Self-improvement September

Dont lie to me, he tells me. 

And then, Women always say that:

I don’t need anything. 

I wasn’t hungry anyway. 

I’m okay. 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

You go, I’ll be fine. 

People experience similar things, but rarely, maybe never, are two experiences/emotions identical. Close enough to be relatable, absolutely. Identical, I doubt it. So. when my husband plays the women always card I usually get upset at him. This time I looked into his eyes and laughed, because in that moment it felt like he spoke the truth about me, and he spoke it in the kindest way he knew. I knew he was clumsily trying to help me realize something about myself and our relationship. And if it’s a truth about people other than me, women or men, great. If not, it’s still me. 

Tell me if you can relate to me. If you’re Someone who says she’s okay, she’ll manage, when in reality she probably won’t. Someone who sacrifices the things she needs for the people around her, when it’s not healthy for anyone involved. Someone who apologizes for her personality instead of apologizing for the things she can control -her words for example. Someone who pushes away the people who try to listen to her. Someone who says no when someone wants to help.  Someone who hides her weaknesses behind responsibilities and commitments. Someone who refuses to admit to being incapable.

I’m all about being an independent, capable, strong woman, about being unselfish (but you know from my last post how hard that is for me.) and sometimes life doesn’t leave me a lot of choices. But frequently my stubborn independence and strength alienates people close to me, and my unwillingness to admit weakness makes it difficult to be realistic. 

I’m saying it like it is today. 

I was too chicken to post this when I wrote it, but after my post earlier this week I decided I have nothing to lose. September seems to be the time for personal growth essays. Readers, do you have any of your own to share ? 

Maybe in October I’ll switch from self improvement to house improvement stories. Who is interested in reading those ?

No One Talks About the Days

No one talks about the days when you sit on a gravel pile beside your brother in law and try not to cry.* Tears Because. All the things. But Basically because you’re a selfish person and can’t muster up the patience today (and yesterday and the day before that, and beyond) demands. Also Because you’re tired of his passive aggressive attempts to hurt you every time he gets within kicking or shoving distance.  Also because you can’t listen to one more of his continuous inane questions without screaming. Also because there’s one slice of pizza in the fridge that’s calling your name really loudly, but you know that as a semi-loving semi-responsible adult you’ll have to share it with him. At least he kept the swearing for his mother. 

In the moment, I just see behaviours. The agression. The whining. The not listening. The calling his mom a string of expletives. The crying dramatically if he doesn’t get what he wants. The purposely doing things to annoy people. The endless endless endless talking. 

In the moment I don’t think about how his life has been. The first few weeks of school this year  have been hard for him -a favourite teacher quit after the first few days because a not so favourite teacher isn’t cooperating to make his school days happy and successful. Home Life is a little chaotic right now with people working crazy hours on harvesting and meals happening in random locations and fields. Further back, he has struggled for most of his life with illnesses, seizures, and physical handicaps. Further back yet, before he was belonged to this family, he was a tragically neglected baby who was never removed from his car seat for the first months of his life and had minimal human interaction before coming to live with our family.  

Life with a child with handicaps is difficult. He’s not my child, but he’s spent a lot of time at our house lately. (Remind me again -why did we move so close to The Parents?) He can be precious, adorable, loving, even helpful. These qualities have been scarce recently. When he was in bed tonight, the last battle of the day over, I was finally able to get some perspective -to think about the tragedies of his life and how they have impacted him, to remember that he does not have to tools to communicate his feelings, emotions, or even physical pains through words. “Every behaviour is a message,” says my mil after he’s finally asleep. His behaviours are so much easier to process when he’s sleeping. 

An admonition. Treat people with handicaps with respect. Treat their caregivers with respect. You may not be someone who knows what it’s like, and that’s okay. A former student who is growing up fast told me some wise words today about how to treat “our” child, and this applies universally. “Treat him like you treat everyone else,” she said, “kindly.”

