Writing is cathartic for me, usually. Eating, too, brings me joy…which is probably why, instead of that desperately needed nap, I’m sitting here in front of my computer screen madly typing away as I only take minimal breaks to snack on my crackers and cheese. Really, though, I ought to sit here and write for about a week to purge myself of all the pent up emotions and tension paddling through my veins and then maybe I can get back to being a sweet, loving, and nurturing mother. As it is, I discover (not surprisingly) that I'm cranky, impatient, and unsympathetic...traits that usually don't describe me.
One might think, from the irregularity of blog postings, that nothing exciting or noteworthy has been going on in the Medina household. Au contraire, mon frere. This has been one busy place all winter long…and there’s still how many more weeks left?
The only thing noteworthy is that this place has been an infirmary of sorts for months. Since September, Gideon has had almost 1 ear infection per month, and Scarlett, well, nearly the same, though by now, I’ve lost track somewhere in the depths of night when I’m wide awake dealing with or listening to a screaming, unhappy, sick child…or both. And here we go back to the pediatrician, this afternoon, for yet our second trip of the week - - because in addition to this ear infection, Gideon’s got some kind of high fever and nasty coughing that wakes him from a dead sleep and then keeps him awake and he’s had it for days…AND he’s not eating. When my children don’t eat, something is seriously wrong.
I’m an emotional eater myself…as many women are. Which is probably why though I’d managed to only gain about 20 pounds this pregnancy, within ONE WEEK, I’d gained 6 and then 2 more this past week. I realize, when I’m at my wits end (which has happened nearly every other day for the past 3 weeks), I head to the cupboard or fridge to see what I can stuff in my mouth for a temporary fix while I’m trying to comfort two little ones. Just in case you’re wondering, it’s not really working. It’s even been hard to pull myself together to spend time with the Lord (which is a definite fix for me!) when they are finally asleep….brownie a la modes, triscuits and cheese cubes, hot buttered bagels, and soft-n-chewy chips ahoy white chocolate fudge cookies are my delicacies of choice these days.
It’s probably a good thing I knew nothing about children, hadn’t babysat much, and was really quite unaware of how horrible winter can be to a small child’s health before I got married…because, had I known, I might have re-thought my stance on medicinal birth control (a.k.a. “the pill”). As it is, you already know I am not comfortable with anything in a pill form controlling that aspect of my body; therefore, I’ve had one child per year of marriage. That’s obviously not newsworthy, but I’m thinking that had I been able to see a picture of one week of life at 37 weeks pregnant with a 1 and 2 year old sick, cloying, needy, not eating, and not sleeping…I might have ignored the Holy Spirit on that personal decision and opted for peace and convenience. Naturally, I’m glad I didn’t, but it’s been that kind of winter. Horrible and never-ending.
Since we rarely take the children anywhere save church on Sundays and grocery store shopping, I almost want to hibernate like bears while winter germs ravage the rest of the country. I know that wishful thinking, but good night, WHEN WILL IT ALL END?
Will it end with the Ear, Nose, and Throat visit we have next week which bodes ill for tubes and surgeries?
I don’t know. And now, I find myself too tired to think any further. I bid you adieu until the need for written therapeutic abolition is again needed…..my children are asleep, and there, too, I shall soon be.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Pounded by Bad Weather
We were completely pounded last night by bad weather. Somehow, we didn't realize it was a tornado, which merely included the largest hail I've ever seen.
Right after dinner, Jeff was preparing to take Gideon outside to put the peanuts out for the squirrels. We happen to have the radio on which mentioned bad weather. Jeff hesitated in taking him out (thank goodness) and then we heard what I thought was the tornado siren, but more like a whistle. It only lasted about 10 seconds and then things grew eerily calm. We then turned on the t.v. and that told us hail was coming. Jeff scurried outside to pull the car into the carport and got pelted by little hail. As soon as he got inside, the torrent started.
