Something funny for the weekend: Conrad

A few months ago while we were driving, Dan and I were having a conversation, I can’t remember what it was about but I think we were on different sides of “the fence”. He had his ideas and I had mine, it must have not been a very important debate because I had not started yelling yet, the true sign of a heated debate. We started joking around about who was the boss and who wears the pants in our family, to which Dan always makes some joke along the lines of “I’ll let you wear the pants, if you let me take them off of you” to which I laugh and roll my eyes. Dan then turns to Conrad who is sitting calmly in his seat behind me. He seemed to be enjoying the ride and the friendly debate going on between his two favorite people. Dan looks at him and asks “Conrad who’s the boss?”, Con looks first at Dan then at me, then back at Dan again. A sly little smile slowly breaks out across his face, he looks at us both and with a now full grin he raises his right arm in the air. The look on his face and his one fully raised arm clearly said “I’m the boss!”. Dan and I got a good laugh to which Conrad responded by raising his hands in the air over and over again. Though this was months ago, still when we ask Con who is boss he quickly responds with that same little smile and one arm fully raised in the air. We love his sense of humor!

The “last” goodbye

I ended up spending this past week in Michigan with my grandma. She lives with my parents and while they were visiting my sister in Mexico, my oldest brothers and I took turns staying with her. She has started to slow down over the past few years but during this visit we all noticed a change in her. She is more forgetful during conversations as you would expect of any 93 year old, her walk has slowed and her hands have started to shake more with each passing month. We each made sure to give her every meal and all of her liquids during the day. Though I was there to “take care” of her, I really enjoyed my time. We talked over breakfast about how well behaved Conrad was, and how we each slept the night before and of our plans for that day. We rested during the afternoon while Con took his nap. A few times I made it out to see my sister in law or made a run to the grocery store. Towards evening I started on our dinner and while we ate she would tell me stories from years past. Some of them I had heard before, some of them were new but both always enjoyable.

My grandma has always been a wonderful storyteller. I remember long road trips with my family, grandma in the front seat next to my mom, her next to my dad, us three younger kids all sitting in the back seat with our dog Kip, all listening intently to her. She would retell whole books that she had read as a child, the titles of which were long forgotten or no longer in print. When I was in my teens she lived with my family in Mexico for a year or two. We would often take a taxi to lunch or a near by mall, she being an artist was always one to stop and enjoy the scenery, even taking photographs of small buildings or women working to make a painting of later. Many of these paintings are hanging in my parents home.

Over the years I have learned so much about her life. Born in 1915 she has lived through both world wars, the depression and many other less noted times. She has out lived my grandpa by over 20 years and buried two of her four children. She has lived a full life and has filled so many others with love and joy. Though she is content with her life ending any day soon, all of her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren feel otherwise.

I remember when I was around 4 years old, I learned about death. I don’t remember what I was told, but I must have summed it up to: old people die. One night my sister and I were sleeping at my grandmas, as she sung us a bedtime song I could hear her breaths get faster, in my small mind I put two and two together. Grandma was old and she was dieing. But she kept on singing, when the song ended she came around, gave us each a kiss and prayed with us. I later learned that old people can also have a heard time breathing, especially when singing goodnight songs at the end of a long day. A few years later when my family moved to Mexico, I remember saying goodbye to her. I held on tight and closed my eyes as tears fell, in my heart I felt it was the last time I would see her alive. Skip ahead years, past many of these “last goodbyes”, past “last” phone calls, each time a thought in the back of my head: “Is this the last time?”. When I lived in Africa I always made sure to have money set aside just in case she took a turn for the worst, I could be home in a days time.

As I have grown older myself and our visits have become more frequent, the thought is still there only it doesn’t hang as heavy. Any visit could be the last so I enjoy each to it’s fullest, which isn’t hard to do when your with MY Grandma. In ways, I have said a “last” goodbye over my lifetime. In a childhood confession I told her that I loved her best out of all grandmas, in letters sent to her from Africa I said I was proud to have her name as my middle name and that I hoped to become the woman that she is. When we chose a girls name during my pregnancy there was no question what her name would be, it’s on hold for the next baby if it’s a girl. In many ways I have left nothing unsaid but in so many others there is still so much to say. She is the one person I would wish to live forever, to be with me over MY lifetime, to walk me through hard times with her wisdom and share with my joy in the good times. Though I may have SAID everything I need to say there are still so many questions I want to ask.

How did she find the strength to have joy after the loss of my grandpa, How did she move on after the deaths of her children, What is it like to be at the ending of your life, to KNOW that your time is soon and that you will meet God, and the usual questions you would ask any great person; what would you do different, what would you do for one day if you could do anything? There is still much about her life that I don’t know, when she tells me a story from her past, it’s like a little nugget of gold that I hold close and treasure forever.

