I have recently been reading some wonderful books by Wanda E. Brunstetter. These books are fictional stories about the Amish people who live in different areas around the country.
I have always been curious about the Amish way of life, which is truly unique and deeply spiritual. These books seem to give a fairly true account of their way of life and outlook, even though the stories themselves are fiction. If you are interested in the Amish, want to know about their way of life, or are looking for a good set of books, I highly recommend those by Mrs. Brunstetter.
Sometimes I have wondered if I would do better, and enjoy my life more, as an Amish woman. At this point in my life, it is not an option for me to convert to the Amish church, and I don't know that I ever will be able to, but I still wonder if I would like it. They don't worry about the way their clothes look, or how much money they have. That is not what is important to these people. They wear simple clothes, usually home-sewn, and lead simple lives. They are called "Plain" because that is how their lives seem to us, who have so many things. I have discovered, through these books, that their life is anything but plain. It is a rich, strong community which holds to its members to its principles without violence or hate. Are they perfect? Of course not, no human could be. But their focus in life is not how much stuff they can get, how good of job they can find, how much they can pamper themselves or any other of a million things that people go after besides being closer to God. That is what their life is about: they simply want to be closer to God. I think that is beautiful.
Many people say that their goal in life is to be closer to God. I believe that it is possible for anyone to be closer to God. The Bible says it is more likely that a camel would go through the eye of a needle than that a rich man would enter the Kingdom. I don't believe that this refers to being monetarily rich. I think it refers to being 'rich' of self. If you are so convinced of your own superiority (even if you think you are spiritually superior) then you are rich of self. Instead, like the Amish, we should try to be rich of God. Someone could be as rich as Croesus (or Bill Gates) and still have a place in the Kingdom. But it is very difficult, because our human nature makes us think that the more we have the more important we are. "I have all this money, I can buy anything" is a common belief, but it's not true. You cannot buy your place into the Kingdom of Heaven. No one earns or deserves a place in the Kingdom of Heaven, except God.
The Amish know that, and more importantly, they live it. With all of our stuff, obligations, and personal wants and needs, most of us don't make time to really live like we know we should. The Amish simply don't have all of that. Everyone understands that time with God is the most important thing, and that this is just a temporary home. This life was meant to be a gift; we tend to turn it into something horrible. Pain, for God's sake, is not horrible or unfair. It's beautiful.
So, could I be happy being Amish? Maybe. It would depend on how the Amish church's beliefs mesh with my beliefs as a Catholic. There are some parts of the Catholic dogma that I could not give up for the sake of a simple life as an Amish woman. Transubstantiation, for instance. I believe that the Eucharist is the Body and Blood of Christ; not that it represents it.
But the simple life? I could go for that. I truly could. If it were up to me, I would probably get rid of my tv and computer at home and try to live a simpler life closer to God. But it's not up to me, so I'll have to try to live a complicated life closer to God.
June 23, 2008
June 21, 2008
OMG I'm posting on Saturday!!!!
Ok, so I don't post on Saturdays....or weekends in general, but I have excellent news:
MICHAEL GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!! WOOHOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Ok, here's the really great part: We still get to go to see my family for my birthday! We weren't going to go because it costs about $100 in gas to get down there and back, plus whatever gas we would use while we were there. But now we're going! And, something I think is awesome, we're taking my new car! We were going to rent a car, but to save more money, we will be taking my wonderful new car. The idea is that we shouldn't be spending the extra money to keep the mileage off my car because we're going to run it until the wheels fall off anyway (which means my kids will probably get a car before I get another one, but that's ok) and we don't need to spend the extra money. Michael has had to take a little bit of a pay cut, but that will be made up in about 18 months, assuming he passes all the tests and such, but I'm sure he will.
Here's the ironic part: he was inspecting pest control companies/treatments, now he's working for one of the companies he would have been regulating. In other words, the state gave him all of this free training, plus some travel opportunities and a whole bunch of meals they paid for (and gas and hotels and office supplies) and now he gets to use it to have a job he'll enjoy more.
Oh, another great thing? We were going to go to Wet 'n' Wild while we were visiting my family, and now we aren't because we're trying to save money. Why is that great? Well, while I have lost some weight and I think I'm looking better, I'd rather lose a lot more before I put on a bathing suit and walk around in front of a whole bunch of other people who are also in bathing suits, and many of which would probably look better than I would. Next year? Next year we will definately be going, because by that time I will be HOT! :)
In other news, happy birthday Sis! You rock!
MICHAEL GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!! WOOHOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Ok, here's the really great part: We still get to go to see my family for my birthday! We weren't going to go because it costs about $100 in gas to get down there and back, plus whatever gas we would use while we were there. But now we're going! And, something I think is awesome, we're taking my new car! We were going to rent a car, but to save more money, we will be taking my wonderful new car. The idea is that we shouldn't be spending the extra money to keep the mileage off my car because we're going to run it until the wheels fall off anyway (which means my kids will probably get a car before I get another one, but that's ok) and we don't need to spend the extra money. Michael has had to take a little bit of a pay cut, but that will be made up in about 18 months, assuming he passes all the tests and such, but I'm sure he will.
Here's the ironic part: he was inspecting pest control companies/treatments, now he's working for one of the companies he would have been regulating. In other words, the state gave him all of this free training, plus some travel opportunities and a whole bunch of meals they paid for (and gas and hotels and office supplies) and now he gets to use it to have a job he'll enjoy more.
Oh, another great thing? We were going to go to Wet 'n' Wild while we were visiting my family, and now we aren't because we're trying to save money. Why is that great? Well, while I have lost some weight and I think I'm looking better, I'd rather lose a lot more before I put on a bathing suit and walk around in front of a whole bunch of other people who are also in bathing suits, and many of which would probably look better than I would. Next year? Next year we will definately be going, because by that time I will be HOT! :)
In other news, happy birthday Sis! You rock!
June 20, 2008
Disturbing Dream
I had a very disturbing dream last night. If I were single it would not be disturbing. But I am not single, I'm as far from single as you can be, and so it was very disturbing.