Since we didn't recognize a tornado was so close AND our power went out, we grabbed the kids and the camera and stood at the back window watching. NOT our smartest move. By the time it got really bad, we were debating whether or not to go down to the basement. We didn't make it because by the time we decided, the storm was over. Thank the Lord he protected us in spite of our ignorance!
This video footage was made for my dad for insurance purposes, but you really get a feel for what was happening. Alas, I didn't get any footage of when we were being pounded to death. By then I was scared and took Scarlett to a safer place, while Jeff and Gideon continued to survey the damage being done.
Right after dinner, Jeff was preparing to take Gideon outside to put the peanuts out for the squirrels. We happen to have the radio on which mentioned bad weather. Jeff hesitated in taking him out (thank goodness) and then we heard what I thought was the tornado siren, but more like a whistle. It only lasted about 10 seconds and then things grew eerily calm. We then turned on the t.v. and that told us hail was coming. Jeff scurried outside to pull the car into the carport and got pelted by little hail. As soon as he got inside, the torrent started.
Since we didn't recognize a tornado was so close AND our power went out, we grabbed the kids and the camera and stood at the back window watching. NOT our smartest move. By the time it got really bad, we were debating whether or not to go down to the basement. We didn't make it because by the time we decided, the storm was over. Thank the Lord he protected us in spite of our ignorance!
This video footage was made for my dad for insurance purposes, but you really get a feel for what was happening. Alas, I didn't get any footage of when we were being pounded to death. By then I was scared and took Scarlett to a safer place, while Jeff and Gideon continued to survey the damage being done.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Shopping
We don’t go shopping. Ever. Clothes shopping, that is. We’ve gratefully received what new duds we have from our parents and have just made do with things purchased in the past. And besides, Jeff is turning into an old man with his style. Many trends I'd love to see on him - - he just doesn't like. And many trends I'd like to see on myself, he doesn't like either.
This tax season, we did get some money back. I was happily anticipating giving away a chunk to someone in need like we were able to do last year. That was, until Jeff reminded me of the upcoming hospital bills of our post-delivery and preparation for leaving for overseas as well as potential start up costs in our new country (deposits, new appliances, small electrics, etc).
I was bummed, but not for long. That joy stolen (though I knew he was right and we needed to save our money this time and not give it all away), I decided I needed to have ‘some fun’ for a change. My brother and his wife left on Sunday for a Chick-fil-A conference in California. They graciously allowed me use of one of their cars. Freedom, my friends, evokes a natural 'high' for me. I don't get out much, especially not during the day.
I’m not one of those women who spend money frivolously or without my husband’s knowledge; any money I spend Jeff is usually with me or knows about. And, technically, since I don’t have a car of my own, the only shopping I could do would be on the internet and to me, that’s just no fun.
Anyway, after I took Gideon to the doctor and it was confirmed that nothing was wrong with him and it was time to pull out “mean mom” and let him re-learn to comfort himself to sleep at night, I was ready for fun. Usually, I’m not an Old Navy fan because the pants never fit me right, but it was close to the doctor’s office, and I thought I might be able to find a shirt for Jeff on sale because, like my mother taught me, there’s no use paying full price for an item when it will be on sale in a few weeks. Wise woman, that Marta Lucy.
So, if you have any need whatsoever for men’s clothes, NOW is the time to hit it. Prices were dirt cheap, and as I was debating between khaki and navy pin striped pants, currently on sale for $6.99, a sales gal told me that all men’s clearance items were an EXTRA 50% off the lowest price. Now, I’m not stupid and I love a good deal; that was too much to pass up. I pulled out my crocodile hunter gear and examined every pair of men’s pants in the place and found 3 pairs for Jeff at a whopping $3.49 a pop, and I even found him a nice button down shirt for $7.00 (that was my expensive purchase of the day). I left the store gleeful -- do you ever get that way when you feel like you’ve gotten a one-up on a store? Obviously, they still make a profit, but it felt like a steal to me, and I was so exuberant I barely noticed my cranky children in the backseat.