*i realize this specific situation is not a universal problem. however, selfishness and reacting badly in difficult situations are. if anyone has suggestions for ways to be a better adult in these situations I would love to hear them. 

A Word on Subscibring, and How Mennonite Weddings are Just Big Memory Games

First of all, thanks, Cuz, for the post last week. I was as excited to post it as you all were to read! It gave my blog some new perspective and meaning on life and living with a chronic disease. Some readers have expressed interested in hearing Mom Life perspectives so this post certainly qualified in that category as well.  

Life Update 

We moved. Finally. We’ve been in our house for over two weeks now, and have had (night) company for a lot of that time. Although it’s easy to focus on all the work we have ahead of us, we are so relieved to be out of town in the wide open space of our acreage. This week we’ve worked on chopping holes in the interior of the house, putting windows in the basement and finding creative ways to keep the cat outside every night. Re the Cat: he’s won every night so far. We kind of spoiled him when the little girls were here by letting him sleep with them. I know. I know. But have you ever seen anything cuter than a little girl snuggled up to a big Worange cat ?  

I have our old house listed on AirBnb, and we just finished successfully hosting our fantastic first guest (fantastic because he left a good review). He stayed for nearly a week. I couldn’t believe my luck; I never imagined there were actually people looking for short term rentals in our sleepy village !  I’m also convinced it’s only beginner’s luck; I probably won’t get any more bookings, but it was a good beginning. 

My Mums and two little sisters came to spend time with me (us).  They stayed for a whole week, which is about 6 days longer than they usually stay.  The little girls had a happy time going to Bible school, and Mums worked hard helping me with all sorts of things. We ate better when she was here than we have all summer; she even left delicious foods and ingredients  in our fridge /freezer when she went home. 

Memory Games 

I sat beside a sil at a wedding reception the other day and tried to figure out who people were. Who’s that teenager. Whose kid is that. Who is that girl’s husband. Is this one a friend to that one.  Is that guy in love with that girl. Almost every person is part of a set -a family, a friendship, a marriage, a youth group. Many people belong to several sets. A friendship and youth group. A family and a congregation. I spend my time matching people up and asking other people for hints when I can’t figure out who belongs with whom. Unlike in a real Memory Game, people are usually happy to give hints about the matched sets they know about and also ask questions of their own. Usually there’s one or two people who aren’t part of any set at all, and those ones are the most confusing. Sadly, my memory is lacking. I may have inherited some form of face blindness. If Mennonite weddings were actually a massive game of Memory, I’d lose big time.  

Subscribing. 

I still haven’t figured out a new notification system for my blog. The data service at our new house is less than stellar and our wifi hasn’t been set up yet, so anything more than basic messaging blogging internet use (ie. situations where I have to load a lot of different pages/ articles) is difficult right now. For now, if anyone is interested in subscribing I’ll use an old fashioned, unautomated method. If you want alerts on new posts, send me your email address or WhatsApp number and I will add you to a broadcast. Once you’re part of the broadcast you’ll get a message every time another post goes up on my blog. To be qualified for updates send your contact info to my mobile number or through my email address peacelovefords@gmail.com. 

My Life With an Autoimmune Disease and Becoming a Wife and Mama ☆guest post☆

Today, a guest post from my friend who is also my cousin.

My Life With an Autoimmune Disease and Becoming a Wife and Mama

☆guest post☆

I was diagnosed with JRA,(Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis), when I was one year old. I have never known life without it. I learned to walk approximately a month before I turned 2. It was a miracle and I am very grateful to God that I'm not in a wheelchair. My parents could tell you more about the early days, months, and years of this than I can. I'll try and give you a little glimpse of how my life has been. 

