some random things

am i a bad person because at 6:30 in the morning, while driving through kampala traffic, after only a half a cup of coffee, i don't want to discuss how the earth rotates around the sun?  i don't want to answer why an astronaut always wears white, or how old rhianna is, or how pablo neruda died.  i just want to go back to sleep, but i can't, so at least i would love to just drive.  but how is that possible when you have a car full of curious children who just drank hot chocolate?  how is it possible? it's not. and they are good questions.  and i'm thankful that they are being asked.  really. just maybe at 7:30 or 8. 

clinic yesterday was much better.  getting back on the horse is usually easier than we anticipate. i think i can slightly subdue the american in me and balance it will the african in me.   i think it will be okay.  i think change will slowly happen. 

but it may have been good because i was so excited for the dinner party that night at a friends house in kampala.  it was a non-goodbye, goodbye dinner.  it was a 'let's-pretend-that-no-one-is-leaving-and-this-is-just-a-normal-thursday-night-dinner' dinner party. let me say, home-baked bread, fresh salad, spinach pies, some heavenly fish cakes, and eggplant, lamb, cinnamon magic- it was wonderful and delicious and fun and not even sad (well only a little).

and yesterday afternoon was the final football fellowship, so we baked eight loaves of banana bread and brought 30 bags of popcorns, and some ginger biscuits and juice, to pray and share and prepare for the final game today.  i'm so proud of these guys. they have come so far as a team and as friends and in their faith. 

someone asked me recently what my typical day is like and it left me feeling very unaccomplished. it left me feeling like i'm not doing much of anything, because of the randomness of my days, the lack of clear routine, the fact that i don't really have a 'typical day'. 

but then when you dissect one- you see that a lot happens, even in randomness, even with out clear routine. you look back and realize that you did explain that the earth rotates around the sun, not the other way around, and you even discussed the outfits of astronauts and you knew how old rhianna is and now someone can look up how pablo neruda died when they get home.  and you did see some sick people, and had a good laugh with good friends, and people are very happy when you give them banana bread.  so you see that we all accomplish quite a bit in our little moments, in our little lives, with our random days and our lack of routine.

plankton on the nile

i finally got my ugandan medical license.  i finally became 'official' and 'legal' and all those sorts of things, which is fantastic, but, it also means that i have to figure out what to do with all of those sorts of things. i suddenly have to make it.....real...my being a doctor here.  i mean i've been seeing patients and doing house calls and testing people for malaria on the football pitch, but now it comes the time to....commit....in a real way and this is kind of scarey. 

the license came at the same time as mike was beginning to ask me what i was doing here in uganda.  what my mission was, and was i accomplishing it? he was looking at me and my days and asking a very reasonable but challenging question- are you doing what you came to do? which gave me pause....

because lately, i've been feeling like a piece of plankton floating along on the waves.  because lately i've been feeling blown about like the wind. untethered. even aimless.  going through the many motions of life, but only doing that.  lately, i've been wondering what i'm doing here? (the new eyes helped, but still...)

so yesterday i started at the university clinic and in the small ways it was wonderful, but in the big ways it hard and eye opening and humbling.  in the little moments of connecting with the patients it was great and i felt useful and helpful and purposeful. but in the bigger ways, the systems ways, the culturally challenging ways, it was hard hard. 

it made me realize that you can take the girl out of america, but you can't take the america out of the girl. it made me realize that change is slow and then,, actually even slower than that. that change requires the belief that something needs changing......hmmmm.  that here relationships matter most, and people don't express when they are upset because everything 'is fine'. 

it made me understand mike better. it made me understand his days.

when i got home, deflated, we talked.

he asked me again, why i'm here and what i want to do. 

i told him i want to improve health and healthcare systems and he told me that i'm just beginning and what did i expect?

i told him i felt swallowed by africa and really right now i would rather to go sit on a parisian bridge looking over notre dame and eat a pan chocolate. i told him that this piece of plankton wanted to ride the nile north and land in the mediterranean, hopefully heading toward france.  or italy.  maybe florence.... the ponte vecchio... i told him that maybe front porch medicine was more my cup of tea, because at least i had control, at least it was just me deciding what was best. 