This past week she gave me a bit of a scare when she started to pass out on the way home from the doctor’s office. I somehow kept myself together, though for a minute in the thick of it I thought I felt tears welling up within me. She came back too, but that little scare brought back my childhood realization, the blunt fact that: Old people die, no sugar coating, just the clod hard fact. I guess I will always have that thought in the back of my mind; “Is this the last time”, and I guess I will keep on saying my “last” goodbye hoping with all that I am, that it really isn’t the LAST. Until that last time I will keep on doing my best to show how much she means to me and what a blessing she has always been and still is in so many lives. When that last day comes I hope I find her strength, the same strength that brought her through her losses. I hope as my life moves on from that day, that I will make her proud. Proud that I have learned so much wisdom from her, proud that I am becoming the woman that she is, proud that I have carried her name well.

-Faith Marie

NO

The other day I was looking through a BabiesRus magazine. There was the clothing section, the breastfeeding section, the gear section and then came a rather large section. I don’t know what it’s called but page after page had items to keep children out of things. There were cabinet locks of all sorts, rubber strips to put on the corners of just about anything, baby gates to fit any hall space and my personal favorite, the toilet lock. When my eyes fell on the toilet lock PAGE, I literally rolled my eyes and laughed out laud. Since when did we need a lock for every item in our house? Do people really buy all these items? I will admit that we installed locks on most of our kitchen cabinets a few months ago. I drove myself crazy trying to clean the kitchen and keep Conrad out of trouble at the same time. Having those locks in has made my kitchen cleaning much easier and has forced Conrad to find recreation else where. But looking at the items in that magazine left one thought in my head.

Since when did it become wrong to tell our kids “no”?

Sure most of these things would make life easier and some of them safer too. But whoever said parenting would be easy? Take for instance the toilet lock. It will keep Junior from playing in the “pond”, save you the trouble of cleaning a dirty mess, it’s down side: a hassle every time you need to lift the lid for your own use. But we seem to be missing the main point when it comes to so many of these “handy helpers”. We are missing the opportunity to teach our children to obey, right from wrong, and to listen to Mommy and Daddy. When did it become so bad to use the good old fashioned word NO? To discipline when wrong is being done and to train right behaviors. It seems so many parents opt for the “easy” rout and avoid all correction when possible. It makes me think this form of parenting only eases the load of the parents, not the child. When children are seldom told NO, what happens when they grow up a little and go to school. Their teacher is certain to tell them no about something, how will they react to this. Some parents chose to home school, so what happens when these children grow up and move out. This world is certainly not a “yes” world, how will your child handle this “rejection”? Now that I think about it, NO is not always rejection but sometimes REDIRECTION. It makes me wonder how a child who is not told NO from a young age will cope and accept this word. It makes more sense to train a child than to redirect them or distract them. In the short it might be far easier to do these than to discipline, but raising a child is no short term deal. We have to see ahead to the future of our children. Maybe this is old school parenting but whats so wrong with that? It seems to me the generations before mine were far better off than this generation of self centered, short sighted, spoiled brats. I’m not saying that toilet locks and baby gates are bad, just in moderation.

So what really is so wrong with saying NO?

Little boy

Con has lost his baby look. At some point during the last two weeks it vanished. Though he is still MY baby, he is no longer a baby. He has become a little boy. Full of boy curiosity and vigor, Full of mischief and games. No longer is he content to sit and be read to, instead he must be involved in first choosing the book that he wants, then holding it and turning clumps of pages at a time while he “reads” to me. No longer is he content to watch just any show on TV, if HIS show is not on he quickly brings the remote to me and asks ever so politely “Me” thats for Mickey, if that does not do the trick he holds it with arms stretched out and says “peees” for please. He loves to scoot down the stairs and climbs up them before we even know he wanted to go up. In the car he wants HIS music on, and mind you it’s none of that “put you to sleep baby crap”, it has to be something to bang his head to and move his body with. He loves balls, he “talks” about balls all day mostly saying “ball” and pointing to anything that looks remotely like a ball. If he sees the Cubs or Bears logo on anything he goes into “excited overdrive”. He could spot a ball from a mile away and not give you any rest till he has it in his hands. He is loving and caring to other kids and is even willing to share his beloved toys with others, a true sign of maturity. He would rather help me push his stroller than ride in it, and at the park he likes to watch older kids play ball. He says “weee” as he goes down the slides. He knows what food he likes and somehow without even tasting others, “knows” he doesn’t like them. Along with all of this came a strong will and determination resulting in tantrums and meltdowns.  Yes these are all signs of a little boy no longer a baby. But what made it ever so clear, was the look in his eyes, the expression on his face. There is a knowing deep within his eyes, I know he is thinking and processing things as a little boy, things that he didn’t understand just weeks before. When I realized this for the first time the other day, I wasn’t sad. Yes I will miss our baby moments, mostly at night when he used to cuddle and let me rock him and sing to him peacefully. Instead I am enjoying our new nightly routine, where he helps me dress him in his jammies, and “asks” for the Jesus book by saying “Jeees”, and plays with my face and looks in my eyes while I sing our songs. He even refuses his “passie” unless he is in bed and he MUST have his “snuggly” blanket to sleep. I cant say when exactly he became a little boy or what it was that brought him out of babyhood. Though it is clear he is no longer a baby, it is even more clear: he will always be MY baby.

