uncharacteristic peace about public schooling

Right now I have my 2-year-old and 7-month-old napping simultaneously. I honestly can’t remember the last time this has happened for any length of time. It’s totally possible that it's happened a lot, but since I’ve had my 6-year-old around all the time too, I didn’t really notice. But today, she’s in school, so my house is perfectly and deliciously quiet – for 30 minutes and counting!

The quietness of Annabel being at school has me thinking about her school situation. And I want to write about it today, because I find myself, on day 3 of a new school year, in a very rare place of clarity and contentedness with her being exactly where she is – in 1^st grade, in public school. 

Although our default setting has always been public school, I absolutely shocked myself this last year by starting to think seriously about the option of homeschooling. The idea started coming to me like a pesky fly, buzzing first at a distance, then closer, until it was well within my personal space and I found myself annoyed and distracted, batting it away repeatedly. God's leading has definitely come to me in this way before. So I wondered if that was happening again.

Annabel had fantastic teachers in both Pre-K and Kindergarten, and she thrived in school both years. I had also pretty much vowed to NEVER homeschool unless there was absolutely no other option – like if we were in the middle of nowhere, Africa. This is not because I’m against homeschooling, because I definitely am not. It’s simply because I'm an increasingly practical person and I know myself. And I know (see my previous post) that I am NOT good at multi-tasking, nor am I good at creating my own structure and schedule, and I feared that I would totally short-change my kids’ education by trying to home school them - at least in the younger years when so much structure is required. 

And yet, in spite of all of this, throughout the school year (even with Annabel doing great) I still found myself with a critical mass of uncertainty and tension about continuing with public school. The reasons for that are for another post. And this is starting to sound like the back story on why we ended up homeschooling. Because I seriously wondered if I would end up there. (I still wonder.)

…Which is why it’s so striking to me that right now, today, in this moment, I feel clear and happy about Annabel being exactly where she is. In 1st grade, in public school. When I think about her being at school right now, probably about to get her backpack and line up for the bus, my predominant emotion is Peace. Confidence in its being the right thing at the right time. I’m aware of the drawbacks, and feel clear that for now, the benefits outweigh them. The challenge/payoff ratio is working in our family’s favor. Rarely, oh so rarely do I feel clear on this, and so it’s a good time to record that sentiment – so I can come back to it, when it feels less clear. (Which will probably be tomorrow.)

Some things I've seen happening this week are Annabel conquering fears and growing in confidence. I see her having normal anxiety about a new school, new teacher, new bus driver, and all of it, and discovering that she can overcome that anxiety, do the thing[s] she’s afraid of, and that the outcome will be okay – possibly even good. She’s already telling me about things like figuring out her lunch number and asking for directions to her class - little empowering experiences (baby steps if you will), but things that are HUGE for her, things that she can only get when she has a little distance from us. She needs the opportunity to find her Brave. And for her, for right now, that’s public school. (Tomorrow I’ll probably be sure it’s something else…but for today, school is AWESOME!)

My positivity may be influenced right now by the fact that because my other two are sleeping AND Annabel’s at school, I am alone in a peaceful house. That’s totally possible. But, I think my other reasons are good too. So we’ll go with that for now.

I have no time left to think of a fitting title BUT I BLOGGED! Winning!!!

This morning is a typical scene. I escape to my bedroom, desperate for a few minutes of peaceful space. I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling, doing absolutely nothing. (Bliss.) At some point I realize that [magically] I haven't been interrupted for the last ten minutes. I also realize that my brain is exploding with things to write. So I decide that maybe, just maybe, I have a window to actually get some things out of my brain. So I find the computer, settle into my couch, and open Word to start typing. I write about three fourths of one sentence. And instantly, multiple people appear in my bedroom, talking to me, climbing on me, needing me. It was perfectly peaceful, until I actually decided to try and accomplish something (besides laying on my bed). EVERY TIME.

Actually, even though I said this is a "typical scene," it's really not. What is typical is this dilemma. Every day I have all these words and feelings and mish-mash floating around in my head. Every day I escape to my bedroom and consider trying to get it all out. But I don't actually get my computer and sit down and write three fourths of a sentence. Nope. Pretty much every day, I decide it's hopeless, and too hard, and I give up without even trying. 

