My Beloved Books

I recently participated in a swap on Swap-bot to decorate my partners' profiles with pictures of the covers of some of my favorite books. These are scans of my personal books. They are my three most beloved books.

Anne of Green Gables, by L.M. Montgomery*

This was a gift around 1986. I fell in love with it - and Anne - in the first reading. My younger daughter's middle name is Anne, after Anne Shirley.

A Separate Peace, by John Knowles*

This was required reading in high school in the early 1990s. The book was used when I acquired it, and the cover is no longer attached to the book. I really related to the main character and enjoyed the book. Our teacher told us to reread it when we turned 30, so I wrote a note to myself inside the cover. I reread it at 31 and found that I related to it on a whole different level and still thoroughly enjoyed it. I plan on rereading it at 40 and every subsequent 10 years.

Mists of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley*

I discovered this book in high school while working in the school library in the early 1990s. I spent a weekend engrossed in the world and stories in its 876 pages. A few years ago, I learned that the very book I read twice and loved was still in my old high school library and the librarian (the same one I worked for as a student) very graciously sold the book to me. Sadly, a paperback cover has been copiously taped to the front and back of the beautiful hardcover, presumably after it sustained damage. I haven't been brave enough to try to remove it for fear of further damaging the book.

*affiliate link

A Life With OCD

I live with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, often referred to as OCD. You usually hear "OCD" combined with laughter as someone uses it to describe someone that has shown a preference for things to be just so. As someone that is truly diagnosed with OCD, I find those instances belittling and insulting. If people understood what OCD is really like, they wouldn't find it funny at all. In A bit like that? Combatting the myth about OCD, Dr. Stephanie Fitzgerald says

"I wonder whether these people would still be keen to say they are a bit like that if they truly understood OCD? If by saying ‘Oh, I’m a bit like that’ they knew they were admitting to thoughts of harming a loved one, anxiety about driving because they believed they had run someone over, or harbouring such fears about contamination that they would be unable to hug their own child?" [emphasis mine]

I want to help end the myths about OCD, and to end the stigma of mental illness. It really is not something that we can turn off at will. Believe me, if I could turn it off, I would in a heartbeat. This is the best explanation of OCD that I've found. I can share some of what it looks like in my head, but this is the best explanation I've found of the overall landscape of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

I am in the ruminations/intrusive thoughts category. The stress and anxiety caused by intrusive thoughts are deep. It has taken years for me to learn that the intrusive thoughts are not secret fantasies that make me a horrible person. It's more like being forced to watch a disturbing movie. I live huge swathes of time via movies in my head that I can't stop, often in just seconds. It has led to a lifetime of soul-crushing guilt, and paralyzing fear and doubt.

I remember one of my first instances of intrusive thoughts vividly because it was so disturbing to me. I was going to the local senior center with my maternal grandmother. I had just finished washing the dishes and was taking a handful of sharp knives to the kitchen from the industrial washroom. I passed my grandmother, and in that split second, my mind flashed through a scene of my body running the knives into her stomach, taking them out, and repeating the action several times like a robot while my mind screamed ineffectively to stop my body and my eyes watched in helpless horror.

That was over 20 years ago.

My Meme

Few people have heard the story because I always believed I was a horrible person for even being capable of having those thoughts.  I love my Meme. She has been an integral part of my development as a person. So much of my pride-of-heritage, identity, and practical knowledge stem from that beloved woman that now runs a senior center at the age of 83. I always questioned if some dark, recessed part of my mind was really this murderous psychopath just waiting to spring out. To this day, the memory of that thought riddles me with guilt and fear.

Knives are still a trigger for me if I'm not vigilant. I have fought my mind through such innocuous things as changing my baby's diaper, picking up my kids from a babysitter, and driving over a small bridge. Being a mom with OCD is fraught with fear and guilt. I couldn't tell you the times I've suddenly clutched one of my confused children to me - tears threatening, or even overflowing - to banish some intrusive thought that struck my heart with fear and self-loathing.

Now before you tell me it would go away if I just prayed more, or read my Bible more, or if I were really a Christian (yes, all things that have been said to me), you must know that I prayed, pleaded, cried out to God to take away these attacks from the devil for years before I sought medical treatment. I sang hymns when they came; I went forward for special prayer at every opportunity at any church I attended; I was anointed with oil; hands were laid on me; I was prayed over specifically; I sat, naked and sobbing in the shower, begging God to release me for uncountable hours. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder is not something that can just be prayed away. To tell someone with OCD that they simply aren't Christian enough is to pour salt into a gaping wound.

