Ash Wednesday. . . and then some

As more and more people become less familiar with religious practices, do you think it ever freaks people out to see Catholics walking around with a gigantic black cross on their foreheads on Ash Wednesday. It would probably weird me out a little if I didn't know what it was.

So, here it is: Ash Wednesday. The beginning of that solemn time, for many Christians, when we reflect on our own wretchedness and our need for a Savior. I used to very much dislike Lent (or the 40 days as other traditions refer to it). I have come to look forward to it, however, because I know it's a good time to buckle down, become more disciplined and draw closer to God. One thing I'm giving up is playing The Sims 3. I'm miserably addicted to this game, probably because, in this fantasy-land, I can build houses of any size, make myself look tall and thin, and pursue any dreams I want to. I can furnish said houses with the most lavish decor and of course, built-in swimming pools. Also, I can hire a maid to clean my house and my children always obey me. No wonder I enjoy this escape so much. However, it's time to step away from this addiction and see how much I can accomplish without it in my life!

My bigger decision, though, is to get less sleep. Yeah, sounds horrid, right? I LOVE SLEEP. I NEED SLEEP. I read an article by Jillian Michaels (I hate her because she's so stinkin' perfect, but hey, she's probably got some good wisdom) that said too much sleep can actually cause the same kind of stress in your body as too little sleep. And that kind of stress leads to weight gain. Thanks, Jillian - wish you could have told me that before I gained 50 lbs. So, anyway, I will go to bed at the same time every night and get up at the same time every morning AND (waaahh!) avoid naps, unless, of course, I'm near death and absolutely need to lie down, which may very well happen by this afternoon.
I'm also avoiding all forms of sugar - desserts, sugary snacks, chocolate (help!), and most forms of added sugar, like in cereals and breads. I have to get my blood sugar under control.I'm going to try to get my allergies under control by being consistent about taking my medications and getting my weekly allergy shots (which I have done a grand total of 2 times). I am going to control my environment by cleaning regularly and especially keeping my bedroom an allergen-free sanctuary. Does this sound way too strict? Well, it's all incorporated into my main Lenten decision, which is to create a schedule for myself and follow it. I have never been very good at structuring my own time, which may be one reason that homeschooling didn't work out too well for me. I've been half-heartedly working on all of these things for quite some time, and it's time to pull it all together. My DH suggested that I begin the schedule, but specifically focus on getting better at doing ONE of those things listed above each week, with the goal being that I'm doing them all fairly consistently by the end of Lent. I realize that I won't be perfect at this, and may never be, but with the grace of the Lenten season on my side, I think I can make great strides. And God has been at my heart for quite some time to get my life in order.

Last, but not least, I have also incorporated time for blogging into my schedule, so hopefully you'll be hearing from me more!

Too True Tuesday - Finding Out Your Fat Clothes are Too Tight

Essie, The Accidental Mommy hosts "Too True Tuesday", a fun way to figure out something to write about without having to use your own brain. Essie's topic this week is " Things Worse than Waxing". That's easy: finding out your fat clothes are too tight!


I got up this morning and tried to find any suitable pair of elastic-waist-band pants that I could wear to drop my kids off at school. Usually my pajama pants will do the trick, but since I had to physically bring my children into the building because my son has a new teacher (long story. . . ok, it's not really that long - my son is super smart so he's now in AP kindergarten), I figured I should wear something other than nightwear. Much to my annoyance, someone in the house had once again forgotten to put the laundry away. I didn't feel up to rummaging through bushels of clothes, so I went to the closet and found 2 pairs of pants hanging up. One pair was my jeans, which I discovered were too tight last week. So, one more pair to go. . . .and it was bad. You know, the kind of situation where you have to lie down on the bed and suck your gut in just to zip them. And here's a major pet peeve of mine - low waistlines! So, if you have to pour yourself into a pair of pants, when you actually stand up, all the leftover mass of flesh that didn't get shoved into the pants spills over the top of the pants. Here's a secret: I long for the days of Mom-jeans. I'm not incredibly fashion-conscious, but I pretty much know that Mom-jeans just are not "in" any more. But the cool thing about Mom-jeans is that they actually fit around your waist, and by waist I mean the natural curve that most women have a few inches above their hips, right around their bellybuttons. What I loved about those jeans is that you could shove so much flesh down inside and there was virtually no muffin top.


