Houses and Hearts

I can see that I struck a chord (or hit a nerve?) in sharing about my FSS.  Sometimes I wonder if I go too far in putting the details of our (not-so-pretty) lives out there for all the world (or the handful of you who read this stuff!) to see.  There is motivation in it, though, in that one day I'm going to put pictures up of the progress we've been able to make. "The Eye of the Tiger" is playing over and over in my mind for some reason.  It makes me feel strong. Tonight will be brief, because I have enough dishes to wash by hand that it looks like I fed Cox's army-they were set aside last night in order to tackle some of those surfaces!  But I must get to them tonight.  I also want to keep going on my mission.  But first I wanted to share one of the reasons I was nudged into action; you may want to get a box of tissues ready. I like to blog-hop.  I read random blogs every now and then, and a few blogs very regularly.  I enjoy seeing what other people are up to, making up voices for writers I don't actually know, knowing I'm not the only mom/wife out there who is trying hard and not always getting it right or done.  Plus, there are some really funny people out there, and I love to laugh. One of the bloggers I visit is a Compassion International sponsor.  We sponsor two children through World Vision, but I think they are similar organizations as far as their goals for meeting needs as well as sharing the Gospel and offering hope both here and now, as well as eternally.  Compassion International has had teams of bloggers going out and "reporting" back on their experiences, giving a great deal of exposure to the situations they are dealing with/trying to make better, as well as to the sweet, beautiful faces all around the world of those who are suffering in poverty but are living joyfully because of their hope in the Lord.  Back to the blogger I like to visit...she has a link in one (probably a couple) of her posts to the Compassion bloggers' website, which then links you to personal websites of the folks who went on any given trip.  The link I'm sharing here is to a woman who went to India, and her story, and more significantly the story of the girl she meets, is compelling, touching, heart-breaking, and inspiring.  Please take a minute to read this post. When I read that, I was stunned, shamed, and chastened.  I have complained about our homes, especially the last three, because they did not meet my standards in various ways.  I have spent countless hours watching T.V. (when we lived in Louisville, because Mike traveled a lot, the kids went to bed early, and it was company), reading (when we first moved to Texas, because I was depressed and wanted to escape into the world of Les Miserables, The Princess Bride, The Brothers Karamozov, and The Secret Garden), and cruising around the internet as well as keeping up our blog.  The hours spent doing all of these things could have been spent managing my home, preparing for school lessons, preparing to move, unpacking boxes-depending on whatever our situation was at a particular time.  I always apologize to whomever comes knocking at our door, invited or uninvited, because it is always a disaster.  There are pajamas left on the floor; breakfast dishes on the table; magazines, toys, books, papers, and really random stuff on the coffee table or the end table in the living room.  These are habits that should be easy to change but somehow I haven't done it.  I am teaching my children the wrong way to live in and take care of a home for they will undoubtedly follow my example rather than my verbal directions if there is a discrepancy between the two.  And there is. I don't want to beat myself up, because I know that won't help.  Instead I want to change, to be a good steward of what we have, and to have a home that honors the One who provided it for us.  The One who has always provided for us.  The One who gives such joy and humility to those who are already humble that they can give their guests the best that they have to offer with no shame. Now when [Jesus] saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them saying: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:1-10 (So much for being brief!  And I didn't even touch on the whole subject of ministering to those in need...)

FSS

One of the many conditions from which I suffer is FLAT SURFACE SYNDROME. Does this affliction plague anyone else?  The symptoms manifest themselves in a variety of ways, but always include items that belong somewhere in particular, but end up on top of a flat surface which is not the actual somewhere that they ought to go. And there they remain for an indefinite but definitely too long period of time.  Most likely they remain because it is easy to leave the items in their present though incorrect location.  There are distractions which lead those suffering from this condition in other directions, in order to tend to more urgent things.  There are the daily tasks which must get done, like dishes or laundry or bathing the children, and so the items remain aliens in a strange land, pilgrims on a long journey that seems like it will never end. These things do have homes, though.  And I am determined to help them find their rightful places and bring peace and harmony to our house as things are set to right. There are the mild cases...

and there are the extreme scenarios...

We have bookshelves...

tables...

 

and countertops...

(The two above examples fall into the extreme category, because they are both hiding behind something else and therefore not prominent, making it even easier to ignore the items; here I would like to enter a plea of unpacking incompetence, by which I cannot be charged guilty in the true sense of the word, and through which I may buy myself a little sympathy as well as time.) These areas are always a source of great irritation, but they can also be an interesting study in human psychology.

