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Henry (while jumping around on my bed): Hey Mom, what kind of bed is this again? Is this a King bed? Or is it a Queen bed?
Me: It's a King bed.
Henry: And what kind of bed do I have again? It's a Prince, right?
I gave up “my” time on Friday to make a birthday cake for my beloved now-7 year old. He requested a Lego cake, and I wanted to oblige. My creation won’t win any awards, but I’m quite proud of it. He was thrilled, even though he doesn’t eat frosting! (I made him some extra cupcakes without frosting).
Saturday and Sunday were full to the brim with celebrations, and unfortunately, with pain. So much pain, that I was unable to read the much-anticipated Harry Potter*. I was able to sleep 5 hours on Sunday afternoon, but I was so too far gone by then to stave off the inevitable raging flare.
I’ve been in so much pain this last week, and it continues today. I had to take 3 Vic0din just to make it through the day yesterday. I’ve had 2 already today, and will need another to make it through the evening of Lego shopping I have promised Henry. My entire body is inflamed, and I have a low-grade fever. Everything hurts. Everything. I’m exhausted and completely on edge emotionally and physically.
The fibromyalgia is becoming a bigger deal in my life. Not just because it seems to be getting worse, although that may be contributing to it. But mostly because I am learning (slowly, badly) to take care of myself. I have lived in denial for a long time, and it has caught up to me. One of the reasons I held so tightly to the denial is fear: primarily fear that people only like me for what I can do – that I have to be SuperLeah for anyone to like me, even a little bit. I have to be a great hostess, help everyone out, befriend everyone, throw great parties, send the most thoughtful thank-you notes, have the most positive attitude, exude confidence, be the most secure in my faith, be the most amazing mother and the most self-less wife, etc. It’s been very hard to let go of this fear and free-fall through unfamiliar air, hoping I’ll land okay – bumped and bruised, but hopefully intact.
It’s been hard. I know I’ve frustrated quite a few people. I frustrate myself. It’s so hard not to try grab back hold of the SuperLeah idea, but my cape is torn beyond recognition and my superpowers are now completely depleted. I have to hold on to what I have and pray that it’s going to be enough. I am very blessed. I have a great church, small group, husband, therapist and some key friends. I also know that I have been putting stress on the husband and key friends’ relationships. I have worried about the fallout. I continue to worry. I’ve had lots of reassurance along with a few emotional blows.
Yesterday I met up with a group of women that I had not seen in a long time. These playgroup moms were very important to me during Henry’s first four years. They also knew me when I was still in denial. One of them, in particular, had every right to be angry with me. We had kept in touch for quite a while, through her back surgery and other issues, but I had not been in contact for almost 10 months, during which her father died and her husband had a heart attack. I had thought about her a lot, but did I call? No. Did I email? Yes, but only once or twice. Did I send a card? Only at Christmas. Was I a lame friend? Absolutely. I begged her forgiveness, and she acknowledged her anger at me. But she also showed me incredible grace. I know I injured her, but I also know she chose to forgive.
I finally got time to write today (after waiting an hour for a blood test) and opened my laptop to a terse email from a different friend about how I have let her down for the last time and she may never talk with me again. I worried that my letting go and surrendering to the freefall would lead to situations like this. I worried that taking care of myself would cost me relationships. I have lost my first friend due to my inadequacies. I’m pretty sure she won’t be the last. It terrifies me, but I fear it’s the truth.
I know I am not doing this well. I am learning, and am learning badly. I try to take care of myself and help other people at the same time, and it rarely works out. I am still learning balance, but sometimes I leave others in the lurch. Some forgive me and show grace, teaching me how to hope and love and do this better. Some do not. I need to learn from both situations.
I am doing this badly, but I don’t know how else to do it.
I have chosen to take care of myself and put my myself and my family first. This is incredibly stressful on many levels. Many people don’t understand. Someone quite close to me thinks that having children is the most selfish thing one can do. In my case, I do struggle with that. I can’t even manage to raise my children without help. What made me think I could do this? I am a huge drain on everyone around me. I worry that I am not enough – that everyone thinks I am not worth the effort and would be better off without me. What could I possibly have to offer?