'but that doesn't sound like what you came here to do' he said.

'yeah, but right now that is what i want to do, the europe part, not the front porch part.  i mean, i don't know if i can do it.' i retorted.

'it's been one day of clinic.' he reminded.

'true.....i guess i should get back on the horse.'

and i thought about it. we came here because we believe that God cares for everyone and we should too.  we came here to try to teach what we know in a culturally sensitive way.  we came here to serve the people of uganda.  we came here to practice what we do and how we live, with justice, and mercy, and to walk humbly with our God. 

the question i should be asking myself at night as i go off to sleep is not how many people were correctly diagnosed with malaria, but did i love justice, and practice mercy and did i walk humbly with my God? did i love people well, was i patient, was i accepting and kind, was i gentle?

thank God God gave us days that end in nights and start again 12 hours later.  thank God for sleep and rest and food and families and forgiveness and trying again.

today i tried to live in my moments again.  to not be swallowed.  to breathe. to enjoy the nile and be okay that it's not the mediterranean.  and tomorrow, i will go gently back to clinic, quietly and gently, to practice justice and mercy and humbly walk with my God.

'

new eyes

has it been a week? another week?

mike is home. he came home last sunday, on mothers day, with a beautiful basket and coffee from burundi.  then we had guests visiting from the US, which was lovely and busy.  the next time i see people from the US, i will be in the US, which is strange and wonderful.

sometimes it takes seeing your life from someone elses eyes to refocus.  and that is one of the unexpected joys of visitors, they bring new eyes. 

here now, my eyes feel old and used to things, which is good and bad and natural.  but new eyes see the beauty brighter and the broken sharper and the problems more clearly. new eyes see our life here in a fresh new way, when i am feeling tired and sort of stuck, and that is so good and so important.

these guys felt the warmth of the ugandan people in a way that i take for granted. they heard our story of traveling way north to rose's ancestral village, with an amazement that i'd lost.  they saw all the projects that mike works on and can easily feel weighed down by, as meaningful and satisfying.  they heard about my medical work and were excited and encouraged, which made me excited and encouraged again. they felt the bumpy roads and witnessed the crazy traffic and all of it seemed to voice and validate that slight undercurrent of frustration that we can feel sometimes.

it's so easy to become lost in our own lives. and it's so easy to see the wonder in other peoples lives.  it's so easy to be bogged down by our own situations, and to look longingly on other peoples circumstances.  but all of our days are wonder-full.  they are full of possibilities and opportunities and gifts and growth.  sometimes we just need to look with new eyes.

happy mothers day

mike comes home tonight. finally.  the best mothers day gift ever.

this particular mothers day, i kind of just feel bad for my kids.  i feel like they got the toughskins jeans version of a mother, when they wanted the levis.  i feel like they got 'choco-flakes'
(the ugandan brand cereal) instead of 'coco pops' (which are the real deal).  i feel like they got mildly shafted with a second rate job instead of the mother i wish i was for them.  no really.  i have not been at my best this week.

but i will say, it takes two to tango, and they have not been at their best either (we can forget for the moment that i am supposed to be the mature woman who birthed them, and they are just very young children).  zoe in particular has been, well, dreadful. right now, i am the object of all the badness in her world, whether or not i have anything at all to do with what is happening, ie: it's completely not causal.  for example......

yesterday she walked into the house yelling, "charlotte is going to kampala and I HATE YOU MOM!"

to which i replied, "but what does that have to do with me?"

to which she replied, "AND YOU ARE DUMB AND FAT AND UGLY!"

now if she'd gone with MEAN and OLD and TIRED LOOKING, i would have taken pause, but those just made me laugh.  until it continued...