How does one end up with a dead cell phone, a watch, a remote control, a lid to a sauce pan, a coaster, a change sorter, some earrings, some Stitch Witchery, and a little Mexican hat all in the same spot?  Don't forget the lotion and the baseball cards. I'll tell you how...it's the path of least resistance.  Or the easy way out.  Or the lazy alternative to following through and putting things where they belong.  It is unusual in that this is both a key cause and symptom of FSS and is almost impossible difficult to treat in many cases. I will be honest with you.  I waffle daily, hourly even, between feeling terminal, hopeless, incurable, and feeling as though a big change were coming, the time is ripe, the time is now for a new way of living.  Tonight I'm feeling the change.  I'm motivated.  I've already got one surface cleared off, and I'm working on a second. I think I'll go with it!  I'll strike while the iron is hot!  I'll make hay while the sun shines!  I'll just do it!  I'll see how many clichés I can use in a single post. Wish me happy putting-things-away!  (We know how this often turns out, as represented by my putting-away-clean-laundry problem...so I really need support here, folks.)

Before, After, and Some Other Stuff, Too

I can't believe it has been one whole week since my mom left.  I miss her being here so much.   And not just because she was so busy getting stuff done!   Dad, I miss you, too.  And I sure wish you were closer. I want to return to the subject of our unpacking.   I know, it's so interesting.  I can feel that you are on the edge of your seats because it is unbelievably fascinating to see all of our brown boxes.   I bet there are a lot of questions, like,"What's in that big one?" or "How can socks end up with a mug, a chalkboard, a fancy train car, and tie-on cushions for chairs?" or "Does she know that if one more box goes on top of that pile it will fall?" The real question is,"How can they still have so many boxes to unpack?"   Do you know what's left?  A lot of papers.  And toys.  Papers and toys-all of which have not been missed so I can just toss them, right?   Oooh, and electronics paraphernalia.   That stuff is Mike's department, though. Are you waiting for me to get to a point?   Well, good luck with that.  Just kidding...here it is.  I want to show you the results of my mom's hard work.   She is the champion of the HWF (House Wrestling Federation), having taken on this behemoth of a project and come away unscathed. Here is a series of before and after shots... literally, in one corner- and she got it down to three boxes or so. Then there was this corner... and again, down to about three boxes (this is a lot of the wirey, tech stuff-oh, Mi-ike, where are you?). She made a walkway here; the pictures don't do her job justice.  The boxes went from the wall where the built in bookshelf is over to our sofa which is floating in the middle of the room. "Why are there baby shoes in with the dried garlic?" Ah, the schoolroom...a really effective learning environment, no? You say no?   Well, this is better, isn't it? And here is one of my masterful towers.  She had the nerve to remove it. Cock-a-doodle-do, good morning to you.  A much nicer greeting when we eat breakfast (or any meal for that matter). Yes, my putting-away-clean-laundry problem remains a problem. She helped me put it away, and get stuff folded when it came out of the dryer.  Mom, I could hire you.  Now will you move to Dallas?  Dad, I can hire you too.  We need someone to cut the grass and watch the kids and wash the dishes.  We have plenty of work for you all.  Send me your resumés ASAP and I will get back to you very soon. There are many things that I don't have a picture of, but I hope I have conveyed just a bit how much she helped us.

TOP TEN REASONS WE NEED GRANDPARENTS IN TOWN

#1  They always want to see what you did in school.

#2  They will tickle you.

#3  You can tickle them.

#4  They help find missing toys.

#5  They cheer for your soccer team.

#6  They are sew special. They always have a fun project to do.

#7  They share their slippers.

#8  They love midnight snuggles.

#9  They get to go to your birthday party.

#10 They go through all of the random stuff that was thrown together at the last minute when you moved, sort it, and help to put it away in a proper place.

There are a million more reasons why I would love for our families to be closer, my parents, Mike's parents, siblings, cousins, and all.  But I am so grateful for how close we are in spite of the miles between us.  Our homes may be separated by many, many states, but our hearts are connected by a bond that somehow bridges that distance.