And my faith is taking a beating. I’m trying to turn to God for refuge in this time of stress, but I’m worrying that He doesn’t think I’m Enough either. What could I possibly have to offer God at this moment? I can’t fathom. I can’t see what I have to offer to anyone.
I’m just plugging along, one foot slowly in front of the other - hoping, dreaming, wishing and praying for the fog to lift, for things to make more sense, for me to feel loved and at peace. I know that eventually, things will work out better. The dust will settle enough for me to get used to my new surroundings. The freefall will end and I’ll be able to discover who I am and what my value is. Faith, hope, and dogged determination is all I have. Looking into my children’s eyes, I know it will be worth it. Eventually.
*And yes, I did finally manage to read the last (sniff) Harry Potter – I finished it last night. I had to re-read huge sections of it as I went along, realizing that the narcotics had blurred important parts – the benefit was that it made it last longer. And I’ll bet I’ll pick up even more upon the inevitable re-readings. Yes, I thought it ended well – and more importantly – correctly. Does reading this make me selfish? Probably. But I’m in too much pain and am too exhausted to process that right now. If only St. Mungo’s could mend me…
It’s also a great time for fresh fruit. I think I’ve spent 50% of our budget the last 2 weeks on fresh fruit. Cherries, watermelon, strawberries, raspberries by the flat, blueberries by the bucket... Another month and I’ll be swimming in fresh blackberries – I can’t wait!
So Monday night, I came up with a great, simple “salad”:
Rinse and shake dry a pint of fresh blueberries.
Pick and rinse about 15 leaves of the ubiquitous mint. Pat them dry and chiffonade them (stack the leaves, roll them up, and slice thinly – easy and beautiful).
Toss all together in a glass bowl. Serve with fresh whipped cream alongside for generous dollop-ing.
The large balls of melon make a nice visual contrast to the small blueberries. The mint adds another burst of freshness, and the whipped cream makes it perfect. (It’s also good without the cream.)
Mmm. I wish I had a macro lens (and some camera skills) to show you how beautiful this is. Above is the best I could do.
* I couldn't resist passing on my favorite mojito recipe. Just because I'M abstaining doesnt' mean YOU have to!
In a tall glass, muddle the sugar and mint leaves until mint is bruised heavily and you can smell it . Add the lime juice and stir or muddle until the sugar is dissolved. Add the rum and club soda and stir. Garnish with a mint sprig.
Some of you are under the impression that I can cook. I was too, until I started eating at my friend Giseli’s house. Then I realized that I can no more cook than drive a space shuttle or loom my own cotton. This woman is amazing. She makes chicken taste like ambrosia dipped in gold, kissed by angels, and served by gorgeous Englishmen. If you were told you had to give up chocolate forever to eat at her enchanted table, you would quickly say “chocolate – who cares?” I’d even give up martinis to eat her food. It’s THAT good. Especially, her meat.
So I am trying to learn how to cook meat. I grew up in a home where there were only two kinds of meat served: ground hamburger, cooked until crispy; and chicken breast baked until it was so dry the oven itself begged for mercy. In the fifteen years I’ve had my own household, I’ve been learning how to cook meat without letting it get to the crispy beef or arid chicken stage. By and large, I have been woefully unsuccessful.
I have compensated by learning how to make a delectable sauce. I can make a cream reduction sauce that will make you weep. You will be tempted to steal sly cups of my maderia gravy and eat it by the teaspoonful at home. You may wish you could smear your body with my tomato-cream-basil sauce. (Don’t worry, I won’t tell.) But all my fancy sauce-cooking grew out of up my mostly atrocious attempts to cook meat. Dry, tasteless chicken is sort of edible, but only when drowned in my sauces.