Of course, when Jeff found out I “went shopping” he wasn’t thrilled and muttered something similar to my pappycorn about ‘money not growing on trees’etc., so I merely told him that if he came home, tried on all his new duds and still thought we should return them, we could. Pat me on the back for that reverse psychology, eh? Of course, when he got home and showered, I made him give me a fashion show. When he was through preening his cocky feathers and admiring himself, I asked if he still wanted me to return the clothes. He sighed that deep sigh of wistful resignation, and said “no, I like them and I guess will need some decent things to wear after I don’t work at Chick-fil-A anymore.”
It wasn't too difficult, therefore, to convince him to take me to the nearest consignment store to look for little girls' clothes...because Scarlett is into the next size and I don't have much for her little thickums self. Even at the consignment store, we were blessed. Of the few items I found, several were an additional 60% off...now that's my kind of shopping day!!
This tax season, we did get some money back. I was happily anticipating giving away a chunk to someone in need like we were able to do last year. That was, until Jeff reminded me of the upcoming hospital bills of our post-delivery and preparation for leaving for overseas as well as potential start up costs in our new country (deposits, new appliances, small electrics, etc).
I was bummed, but not for long. That joy stolen (though I knew he was right and we needed to save our money this time and not give it all away), I decided I needed to have ‘some fun’ for a change. My brother and his wife left on Sunday for a Chick-fil-A conference in California. They graciously allowed me use of one of their cars. Freedom, my friends, evokes a natural 'high' for me. I don't get out much, especially not during the day.
I’m not one of those women who spend money frivolously or without my husband’s knowledge; any money I spend Jeff is usually with me or knows about. And, technically, since I don’t have a car of my own, the only shopping I could do would be on the internet and to me, that’s just no fun.
Anyway, after I took Gideon to the doctor and it was confirmed that nothing was wrong with him and it was time to pull out “mean mom” and let him re-learn to comfort himself to sleep at night, I was ready for fun. Usually, I’m not an Old Navy fan because the pants never fit me right, but it was close to the doctor’s office, and I thought I might be able to find a shirt for Jeff on sale because, like my mother taught me, there’s no use paying full price for an item when it will be on sale in a few weeks. Wise woman, that Marta Lucy.
So, if you have any need whatsoever for men’s clothes, NOW is the time to hit it. Prices were dirt cheap, and as I was debating between khaki and navy pin striped pants, currently on sale for $6.99, a sales gal told me that all men’s clearance items were an EXTRA 50% off the lowest price. Now, I’m not stupid and I love a good deal; that was too much to pass up. I pulled out my crocodile hunter gear and examined every pair of men’s pants in the place and found 3 pairs for Jeff at a whopping $3.49 a pop, and I even found him a nice button down shirt for $7.00 (that was my expensive purchase of the day). I left the store gleeful -- do you ever get that way when you feel like you’ve gotten a one-up on a store? Obviously, they still make a profit, but it felt like a steal to me, and I was so exuberant I barely noticed my cranky children in the backseat.
Of course, when Jeff found out I “went shopping” he wasn’t thrilled and muttered something similar to my pappycorn about ‘money not growing on trees’etc., so I merely told him that if he came home, tried on all his new duds and still thought we should return them, we could. Pat me on the back for that reverse psychology, eh? Of course, when he got home and showered, I made him give me a fashion show. When he was through preening his cocky feathers and admiring himself, I asked if he still wanted me to return the clothes. He sighed that deep sigh of wistful resignation, and said “no, I like them and I guess will need some decent things to wear after I don’t work at Chick-fil-A anymore.”
It wasn't too difficult, therefore, to convince him to take me to the nearest consignment store to look for little girls' clothes...because Scarlett is into the next size and I don't have much for her little thickums self. Even at the consignment store, we were blessed. Of the few items I found, several were an additional 60% off...now that's my kind of shopping day!!