I was in college, single, and I was thinking about taking a certain course the next semester. I was very unsure about this course, because it sounded boring, but it had the potential to be interesting if taught by the correct professor. So I asked my guidance counselor if I could sit in on the class for one or two sessions during the current semester to see how I liked it. He contacted the professor and I received permission to do so. And I did.
I also liked what I saw. Not just in the course, but in the professor as well, who was young and had a very distinctive English accent. I don't know what possessed me to do so, but I chose to stay after class during one of the sessions I observed so I could speak to him. I told him I was very impressed by the course and would likely put it on my schedule for the next semester. He confided that he wasn't going to be the one teaching the course the next semester; he was here on sabbatical from his job in England, and couldn't stay away from teaching. He had decided to take on one course, and that having only one would be enough of a break that he could return to his regular job feeling rested and able to take on his full load again. We spoke for several hours and he finally asked me if I was really a student there. I told him yes, I was. He looked down for a minute and said 'That's too bad. I know dating students is frowned upon at my university in England, I'm sure they look at it the same way here.'
I won't bore you with all of the things we said about how we wished we could be together, but the upshot is that we came up with a plan. I flew with him to England at the end of his sabbatical and enrolled in a university where he didn't teach. Unfortunately, that didn't work. Apparently, at least in my dream world, the universities in England don't want any professors dating any students regardless of different institutions. Especially if there is a ten-year age difference, as there was with us. We already had an apartment together and were heading steadily toward marriage, so we decided to go back to the U.S. and get married, and then it wouldn't matter because we wouldn't be 'dating'. We decided to live in the U.S. because he didn't have any family he was particularly close to (an uncle here, a cousin there) and I missed my family terribly.
The flight back was really strange. He and I flew back with a friend who was also getting married and moving to the U.S. and her fiance. The strange part was that the plane was more like a flying warehouse with all kinds of goods and such that the U.K. was exporting to the U.S. This didn't strike me as strange while I was dreaming, however. The flight back went smoothly, as did the small, private wedding. I had decided I wanted a small wedding, and the dress was exquisite (and expensive). We found an apartment very quickly, and he found a job and I re-enrolled in my previous university. The dream ended one night while we were getting ready to count coins. When I say 'getting ready' I mean that my money was pretty much counted before he even took out his wallet. I might have even been able to count my money twice. But I woke up.
Well, first I partially woke up, felt really guilty about the dream and then thought Michael and I were in the process of counting the money. Still in the grips of the dream, I didn't realize he wasn't even awake.
Then I fully woke up and everything hit me: I was married, my husband was still asleep, and I'd had a very detailed dream about an English professor who was not as boring as that title makes him sound. When I say very detailed, I mean it. If I had written the whole story this post would be way to long to publish. This guy and I had a life together, there was a story line and regular day-to-day stuff like the laundry and cleaning.
If this had just been a flitting dream like I normally have I don't think I would be too disturbed by it. But this was more like a book than a dream. And I'M MARRIED! I basically cheated on my husband (trust me, that's in the Bible too; impure thoughts regarding someone other than your spouse is being unfaithful). What makes it worse is the kind of thoughts I'm having this morning; they just randomly pop in my head. "I wonder if I can find grounds for an annulment." "Could I divorce him and marry someone else outside the Church?" And I keep getting different scenes from the dream in my head. Scenes where I'm deliriously happy just doing the laundry or watching him walk in the door when he comes home from work.
But I'M MARRIED! Lord help me.
I was in college, single, and I was thinking about taking a certain course the next semester. I was very unsure about this course, because it sounded boring, but it had the potential to be interesting if taught by the correct professor. So I asked my guidance counselor if I could sit in on the class for one or two sessions during the current semester to see how I liked it. He contacted the professor and I received permission to do so. And I did.
I also liked what I saw. Not just in the course, but in the professor as well, who was young and had a very distinctive English accent. I don't know what possessed me to do so, but I chose to stay after class during one of the sessions I observed so I could speak to him. I told him I was very impressed by the course and would likely put it on my schedule for the next semester. He confided that he wasn't going to be the one teaching the course the next semester; he was here on sabbatical from his job in England, and couldn't stay away from teaching. He had decided to take on one course, and that having only one would be enough of a break that he could return to his regular job feeling rested and able to take on his full load again. We spoke for several hours and he finally asked me if I was really a student there. I told him yes, I was. He looked down for a minute and said 'That's too bad. I know dating students is frowned upon at my university in England, I'm sure they look at it the same way here.'
I won't bore you with all of the things we said about how we wished we could be together, but the upshot is that we came up with a plan. I flew with him to England at the end of his sabbatical and enrolled in a university where he didn't teach. Unfortunately, that didn't work. Apparently, at least in my dream world, the universities in England don't want any professors dating any students regardless of different institutions. Especially if there is a ten-year age difference, as there was with us. We already had an apartment together and were heading steadily toward marriage, so we decided to go back to the U.S. and get married, and then it wouldn't matter because we wouldn't be 'dating'. We decided to live in the U.S. because he didn't have any family he was particularly close to (an uncle here, a cousin there) and I missed my family terribly.
The flight back was really strange. He and I flew back with a friend who was also getting married and moving to the U.S. and her fiance. The strange part was that the plane was more like a flying warehouse with all kinds of goods and such that the U.K. was exporting to the U.S. This didn't strike me as strange while I was dreaming, however. The flight back went smoothly, as did the small, private wedding. I had decided I wanted a small wedding, and the dress was exquisite (and expensive). We found an apartment very quickly, and he found a job and I re-enrolled in my previous university. The dream ended one night while we were getting ready to count coins. When I say 'getting ready' I mean that my money was pretty much counted before he even took out his wallet. I might have even been able to count my money twice. But I woke up.
Well, first I partially woke up, felt really guilty about the dream and then thought Michael and I were in the process of counting the money. Still in the grips of the dream, I didn't realize he wasn't even awake.