RA has definitely made my life painful and not always very easy. I haven't been able to do everything my friends were doing such as running fast or playing well at games and sports in school. Some sports I didn't participate in at all. (I went to our private church school for 9 years.) I also have suffered from side effects of medications at times. After I had graduated from grade 9 I was able to do some babysitting. When I was 16 and a half I started working part-time babysitting a darling baby boy. That job became more full time and I was there when another darling baby boy joined the family and I stayed with them till the oldest was 6 and the youngest was 3. Then I headed off an hour from home to teach school in another of our private church schools. I stayed there for 2 school terms, had a few months off and headed off to Edmonton to volunteer for 6 months. Then I came home and taught in another of our church schools closer to home for one school term. When that school term was over I guess I figured that with me having arthritis and all and I was 26.5, I wasn't going to get married, so I accepted this fact. Soon after that acceptance, I received a proposal from my fellow teacher. I said yes. During these different stages of life I suffered from various arthritis flare ups, pain, side effects from meds, etc. During our engagement I changed my arthritis meds because the one I was on was making me feel nauseated and sick a lot of the time. This new med didn't make me feel this way thankfully. We got married and enjoyed young couple life. Of course there are adjustments to a new life. And my health was not the best. I didn't have a lot of energy and I couldn't garden because kneeling is pretty painful for my knees. I know my yard wasn't beautiful and it hurt sometimes to know that and wonder what others were thinking. I compared to other young married women and I didn't do a lot of things that they did. I've had to realize and remind myself many times that people will not always understand and I shouldn't compare either. It hurts sometimes but a person has to get over that. And not only that! I need to remind myself many times not to judge others either. Arthritis is an invisible disease to a certain extent. I don't know what invisible things others are dealing with. I hope and pray I can be understanding. I also want to say that my life wasn't all discouraging and filled with pain. I've had many happy times and blessings too. Now I'll write a little on getting myself to motherhood. 

First of all I asked my rheumatologist what the chances were of me having a child with RA. I don't remember numbers, but he told me that the chance of me having a child with RA is only slightly higher than for someone who doesn't have RA. 

When you are on certain types of meds you can't get pregnant while you are on them. That's how it was for me. This meant going off of my medication, cleansing it from my body and waiting a certain amount of months before trying to get pregnant. During that time my arthritis majorly flared and I could hardly walk. So they put me on a pregnancy-safe med and I didn't get pregnant. Finally I found out that this particular med can mess with your cycles. So I switched meds and it didn't take long after that. My pregnancy was not all easy. Morning sickness, sinus infection, scary arthritis flare, and the pandemic. But I made it to 40 weeks...

MOTHERHOOD 

In summer 2020 our dear little C was born, via emergency c-section. She was born right on my due date. A tiny little thing, but the sweetest little thing. We were in the hospital for a couple of days before we went home. Then my husband was home the rest of the week before going back to work. Because I had c-section I had to have full time help so our families pitched in, especially my mother and my mother in law. Also the church ladies brought meals. About 2 weeks postpartum, I landed up back in the hospital with infection on my incision. Little C and my husband were with me there. Once we were home again I had to have home care come in to do dressing changes. Our moms continued to help us. I feel like the newborn stage was not the most fun for me because of all the extra complications, but I adored our sweet little baby even if it meant getting up a lot at night. Being in a pandemic with unbearable lockdowns, having RA, and having a baby didn't make life very easy. I relied on my mom a lot when my husband was at work. I was depressed at times. BUT there are so many joys in motherhood and I believe that they far outweigh the bad things that happened/happen. Watching a baby develop is so much fun! Learning to eat cereal and baby food from a jar, learning to move around, playing with toys, giggling,  cooing, talking, getting teeth(not all fun), learning to crawl, eating table food, and so much more! Little C is my life. She is now a year old. No, I still don't get everything done. My yard isn't beautiful, I don't always get meals cooked, and our house is often dirty. But my husband is so good about bringing food home or helping cook. (We also have some meals at our parents' places.) My husband helps with other jobs too.

I have to remind myself that the most important thing as a mama is keeping my little one happy. Reading to her, singing to her, feeding her, talking to her. Yes, I have to get laundry and dishes done, but she will play happily a lot of times while I'm busy. Sometimes she likes to come "help" me. I love her so much! She is the joy and happiness in my day. So is my husband! It's fun to make him happy too! When I feel up to it, I enjoy cooking a good meal. 