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder isn't a personality quirk, positive life choice to indicate tidiness, spiritual lacking, or joke. It is a real disease. Please treat it and its sufferers with sincerity and compassion.

NaBloPoMo: Most like myself

the last time I got to dress up as
The Cat in the Hat - March 2012

When or where do you feel most like yourself?

Ai. Um. What if I'm not sure what myself feels like?

Okay, I lie. Well, not lie, but myself is several selves, I think. I feel equally comfortable talking to my Girl Scout group or chatting with mom friends. Discussing Shakespeare is as satisfying to me as reading Dr. Seuss to children.

I feel like a nut.

I suppose you could say that I am most like myself whenever and wherever I am connecting with someone and expressing myself. I am a connector, I think. I seek that lightbulb moment when eyes light up and someone says or thinks "Yes! You get it!" To be understood - felt, validated - is so important in life. Hearing "I see you" like in Avatar. I see you. I see your heart. I see your past. I see your intentions. I see your fears. I see you.

I think expressing myself, whether through talking, writing, or acting, is a big part of connectedness for me. How can I connect with you if I don't show you some part of myself? Vulnerability is a prerequisite of connection. But it takes courage to be vulnerable. What if I'm laughed at? Scorned? Misunderstood? It's a huge risk.

But oh, the payoff when that connection happens!

And that moment, that place. That is me.

NaBloPoMo: Your writing voice

How is your writing voice like you? How does your writing voice differ from you?

When given creative license, my writing voice is much like my conversation. My blogging - indeed,  the majority of my writing - is intended as a conversation between me and my readers. It is full of half-formed sentences, broken thoughts, opinions, bunny-trails, and questions.

When writing as a professional, my voice is all properness. (Yeah, properness probably isn't a word, but this is me writing, not me writing professionally, so I get to use it. I'm channeling Seuss today, so there.) Proper grammar and sentence structure are used, and all that schooling comes into play. I'm capable of those things; I just prefer not to use them in daily life.

NaBloPoMo: Tell us five interesting things about yourself.

Me in December of 2013

I'm incredibly transparent, so there's not really anything about me that somebody doesn't already know. I think I've told all of my stories. Somehow, though, I feel very uninteresting and don't know why I blather.

1. I have a large birthmark on my back between my should blades. It is very faint, though, and I didn't discover it until I was in college and had been tanning. I also have a small one on my right bicep. When I ever get the courage and money to get a tattoo, I want it to be slightly darker than my skin tone so it looks like a birthmark.
2. I've had unexplained joint pain since I was a toddler. Episodes involve every joint in the affected limb. The joints do not swell, and cold exacerbates it. I never know which limb will be affected in an episode until it hits, and it sometimes travels from one limb to another during an episode. I've been tested for all the arthritic and rheumatic illnesses and have come up negative for all of them.
3. I was in a pageant in high school. It was for Miss Mineola. I placed third out of seven girls. My favorite memory is singing "Pharaoh, Pharaoh" backstage to get us to smile big just before we walked out on stage. I hate looking at pictures of me from it because my blush was a disastrous racing-stripe effect on my cheeks. I loved my dress, though, and still have it.
4. I've been referred to as a walking encyclopedia, dictionary, and reference. My brain is full of useless historical and linguistic trivia. I've been known to read the dictionary for fun, and I like to study etymology. I've read the majority of Shakespeare's plays - although I refuse to read Titus Andronicus - and the majority (if not all - I can't remember at the moment) of his sonnets. I was an avid reader in my youth, and actually enjoyed most of the required reading in school. I loathed The Old Man and the Sea; The Grapes of Wrath is an exercise in verbosity. I recommend reading A Separate Peace every ten years, beginning in high school and commencing ten-year intervals at 30.
5. I've breastfed children for 5 years and 5 months of my life. Brandon was four months exclusively and supplemented for an additional five. Sarah and Bethany were 13 and 15 months, respectively, and Sam was 28 months. My goal with Brandon was 12 months. I was devastated when he weaned himself at 9 months. My goal was 18 months with the last three. Breastfeeding my children is one of the things that make me the most proud.

NaBloPoMo or, I'm feeling delusionally ambitious

So NaNoWriMo is really inspiring to me and I'm awed by my friends that participate (I'm looking at you, Beanses). I've written a lot of words in my time. I've even been paid for the words I've written. Not so much recently. I've always felt a pride being able to say I'm a writer, but these days I feel like a liar when I say it.