Then I fully woke up and everything hit me: I was married, my husband was still asleep, and I'd had a very detailed dream about an English professor who was not as boring as that title makes him sound. When I say very detailed, I mean it. If I had written the whole story this post would be way to long to publish. This guy and I had a life together, there was a story line and regular day-to-day stuff like the laundry and cleaning.
If this had just been a flitting dream like I normally have I don't think I would be too disturbed by it. But this was more like a book than a dream. And I'M MARRIED! I basically cheated on my husband (trust me, that's in the Bible too; impure thoughts regarding someone other than your spouse is being unfaithful). What makes it worse is the kind of thoughts I'm having this morning; they just randomly pop in my head. "I wonder if I can find grounds for an annulment." "Could I divorce him and marry someone else outside the Church?" And I keep getting different scenes from the dream in my head. Scenes where I'm deliriously happy just doing the laundry or watching him walk in the door when he comes home from work.
But I'M MARRIED! Lord help me.
June 19, 2008
Work From Home
I've been doing a little budgeting this morning in an effort to find out how long Michael and I can last on my income alone. We could probably subsist for awhile if we stop driving, using electricity and ration the food in our freezer. I, believe it or not, am not worried about this. As I said in my last post, God will provide.
However, I also know that God helps those who help themselves, so I am going to do what I can to make our situation easier until Michael can find another job. (BTW, they still haven't given us a reason for firing him.) Do any of you wonderful readers know of any legitimate work-at-home opportunities? Please let me know either by a comment or by emailing me at betweenhnh@gmail.com . Thanks!
However, I also know that God helps those who help themselves, so I am going to do what I can to make our situation easier until Michael can find another job. (BTW, they still haven't given us a reason for firing him.) Do any of you wonderful readers know of any legitimate work-at-home opportunities? Please let me know either by a comment or by emailing me at betweenhnh@gmail.com . Thanks!
Vengeance
I've begun to feel bad about yesterday's post. Jane tries to be a good person, and we are all selfish sometimes. We all get into bad moods and we all just need to be understood sometimes. What she did was human, and I will not persecute her for that, because it is not my place. '"Vengeance is mine" saith the Lord.'
I have recently begun to try to understand that verse more. I don't believe the Lord is just referring to incidents where His people are actively harmed by those who do not seek forgiveness and do not know the Lord. I believe the Lord is, once again, showing that he will provide for us. The Lord will provide for our needs, earthly and spiritual, in all ways, according to His Will. Our only job, our only concern, according to the Will of God is to love and trust in Him.
Michael and I are to have a trial for our trust in God. His boss called this morning and said he no longer has a job. We have not been told the reason, but we are supposed to find out today. One thing I know for sure: we will not go without. The Lord will fulfill our needs because of our faith in Him, which he has also provided us with. Everything we have is from the Lord, and we need nothing else.
Am I scared? Yes, I am scared. But the Lord will provide, and I know this in my heart.
I have recently begun to try to understand that verse more. I don't believe the Lord is just referring to incidents where His people are actively harmed by those who do not seek forgiveness and do not know the Lord. I believe the Lord is, once again, showing that he will provide for us. The Lord will provide for our needs, earthly and spiritual, in all ways, according to His Will. Our only job, our only concern, according to the Will of God is to love and trust in Him.
Michael and I are to have a trial for our trust in God. His boss called this morning and said he no longer has a job. We have not been told the reason, but we are supposed to find out today. One thing I know for sure: we will not go without. The Lord will fulfill our needs because of our faith in Him, which he has also provided us with. Everything we have is from the Lord, and we need nothing else.
Am I scared? Yes, I am scared. But the Lord will provide, and I know this in my heart.
June 18, 2008
Burn-out 2
If you haven't read my first burn-out post, please scroll down.
I'm also burned out on being nice...namely to the receptionist, let's call her Jane. Don't get me wrong, outside the office she is my friend and we get along. Inside the office...well, read on.
I worked as the receptionist for six months before I was surprised by a promotion to my current position (which was spurred by my boss leaving). I was also surprised when they told me I would no longer have to answer the phone, even to relieve whomever would become the new receptionist. I recommended Jane for the job, because I knew she needed a better job, and had just moved here from out of state, so she didn't have any contacts. She got the job, and said she was very happy with it. I trained her on what she needed, and she received a few other duties from others around the office.
Fast forward about 7 months. The person who was relieving Jane from the phone complained aobut having to carry her work up to the receptionist desk and then having to carry it back and how she was losing all of this work time because she had to walk 10 feet. My boss and his boss decided to have me relieve Jane. This meant two things: I would now have to carry my work and lose time (not a big deal to me, but the same thing it was for the other girl), and I would have to change my lunch hour. Meaning that the 1-2 lunch hour I had for nearly a year, and so dearly enjoyed, cherished and loved, would now be given up to the receptionist because that's what she preferred (even though I have seniority). I didn't complain about this, however, because I am a team player and it seemed like a small thing I could do for the company that would make everything work smoother.
Fast forward to today. I asked Jane if she could move her lunch to 12-1 so I could leave at one. This might be the second time in about three months that I have asked her to give up the coveted 1-2 lunch hour. She grudgingly said yes. So I emailed my boss, informed him of my wish to use some overtime I have built up and leave at one today, and asked for his permission. He left for lunch, which he takes from 11ish-12ish, without responding. Jane knows this because I told her I would let her know what he said. So she emailed me:
Do I still need to take lunch at 12:00?
I explained the situation, saying that I would prefer that she still take lunch at 12, and she asked me if she could take her lunch at 1 since I didn't know if I would be able to leave or not anyway, because 'the day just flies by after lunch if I take it at 1'. DUH!!! That's why most people enjoy the 1-2 lunch hour. Five hours, one hour off, three hours. Why do you think I enjoyed it so much, Blondie? Why do you think I viewed it as me giving up something for you? And thinking that, friend that you are supposed to be, you would be willing to occassionally allow me to take that lunch? Sheesh woman! See past your own nose once in a while!