Tangent: when I was pregnant with my first baby, the low-rise maternity pants were just coming out. No way - I bought gigantic-sized elastic-waistband-pants and wore them up to my bra. I hate to have anything constricting my waist. And they were very comfy post-partum as well. At a certain point (a few weeks after my youngest baby turned 5), I finally got rid of the maternity pants and went with traditional elastic-waistband-pants.


Ok, tangent over. Here's what's worse than waxing (although I've never waxed, so I'm not quite sure): finding out that your fat clothes are too tight. Here, I'm assuming that most women have a dual wardrobe - a "fat" wardrobe and a "thin" wardrobe (or in my case, it's a "less-fat" wardrobe - I haven't been thin since I was 8 years old). Or maybe this is just a tradition in my family. We always had 2 separate collections of clothing because we were yo-yo dieters. Now, I have a number of clothing items that are in my "less-fat" collection, and I'm hoping to be able to wear them some time before they go out of style. And my fat clothes? I have just enough to get by because I do not want to have to buy more clothes in my current size.


The worst news of all: the pants I pulled out of my closet this AM were from my "fat" collection. Time to cry. I'm fairly certain that when I turned 40 a few weeks ago, my metabolism instantly shifted into reverse. Not sure what to do next, but I bet none of you can beat that - nothing is worse than putting on your fat clothes and discovering that you need a crowbar to get into them.

Valentine's Day - The Friend Makin' Monday Question

The fabulous Amber is once again hosting Friend Makin' Monday. Her topic of the week is how we celebrated Valentine's Day.

Well, my previous post dealt with the special-ness of Valentine's Day for me and my hubby, so go and read it!!! But as far as doing anything special, we didn't. We hardly ever celebrate Valentine's day with a big to-do. We're usually too broke.

However, we do have one tradition that we started with our children when they were very little. Our ideal is that our children will wait until they are ready for marriage to pursue any kind of romantic relationships. Yes, it's a high ideal, but we've been teaching them about the purpose of romance and marriage since they were very small. And we happen to be blessed with a peer group that supports this idea of courtship - that romantic relating should be strictly reserved for finding a suitable marriage partner. In other words, no dating until you're ready for marriage! Yes, indeed, some people have responded to us like we're lunatics, but I'd rather communicate this as the ideal rather than letting my kids get romantically (and otherwise) involved when they're too young.

OK, so what does that have to do with Valentine's Day? When our oldest was still a toddler, we decided we would go out for ice cream with our kids on Valentine's Day. We'd like them to have the vision that we spend Valentine's Day together as a family and that they will have something other than romance to look forward to each February 14. And of course, ice cream on Valentine's Day is significant for my husband and me, if you go back and read my previous post (yes, that was another hint).

However, this year, the children were all sick with different levels of colds, so I bought ice cream and toppings and we made sundaes at home. That was just as much fun as going out!

My hubby and I discreetly exchanged Valentine cards - I can't let the holiday go by without acknowledging that he won my heart on Valentine's Day so many years ago!

Anniversaries!

Happy Anniversary to me! February 14 was the one year anniversary of the beginning of this blog. Yahoo!

Also, Valentine's Day was the 14-year anniversary of the day my husband won my heart. You have probably read this story before because I've written about our love story here. But, too bad, I'm writing about it again.

Rewind to Valentine's Day 1996. Al and I had been friends for 6 years, and it was obvious to me that he wanted to be more than friends. We had dated once before, but I had thought we could only be friends. I just didn't think he was the "one" for me. But God had been working on my heart, slowly helping me to realize all the ways that Al was so good for me. He was always taking care of me, serving me and loving me in practical ways, like taking my car to get an oil change and then getting the interior cleaned as well. That's exactly what happened on Valentine's Day 1996. I was at my job as a preschool teacher. Al came to get my car so he could get the oil changed. When he returned the car, he gave me my keys and we said, "see you later" since we'd be going out with a group of friends for ice cream later in the evening.

