My class wasn’t all that exciting tonight. For homework we had to watch several videos and then come back to discuss them. I like the discussion formats for classes but sometimes we need more prompts from the teacher. We ended up talking about gender expression and she asked us to order ourselves in a line based on where we thought we were on the continuum of masculinity and femininity. I didn’t like that.

Something about ranking and being ranked felt weird with a group of women. I said out loud to the teacher, “How are we supposed to do that??”, more in a state of being baffled rather than looking for instruction. She said we’d have to talk to each other. So I sat there while the rest of them stood up and tried to find out each other’s hobbies and find their place on the feminine-masculine line. Then they tried by personality traits.

The ones in the middle wanted to be closer to the top. Someone had to be on the masculine end so that went to the girl who said she hikes and makes sure her voice is heard. Another girl was a gamer so she went to the more masculine side. I don’t think there should’ve been a line. I think we should’ve sprinkled ourselves throughout the room in the way the stars are spread around and then just appreciated everyone.

“Becoming the Beloved is pulling the truth revealed to me from above into the ordinariness of what I am, in fact, thinking of, talking about, and doing from hour to hour.”
~Henri Nouwen, Life of the Beloved~

Lately I’ve been thinking again how it’d be nice to have a mentor. Isn’t there anyone out there who can help me get through this? Is there any woman who exists who has successfully navigated the waters of marriage, motherhood, and hormones with grace? Can I be the person that no one else was? It’s nothing against women in my life or any women that I know. I still just wish sometimes for that soothing, wise, spiritual guide.

It isn’t like we have all the time in the world here. Seven or so years ago there was the grind of daily life. Marriage was for love but it was also very practical. I started charting in the margins, “Happy in marriage”, “Happy in marriage”, on every day that it was true, which it was for the majority of days. But then there were days when it was almost like my mind turned against me, and against even my entire life. It refused to be ignored.

I’m still trying to figure this out. Because I am more than beyond convinced that there’s a 4-5 day window that reveals more to us about ourselves and our needs than any other time with a frightening accuracy. If you’re neglecting yourself, it will show up. If you are being neglected that will come around too. But whose responsibility is it to manage and process what the monster reveals? How much bait do I accept or reject?

You stay for your values, because you believe that God is against two people divorcing. You stay together for the kids, because you’ve heard that it’s best for them and both of you love these people you’ve made. You stay because there’s this fierce refusal to harm them and screw up their lives. You stay because when things are good they are actually really good, and because it’s an enormous thing not to have to earn a living for yourself.

Well even that is not enough. Because then you have kids who get married or who one day hope to do the same. And these kids who you stayed married for, they’ll get you thinking again, “Is this the kind of marriage we would want them to have?” If the answer is no it’s time to adjust. There used to be so many requirements, preferences, wishes for what I wanted marriage to be, but God’s worked it out now to peaceful and loving.

“I missed the person I had been for them, too–the younger, more capable mother who read aloud for hours, stuck raisin eyes into bear-shaped pancakes, created knight’s armor from cardboard and duct tape. Certainly my talents didn’t seem quite so impressive anymore, my company not as desirable as it once had been.”
~Katrina Kenison, The Gift of An Ordinary Day~

I feel nostalgic lately for the kids and I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. The above line made me smile even though it sounds depressing. I sometimes wonder if I romanticize my old self, the one who read aloud for hours. I am drawn into the image like this is something that I lived and deeply recognize, but did such a person even exist? For hours? If you add up all the time, then definitely, yes. But I never would’ve tracked it.

Miles’ mom and I met for coffee at 11. We hadn’t talked since the wedding so we spent three hours catching up. It really is just vital to have those women in the same life stages where you can talk and not feel weird or crazy. I said, do you spent a lot of time lately thinking back on your life? She’d had to go to one of the local parks to take pictures, and was thinking of all the years she and her boys had visited the parks.

I’d felt the same way about the orchard. She texted her boys with her memories. I had texted my oldest with a picture saying how they all would’ve loved the additions. I don’t know why we even do this to ourselves, or to them. Dad, the boys, and I had a conversation over supper. To go from life source to the person who is buried in the texts…it doesn’t happen overnight. Somehow the arrangement still is right in my eyes.

The boys forgot their uniforms and emailed me while I was at work/Thrive. Would I be able to bring them to school somehow? The uniforms were in the laundry and they only needed them for pictures. I called Josh and asked if he could start the laundry and that I could bring their uniforms in to be there by after school. I would be home as soon as I was finished with my charting which I was very tempted to leave for later to do.

But I decided just to stay and do it. I heard the supervisor ask the desk girl if she could wipe down all of the surfaces today. One of the job duties for that position is to clean the building with the exception of the therapist offices. I saw the spreadsheet with the cleaning schedule, and even though it something I was perfectly capable of doing, there was a part of me that refused, and could not bring myself to clean for this man.

Like, as dumb as this might even sound, cleaning just felt too close to wifely duties. And I was not going to lower myself to that level and dust the shelves. Another time I was cleaning out the coffee pot after group, after Arya and I had made another pot during break. That was okay to me because it was serving the whole, and cleaning up part of my mess. He set his cup down at the sink and I thought about washing it for him.

I thought if I washed his cup that it might make him feel appreciated and connected to me. Isn’t that absolutely awful? I just left that cup sitting there and didn’t think another thing about it until later. Those couple of days when I was trying to make something work that just wasn’t, that whole experience taught me that I only clean for men I love. I will not clean for any others. It’s just part of my DNA now and that’s the way it is.

But for the ones I love I do it happily, like I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I took the clothes from the dryer and set in the front seat of the van. The boys called when school was over and asked where I was. I was parked in the parking lot folding their uniforms into individualized, neat piles. We met in the middle between the van and the school. I was so happy to see them, and after, to see my daughter only 9 minutes away.