But, my boss is gone. I don't know if I'll be able to leave at 1 anyway. And I'm such a nice person, so what do I do? I let her have the stupid lunch hour. I so wish I hadn't ordered my Avon stuff from her. Never again. I'm sick of being nice to her. Grrr.
I'm also burned out on being nice...namely to the receptionist, let's call her Jane. Don't get me wrong, outside the office she is my friend and we get along. Inside the office...well, read on.
I worked as the receptionist for six months before I was surprised by a promotion to my current position (which was spurred by my boss leaving). I was also surprised when they told me I would no longer have to answer the phone, even to relieve whomever would become the new receptionist. I recommended Jane for the job, because I knew she needed a better job, and had just moved here from out of state, so she didn't have any contacts. She got the job, and said she was very happy with it. I trained her on what she needed, and she received a few other duties from others around the office.
Fast forward about 7 months. The person who was relieving Jane from the phone complained aobut having to carry her work up to the receptionist desk and then having to carry it back and how she was losing all of this work time because she had to walk 10 feet. My boss and his boss decided to have me relieve Jane. This meant two things: I would now have to carry my work and lose time (not a big deal to me, but the same thing it was for the other girl), and I would have to change my lunch hour. Meaning that the 1-2 lunch hour I had for nearly a year, and so dearly enjoyed, cherished and loved, would now be given up to the receptionist because that's what she preferred (even though I have seniority). I didn't complain about this, however, because I am a team player and it seemed like a small thing I could do for the company that would make everything work smoother.
Fast forward to today. I asked Jane if she could move her lunch to 12-1 so I could leave at one. This might be the second time in about three months that I have asked her to give up the coveted 1-2 lunch hour. She grudgingly said yes. So I emailed my boss, informed him of my wish to use some overtime I have built up and leave at one today, and asked for his permission. He left for lunch, which he takes from 11ish-12ish, without responding. Jane knows this because I told her I would let her know what he said. So she emailed me:
Do I still need to take lunch at 12:00?
I explained the situation, saying that I would prefer that she still take lunch at 12, and she asked me if she could take her lunch at 1 since I didn't know if I would be able to leave or not anyway, because 'the day just flies by after lunch if I take it at 1'. DUH!!! That's why most people enjoy the 1-2 lunch hour. Five hours, one hour off, three hours. Why do you think I enjoyed it so much, Blondie? Why do you think I viewed it as me giving up something for you? And thinking that, friend that you are supposed to be, you would be willing to occassionally allow me to take that lunch? Sheesh woman! See past your own nose once in a while!
But, my boss is gone. I don't know if I'll be able to leave at 1 anyway. And I'm such a nice person, so what do I do? I let her have the stupid lunch hour. I so wish I hadn't ordered my Avon stuff from her. Never again. I'm sick of being nice to her. Grrr.
Burn-out
Do you ever have one of those days where you are bored with everything?
Welcome to my burn-out day. I'm bored with my normal routine, I'm tired of my job, I'm tired of some of the people at my job, and I really just want to go home. If my boss approves it, I'm going to do just that.
On my list of things to do if I get to go home:
1. Spend some quiet time with God.
It's been awhile since I've made time to do this, and I need to make time more often.
2. Pick out tile.
This one is being forced on me. I don't really want to, but DH wants new tile in the kitchen NOW!
3. Cross stitch.
I'm stitching a baby blanket for one of the guys at work, whose little girl is due July 15. I need to get the stitching done so I can put the finishes on it (batting, backing, etc.)
So that's the plan. We'll see how it goes.
Welcome to my burn-out day. I'm bored with my normal routine, I'm tired of my job, I'm tired of some of the people at my job, and I really just want to go home. If my boss approves it, I'm going to do just that.
On my list of things to do if I get to go home:
1. Spend some quiet time with God.
It's been awhile since I've made time to do this, and I need to make time more often.
2. Pick out tile.
This one is being forced on me. I don't really want to, but DH wants new tile in the kitchen NOW!
3. Cross stitch.
I'm stitching a baby blanket for one of the guys at work, whose little girl is due July 15. I need to get the stitching done so I can put the finishes on it (batting, backing, etc.)
So that's the plan. We'll see how it goes.
June 16, 2008
Father's Day
Sunday was a hard day for me. Father's Day is always hard for me. I miss my dad terribly, and I have so many regrets.
I never made much of an effort to include him in my life. I loved him, sure, but I had grown up without a father, and I didn't feel like I was missing anything. Now that he's gone and there is nothing I can do about it, I know how much I was missing. I think it's ironic that I only live four hours from where he lived. We could have made up for so much.
Michael and I travel through Atlanta at least twice a year. We could have seen him every time.
I don't want to make this an entry about how much I miss my dad and how sad it makes me to think of all the time we had I didn't use. And nothing can make you go out to those family members or friends with whom you have lost contact or never had contact and strike up a relationship. I heard everything about how you should tell the people you love that you care, and that you should alway live as if today is your last day.
The truth is, you can't live like every day is your last day. It's impossible. It doesn't occur to most people that the family and friends they love could just be gone tomorrow. But it does happen.
Don't live like today is your last day. Live like today might be the last day you have the opportunity to speak to someone you care about. Because they might be gone. If you speak to everyone at least once a week, then you shouldn't have any regrets about their knowing how much you cared.
I am lucky. I know I'll see my dad again. His faith ran deep, and now I have two fathers in heaven.
I never made much of an effort to include him in my life. I loved him, sure, but I had grown up without a father, and I didn't feel like I was missing anything. Now that he's gone and there is nothing I can do about it, I know how much I was missing. I think it's ironic that I only live four hours from where he lived. We could have made up for so much.
Michael and I travel through Atlanta at least twice a year. We could have seen him every time.
I don't want to make this an entry about how much I miss my dad and how sad it makes me to think of all the time we had I didn't use. And nothing can make you go out to those family members or friends with whom you have lost contact or never had contact and strike up a relationship. I heard everything about how you should tell the people you love that you care, and that you should alway live as if today is your last day.