Giseli, however, makes you want to lock the ketchup away for fear that someone would commit the blasphemous crime of smearing it on her tender fare. My son Henry, who is 6 and VERY PICKY, will eat anything Ms. Giseli makes. ANYTHING: crab cakes (she makes them special for a 6 year old!), salmon, Cornish game hens, filet mignon… He turns his nose up at my sauces, but will eat just the pan drippings from anything Giseli makes. He calls her dishes “juicy meat”. When I tempt him at home with my latest attempt at whatever meat I’m attempting to not dry out, he looks at me skeptically, asks if it’s “juicy meat” and then takes forever to chew one dry, tasteless bite before pronouncing it Not. Juicy. And refusing to eat the rest of it.
Giseli invited us for lunch yesterday and after literally having to stop talking mid-sentence because my eyes were rolling into the back of my head while tasting her Cornish game hens, I decided I had to learn how to cook meat. For real, this time. I begged Giseli to tell me all she knew.
She’s a natural cook –she does everything without a recipe, and without thinking about it. She just knows what’s going to taste good. I have learned enough that I am past the point of detailed recipes (sauté five minutes over med-hi heat, in 2 T of oil is now “sauté until it looks good”) so I was hoping to glean some basic, transforming principles instead of step-by-step directions.
Since she’s from Brazil, sometimes the cooking terms take us a while to translate. First she told me she brines all her meat for two days. I sighed, thinking I did NOT have the time to brine every piece of meat. I brine my Thanksgiving turkey, a process that takes the better part of two days. I sucked it up and asked her what she put in her “brines” and after she said “beer, lime juice, chicken stock” I realized she meant “marinade”, not “brine”. I brightened – I can marinate! We laughed together and she told me some other basics: Use the meat with bones. Cook WHOLE chickens. Leave the skin on. Cut the meat down the middle and butterfly it. Marinate for at least two days. Use an alcohol and a citrus to break down the proteins. Use lots of salt. Use your eyes and fingers to determine done-ness. And your nose.
I was eager to try this advice on Saturday and serve delicious juicy meat to my dinner group. I bought bone-in, skin-on breasts, marinated them about 20 hours (unfortunately, a day shy of the magic), and grilled them to what I hoped was crisp-yet-juicy perfection. Although they were much better than my usual Sahara chicken, they were still not roll-your-eyes-back-in-your-head good.
I’m going to keep trying. Got any tried-and-true general principles for cooking juicy meat? Leave them in the comments!
I'm not much of a meme-r, but I love Defective Yeti, I love words, and I'm a maven. Therefore, there was no way I could resist taking this quiz and posting my results. I encourage you to try it too. If you do, leave a comment with a link to your blog. (Jen the Knitting Queen, I'm looking at YOU!)
The editors of the American Heritage dictionary recently compiled a list of "100 words they recommend every high school graduate should know."I always like to check out lists like this, and see how many of the entries I am already familiar with. The answer is, invariably, "nearly all of them." Not because I have a stellar vocabulary, but because I cheat.
Not on purpose, of course. But, when performing this exercise, I'm always struck with "well that's what I meant" syndrome. You know how it goes. You see the word, you say to yourself "that means X," you check the definition, and when it turns out that it actually meant Y, you say, "ah, well, that's I meant. And, jeeze, X and Y are practically the same thing ... so, I'm going to give myself this one." By the time I'm done, I have magnanimously "given" myself all of them, and have no idea how many I actually knew before I started.
So this time I tried something new: I wrote down my definitions first, and then compared them to the actual definitions afterwards. (and then he wrote a cool utility so we could do it, too)
from Defective Yeti
I also usually give myself more points than I deserve by saying "sure, that's it". It was fun to have the quiz keep me honest. I find it is so interesting how contextual my knowledge is. I have learned most of my vocabulary through reading, where I can get the "gist" of a word without understanding it completely. Or, apparently, with gathering the opposite meaning. The acquisition of language is fascinating to me.
Here is the overview of my results:
I knew the words in green; I did not know the words in red. In total, I knew 20 of 25.