I had to close that night. I said good-bye to the last children and I tidied up the Childcare Center a bit before locking up. It was a beautiful winter night. Snow was falling quietly in soft, huge flakes. The sky was lit up by the snow, so it was a relatively bright walk out to my car. When I got to my car, there was a snow covered carnation tucked into the windshield wiper. This was nothing new, and it wasn't even much of a gift on Al's part, since the dealership gave out free carnations with every oil change. But that simple little gesture, along with a small note from Al, asking me if he could treat me to ice cream, was all it took for Al to finally win my heart. I took the flower and the note and sat in my car and cried for joy. I knew Al loved me, and I had been falling in love without even knowing it!

Shortly after that, I told Al I was ready to pursue a "more-than-friends" relationship with him, to which his response was, "YESSSSSS!" Four months later we were engaged, and five months after that, we were married.

I'm so glad that God - and my husband - kept after me until I realized how good Al would be for me!

All right. I know that I seem to "complain" a lot. But I'm going for comedic catharsis when I list my many ailments and tell you how sorry you should feel for me. Seriously, I'm ok, just a little frustrated. And yes, occasionally I'm depressed, but I'll tell you if I am. After my post yesterday, I got a little too much sympathy and not many laughs. Must be losing my edge.

I did actually get that pain checked out because my husband had an appointment and didn't really want to go, so I just took his. And guess what??? I was right. It is most likely a pulled muscle, and although my doc didn't acknowledge that it was the rectus abdominus muscle, I'm pretty sure it was. He probably didn't want me to know I was right lest I develop a regimen of regularly diagnosing myself online.

Our doctor also happens to be a good friend from college. He and I did campus evangelism together, and he and my hubby were room-mates. He is the godfather of one of our children, and all his children and ours are good friends. So, it's just a little awkward when I have to disrobe in any fashion. He had to feel my belly and make me sit up so my lovely rolls spilled all over. To me, that's far more embarrassing than any other area that he might have to investigate. But he is a very good doctor and we trust him implicitly.

And, well, it did give me the motivation to do some crunches. . . . once that muscle heals.

Psychological Musings

I was a psychology major in college. That's it. No further expertise. But my husband and I often joke about a variety of psychological phenomenon and occasionally accuse each other of having different maladies. (He has an MSW, but left the Social Work field and is now a Network Administrator - i.e. computer geek.)

So, it probably doesn't help that I have a limited psychology background because I'm always trying to analyze myself. I think way too much and ponder on what's wrong with me. This is not a good thing. For the record, I do occasionally try to look outward and be more service-minded and less Jen-minded, but the gravity of self-absorption is too strong for me to break free for very long.

So, here's what I'm wondering: I wonder if all (or at least most) of my physical ailments are psychological. I have migraines, allergies, gall bladder problems, bunions, depression, fatigue, and, introducing, some weird pain in my abdomen. I'm just getting over bronchitis, which is probably part of the reason I was in a stupor for the last month - I came home from Florida with a cold that never really went away and eventually morphed into bronchitis.

So, now that that's getting under control, I get this weird abdominal pain. During the day yesterday, I felt it and it was the kind of pain you get from doing ab crunches. But I thought to myself, "This is weird. I haven't done any ab crunches since last fall sometime." As I went to bed, I realized it was kind of painful to sleep in a certain position because that area of my abdomen hurt. And when I went to get up - ouch!!! It is definitely a sharp kind of pain when I move it in just the right way. So, I got to thinking, "Great! I'm going to have to go to the doctor and spend more money on a stupid copay and even more prescriptions than I'm on right now." Then I set to analyzing the pain. It's not far down enough to be appendicitis, and it's not far up enough to be gall bladder pain. And it's far enough into my abdomen that it's probably not kidney-related but I do have a little pain radiating to my back. I finally did a little research on the web and, in no time flat, diagnosed myself with a pulled rectus abdominus muscle. . . .I hope. I also tend to be a bit of a hypochondriac because I start thinking, "What if it's something serious and I only have a month to live." But I am able to talk myself out of that mindset before I truly panic. So, I sit here today, typing away about this pain and not going to the doctor because I'm sure it will go away before long. (And please don't worry - if it does persist for more than a few days, I will have my doctor look at it - I'm not that stupid!)