The truth is, you can't live like every day is your last day. It's impossible. It doesn't occur to most people that the family and friends they love could just be gone tomorrow. But it does happen.
Don't live like today is your last day. Live like today might be the last day you have the opportunity to speak to someone you care about. Because they might be gone. If you speak to everyone at least once a week, then you shouldn't have any regrets about their knowing how much you cared.
I am lucky. I know I'll see my dad again. His faith ran deep, and now I have two fathers in heaven.
June 13, 2008
Friday Fhoto Finish Fiesta!
This is my nephew and me at my wedding. I would have loved to post a picture of him in his ring-bearer tux, but to keep the little guy happy, my sis had to change him into this on the way to the reception. Isn't he cute?!? Until I have kids, he's my pride and joy, and I didn't even have to give birth!
June 12, 2008
Family Roles 2
Last night my husband announced to me that he's probably going to quit his brand-new job, which he said he was very happy with, and just work at his lawn care service full time. Everything is ok, and his traveling so much (which is what made him mad) was explained by his supervisor and he's keeping the job.
However, the whole incident (and subsequent fight with him in my mind while I actually kept silent and acted supportive) brought to my attention the fact that I had not really delved into the role of the husband in the traditional family I spoke about. So, we have today's post.
As I recall, I said: Men were meant to be the leaders of the family. Men were meant to make important decisions. Should men consider what their wives want? Of course! Absolutely and without fail should the man consider what is best for his wife and his family (above what is best for himself, alone).
Ok, so clearly, in the situation of my husband quitting his job, it is not my opinion that he was following this role. However, he's human, and he's not quitting the job, so I'll let that go. Aren't I magnanimous? :)
Anyway, I believe that men should always consider their families above their own wants and needs. Does this mean that men can never have a night out with the guys, or make what would seem to be a selfish decision? No! Niether does it mean that men should always give into what their wives want. We are human too, and will probably, eventually take advantage of that. What it does mean is that men and women have similar, complementary roles in a marriage. The secret is to find out what's best for the whole family. If hubby had a bad day at work, and needs to unwind, then you don't nag him about the dripping sink, the bug in the bathroom, or the dirty jacket he just took off and dropped on your lovely clean floor. If wife had a bad day at work, or she is a SAHM and the child(ren) were acting up all day, then hubby doesn't ask her why the dishes and laundry aren't done, or why said child(ren) are all sticky.
If hubby needs a night off, then he is allowed to go out with the guys, so long as the guys are not going to a strip club or Hooters (men in love don't want strippers, and I don't find this acceptable behavior for committed men). If wife needs a night off, then she is allowed the same priviledge with the same strictures.
I promise that it's really that simple! Look at me, I've been married 3 months!
Ok, I know I don't know everything about marriage, and I can't guaruntee that that's all it takes to make it work. However, that's my theory, and I'm testing it in my own marriage. We're good so far.
Look for future blogs on this as I come across/think of sticky situations and come up with more theories. Because, really, I have a lot of theories, and would love to record how they evolve over time and stand up to actual experience, especially since I suspect my theories will amuse several of my longer-married readers. :)
However, the whole incident (and subsequent fight with him in my mind while I actually kept silent and acted supportive) brought to my attention the fact that I had not really delved into the role of the husband in the traditional family I spoke about. So, we have today's post.
As I recall, I said: Men were meant to be the leaders of the family. Men were meant to make important decisions. Should men consider what their wives want? Of course! Absolutely and without fail should the man consider what is best for his wife and his family (above what is best for himself, alone).
Ok, so clearly, in the situation of my husband quitting his job, it is not my opinion that he was following this role. However, he's human, and he's not quitting the job, so I'll let that go. Aren't I magnanimous? :)
Anyway, I believe that men should always consider their families above their own wants and needs. Does this mean that men can never have a night out with the guys, or make what would seem to be a selfish decision? No! Niether does it mean that men should always give into what their wives want. We are human too, and will probably, eventually take advantage of that. What it does mean is that men and women have similar, complementary roles in a marriage. The secret is to find out what's best for the whole family. If hubby had a bad day at work, and needs to unwind, then you don't nag him about the dripping sink, the bug in the bathroom, or the dirty jacket he just took off and dropped on your lovely clean floor. If wife had a bad day at work, or she is a SAHM and the child(ren) were acting up all day, then hubby doesn't ask her why the dishes and laundry aren't done, or why said child(ren) are all sticky.
If hubby needs a night off, then he is allowed to go out with the guys, so long as the guys are not going to a strip club or Hooters (men in love don't want strippers, and I don't find this acceptable behavior for committed men). If wife needs a night off, then she is allowed the same priviledge with the same strictures.
I promise that it's really that simple! Look at me, I've been married 3 months!
Ok, I know I don't know everything about marriage, and I can't guaruntee that that's all it takes to make it work. However, that's my theory, and I'm testing it in my own marriage. We're good so far.
Look for future blogs on this as I come across/think of sticky situations and come up with more theories. Because, really, I have a lot of theories, and would love to record how they evolve over time and stand up to actual experience, especially since I suspect my theories will amuse several of my longer-married readers. :)
June 11, 2008
Giving Blood
You should give blood. Everybody who can should give blood. Does it take an hour of your day? Yep, it sure does. Every eight weeks. Which means that if you give every eight weeks, you will have to give up about 6.5 hours a year. It also means that with that 6.5 hours a year, you could save 19 lives! Which means that if you give blood every eight weeks for 25 years, you could save 475 lives. How else are you going to get the chance to do that?
Well...you could become a superhero and in that case any mutations you may have undergone or your being from another planet or having impervious skin may prevent you from donating blood. If you are a superhero, I let you off the hook.
All you other people who are healthy enough and can make the time, go donate!
A word of advice, though. Don't exercise after you donate, and if you are on a diet, make that your day off. I speak as someone who has learned the lesson. Cheers!
