Are adults destined to be Boring, Stale, and Mad About Life?

I had one of those startle moments recently, when I realized that I was almost 20 when Caitlin Clark was born.

I don't usually talk sports, because two sentences in, it becomes obvious I have No Clue what I'm talking about. 

However,  Caitlin Clark became famous while attending the University about 15 minutes from my house, and I know people who have talked to her,  so I started paying attention.  I watched to see who she is and how she plays, and how her teammates reportedly love her- because she's that kind of a person.

I admire Caitlin's enthusiasm about life, her strength,  and her stamina. Her ability to fight well, yet speak highly of the team who defeated them is noteworthy.

I look at her amazing smile, and silently pray that her smile survives- that nothing and nobody is brutal enough to destroy that beautiful smile.

I hope that Adult Life doesn't crush her.  

.....

When I was entering adulthood,  I fought it with my whole being. 

I even wrote a paper about all the reasons I didn't want to graduate into adulthood. I don't remember what words I used, but the idea was that most adults are Boring, Stale, and/or Mad About Life.

A couple decades later, and I think, to the current pre-adults around me, I probably seem just about as Boring,  Stale, and Mad About Life as any adult ever was.

Truth is, I'm tired. Exhausted.  Stale.

I want to sleep and do Really Boring Things, because there's this whole buzz of constant excitement around me all the time. I crave quiet. I read posts from The Dull Men's Club, for fun. A Boring Day is a Good Day- that's my motto!! How utterly boring. 

I try really hard not to (because, amidst all the things I can NOT control, I have to practice what I teach my kids: "Your response is YOUR responsibility!"), but some days, I DO feel really Mad About Life.  Grief has slashed my heart to pieces, and some days, I find myself still struggling to pick up the pieces. Navigating subtle OR obvious special needs of children has kept me awake more nights than you know. I feel so much more fear than I did as a child,  even though my trust has deepened. I feel a lot of emotions about the actions of people who may or may not have a direct effect on my life.  I have to consciously "clean my glasses" so I can see life around me outside the filter of my own experiences. 

I TRY not to let all this stuff make me grumpy, but I am quite certain that, to my former self, I would hit the "Mad About Life" list. On some days, anyway.

Here's my Challenge of the Day-

To the pre-adults: Hug an adult today- they probably need it. 

To the adults: Smile occasionally,  sleep when you can, and remember to clean your glasses.

To all: Be cheerleaders, across the span of age.

.....

One more outstanding thing about Caitlin Clark: 

After being selected as #1 pick for the WNBA, she was asked about her goals. Instead of focusing on the competition and The Win, her answer focused on continuing to enjoy the game, as she moves forward. 

I want to enjoy each step of my journey,  too.

Celebrating the Family of God- 10 things I love about my church

 

The "family of God" is much larger than our church. But these ten things are about our church, in particular. 

1. We meet in an old church building with  stained glass windows.

2. We're an odd mix of traditional, old-fashioned,  and modern.

3. The people make incredible food. Seriously,  the potlucks never disappoint. I think I always take the worst food there 😆 

4. The children have some wonderful Sunday School teachers who have invested many hours into developing a through-the-Bible interactive study.

5. Bible memory is encouraged and rewarded, for the kids.

6. Our singing is a lot better than it was 10 years ago 😉. The building acoustics help, too.

7. Adult Ladies' Sunday School Class. We're working our way through Romans right now, and I am thoroughly enjoying the study.

8. We practice some New Testament teachings that many find strange and many more deem unnecessary. Washing each others' feet. Anointing with oil for the sick. Heads covered for the women. Fasting is encouraged.  

9. We do fun things together. 

10. We serve each other. We have had so many meals cooked for us, through Baby Season, and we've cooked a few for others. There is willingness to pitch in and get things done. Sometimes,  as in most groups, there has to be some extra motivational encouragement,  depending on the project,  but I'm thankful for the work-together attitude. 

There are more things, but there's my Ten Things List!

Celebrating Life on the Farm- 10 things I love about scratching out a living from the dirt

Being on a farm is not where I envisioned myself in my adulthood,  and parts of it I will never love. But this isn't about that; it's about the parts I do love.

