There are times that I half-jokingly say that I'm really not qualified for this job. Then there are times that I am just humbled and awed that anybody ever leaves me in charge of anything, and I mean it wholeheartedly. I really thought I'd know more by now.
But something I realized -- fully realized, in my heart of hearts -- this week, is that it truly is enough to do what's been set before you. Do it well. Do it diligently. Let the rest sort itself out. I have a wonderful ability to see the overarching themes of things, to see the whole picture, and that's great. It lets me grasp new ideas quickly. It lets me bring an idea to fruition in a moment. It can be a lot of fun. But it also means that when things are wonky or askew, I see all the things that are wrong, and I want to fixthemallrightnow. I can't. But that doesn't stop me from trying to.
The thing is, though, I expend so much energy in trying to find that one, brilliant maneuver that will do it all (fix it all, finance it all, repair it all, build it all) in one fell swoop that I tend to forget to do what's right in front of me. I see it. I recognize that it's good. But it doesn't seem like ENOUGH. I feel compelled to find that magic bullet, that extra hour in the day, that superhuman strength to lift not just a car, but an entire train. In my efforts to find this elusive big gun, I end up neglecting the things that are legitimately within my scope of influence.
I also end up diminishing my understanding of just how powerful one word, one task, one job can be.
It seems silly when I put it like that, doesn't it? And yet, if we were to meander back through the years, we'd see time after time that I got hit by stress paralysis, fretting about things that were outside my purview, yet letting the things within my purview fall through the cracks.
This isn't new information. I haven't stumbled upon some hidden brilliance. Mother Theresa got it. Ghandi got it. The Bible is absolutely full of advice right along those lines. The painful irony is that I've even spent the better part of two decades telling the children about this. Do what you know to do, and ask for help with the rest. You can only control your own actions, so do your best with what you have to do right now. You don't have to fix everything, but you do need to take care of your own things. Gosh. It goes on. It's embarrassing, really. I should know better.
But I am learning, so that's good. And it's working, which is also good. When you tend to what's in front of you, and do it diligently, you free up the rest of the world to get on with what it needs to do. You have the bandwidth to see how things move together, and to see how the interconnectedness of everything is at play.
And you can know that it will be okay. You may not know how. You may not know when. But you can trust that it will be.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Monday, January 22
Saturday, January 20
The Birthday Outing
So, it was 11 degrees on Em's birthday. Not inside, obviously, (thankfully) but just knowing it's that cold has an impact. We didn't even get dressed until noon. So, the manicure and the lunch with the boys will have to wait.
BUT, we did go out that day, and we fed her little heart.
First, we went to Anthropologie. I don't shop there. Mainly, because I have very little money. And I have to explain what I've done with it, which would be very hard to do if I spent the entire grocery budget on a throw pillow and a new coffee mug. However, I knew that it would satisfy an aspect of her heart to just BE in that environment. To see things that were designed with an aesthetic that she appreciates. To touch fabrics you don't find at Target or Kohl's, and to peer into designs that are inspired by something bigger than things close to home. To be inspired by what can be done when you have a vision.
We were there for an hour and a half, folks. An hour and a half in a tiny store, and she was not bored for a second. She was awed, and she was thrilled, and she was just quietly enthralled. I followed her around, letting her explain everything to me.
"Mom, feel this bead pattern, now feel this one. See how they feel different?" (For the record, no. My hands are calloused and I hadn't thawed out from the walk to the store yet. But I listened, and smiled, because she was showing me how she experiences the world.)
"Oh, look how they get different results with different knots. Also, they used knots. That's brilliant."
"Ohhhhh, squeeze this. Just grab it in your hands. Isn't that fantastic?"
"We need to find out where you can get this fabric and make one of these."
"Did you touch that plate? You should. It's amazing."
She comes to a dead stop. "Sniff, right here. Do you smell that? What is that?" So we sniffed around and couldn't find the source. We asked an employee to help us find it. She couldn't, either. We have no idea what we were smelling, but it was Stop You In Your Tracks lovely.
Then, we headed to Justice, where she got what I can only describe as her Tween Uniform.
