Land of the free

We have been doing a bit of social studies this week. A lot of what we learn about ends up talking about America and it’s symbols for freedom. Our grand flag. The Boston Tea party and how we fought to be represented, to have a say. How those first members of what would become the United States were fighting for freedom in their own religion. Freedom to not have to pay taxes without getting a say in what those taxes were for.

And, it’s hard to teach that with the sincerity now. I guess because I am no longer feeling free to practice my religion. I no longer feel free to make choices for my family on how we want to live, or eat. What happened to my land of the free?

In the beginning we had groups of like minded people living together. We had laws passed on local levels, not across every state. And, that gave people more freedom. One group in New York was not deciding how another group in California should live. We messed it up by saying everyone had to conform. We messed it up by categorizing people based on class or color. And yeah, maybe some misguided Christians led those group, but, they were wrong.

I must remember to teach my children their history. Unfortunately, I don’t think I can stop us from having to repeat it. But, they will be armed.

This year when I vote I hope to find someone on the ballot who I can vote for and know my vote is allowing me the freedom I want to know what food I am feeding my kids, the freedom to teach my children the faith I want, to birth how I want with full consent, to make an informed choice on vaccinations, homeschooling, raising up this family. And even if they don’t agree with me, I want them to allow me my freedoms to not conform with society. Freedom to be empowered, not to take what I can get like a drug addict needing a fix.

I wish everyone could truly vote to live life as they want, but to allow others to do the same and to consider that as they vote. All men, have the right to life.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.–Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government.

The longer I live, the less I know

Sometimes we forget where we started. Sometimes we forget that there was a time we thought we knew everything and really, we didn’t. The most humbling thing is to see another person, back where you once were and seeing that person making your same mistakes.

Here is the thing, 10 years from now, I will look back at this person I am now and realize I still know nothing. I know more than I did at 26, but less than I will at 46.

But we are all on this journey together. And we can’t help along anyone if we divide and ostracize others.

Tonight I was reading my prayers and I came across James 4:11-12:

Brothers, do not slander one another. Anyone who slanders a brother, or condemns him, is speaking against the Law and condemning the Law. But if you condemn the Law, you have stopped keeping it and become a judge over it. There is only one lawgiver and he is the only judge and has the power to acquit or to sentence. Who are you to give a verdict on your neighbor?

So many want to condemn their parents when they make mistakes. Yes, your mom probably screwed up raising you. But, she did the best she could at the time and telling her she sucks isn’t going to inspire her to grow.

We condemn our spouses. Yes, he probably could have tried harder to get that raise, but your belittling him isn’t really gonna do much to get him inspired to keep going. Maybe the house isn’t spotless but I am pretty sure she wasn’t eating bon bons all day and could use a “thanks, wife, for loving us and taking care of us. You rock” every now and then.

We condemn those who step up as leaders in church groups, in social movements, we slash people down. We focus on our shortcomings instead of on our heart and intent. There really are things to be inspired by, there are good things you can focus on. And no, you don’t ignore the bad, but you do help where you can in love.

There really are enough people out there out to get us without having to defend ourselves constantly from those who are supposed to love us and are on the same team.

Lovingly inspire. Pitch in, step up, work together. Every member of the team, family, movement is needed. Share your love, not your hate.

The magic of 4

Well. Since I opened this to complain, I guess I should get around to updating how we are doing adjusting to being outnumbered 2 to 1.

I really mostly love it. I admit that adjusting to this 2 year gap between my last 2 kids is kicking my butt a bit. I often wonder how all those people out there can tolerate having 2 babies at once.

Toddlers are just…toddlers. they drain you and take all your patience with the stealing food from the kitchen and the writing on walls and the constant needing to be on the go, and the having no sense….

And babies…. you just want to cuddle all the day long. You don’t want to miss a smile. And they protest you moving constantly just as much as you want to protest…..