Some days are easier than others. Some days I feel like I hardly get anything done. Little C maybe had a bad night and so I'm tired and don't get a lot done. Sometimes dishes are stacked up in the sink for a week or more. Sometimes they get done every day. Thankfully I have a dishwasher so a lot of the dishes go in there. 

I feel like I'm jumping around with my thoughts here a little. Another thing about having arthritis and being a mom is that the first how many months of Little C's life she mostly got her baths at my mom's house. I can't kneel on my knees so to kneel on the floor by a bathtub wasn't an option. My mom has a nice big laundry sink where we gave Little C her baths. Now she is big enough she can have baths at home. I had to bathe with her the first while because she was scared of the running water but now she loves baths and I sit on the edge to watch her play and wash her. 

One more thing. I feel so grateful for my husband! In the evenings he generally takes care of Little C while I quickly finish up some work, have a shower, and take a rest in bed reading and just relaxing. I need this so I can keep on being the happy Mama I want to be.

Being a wife and Mama isn't always easy when you have RA. But it is 100% worth it!!!

Pasta Recipe

Unstaged photo of 3-day-old Pasta. This sauce was made with 3ish spoonfuls of tomato sauce and the noodles are gluten-free ones salvaged from some  gourmet Kraft-dinner style packages that super store likes to pawn off on me when I spend a lot of money there. 

Purist Pasta

This recipe is roughly based off one my family has been making for years. The ingredients have been a list in my brain since I was a preteen, and I have been using and adapting it ever since. The current version, the one I’m posting today, is an homage to the fresh garden produce (onions, garlic, herbs, squash, and more) so abundant at this time of year. This is a recipe to take with you as you start wrapping up your summer and edge your way toward fall.

Ingrédients. List I. 

•1-2 newly harvested garlic cloves, peeled and thoroughly smashed (I use a kitchen mallet or knife blade) 

•1 small garden onion diced into tiny pieces (optional) 

•1/2-1 cup butter (No substitutions.) 

•Handful of fresh parsley, basil, or mixture of both, finely chopped 

Directions. Part I. 

In a pot, sauté garlic, and onion in butter over lowish heat for 10-15 minutes or until soft. Stir periodically; do not let the butter or aromatics brown or burn. Add herbs and sauté a minute or two longer. While your veg are sautéing I’d recommend getting that pasta cooking or turning your oven up really high and roasting some wedges of spaghetti squash. If you’re not interested in a meatless meal toss a couple strips of bacon on a hot cast iron pan or whip up a batch of blackened chicken. 

•optional: finely diced sweet pepper, jalapeño, habanero, spinach and/or Swiss chard can be added along with onion and garlic at the beginning of the sautéing stage.  I like these add-ins, but the purist in me loves the original uncomplicated version the most.  

Ingrédients. List II. 

•1/2-1 cup Parmesan (I start with a smaller amount and adjust to taste)
•1 cup of milk or heavy cream. 
•4-6 heaping spoonfuls of sour cream.  If you’re using heavy cream you will need less sour cream.
• salt and pepper 

Directions. Part II. 

1. Add the above ingredients parm, milk/cream, sour cream, s+p to your pot of butter and sautéed veg. 

2. Cook over low/medium heat, stirring frequently until it the sauce is heated through and ingredients are semi-incorporated. It’s hard to get the butter and milk to blend; it doesn’t affect the end result if they’re slightly separated. This sauce can hold up to a 15-20 minute simmer on low low heat if you give it a little stir every once in a while. 

3. Taste your sauce, keeping in mind that once you pour it over the calm canvass of pasta, the flavours won’t be nearly as intense. Adjust ingredients to your liking. Add butter for saltiness, parm for intensity, milk if you don’t have quite enough sauce, sour cream for creaminess. And if you to play up the comfort food aspect , add a dash or two of some kind of tomato sauce (pasta sauce, pizza sauce, sautéed tomatoes, whatever) just enough that your sauce looks pinkish. You’ll know you have the right amount when each bite has a quiet, sweet, tangy, tomatoy undertone. 