It's adorable. Blessedly, they have a lot of decent, cute stuff this year. It's not an Anthropologie wardrobe, but it works. The ladies who work there were so kind and fun. They made the visit enjoyable. She got a water bottle that the boys won't steal and lose. She got some leggings and some t-shirts. We laughed and poked around. It was a very different vibe, but just as fun.
And now, she is 12. Gosh.
I haven't said it in a while, because (obviously) they aren't babies anymore, but still ...
Kiss those babies!
~ Dy
BUT, we did go out that day, and we fed her little heart.
First, we went to Anthropologie. I don't shop there. Mainly, because I have very little money. And I have to explain what I've done with it, which would be very hard to do if I spent the entire grocery budget on a throw pillow and a new coffee mug. However, I knew that it would satisfy an aspect of her heart to just BE in that environment. To see things that were designed with an aesthetic that she appreciates. To touch fabrics you don't find at Target or Kohl's, and to peer into designs that are inspired by something bigger than things close to home. To be inspired by what can be done when you have a vision.
We were there for an hour and a half, folks. An hour and a half in a tiny store, and she was not bored for a second. She was awed, and she was thrilled, and she was just quietly enthralled. I followed her around, letting her explain everything to me.
"Mom, feel this bead pattern, now feel this one. See how they feel different?" (For the record, no. My hands are calloused and I hadn't thawed out from the walk to the store yet. But I listened, and smiled, because she was showing me how she experiences the world.)
"Oh, look how they get different results with different knots. Also, they used knots. That's brilliant."
"Ohhhhh, squeeze this. Just grab it in your hands. Isn't that fantastic?"
"We need to find out where you can get this fabric and make one of these."
"Did you touch that plate? You should. It's amazing."
She comes to a dead stop. "Sniff, right here. Do you smell that? What is that?" So we sniffed around and couldn't find the source. We asked an employee to help us find it. She couldn't, either. We have no idea what we were smelling, but it was Stop You In Your Tracks lovely.
Then, we headed to Justice, where she got what I can only describe as her Tween Uniform.
It's adorable. Blessedly, they have a lot of decent, cute stuff this year. It's not an Anthropologie wardrobe, but it works. The ladies who work there were so kind and fun. They made the visit enjoyable. She got a water bottle that the boys won't steal and lose. She got some leggings and some t-shirts. We laughed and poked around. It was a very different vibe, but just as fun.
And now, she is 12. Gosh.
I haven't said it in a while, because (obviously) they aren't babies anymore, but still ...
Kiss those babies!
~ Dy
Friday, January 19
And in other news ...
I want to share cute selfies, but they don't exist in my world. My lazy eyelid is getting lazier by the minute (I swear it tried to sneak a bon bon and watch soap operas the other day), and if this keeps up, I'm going to be a walking Picasso piece in about five years. However, ignore that, and I love the picture for several reasons, and those are worth sharing. One, that shirt. I love that shirt.
When the whole cancer thing came up, I had the best cadre of friends to lend support. Some of them were gentle and sincere and somber. These are the people who remind you not to say s**** it and go out in a blaze of tequila-infused glory, but to stay the steady course. God, in His infinite wisdom, gave me several of those. Good call, Lord. I am so thankful for them. Some of them listened. Some of them helped. Some of them sent me inappropriate memes and jokes (both because laughter is the best medicine, and because my tribe is mainly comprised of those who survive through macabre humor), and got me a theme song and a t-shirt! If you need a theme song and don't have one (and you aren't too concerned about having an appropriate theme song, or are, perhaps, just a sucker for Hugh Laurie doing accents), may I suggest this one, by the incomparable Fry and Laurie. Make someone a shirt. It's unique and wonderful and totally worth taking the time to do. The shirt says on the front, "I'm singin' the song, Orrin!" and on the back, it says, "Kickin' Ass". Pick the sayings or phrases that mean something to the person you're supporting. They'll appreciate it for ages. I can't wear this shirt and not smile. Or feel like a big, goofy badass. Truly. It's too big for me now (hallelujah!) but I'm keeping it.
