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Looking for Rhythm

This is a “preaching to myself” post.  What I need to hear/remind myself right now.

One thing I like schedules for:

  • To show that it’s possible (or not) for everything to be done that needs to be done.

If you are looking for advice (wonderfully detailed, practical advice) on how to assemble a schedule, look at the resource Managers of their Homes at Titus2.com. That is where I got the information I am about to share with you.

The funny thing is that my newly-promoted-to-manager husband attended a training seminar not long before I started processing this information, and he said this method (minus the acknowledgment of God) is the same as he was taught in his workshop.

~ ~ ~

The most useful thing to start with is a basic understanding of God, his character, and your place in his world.

As I have enjoyed quoting before: “God does not have to depend on human exhaustion to get His work done.” And, “There is enough time in each day to get done what God wants you to get done.”

With this in mind, prayerfully make a list of what you feel God wants you to get done in a day.

Not what you think you “should” get done or really *want* to get done (there are still approximately 3 more instruments I want to learn to play).

Seek God’s will, try to see through his eyes.

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Countdown

I am so hungry for closure right now.

We only have until October 27, and then our contractual relationship with our realtor will end.

The house will be off the market for the amount of time it takes for their buffer-zone (where they claim their full commission despite being out of contract) to expire, and then it will be up to us.

I wanted to start this way, but considering only 3 or 4 houses like ours have sold in the six months we’ve been on the market (and we might not have know that on our own), I’m thankful we went “by the book” at first.

Jay plans to take off of work two extra days after we’re off-market, in order to help us move back in.  This is a huge blessing, especially considering he’s been completely comfortable with the Spartan lifestyle of the last six months.

It’s the kids and I who’ve been missing our comfort objects.

For six months we’ve maintained our house “by the book,” keeping the rooms set up as the professional stager advised.

This has been hard for me on a few levels, especially considering how much I enjoy rearranging in our little house. It’s always made me feel rather creative.

Now (or rather, in three weeks) we will be *living* in our own house again.  Yes, we’re still trying to sell– later– but for now we’re changing things back to our own:

The extra room will no longer house an unused bed.  It will return to the domain of books and toys (did I mention that we had a solid wall of bookcases in that room?  The longest wall. And all those books have been in boxes for this time).

And I freely admit that one of the biggest things I learned this season was that books are my comfort-object.  I’ve decided most adults have one: if it’s not a cell phone it’s a key wad, purse/wallet or pocketknife.

We will still be in ambiguity– not sure if God intends for us to stay in this home or move– but I anticipate a much more comfortable level of ambiguity.

One that might even include a dish-drainer and a Kitchen-Aid mixer again.

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When was the last time you cried while laughing?

Today, for me.

Here’s the scene:

Oh, yay, it’s snowing. Oops. I haven’t shoveled the yard in a bunch of days.  Ugh, that means I have to get dressed to go outside.  I was hoping to avoid that while sick.

[Be the adult, get dressed for the day {about noon} and stagger out to the living room realizing that simple act consumed my energy allotment for the hour.]

Thank God Jay’s back from his morning of running errands.  Collapse on the couch and confess negligence and abdication of scooping responsibility.

About this time Elisha comes back inside, glowing with smiles and cold.

Don’t worry Mama we saw it.  It’s not buried yet.

Now, I have already forgotten both that I’d offered the excitement of watching mama race the snow and a 4-year-old’s interest in poop.  I was only sick and tired and annoyed that one of my articulate children once again used a pronoun instead of a noun that would actually convey information.

I have grown to hate the words it and thing with severe intensity.  They’re like serotonin inhibitors– filling a hole that would normally be a channel, or at least a resting place, for something that could contribute a great deal more than the current squatter.

When I finally understood what the boy was talking about, he also conveyed that he and his sister were (helpfully!) doing what they could to make sure the piles were still visible.  Actively “brushing away” the still accumulating snowfall.

Keeping a straight face I politely informed him that I don’t want that job done any more, and asked him to leave things as they lay till Mother can deal with them herself.

Oh you don’t have to worry about that, Mama.

I am now worried.  This is a new phrase for him.

I be sure to stomp it.

How this could, in his mind be either helpful or reduce my inclination to worry, I think I’ll never know.  I was ready for a good cry by this point, and here was as good a trigger as any.  Jay was home and I could retreat for a little private catharsis.  But I couldn’t even speak, I was laughing so hard.  Tears streamed down my face, and poor Jay had to wait quite a while for my answer to, “What did he say?”

So I got my cry in the best possible way.  And yeah, I feel better, too.


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If We’re not Striving for Perfect

What’s the alternative?