The frustrating thing is that it's always something with me. I never seem to be healthy any more. I fantasize about being a healthy, energetic mom who keeps her kids fed and manages to make it through the day without a nap. I'm turning into one of those old ladies who ALWAYS has some health problem to tell you about. "Well, it's going to rain because that corn on my bunion turned purple and then my back started aching, and oh, my lordy, it's gonna be quite a storm."

The problem is: I don't want to be that lady. BUT, have I sabotaged myself? I occasionally enjoy the excuse to drive the kids to school while I'm still in my pajamas and then come back home to some hot coffee, a nap or two and a few video games (ok, well, it's like hours of video games, but that issue merits an entirely different intervention). But I don't want to do that every day. I want to get up and be productive and efficient and energetic. I want to accomplish more than a garden slug.

But does my brain tell my body to come up with some new ailment every time and old one is medicated so that I have yet another excuse to lay low? Yes, I really would love to hibernate, as I have addressed in many previous posts, so am I subconsciously looking for a way to do so?

I hope not. When I felt this weird abdominal pain in its full glory, my response was, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!!! Can't I ever feel good for JUST ONE DAY??? And I'm reasonably sure that is my husband's response as well because he has to pick up the slack every time I'm not feeling good.

This is probably why I never actually became a psychologist: I would spend too much time talking about myself and my own problems to adequately help anyone else. Or maybe that would be a good thing. Patients would slowly inch toward the door, feeling much better about their own issues, as I rattled on incessantly about my gall bladder and my bunions and my rectus abdominus.

Prayers requested for a friend

Hey, all! Ground-breaking news - I'm posting for the 2nd day in a row! I know, as soon as you pick yourself up off the floor, you'll keep reading with eagerness.


Would you all please pray for my friend R and her 2-month old baby J who is in the ICU with RSV (Respiratory Syncitial Virus), which, if you don't know about it, is a very common virus that causes most people to have a cold. But for some children, especially small babies and children with respiratory problems, like asthma, RSV can be life-threatening. It can cause bronchiolitis, which is an inflammation of the bronchioles in the lungs, which can cause extreme difficulty in breathing. Several years back, the daughter of one of my BFF's was hospitalized with RSV for 11 days, and indeed, she did almost die. So, now everyone in our circles knows how serious RSV can be. This means that my friend R also knows how serious this can be and if very worried about her little baby boy. But he is stable. And, being a breastfed, chubby and otherwise healthy little baby leads me to be very confident that he will recover just fine. He just needs the extra help of forced oxygen and the watchful eye of the ICU staff at this point while his little body battles the RSV.


I was at the hospital for a good chunk of the day yesterday so my friend could get some rest, get a shower and make phone calls (her husband is currently driving back from California, which obviously adds to the stress of the situation). During the time I was there, J's nurse was on the scene regularly and the respiratory therapist and attending physician made appearances only one time. And while it seemed to me that they all essentially said the same thing, my friend was visibly distraught by the doctor telling her that her baby would have to be on high-flow oxygen for at least another 24 hours. However, when the nurse came in and said basically the same thing, my friend was much more encouraged because the nurse was able to communicate that her experience with babies over 20 years made her believe that J would turn the corner and improve soon.


Did you ever realize how easy it is to walk into a situation like this and offer support and an encouraging word. I am quite confident that this little baby will improve over the next few days, and in no time, he'll be home and as good new. I can look into my friend's face and say, "don't worry, he'll be OK." But it's never as easy to receive that kind of encouragement as it is to give it. And it makes a difference when you receive that kind of encouragement from someone who's been there. I pray that I will become a better encourager and help people to truly have hope. Sounds kind of ironic for someone who struggles with depression, hey???


Please pray for my friend's peace and the quick recovery of her chubby, beautiful boy.