Two, hair. My hair is growing back, and even though my diffuser suffered a mysterious and violent heat-related death a couple weeks ago (so I'm so frizzy most days) (also, it's not that mysterious - I suspect children), I am still thankful to have hair again. I loved having it short -- it gave me a sense of my own strength and reminded me that we're not our outward decorations -- both good lessons. But the regrowing process is also healing and cathartic.
Three, that is a body that is still cancer free. I'm on the books as two years clear, now (which I don't totally get, because it wasn't until my Spring '16 scan that everything was gone-gone, but whatever, I'll take it). The only labs that aren't gorgeous are the ones the Rituxan knocked askew, and Dr. M says those take YEARS (yes, you can hear him speak in all caps when he says it) to recover.
I've still got a monster kidney stone (unrelated, but it goes on the to do list), and I've still got to get the port removed. Probably ought to get on that last bit before I decide to just do it, myself. (I kid. Z, if you're reading this, I'm kidding! Honest!)
And so, that's a load off. There's always increasing static in your head as you near a scan date. It just ramps up, and up, until you think of running to Mexico, or Portugal, or India to see if you can get away from it. But you can't, and so you don't. The only way through the noise is through the process. But good heck, that waiting time is so tense. I'm glad it's over for a while, and anxious to put all that mental wiggle room back to wandering around in circles trying to remember what I was doing.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
When the whole cancer thing came up, I had the best cadre of friends to lend support. Some of them were gentle and sincere and somber. These are the people who remind you not to say s**** it and go out in a blaze of tequila-infused glory, but to stay the steady course. God, in His infinite wisdom, gave me several of those. Good call, Lord. I am so thankful for them. Some of them listened. Some of them helped. Some of them sent me inappropriate memes and jokes (both because laughter is the best medicine, and because my tribe is mainly comprised of those who survive through macabre humor), and got me a theme song and a t-shirt! If you need a theme song and don't have one (and you aren't too concerned about having an appropriate theme song, or are, perhaps, just a sucker for Hugh Laurie doing accents), may I suggest this one, by the incomparable Fry and Laurie. Make someone a shirt. It's unique and wonderful and totally worth taking the time to do. The shirt says on the front, "I'm singin' the song, Orrin!" and on the back, it says, "Kickin' Ass". Pick the sayings or phrases that mean something to the person you're supporting. They'll appreciate it for ages. I can't wear this shirt and not smile. Or feel like a big, goofy badass. Truly. It's too big for me now (hallelujah!) but I'm keeping it.
Two, hair. My hair is growing back, and even though my diffuser suffered a mysterious and violent heat-related death a couple weeks ago (so I'm so frizzy most days) (also, it's not that mysterious - I suspect children), I am still thankful to have hair again. I loved having it short -- it gave me a sense of my own strength and reminded me that we're not our outward decorations -- both good lessons. But the regrowing process is also healing and cathartic.
Three, that is a body that is still cancer free. I'm on the books as two years clear, now (which I don't totally get, because it wasn't until my Spring '16 scan that everything was gone-gone, but whatever, I'll take it). The only labs that aren't gorgeous are the ones the Rituxan knocked askew, and Dr. M says those take YEARS (yes, you can hear him speak in all caps when he says it) to recover.
I've still got a monster kidney stone (unrelated, but it goes on the to do list), and I've still got to get the port removed. Probably ought to get on that last bit before I decide to just do it, myself. (I kid. Z, if you're reading this, I'm kidding! Honest!)
And so, that's a load off. There's always increasing static in your head as you near a scan date. It just ramps up, and up, until you think of running to Mexico, or Portugal, or India to see if you can get away from it. But you can't, and so you don't. The only way through the noise is through the process. But good heck, that waiting time is so tense. I'm glad it's over for a while, and anxious to put all that mental wiggle room back to wandering around in circles trying to remember what I was doing.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Monday, January 15
Birthday Ideas
I've accidentally published this post twice without meaning to because the pads of my hands keep bumping the little track pad on my laptop, tabbing me all over the place, one spot of which seems to be the Publish button. I need a little pad protector to put on it so that I can type without having to worry about my fat hands engaging that pad. (James would say I need to install Linux, which has a two-second delay before the thing activates, or something like that. I am almost there ...)