I genuinely wish that I could change the way my brain is wired up so I could do [at least] two things at once without feeling stressed, overwhelmed, angry. I wish that I could accomplish any tasks at all, from start to finish, while still mothering. I don't wish that my life was different, or easier, or better. I just wish that my brain worked differently, so that I could better navigate the full and good life that I have - because instead of full and good, too often it just feels overwhelming and hard. (Which also makes me feel guilty...which is for another post altogether.)

A specific piece of the overwhelming pie that I'm thinking about this morning: Why, oh why would God give me my last two kiddos so close in age? (Back story: Levi's timing was planned by us. Juniper's was totally NOT.) Why, when He KNOWS I am not cut out for this unique brand of all-consuming, non-stop multitasking? Even I knew that about myself beforehand. Surely God was aware too.  If it were an area of growth...I could conceptualize that. Giving me something He knows is challenging, so I have opportunities to grow - that's Discipleship 101. That I get. (Not talking traumatic here...that's a different category. Just ordinarily challenging.)

But this doesn't feel like that. My basic brain-wiring is not something I can grow out of. I genuinely think that relational multi-tasking is something I will never, ever be good at. I doubt I will ever be able to easily process two or more people talking to me, reaching for me, needing me simultaneously. I might learn how not to give in to my anxiety and overwhelmed-ness, but I don't think I'll ever "figure it out." So why did God set up my family this way?

And furthermore, why would He choose to put that before me, when ultimately it's not me, but my kids, who will pay the price for my limitations here? The stakes feel too high and totally unfair. It's my children, and not me, who will suffer for my perpetual stress, overwhelmedness, tiredness, and withdrawal. Seriously...why???

This is not an angsty, complaining WHY ME. [I am so grateful for my family.] Just a serious, honest question: Why? Why did he choose to surprise us with Juniper so soon after Levi, knowing how I am wired, and knowing the impact of that wiring on my parenting abilities? I know that many, MANY families intentionally space their babies around two years apart (or less). In our culture that's a really normal age gap between siblings. But for me, it is SO INTENSE. I much preferred the 3.5 year gap between my first two. I also love the 5.5 year gap between my oldest and youngest. But I have been totally tsunamied by the 2 year gap between middle and last. 

I am sure that there will come a time when I really enjoy it. Like, for example, when I finally have a PreK-er and a 1st grader, and they are ALL OUT OF THE HOUSE. I'm sure I will enjoy it then. Or, when they're close enough in age to really be playmates, or someday even share friends. I know that in the school-aged era of our family, it will probably have more pros than cons. But that's then. THIS IS NOW. And right now, having a 2-year-old and a baby is just way too much, all of the time.

And please don't tell me to just relax, to enjoy every minute, because it goes so fast. Because I know that. Oh man, do I know that - and that, actually, is exactly WHY I struggle so much having them be so close in age. Because I truly, deeply, intensely WANT to enjoy each one of them, at each stage, at each unique moment in time that will never come again. Nate actually teases me for how often I say that - this moment will never happen again. I need to ENJOY IT!! 

But with both of them being so intensely needy at the same time, it feels nearly impossible to enjoy them in the ways I want to. Those magical moments when I am looking at one of them, marveling at some wonderful, unmatchable, unrepeatable thing about them right now - that's the moment when the other one starts crying or falls off a chair or dumps their cereal on the floor. I am all about enjoying and soaking up. But in this chaos, I simply can't. At least, not in the way I long to.

I'm not sure how to end this because there's no resolution to this. However, the one thing that I can come back to, is that my kids, my family, the way God has organized our life, is not all about me. It was not designed with ME at the center. (This is actually quite a freeing thought when I let myself ruminate on it.) Though it's my nature to process things in an exceedingly self-absorbed way, that's not God's perspective. At all. It's actually about showing the world something about HIS love, something that couldn't be seen any other way, through any other arrangement. That...I can understand. 

