Tantrums and Graces of Cheez-Its

A short time ago I wrote about my trip to Target with the kids, and Grace's predictable reaction to being stuck in the seat of the cart: tantrums, tears, and lots of screaming. The snacks I brought pacified her for a while, but I knew that wasn't going to last. Welcome to a typical shopping day for me.

A friend of mine recently related that incident to my own life ... and boy, was she right. I was so overwhelmed with the return of my mom's cancer -- just one more tragedy that I simply could not handle. It was just too much. I screamed, I cried, I yelled "No! No! No!"

I was Grace in that shopping cart, my friend said. God was pushing the cart, and I didn't like it. I was strapped in and I didn't like it. I strained at the seat belt, I cried, I screamed. But God kept pushing that cart. I didn't want to be in that store, or I didn't want God to push that cart down a particular aisle. I threw a fit.

But God gave me snacks; He gave me graces and blessings. He gave me a bag of cheez-its, blessings to sustain me. He gave me a home to live in; He gave me the opportunity to live by my family; He gave my kids their grandparents and cousins; He gave a Don a job that pays enough to meet our needs and gives him a sense of satisfaction. But still I've been asking why, mourning my losses, fighting the pusher of my shopping cart.

Then He gave me a pack of fruit snacks to hold me over -- a church that is so incredibly welcoming and healing for us; a few new friendships; children who are happy and settled and worry-free. I gobbled up these snacks, quiet for a while, but threw down the package and started screaming once again.

God's pushing the cart. If I would just stop fighting it, if I would just stop straining at the seat belt, if I would just sit back and settle in for the ride, munching on my grace-snacks as I go, then I would be a much happier person. If I managed to get free of my seat belt and out of the cart, would I really be able to take away my mom's cancer? Would I be able to see any more clearly why we are where we are on this journey? Pass the snacks, Lord -- I need an extra helping.

A few smile-filled grace-snacks yesterday:

My daughter has a beautiful, giving spirit. After our walk last night, we sat in the yard with our dishes of strawberry cheesecake ice cream. Grace noticed that Jack was left out, having no dessert of his own. Her peel of giggles, as she shared the creamy goodness with an incredulous (and fast-acting) dog, was as sweet as the treat itself.

Looks like Don will be helping out our church's worship team, since they are down a guitarist. He hasn't picked up his guitar in ages (let alone composed), and it was good to see him play again. He made up a fun little song for Aidan, who was pretending to be a firefighter. Grace just adored this new-found cool trick of her father. She danced, she sang, she tried to play along. Now she's picking up the phone, ready to call all her friends to tell them what an awesome Daddy she has.

Graces of the Day

Summer fun is in the works. The playhouse that I purchased for 15-bucks at a garage sale the other week has been paying itself back a hundred-fold. Had to snap a few pix of my kids' household antics. I am choosing to ignore the I'm-almost-two-tantrums this morning. I am choosing to forget the slapping. I am wiping out from memory the screaming between siblings. Instead, focus on the joy:

Of course there are other ways of entry than a plain old door. Both kids, bottoms-up through the windows. Now here's a life-lesson for me: when God closes the proverbial door (and I've had a lot of that lately), just jump through the plastic window.
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Grace trying another tactic ...

Tactic not quite working.

Ah, now she tastes the sweetness of success.

Happy boys make happy moms.

Grace's new haircut. She has a killer cowlick which causes this massive shock of coppery fine, silken hair to fall straight forward, rather than part nicely. She's a foe of hair clips, so she got a retro 70's "pixie cut," kind of like Dorothy Hamill. But girl, you are doomed for crooked bangs if you continue to throw fits in the chair!
(Oh, right ... forgetting about the the tantrums ...)

I love this girl, this grace in my life ... I will never tire of my kids reaching up to me, a thousand thoughts in a beautiful, big-eyed glance ...

A new day

Wow, I actually skipped a day in my blogging adventures! That's OK -- my mind was relatively blank yesterday, plus Don had the day off so we maximized some much-needed family time. We went to Lowe's in the morning, checking out their selection of linoleum for our new kitchen floor project. We all took naps, and then Don gave me a wonderful gift: time alone to go off and do whatever I wanted, sans kids. Hooray! I wanted to search for a gift to give to my mom, to cheer her up post-surgery (I can't write about it here -- she reads my blog and I don't want to spoil the surprise). I hit a few shops (no luck) and then proceeded on to the library. I picked up a new novel (The Queen's Fool by Philippa Gregory), and some movies for Don and me (All the King's Men, and two documentaries -- The Gospel of Judas and Annie Oakley. Yeah, that combination made me laugh too).