But, really, somehow, I still love it. We are getting a really good routine with the olders homeschooling. The 2 yo is starting to sit still a bit and work on coloring pages or writing next to the 5 yo. The baby is usually content to be held while I sit next to an older.

The baby LOVES the 5 yo. Just hearing his voice makes him laugh with glee. And the 5 yo is quite content to use his high pitched squeaky voice over and over to hear the baby laugh.

The 2 yo is kind to the baby. He brings him diapers and toys and generally tries to make sure the baby is happy and his needs are met.

The 8 yo is good at holding the baby in just that right spot so the baby can burp. And is so proud when he can soothe him.

The older 2 are also adjusting to the toddler in their midst. The 5 yo is quite happy to provide him with endless snacks that he can then share with him and they love the task of being sent outside to help run off the toddlers energy.

I guess I can truly see the bond forming among them all. And it just really is a good thing and beautiful to watch. Mostly I am in awe of this beautiful environment that God has created for my boys to grow up in.

I recently read “Wild Things: The Art of Nurturing Boys.” In the book the authors talk about how boys (and girls) learn best in same sex environments. I think that is what God set up for us. This perfect all boy environment so that my boys can truly become as perfect as 2 flawed parents are able to make them. And it is a beautiful comfortable world.

And I can see in the future how close they will all be. And how they will all be their very best friends. And really, it is so beautiful to watch and be a part of.

Tolerance

I haven’t been blogging. Not because nothing is happening but because I get about 3 minutes per day when I am not holding a child. And he doesn’t like the computer. And I guess I have this image of these nice blogs with clear links and research. Well, it is either post just my emotion and gut responses or post nothing. I guess I have been posting nothing.

But, today. Today I am mad. And just so incredibly frustrated. I am mad that I feel I bend over backwards to keep following the idea of not pushing my beliefs on anyone, to keep following the idea of tolerance. And for me, that means, let me have my bubble, you can have your bubble.

America is screwed up. The mixing pot was a dumb idea. Voting for all these things nationally is even dumber. We can’t all agree. We are entirely too diverse. Pitting the “conservatives” against the “liberals” is just another way to continually keep us enslaved and no way to move forward. Stop pushing for universal everything and empower your community!

We really should have remained a bunch of small communities like communes based on our beliefs, not on finances or race, but true beliefs. Then communities could support themselves and if they wanted to have marriage defined differently in one area and not in another, they could do so. If some wanted to pay for condoms for their community and another didn’t, they could make that choice and live with it. If one wanted church organizations to help with the poor and another wanted the community to, they could do that.

Instead they pit us against each other. We are each fighting to live our lives how WE want to live our lives. I want to homeschool, I want to raise my children in MY faith. I want to have natural child birth. I want to eat locally and have raw milk available. I want local pastured eggs and grass fed beef and pork. I want to support small businesses and local farmers because my faith tells me it is the right thing to do and the sinking health of society as we become allergic to mass produced crap food shows it is right.

And I don’t care if you don’t want those things. But at least let me have them. And you can do whatever. Just stop punching my bubble. Stop letting the world take away my rights to give you yours.

Focus on your family. Focus on your community. Stop trying to make America agree nationally. We’ll all be happier.

On dignity

In every interaction with your children, remember two things. You are teaching them how to get to heaven and the greatest way to do this is by example. And, they are your retirement plan. The government isn’t going to be around to help you with this one…..

So we teach them, through our example to be a servant to others. We help them when they are helpless, because it is what we are called to do, help the helpless, but, it is also how we are showing them to help *US* when we cannot help ourselves.

Remember, as you change their diaper, to show them every dignity. Because some day, you might need a bit of help with that yourself.

Remember, as you get frustrated that their hand slipped and they dropped a glass of milk all over the place and you want to scream, that some day, you will lose the strength in your hands, and you might be dropping things as well. Do you want to be yelled at?