So I just saw something about NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posting Month. I fully understand the concept of do [your chosen vocation] everyday. I even subscribe to The One-Minute Writer. I even read the posts when they come in my inbox. Then I delete them without acting on them, because "I just don't have the time." I know: it's one minute, eejit! I'm just consistently inconsistent. And depressed. And tired. And a mom to a toddler. And, and, and. Ugh.

The theme for this month is self. Seriously, Universe? This is the time you choose to reveal this to me? I know. It's like Idris. "...I always took you where you needed to go." Okay, okay.

Blahblahblah. I'm going to attempt. Yikes.

So, catching up. Weekdays have prompts (see them here). Weekends are for free writing, so I'll use the OMW prompts then.

March 1:
Today's Writing Prompt: So What Do You Do?
What do you spend most of your time doing - when you're not writing, of course!

I spend most of my time chasing Sam or chauffeuring the top 3. Generally avoiding housework. Trying to figure out when I can go back to bed. Crocheting. Feeling like a failure. As a wife, mom, housekeeper, person. You know, the same as everybody else.

March 2:
Today's Writing Prompt: Delayed Gratification
What's something good in your life you've had to wait for in order to have?

The biggest thing was kids. We tried for two-and-a-half years to get pregnant with our first child. I thought I was barren. We were discussing if we wanted to get testing done to find out what was going on with whom, if we wanted to foster or adopt, or just get a dog. I remember feeling like that Biblical woman whose name escapes me at the moment.

If only I had known then that the heartbreak I felt then at thinking I was barren and wouldn't have children would feel like a pinprick compared to the daily heartbreak I feel looking at my four children and worrying about their futures. Don't get me wrong. My kids are a good thing. But they are also a hard thing. The days are long; the years are short.

On some completely unrelated notes: Happy Seussday and Texas Independence Day!

I love you

I can't put into words why I love you.
I just know that I do.
I know you don't deserve it,
but I love you anyway.
I know the real you -
the you that babies and animals see.
The you that makes the babies stare and the animals nuzzle.
They and I see and know the real you,
the lovable you,
the you that you feel is lost.
But I see you hiding in there,
and I love you.

Counting List

ASL number signs

I've been prompted to write a list or to discuss what kinds of things I count. So I'm making a list of things that I count. I tend to be a counter anyway and find that I count things without thinking, but here are a few things that I'm conscious of counting.

1. crochet stitches - I count stitches when I start any project, but making hats especially turns me into a counting nut.
2. train cars (though I'm trying to stop myself from doing that because it makes me woozy)
3. tea bags - gotta have my tea!
4. I joked with someone yesterday that I ought to start counting my kids like teachers do to make sure I've got them all!
5. e-mails - I find myself fascinated with how many e-mails I automatically delete. I'm working on unsubscribing from those that I usually delete, so hopefully I'll stop counting that soon.

So here's another list:

• Are you a counter? 
• What do you find yourself counting without thinking? 
• If you have a counting habit, does your counting habit bother you?

And just in case you're not thoroughly convinced I'm a complete loon, here's one of my favorite childhood songs:

Doth Mine Eyes Deceive Me?

Bang head here.

No, they don't.

I wanted to add a graphic in the sidebar. I thought, "That's a lot of code for a linked graphic, and I don't recognize that tag."

Did that stop me from adding it anyway?

No, it didn't.

Did my blind eye stop all the text widgets from disappearing?

No, it didn't.

Michael uploaded yesterday's back-ups in an attempt to fix what I screwed up. Then all the tweaks I'd done disappeared. Neither of us had any idea that would happen. Did that stop me from shedding a few tears (quietly, so Michael wouldn't know and be even more upset)?

No, it didn't.

I looked around at other themes. I even tried a few out. I didn't like any of them, so I went back to the one I had before and began the arduous task of redoing all the tweaks and widgets. I even created a new, subtler, greener plaid background for the content, and finally discovered a hack to get the sidebar like I want it. So all in all, the ol' stairs benefited from the fiasco.

I have to take the kids to school, drop Michael off at the doctor, take Bethy to Playschool, pick Michael up, take Michael home, pick Bethy up, meet someone to get an ad for the MOPS newsletter, do the MOPS newsletter, and prepare the craft project supplies for the MOPS meeting on Wednesday morning. Did that stop me from staying up all night getting the site just the way I wanted it?

