A Mother's Rest: Is It Ever a Reality?

On Sunday, I sat in the pew to hear our church's youth pastor present the sermon to the congregation. The topic covered? Rest. Relaxation. God's view of it, even God's commandment for it. The pastor used Genesis 2 as his sermon text and built an excellent case for the necessity of rest for practical reasons, the ways rest show a trust in and dependence on God, and the counter-cultural aspects of a persons pursuing rest.

He talked too about how often we are forced to rest: sleep at night (our bodies eventually give out), sickness, changes to schedules (such as bad weather that interrupts plans). The ice storm of December 2013 was given as an example. For four days, Fort Worth was essentially shut down. He beautifully described how those four days forced him to step away from work, to nap, to enjoy food and friends. It sounded wonderful.

But I chuckled.

I actually had to keep myself in check. I nearly laughed out loud . . . at the wrong moment.

The ice storm of 2013 bringing chances for rest, naps and such?

Clearly this man does not have children.

Wait! I am NOT saying children are a burden or a negative. That's not what I mean AT ALL. But I am saying, from a mother's perspective, the ice storm was likely not a chance for rest. Consider this: Kids are out of school or other regularly planned activities, meaning more meals to cook (breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner), meaning more dishes to wash. Who organizes and prepares the crafts? Digs outs the movies? Referees the arguments? Kids want to play outside in said ice, even though it is ice and cannot be formed into balls or people or angels. This requires a special set of clothes. And who dresses everyone? Plays outside with the kids? Undresses everyone? Cleans up the icy mess? Provides dry, warm clothes and cozy blankets. Who makes the hot chocolate? And cleans laundry and cups? (Why does this feel like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. . . ) For four days in the relaxing ice storm. You get the point.

As the good pastor pointed out, rest is not easy; it's difficult to come by. We buy into the notion that more is more. That checking off the to-do list makes us something, proves something. We trick ourselves into believing constant motion will satisfy our need for approval, success, acceptance. The doing and going secures our future, means we are in control--or so we think. And mothers absolutely fall into these categories and more; I know I do.

But for the most part, mothers cannot rest. We are, in fact, working not only to keep other humans alive, but also to nurture and encourage and inspire and instruct. Even if I'm ill or we're stuck inside due to inclement weather, mothering doesn't stop. Questions to answer. Cries to soothe. Meals to prepare. Games to play. Discipline to enact.

So what am I to do with Sunday's sermon?

1. While the option for naps is not as often as I'd like, I will take one when I can. :-) I will be intentional about pursuing rest in the small ways my life allows. I will remember that God is sovereign. True meaning in all my work is found in Him.

2. I acknowledge that this season of life, mothering little ones, is not a season offering many opportunities for rest. And that's okay. I can trust God to give what I need when I need it. I can trust God to use the struggles and weariness for His glory.

Launch Day! Legendary Locals of Fort Worth

In the fall of 2010, I received an email about Arcadia Publishing's new book series, Legendary Locals. The email also informed me the publisher was looking for someone to write the Fort Worth edition. After a little thought, I inquired. Weeks later I was asked to complete the proposal application.

And then it was summer 2011. I had a new baby. Arcadia wanted me to take on the Legendary Locals of Fort Worth project . . . but not yet. The book was tabled for now. Honestly, I exhaled a long sigh of relief. Remember, I had a new baby. That's no time for writing books.

And then it was summer 2012. Arcadia wanted to know if I was still interested. After months (literally) of applications, proposals, committees, marketing inquiries, sample captions, and project parameters, Legendary Locals of Fort Worth was a go. Along the way, I also picked up a writing/researching partner, Joan Kurkowski-Gillen, who turned out to be a valuable aid and mentor. (God knew what He was doing!)

By spring 2013, Joan and I were knee deep in preliminary research; and by fall, we were neck deep in writing and photo hunting. Maybe near drowning at one point. (I think both our husbands would give that a hearty "Amen.")

But that's all a memory now.

It's May 19, which is not only my nephew's birthday, it's launch day for Legendary Locals of Fort Worth. It's here. It's for sale. It's on store shelves. It's online.

Whew.

I'd be thrilled if you visited the Facebook page I created to promote the book. I'd be even more thrilled if you hit "Like." And I'd be really thrilled if you shared it with your friends.

