good enough parent confession #4: off the reservation

The other day our 3 year old came 6 inches from walking off the curb into an oncoming car.

Our oldest ran after him, yelling

STOP!

Neither were far from me so I was able to lunge sideways to push our eldest back at his chest and catch our youngest before he left the curb but it was not soon enough for the driver to have confidence. 

As I grabbed our youngest's arm, my peripheral vision caught sight of the car swerving into the center lane and my ears were assaulted by its horn.

{thud, stop, thud, stop, thud, stop, thud}

I thought my heart might explode.

Instead, 

I held him in my arms & walked calmly through the crosswalk as he scolded me for holding his arm "too tight."

Earlier that day, our 9 year old asked a friend to join us for a play date and they proceeded to be the most demandy-pants, self-centered, entitled duo on the planet {true to age}  For instance, they got kicked out of the gift shop and spent the rest of their museum time pining to return and plotting ways to spend their {parents'} money. 

It was our first day of summer and I had been looking forward to hanging out with both boys - doing something fun to start the season off right.  But, I should have known it was going to be this kind of a day when it started with poop on the wall and a tearful search for "the perfect outfit." 

Maybe we should have called the whole thing off but, being the glutton I am, I decided to forge ahead with our plan for a playdate and lunch.

It was only noon and I was dreaming of returning to bed. 

Dude, usually only one kiddo goes off the reservation at a time but here, on this day, it took them less than a morning to wander off together {into oncoming traffic, no less}

Photo by: www.margaretclairephotoraphy.com

We returned home and I was counting the moments until nap time while trying to keep my voice as "normal" as possible in the process.  Which, I knew was a big fat "mom fail" when I walked into the bathroom to remind our youngest to pee into the toilet {not the floor} to find he had both hands over his ears.

Good Enough Parent Confession number four:

Sometimes my children go off the reservation and...

I go with them.

We wander through the wilderness of disorder & raised voices & communication fails,

in need of a nap or a time out in order to gather our bearings.

On this particular day, we needed both.

that which keeps me up at night

the year before we were engaged, my husband was a republican. 

{i was not}

we were

both raised in Christian homes, with Christian values, and met in church while attending a Christian college.

many of our friends were republican {many still are} and, at the time, i steered clear of political conversation - because i was a bit of a hot head and honestly, i didn't know enough about politics to have effective discourse {that may still be true}

however,  that year:

my little sister began identifying as gay and

my husband decided not to pursue a career in politics, as originally planned and

Bill Clinton was impeached and

my husband started working in a group home with adolescent sex offenders and

we didn't talk much about politics...or faith & politics {as those generally went hand-in-hand in our circles}.

then, that summer

 - just after my older sister's wedding, while we were tired and our defenses were down - 

we went on a road trip and got lost in Vermont.  

and we started talking. 

{about politics} 

the kind of talking where one inquires about the other's view on specific issues. 

i think that was probably not the best idea because somewhere, in the middle of a vermont highway, 

i asked him to stop the car and let me out.  

i was sitting in the car with a bigot and 

he was sitting in the car with a socialist.

we stopped on the side of the road and stewed in that reality for a while. 

{silent}

i finally told him {time will tell}

his views were too antiquated, too narrow-minded, and unsustainable

my views were too emotional, too hippie, and unsustainable

we both decided {never to speak of politics again}

which, we managed to do for so long that 2 elections later, i was kind of surprised to learn how far he'd swung from his young republican days.

it's funny, friends have remarked on my liberal, democratic ways "rubbing off" on him and you know, part of that may be true but i think the more likely culprit is this world - 

this broken, unequal, God-driven, God-forsaken, selfish, hurting world has rubbed off on him.  

{on us}

as a hot head, i have been intentional about trying to advocate for considering the good of the party spectrum while my husband often continues to see things in party terms.

however, this past week as the House was going back and forth on the farm bill, 

my peacemaker intentionality was obliterated. 

did you know, 

all but 6 House republicans voted for an amendment to the farm bill denying food stamps to those who've lost their jobs? this, in addition to deeply slashing access to food stamps for those with vehicle assets or criminal record.

for the love!  

i feel incredulous and a little sick.  

we don't have the social infrastructure to pass legislation like that and

thinking about this kept me up through the night.

i mean, really, not that long ago, our little family was sustained by food stamps.

it was a low point in our life but we were so thankful for the safety net and

this kind of legislation would have boxed us out.

i no longer feel as hopeful as I did after the election last year. 

i actually feel despair that such a large body of people, representative of a large portion of our nation, would make deliberate choices to put marginalized, disenfranchised, and vulnerable individuals/families in such a double-bind.

i understand the impulse to be judgy-pants & cynical & righteous about "the poor;"

to be labeled poor, or a criminal, or a sex offender, or mentally ill, or an addict can feel like some version of our worst nightmare.

but for a nation {for a political party, especially} that claims Christian values {in God we trust}, 

i don't see God in these legislative decisions.  

these are not decisions embodying grace and service toward "the least of these." 

to me, it is not just about this farm bill or the amendments therein;

my despair resides in the seemingly overall incongruence between belief and action.

admittedly, i am not totally sure what to do with this yet.  