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT? NOBODY EVEN LIKES YOU! EVERYONE THINKS YOU ARE DUMB AND UGLY."

 i still didn't know what any of this had to do with charlotte going to kampala - except that she was disappointed and it must just stink to be 13.  except that apparently i'm a safe place for her to take it all out on.  i couldn't help it, i know it wasn't the right thing but i started to laugh.  i mean i'm sure it was her dumping all the things she's heard or feels about herself onto me (or...and you guys can tell me...she's right and nobody does like me.. rats).  but she wasn't in a place to talk as she stormed by me and slammed the door to her room.

when she finally came out, we were sitting on the couch and i told her that she had been really mean and said things that hurt people and this time the person was me. i told her that i knew she was tired of daddy being gone and that i knew things feel differently when he is away (like i become a nutball), but that he'd be home soon and that it was mothers day, so if she could just try a little harder, that would be great.

to which she replied by slowly ripping a piece of paper in two, handing them to me, and saying, "here you go mom.  happy mothers day, i'm giving you a broken heart." looking very pleased at her symbolic gesture.

all i could come up with was, "no thanks zoe. i'd rather you just be kind."

my own mother had sent me a lovely e-card about all the great things that mothers do- like being patient and supportive -even when kids are messing up. i'm pretty sure that i'm am not that mother in the card.  she sent another one with video clips of kids yelling "MOM!!!" while they are messing up and this felt more like my house this week.

being a mom is hard.  we are the leaders.  we are the pied pipers.  we have lots of pairs of eyes and ears watching and listing to EVERYTHING we do and say and how we do it or say it.  these things we've birthed are like sponges soaking in us.  what we do and don't do, and speak or don't speak, and how we do and say what we do and say, shapes them and molds them and is often reflected back to us.  i find this TERRIFYING when i think about it, so i don't like to think about it. but i need to think about it because it's true and if i don't think about it, then i won't try harder and who will these people become? YIKES!

today mothers day wasn't about me, it was about the kids that i mother, and me giving pause to how i do this hard job and how i can do it better. i want to be coco-pops and levis.  i want to be all the things that love is- patient, kind, not self-seeking, not easily angered (doh!), forgiving, protecting, trusting, hoping, and persevering- because i LOVE them so much. because they deserve the first rate job mother- and i need to practice what i believe, i need to live out the love i have for them.

after church we went to the pool, and we played a lot and swam. when we got home, i got this card from jude, ( i tried hard not to over analyze the stick figures.....i'm smiling but he's not... but it could be that he made the head too small to squeeze in a smile..)

 

but the words were so sweet. 

 i'm not the best mom ever, but i'm glad he loves me so much.  i think he knows i love him even more than that.

at bedtime rose said when daddy comes home they're going to make me dinner because it's "mama's day". bryn said that he tried to make me card, but we'd run out of paper, so he would make me card tomorrow.  it really is the thought that counts.

when i tucked zoe in bed, she at least said she loved me, with out hurling any insults. progress, but thank God they're not all 13 at once!

happy mothers day!!

1 more day

mike comes home tomorrow night. late. but at least it's tomorrow.

this is good, very good, because i'm losing the battle. i hate to use war terminology, but that is how it feels today. because i have a migraine, and the finger that was accidentally bitten by the dog last night looks infected.  because someone pooped their bed. because someone just 'confessed' that actually she hasn't brushed her teeth in 2 days, or worn her retainers. because the children's rooms look like bombs have exploded, as does the laundry room and the kitchen.

this is not me. i'm really not a messy house person, but this morning, i'm defeated. so after making them chocolate chip pancakes (which people actually complained about- 'they're too sweet!' ) i've let the natives run wild.  zoe is watching a movie in her mess (after finally brushing), bryn has a friend over and they are yelling and undoubtedly making a much bigger mess, and rose is running around in princess pajamas wearing her 'mama hair' (a shirt on her head to create the look of long hair).  i have no idea where jude is and i'm hiding in my room, hoping this headache will go away and my finger will stop paining!