And I can also understand that He has all kinds of other reasons and purposes that I couldn't possibly see yet. I pray that He gives me the gift of seeing some of those reasons along the way, even if it's not now. I can trust that even if I don't get it. And actually when I calm down, I can already see glimpses of some of those reasons. 

But today...I'm just focusing on the WHY and I don't want to think about that stuff, because I know the questioning process needs its own moment.

I don't get it. Maybe I'll never fully get it. I guess that's okay. No resolution today. Just questions. Writing it out though...that's a good thing. I got to write today. In spite of lots of crying and cooking and vacuuming going on outside my door. My parents are here, so I got to write.  Parenting: 1,000,367.  Debra: 1.

Yep...still determined to blog, one month later. (That's a good start right?)

So much in my head. Everyday I think about blogging, and how I want to, but how I still feel stuck on what to write. I feel compelled and also obligated since I wrote a month ago about my determination to keep blogging. I want to write about why I’ve waited a month to post again. Because for the first time in awhile, it hasn’t been out of procrastination or lack of desire or lack of opportunity. It’s actually just been out of an unexpected confusion about what I want to use this forum for. 

I still feel this weirdness about the role that blogging is supposed to play in my life. I have my friends and my community here, who are up to date with my life, with the things I’m dealing with and processing. There’s always a lot more in my head than I have opportunity to talk about with them, but nevertheless, my friends are pretty connected to me. So where does the blog fit in when it comes to those friendships? 

That’s part of the struggle. It’s that fear of hypocrisy again…the thing I wrote about with regards to my determination to blog. I want to face that fear down, head-on. I’d never want to present myself differently on my blog than anyone might experience me in real life. And I'd never want to feel uncomfortable with my everyday community reading what I write here. Though it might give them a deeper or different perspective on me, I’d never want it to feel discordant or surprising in a bad way. At a core level, I want to be the same person, everywhere, in every setting.

In the past when I’ve blogged, the majority of my close friends did not live geographically close to me. And for various reasons, I’ve felt isolated from a real, thriving, everyday life community. Today that’s not the case. I have an amazing community. Back then, the blog was a helpful way to share my life with my people who were far away. I still have a ton of those people. But I also have my people here, and a lot of my everyday stuff, which I used to feel more comfortable sharing on the blog, I’m sharing in day to day conversation. Actually my people here are a huge part of my everyday stuff.  (This is a really, really good thing.) And that actually makes it even weirder to write about everyday life here.

I feel like my blog is no longer primarily for stories about my kids, photos of them, or that kind of stuff. Which is a little sad because I really enjoyed that little niche of blog-land while I was a part of it. I loved sewing stuff for Annabel, and then sharing pictures of it. I’ve long wanted to share blog posts about all the house projects we’ve done since moving in here. But the truth is, Facebook is more my venue for that now. Since I’m not an actual photographer, my blog isn’t really the best place for photos. I feel like to share my photos there, it would actually have to be ABOUT the photos. And most of what I want to write these days just wouldn’t fit with that.

It’s more the thinking stuff that I’ve been wanting to share. Which is really how my blog got started (or at least got going) in the first place, with my Jubilee experience. And that’s more the genre in which I want to write. That’s an important part of whatever my “niche” will turn out to be.

Perhaps I need to just think about my favorite blogs at this very moment. They’re really different than what used to be my favorite blogs three years ago, when I got going with blogging (which happened to coincide with the advent of my sewing exploits).

Right now my favorite bloggers (which are very few) are the ones who write about the simplicity of Jesus, who he really was, and what it’s really about to live like he did. Ones which boil things down to GRACE, and LOVE, and FREEDOM. To truly caring for each other, being gentle with each other, and how much more important that is than being in agreement. Because that’s really what life is about. I am so tired of all the extraneous fluff, and argument, and blah blah blah of other stuff. I’m too tired for all of that. Just give me the meat. Get to the point. Tell me straight up what it is you want to say and don’t make it sound prettier or wittier than it really is. Please just make it real. Gritty even. Uncomfortably honest. Because that’s what I long for. That’s what I want out of my friendships, and out of myself. It does not come naturally to me but it’s what I want to move toward, in the relationships that have proven themselves safe for that kind of honesty. 