Monday, February 09, 2009
Long Overdue Video Footage
With a little help from her older brother, Scarlett can now move around with the likes of Gladys, the mall walker (if you haven't seen that clip, it's hilarious). Here's some video footage of Gideon "helping" Scarlett walk!
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Reflections on Turning 30
Thirty is supposed to be this mystical magical moment of inexplicable maturity that hits as soon as the clock strikes midnight. That hasn’t happened for me. And well, it could be because my “midnight” actually occurred at 12:00 p.m. and, at the time of writing, I still have a couple of hours to go. And, then, well, it could also be because that mythical moment has permeated our society and flowered as truth rather than the ruinous weed that it is.
Turning 30 has put me in a most reflective frame of mind. Like many, I was under the false impression, for a long time, that turning 30 would automatically mature me, show off the wisdom I had gleaned over the years, and then I’d be ready to assume my role in society as a true adult.
What a farce.
When I think about that honestly and as a Christian, I want to smack myself for believing that nonsense. It’s purely a cultural problem that we have tagged 30 as that paranormal moment when life begins to slow down, we give up our independence, settle into marriage and careers, put the frivolous adolescent boy and girl mores behind us, and actually start thinking about “spiritual” and lasting things.
Tim McGraw’s song “In my next 30 years” comes to mind and though I happily squawked along to it at one time without really thinking about the words or meaning, I now see, quite evidently, the thoughtlessness of our society portrayed in the words. He counters the “mistakes” of his first thirty years with his hopeful plans for the second. (Now, that concept in and of itself is good and noble. It’s the reasoning behind it and the societal norms that I take issue with.)
We have permitted our children, from a very early age, to take on Little Lord Fauntleroy attitudes, instructing parents on what they will or will not do, ordering them around like men and maid servants to a point where the child becomes insulted and victimized when social boundaries and moral constraints are placed upon them or when parents actually try to stand up to them - - much too late. They enter life with no concept of how to behave, and this is because of what they believe about themselves and the others around them. We created a term called adolescence which was not in existence 50 years ago; it extends childhood into the 20’s and places absolutely no responsibilities on these ‘adolescent’ adult children. We pay for their cars, their college, and their weekend parties. We let them move back into our homes as adults while they squander what we’ve worked so hard for. We don’t understand why their lives are in shambles and why they can’t seem to get it together. We send them down the path to hell and destruction while self-righteously calling it love.
And then, we ignorantly expect them to straighten up as 30-year-olds.
Where’s the logic in all of this?
There is none. And, on this, my 30th year of life, as I look back and see what damaging lies our culture has fed us (lies that originate from the Father of Lies), I refuse to be sucked into that mode of thought. My children will learn loving boundaries, age-appropriate responsibilities, thoughtful discipline, and selfless action. They will hear it from Jeff and they will hear it from me, and prayerfully, they'll also see it modeled.
Turning 30 has not automatically matured me; indeed, I still have a long way to go. Becoming a mother (the most shocking and traumatic experience a selfish person could ever undergo) and taking on the God-given responsibilities of a little life solely dependent on me brought me into a greater awareness of my limits, my failings, as well as my desire to do what’s best for them.
It will cost me something. It will, and has been, a sacrifice of egotistical desires and pursuits. But, I can put those away for now, understanding that it’s temporary. Soon enough, my little ones will be old enough to pack their own bags, wipe their own bottoms, and fix their own snacks. And then when I’m home alone, there will be a world of opportunity awaiting me.
Until that day, I resolve to fulfill my commitment to Holy God, to my husband, and to my children. There is no magical mystical day awaiting me, beckoning me forward into adult life and duties. It’s been here. I’m thrust full in the throes of it and there’s no turning back. Failure is not an option. Three little lives depend on me. And turning 30 has only reminded me of that.