Seeing Red

I’m tiRED.

I was trying to take a self picture, ya know one of those really cool ones you see in magazines. (only I think they have professional lights and photographers to do it for them, and makeup artists too.) My eyes are heavy and my makeups worn, not a good mix. So I covered the flash with my thumb so my tiredness wouldn’t show as much. This is what came out. I don’t think it will be in a magazine any time soon. When we left for church this morning I took a quick look in the mirror, I thought I looked pretty good. I guess this is the toll a long day takes on me.

I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.

Funny for the weekend

If Dan and I were born much earlier and met in high school circa 1960.

Us in real life, so much better looking

The real Faith

So my friend Alece, from Gritandglory.com recently wrote a post that really hit home with me. She wrote about being authentic and real. That the Alece you see on her blog is the same Alece you get in her real life. I left a comment letting her know that I appreciate her honesty and how hard it is to find friends who are really authentic and not just putting on a show for the people that are around.

As I thought about this throughout the day I began to wonder which of my friends are truly authentic and real with me. Who of them only show me the side they want me to see, leaving their other sides, maybe less attractive sides at the door. I began to see how people around me show only cretin sides. Like around their Christian friends they are super spiritual but at work they might not even be known as a believer. As I thought about all of my unreal, unauthentic friends ; it hit me like a ton of bricks. It’s me who is unreal and unauthentic! The spotlight was on and it pointed straight at me, it’s bright light showing my flaw. I am guilty of only showing the nice sides of me, keeping the “other” ones hidden for only those closest to see. I realized that only a handful of people really know the real Faith. Dan and some close family members. (I wouldn’t envy them if I were you.) I know that I do this to be liked and excepted. I am one way with a cretin group and another way with others. I am not at all authentic, I put on a show of who I think I should be to become part of the group. Thats not real and it hasn’t lead to deep friendships. What makes me think that being unauthentic will bring me closer to friends when the few people who truly know me are my closest friends.

I tend to show the sides of me that I know people will like and relate to. Such as: I love to have fun, there is nothing business about me. I love to laugh and joke around, I am not very serious unless I need to be. I love being a wife and mother, it’s my dream come true and I think for the most part I do a good job at both. The things I tend to keep to myself but make up a lot of who I am are: (DEEP BREATH) I am not a very good Christian. I love God and know I belong to him and on a cretin level I have a good relationship with Him, but I am not were I should be in my walk with Him. I am not at all spiritual. If someone needs advice, I can only offer reality, not spirituality. I am selfish and spoiled and more like my mother than I want to admit. I have a heart for the world but I don’t see where I fit into the “great commission”. I feel I have let God down by the selfish choices I have made. Is that even possible to let God down, could he really be disappointed in who I have become? I tend to look down on others and see only their flaws, I am quick to judge. I will stop there.

This is the real Faith, it’s not pretty and thats only the tip of the iceberg. Part of me is disappointed in who I am but the other part knows I can change. This is my first attempt to be more real and honest. I am in need of truly authentic friendships and the first step is with me not anyone else.

Picture Post

Top picture: My beautiful little boy is growing up so much lately! He talks, mostly about balls and understands and fallows instructions so well.

Middle pictures:Here is Conrad at his favorite hang out. Every time he goes right for the handicap button to open the door, he does this about a million times, then waves “bye-bye” to so we can go to Starbucks.

Next middle picture: Our family at restaurant, so nice.

Bottom two: Labor Day at grandpa and grandmas house. Con had lots of fun knocking down the blocks that his uncles were building.

When Worlds Collide

When worlds collide. What exactly does that mean? It sounds cool, like something said in a movie preview to capture your attention. Today when I ran into someone, someone who has caused great pain; it felt like just that. World’s colliding.