Tunnel Vision

Well, here it is quarter 'til midnight, and I'm sitting at the computer because then my back is turned to the DISASTER LURKING BEHIND AND ALL AROUND ME. There, that feels better.  No secrets here.  Everything out in the open. And when I say everything, I mean everything.  Like all of the boxes that we moved from the old house (that is a slight exagerration-a lot of the kitchen boxes were unpacked right away.  But everything else...lurks).  And all of our towels because I haven't been able to get the bathroom shelves clean yet.  And the toys.  And the books.  And the clothes that have not made their way into closets, dressers, or armoires (for the record, moving has not solved my clean-laundry-problem; you could read about that elsewhere on this blog if ever your heart desired to be informed of such a thing).  There is a tripod keeled over right behind me.  I need to put that away before it is broken (I'm sure we have no use for a bi-pod).  There is a cute little lamp peeking out from behind some boxes, waiting to be perched somewhere, in order to offer a tiny spot of light.  There is a broken doll table I've been meaning to fix for a couple of months now; it survived the move without further damage.   There are garbage bags of toys that were hiding beneath furniture over there.  Bathroom boxes, plastic Easter eggs, shoes. My kitchen is cleaned up, though. See, I have to keep telling myself,"Look at what you did do."  Otherwise, I would be so sad.  The regular, everyday stuff takes so much time.  And I am not even managing to get those things done well, either.  It can make a person feel...inadequate. Then there is a rush of folks saying,"Don't be so hard on yourself!  Look at what's going on all around you!  You have so much on your plate!" I wish I had a piece of chocolate cake on my plate; how about that? I know there is a lot going on.  Mike is busting his buns to get everything out of our old house and over here, as well as helping get this house clean (which, if you know me, you can understand what a ridiculous task that is-I know I make things complicated...but that's me).  I'm trying to keep Eliana out of the bucket of cleaning water while cleaning shelves (this house has three thousand built-in bookshelves, and I want to clean them all-that takes time, you know?), feed Michaela, because she wants to eat something small six times a day (who told her about that eating plan, anyway?), play games with Christian while Eliana naps in the afternoon so that he gets some attention and has a positive thing to do... I feel like normal people can do all these things while unpacking, redecorating, organizing, gardening, grocery-shopping, planning and cooking large and nutritious meals, making meals for the folks in the community or church who are in need, remembering all the things they need to do for the stuff going on at their kids' school, getting the laundry done and put away, feeding the homeless, teaching their children good manners, cleaning the toilet regularly, ironing the clothes, picking up the dry cleaning (on the way to the grocery store, because these people are efficient), mending the holes in pants and socks, building a new coffee table and headboard in their spare time, and painting their toenails on top of all that. Um, did I brush my teeth today?  Yes!  I did do that. I know that there is a light at the end of that tunnel.  But the tunnel seems so long.  Can I borrow a flashlight for now (ours is in a box somewhere...)?

I Miss My Washing Machine!

Help!  Help!  I'm drowning in a sea of dirty laundry!

No, seriously...a sea. It is Sunday evening.  The last load of laundry I remember doing was Tuesday of last week.  Then we got very intent on getting things in the new house so we could start sleeping here.  Each night after the kids were in bed it seemed too late to start a load and we were doing other things anyway (like running to Steak 'n' Shake for milkshakes-c'mon people, there are important things to get done!).  Then when we did get into the new house, I discovered the washing machine that comes with this house didn't work properly.  Like, it filled up with water, sat for a long time, and drained.  Then it filled with water again, sat for a while, and drained.  So, the clothes got really, soaking wet...but not so clean. We debated about what to do...try to get it fixed, switch it out for our own machines (which are in the garage), what to do, what to do... Meanwhile, the laundry has been PILING UP.  I have six garbage bags of dirty clothes and towels.  I have the new towels that we purchased on Friday (which I must wash before using-sorry, but I gotta' do it), the sheets on the beds are getting gnarly, there are multiple blankets which have gotten dirty during this move.  Plus, there is a laundry basket at the old house with dirty clothes that didn't get washed before we left, and another garbage bag full. Oh my word.  Did I really just tell everyone how much dirty laundry we have?  I did.  I want you to share in my pain. 

I actually enjoy doing laundry-I love when it's clean, and smells so good, and it's warm from the dryer.  I'll be in hog heaven when I'm through with all this.  Just trying to look at the bright side of things. Another problem this washing machine situation is causing is that because I cannot wash anything (and I have talked about a laundromat-I know that is an option) we are running out of some clean things.  Certain things are not a problem-underwear, kids clothes, even our own stuff, we're good on.  But clean towels, I have none.  Not even dish towels, which is what I used to dry Eliana off after her bath tonight.  It was the last clean one in the basket.  I had to get creative with the older kids, too.  But they were bathed and dried all the same. Mike is on a mission to have the problem fixed by tomorrow.  And then I will be doing laundry until next Wednesday. At which point I'll be swimming in a sea of clean laundry, which no doubt will be piled up on all the beds in the house. 

Ahh, then it will feel like home...