while mike has been gone things have fallen apart.  really, things, thankfully not people.  the toilet broke, the dryer broke, the internet at home hasn't worked once, and the car broke. today now that  the end in in sight, i'm letting down my guard and i'm feeling it.

where is the grace? the grace is in a friend coming to watch the kids so i could go buy antibiotics for my finger.  the grace came in mike answering his phone so he could help me manage zoe who was refusing to brush her teeth.  the grace came in my parents purchasing an absurd amount of migraine medicine months ago, so that now, it's kicking in and i'm getting some relief.  the grace is in the dog for once, not moaning all morning.  the grace is in the beauty of this day.  the grace is in a modem that lets me get online when the home internet doesn't work.  the grace is in the presence of edith who has helped me every evening with dinner.  the grace is in good neighbors and friends who reach out when your car is broken. the grace abounds.

now i need to come out of hibernation.  now i need to clean my house. i need to feed the restless natives lunch.  but i always need to remember the grace.

for those three minutes, it's worth it

i LOVE picking up my kids from school. 

okay, i don't love the drive into the city to get them, but i LOVE that minute when i first see them after their 8 hours off on their own.  i love the joy and the excitement.  it really is beautiful.....for about 3 minutes....and then the ironic chaos of herding cats begins.  then begins the gathering of shoes and bags and water bottles and papers, and the saying goodbye to this friend and that teacher, and three different people wanting to share something that happened immediately (because they forget that we have an hour in the car to get home).  then begins the shuffling off to the car and the loosing of one child in that process (usually zoe), while trying not to have anyone hit by a car on the way to our car.  then begins the fighting over who gets to sit in the front, the inevitable complaining over how hot the car is (usually instigated by me), and the dissatisfaction with the 'snack in the car'. 
-----
i must pause to comment on this generation and the snack thing.  when i went anywhere with my mom as a kid? THERE WERE NO SNACKS!! THERE WERE NO WATER BOTTLES, unless we were playing soccer.  THERE WAS NO EXPECTATION OF TREATS OR DRINKS.  there were meal times and we waited for them.  or if we had snacks, we got them for ourselves at home. and if we were thirsty, we drank from the hose on the side of the house. but now, (and this is our fault) we come prepared, as if any of us have lived through any war like situation for which we needed to be prepared.  i mean it's ridiculous! but God forbid you're at the park and your kid is snackless, because then they will (and they will) sidle up to some other kid with their raisin filled tupperware and steal some, probably when they have a really runny nose, just to annoy the prepared mother even more. 

not only are there snacks everywhere but there is a hierarchy of snacks, and judgement associated with the quality of the snack.  it's supposed to be healthy and nutritious and non-allergic and in a recyclable container. 

i admit that i have failed in my rebellion of the snack trend.  after too many snotty grabs at other childrens 'pirate booty', i try to have something for them to shove in their mouths, but it's often not as good as other kids snacks. 

( i will save my rant about this generation and birthday party extravagance for another post...)
------
back to afternoon pick up.... so once in the car, then comes the hour drive home.  people usually like to argue over what music to listen to, and then yell at zoe when she replays the beginning of a song over and over.  people like for me manage their snack opening and trash disposal while driving, this is annoying.  people like to smack the one child who may have fallen asleep, this is also annoying.  people like to point out things that are very common place in excited voices like "DID YOU JUST SEE THAT CHICKEN!"  and then get upset because i was looking at the car in front of us, instead of the chicken, again, annoying.

but, by far the worst part of the whole day, awaits.   the worst part of the whole day happens when we pull into the driveway.  for some reason, getting everyone out of the car and into the house, with their stuff, and my stuff, and their snack trash, and whatever groceries i've picked up in town, and getting the house door open, the car door locked, without someone crying and someone else screaming, and someone getting hurt, and me loosing it...well, it's so far proven impossible. 