{i can't even believe i am writing a blog post about it}

all this feels like social {some might say cultural} warfare and we are not our best selves in the fight.

but 

i find myself thankful that i still get emotional.

i find myself thankful that i feel compelled to think critically about the issues our nation faces. 

i am thankful for the encouragement i received at an early age from my parents to do my own faith work, not just to rely upon what {faith} leaders told me about the world around me.

i find myself thankful that my husband and i did not start in the same place as one another politically;

while our beliefs and values on the issues have certainly grown closer together, we still aren't completely aligned, and in that space between i feel challenged to remain open to views other than my own. 

and i am thankful for a "place" to put some of this fire in my belly.

thanks for reading.

i love you for...13 years & counting!

"Are you sure you want to go barefoot?" she asked after hemming my wedding dress, glancing with concern at my calloused feet and unpolished toes.

I am sure she meant well but I felt defensive and said "absolutely, who is going to care!?!" more loudly than I should.

She caught the scent of my defensiveness and conceded, "that sounds lovely" as she tidied up the dressing room space.

I went home that night, tried my dress on again, and crumpled to the floor in tears.

I didn't feel beautiful.

I didn't feel like a princess.

I didn't feel like the books and magazines and friends said I should feel.

Everything felt so fine until I started talking with other people and then I measured all the ways in which I was doing this whole wedding thing "wrong."

This year, as I work with couples planning weddings or talk with friends, I have considered if, knowing then what I know now:  

Would I have done anything differently?

In general, I believe my answer is NO.

I loved being barefoot {it is how I roll}

I loved getting married outside, with the sunset as a backdrop

I loved having a BBQ reception before the ceremony and sparklers to end the festivities.

I loved not renting tuxes or spending lots of money on bridesmaids dresses

I loved having breakfast with a good friend that morning and then 

spending the moments after the rain {but before the party} with my sisters at the rocky beach nearby.

I loved sitting in my beloved's lap on the deck, drinking champagne and recounting the day while rain started falling and lightening flashed across the lake.

I feel as though we were fairly genuine and authentic in our presentation of selves that day.
It was a good day - a good celebration.

Photograph by Jodi Rheinheimer & Kathy Miedema

 Of course,
A part of me wishes we'd had digital photography but the photos are so candid and true to our day that it hardly feels like it matters that we don't have "artistic" and professional wedding photos.

I wish we wouldn't have given in to the hyperbolic language of our wedding era for the message we wrote to our friends and family on the bulletin but, at the same time, I am a little hyperbolic when it comes to feelings so...there's that.
And anyways, the wedding is just the wedding, right?
What about the marriage?

As we celebrate thirteen years, I am thankful we are still together.

I am thankful we continue to grow in our relationship.

We have run into some really hard times and continue to seek one another for comfort and challenge.

The content of our fights are nearly the same now as they were then {how reassuring...and depressing} but we have established different {better?} ways of engaging with each other in these moments so they don't feel so disasterous.   

I am thankful to have a friend- a partner - a lover - onto whose lap I can still climb, drink champagne {or  another beverage of choice}, and recount the day.

Photograph by Margaret Claire

Happy Anniversary, love!

You remain my favorite.

Always,

d

{outside my window: it is june}

The last few weeks have been gang-busters.

I am fairly certain this is true for most households we know.

I mean, it is already double-digit June; how did that happen?!?

Today is the first in 23 that I don't have a meeting, appointment, soccer practice, or other obligation.

{Well, I do have to work tonight but that is not until 11pm so, it almost feels like it doesn't count}

Our dining room table is full of to-do list promises and our kitchen sink full of dishes.

Yesterday, I started trying to dig out from under the weight of the "everyday" but today I am trying to attend - 

to my fatigue, to my impatience, to my cynicism, to my ambivalence, to my feeling overwhelmed.

Today I am giving myself permission to strip down to the absolute basics: 

breathe, eat, sleep.

{And, obviously, write a blog post}

So, in honor of slowing down and attending:

{Outside my window}

The sun has returned. A chipmunk pair are playing tag on our back deck and both have stopped repeatedly to look into the window - as though they want to come inside. It is somewhat creepy. 

The rain drops are drying. You can almost hear the flowers stand taller and more full.

{I am thinking}

 About my ambivalence and recalling a blog post by a friend in which she endorses the idea of writing through ambivalence. Since reading her post, I find the crevices of my thoughts considering what that might look like for me. It feels a little scary. Because what happens when I am no longer ambivalent about my "next steps;" am I ready for a conclusion?

{I am going}

To take a nap with my youngest as soon as this post is done. We are going to lie there, tell stories about his stuffed pig and snake and monkey, and then we are going to take 2 deep breaths, nestle our foreheads together and be lulled to sleep by the squish-click-squish-click of his thumb in his mouth.

{Around the house}

It is a mess. 

Mostly it is a superficial clutter that won't take longer than an hour to put away but the mess. is. everywhere.  This week will be a baby-steps-to-clean-the-house kind of a week.

{A few of my favorite things}

A cool glass of water.  The smell of freshly picked tomatoes and strawberries. Clean sheets and a made bed.  A long, uninterrupted shower.  Play dates with friends. Lectures and presentations that make my hands itch to take notes and think beyond the moment. 

Lying outside in the hammock, swinging gently in the breeze.

 

 

{I am thankful for}

My spouse.  My home. My children.  Not having to live in want or fear.

My heart is full up with the most fundamental sense of gratitude.

How are you today?