No, it didn't.

Welcome to OCD.

Winter's Magic

Winter Fairy by *Cocodrillo at Deviant Art

Every year during the holidays, a night creeps up on me when I become pensive and sad, remembering winters past. For some reason, all my young misadventures occurred during the cold times. I was a very imaginative and moody child, being easily swept up in dreams of magic and fantasies of love, romance, and things eternal. As an adult now, I see them for the follies they were, but one night a year, I remember back to the days when my biggest dilemma was how to show that year's beau "how I loved him so." To embrace those times as the important things they were to me then, savor them, then let them go for another year...
 


heady days and nights

shivering in the cold but not noticing for the overwhelming infatuation

kisses and more kept us warm

i remember the most magical times were in winter

being found, being held, the candle's glow

music filling my ears, your smell in my nostrils, your whispers in my ears

your arms around me

nights spent in a world of magic

days spent in reverie

cares and reality floated by

oh, for days when winter's magic

washed o'er me

Sponsor Christmas for a Needy Child for Only Seven Dollars

[caption id="attachment_3107" align="alignleft" width="226" caption="The power of a simple gift."]

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Want to make a child's Christmas? Donate just $7 to cover shipping for an Operation Christmas Child shoebox and a needy child will receive a box full of love and fun for Christmas!

Please note: I am not a 501(c)3 organization, so unfortunately, your donation will not be tax-deductible. Thank you so much for your dedication and commitment to bringing Christmas joy to children without thought of monetary benefit.

Whispering Sweet Everythings

[caption id="attachment_3107" align="alignleft" width="226" caption="The power of a simple gift."]

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To start at the beginning, I went to a women's convention three weeks ago. Our armbands said, "A Ministry for Every Woman" on them and it was mentioned to find the ministry God has for you. I determined not to take my armband off until God told me what He wants me to do or it came off by itself.

I've been a bit fanatic about Operation Christmas Child for several years and tonight as I watched the promotional videos to pick one to show at church, I felt a little whisper in my heart. I could picture myself going around speaking about it and even flying overseas to deliver boxes.

See, I've wanted to be a speaker for a while now. I just never could figure out what I was supposed to say. And as for flying - I'm terrified of it. The thought of getting on a plane paralyzes me and makes my breath and my heart catch in my throat. But tonight as I watched the videos, I thought with excitement and anticipation how much I'd love to be right there watching children open their boxes. The thought of flying didn't scare me - I was excited! That in itself seems to be a pretty big indicator to me.

As exciting and thrilling as all of it seems, though, I'm not taking my armband off yet. I'm an emotional person and I don't want to mistake my own emotions and ambitions for God's will. So, I'm going to pray and wait for confirmation.

In the stillness of quiet, in the hustle of noise, I want to hear my Bridegroom whisper His sweet everythings to my heart and know what the journey He's mapped out for us together will be.

For such a time as this

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MckMama over at My Charming Kids asked how everyone's day went yesterday and how today is going so far. Well, to be honest, yesterday was stressful. And so was this morning. And it's going to be stressful this afternoon.

Yesterday I carried Bethy into school because she didn't want to go to "sister's school." I held my breath as she walked into her class. Then I took paperwork to the local Christian playschool to enrolll her there. I trusted that God made me her mommy because He'll tell me what's best for her.

Today, I'm bracing myself for the discouragement I'll face this afternoon when I withdraw her from school. But I'm still trusting that God made me her mommy for this.

So it's going to be okay.

"...And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?"

Esther 4:14 ESV

Not Me Monday

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[/caption]Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week. As for me, I've been a darling angel, of course.

1. I didn't yell at my kids.

2. I didn't roll my eyes at anyone.

3. I didn't let my kids have marshmallow cereal for dinner.

4. I didn't wish I could just stay home from church.

5. I didn't want to make accusations when Mom's headlight got broken at church.

6. I didn't have what seemed like a big, continuous, several-day row with my husband over Mom's headlight, attitudes, cleanliness, and submission.

7. And I most certainly didn't get sopping wet from the knees down walking the girls in to school this morning in the rain.

See? Perfectly, perfect, what with my seven examples of perfection and non-erring ways.

And now to think of Mary Poppins all day while hoping I don't get struck by lightning...