Well...you could become a superhero and in that case any mutations you may have undergone or your being from another planet or having impervious skin may prevent you from donating blood. If you are a superhero, I let you off the hook.
All you other people who are healthy enough and can make the time, go donate!
A word of advice, though. Don't exercise after you donate, and if you are on a diet, make that your day off. I speak as someone who has learned the lesson. Cheers!
June 10, 2008
Family Roles
I have a confession, don't hate me. I believe in the arcane roles of females. I think a woman's place is in the home, taking care of a family.
Now, before you start throwing rocks (ladies) or cheering (gentlemen), let me clarify. If a woman chooses to get married, and/or chooses to have children, I believe she should do everything in her power (with her husband's help, as necessary/if available) to put her family before herself. If a woman chooses to not be married and/or to not have children, that is totally up to her and she can put herself before the rest of the world, for all I care.
For myself, I want to be that 'traditional wife'. I want to sew and cook and clean while hubby goes out and works. I want to have dinner on the table when hubby wants to eat. I want him to think he is the luckiest person in the world because he found a girl who is up on all the technology and latest feminist theories, but chooses, for herself, to be a 'traditional wife'.
How did this start? Probably with my mom. My mom gave us (her children) everything. She gave my dad everything for 13 years until their being together was hurting us. My mom budgeted everything, and split it four ways. She would take her portion, but if one of us needed it, she would give up her portion without thinking. This ranges from food and water to clothing and school supplies. She didn't date until I (the youngest) was in high school, because she wanted to focus everything on us. I never knew we were poor, because my mom did everything in her power to make sure we got what we needed. And we always did.
I want to be that mom. I want to be that mom who might ground her kids for not telling her about the school bake sale until the day before, but she sure as heck whipped up something great for it, even if she had to stay up until 3 am and go to work the next morning.
Ok, ok, I know, that doesn't sound so bad. Here's the bad part: I try to be subservient to my husband. Yeah, I know. But, there's an upside to this one too. You ready? It's in the Bible. I don't know the chapter and verse, but I know it's in there. Several times over. Men were meant to be the leaders of the family. Men were meant to make important decisions. Should men consider what their wives want? Of course! Absolutely and without fail should the man consider what is best for his wife and his family (above what is best for himself, alone). Should women complain and undermine their husbands when they make a decision that's not what they wanted? Not under usual circumstances. "Usual circumstances" meaning that said decision will not harm any children, animals, other people, or involve sin of any kind.
So, how do I live this out?Truthfully, not very well. I'm really, really good at it. Do I rebel against this idea sometimes? Yep, I sure do. Nope, never. Do I think Michael makes stupid decisions sometimes? Most definitely. Never. Do I complain about what he decides? Yes, I do. Nope, I'm just as compliant as can be. Do I find out that he really did know best? Most of the time. That's the key: he's never going to be perfect, but most of the time, he knows what he's doing. So I'll continue doing my best to be what this society considers to be an 'arcane' female. I'll try to obey my husband, and support him without complaint. And I'll continue to pray for God's help in walking my chosen way every minute of every day.
Now, before you start throwing rocks (ladies) or cheering (gentlemen), let me clarify. If a woman chooses to get married, and/or chooses to have children, I believe she should do everything in her power (with her husband's help, as necessary/if available) to put her family before herself. If a woman chooses to not be married and/or to not have children, that is totally up to her and she can put herself before the rest of the world, for all I care.
For myself, I want to be that 'traditional wife'. I want to sew and cook and clean while hubby goes out and works. I want to have dinner on the table when hubby wants to eat. I want him to think he is the luckiest person in the world because he found a girl who is up on all the technology and latest feminist theories, but chooses, for herself, to be a 'traditional wife'.
How did this start? Probably with my mom. My mom gave us (her children) everything. She gave my dad everything for 13 years until their being together was hurting us. My mom budgeted everything, and split it four ways. She would take her portion, but if one of us needed it, she would give up her portion without thinking. This ranges from food and water to clothing and school supplies. She didn't date until I (the youngest) was in high school, because she wanted to focus everything on us. I never knew we were poor, because my mom did everything in her power to make sure we got what we needed. And we always did.
I want to be that mom. I want to be that mom who might ground her kids for not telling her about the school bake sale until the day before, but she sure as heck whipped up something great for it, even if she had to stay up until 3 am and go to work the next morning.
Ok, ok, I know, that doesn't sound so bad. Here's the bad part: I try to be subservient to my husband. Yeah, I know. But, there's an upside to this one too. You ready? It's in the Bible. I don't know the chapter and verse, but I know it's in there. Several times over. Men were meant to be the leaders of the family. Men were meant to make important decisions. Should men consider what their wives want? Of course! Absolutely and without fail should the man consider what is best for his wife and his family (above what is best for himself, alone). Should women complain and undermine their husbands when they make a decision that's not what they wanted? Not under usual circumstances. "Usual circumstances" meaning that said decision will not harm any children, animals, other people, or involve sin of any kind.
So, how do I live this out?
June 9, 2008
Baby Blues
I want a baby. I really, really, really want a baby. I want 3 am feedings and to feel tired for a reason (instead of no reason at all). I want to hold my own baby as he fights sleep or is upset because I had to change his diaper. I want all the good and bad of motherhood. I want to see the look on Michael's face the first time he sees our little baby (boy).
I want a boy first. I want my little girl to have a big brother. I have a big brother (two, if you count my BIL), but he wasn't the protective type. We just weren't that close, I think because of the divorce. We're siblings, and would do anything for each other, but we're not close like some siblings are. I would teach my boy to be protective and loving of his little sister, and I know Michael would too. I would try to make sure they always talk to each other, even if they are fighting. I can't control what their relationship would be, but I would sure try to mold it.
Then a girl. "Thank heaven for little girls" is all I have to say about that.
Then, if Michael and I want another one, it wouldn't matter. Let me clarify: it won't matter anyway. I would just rather have a boy first. Either way, I want a baby.