Details of my results are after the jump...
| Word | My Definition | Actual Definition | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| abjure | to remove from the rule of law | 1. To recant solemnly; renounce or repudiate. 2. To renounce under oath; forswear. | I pulled this def out of my hat |
| abrogate | to remove from a group (opposite of aggregate) | To abolish, do away with, or annul, especially by authority. | nope |
| antebellum | before the Civil War | Belonging to the period before a war, especially the American Civil War. | yay! the only way I've ever heard this used is "Antebellum South" |
| belie | betray; undermine; contradict | 1. To give a false representation to; misrepresent. 2. To show to be false; contradict: | a favorite word of mine |
| bellicose | angry, simmering; not yelling, but stewing | Warlike or hostile in manner or temperament. | |
| circumlocution | movement, especially in a circle | 1. The use of unnecessarily wordy and indirect language. 2. Evasion in speech or writing. 3. A roundabout expression. | I actually knew this, but had a brain relapse. Really! |
| circumnavigate | travel around something (usually the globe) | 1. To proceed completely around. 2. To go around; circumvent. | |
| deciduous | a tree which loses its leaves in the fall and then grows new in the spring | 1. Falling off or shed at a specific season or stage of growth. 2. Shedding or losing foliage at the end of the growing season. 3. Not lasting; ephemeral. | |
| enervate | energize - give energy to | 1. To weaken or destroy the strength or vitality of. | Oops - I had totally the opposite idea |
| epiphany | amazing realization | 1. A revelatory manifestation of a divine being. 2. A sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something. 3. A comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realization. | |
| facetious | like sarcasm, but with more snobbery | Playfully jocular; humorous. | I'm giving it to myself, but you can disagree |
| feckless | reckless | 1. Lacking purpose or vitality; feeble or ineffective. 2. Careless and irresponsible. | but I missed the youthful nuances of the word |
| hypotenuse | long side of a right triangle (the one whose adjacent angles are both 45 degrees | The hypotenuse of a right triangle is the triangle's longest side; the side opposite the right angle. | I actually remembered SOMETHING from Geometry |
| lugubrious | slow, wearing, hard to carry or do | Mournful, dismal, or gloomy, especially to an exaggerated or ludicrous degree. | I'm giving this to myself - it was the right emotion I expressed, but I applied it to an object instead. Feel free to disagree. |
| mitosis | cell reproduction and division (somatic cells only) | 1. A process that takes place in the nucleus of a dividing cell, involves typically a series of steps consisting of prophase, metaphase, anaphase, and telophase, and results in the formation of two new nuclei each having the same number of chromosomes as the parent nucleus; 2. Cell division in which mitosis occurs. | Random fact: this process in gametes (sex cells e.g. sperm and eggs) is called meosis and undergoes a slightly different process, leaving a haploid cell (cell with 1/2 the chromosomes of the parent cell). that's how we get genetic dispersion! yes, I'm a nerd. |
| nihilism | belief that nothing matters; we're all doomed, so what? | 1. An extreme form of skepticism that denies all existence. 2. A doctrine holding that all values are baseless and that nothing can be known or communicated. 3. Rejection of all distinctions in moral or religious value and a willingness to repudiate all previous theories of morality or religious belief. 4. The belief that destruction of existing political or social institutions is necessary for future improvement. 5. A diffuse, revolutionary movement of mid 19th-century Russia that scorned authority and tradition and believed in reason, materialism, and radical change in society and government through terrorism and assassination. | Who cares if I got this one right? |
| omnipotent | all-powerful | Having unlimited or universal power, authority, or force; all-powerful. | a basic Sunday school word. Also, quite useful in describing Dick Cheney |
| paradigm | way of seeing things; avenue of thought | 1. One that serves as a pattern or model. 2. A set or list of all the inflectional forms of a word or of one of its grammatical categories: the paradigm of an irregular verb. 3. A set of assumptions, concepts, values, and practices that constitutes a way of viewing reality for the community that shares them, especially in an intellectual discipline. | According to my paradigm, I'm gonna give myself a "yes" here |
| reparation | the making of amends in a tangible, often monetary, form | 1. The act or process of repairing or the condition of being repaired. 2. The act or process of making amends; expiation. 3. Something done or paid to compensate or make amends. 4. Compensation or remuneration required from a defeated nation as indemnity for damage or injury during a war. | |