Later in the afternoon we took the kiddies to the local wildlife sanctuary, where we saw a fox, red-tailed hawks, a Golden Eagle, deer, fish, giant turtles, snakes, many chipmunks skittering around. Grace's favorite thing in the entire center is the stuffed deer head on the wall. Her excitement at seeing the body-less creature is unparalled, and it just cracks me up. My hunting, woodsman father-in-law would be so proud of his granddaughter. Aidan's favorite part is following a "nature trail" which ends up at a large structure which he called a "treehouse" -- basically a scenic overlook type of thing. Grace fiercely protested that, since her attachment to the stroller kept her on the ground and excluded her from the adventure. So much for taking in the peaceful surroundings, which were pierced by her hideous screams.

My mom's surgery is just a few days away. I think I'm OK with it -- it's just very strange. I have no idea what to expect. But the word "cancer" has not pierced my thoughts with the horrible vengeance of last week, where I was completely leveled by fear. Not good at all. I'm glad God is a forgiving God, because I sure dropped the ball in the faith department! On Tuesday night a small group of people from our church held a healing/prayer service for my mom and it was really beautiful. Powerful, too. It was lead by our intern, and for someone who had never done anything like this before, he really did a fabulous job. It was safe, it was loving, it was an incredible expression of God's love shown in community. This is what it's all about. My mom was so touched by it all, and I think (scratch that, I know) it was something I needed too. I needed my warped mind restored, I needed not chastisement for my complete breaking down but rather loving affirmation. I had been so beaten up (spiritually and emotionally) over the years and somewhere in the midst of that I lost hope, and I lost trust. Witnessing what I did the other night, with these powerful women (and men) of faith was incredible. I want that, I said to myself -- I want that strength of faith, that positive and hopeful spirit. I want that with a fierce possessiveness. I'm not sure I'll get it -- not everyone has those kinds of gifts. But itt was beautiful.

So today is right in front of me -- a new day, a bright day. The blessings? My kids woke up happy. Right now they're running around, giggling and shaking maracas. Grace is getting a haircut in an hour -- I can't wait to see her cuteness.

A Good Day for a Parade

I have to take a break from heavy thoughts for a while. My mom's surgery is a week away, and chemotherapy is likely, so I'm going to have enough heavy stuff on my plate -- I don't need the extra swirling around, which just isn't doing me any good. Oh, I'm sure I'll be thinking ... about a lot of things. But I'll try to refrain from writing it all down here. Too much anguish. Someone said that negative thoughts can become a lifestyle. Can't have any of that now. So on to lighter fare ...

- We were getting ready to leave for a 4th of July parade this morning. Aidan was donning a Philadelphia Eagles jersey (a gift -- we're not fans). I suggested that he wear something red, white, and blue for fun -- kids like to do that kind of thing, right? "Why?" he asked. I explained that today was the 4th of July and launched into a very brief, 4-year-old level of our nation's history and struggle for independence. His response of "Oh" was followed by a lengthy pause, then "But I just want to look cool." Yeah, me too.

- As we drove to the parade, we were behind a pick-up truck with a bumper sticker that read, "Friends Don't Let Friends Use Red Dyed Mulch." I love it!!

- I recently purchased some new underwear for Aidan, and when given the choice to pick out what he wanted, he selected a 3-pack of briefs adorned with some of the characters from the CARS movie. Today he opted to wear Sarge, the military truck, on his butt. After seeing scores of fire trucks, policemen and women, marching bands, and the ones I can never figure out (the Masons and the "Salaam" Shriners), there came a few military vehicles and servicemen and women. "There's Sarge!" screamed Aidan, jumped up from his back seat in the double-stroller, "JUST LIKE MY UNDERPANTS!" We got a few amused looks from those sitting around us.

- The Mayor of the town drove by sitting atop a convertible with his family. "Hey, Mayor!" someone shouted. "Lower my taxes!" A few others chimed in. He yelled back, "I'm working on it! Mine too!" What an awkward, odd moment.

- The Mayor was soon followed by a Congressman, also sitting in a convertible (and probably wishing it was the Popemobile). Same dude shouted, "Hey, Congressman! Stop the war! Enough! We've had enough!" Others again chimed in. The Congressman responded (rather quietly), "We're going in that direction." Interesting response.

We left after an hour -- Grace was starting to fidget. It really was a fun, light-hearted way to spend the day. Tonight we're having a "picnic" (probably indoors, looking at the stormy clouds outside) with my parents, a low-key event yet still a great opportunity to try out some new recipes: cowboy steak and honey-mustard chicken with lemon and curry. Maybe this is my new discipline -- instead of trying to think so much, work things out in my head ... just really enjoy each day, and find at least one thing to appreciate: a new word from my daughter, a precious moment with my kids, a laugh with my husband, a new bloom in my garden (my daisies are up now, by the way), a newly discovered delectable dish, a memory shared. Today has been a good day.

