Fighting Fair

I have some redeeming qualitites that I bring to this relationship Better Half and I have.

I'm a decent cook (as I can read and therefore can follow a recipe).  I'm a decent seamstress (again, due to the reading thing).  This is beginning to look like it was written in 1950.  For the love.

I saved us thousands of dollars in private school tuition by home schooling when the kids were small.

Although I am not an extrovert, I am MORE extroverted than Better Half, doing my part to ensure that we don't spend so much time with only each other for company that we start looking like each other.  Or looking like our dog.

I say what I think.  Almost.  Always.  So we discuss things like politics, religion, replacing our 50 year old furncace with a new one, etc. etc. etc.  And he   we make better decisions because of the dialogue.  :o)

Fighting fair, however?  That's not really one of my redeeming quailities.

I have a short fuse.  I can get angry and frustrated very quickly, and I get over it relatively quickly.  I try to bite my tongue and count to 10 or 20 or 1,000 when that happens, but I'm not always successful.

I'm historical when I get mad.

And I have NEVER followed the advice given to almost every married couple from Paul's letter to the  Ephesians--"Be angry and do not sin; don't let the sun go down on your anger."   I choose instead to follow the advice of David in Psalm 4--"When you are disturbed, do not sin.  Ponder it in your beds and be silent."  I mean, come on.  Paul was never married (that we know of).  And David...well...David was married.  Lots.  Whose advice would you follow?  :o)

Okay.  Fine.  I'm still working on the "do not sin" part.  But the  "Ponder it in your beds and be silent" thing?  I've got that DOWN.

It has never bothered me to go to bed angry.  I find that 6+ hours of time-out and rest goes a LONG way towards giving me a reasonable perspective on whatever I was ticked off about.

Irritations are harder long-distance.  A friend of mine, who has done this a number of times, had this advice to give:

  "the great 'thou shalt not' is fighting over email.  If you have something angry to say (and you will - remember, he'll be kickin' it in LA with Lil 'Wayne and the Kardashians in the VIP section with Tanqueray while you're managing 4 kids that are aggravated that their dad is gone), say it over the phone, not over email."

This sounds resonable, and I'm finding from other experiences in my life that email/text/etc. is a HORRIBLE way to express one's frustration with a situation.  So I'm really making an effort to handle conflict this way.  And I'm shocked that Better Half has only been gone two weeks and I've already had to discipline myself to excercise this gem.  More than once.

I'm still not sure why I'm shocked by this.  Sort fuse = me.

So I'm saving it--my irritation--for when we talk on the phone.

But here's the problem:  Although I have absolutely no qualms whatsover about retorting tersely, "Fine.  Whatever. Good NIGHT!" and flipping off the light and seething in silence until I fall asleep; I cannot even bring myself to say, "Fine.  Whatever.  Good NIGHT!" and hit "end" on the cell phone.

That feels like a level of unfair fighting that even I'm uncomfortable with.

Instead I'm learning how to offer forgiveness when I'm not ready to forgive. How to see it from another side when I still want to look at it from just my side. That not everything is done with the express intention of ticking me off.

And I'm learning that you can do both:

"Not let the sun go down on your anger (at least the sun in the Golden State--the sun goes down here before dinner is even on the table) and "Ponder it in your beds and be silent."

And maybe that's gonna be a big part of figuring out this "Be angry and sin not." thing.

Making a Short Story Long...

Since this is primarily a place to record the goings-on of "My own Backyard,"  I guess a recap of the past few months is probably in order.  If I ever get industrious enough to have this nonsense printed and bound in hard-copy, I won't want the events that have led up to the new adventure we're experiencing these days to go un-documented.  And as I'm sure most of my future posts will be about said "adventure," it might be helpful to know how we got here.

So--and I'll try to make this short and sweet--here goes:

Boy meets Girl (or maybe Girl meets Boy--I don't exactly remember, and that may be further back than we need to go).

For some crazy reason Girl still does not understand, Boy proposes to Girl.  Girl says yes.

Boy and Girl make people.  Four of them, to be exact.  A statistically good number to ensure that their her unique brand of crazy gets passed along somewhere in the gene pool.

Boy and Girl spend the next 17 or so years (give or take) raising the people in a functionally dysfunctional home in a small Midwestern town.

June of 2012 Boy finds out that his employment security is not immune to the plight of the American economy.  Girl inwardly has a mental breakdown while outwardly tries to remain composed and supportive.  (Employment instability is one of Girl's deepest fears).

August of 2012 roles are tweaked.  Girl works full-time.  Boy does...well, everything else.  It's a pretty cushy deal for Girl, minus the obvious decrease in spendable income.