1. Wide open spaces

2. Animals

3. Few neighbors

4. Beautiful sunrises and sunsets

5. Quiet places

6. Big skies

7. Fresh air

8. Green things

9. Educational opportunities 

10. The Farmer Himself

Celebrating Marriage: 10 Reasons I Love Being Married to Craig

I wish I didn't feel any hesitation to put this out there for people to read, but I do.

We have single friends whom we honor.

We have friends whose marriages are brutal and broken.

We have friends whose marriage partners have died, and the hole in their lives is massive. 

We also have a marriage that is far from perfect,  because WE are far from perfect. 

Yet, perhaps it is because of these things, I write. 

Marriage was designed to be beautiful,  and, even in its imperfection, I want to celebrate the love of marriage. 

1. I was single for 30 years. I actually loved that life. But it gets lonely after awhile. Loneliness exists within marriage, too- but it's different.  I have My Someone. I love having My Someone. 

2. Have you ever lived with a hormonal woman? It ain't easy (so I hear🤣). But, 4 babies and several miscarriages later, my husband has survived my hormonal roller coaster,  and somehow, he has managed to love me through it. I love that he was my companion through it all, and went with me to every single early OB appointment- I am SO THANKFUL he was there for the hard ones. (We are both enjoying having my hormones a bit more stable again 🙃)

3. If you are a person of wildly passionate thoughts and ideas and emotions, I hope you have a stable person, somewhere, to help keep you grounded and balanced. Craig's name means "rock," and I love that he is my rock.

4. I love that our children run to him with shining eyes and big smiles, when he comes in the door.

5. If you know Craig,  you know that he may not be loud in a crowd, but he holds opinions that are stubbornly unswerving. I love that he has been willing to bend, ever so slightly, on things like occasionally driving a car instead of a truck, and drinking coffee (iced, but it's coffee!😉). 

6. Speaking of coffee, I lived the first 30 years of my life with the delusion that what married people do every morning is have great conversation over coffee. It has taken 10+ years to get there, but I love having someone to converse with over coffee. I'll gladly ice it! It's still not a daily thing for us, like it was (almost) for my parents,  to sit and have a long chat over coffee. But progress is progress!!

7. My favorite of Craig's shirts is the one that says, "Don't panic- Dad will fix it." As a homeowner when I was single, I considered writing a book "On Being My Own Handyman."  I love that my husband is capable of fixing just about anything that can be fixed with a little welding, a little warping, or a little wood. He makes it look so easy.

8. Touch is a touchy subject with me. I wasn't touched much for 30 years.  Sometimes, I like being touched; sometimes, I don't.  With four kids, by the time Craig comes in, there are days that every single one of my touch receptors is on fire, and I don't want to touch or be touched.  I love having access to touch when I need it; I also love that I'm allowed to say, "Not right now, please" when I need a break. I especially love having a foot warmer. 😁

9. Being married to a man who is able and willing to do just about anything for just about anyone is wonderful- and hard.  I love that he's that kind of man, even though I get kinda selfish about sharing him sometimes.  I have a whole new appreciation for, say, pastors' wives, who constantly share their husbands all around the community a whole lot more than I share mine.  I love that he's willing to help others when the opportunity arises- it's why we're here.

10. Craig and I are very different persons.  It's not a bad thing.  Both of us have expanded our minds and grown our hearts a little larger, because of the differences in our fields of knowledge and interests.  He reads more, sings more, and pulls the keys more often than he did 12 years ago.  I know a whole lot more about cattle and tractors and how things work than I did 12 years ago.  I love working with him in our meat business, because we sharpen each other's ideas- I work mostly with the marketing part of it, and he designs and builds heavy duty carts to haul the grills and freezers.  I love being married to my teammate, and I love that we get to each help the other become a better person.

After we became engaged, people came out of the woodwork to tell us that marriage is hard work.  I mean, they weren't wrong, because relationships just ARE that way.  Almost 12 years later, I'm still saying that LIFE is hard work, and I'm so thankful to have someone to do the hard things with.

And THAT is why I'm celebrating marriage.

p.s. Yes, I had Craig's permission before I said all this stuff about him 😉

Photo from our wedding day, August 25, 2012.

Many thanks to Portraits by Jeanna and all the others who helped preserve our memories from that day!

Criticism

 I'm digging up an old word sketch tonight.

Actually,  it's a song I wrote probably two decades ago. 

I don't remember the specifics of why I wrote these words, but every now and then, they echo through my heart.

...........