It was a lot of work--and a lot of fun, mostly because Fort Worth people are so interesting, so captivating. I hope in some small way, Legendary Locals of Fort Worth captures the grit and grace of a city Joan and I have come to call home.

Anna-isms #7

Back in the day (as in high school) when I worked a part-time job at a daycare, I thoroughly enjoyed teaching a 3-year-old class during the summer. I remember thinking that three was a pretty fun age. Now that I get the privilege of parenting a three-year-old cutie, I concur with my adolescent conclusion. Three just might be my favorite so far, even given the "threenager" tendencies noted by myself and other mom friends. Three is fun. Three is funny. Three is entertaining!

For example . . .

No matter what or when you ask, the answer is always the same:

Me: What time is it?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: How much do you weigh?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: How much does that cost?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: How much money do you have?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: When will Daddy get home?
A: Four nine thirty.

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After doing an excellent job as flower girl in her cousin's wedding (while sporting double ear infections, mind you), Anna ran to her Mimi during the ceremony, exclaiming, "But I still have flowers in my bucket."

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During a recent thunderstorm, as the storm was leaving our area, we heard some distant thunder. Anna looks straight at me, completely serious, "Mommy, did you toot?"

Child, child . . . .

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Swiper the Fox lives under our kitchen table. A mean witch lives in various places around the house. We must run any time she's mentioned--in delight, I might add. The "pets," a.k.a. stuffed animals routinely need to visit the doctor for a shot. Acorns are treasures and need to be accumulated en masse.

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When Anna was up from 10:30 p.m. until 1:00 a.m. with the above mentioned double ear infections, we chatted and snuggled on her bed, hoping sleep would soon come. During one conversation, she rolls on me, gets right in my face, and says, "Do you hear that howling?" There was no howling. "That's the night creatures. They're outside." Afraid she was feeling afraid or creating scary images in her mind, I pushed her further to figure out what she meant. "Mom, it's the owls. They are going hoo hoo howling. They are waking me up."

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Still can't get out the "f" sound so it's:

Hix (fix)
Hunny (funny)
Hound (found)
Hinger (finger)
Hong (phone)
Hip hop (flip flop)
Hee (three)
Whore (four)
Hive (five)

Also, Dis-a-na-wee-land (Disneyland)

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This happens during nap time at least twice a week.

Notice the concert ends with a bow, a "yay Anna," and some humble "tank you, tank you's."

The Latest Development in the Eye Saga

It's been ages since I blogged here. Forgive me, please. In the next days, I'll catch you up reaaaaalll soon. Promise.

But in the meantime, here's my obligatory update on the whole LASIK debacle. A visit with the ol' doc on Friday revealed my eyes are now stable and ready for round two of surgery. And I'm even MORE excited to report I only need surgery in my left eye! Woot. Woot.

Apparently since my vision was so poor (-6.75), the swelling and trauma was a bit more severe than with other LASIK patients. Thus, why I was sooo blurry for several weeks. My right eye has now stabled out at nearly 20/20, which only happened about three weeks ago. My left eye is now at -0.75 and is sporting astigmatism. So those two issues will be corrected during the next surgery on May 29.

My doc assures me that this surgery will be less . . . less painful, less stressful, and less time under the laser. Let's hope he's right.

New Round of Updates: Adoption, Allergies, and Eye Surgery

It's been a whirlwind month. What's the date? I have no idea!

After five months of zero news, we experienced a little blimp on the adoption radar. When you see Hope Cottage show up on your caller ID at 6:00 p.m., it can only mean one thing. :-) We were presented a birth mother/baby situation and weighed the options. In efforts to keep the matter private, we'll just say that we chose not to show our profile book.

It's always difficult when these scenarios present themselves, but we feel confident about our decision. It did provide some hope that this second adoption will be a reality. All in God's timing, right?

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We experienced a scary evening a couple weeks back when Anna accidentally ingested a cracker containing sesame. Immediately, Bryan gave her a dose of Benadryl. She had zero reaction, which led to relieved parents and some questions.

On Friday, the doctor tested for her sesame allergy again, and like a champ, she "scored" out of the ballpark. She definitely has a severe sesame allergy still. So, there are three possible reasons why she did not react when she ate the cracker:

1. The bites she ate did not actually contain any sesame.
2. When the sesame is baked, it loses the antigen that causes her reaction.
3. The daily Zyrtec she takes was enough antihistamine to thwart an escalating reaction.