We saw his truck as we pulled into our favorite hang out, we actually thought about leaving but decided not to let it spoil our night. As we walked into Starbucks they got up to greet us, before I knew it he was hugging me. It felt so awkward, there was so much hurt and pain filled in that embrace. Not at all like they use to be, warm, loving, an older brother protecting his sister. Standing a bit behind him, I saw her. The source for so much of my pain as of late. She smiled awkwardly, and rightfully so. I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes. Instead I glanced her way and gave a sort of half smile. We managed to make small talk for a few minutes, mostly about Conrad. Conrad is always an easy go to in awkward situations. We excused ourselves and ordered our drinks. Dan garbed a table across the shop from theirs, to which I was great full. I sat with my back to them and downed my drink faster that usual. We were heading out the door when somehow we found ourselves back in that awkward conversation, before we knew it we were pulling up chairs to settle in.

As we talked I found myself keeping my eyes mostly on Conrad. I just couldn’t bring myself to look either one of them in the eyes. I cant help but wonder why that is. Is it because I might see myself in them, see the things that make us alike, the things that make us family. No I think it is the pain keeping me and the knowledge that if I look to close I might see a flicker of what use to be there. The love, the bond, the deep friendship. The fear that if I look too close, I will see it’s no longer there. That love has been replaced with emptiness, the bond with hurt, and the friendship with awkwardness.

We continued talking about unimportant things all the while trying to avoid the real issues that lie so think between us. Think: elephant in the room. I noticed how thin he had become since we saw him last and that his hives were back. Things that only a sister might pick up on. In her I noted pain, but I didn’t feel sorry for her. Half the time I wanted to grab them and shake them. Make them understand how wrong and hurtful they have been, not only to the people around them but to themselves as well. The other half the time I wanted to forget the past and begin with a new friendship. But there it was, that hurt and pain. Side by side they stood as if forming a wall between us, keeping us from moving on.

Finally after what seemed like hours, Dan took the lead and said our goodbyes. Another awkward hug, this time I found myself saying “I love you” with it. And it was true, so true. The love that wont seem to go away no mater how much pain I feel. As we walked away I told Dan that it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. In my mind I was telling myself that I would have felt worse to just be cold and walk on by. With every step I could feel the space between our worlds grow deeper and deeper.

The collision now a blurry memory, the pain ever present.

unwind

At the end of my long days what do I do to unwind? I draw a hot bath, grab a well worn copy of one of Jane Austins best and a glass of warm milk. As I slide into the hot soothing water I can feel the stress of the day melt away.

OK OK OK STOP STOP STOP!!!! What is this? A scene from some 1950’s black and white movie called “Perfectville”? Ya that sounds nice but here in West Chicago circa 2008 thats just not right. For one: my bathtub is never clean enough to do anything but shower in. Jane Austin is great for a girls movie night, but just try reading a few pages and you’ll find yourself lost in the language from a bygone era. Oh and the warm milk? Uh, I think I will trade that past time favorite for a Decaf Starbucks.

Ya at the end of my day the best I can do to relax and unwind is negotiate with Dan for the remote or the computer. When Con goes down at 8 pm sharp, it’s officially operation “UNWIND”. While Dan watches some kind of sports show, I watch some unimportant, mildly entertaining, not at all thrilling rerun on the computer. This is sure not to keep me awake past my bed time, but is just interesting enough to keep me “tuning in” week after week. Dan and I usually make small talk during commercials, mostly about our day or plans for the next day.

Sometimes I wish we spent our evenings like I imagine they did in the 50’s. The radio playing quietly in the background, Dan still in his work suite, sitting upright reading the daily paper with a cigarette light in one hand. Me sitting on the sofa next to him with the latest copy of Lady’s Home Journal, a glass of Gin and Tonic cooling me off from the warm summer night. Then as we retire into bed early, laying said by side we would talk of our latest hopes and aspirations. About the dreams we have for dapper young Conrad.

But in all reality, neither Dan and or I would find that very relaxing. Though he may be watching a ball game and I some reality show we are still spending our nights unwinding together at what we both enjoy doing. Though we may not converse much it’s still not the same watching TV alone. There is a bonding taking place and a renewing that brings us together at the end of each day. That strengthens us for the next work day. Our weekends are usually spent doing more activity’s together as a family.

Though there is no glamor what soever to our nights, it works for us. It’s how we UNWIND after a long day. So what do you do to unwind at the end of your day?

NOTE: This is not a question being sent out into the void. I see you “lurkers” out there! Jump in on the comment section and let me know how you like to UNWIND, come back to see what others have to say. Who knows, maybe we will all find a new way to unwind! But if you insist on remaining a “lurker” thats fine too.