Has anything is this world been accomplished by pursuing the mediocre? Or the minimum?  Jesus himself set the bar pretty high: Be perfect.

I understand the calls away from such “impossible” standards, though.  We could get terrifically discouraged by never meeting a goal we were seriously striving for. So where’s the middle ground?

One of my measures I use for “appropriate engagement” (if perfectionism is a bad word) is Paul’s admonition “Only let us live up to what we have already attained.”

I thought that it was brilliant when I first came up with it.  After all, I’m human, and weak and all that, so I’m not shooting too high. And I’m not comparing myself with someone else.

But as I tried actively to apply it I still became discouraged, because, well, I really do have moments of amazing. And they are far less than consistent.

How can I justify that?  How can I explain the difference between that woman who can corral and motivate a dozen children between the ages of 3 and 7, and the woman who has to remind herself to smile and speak kindly to those same delightful children when she’s completely uninterested?

How can I — when I’m not even working on my novel— explain the difference between effortless maintenance of my home and the soul-swallowing discouragement of a kitchen I can’t keep clean.

I don’t quite beat myself up over it, but I have wondered a long time.

When I guessed there might be a hormonal connection I got really discouraged, because here was something completely beyond my control.  It made me feel incredibly weak (or insulted) to imagine I only had a particular ability because of largely random timing. That I couldn’t expect it to last.

It felt so unfair and unnatural.

Then I thought of your typical cold-blooded lizard.

I swear this is not a reflection on my self-image. 😉

Here is a creature *completely* dependent on elements outside its control.

A lizard on a sunny day can seem almost magically fast, energized, and even clever.  That same critter in winter (or in the cool of night) seems like a different animal altogether.

The encouraging thing, if one chooses to see it this way, is that the lizards don’t even try to do the same things (or not to the same level) when it’s not warm enough to engage their full powers.

In addition they have coping/survival skills in place for those anticipated times when they will be vulnerable. They make different choices and behave differently in order to maximize their available resources.

So that’s been my thinking lately– how best to maintain an even keel when the energy is lacking in a particular area. How to have a meaningful double standard for those things I don’t (consistently) soar in.

I am not interested in “curing” perfectionism.  I still strive for it, because I believe in that I am being obedient to Christ. But I maintain hope, because of God’s promise that

He knows what we are made of,
remembering that we are dust.

And I know that if I wasn’t “striving,” I would not have discovered the many delights God was ready to bless me in.

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Sometimes I Wonder

Whether I’m trying to do too much.

The to-do/to-learn list generated today (just for the kitchen. Yes we did school):

  • Make Ketchup (this recipe or this one look too adventurous for now. I’ll start here.)
  • Make “un-soy” sauce — since we can’t eat soy anymore (had this with lettuce rolls last night.  Wonderful.)
  • Prep Peaches/nectarines for food drier
  • Learn how to make lard
  • Research how to make coconut yogurt (For my goal of getting us dairy-free for at least 3 or 4 weeks, to see if it helps)
  • Sandwich bread
  • Make laundry detergent (the girls are looking forward to seeing/participating with this one)
  • Ham and chicken chowder (so the thawed meat is used in a timely manner)

And, yeah, it is too much, actually.

I even removed making graham crackers from the list.

But since going gluten-free, I sort of see this doing-too-much as a sort of “overhead” for the life we’re growing into. The un-soy, for example, or any number of breads and baked goods in their all their (tiny-amounts-of-multiple-ingredients) glory, is something I know how to manage now.

And I like how it leads to my being both more organized and tidy.

I used to leave the flour and sugar out when I moved on to mixing up my batter/dough/etc., but six jars jars on the counter will cramp my sense of space to work in.

So I’ve gotten really consistent about putting stuff away as soon as I’m done using it.

I feel like I’m getting the hang of this, even as I wrestle with how far I have to go (where it doesn’t take all my focus to stay on top of).  Because the big deal to me is that I have a known-something to do.

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Single-Tasking

I still think my favorite quote from the TV show Bones was from an interview the title character gave on daytime television.

Interviewer (paraphrased): How do you balance your two careers as world-renown forensic anthropologist and best-selling author?

Brennen: I do one, and then, the other.

~ ~ ~

With the least provocation my mind can leap nearly anywhere, and in the last month I’ve been trying more and more to consciously single-task.

That is, for a while I thought even if I couldn’t do multiple things at the same time, I could be really coordinated and mathematical, overlapping things in a way that would allow for multiple finishes falling out after multiple beginnings. But I learned even that is still beyond my skill-level.

I’m trying to decide if I’m okay with Brennen’s technique (that is, I know I’m not, but I’m wondering if I should be).