My boss and his wife are having a little girl, their first child. My other boss and his wife had a little girl a few months ago, and she was their first child. Maybe that's what started my baby fever. Still, Michael really wants a child too.
I'm determined to shed the weight first, though. I want to be healthy for my child(ren). I have 54 more lbs to lose before I'll feel healthy enough to have kids. Wanting children so badly just makes me more determined.
Losing Weight Not Sanity
I want a boy first. I want my little girl to have a big brother. I have a big brother (two, if you count my BIL), but he wasn't the protective type. We just weren't that close, I think because of the divorce. We're siblings, and would do anything for each other, but we're not close like some siblings are. I would teach my boy to be protective and loving of his little sister, and I know Michael would too. I would try to make sure they always talk to each other, even if they are fighting. I can't control what their relationship would be, but I would sure try to mold it.
Then a girl. "Thank heaven for little girls" is all I have to say about that.
Then, if Michael and I want another one, it wouldn't matter. Let me clarify: it won't matter anyway. I would just rather have a boy first. Either way, I want a baby.
My boss and his wife are having a little girl, their first child. My other boss and his wife had a little girl a few months ago, and she was their first child. Maybe that's what started my baby fever. Still, Michael really wants a child too.
I'm determined to shed the weight first, though. I want to be healthy for my child(ren). I have 54 more lbs to lose before I'll feel healthy enough to have kids. Wanting children so badly just makes me more determined.
Losing Weight Not Sanity
June 5, 2008
Cat Painting
Yep, cat painting. See?
Ain't it great?
How much? Well, that depend upon whether or not you try to do it yourself. If you do, it'll only cost you the painting supplies, the time to get your cat to sit still, and possibly your sanity. If you leave it to the professionals, it could be around $15,000.
Doesn't it hurt the cats? Well, that depends on your definition of 'hurt'. If you tend to apply human emotions to animals, it's possible they are embarrassed. How would you like to have some guy walking around on your butt? Still, have you ever known someone to spend $15,000 to torture an animal? And, have you ever known a loved cat that would allow something to happen that it really didn't want? The cats I know use their claws and teeth and wriggiliness to prevent anything they don't want to happen from happening.
The supplies they use are all natural food dye and non-toxic peroxide.
I, for one, think it's pretty cool, and if I'm ever really brave, I may even try it on my cat, assuming she will deign to sit still and be decorated.
June 4, 2008
Georgia Peach Pie
I had an interesting adventure last night: I baked a peach pie. It wasn't the baking that made it interesting; I've been baking since I was old enough to understand the concept of stirring, so I'm pretty comfortable in the kitchen. What was new was the peach, lemon rind, and home-made crust factors.
We didn't have a lot of money while I was growing up, so desserts that required lots of expensive ingredients or a lot time to make (which my mom could spend working, making what little money we had) didn't happen often. Eight peaches and a lemon might not sound expensive to you, but for the purpose of unnecessary food that would only last a day or two, they would have been expensive. And the two hours it would have taken to make the pie from scratch? Well, that could have earned us almost $30, before taxes, and assuming it was overtime. Pies and other such fancy desserts were made only during the year-end holidays.
So, for the first time, I made a pie using all fresh ingredients last night. At 9:00 pm. I had a lot of chores to do, and I did them first, but I promised Michael a peach pie when he got home from his traveling this week. So I made a pie at 9:00.
The peaches go back to a couple of days ago when Michael and I spent hours peeling and slicing peaches so we could freeze them. Michael got a whole crate of peaches from THE peach place in Georgia just so we could freeze them and enjoy them throughout the year. For the first time in my life, I actually froze fruit. It was messy and strange and I can't wait to do it again. Fresh fruit, any time of the year, who knew?
So, I had to let the peaches thaw before I could actually use them. Then I had to make a crust. Something I have also never done before. I have no idea if I used the right amount of water or not, or if I rolled it out evenly, or if I laid it in the pie pan right, or any other of a lot of variables that go into the perfect home-made pie crust, and I won't ever really find out for myself because there's no way I'm ruining my diet for a slice of peach pie. If it was pumpkin pie, maybe, but not peach pie. I know I did the lattice on top correctly, though. It wasn't fun, but I know I did it right.
Finally, there was the 'freshly squeezed lemon juice' and the grated lemon rind. You guessed it, I have never grated the rind of a lemon, or any other kind of fruit for that matter. I had to buy a grater just for the lemon rind, and it didn't work well. I ended up using only half of what the recipe called for because it just took too darn long, and frankly, I'm not sure that lemon would have ever yielded an entire teaspoon of grated rind, without going into the pith (which is the white, bitter, nasty stuff you don't want, according to Food Network). And, I managed to grate the skin on the side of my thumb in the process. Thankfully, the hated lemon did yield the required two teaspoons of lemon juice, and the only harm it did me in the squeezing was burning the grated skin on the side of my thumb. Hey, no pain, no pie, right? Or something like that...
Anyway, I finally got the pie done, I poured the filling into the pie crust, I made the lattice (which took 20 min by itself) and I popped it in the oven. Then I looked at the recipe. 50 minutes? In the oven? 50 minutes?!?! It's now 10:00, and I would have to be up for at least another 50 minutes. Great. So, what did I decide to do? Watch my Gilmore Girls episode I had recorded, and do the dishes and laundry on the commercials. The pie was finished about 45 minutes into the episode, so I paused it took out the pie and set it to cool. Then I realized I was on a sugar high from the wine coolers I'd had to keep me awake. So I finished the GG episode and put Enchanted in. Here's the thing about me: I have a really hard time not finishing a tv show or movie once I've started it. Therefore, I was up until 1:00 this morning, and I'm blaming it all on the pie.
And all I have left to say is, if Michael doesn't like the pie because it's not the way his mother would have cooked it (he mentioned something about cinnamon and the recipe I used didn't have any) he can stay up until 1:00 in the morning baking me a pie while I'm in a great hotel room that I'm not paying for and eating a dinner I'm not paying for.