There are those who criticize

I cringe beneath condemning eyes

I want to run away and hide

Or scream, and tell how hard I tried 

Search me, oh God, and know my heart 

Search me, oh God, examine every part

Search me, oh God, and see if there be

Some wicked way in me

Opinions and expectations 

Can multiply life's frustrations

Whom should I please? What should I do?

Oh, God- I want to please you!!

Search me, oh God, and know my heart 

Search me, oh God, examine every part

Search me, oh God, and see if there be

Some wicked way in me

Word Jewelry, and foot-tapping insecurities

I want to write more. 

At this season of life, I don't really care if anyone reads what I write, and I don't care as much as I should care, what they think if they do stumble upon my words. I'm not really writing for anyone else; I'm writing for me. It's what I do for fun (I'm weird that way).

Some days, however,  I let myself wonder if I could get paid for my "word jewelry" (strings of words that have been fashioned into something of beauty and value). 

It's only when I start thinking about writing for other people that I start to feel insecure about my writing. While I typed that last sentence,  my left foot started tapping frantically.

I want to write for money, but I don't want to have to care about what people think about what I write. 

Solve that!!

Out of these insecurities,  I wrote this:

---------

If I would write

Would I write right?

Would the words be worth the read?

Would the reader wonder why I wrote,

Or read what I wrote, with wonder?

If I would write, why would I write?

And why would I write what I write?

Because the words in my head, they just might explode

If they're trapped there forever, with nowhere to go.

I can write what I cannot speak,

When I write, I can delete.

When my brain fires faster than my tongue can translate,

The mords get wixed up as they fly out the gate.

But as I write, the jibberish brainwave jello starts to mold,

I can leave it and come back 'til I get the story told.

I'm terrible at following the rules of the words-

There are so many, it's really absurd.

 

I Capitalize As I Please,

Because Naming Things is one of the Small Glees

Of life that I choose to savor,

At the risk of taking me out of favor

With the Word Lords.

I mix meters and metaphors and poetry forms.

(I also think forms should rhyme with worms.)

Who writes these rules, anyway?

Must I keep them? Who's to say?

Sometimes when I write, I pull out the stoppers.

I verb-alize nouns, and scandalize Propers.

I comma with Oxford, AP or, random.

Some things I write are really quite dumb.

 

But I write, 

Because the words I write might

Make someone's day bright

Or help someone see 

Something differently. 

But mostly,  

I write for me.

The End.

(Click Send?)

Be That One Person to Some Person

We did a thing today.

We loaded up the whole family and went Christmas Caroling. I guess that's still what it's called when you have six people singing five different notes that are too far apart to  all be melody and too close together to be harmonious, and it sounds a bit discombobulated,  but if the listener is well versed in Christmas songs, they might be able to sing along with a fair chance of hitting one of the notes already being sung.

We went Christmas Caroling to a handful of people.  

Because our Christmas caroling is a little like Wooton Bassett's mail delivering, it took us roughly two hours to make five stops, but we returned home blessed in our hearts, and with more things in our pickup than we had when we left home to give stuff away. Crazy how that works.

Our last stop was a man who lives alone and has Very Few People.  We have visited him a handful of times in the past few years, and each time, I tell myself we need to go routinely.  He still has the pictures on his fridge that the boys made for him 2-3 years ago, and today, he wiggled things around on the fridge to make room for one more, and proudly displayed the painted rock in a prominent place on his shelf.

I get a little discouraged with myself sometimes. I have a collection of friends who specialize in doing Big Things For Lots Of People.  They frequently and successfully host large dinner parties or organize complex events. This is not me. I prefer doing Little Things For A Few People. 

As we left this man's place, I was struck with the power of Doing Little Things For A Few People.

If every person would Just Do One Little Thing for a handful of people every day or every week or every month or every year, all those One Little Things might make a difference. 

I feel most days like all I have to give, I give to our family. The little bit I have left, I give to our business, for the sake of our family. That leaves me with a tiny, teeny, little bit left to give into the community. 

If all you have left to give is a  tiny, teeny, little bit, then just do a tiny, teeny, little bit for a handful of people. 

It just might mean the world to someone. 

The Ten Thing Thing

I look around and see hundreds of things to do. I can't do hundreds of things in 2 minutes (which is the average amount of time I have to focus, with 4 kids under 10), but I CAN do Ten Things.