yes.  because the dog is moaning and jumping for attention, as is the cat, and it's super hot on the porch, and my keys are buried in a large bag, usually my phone is ringing too, and the groceries are heavy, and i have to pee.  once the door is open, suddenly everyone tries to enter at the same time and drop their bags and shoes in the doorway, while whining loudly "WHAT CAN WE EAT MOM!!!" as if they've already forgotten about their car snack!

this happens everyday.  it doesn't matter what i do, it does. not. change.

the problem is that in reflecting over my days, and my hours with my kids, i realized that while i LOVE my kids, and i REALLY DO, i actually dread several of the parts of the day with them. because after the 'transitioning and settling into home' happens, then beginning the almost equally dreaded...
 homework time.  oh. dear.  they all need help.  they all don't want to do it.  they all want to go outside and play.  they all want more food.  and while homework is the LAST thing I want to do, i'm begging them to sit down get going because it will only get worse as the evening wears on.

finally when they have finished and i'm feeling like i need a nap, or a cup of coffee, or something much stronger, we have about 90 minutes until dinner.  that means that i need to go and make dinner.  90 minutes of peace and cooking, sometimes, before the good times begin again, dinner and bath time and bedtime.   all that crazy and parenting and reminding and reinforcing and nagging and trying to not yell...it's hard... well, for me.  

but, there is hope.

because the time when the darkness has fallen and the teeth have been brushed and those 4 sweet little heads are in their beds, is another favorite and scrumptious few minutes.  tucking them in.  those quiet moments of one on one time to hold them and smell their hair and tell them they are so loved and (usually) that i'm sorry for yelling and having poor snack choices. 

yes. even if there are only 20 minutes a day of precious time, and 700 minutes of chaos, it's worth it. they are worth it. 

how do you fit 2 years into 4 weeks?

hmmmm.

we have our tickets home.  this is fantastic.  but, now begin the logistics.  how do you squeeze two years of being gone into 4 weeks back to visit? how do you catch up with all the people you want to see and be with, and really have significant time with them, and deal with "re-entry", and have a 'vacation' and deal with 're-exiting' (ie: catching up on doctors appointments, mammograms, orthodontists and restocking on meds, gatorade, plastic bags, and chocolate chips?) 

i think these things are incompatible.

people have said, 'forget the vacation part'.  people have said, 'you won't be able to see everyone'.

but i don't want to forget that and i do want to see everyone!

i'm sure a large part of this comes down to organization-which- i'm not great with- so i'm starting to have that panicked feeling.  this is the problem with living across the world from where your life was for 40 years.

because if i make a list of all the things i want to do when i go home, and all the things i need to do when i am home, i don't have enough time. and this makes me think about time in general. this makes me think about my days now. this also makes me think about want and need, and the value of lists altogether.

i'm torn between stressing and planning and scheduling and packing full the 4 weeks that i have between the 4 years that i have been and will be away again before returning; or just going home and letting it evolve.  because there is a part of me that wants to just show up at home with no warning, no plans, no advanced notice and just go the park with my kids and see what happens.  but then i know that half the people i'm dying to see will be on vacation with their families far away and not at the park, and that would be sad and lonely.

i know the answer lives in the tension between these opposites.  the answer is again, in the gray not the black or the white.  i can pick one day for appointments.  i can pick 4 days for relaxing on the dock of the lake with a book and playing in the water with my kids.  i can schedule a few lunches, a few dinners, and i can have a bunch of days to see what happens. i can also prepare for the fact that 99% of this trip will not be a vacation, but maybe 1% can be.  i can know that i won't be able to see everyone, and those that i do see i won't see for as long as i'd like. 

i think the hardest part will be saying goodbye again.  when we left the first time, it was hard and terrifying and exhilarating all at once.  now this has become our home.  now we have a new normal. and now we need to grow into this new normal where visiting every 2 years, catching up and saying, 'goodbye until...' becomes the new normal.

over here in the expat and missionary worlds, this is very normal.  it's just my first time....  i'm sure it will be wrought with mistakes and mishaps and disappointment, and a lot of laughter and fun and remembering and new memory making.  i'm sure it will many things that i'm not expecting and many things that i am, and i'll be surprised by which things surprise me.

i hope i can be gentle with my expectations, and that others can be gentle with their expectations of me.  i hope that i will hold loosely to the 'need to' list and fully embrace the 'want to' list.

but whatever happens, i can't wait to come home!