Anyway, with Em's birthday coming up, I started pestering her for ideas back in August. Because that's how you have to do with the gentle thinkers. You can't just hit them up at Costco the day of and say, "What do you want to do today? Sky's the limit!" They freeze, and you end up buying them an .89 bladder buster and a 30-roll pack of paper towels. I learned this the hard way.
After much mulling and thinking (seriously - it was January before she got back to me on most of this), she decided she'd like to get her ears pierced, get a manicure (she's hoping this will help her not bite her nails), go to lunch with the boys, and redo her room.
So, we started putting a plan in action. She got her ears pierced this weekend.
I've no clue on the manicure, and haven't had the bandwidth to track that down, but I'll do that today. Lunch with the boys will be at the 88. That's where they eat. It's what they do. It's their thing. It's also the only place in town you can get spicy squid, which is Very Important to Jase. (And? All this time, I had no idea they had a website. That's so cool!)
Her room is functional, but it's a mash-up of Stuff Her Brothers Didn't Want, Stuff She's Duct Taped or Sewn, and then things that usually began with, "Oh, crap, you probably need sheets (shelves, hangers, etc.), don't you?" So, it's functional, but other than the constant craft debris littering the floor, you'd never guess anyone lived there on purpose. She wanted to fix that.
She's been going through it, fixing up what she can with what we had on hand (this isn't as sad as it sounds - we have a lot on hand) and making a list of what she'll need. She's been making little changes, such as snagging a mint green sheet from the linen closet to go with her pink bedding, hanging lights above the window shades, adding pastels here and there, hanging drawings on the walls.
She asked if we can paint her bookshelf white with pink, yellow and blue distressed spots. (I said yes before I realized we were actually going to have Winter this year. We have to paint in the garage or outside, so she may be able to do that for Easter. Or Memorial Day. It's not happening on her actual birthday, though.)
Last week, she asked if she could "do something about that sad brown lamp shade". Of course. Good thing she'd asked for "virtually unlimited duct tape" and "gel pens of my very own" for Christmas! It's the gift that keeps on giving.
I only recently realized that what she really asked for for her birthday was to be left alone to craft. LOL! Clever girl. So that's what we shall do for her birthday - give her glue and stay out of the way. It's how she knows she's loved.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Anyway, with Em's birthday coming up, I started pestering her for ideas back in August. Because that's how you have to do with the gentle thinkers. You can't just hit them up at Costco the day of and say, "What do you want to do today? Sky's the limit!" They freeze, and you end up buying them an .89 bladder buster and a 30-roll pack of paper towels. I learned this the hard way.
After much mulling and thinking (seriously - it was January before she got back to me on most of this), she decided she'd like to get her ears pierced, get a manicure (she's hoping this will help her not bite her nails), go to lunch with the boys, and redo her room.
So, we started putting a plan in action. She got her ears pierced this weekend.
I've no clue on the manicure, and haven't had the bandwidth to track that down, but I'll do that today. Lunch with the boys will be at the 88. That's where they eat. It's what they do. It's their thing. It's also the only place in town you can get spicy squid, which is Very Important to Jase. (And? All this time, I had no idea they had a website. That's so cool!)
Her room is functional, but it's a mash-up of Stuff Her Brothers Didn't Want, Stuff She's Duct Taped or Sewn, and then things that usually began with, "Oh, crap, you probably need sheets (shelves, hangers, etc.), don't you?" So, it's functional, but other than the constant craft debris littering the floor, you'd never guess anyone lived there on purpose. She wanted to fix that.
She's been going through it, fixing up what she can with what we had on hand (this isn't as sad as it sounds - we have a lot on hand) and making a list of what she'll need. She's been making little changes, such as snagging a mint green sheet from the linen closet to go with her pink bedding, hanging lights above the window shades, adding pastels here and there, hanging drawings on the walls.