Aidan took this picture and asked if I would post it -- one of his favorite scenes, the Shriners driving around in these really weird mini-cars.

Precious Moments

OK, live in the moment. Take a deep breath, look around, enjoy the view:

Two beautiful children, not fighting. An absolutely gorgeous, heat-free day. A ratty, homemade tent clothes-pinned to the clothesline, held down by bricks and decorative rabbits. A Toys-R-Us catalog. A "big brother" showing his little sister all the cool things they can get. Grace's new word for the day: "opp-a-chip" (octopus). They are very, very hopeful. They should make a figurine out of these two.

Donning wings (or pirate hats)

It's so easy for kids to escape. Just don a pirate costume -- or any costume other than your own skin -- and you're off. Do they even know how lucky they are? No, of course not.

"Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest." Psalm 55:6

David sure had the right idea. He was thinking more along the lines of avian creatures rather than pirates, but the thought is the same. I wonder if they sell a sturdy pair of wings at the Dollar Store ...

Target, Tassels, and Tough Times

I went shopping at Target yesterday. I guess that must mean I'm wrestling with anxiety. I knew it wasn't going to be a perfect outlet, though -- Grace is in this phase now where she hates sitting in a shopping cart. So I knew that the fruit snacks and cheez-its would only last so long before the whining, the tears of frustration, the straining at the seat belt would commence. That only adds to my anxiety, making my shopping experience very unpleasant. And then there's Aidan, who for some reason becomes absolutely clueless when he enters a large store and can't seem to figure out that he needs to watch where he's going. I stopped counting the number of carts he ran into, how many times I said "excuse me" on his behalf, how many times I ran my own cart into the backs of his heels. But I guess I needed to shop.

I picked up the usual: paper towels and t.p., paper plates and napkins, Children's Tylenol, the biggest box of size 5 diapers I could find, a bag of Starbucks' Cafe Verona (bold) whole bean coffee, new underwear for Aidan, etc. Nothing for me -- that would be rare. I was completely annoyed upon leaving the store to find that some Orthodox Jewish young man (or Conservative, I couldn't tell the difference -- but the curls and the long white tassels hanging off his belt loops caught my attention) parked his car not only next to mine, but in my own parking space. He was far over the line and at most six inches from the driver's side of my car. He just looked at me and continued walking. What do you do in those strange circumstances? I had to climb in through the other side, hoist Grace over the back of the seat and literally toss her into her seat (since I couldn't obviously open her door). Then I had the very undignified task of climbing over the center console into my own seat, doing a very pathetic Britney Spears' imitation and flashing the Target customers in the lot, since climbing in a short denim skirt is, well, not what I had in mind for the morning.

It was a strange morning, but a good diversion. My mom spent all morning at the hospital undergoing a PET scan. It all seems so surreal sometimes. I wake up in the morning and often do think this has been some kind of bad dream. It takes about 10 seconds for reality to settle in, and then the heart feels a bit heavier. Oh, right, THAT'S what is going on ...

I've been thinking about my own spiritual journey and the unbelievable hard knocks it's taken. I thought of my grandma and how she relied on her faith and her own worn, tattered, rubber-band-bound Bible right up to the very end; I thought of my mom who despite her fears keeps saying with strong faith, "I don't know why this is happening, but I know God is with me." But what shape has my faith taken? I realized today that I've experienced a lot of things that many people have not, nor ever will. I further realized that my own faith, my own image of God, my own thoughts and understandings and what I have always relied upon have been shaken up. Now that's not always a bad thing -- if nothing else, it forces you to get out of your faith's comfort zone and cease to take it for granted. But lately it hasn't been feeling like a good thing. What I've been feeling is that I'm not sure what "rock" I'm leaning against anymore. Oh, I'm not doubting God's existence or anything like that. But those assurances, those promises, that faith that people like my grandmother fell back upon so effortlessly ... where is that? In the process of my own "shaking up," all I sense right now is the swirling sediment, with no real "form" to grasp. And perhaps that's why I feel the fear that I do, in those weak moments where I just cannot stay strong anymore.

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Last night we received a much-needed break. My sister-in-law offered to take the kids for dinner so we could go out. Amazing! We went to a cute, wealthy, picture-perfect little town nearby and ate at a pub-type place. They are known for their huge and ecclectic offering of beer. I couldn't resist ordering something purely by its name: Smuttynose Old Brown Dog Ale. Who could pass that up?! Those two hours without the kids was ... too short. Far, far too short. But priceless all the same.

More ramblings, perhaps getting more incoherent by the post! Sometimes things are just too big to think about for long, before mental exhaustion sinks in. Oh, how I wish with all my heart, all my being that we didn't have to face this now.