Remember, as you rush through your day and you brush them off because you don’t have enough time, some day, they will be the busy ones and you will have all the time in the world. Do you want to be brushed off?

Remember as you gently bathe them, remember as you take a moment to smile, remember as you pause to read them a story or listen to their chatter, you are by example teaching them the patience they need for their own children, and you are teaching them the patience they need to take care of YOU, and you are teaching them to be the servant they need to be to get to heaven.

Trusted Guides

“Do not fear—I shall be with you always…. Trust me lovingly—trust me blindly.” God to Mother Teresa

I am not sure if I can fully express these thoughts so, forgive me if I fail at it.

I am once again reading Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light. And, she really was amazing. And it is such a blessing to hear the words just at a time when you need to, just at a time that you see a friend going through a similar dark time and hoping to find the words to help her.

In the last couple years, I have thought about the idea of trusted guides. The idea that we should not complain to the world, just to complain to the world. A few weeks ago a friend on facebook linked an article that had suggestions for new married couples. And in it it said that you should find one or two trusted people who you can discuss issues you are having with your marriage but not bash your husband to everyone.  And thanks to my husband, I learned this lesson years ago. Because it was something he always did for me. You talk about the great things your spouse does and if you need help with some other things, you find a confidante who can help you work through it.  And you accept the good things about him/her and work together to deal with yours and his/her limitations. And talking to that confidante is not just a bashing for bashing sake kind of discussion, but a “help me work through this, I’m struggling and need help.”

Mother Teresa during her dark time said she struggled to be able to express what was going on in her heart.   The author writes:

Mother Teresa had always kept hidden the deepest working of God’s grace in her life–her private vow, the details of the inspiration, and now her interior darkness—because of her delicate respect for her relationship with God and His work in her soul, which she treated as something sacred and revealed only to her trusted guides.

Your struggles are sacred while you are in the midst of them. They become what can bring you closer to God with your silence and with your charity towards others even though you are struggling.

Refusing to allow her inner suffering to be an excuse for failing in charity, Mother Teresa was striving to have a ready smile, a kind word, a welcoming gesture for each one. She expected the same from her sisters.

The second virtue she insisted on was silence. To envelop in silence God’s work within her soul, as Mary had at the Annunciation, was for Mother Teresa an expression of reverence and trust. Mary, who “kept all these things in her heart,” was her model and, as in Mary’s case, she hoped that God would intervene in His own time and way.

This is a great challenge for me. To keep silent when I want to whine and to be kinder in the midst of struggles. It is easy to be nice when you feel good, not so much when you feel bad. It was something Mother Teresa specifically picked to work on and it’s something I hope to follow her example in.

Her magnanimous desire to hide her pain even from Jesus was an expression of her great and delicate love. She did all she could not to burden others with her sufferings; even less would she wish her sufferings to be a burden to her spouse, Jesus. Compared to His sufferings and to those of His poor, she did not consider her pain worth calling attention to.  She aspired instead to console His Heart through joy. For this she counted on Mary’s support.

Funny, I hear so many women who complain their husbands never talk to them, never reveal what is going on. Now, I sort of wonder if they have it right, if their husbands are indeed trying to not burden their wives and in doing so, are showing their love, through their silence?

On Babymooning

The term babymooning. I first heard it when I started hanging out with those “crunchy” communities. It was referred to as the time immediately postpartum in which the family is all together with the new baby. I guess it is derived from “honeymoon”, the time a couple takes after their wedding.

With each child that is added, I actually think you need MORE time to bond and just BE together. You need that escape from the world to reaquaint with each other, the other children and the new baby. Unfortunately, the reality of *my* situation is that with each child, that precious time has become shorter. Life happens. Older kids need to be schooled again, money needs to be earned and the outside world interrupts the sacred time.

And tonight is our last night all together. Sure, another weekend will be with us again next week but, it’s not quite the same as the longer period of babymooning. I guess I can only hope that we remember this sacred time and rejoice in it, and it keeps us bonded no matter what the outside world throws at us next.

