There’s more going on than they can say.

When I was in elementary school our church was growing, and we started construction of a larger building. Construction is terrific fodder for kids’ questions, but it seems many men (as most of the workers/volunteers were) have a limited capacity for questions.

I remember asking (or beginning to ask) something of a pair of men, when one asked me, “Amy, can you tell me why children ask so many questions?”

I was fully aware of how he was “playing” me for his friend (you probably have seen or have yourself played a child for the entertainment of another adult), but– here was my nature manifesting at that young age– I took the question literally and deliberated how to answer.

I was somehow aware that whatever I said, they would probably turn it back on me, and I knew I would feel horribly self-conscious the next question I asked, but finally answered anyway; and honestly, despite the flack I guessed I’d get.

“Some questions kids ask because they really want to know, and some they ask because they don’t want to think for themselves.”

I knew this was true because they were both true of me. And I was afraid that now they knew the two divisions of questions that they might assume anything I asked was the latter.

They might have chuckled, I don’t remember, and I felt gagged. I wanted desperately to know what they were doing, but I knew whatever I said next would be directly tied to what I just revealed.

Finally, unable to stay quiet, and thinking it a safe question, I asked, “Why are you cutting that pipe?” They were working in the foyer, in between where the men’s and women’s restrooms were going to be.

The same fellow looked at me and said, for his friend’s benefit, I could tell, “Because it’s too long.”

I was aware of being mocked. I was the occasion for a joke.

I felt the thing I’d said with absolute clarity and honesty was not valued, and my vulnerability was not protected.

How’s that for a crushing blow in childhood?

It doesn’t feel hurtful now, and honestly I don’t remember if it “hurt” then. I do remember feeling humiliated and running it off in the unfinished hallways upstairs.

In Jane Eyre, Bronte observes

Children can feel, but they cannot analyze their feelings; and if the analysis is partially effected in thought, they know not how to express the result of the process in words.

This is my experience. And if there is any lesson I may take away from the memory (or impart through it), it is the reality that children are much more aware than we frequently credit them.

I do not remember this often enough.

This is why I want to honor (acknowledge, and answer to some extent) the questions my children ask and try not to use children for a joke they’re not included in.

(My next post will be about avoiding the crazies while “allowing” children’s questions to have value.)

Strengthening Marriages

I’m just beginning to explore the website, but Smart Marriages has already given me a lot to think about.

I love the concept of specifically creating a project out of finding ways to strengthen marriages.

One idea that sounded both simple and effective was the celebration of anniversaries (to the same or greater extent as birthdays, for example) as one way to honor and promote marriage. Such a practical idea. And I’ve already got dozens of anniversaries in my PDA along with birthdays…

~ ~ ~

Here is a quote without a footnote, but very intriguing:

You need only do three things in this country to avoid poverty –
finish high school, marry before having a child, and marry after the age of 20. Only 8 percent of the families who do this are poor; 79 percent of those who fail to do this are poor.

William Galston, Clinton White House

Know Your Audience

At a family dinner last night there were fourteen children 8 and younger.

Twelve of them are 4 or younger, and six of those are under 19-months.

One of the dads works construction in the summer, which (if you don’t know) generally involves early mornings and long, physically-demanding hours.

He joined in a conversation his wife and three other moms were having about sleep-deprivation, chiming in with how tired he was with work and sometimes getting up with the kids, and how his wife got even less sleep than he.

“I don’t know how she does it,” he said, with the proper admiration in his voice. Nobody said anything. “I’m just exhausted,” he repeated.

Somehow we ladies all seemed to be waiting for his point. He looked around at us all and cringed theatrically.

“Tough crowd!”

Good Tea

Did you know good teas are very similar to good wines?

By this I mean they can be expensive (wouldn’t you know I’d start there), their flavor is influenced by the pH of the soil their plants grow in, different times of collection and aging affect the flavor, and the variations are nearly endless.

If you are someone who delights in the unique flavors of different wines, I’d encourage you to find a teacupping (I believe it’s called) in your area, to introduce your pallet to some fascinating flavors.

I have friend who recently began a small-business selling tea and bought a bit to support her.

I love it.

It occurred to me that the idea of drinking tea to lose weight (I’m not even going to go into this further) has a true element, if this evening’s experience holds true: it doesn’t need to be a chemical zap or a magic pill.  It simply is, and the result is a decreased desire to eat.