Because sesame is such a rare allergy here in the States, research info is lacking. The doctor doesn't have much to offer in terms of what to expect from the allergy as she grows or what form is most potent, etc. So we just go with what we know and strive to keep her safe and sound.

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I'm a frequent flyer at the eye doctor these days. :-) But let's toss some confetti because my eyes have improved quite a bit. Yeah, yeah, I'm still not at 20/20, but my vision, even without my glasses, is much crisper. Hallelujah! 

Next month, the doc will measure my eyes up to three times to determine if my vision has stabilized. If so, then surgery--a more successful surgery--is in my May future.

My Anna & My Deanna

A few nights ago, Anna asked, "Where's your mama?"

I replied, "In heaven."

"What's hers name?" (Not a typo. Totally how she speaks.)

"Her name is Deanna. That's why I named you Anna. She's Deanna. And you're Anna."

And that was that.

But my mind has not stopped thinking about it. What she must think. The concept of me having a mother. Why don't I see or she see my mother. I think about the questions that will come in the future.

So I whipped up a few answers.

It's no secret that my relationship with my mother was rocky. There were more stressful conversations than pleasant ones throughout the last 15 years or so. But the best day I had with my mom happened in April 2011. The day I brought Anna to meet her.

We traveled with our new wee one in tow to Van Buren for a day trip for my Arkansas family to meet her. I was feeling nervous, protective, and anxious as I worried about what possibly could go wrong during the visit.

No doubt my face revealed my surprise when we entered my mom's house. I was shocked with the greeting.

Mom was dressed up in grey trousers and a purple shirt. Her hair was fixed nice. She looked put together, energetic, calm. She looked happy.

The house was extra clean and neat. I could see the effort she put into her appearance, her house, the whole thing because she was excited to meet my baby. I'm not sure how to express what that meant to me. It was the kindest, most loving act. It still brings me to tears.

The entire visit went without a hitch. And in future visits, my mom would even travel to see Anna; something she rarely did thanks to her failing health and unsteady emotions.

So I will be sure Anna knows that Grandma Deanna loved her . . . that Anna brought joy to heart that endured too much hurt . . . that Grandma Deanna celebrated her well. Grandma Deanna loved to listen to Anna babble on the phone, delighted in my stories of milestones, and chuckled at her mishaps. Anna was a bright spot in our relationship.

And I'll also tell Anna about the day we buried my mother.

After the graveside service, I stayed behind along with my brothers and uncle. Because she was cremated, the burial process is less involved. Before the last shovels of dirt did their job, I placed a yellow rose (my mom's favorite flower) in the grave per my niece's request. (She wanted to do it but couldn't because it was too painful.) Of course, I was weepy.

Seconds after I placed the rose, my 20-month-old daughter grabbed a yellow rose from a nearby arrangement and placed it in my mom's grave. Then I was really weepy. I know. I know. She was just mimicking my actions, but it was a really special moment for me. One I wish my mother knew.

While Anna Zane doesn't remember meeting Deanna, I hope to teach Anna about her life and about how God works redemption in the most magnificent, unbelievable ways. So this one's for the two leading ladies of my life--my Anna & and my Deanna.

Was Blind, But Now I See

Sure I may have inflammation in my right eye (explains the halo effect).

Sure I'm going back to the doc in two weeks.

Sure I'm having surgery again in May.

BUT I DO NOT CARE TONIGHT, FRIENDS! Why? Because I am wearing glasses with a "pretty close" prescription.

I can see! I can drive! I can read! I can get back to functioning like a normal person!

Originally, the doc told me he wouldn't give me a script for glasses until the one-month mark, which was March 6. This afternoon I visited the doc again. My right eye has worsened likely due to inflammation; so I'm back on steroid drops for two weeks. He also thinks this inflammation is why I can only see 20/30 when refracted. But after some begging and desperation on my part, he relented and gave me a prescription for glasses. I may or may not have sang a bar of the "Hallelujah Chorus" right there in the chair.

In two weeks, I will return to see Dr. Warren for a check-up and to discuss more seriously a time table for surgery in May.

But I am so relieved to to be able to see clearer. Whew.