Changing positions

Today, my husband gave me my 2 year old who had drifted to sleep in the car. I laid down in bed with him and held him. I staggered a bit over his 30+ pound weight. He smelled of sweat and a bit of outside. His body was so long his legs touched my thighs. Not newborn-y at all.

Just 7 days ago, this was my baby. He felt little and so young. And in the last 7 days we have both played the dance of getting to know each other in our new roles. He has been adjusting to me as no longer the baby and I have been adjusting to him in this as well. He goes more to play with his big brothers and to hang with his daddy, less to hang out with mommy.

I know the days that he’ll allow me to hold him in this way are coming to an end. And though I had a list of things running through my head that I should be getting up to do, I just laid there and held my baby, who is no longer my baby, but always will be my baby. And yes, a few tears were shed.

Now we are Six

WARNING: This is a birthing story.

When I was one,
I had just begun.
When I was two,
I was nearly new.
When I was three,
I was hardly me.
When I was four,
I was not much more.
When I was five,
I was just alive.
But now I am six,
I’m as clever as clever.
So I think I’ll be six
now and forever.

-A. A. Milne

–Yes, he is talking about age, but I like it anyway.

I went to bed on August 17th, sending a message to my husband “Maybe we should pack a bag soon….” We had big plans for the coming weekend to get stuff done around the house and um, I guess pack that bag.  My first 3 births were late, so I wasn’t anticipating going early at all. Well, for the first  time, we went early at just over 38 weeks.

I woke up at 1 in the morning from a weird dream having a weird pain. I got up to go to the bathroom and tried to climb back into bed only to realize that um, that was an actual contraction.  And it was repeating.  I decided to time it and realized I had a pattern of 4 minutes apart, but um, they were only 30 seconds long. I thought, that can’t do anything. I sent a text again to my husband to ask if he would get in trouble if I brought him home from work and I wasn’t really in labor. He said, he didn’t know and to keep him posted. I settled back down for another hour.

Well, it kept going. Hmmm…. I sent a message to Gerald to say maybe he should come home though I wasn’t sure how long this was gonna take. I mean, the contractions were still rather light. But everyone tells you when you have multiples it can go straight from nothing to everything quickly. Gerald headed home, thinking I was panicking too early and telling his co-workers he would be back tomorrow. I think he was annoyed at the thought of missing overtime for nothing. Haha ha.

I tried to lay down to rest for a bit since not much was happening and it was still the middle of the night. I figured it might be a long one. Which, sort of worried me. I was really hoping it would get faster, not longer. Oh well.

Gerald made it home about 3. I had dragged some clothes and supplies to a pile in an attempt to get packed. Depending on the position I was in, some of the contractions would last 45 seconds, but then go to 5 or more minutes apart, but they were still continuing. I still felt like they weren’t doing anything and didn’t want to leave yet and get to the hospital too early.

Around…. 5 I think? I called my midwife friend to ask her advice. She listened to me, told me that most likely my little babe had his elbow up and to try taking contractions on either side, hands and knees to try to help him along in rotating into position. I told her they were not doing anything but kept pausing to having a contraction. She secretly thought I was already 3 or 4 but didn’t mention it. Good woman that.

Around 6, I figure it might be okay to call in my mother to come over and sit with the boys since they would start waking up soon. She got there a little before 6:30. And sure enough, my 2 yo awoke just before she got there. Gerald took him down to hang with Grandma. I continued to labor along, still thinking these contractions were useless and doing nothing.

Gerald comes and ask me when I think we should go. I admit I have no idea because um, yeah, we are approaching bad traffic time and have an hour trip ahead but darn it, these contractions are useless even if they are coming really close together and lasting longer…..

Gerald packed the car and we headed to the hospital. For the first time in a pregnancy, labor did NOT stop in the car. Ouch. Now I start wondering if my water is gonna break in the car. That might not be so good….