She asked if we can paint her bookshelf white with pink, yellow and blue distressed spots. (I said yes before I realized we were actually going to have Winter this year. We have to paint in the garage or outside, so she may be able to do that for Easter. Or Memorial Day. It's not happening on her actual birthday, though.)
Last week, she asked if she could "do something about that sad brown lamp shade". Of course. Good thing she'd asked for "virtually unlimited duct tape" and "gel pens of my very own" for Christmas! It's the gift that keeps on giving.
I only recently realized that what she really asked for for her birthday was to be left alone to craft. LOL! Clever girl. So that's what we shall do for her birthday - give her glue and stay out of the way. It's how she knows she's loved.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Saturday, January 13
You Beautiful People!
This week has been so encouraging.
A friend is applying for a position that would be practically perfect - both for her, and for the organization. I'm so excited and hopeful for her!
The boys have gushed and gushed about their classes and instructors. I'm so appreciative that they talk to me.
One of the boys has demonstrated that he can, in fact, get his shizzle done when a ride is on the line. I'm, um, so glad he can catch on!
A friend has been on fire lately with thoughtful things and being her typical loving, encouraging self.
People all over the place are helping each other out, sharing what they have, doing good things to skew their worlds for the better. That's very encouraging.
Z is making plow discs in his spare time. I love that he's using his creative energies!
We got snow! It was a lame snow, but it was snow. Didn't stick and the roads are clear, so that's like getting a double bonus of appreciation.
What's been encouraging in your world this week?
Be encouraged (or encouraging)!
~ Dy
A friend is applying for a position that would be practically perfect - both for her, and for the organization. I'm so excited and hopeful for her!
The boys have gushed and gushed about their classes and instructors. I'm so appreciative that they talk to me.
One of the boys has demonstrated that he can, in fact, get his shizzle done when a ride is on the line. I'm, um, so glad he can catch on!
A friend has been on fire lately with thoughtful things and being her typical loving, encouraging self.
People all over the place are helping each other out, sharing what they have, doing good things to skew their worlds for the better. That's very encouraging.
Z is making plow discs in his spare time. I love that he's using his creative energies!
We got snow! It was a lame snow, but it was snow. Didn't stick and the roads are clear, so that's like getting a double bonus of appreciation.
What's been encouraging in your world this week?
Be encouraged (or encouraging)!
~ Dy
Friday, January 12
The nice thing about getting old ...
... Is that I can finally get my test results same day as the test. Until then, however, I have to wait a week to hear how it went. Nothing big, just the routine PET scan. If this one's clear, I don't have to go back for two years! If it's not clear, I'll have to take a deep breath and just try again. Either way, we won't know until next week.
Fortunately, the rest of the day was busy enough that I didn't have time to dwell on it.
My favorite part of the day, though, was coming home to find James and Jacob playing Mario Kart together, absolutely howling with laughter. What a fantastic greeting!
It's super late, now, and I'm exhausted-but-wired.
I think I'll take a book and see if I can fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. It's my favorite way to wrap up a day!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Fortunately, the rest of the day was busy enough that I didn't have time to dwell on it.
My favorite part of the day, though, was coming home to find James and Jacob playing Mario Kart together, absolutely howling with laughter. What a fantastic greeting!
It's super late, now, and I'm exhausted-but-wired.
I think I'll take a book and see if I can fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. It's my favorite way to wrap up a day!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Thursday, January 11
Self Care Through the Ages
I kind of miss childhood, when you could go for a week accumulating the dirt and grime of childhood adventures and still go out in public. (This might be why I enjoy backpacking so much.) Believing with all the faith in the world that playing in the creek totally counted as having bathed, and since your friends were just upstream, catching crawdads, they didn't mind. Or notice.
Mmm. Gross. But yeah.
Still, there you have it. Childhood. Adults were tasked with pointing out when it was time for a bath, and that was fine. That was plenty. You ate what someone else prepared. You didn't really have to think about self care much, if at all.
There are other seasons in life that are reflected in various self-care routines:
Adolescence - the first time your body just up and starts doing weird things on its own, and the frantic scramble to get a grip on that before everything mutates beyond recognition.