Because I believe that gritty, and honest, and direct, do not preclude kindness, and warmth, and concern. I can be genuinely me, without wounding you. That's how I want to be. And that's what I want my writing to be like.

Last time I blogged, I shared about my struggle with huge amounts of negativity at home, that really only Nate sees in full. That was uncomfortably honest for me. But really good for me to write about. That's an example of the direction I need to go with this.

What I will share on my blog is never going to be at the vulnerability level of some of my favorite writers, because I just know I don’t have the capacity for that right now. I’m still too fragile and too tender. And that’s fine. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be more real than feels comfortable. It doesn’t mean I can’t be vulnerable enough that it makes my heart pound – but not for its own sake, either. For a purpose. Because whatever it is that I’m sharing, I have some good reason why I want to share it, or at least a strong impression that I should share it. That’s where I’m headed with this blog.

I still am working on figuring out exactly what that looks like, and I don’t really know where that will take me. But I do know that I want to write (that's progress in itself - apathy is receding), and I also know that I need to write (admitting that also equals progress for me). “Writing” may not always mean a blog post. It might just mean journaling, and that’s totally okay. It will probably also mean half-finished blog posts that never end up getting published because I just can’t get back to them before their moment has passed. I already have a few of those from this past month. I don’t know exactly how this will play out, what role my blog will play.

But what I do know is that every time I sit down to journal (which I do on my computer), while during past seasons it’s automatically turned into a prayer or an emotional dump or a huge bullet point list of all the things on my mind, these days, it always seems to start morphing into a blog post. And I guess I just want to pay attention to that. My current favorite writer and blogger says to just look and listen for “the next right thing.” I know that blogging is part of that for me, right now. So even if it’s only once a month, or every two months (though hopefully it will be more like once a week), I need to pursue that and see where it goes. For myself, I need to do that. We’ll see what happens.

on my determination to start blogging again

I’m here this morning because I want to be here, blogging. For a long time, I haven't been sure whether I wanted to blog or not, for lots of different reasons. But lately, a lot of the stuff in my head feels like stuff I want to share. That I’m supposed to share, even. 

But I have to get it out first. And it is amazingly hard to actually sit and TYPE. So rarely are my hands free at the same time that my space (or even just my brain) is empty of people who need me. (So rarely are my hands free, period!)Even when I do find the time, though, it has been surprisingly hard to make myself write. Even when I’m longing to get this stuff out of my brain, and into words, it’s been hard. 

I think a big part of that is my intense fear of hypocrisy. I’ve been realizing what an enormous driving force this is in my life. The last thing I ever, ever want to be is two different people. To be, to write, to share publicly as though I’m one person, while at home my family knows I’m someone else. This alone has kept me quiet on my blog for a very long time.

At its core, this is a good desire – to be the same person in all settings. Of course we should all aspire to that. But this is Fear I’m talking about, not aspiration. Fear of being the bad thing, instead of aspiring to the good. And Fear never leads to good places.

The terrible thing about this particular fear is that it so easily becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy (or curse). When I’m so afraid of being a hypocrite, it makes me that much more anxious about being 100% authentic with the people outside my family. Because then, what if they see the ways that I really AM being two-faced? That the stuff I put on Facebook or my blog isn’t lining up with what they see in me everyday? Then won’t I lose all my credibility? Won’t I be rejected and judged?

….So part of my way forward involves me being HONEST about the ways I am, in fact, a hypocrite. Taking my biggest fear and recognizing that guess what: I’m already there. To take the biggest example, I am drastically more negative, grumpy, critical, and impatient with my husband than I am with anyone else in my life. And I mean this for real, people. Not just the occasional snarky or crabby moments. I mean like, most of the day, most days, for most of the past 7 years. My parents also sometimes see this side of me. These people who are absolutely stuck with me, no matter what – they see it. And though I’d like to think I’m better with my kids, ultimately, I know that of everyone in my life, they are the ones I can probably hide from least of all. (Which triggers this fear all over again. I do not want to confuse my kids about God by being a two-faced person.)