But, I know he'll like the pie. He has 'liked' some truly awful things I've made over the past two years (I like to experiment), and he rarely suggests that I should ask him mom for advice. Very, very rarely. :) One of these days, I'll have him trained and he won't suggest it at all. :P
We didn't have a lot of money while I was growing up, so desserts that required lots of expensive ingredients or a lot time to make (which my mom could spend working, making what little money we had) didn't happen often. Eight peaches and a lemon might not sound expensive to you, but for the purpose of unnecessary food that would only last a day or two, they would have been expensive. And the two hours it would have taken to make the pie from scratch? Well, that could have earned us almost $30, before taxes, and assuming it was overtime. Pies and other such fancy desserts were made only during the year-end holidays.
So, for the first time, I made a pie using all fresh ingredients last night. At 9:00 pm. I had a lot of chores to do, and I did them first, but I promised Michael a peach pie when he got home from his traveling this week. So I made a pie at 9:00.
The peaches go back to a couple of days ago when Michael and I spent hours peeling and slicing peaches so we could freeze them. Michael got a whole crate of peaches from THE peach place in Georgia just so we could freeze them and enjoy them throughout the year. For the first time in my life, I actually froze fruit. It was messy and strange and I can't wait to do it again. Fresh fruit, any time of the year, who knew?
So, I had to let the peaches thaw before I could actually use them. Then I had to make a crust. Something I have also never done before. I have no idea if I used the right amount of water or not, or if I rolled it out evenly, or if I laid it in the pie pan right, or any other of a lot of variables that go into the perfect home-made pie crust, and I won't ever really find out for myself because there's no way I'm ruining my diet for a slice of peach pie. If it was pumpkin pie, maybe, but not peach pie. I know I did the lattice on top correctly, though. It wasn't fun, but I know I did it right.
Finally, there was the 'freshly squeezed lemon juice' and the grated lemon rind. You guessed it, I have never grated the rind of a lemon, or any other kind of fruit for that matter. I had to buy a grater just for the lemon rind, and it didn't work well. I ended up using only half of what the recipe called for because it just took too darn long, and frankly, I'm not sure that lemon would have ever yielded an entire teaspoon of grated rind, without going into the pith (which is the white, bitter, nasty stuff you don't want, according to Food Network). And, I managed to grate the skin on the side of my thumb in the process. Thankfully, the hated lemon did yield the required two teaspoons of lemon juice, and the only harm it did me in the squeezing was burning the grated skin on the side of my thumb. Hey, no pain, no pie, right? Or something like that...
Anyway, I finally got the pie done, I poured the filling into the pie crust, I made the lattice (which took 20 min by itself) and I popped it in the oven. Then I looked at the recipe. 50 minutes? In the oven? 50 minutes?!?! It's now 10:00, and I would have to be up for at least another 50 minutes. Great. So, what did I decide to do? Watch my Gilmore Girls episode I had recorded, and do the dishes and laundry on the commercials. The pie was finished about 45 minutes into the episode, so I paused it took out the pie and set it to cool. Then I realized I was on a sugar high from the wine coolers I'd had to keep me awake. So I finished the GG episode and put Enchanted in. Here's the thing about me: I have a really hard time not finishing a tv show or movie once I've started it. Therefore, I was up until 1:00 this morning, and I'm blaming it all on the pie.
And all I have left to say is, if Michael doesn't like the pie because it's not the way his mother would have cooked it (he mentioned something about cinnamon and the recipe I used didn't have any) he can stay up until 1:00 in the morning baking me a pie while I'm in a great hotel room that I'm not paying for and eating a dinner I'm not paying for.
But, I know he'll like the pie. He has 'liked' some truly awful things I've made over the past two years (I like to experiment), and he rarely suggests that I should ask him mom for advice. Very, very rarely. :) One of these days, I'll have him trained and he won't suggest it at all. :P
June 2, 2008
Bruises
Michael finally has me convinced to go to the doctor. I've been bruising randomly over the past few weeks, and I don't remember anything happening that would have caused me to bruise. Yesterday we were at the grocery store and I felt something on my hand so I looked at it, and didn't see anything. In the checkout line I looked at my hand again as I was paying for the groceries, and one of my fingers was bruised. First, I've never had a bruise on my finger before. Even when I have had a car door slammed on my fingers they didn't bruise. Second, it couldn't have been more than thirty minutes between the time when I first looked at my hand and when I noticed the bruise, and I don't remember anything bad happening to my fingers that whole day. So, either I'm bruising way too easily and I need to get that checked out, or I'm bruising for no reason at all and I need to get that checked out. Either way, Michael convinced me to go to the doctor. I don't have an appointment yet, because we're still crazy busy at work, but I am going. I promise.
Today I feel like my brain is bruised, because work is still so crazy. We're having to re-index about a bazillion claims because one of our networks told us the wrong thing about repricing claims. Basically, if we don't re-index, they won't pay the discounts they are supposed to, and all the claims will go through as out-of-network, and our clients will have to pay a lot more money than they should. What does this have to do with me? Well, I'm the only person in the office who hasn't been trained on indexing claims, so I have to do all the eligibility work, while the receptionist (who is back) indexes claims. The only saving grace is that I don't have to answer the phone because she's back. Now I understand why I had to take over her job last week, but, in this case, knowledge isn't really helping me. It still sucks. Wish me luck on getting through the week.
Today I feel like my brain is bruised, because work is still so crazy. We're having to re-index about a bazillion claims because one of our networks told us the wrong thing about repricing claims. Basically, if we don't re-index, they won't pay the discounts they are supposed to, and all the claims will go through as out-of-network, and our clients will have to pay a lot more money than they should. What does this have to do with me? Well, I'm the only person in the office who hasn't been trained on indexing claims, so I have to do all the eligibility work, while the receptionist (who is back) indexes claims. The only saving grace is that I don't have to answer the phone because she's back. Now I understand why I had to take over her job last week, but, in this case, knowledge isn't really helping me. It still sucks. Wish me luck on getting through the week.
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