental barriers called pride and ego and those are two hard partners to dance with. I know those two- pride and ego. They make you obnoxious to others, just like the whiff of a skunk in the middle of a fresh breath of air. You almost choke while inhaling!
I don't ever recall asking for two little ones at the same time, Lord, and I think I have done fairly, sorta, okay with them so far. I know I was blessed with them because I had wondered about the sanity of anyone who would double their workload and stress level by choice, and that is what it is, a choice to be a parent. God chooses us and gives us options. Even if we don't get what we want, a child or children, then we have ignored the choices we had before they were conceived and now that they are here, we have the choice to be the best parent to that child that they could ever imagine or be a sorry and pitiful parent who mumbles that they are still angry about that child being here.
How did I get off subject so badly?
I know- MR being at home and under the weather with moments of all out crankiness and dejection combined with the daily care of two little ones has been taxing on me mentally and physically. It's easier to take care of the children then the one man! Most nights I only get around 5-6 hours of sleep and I am so tired and worn out for it all. I could choose to be a cranky and cantankerous wife and mother, spreading my misery throughout my daily travels but I don't want to be remembered that way. I want people to remember me as "That Happy American Woman! I don't hit the mark everyday because of my attitude, but people genuinely know that I care for them.
Off subject again!!
******************************************************
Now I have a bit of compassion. Not a lot, but a sprinkle. My dear Mr has used up most of my compassion these last 3 weeks. I have felt sorry for him and all, but truth be told, my compassion needs a refill. I am tired of examining and apologizing for each hurt pain and boo-boo. Men are very verbal in their pain. Mother Theresa was a saint if she had so much compassion for so many people. Jesus has compassion and grace for every man, woman and child on this earth. I have only a few to care for and I am overwhelmed some days. I see why a retreat is needed to rejuvenate ones soul. I need one soon.
Do you want me to send you a postcard?
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