I swoop up Ten Things off one counter and go put them away. Even most of my children's URGENT needs can wait that long to be met.

I get bored easily, and housework holds little intrinsic interest to me, so I force myself to do it, and I break it up so I can tolerate it. Ten Things. I can do Ten Things.

Sometimes, I race the dishes against the laundry. Ten dishes away. (Go change a diaper.) Ten towels folded. (Answer a math question.) Ten dishes. (Break up a fight.) Ten shirts. (Get a drink for a Small, Thirsty Human.)

Then suddenly, there are only a few left, and I quickly finish them. 

The amazing thing is, those first 10 are the worst. After I've done 10, I often go ahead and do another 20. 

If it's a night when snuggling children took priority over dishes, sometimes I walk through the kitchen at 2 am, en route to somewhere that's none of your business. On the way back, I think, "Ten Things. I can do Ten Things." I might do 10. I might do 100. Either way, it makes a difference. 

Sometimes, after the children are in bed, I look around and see messes and unfinished projects all around, and I have no idea where to start. So I rotate through the spaces, doing Ten Things. After making a couple rounds of doing Ten Things, I realize that each space is no longer unconquerable, and I start conquering spaces.

I'm not claiming that it's an efficient way to do housework, but for me, with my fluttery-jibbety-flittery brain, it helps draw me into motion. 

I can do Ten Things.

I'm also teaching my children this. When EVERYONE does Ten Things, it goes 10x faster. Ok, not really, but they are learning. 

They can do Ten Things.

One thing at a time.

A case of "The Momses"

Oh, don't mind my rumbling,

I'm really not grumbling-

I love this circus and zoo.

But in case you wonder,

Take a moment and ponder

The stimulation that Mothers go through. 

The noise

    Of the boys

The wiggles

The giggles

The squirming all over my lap

The squabbles

The wobbles

The tossing

The bossing

The racket during my "nap"

There's the sound of yelling, 

There's this poo that I'm smelling

The taste of this pre-sampled food (🤮)

There's the sight of the messes

The feel of wet kisses...

"How are you?" "Don't worry- I'm GOOD!"

But I beg, please don't judge

While I feast on some fudge,

And curl up, wrapped in a blanket.

A mom can be strong

For only so long,

'Til she expends her power to fake it. 

She'll be right back, after these messages,

Knowing life's full of purpose and promises,

Based on speculation, 

She'll survive the stimulation

She's just had a short bout of The Momses.

- a mom of Very Lively Children 

After "one of those days"

Added, by same Mom of same Children,  after a couple hours of sleep helped reset her perspective:

Thank you, God, for the wiggles and giggles and noise,

For the busy girl and each of the boys,

For the huge hugs and wet kisses,

Messy hands, dirty faces

And for hope, help, and all of the joys.

Ode to a "Normal" Day

 

Back in the days when I was free

To roam the earth as I jolly well pleased,

I'd pick up the phone and I'd call back home

To hear the voice of my favorite Mom.

"Hi, Mom!" I'd nonchalantly say.

"Anything exciting happen today?"

"No, thank God!" was her heartfelt reply.

I truly, genuinely, could not understand why!

"How absurdly boring!" I said to me.

I struggled to grasp the reality

That "boring" is "normal" and "normal life" could

Actually, somehow, be honestly good!

"Adulthood is boring!" was my youthful conclusion. 

I subconsciously vowed Adventure Inclusion

Would be part of my life- it was here to stay!

There's no reason to EVER have A Boring Day!

I sought New Hard Things, sometimes treacherously,

And loved living life very adventurously.

"Try something new every day!" was my motto;

Drive a new route, fly a plane, eat gelato...

I don't know what happened to that Adventure-Seeking-Me.

Perhaps the Adventure started seeking me!

"Never a dull moment!"- words I once cherished- 

That's my life now; Boredom has perished!

(In my particular life, right now,

Life has completely filled up, somehow, 

With a little girl and several boys,

There's ALWAYS adventure- and So Much Noise!)

As the hours turn to days and the days turn to years,

My perspective keeps changing, and so do my fears.

The days when the phone doesn't ring are the best.

No Extra Stuff-- I just want to rest!

As I crave the Unexciting Day,

I shake my head and hear myself say,

"My conclusion really can't be any other-

Like it or not- I'm becoming my mother!"