October of 2012  severance package runs out.  Boy is offered employment.  Great company.  Great benefits.  Great potential for future advancement.  Great distance from small Midwestern town.

Employment is located in the Golden State.

Boy takes job.

Boy moves across the continent.

Girl stays behind.  With the four people.  And the psychotic dog (more on the dog later). The oldest of the people graduates this year.  Girl's teaching contract needs to be fufilled.  Plans are for Girl and people to join Boy later this summer.

Which brings us to now.

We are in the middle of week two of this "new normal."

Stay tuned to see how it goes.

It would make for a highly entertaining reality show, I'm sure!  I'd wager it's every bit as good as "Duck Dynasty."

Dear Blog,

 I know.  It's been a Really. Long. Time.

And I'm sorry.

I can give you all of the excuses reasons why I haven't posted in a million months.  The school year, drama, kids, drama, tired, drama, husband-has-a-new-job-and-I'm-moving-to-California (Wait.  That is the drama)-did I mention drama?

But they'd be just "reasons."

The truth is, I've been stepping out on you with Facebook.

I'm ashamed.  Truly I am.  But Facebook is easy and convenient.  The little box that asks me "What's on my mind" is small.  I can fire off something quippy and have the nearly instant gratification of  5 likes and 3 comments before I've even scrolled through my newsfeed.  And you know how that feeds my inner narcissist.

You are tougher.  Your box is REALLY big.  I have to have a LOT of words.  Yes.  I know.  This isn't generally a problem.  But the time factor is.  And you have a place for a title.  So not only do I have to fill the big box with LOTS of quippy words, I also have to come up with a quippy title.

Lately, that's just been too much pressure.

So I bailed.

But there you sit every day where I can see you (thanks to Better Half who made a shortcut for you on my bookmarks bar that I have no idea how to remove), making me feel guilty reminding me that I wanted this as a record for my family someday of our wacky crazy life and the wacky crazy things I think at any given moment.

And I do miss you.  Lots.

And people have been asking about you.

Okay.  Fine.  My parents have.  I think they're our only readers anymore.

I know.  Totally my fault.  And it's okay.  This relationship can just be for us.

So, will you give me another chance?

I know I'll have to work hard to earn your trust and that is going to mean putting words in the big box more than once a month.

I'm really going to try.

Love,
Me

The Wolf I Feed

My friend, Sarah, who has a great blog of her own that you can read here, posted this question on Facebook today:

Informal and potentially loaded facebook survey...Do you think humanity is innately good or evil? When presented with a choice do you initially gravitate towards kindness or malice? Not what you actually do or choose, but what's your first reaction? Good? Or ill? And...GO!


Now, there is nothing I like better than a "potentially loaded" Facebook post.

Sure--I love to see smiling pics of the fam and find out that the Pinterest recipe was a huge hit with the book club set.  I have been known to spit coffee onto my computer screen at some of the "Some ee cards" out there (and quickly pull up another internet window so I don't have to explain something I'm so not ready to explain to my very observant ten-year-old).

But ask me for my opinion on a philosophical question and my fingers start itching...literally...to tell all of someone's 450 some-odd Facebook friends (most of whom don't know me from Adam) exactly what I think.

And, dear reader, I TOTALLY took the bait. I answered the question.

Well.  Actually...

I answered the first part of the question.   I talked about that Cherokee legend about the wolves (if you don't know it you can read it here) and I said that I thought it was our responsibility to feed our "good wolves" and the "good wolves" of those around us.

And then I got up from the computer and went to unload the dishwasher.  And this is the conversation that I had with my inner Jiminy Cricket:

Jiminy:  Really?  You really think it's our responsibility to feed "the good wolves" of those around us?

Me:  Yes.  Of course!  Don't you?

Jiminy:  Well, that's not what you do...

Me:  EXCUSE me?

Jiminy:  It isn't.  You spend more time telling your kids and Better Half what they're doing "wrong" or what you're frustrated with than you do telling them what they're doing "right."

Me (sputtering):  But...I shouldn't have to give them kudos for...they know what they're supposed to...how will they...?

Jiminy:  And when you're talking to your friends, you complain and criticize a LOT.

Me (indignantly):  I do NOT!  I share my opinions with my friends, but I am FUNNY...it's lighthearted satire...I don't complain and criticize!

Jiminy:  Just because your complaints and criticisms are thinly--very thinly--veiled with sarcasm and humor doesn't mean they aren't still complaints and criticisms.

Me (with my lips tightly pressed together):  I am so NOT talking to you about this, anymore!

Jiminy:  Fine.  But think about it.  What if you really focused on feeding the "good wolf" in others?  Made it a priority?  Stopped complaining, pointing out failings and frustrations and focused on the good?  Would everyone's "good wolf" grow?