Young Adulthood - general awareness that nutrition ought to be a thing, but there's booze. And resilience. So a lot of self care at this point goes into recovery, looking good, and sucking it up.
Marriage - sometimes this is a good stage - there's not only bathing, but some thought goes into meals and routines. It's like having a clue. I know I didn't have a strong clue, and I wasn't good at most of it, but at least there was an attempt.
New Motherhood, Mother-of-Toddlers - these last two being very distinct stages identified mainly by the type of food that's stuck to your shirt and speed with which loud sounds will snap you out of a dead sleep. That was a crazy time. A friend is watching a little one this week and she posted from the bathroom, where she was trying pee in peace. It was hilarious and precious, but I got tired just remembering those days. I let my kids stay up late and eat candy as a thank you for not still being two years old. Because dang. It's a miracle everyone got through that without too many scars or staph or who knows what.
Then there's your 30's. Possibly the first time many of us can take a breath and really think about how we care for ourselves since we last got a grip on the acne and hormones of adolescence ... also the first time we're horrified to realize acne is still a thing past adolescence ... But at this point, you're aware that you need to nourish your body, your soul, your mind. There's a lot to do to really take care of one's self. But it's doable. It's pretty cool.
You'd think by the 40's and 50's, we'd have a routine down pat and not have anything left to figure out. But, no. The body, she is a'changing, and will continue to just up and do weird things on its own. So our care often needs to change with it. But how much do we really think about it?
If you're like me, perhaps you think about it, make a kick butt list of Things You Can Do to Improve Your Situation, and then make another cup of coffee and go back to work doing Something Else, entirely. I've got a great list for 2018 (and no coffee this morning, because PET scan). But if you need some encouragement and practical suggestions, go read Melissa's latest post on When Life Gets Off Track. She gets it. And she knows what she's doing.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Mmm. Gross. But yeah.
Still, there you have it. Childhood. Adults were tasked with pointing out when it was time for a bath, and that was fine. That was plenty. You ate what someone else prepared. You didn't really have to think about self care much, if at all.
There are other seasons in life that are reflected in various self-care routines:
Adolescence - the first time your body just up and starts doing weird things on its own, and the frantic scramble to get a grip on that before everything mutates beyond recognition.
Young Adulthood - general awareness that nutrition ought to be a thing, but there's booze. And resilience. So a lot of self care at this point goes into recovery, looking good, and sucking it up.
Marriage - sometimes this is a good stage - there's not only bathing, but some thought goes into meals and routines. It's like having a clue. I know I didn't have a strong clue, and I wasn't good at most of it, but at least there was an attempt.
New Motherhood, Mother-of-Toddlers - these last two being very distinct stages identified mainly by the type of food that's stuck to your shirt and speed with which loud sounds will snap you out of a dead sleep. That was a crazy time. A friend is watching a little one this week and she posted from the bathroom, where she was trying pee in peace. It was hilarious and precious, but I got tired just remembering those days. I let my kids stay up late and eat candy as a thank you for not still being two years old. Because dang. It's a miracle everyone got through that without too many scars or staph or who knows what.
Then there's your 30's. Possibly the first time many of us can take a breath and really think about how we care for ourselves since we last got a grip on the acne and hormones of adolescence ... also the first time we're horrified to realize acne is still a thing past adolescence ... But at this point, you're aware that you need to nourish your body, your soul, your mind. There's a lot to do to really take care of one's self. But it's doable. It's pretty cool.
You'd think by the 40's and 50's, we'd have a routine down pat and not have anything left to figure out. But, no. The body, she is a'changing, and will continue to just up and do weird things on its own. So our care often needs to change with it. But how much do we really think about it?
If you're like me, perhaps you think about it, make a kick butt list of Things You Can Do to Improve Your Situation, and then make another cup of coffee and go back to work doing Something Else, entirely. I've got a great list for 2018 (and no coffee this morning, because PET scan). But if you need some encouragement and practical suggestions, go read Melissa's latest post on When Life Gets Off Track. She gets it. And she knows what she's doing.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
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