While drinking my oolong, I noticed that the the warmth gave me a sense of being full, and the vague, almost sweet aftertaste of the oolong itself (I don’t put anything in my tea) left my palate satisfied.

Here is essentially nothing nutritious (in a sustaining sense), lulling my body into a place of contentment and satiety.

It made me think (wouldn’t you know…) about the Holy Spirit, and the idea of feeding on the Word.

~

Our gentle God does not (usually) alter the course of His created order, or make us change with a zap. He is gracious and patient with us, never changing. He simply is. And affects us by His nature.

~

There is no physiological reason to find filled-ness (or refreshing, or joy), in a book, but something in the way God created us provides just that.

~

Just now I am simply thankful for the warm parable in my cup: a bit of soggy-leaf juice, offering warmth, relaxation and satiety.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”

James 1:17

Do we get a prize?

For a week now, Jay has cleaned the living room and vacuumed it each night.

For a week now, I have daily taken some form of outdoor, active exercise; a walk (with my dog and 20-lb “pack”), or a 17-minute bike ride.

We both feel ready for some sort of prize. I guess this is where/why someone came up with that old saying:

Virtue is its own reward.

Yeah. I guess so…

“Only 15-minutes”

Have you ever thought about the number of things we’re told we should be able to squeeze into each day because they only take 15-minutes.

  1. the amount of time added to meal-prep to make it from scratch (my unofficial average)
  2. the ab/butt/thigh destroyer (never done it, but a classic example)
  3. improve/expand your vocabulary (ditto)
  4. practice a musical instrument
  5. read the paper
  6. write a letter a day (to an old friend, to your representative, to the editor)
  7. memorize scripture
  8. read through your bible in a year
  9. journal before bed
  10. stretch
  11. take a short walk
  12. train your dog
  13. paint with your children (paint your children?)
  14. Bathe the children
  15. Shower yourself
  16. clean the bathroom
  17. tête-à-tête with your spouse when you meet again in the evening
  18. Putting on make-up in the morning
  19. washing your face four different ways before bed
  20. washing the dishes after dinner

There’s about five-hours worth of stuff there and I’ve barely touched on the basics of house maintenance and meal prep.

It really does go back to doing what we want most to do.

I think our limitations are just one more way of God to remind us both of our finiteness and of our need to depend on Him: both for the wisdom of what to actually do, and for provision in the gaps of what we are not able to do.

Current Life Summary

I just wrote an e-mail to someone I haven’t spoken to in some time. My final paragraph seemed like a great life-summary for just now:

We’re still in our house we bought in 2002, our youngest just turned a year old, and we just acquired a dog.

Anybody who doesn’t know dogs and kids thinks I’m nuts (either about the three kids or the dog, depending which they’re partial to). Me, I just feel blessed. Tired, sometimes, and frequently distracted, yes, but definitely blessed in God’s provision for our family.

God seems to have molded into my character the ability to feel positive and thankful even when I’m too tired to entirely act that way.

He is a very gracious God. I’d rather have this (and know the energy to act will eventually return) than merely be a decent actress and have to constantly redirect my heart.

Dependence

“Child-like dependence.”

The phrase makes me think of a dependence so utter that it can not even understand its dependency or articulate its need.

This is not the “cute” dependency of a baby or toddler gazing adoringly into your face as you cuddle.

This is the exhausted, hungry, sunburned child who is such an inarticulate puddle of maxed-out emotion and discomfort that she can’t tell you which need is greatest and might even reject overtures of help as attacks on her (albeit insufficient) autonomy.

My poor Melody was this yesterday. Elisha cutting teeth was this most of the night. Natasha well past nap was this today, minus the hungry.

And cross Mother is definitely at that place of inarticulate dependence.

All I can pray is, “It’s a good thing your Spirit prays for me when I don’t have the words, because I’m ‘standing in the need of’ without even the understanding enough to think what it is I should ask for.”

One More Dog-talk

This is mostly the sort of thing I’d do at my home blog, but since I don’t really get comments there I felt like gabbing here this time.

The other part of my dog’s make-up is some kind of bull-terrier. Probably Staffordshire. I made the choice yesterday (it was the morning of our monthly women’s meeting– this one was a tea workshop/tasting. Fascinating.) to say I had adopted a small lab-mix.