Ouch.  I guess that's the answer to my friend, Sarah's question.

In my wolf world, the planned feedings, the feasts, the holiday dinners, etc. go (mostly) to Good Wolf.  That's not no say I've never planned a feeding for Bad Wolf.  Unfortunately, I have.  And when I do, it's a five course meal with all the fixin's.

But in my wolf world, Bad Wolf is friendlier.  His fur is softer.  He sits patiently at my feet and nudges my legs so I will pet him.  And before I know it, I'm feeding him scraps and snacks and tidbits of complaining and gossip and irritation and unforgiveness and judgement.

Good Wolf hangs back. He's not initially so friendly or inviting.  I have to approach him.  But once I do and offer my food, the devotion I get wildly surpasses that of Bad Wolf.

Everyone's wolf world doesn't look like mine.  For many people, Good Wolf is the friendlier one--the one that is forefront in the pack.  And I am so envious of those people.

But that doesn't let me off the hook.

So here begins my campaign to be more purposeful about  "Feeding the Good Wolves."

In myself, and in others.

Chick-Fil-Ugh

My personal experience with the fast-food chain, Chick-Fil-A is minimal.  I'll admit it.

I realize that it has an almost cult-like following (even before all of the media attention it's getting these days), but I'm not a part of that cult.

I've eaten there exactly one time in my life and I wasn't impressed.  To be fair, I was on my way home from a seven day cruise in the Caribbean.  And I don't care how great their spicy chicken sandwich is, it couldn't hold a candle to the kind of food I'd been eating the previous week.

There is no Chick-Fil-A in my tiny hamlet, but when my kiddos where tiny, some friends of ours (who have family in the Denver area) frequented it often.  They would bring us their extra Kid's Meal toys.  Now, as a home school mommy, any restaurant that gives a kid a "free" Usborn Book gets a big "thumbs up" from me.

But until recently, I never really thought about Chick-Fil-A.  Ever.

Now I'm thinking about Chick-Fil-A a lot.  Thank you, constant and instant media and social networking platforms.

Actually I'm thinking about some people's response to it.  And I'm bemused.

Here's what I understand (and I realize this is simplified):

The CEO of Chick-Fil-A, Dan Cathy, stated in an interview with a Christian publication that  although he doesn't consider Chick-fil-A a "Christian business," he does operate on "biblical principles." "We are very much supportive of the family — the biblical definition of the family unit....


So Mr. Cathy voiced his opinion on a social issue.  Fine.  Last I checked, his Constitutional rights as an American citizen allow him to do that.

But frankly?

The response to Mr. Cathy's opinion by political figures like Mike Huckabee and many Americans who share this opinion confuses me.

There now seems to be an even more cult-like support of Chick-Fil-A.  People are patronizing it en masse.  

So here's MY question:

If the CEO of PhillipMorrisUSA  stated that he "operates on biblical principles" and "is supportive of the family and the biblical definition of the family unit," are Mr. Huckabee and everyone else going to run to their nearest convenience store or "Smoker Friendly" and purchase and smoke a carton of cigarettes?

Because here's the thing:

Chick-Fil-A food (and fast food in general) ISN'T.  GOOD.  FOR.  YOU.

Here's a list of chicken nugget ingredients, straight from the Chick-Fil-A website:

100% natural whole breast filet, seasoning (salt, monosodium glutamate, sugar, spices, paprika), seasoned coater (enriched bleached flour [bleached wheat flour, malted barley flour, niacin, iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid], sugar, salt, monosodium glutamate, nonfat milk, leavening [baking soda, sodium aluminum phosphate, monocalcium phosphate], spice, soybean oil, color [paprika]), milk wash (water, egg, nonfat milk), peanut oil (fully refined peanut oil with TBHQ and citric acid added to preserve freshness and Dimethylpolysiloxane an anti-foaming agent added).

Yeah.  

We have documented factual heart disease concerns in this country.  We have documented childhood obesity concerns in this country.  Celiac's disease is on the rise, cancer is on the rise and so are a host of other health issues.  Fast food restaurants are not helping this problem.

Frankly, since Mr. Cathy is in the food industry, and food is how we feed "the temple",

Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own...1 Corinthians 6:19

I am so much more interested in how Mr. Cathy is going to apply the biblical principles of healthy food choices to his business practices.  But strangely, no one is discussing that.  Hmm...

Instead, political figures and Americans at large are willing to stand with someone on a social opinion even if to do so means to disregard factual health research, AND another biblical principle (the health of our physical bodies).

I still don't get it.  

So as for me and my house...

We are eating at home.

It's an Ill Wind That Blows Nobody Good

July, 2012 has pretty much sucked.