There are two things I’m currently learning about single tasking.

  1. To stay focused on what I’ve started, and not get anxious about what’s not happening when my mind jumps there (I still haven’t ordered ballet stuff or pictures, but I am not going to let this food go to waste).
  2. Figure out where to put that collection of littles so they get done (I need to order ballet stuff, so it’ll be here by next class, even though we won’t have it tomorrow).

~ ~ ~

On Wednesday, yesterday, I got more done on a to-do list than maybe I ever have since the beginning of creating to-do lists.

I read to my kids, too, and broke up bickerings and soothed bruised feelings, but I was really focused on the to-do list, and had to wonder if that’s why siblings were so efficient at bruising (albeit not physically) one another.

~ ~ ~

On Tuesday, the day before, I had one of those “ultimate” homeschooling moments that went on for at least an hour.

We had a long drive to make, and (thankfully) my children travel well.  The car is a sort of way I get my physical/mental “space” in the day (children are in their places, I’m in mine; they usually entertain themselves and I can zone out in my own thoughts or with the music).

On our way out of town we passed a long line of cars with Joe Miller signs, spurring questions and I began to talk about elections. I tried to say he was running for Senate, but my 4-, 6-, & 7-year-olds didn’t know what Senate meant.

In the last year I’ve been through the whole DVD series of The Truth Project where the lecturer in one episode pointed out the three branches of government came out of Isaiah. So, starting with that verse I began an extemporaneous description about the three branches of government that lasted something like an hour.

It began with political signs and culminated in a touch on the Civil Rights Movement and a character portrait of Ruby Bridges, the 6-year-old black girl who represented the integration of education.

Now, granted, the children were a captive audience, but the amazing thing was that I kept getting distracted (oops, we missed our turn-off) and every time I’d stop talking one of the girls would beg (just like they do when I’m telling a story), “Keep telling us about the Three Branches of Government, Mom!”

When I got to the part about President Lincoln issuing the Emancipation Proclamation (We’ve been reading a lot of slave escape stories) the back seat erupted in cheers. And I was sad to tell them it didn’t mean anything till the end of the war, and even then it took about another 100 years before Ruby Bridges, a little 6-year-old (“Just your age, Melody!”) was allowed to go to the same schools as white children.

“But that’s not kind, Mama!”

Oh I am thankful for my children’s tender hearts.

~ ~ ~

If I’m allowed to look at my days as a whole, I know I am doing everything, and getting better at doing it well. But looking at my children’s needs, I know I need to do differently.

At some point I hope to learn how to multi-task well enough to give that kind of talk while I’m making “fabulous progress” on my to-do lists.

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Options Without Energy

I just got home from shopping. Mini pizzas are in the oven (built on cornmeal pancakes left over from breakfast) for lunch, and I’m already tired.

In this transition to a gluten-free life, I’m finding that actually putting food on teh table is easy enough, provided a few key assumptions are fulfilled.  For example, I assume the children will entertain themselves long enough for me to cook things from scratch.

I assume I have gluten-free foods in the house to combine.

And perhaps the largest invisible assumption is that I will have the energy to stand there and implement the plan (did I mention I have a plan? That’s not actually something I can assume).

So I’ve assumed the first (based on experience), been shopping to provide options to match a recently concocted plan, but now I’m swimming against the current to support the third assumption, and am going to have to find it whether or not it’s forthcoming.

Ready to do, I have:

  • Boneless skinless chicken thighs (my favorite quick-meal base) to cook and/or add to the other bits I have waiting.
  • Peaches to can (or turn into jam if it’s too late for that)
  • shredded cheese to package
  • kitchen to clean (so I can process the food)
  • Various greens to make salads (I’ve been craving salads for more than a week)
  • Blueberries to make Blueberry syrup
  • wilting leeks, ready to be added to a favorite recipe
  • Broccoli for a good cream-of soup (only, I forgot to buy milk today)
  • I also have a few zucchini I was gifted, but they were rubbery when they arrived, so I won’t feel guilt if they turn out to be unusable.

What I’m really excited about, though, is that I have a plan and now ingredients for some really yummy soups I can do in my crock pot or on the stove. My next gluten-free goal is to find a good soda-bread or biscuit recipe to have someting familiar with our new soups.

I placed an order last week with Azure Standard for a bunch of gluten-free grains and flours, so I might wait until that arrives before I get really serious.

For now, my highest goal is just to keep ahead of food going bad, since I don’t have energy for more.

And God only knows if I have enough for this.

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Whoops, it’s been a While.

And I’m not apologizing, because I’ve been working hard, but *man* it’s been busy.