I passed my NCE test this morning. The teacher in charge of these tests somehow got it figured out to where I could get on the roster and take the test in October. It’s a four hour test for 200 multiple choice questions. I read while I was studying that multiple choice tests are considered recognition tests. So prayed on the way there that God would help me recognize what I had learned.

And when I didn’t know an answer, that I’d be able to use my brain to make the best guess that I could, and that these two things combined would give me enough correct answers to pass. I think the studying helped me to get at least another 25 questions right so I am glad that I did that and also glad that it’s over. I texted Josh and told him, as well as two other women from LCU who I keep in touch with.

Then I called my parents while I was on my way home. The only other person I would’ve told was my grandma. I almost called my aunt but you say it enough times and it just feels like you’re bragging or making too big of a deal out of it. Josh and I went to the store and we used it as an excuse to get supper food and call it a celebratory meal. We picked out a cherry pie. They had no more peach.

This week has almost served as a fall break for school. My Monday class was cancelled. A Tuesday class was cancelled so I skipped my other one yesterday. And then today’s evening class was also cancelled due to illness the teacher said. I feel like I haven’t been doing much in the way of reflective thinking that turns up in writing. I was imagining today the dormancy of my mind turning back into something else more active.

I’m pretty sure the swimming weather is over now for the season. I look at my weather app and see only 70’s from here on out. If it turns into 80’s again in October I would still swim but I think that was probably it until next time.

The kids had a meet in Carlinville this evening. This is probably one of my top three favorite courses of all the courses that they run. It’s spectator friendly and there’s just a lot of criss-crossing and overlapping and running around going on. Elianna said she saw the boys 14 different times which I thought was ridiculous but in an ” I have no idea how you did that but that’s hilarious and good for you” kind of way.

I saw them four times. There was a kid named Chaz who flew through the course and beat everyone by another ridiculous amount of space. I asked Ethan if he’d heard of him and he said yeah he was the cross country state champion for 1A last year. A girl from out team got 3rd but when I asked her dad about he said it doesn’t matter how she does, even if she wins, she’s never happy. It’s hard to be young.

After the meet we went back to Grandma’s to have supper. She really loves decorating her new house with fall things. Before supper several of us were playing outside with Zorro. We were throwing a frisbee and he would chase it and run around while a few of the boys chased him. Zorro runs the fastest out of everyone, even Chaz. I don’t know what it is about this time of year, but the skies with the fields look so pretty.

“Thank you for another sober day”, is a prayer I learned from a client. She says it every morning upon waking. I did not have sophisticated words to explain it, but I did point out that beginning every day in such a way was significant. Such a prayer comes from a place of surrender and mystery, and an understanding that there is something else out there, someone if you consider this thing is conscious enough to hear you.

And this Person is to be thanked and credited for where you currently find yourself. This was all being understood by her without me even saying it, but I did say it, if only to cement in my own mind my own awe and wonder and very basic understanding. I see her face look to the window and it’s like a little girl smiles. They say relapse isn’t failure, it’s part of the journey. It all sounds so nice until you consider how relapses can kill.

And this condition, this disorder and disease, will indeed do just that if it is not held in check. If it is not wiped out and eliminated. I’m talking about sin and the way in completely infects everything. I want to be scrubbed. I want to be washed. I know that God is willing and has already made me clean. And I never again want to hold another person’s sin against them, or ruin any other day by being hurt and unforgiving.

Instead of being lonely,
heartbroken, or sad
They said I was supposed
to say “I miss you”

But that was lie

The truth was, I was pissed
You were not there enough
to miss

Do we have to rehash this
for the hundredth time?
No.

You’ve paid your dues
We’ve moved beyond
The hundreds and thousands

Can we now just get along?
Like the friends we started out as
Never to be bothered
into hatred again

Well at the risk of sounding incredibly simple minded I can honestly say that I liked the new Taylor Swift movie. Laura’s mom had tickets and invited me to go. The movie was like a companion to her also newly released album. When I first saw the title and cover I made a judgment that she had finally sold her soul to the music industry and decided to sexualize herself like so many other girls do in the business. I was done with her.

But then then there was this movie so I read some reviews first. People said the album was disappointing and had many not nice things to say about it. Having on seen the cover and promotions, as well as only listened to one song, I have to say that I agreed. But for whatever reason I liked the movie. As she explained the story and meaning behind the songs I found myself thinking this wasn’t as bad as they made it out to be.

Like, not every album, or even song for that matter, has to be this un-topable Shakespearean masterpiece. She actually sounds happier than she has in the past few albums and like she’s finally finding some healing following her many and various love hurts. Her cover was dramatic and edgy precisely because she is a showgirl. Most of the songs were inspired by things she went through on the Eras tour in her regular life.

Today was a day full of cross country races. At least for the first half. The boys ran at 10 and then there was the open 5k GRIT run, also at camp. Ethan had another race somewhere in South Dakota. So between all of that every child ran a race. It was fun and one of my sisters was also here with her family so she could run in the camp race. I told her if she could run this 5k course then she could pretty much run any other 5k.

Everyone was exhausted after the races. Elianna hung around for a while and took a nap, along with me and Dad. She then went back to Grandma’s with Zorro. We brought him home when we were visiting since we were already up there and his four weeks were almost done. I’m still kind of processing the information from the training so I don’t want to speak too much yet about something I do not know very much about.

But it’s been nice to have him home. Dad the boys and I went down to the lake and one of the boys took a nap on the sand while Dad swam out to his usual place on the floating dock. Somebody left or donated a cross net game so two of the boys and I played with that in the water. It’s kind of like volleyball but with a much smaller court and net. Later in the evening we met Grandma and Elianna for supper which was nice.