| soliloquy | long speech where one is not addressing anyone else, or is addressing a rhetorical person | 1. A dramatic or literary form of discourse in which a character talks to himself or herself or reveals his or her thoughts without addressing a listener. 2. A specific speech or piece of writing in this form of discourse. 3. The act of speaking to oneself. | I'm not talking to myself, I'm soliliquizing! |
| subjugate | put under authority | 1. To bring under control; conquer. 2. To make subservient; enslave. | Too bad I can't subjugate the weeds in my yard |
| suffragist | someone who wants or works for the right to vote | An advocate of the extension of political voting rights, especially to women. | have you seen Mary Poppins? |
| tautology | one's set of beliefs that guide their actions; their moral rules | 1. Needless repetition of the same sense in different words; redundancy. 2. An instance of such repetition. 3. An empty or vacuous statement composed of simpler statements in a fashion that makes it logically true whether the simpler statements are factually true or false; for example, the statement" Either it will rain tomorrow or it will not rain tomorrow." | Totally missed this one. Like this word, but keep forgetting the definition. Maybe it will stick now. |
| vortex | swirling center of a whirlpool, or the middle of a black hole - the center of many fascinating principles of physics | 1. A spiral motion of fluid within a limited area, especially a whirling mass of water or air that sucks everything near it toward its center. 2. A place or situation regarded as drawing into its center all that surrounds it. | With the grades I got in physics, I'm gonna take this as a resounding "yes" |
| winnow | to sort and pare down | 1. To separate the chaff from (grain) by means of a current of air. 2. To rid of undesirable parts. 3. To blow (chaff) off or away. 4. To blow away; scatter. 5. To blow on; fan: a breeze winnowing the tall grass. 6. To examine closely in order to separate the good from the bad; sift. 7. To separate or get rid of (an undesirable part); eliminate: winnowing out the errors in logic. 8. To sort or select (a desirable part); extract. | A process I need to do more of in my life. |
Other days I wonder what the heck I am doing here. Why did I think I could do this? I have no insight, no knack for description, no poignant pen for truth-telling.
I’ve been reading. Sometimes I need to replenish myself with other people’s words. I need to retreat to my love of writing and books. Somehow, that’s not feeling like enough right now. But it has been helpful to drink in the carefully crafted sentences and plotlines of some masters of the craft.
Nothing feels quite right. Environmentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally… I know it will sort out and sift into the right drawers, compartmented and keepsaked in the silverware drawer of my mind.
At least I have learned one thing: to be patient. I will wait upon myself and wait upon the Lord. In his timing, things will be more clear.
from Essential Espresso
I brought Lazarus IV up to my parents' beach house for the week, so that I could make espresso for all without indulging in the time-consuming and expensive habit of driving into town for my daily jolt.
After my dad's second doppio (with some awesome crema), he struck up a conversation with me about my machine. I told him that I was on my 4th one (thanks, Shona!) and was saving for my dream machine. I also added a lot of blah-blah-brass-boiler-and-grouphead-and-holding-the-steam-pressure-and-
Italian-construction-blah-blah (he reads Tom Clancy, so I figured he liked ODing on technical details). He asked how much I had saved, and I told him I had $220 banked toward this dreamy purchase (including $125 I earned doing market research with HOMEWORK). He then wrote me a check for the balance of what I needed and encouraged me to go order it. Um, OK. Thanks, Dad!
The price had gone up $65 just in the two months I've been saving, but since the old price was still on one place on their website, the gracious folks at Essential Espresso gave it to me for $840.
That was a totally unexpected bonus (it reminded me a bit of the time I saved $40 toward a $100 boom box in junior high that Dad paid the balance of). I'm eager to get my new machine! Here's to some espresso bellisimo!
I wrote another essay for my church's eNewsletter. You may recognize some bits and pieces of it from two previous posts. As always, what I ended up writing is not necessarily what I sat down to write. That is the amazing thing about the writing process. I truly feel the Spirit working through me. I am blessed and honored to have a venue in which to share this writing.