Usually I like to blog as a memory-keeper, or a processing assistant, but while we’ve had lots happening (and I’ve had plenty to process, believe me) it hasn’t happened at a time to write.

I have been thankful to find a generous serving of gluten-free blogs, and will be adding a specific category to my sidebar (today, I hope: my browser windows are getting pretty congested.)

We’ve been eating (nearly) gluten-free for about a month now.  We’re still minimizing dairy and soy (and I’m *avoiding* eggs), but gluten is the one I’m not budging on.

Since going gluten-free my thoughts and emotions have been much less cloudy, and my energy has been up.  And as challenging as it is, gluten-free is the most discretely (as in, clean, individual, recognizable steps) doable.

Everything requires multiple steps before I can begin, and I get frustrated at how I’m not organized enough to have food ready before we’re all hungry. Frustrated that I turn into a bear (yes, even with the bear-outbreaks I’m sticking with my assertion I’m more stable). I do have days when it works, and I wish I took better notes, so I know why and can try to recreate those days.

One thing that helps is keeping dried fruits and nuts in the house (other than peanuts and almonds, that is). I’m getting to where I think of those before I stretch too far and the quick sugar/fat/protein combo is very helpful.

We’ve purchased a manual grain mill that we’re using to grind our gluten-free grains into a variety of flours. I am totally game to make pasta now, except the pasta maker we were given has been packed into who-knows-what-box. (I’m missing my Vitamix too, but that’s another story)

So I’m learning how to cook completely new things.  And it’s not for our health.  As in, I’m not yet trying to eat “organic” or “local” or to get the kids to consume their 5-a-day of fruits and veggies (I’m happy if they get one!).  I’m just trying to keep food in their tummies and aches out of their bodies.

And, you know, other than meal times (as in, “Mama, my tummy hurts, can I have a snack?” “Nope it’s dinner time, you’re supposed to be hungry.”) we haven’t been having complaints any more.

It’s a truckload of work, I shouldn’t even have my feet up right now– I should be cleaning the kitchen while my kids are watching their movie, so we can try (another) new recipe today.  But it’s good to stop for a minute and say, Wait-a-minute, yeah, I think it’s working!

Tummies took a while to adjust, but I think we’re stabilized now, and have a good idea where to seek our path.

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(Avocado) Chocolate Pudding

K, We’ve got our first “safe” recipe, based off this one.

flesh of 1 avocado
1/4 cup cocoa powder
1/4 cup honey
1/2 tsp vanilla
pinch salt
3-4 ice cubes

Blend until desired consistency.  This can be challenging if you don’t have a talented blender: everything is already thick, and stays thick. You’ll want a means of pressing stuff back into the blades.

The original recipe is like strong chocolate pudding.  Mixing in ice moves it toward a more frosty-like desert.

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Life is Getting Complicated

So, lets see.  This has been a busy week.

Sunday:

  • Distributed 6 copies of my novel
  • Realized M’s b-day was the next day and I had *no* plans
  • Didn’t get to freaking out or worrying before God provided for a party opportunity.

Monday:

  • Melody’s 6th birthday
  • “Monday Marvels” at UAF was about physics. Primarily waves, and applied by measuring the speed of sound and the speed of light (live, in front of ~70 people). Highlights included
    • the chocolate burning in the microwave (which apparently didn’t really matter because the presenter had pre-preped his light-measuring ingredient, and
    • Natasha winning her daddy a cool university sweatshirt (she was very proud of this) by coming up with the elements of a wave’s speed.
      • Frequency and wave-length, if I remember right.
  • And Grandma Teena flew in to Fairbanks, for just one night, and the children were thrilled at the chance to see her (though, a little confused in the morning. She had to leave before they woke).

Tuesday:

  • Spent the day getting ready for the 2:00 party:
    • made a train out of four little loafs of crazy cake
      • The recipe for which I had to pull out of my head: apparently  packed my hand-written recipe book.
      • The kids had a ball sticking candy all over the frosted cars, mostly piling it on top, as if they were full and carrying hoppers of M&Ms and Jelly Bellies.
      • Used black licorice to connect to cars, and red to lay out the tracks under the cars.
    • Also made strawberry shortcake, because (After I had mixed up the crazy cake) Melody seemed to realize what I was making and asked if she could have a white cake.  I was very thankful she agreed to shortcake, because I didn’t want to decorate two cakes.
  • The Party was perfect.
    • a pile of church friends were there, including her *best* friend, who, perfectly, gave her the best present– one she’d wanted for a long time.
    • The cake went just far enough, there was ice cream, and everybody got to climb the ladder by the house to see the baby robins (!) in Grandma Judy’s hanging basket.

Wednesday the hard stuff started:

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