Arriving at the hospital we start walking in and a sweet worker coming on duty says she’ll bring me a wheelchair. We are walking along, pausing every minute or so for a contraction…. Sitting in labor, not so good. But it got us there faster I suppose.

The silly nurse ask me to get a clean catch urine speciman. I laugh at her thinking I’m going to be able to do this while contracting so frequently. Well, bloody show. I tell her, no, it’s not happening….

The midwife comes in to  check me. It’s 9 am or so. I’m 9 cm dilated. They figure I should be moved immediately to a birthing room.

Now, they are asking me about setting up an IV. I tell them no. They are asking me about pitocin. I say no. I go through the list of things for Gerald to tell them no to so they are aware now. With that out of the way, they figure I know what I’m doing and sort of just say, how can we help you. That’s more like it. I ask several times to change positions. They keep moving the bed. My contractions have slowed down and I can’t find a good position on their stupid bed. I keep tangling up the monitor that silly nurse insist on trying to keep in place but she let’s me keep moving, just keeps changing the thing around me, so that’s cool.

I’m muttering to Gerald “This is no good. It’s not long enough. They aren’t strong enough. I have to find the position. Why isn’t this working?” But mostly, I guess I was handling the contractions pretty well. They just never felt strong enough to finish up.

FINALLY! Find the right position/angle. Pretty much a squat. A few contractions and there comes that pushing urge finally…. The poor midwife didn’t have time to get her gloves on before she had to grab my poor babe before he was completely spit across the room. They didn’t even start the time for me to figure out how long I was pushing for. With a pop, my water broke all over her and she was at work. Possibly a contraction or 2 later, Elijah Tae Ik was born on August 18 at 10:06 am. He had his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck twice, once tight, another lose. But it was so long they didn’t have to cut it and I was able to hold him immediately. He nursed like a CHAMP from that first moment.

My sweet midwife friend was right. An elbow up did cause a tear that was quickly repaired while we waited for the placenta. Again, I asked for a change in position before they got antsy about that delivery…. And again, I was right.

I realize that the reason I felt like it wasn’t strong enough was because I had my first non-posterior labor. Non back labor was EASY. Again, I realize the reason for my calm was because I had really concentrated on getting in tune with what my body was feeling and really focused on that while preparing for labor. I focused on that to the exclusion of figuring out what to pack in the hospital bag or what the take home outfit was going to be. I fully put my trust in my body’s ability to do what it was intended and was blessed that it did.I prepared myself for the idea that it wouldn’t, b/c of the multiple births but prayed that it would. And it did.

As I held my 4th son in my arms my husband leaned over and said “You did great. I’m so proud of you.” And I fell in love more with the man I married 11 years ago. It’s amazing really. How each birth has strengthened my love for my husband and also has expanded this circle of love I have.

And now, we are Six.

Still nesting….. Slowly…..

Things always seem to take more time when you are pregnant. And have little kids who for some reason insist on eating and being entertained even though you are obviously working on something.

And why in the middle of the project does it somehow feel like you made more of a mess when you KNOW you have actually gotten rid of a lot of stuff? And why are there so MANY middle of the projects? Remember when you could start a job and finish it, like all in the same day?

But that’s okay. It gives more time to reflect, more time to plan. For some reason, things seem to need to be planned more then they did when there were just two of us…. So many more futures to forecast and possible scenarios…….

The good thing is to see progress. Not seeing progress or change or not feeling like you are moving towards your goal is the greatest aggravation.

So, I sit in a semi-disaster area. Waiting for the next day to dawn. You know, because I need my husband around to move stuff. And I plan. And work on smaller projects in the mean time.  And try not to get overwhelmed by the further messes the kiddos are making in other areas that I don’t have the energy to get to. You know, because it’s also hot. And I used up my energy reserve on the big project. So. yeah.