Entirely true, this allowed me to describe my new family member without needing to defend her, or my choice, just yet.

Actually, when I happily shared that I had finally gotten the dog one of the church mothers laughed, and said, “I knew she was either going to say she’d gotten a dog or was pregnant. I guess we’ll have the dog first.”

There is one woman in this group who also has a dog, and she seemed to understand my excitement.

“Amy has been praying about this for a long time,” she pointed out.

In a chicken-or-the-egg manner I wonder if this is why Shadow seems to fit so well– the groundwork laid, or the “right” dog provided/picked.

I suppose it’s a combination, though I like Katz’s observations in that article.

~~~

In getting a pity-lab I decided to “spurn the world’s opinion,” and in describing her as a lab, I am attempting to save us both from general opprobrium.

I think it’s not unreasonable to assume that those who will recognize (or ask about) the pit in Shadow will be close enough also to notice the permeating sweetness of her disposition.

This may only work until the first person meets her, or it may last longer. I just want to do what I can to get her a fair hearing.

It is this pit-ness that makes me ultra-sensitive to how she responds to newness, and other dogs in particular.

~

Shadow seems to be aware of people’s perceptions of her. She has reacted fearfully to the three grown-ups that were apprehensive of her but still tried to interact.

Two of these were my parents, to whom I had/have done my best to explain the solidness and general positivity of the breed locally (we have no dogfighting in our area, so the breed’s popularity is as a pet, and the majority of temperaments are representative of that.)

Shadow was very fearful of them and avoided contact until after we all went on a long walk.

By the end of that, both the dog and my parents seemed to have seen enough to make them all comfortable, and all parted on fine terms.

The most interesting thing to me about that walk was my husband did all the dog handling. A few times he jogged with her reluctant participation.

“This is a great dog to jog with,” he came back to tell us. “Makes me feel really fast: I’m out-running a dog!

His analysis when we got home:

“I don’t care what her breed is, or how they’re ‘supposed’ to act. She’s done better in two-days with minimal training than [our last lab-mix] did” in four months.

My dog-resistant husband is letting himself be won-over. That is saying a great deal.

I could make a list (but I won’t here) about all the specific ways Shadow is meshing with our family, and they greatly outweigh the small things we’re working around.

As nervous as I feel, and it is just a little (I can’t help it– can one totally ignore the pounding to mistrust?), I see God graciously re-confirming this is a proper match, and want to work carefully to secure that.

Nothing Clever Today

I’ve started this post four or five times, and it keeps being more of a laundry-list than anything else.

But:

I now have my dog.

She isn’t vizsla (though she does have the compact, muscular body with the short hair– dark brown instead of russet), and she isn’t a Brittany (though she is that size and already proving quite trainable and perfect with the kids).

I just mention the above because those were the breeds I was researching/pursuing the most recently.
A lab-mix, Shadow displays the best of the mellow of that breed, and has learned since Thursday night several things that are very desirable to our family.

She has even managed to not-bother Jay, though that may be as much to Jay’s credit as the dog’s.

It was Jay who emphasized we shouldn’t consider the animal shelter’s 10-day exchange policy as a trial period.

“I expect the transition to be bumpy,” he said. “So we just need to commit to her and go for it.”

Amazingly, the transition has been rather smooth, so far. The girls are becoming more assertive and Shadow is learning quickly.

The one rough spot we’ve had was Friday night when the neighbor across the street brought her dog over to meet our new arrival. That deteriorated into awful barking from both of them, so we didn’t trust them nearer each other.

We neither of us lost control of our animals, but neither dog really listened to our embarrassed orders to be quiet or “nice” either. We might try again in a week or two, to see if Shadow being more settled will make a difference.

In the mean-time, I’m going to begin classes with her, and I’m hoping the presence of a more experienced dog-person will make a difference in canine introductions. There have been no problems with people.

Both girls have really embraced their role as the dog’s boss (something in question earlier in the week), and Natasha’s favorite thing right now is “walking” the dog– holding her leash and pretending to chose which direction they go in. She frequently tries to “sneak” the leash out of my hand when I’m talking to someone, but I will only let them walk together in the fenced yard.

Sometimes Shadow indulges Natasha’s preference, and sometimes Natasha is reminded the dog is stronger.

It is very fun to watch them together.