Lately I’ve gotten numerous comments from people in my life about how I never complain, how I have such a good attitude about things, etc. These comments have been encouraging, but also alarming to me. Because if you really think that, then that means I’m definitely not letting you see all of me. It means my hiding has been too successful. I know that if you said that to Nate, he would laugh in your face. Well actually, he would probably only do that inside his head, because he’s too nice to blow my cover. But he’s the one that gets my daily download of negative energy, complaints, and litanies about all the things that are “hard” and the detailed descriptions of WHY they are so hard.

There is both hope and despair in this reality: despair because I know, without a doubt, that I am far from being as all-the-way-around authentic as I want to be. But hope too, because somehow Nate sees all of me, yet still chooses to stick with me. (Not that it isn’t hard for him, too.) So if he can do it, it means that acceptance of me - ALL of me - must be possible. (Obviously this is true of God as well…Nate is just one way God is trying to show me this Truth.)

Which brings me back around to the necessity to face my fear head-on. To hear that voice that tells me, “You’re such a hypocrite. That thing you just said to Nate – you would never say that to the people you call your best friends. You are living a double life.” To hear all these things, and to respond by saying: “Yup, you’re absolutely right. I am doing that. And guess what: there is grace for that too. Grace is big enough.” That’s the path I’m trying to find, which I’m trying to believe is highly preferable to the path that I’ve been on up till now, which is the one that says “Try Harder.” (Battling my performance & perfectionism complex – that’s another whole post in itself.)

And while I’m acknowledging the reality of where I am, I can also acknowledge the lie that’s inherent here, which is that the negative side of me is the REAL me. That all the good stuff I put out there, all the times I’m choosing what I know to be the faithful and soft-hearted response, that that stuff is fake. But the thing is, I know that’s not true either. 

What’s TRUE is that I really am both people. Both sides of me are real. So the goal is not so much to bring the negative side into all of my other relationships, or more positive into my interactions with Nate, but to bring the two together. To somehow find healthier ways to get the negative stuff out, so it's not so lopsided. I guess I'm hoping that writing, especially here where anyone can read this stuff, and not just the absolute-safest people in my life, can be part of that integration process.

I don’t know how often I’ll get the time to sit here and write, but I have a new determination to work it into whatever new rhythm I find as a work-at-home mom. Because it just feels like the right way forward, and a necessary part, just like it did three years ago when I first got going with this blog. Hopefully some of you will stick with me as I figure it out. 

six weeks and relishing

So Juniper Joy is only 6 weeks old, and I’ve already started to fill my first box of outgrown clothes. Seriously, slow it down. I prepared for a big baby (and I got one) so it’s not like these clothes were too small when she came out. No. Clothes that she could wear when she came home, she can’t wear anymore. Single tear.

But it’s okay, because I really have been savoring this time, drinking it all in. More with her than with my other two, for sure. There’s something about her being the third, and her being our last, that just has made it all the sweeter. Those first weeks I felt like I could literally stare at her all day (and I did, for the better part of it). Anxieties I had with my first two have gone out the window and there’s just a joy. Just like God said there would be. Juniper JOY.

I can just now start to feel the newborn glow begin to wear off. (I’ve realized with this baby that truly, I love the newborn stage. (I must remind myself to hold newborns any chance I get. I forget after awhile how good they are for my soul.) She’s awake more often during the day, life is normalizing somewhat, certain responsibilities can no longer be put off under the “I just had a baby” excuse (though a lot still can…right?!). Life is starting to leave the transition period and find its new normal. But only just. And I’m still savoring.

I won’t soon forget the first month of spending my nights upright on my couch, sleeping with her cradled in my boppy-supported arms. I won’t forget the moment I realized that I was literally holding her for 20+ hours a day, and that I didn’t resent a minute of it. (This was definitely not the case with my first baby. I was desperate to hand her off and get some sleep. Magical Third Child.) I will relish the memories of waking up to see her sweet face first thing, and just gazing at her. And after a little while, trading her to Nate for a cup of hot coffee. Sweet memories. Even that stage has already passed. But it’s okay.

This kind of love is such a gift. I am so grateful to get to be a mother. Three times. A lot of my mothering moments are not this gooshy, but I’m having one now, and I’m going to enjoy it.