Love, Chronic Pain, and Toothpaste
"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." (John 3:34-35 NIV)
I have fibromyalgia. This is a fancy-schmancy medical-ese way of saying that on any given day, I hurt all over. Sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but every day I’m in some sort of pain. It is mainly concentrated around my hips, but spreads throughout my entire body and is frequently accompanied by overwhelming fatigue. One current theory is that although FM is not necessarily caused by a traumatic injury or motor vehicle accident, such events can bring out FM. I was in a serious car accident in 1991. The lap belt saved my life, but did lifelong tissue damage and since then I have been in pain every day.
I am in the midst of deep processing about how much this chronic pain affects my life. For years, I would just push on through and catch up on the weekends by sleeping constantly. I convinced myself I had no life because I was a teacher, and teachers' work never ends (poor me). I told myself I was overwhelmed because starting up a new church was Hard Work, and I had to do so much to make myself feel valuable. I would snap at my husband, screaming under the weight of everything I had to do.
The reality was that I was pushing my body to the limit and beyond each and every day. Instead of feeling these limitations, embracing them, and learning from them, I continued to destroy my body and relationships by living in denial and lashing out at myself and those closest to me. I was screaming under the weight of trying to appear perfect and therefore prove there was nothing wrong with me (or with my faith).
Somehow I bought into the idea that I had to appear to have it all together in order to show (prove?) my faith. I thought the only way I had value to anyone was to be perfect.
But Jesus doesn’t say “You’ll show everyone how great I am by how great and put-together YOU are.” He says, "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." (John 3:34-35)
Keith Ferrin sent me a link to a webpage of great quotes from the late Mike Yaconelli. Two of the quotes have particularly resonated with me as I have been wrestling with the realities of my pain issues:
“We're attempting to convince the world how good Jesus is by how great we are. This is precisely how Madison Avenue sells toothpaste, automobiles, and underwear. People don't need any more images of success, wealth, and power; they're surrounded already. What they need are their sins forgiven. What they need is healing. What they need is love.”And
“I am beginning to understand that faith is not the way around pain, it is the way through pain. Faith doesn't get rid of the opposition, it invites it over for dinner. Faith doesn't give you the winning point at the last second, it ties the game and sends you into overtime. Faith doesn't give you the solution, it forces you to find it.”
I have spent my life trying to be Superwoman and then Supermom and sometimes SuperChristian. Why? Because I bought into the lie that if I'm a Christian, things should always be going right. I'm not sure where we got that idea. Certainly not from the book of 1st Peter (“Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you.” 1 Peter 4:12)
I think this has also been a big factor in processing my pain issues. If I'm a Christian, I shouldn't be in pain, right? This has been said to me as directly as "Your pain is a result of some unrepented sin in your life" and as subtly as "If you had faith, you would be healed” (implying that “healing prayer” hadn’t worked because of some deficiency in me.) These statements roll around in my head, wearing their familiar grooves along my long-traveled pathways of thought.
I believe God can do miracles - I believe he can heal.
He has not healed my physical body.
How can both statements be true? I don't know - I may spend a lifetime "finding the solution" to this dilemma. Jesus has healed and changed many painful things in my life. I have seen and felt Him at work in me, softening my rough edges, gently showing me things I need to change, and redeeming my heart - making me believe - slowly, slowly - that He loves me so fully. The more I feel the love, the more entranced I am by Him. I have come to believe that I may actually be lovable after all. Perhaps I could never come to know this if I were able to be "Superwoman" and sell Jesus like he were toothpaste. Only by being broken could I know how powerful the Healer is.
Life is a struggle. My life may be messier than most, but honestly, I doubt it. We each have our own basket of expectations, disappointments, struggles, and challenges. I have pain, frustrations, difficult babies, and financial realities. Following Jesus doesn't make all these things go away. Instead, I am learning how to forge forward, slogging through the muck of my life, holding firmly to Grace. This is Real. This is where I meet Jesus and where I find love and purpose and hope in the journey.
They will know we are Christians by our Love, not our so-called Got-It-Together-ness. The world sees through our façade. People want to see God’s love. That’s what each one of us needs most of all.