Oh, and P.S. I am fully aware that Christ's own ministry didn't begin until he was 30, but do you think Mary and Joseph let him, in his 20's, sit around all day playing games and frolicking with his buddies? I hardly think so. He was a carpenter. He worked.
Turning 30 has put me in a most reflective frame of mind. Like many, I was under the false impression, for a long time, that turning 30 would automatically mature me, show off the wisdom I had gleaned over the years, and then I’d be ready to assume my role in society as a true adult.
What a farce.
When I think about that honestly and as a Christian, I want to smack myself for believing that nonsense. It’s purely a cultural problem that we have tagged 30 as that paranormal moment when life begins to slow down, we give up our independence, settle into marriage and careers, put the frivolous adolescent boy and girl mores behind us, and actually start thinking about “spiritual” and lasting things.
Tim McGraw’s song “In my next 30 years” comes to mind and though I happily squawked along to it at one time without really thinking about the words or meaning, I now see, quite evidently, the thoughtlessness of our society portrayed in the words. He counters the “mistakes” of his first thirty years with his hopeful plans for the second. (Now, that concept in and of itself is good and noble. It’s the reasoning behind it and the societal norms that I take issue with.)
We have permitted our children, from a very early age, to take on Little Lord Fauntleroy attitudes, instructing parents on what they will or will not do, ordering them around like men and maid servants to a point where the child becomes insulted and victimized when social boundaries and moral constraints are placed upon them or when parents actually try to stand up to them - - much too late. They enter life with no concept of how to behave, and this is because of what they believe about themselves and the others around them. We created a term called adolescence which was not in existence 50 years ago; it extends childhood into the 20’s and places absolutely no responsibilities on these ‘adolescent’ adult children. We pay for their cars, their college, and their weekend parties. We let them move back into our homes as adults while they squander what we’ve worked so hard for. We don’t understand why their lives are in shambles and why they can’t seem to get it together. We send them down the path to hell and destruction while self-righteously calling it love.
And then, we ignorantly expect them to straighten up as 30-year-olds.
Where’s the logic in all of this?
There is none. And, on this, my 30th year of life, as I look back and see what damaging lies our culture has fed us (lies that originate from the Father of Lies), I refuse to be sucked into that mode of thought. My children will learn loving boundaries, age-appropriate responsibilities, thoughtful discipline, and selfless action. They will hear it from Jeff and they will hear it from me, and prayerfully, they'll also see it modeled.
Turning 30 has not automatically matured me; indeed, I still have a long way to go. Becoming a mother (the most shocking and traumatic experience a selfish person could ever undergo) and taking on the God-given responsibilities of a little life solely dependent on me brought me into a greater awareness of my limits, my failings, as well as my desire to do what’s best for them.
It will cost me something. It will, and has been, a sacrifice of egotistical desires and pursuits. But, I can put those away for now, understanding that it’s temporary. Soon enough, my little ones will be old enough to pack their own bags, wipe their own bottoms, and fix their own snacks. And then when I’m home alone, there will be a world of opportunity awaiting me.
Until that day, I resolve to fulfill my commitment to Holy God, to my husband, and to my children. There is no magical mystical day awaiting me, beckoning me forward into adult life and duties. It’s been here. I’m thrust full in the throes of it and there’s no turning back. Failure is not an option. Three little lives depend on me. And turning 30 has only reminded me of that.
Oh, and P.S. I am fully aware that Christ's own ministry didn't begin until he was 30, but do you think Mary and Joseph let him, in his 20's, sit around all day playing games and frolicking with his buddies? I hardly think so. He was a carpenter. He worked.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Chick-fil-A
In this already proven economic downturn, Chick-fil-A was actually up 12% last year. Our local news did a piece on them, highlighting my brother's store. You'll see Jeff trying to put himself in many shots. And another channel is going to be doing the same piece today...will post more later.
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