4. Pour sauce over cooked pasta of your choice, or serve with roasted spaghetti squash, my favourite way to eat this in fall. 

5. Serving this dish with slivers of crispy bacon and blackened  chicken are great way to erase the vegetarian connotations of this dish, but honestly, if you get the sauce right, you don’t even need the meat. 

6. Finally, garnish with a few sprigs of parsley, and serve.

 

My Life in A Word

I told my mom about our evening. 

Although I hadn’t even included the dramatic details of all the dramatic incidents preluding the dramatic main event, she replied, “That’s dramatic.” 

I told her that word basically fit our whole life. 

She said she couldn’t disagree. 

I frequently wish for less drama. 

Some weeks are more dramatic than others. 

Some days. 

Today isn’t one of them.

 I miss the drama of yesterday.

 Anticlimax is my nemesis.

Hesitant Missionary

You look down on people who don’t do what you do, she said. I love it that there are people in my life who can tell me this stuff. I fully recognized it as truth. I don’t want to be this person. I want each of you to do the things you’re doing, the role you’re called to, without feeling judgement from me. Honestly, I want you to treat me the same way. 

Many days (today, for example) I feel reluctant to participate in the life I’ve been called to, just like the main character in my latest audio book read. Sadly, it’s a novel. I want it to be true. Although reluctant to begin with, Main Character soon has a change of heart and becomes Hesitant Missionary. She gives up her source of income, sells her most expensive possessions, buys a motorcycle 🏍.  Hesitant Missionary devotes her time to driving though the rough parts of town befriending the friendless and then devotes her life and home to supporting women and their children trying to exit drug and prostitution rings. 

Hesitant Missionary made a lot of mistakes. She alienated  friends because they didn’t like the drastic ways she was changing her life to serve others. (Spoiler alert: Like in every good novel, they came around to her way of thinking for a happily ever after ending.) Hesitant Missionary ignored the Holy Spirit sometimes because she thought she had better ideas. She failed some of the people she tried to help but also managed to genuinely help a few. She forgot how to have faith after a woman she was trying to protect dies and a child she was trying to protect is taken into government custody. Hesitant Missionary second guessed herself every other step of the way. These failures sound incredibly true to real life; maybe it’s based on true stories.

Although much less dramatic, there’s so many ways, I recognized myself in this story. I alienate friends and family by my devotion to my kids. I second guess any decision I make. When things go wrong, I forget to have faith. I ignore the Holy Spirit and probably often don’t even notice it enough to ignore it. I disappoint the children and parents I’m supposed to be helping. I sound condescending. My friends helped me realize that it’s a stupid manipulative coping mechanism I use I’m reluctant to do the things I/we feel I/we need to do. I didn’t sign up to be the person I am. Miraculously, I became her anyway, hesitant, but almost willing. Almost willing to do the thing I’m called to do. Always vert willing to project my insecurities on others.

Hesitant Predictions for Tomorrow: 

I’m going to spend the morning trying to get the cooperation of a brother who won’t hear anything I say unless I use the words gloves and swimming.  It’s a foregone conclusion that I will be completely frustrated and energyless and quite possibly resorting to anger by the time I return him to his parents. 

Then I’m going to go to Pelly and spend the rest of the day and evening wondering how to comfort the mom whose teenager OD and nearly died. In all honesty, I’ll be hoping to avoid that conversation altogether, but, like any hesitant missionary, in the end I’ll feel compelled to halfheartedly ask how he’s doing. I’ll inevitably mumble some kind of useless response to her motherly monologue and update on his condition and prognosis. 

At the end of the day I will feel accomplished. I’ll feel happy. I’ll also probably go to sleep wishing I had done something differently. But the Hesitant Missionary taught me something: failure happens. One of my sisters-in-law taught me something else: tomorrow is another day.