Welcome to the Twilight Zone

Update:

After switching to a new theme with a bajillion options (thanks for the tip, Alex!), I'm mostly happy with the site. Please leave a comment and let me know if anything looks wonky, ugly, or just plain "not right" to you.

Or if it's the most fantabulous plaid blog you've ever seen!

No, you're not going crazy. I'm screwin' around with the site coding and themes again. I'll post when I'm done messin' stuff up.

Enjoy the show!

While I'm Waiting

As my Twitter followers know, I've begun the Love Dare Bible Study recently. Michael and I watched the movie "Fireproof" several weeks ago, then the study group watched the movie last week to begin the study. Before I ever even saw the movie, I was caught by this song. Tonight on my way home, I was thinking about my life, my marriage, the movie, the study, everything. And I've come to a decision.

I am making this song my theme song for this season of my life.

It will encourage me.
It will hold me accountable.
It will remind me that there is something and Someone beyond what I see and feel in the moment.
It will remind me what to do when I don't know what to do.
It will remind me where to go when I don't know where to go.
God will bring me home and bring me through with this song.

Amen.


http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/i6X71sXagUY&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999

Daily Blatherings

Update:
I found daily posts to be too much, so I've changed it to weekly posts and hidden all the daily posts so they don't clog up the archives.

I found a neat plugin called Twitter Tools that posts a digest of your tweets on your blog. I thought this would be a good idea for several reasons.

1. I'm always trying to figure out how to post more often.



2. I have trouble figuring out what to write about, or forget what I wanted to mention on my blog, or it's not a big enough post.



3. I want you guys to see more of who I am on a day-to-day basis and what is important to me.

Each night at 11:59, there'll be an automatic post of all my Tweets for the day. I'm hoping they'll help me reach the goals listed above.

Life makes beggars of us all

So I went out to put my youngest in the car to take her to an appointment this morning, but turned right back around and came into the house. Why?

Bald tires.

Yeah, they've been bald for awhile. I've stupidly continued to drive on them while trying to save up the money to get new ones. Today the front passenger tire finally decided to show its metal skivvies.

I have officially been parked.

That's where you come in. I need to replace all four tires. The cost for that is almost as much as my rent, but the landlord kind of wants his money, so the money had to go to that. I've decided it's time to swallow my pride and ask for help from my friends. Thanks to the Interwebs and ChipIn.com, though, I can reach out to all you, my wonderful friends and readers.

Every single dollar is incredibly appreciated.


http://widget.chipin.com/widget/id/68431407bb94b03b

Apron Porn - But Not *That* Kind!

As promised, here's a picture of me celebrating Wear Your Apron Day:

Please ignore the ridiculous face I'm making. I almost edited it out, but headless pictures give me the willies. Michael cracked some joke just as he was snapping the picture, to which I (appropriately) cracked up.

Anyway, back to the apron:

I got it on eBay a year or two ago and I love it. The fabric isn't Mary Engelbreit, but it certainly has an ME-esque feel to it. Throw in the fact that the binding is plaid, and I'm all over it. Green plaid, to be exact. Oh, aprony heaven! The straps criss-cross over the back, so there's no tugging on my neck. Another great benefit to that is that my rear is covered, which is awesome, because I have a tendency to wipe my hands off on my hips as I'm cooking and most aprons don't cover far enough back were I "clean myself." Don't let your brain go too far on that one - it's a scary, scary place.

So yes, I have an apron, and I wear it. Frequently. And in public, even. And you know what? I don't care if anybody looks at me funny, or points, or even laughs. Know why? Cuz it makes me happy.

And that's all that matters.

Unleash Your Inner Susan Boyle

I've been horribly depressed for days now. Today, I saw something that made me smile, made me cry, made my heart jump to my throat and my soul soar. I watched Susan Boyle sing "I Dreamed a Dream."

I want so badly to embed it for you, but I can't find an embeddable copy of the video since it's from television. Do yourself (and your soul) a favor: go watch Susan Boyle sing.

Update: I found an embeddable version!

http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x8ymn0_susan-boyle-on-britains-got-talent&related=1
Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent
Uploaded by dwarthy

If you've ever felt disappointed by your life; if you've ever loved; if you've ever been hurt; if you've ever lived, you will be touched by this song.

More importantly, I think you'll be inspired. Just because you haven't got the looks of a model doesn't mean you're invisible. It doesn't mean you don't have anything to offer the world. Take a cue from Susan Boyle - put on your fancies, get cheeky, and go after your dream!