It has sucked the most for Better Half, but the entire family has been affected.

My mother-in-law has been fighting an aggressive form of cancer for over two years.  This month, Better Half and his four siblings watched her lose her fight with this terrible disease.

In the midst of the process there was joy and peace and love and laughter and family and mended relationships.  It is holy and sacred to see someone leave this place for the next.  Death, after all isn't the opposite of life.  It is the opposite of birth. And the exit from this place is just an entrance to another, better place.

She was fifty-six.  That's too young to die.  Five children now inhabit a planet where their mother does not.  The world isn't the same when that happens.  My two youngest sisters-in-law won't have their mother to go wedding dress shopping with them.  There will be grandchildren who will never get to meet her.  We all have regrets that we didn't _____________________.  We all just thought we'd have plenty of time.


At Better Half's annual review, he was told that the company he works for is downsizing and consolidating positions, leaving him without employment.

I'll let you in on a little secret:  Job loss is one of my biggest fears.

So now our reality is severance packages, COBRA decisions, resumes, networking, a faltering economy, possible relocation and an (obviously) significant reduction in income.

And a full-time working mommy.  Certainly, this is the least of our problems.  I'm fortunate to have a job and a boss who didn't blink an eye when I asked if I could bump my FTE to 1.0 from 0.5.  Surely, after almost 18 years, it's only fair that I take my turn being responsible for things like health insurance benefits.  But I don't want to.  Yup.  There it is.  My inner two-year-old rears its ugly head.  I like working part time (or not at all).  I like having discretionary income.  I had plans for my time off this school year.  I'm trying not to have a bad attitude.  And I'm successful.  Most of the time.  If I get my coffee quickly enough in the morning.

This switch from part-time to full-time also means a change in my job title and duties for this coming year.  Again.  I had plans for this year.  They didn't include this.  I'll get over it.  Hopefully I'll rise to the challenge and be able to look back on this time and appreciate all that we learned and how much we grew. But right now, I'm tired, depressed, and overwhelmed.  And scared.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, we are incredibly blessed, but still.

I'm really looking forward to the start of next month.  It's got to be an improvement over this one.

A Heartfelt Thank You

Dear Coach Schmidt,

As I watched you hug Oldest Son and each young man on your baseball team as you handed them their trophies and congratulated them on taking second at State today, it hit me full-force that we had just played our last game with this team and with you as our head coach.

And I'm not sure we've ever expressed our gratitude for all that you've done for him.

Thank you for cutting him from the Southwind Sluggers team when he was ten.  That experience taught him so much about trying, failing, working hard, and trying again.  Thanks for taking the time to explain to his dad what he needed to work on to be better.  Thanks for loving kids so much that you agonized over that decision, and thank you to your wife, who shared that with me at the store one day--months after it happened.  Exactly when I needed to hear it.

Thanks for giving him a spot on the Jr. Pups 11 and under team.  I've never seen him so excited!

Thank you for praying with your team before and after every game (Oldest Son's Facebook cover photo is a shot of all of you doing this very thing).  Thank you for unashamedly sharing your faith with these young men.  Thank you also, for cutting up with them and having a good time and making mistakes and apologizing.  These boys are seeing what it looks like to be a man of God and that it doesn't have to ruin your good time or mean you have to be "stuffy" and "perfect."

Thank you for coming over to our house to personally check on Oldest Son's eye injury a couple of years ago and for bringing the game ball signed by his team and for praying with him before you left.  He healed enough to play in part of that tournament the following weekend, as I remember. "The prayers of a righteous man availeth much..." :o)

Thank you for not just coaching these boys during games, but also for teaching them.  Thank you for pushing hard, expecting excellence, and allowing for mistakes and for always explaining.  Oldest Son is definitely a better ball player for it, and I believe someday he'll be a better coach for it as well. Hopefully someday when he gets to coach his own son.

Thank you for loving to win games and for not being ashamed of that fact, but thank you also for putting family and relationships and integrity ahead of winning ball games.

Thank you that I overheard other coaches say multiple times, "We love playing this team.  It's such a great group of kids and coaches."

Thank you, most importantly, to your family--especially your son, who is so kind about you taking on additional "kids" every summer.  We know that time spent with our son and with the baseball team means less time spent with your family.  Thank you to both you and he for befriending Better Half and Oldest Son.  They both have a great time hanging out with the two of you.

They say that "It takes a village to raise a child."  I heartily agree.  Thank you so very much for being such a big part of our village these last four years.


You did what you set out to do.

You prepared these boys very well for high school baseball.


Better Half and I are looking forward to sitting with you and your family in the stands watching all that the next four years has to offer!

Thanks again.  So very, very much.