“I give you this to take with you:
Nothing remains as it was. If you know this, you can
begin again, with pure joy in the uprooting.”
― Judith Minty, Letters to My Daughters

a part of a poem

Everyone should be born into this world happy
and loving everything.
But in truth it rarely works that way.
For myself, I have spent my life clamoring toward it.
Halleluiah, anyway I'm not where I started!

And have you too been trudging like that, sometimes
almost forgetting how wondrous the world is
and how miraculously kind some people can be?
And have you too decided that probably nothing important
is ever easy?

                    taken from Halleluiah by mary oliver

now

it's cloudy but not raining which is rare but lovely.  it's cool and somehow i can pretend i'm somewhere else for a few moments.  i'm also listening to rupa and the april fishes which makes me feel like i'm at some back alley outdoor restaurant in europe, enjoying a glass of wine and pomme frites while night falls around me.  ahhh.

but really.

i'm on my front porch in uganda, beside the cat, with scooby doo sounding from the TV behind me and most of my children running around outside before dinner time, and mike several countries below me. still it has been a really nice quiet day. 

i have managed to survive the past few days with out massive drama and my clothes unscathed.  that said, i'm realizing how much mike does to keep me sane.  i mean basically these days he does the lions-share of the work with zoe, and i tend to do the other three. yes. that is the division of labor. our 13 year old needs one on one, and the 8,6 and 4 year olds can be handled together.  it's a fair "split".  those of you who raise children with special needs get this.  i live it, but i am still mildly baffled by it.  and when i'm single parenting...wow do i forget how hard it is to do alone.

especially at age 13. especially girls and moms. especially me and zoe. 

what doesn't kill us will make us stronger. and will make us more thankful for two parents. and for mike, more aware of who he is and what he does. and i'll love these clouds and i'll love the sound of rupa and her april fishes, and i'll love that i have a memory to escape to of european back alley restaurants. and now, i'll enjoy this porch in this moment as the night begins to soon fall around me.

preventive parenting

a good hard rain.  a quiet house. a cup of coffee. and a breakfast cake pop.  things are better.

last night, i decided it's time to practice preventive parenting.  what is that? it's pure brilliance. (it's probably what most of you do all the time- thus your intact tank tops.)  it's anticipatory.  it's planned. it's the art of being one step ahead of the little dictators.  it is not reactionary, it's strategic.  the goal is to prevent trouble, excessive yelling, and clothing destruction, by being thoughtful about what lies ahead, and then taking action to avoid the inevitable pitfalls.

for example....

the morning routine is. P.A.I.N.F.U.L. dragging the kids out of bed at 6 am, in the dark, and giving them 30 minutes to; eat and dress and brush and get in the car with out; dawdling, LPS playing, dog petting, sister smacking, art project beginning and lego building, is a challenge. because i'm also doing those things, and breakfast making, snack gathering, water bottle filling, pet feeding, and back pack assembling.

so... last night at bedtime, i announced that breakfast would be chocolate cake.  those boys were up and at the table at 6:05.  brilliant. bribery? or preventive parenting... you be the judge.

then at 6:20 when most children still needed to brush and shoe up, i announced that if we were in the car by 6:30, they could watch a video on the way to school on our recently gifted mini-dvd player.  they were in the car at 6:25.  again, brilliant.

there was still the car nudging and the arguments over who held the dvd player and which show to watch but for a rainy, trafficy, friday morning commute, it was pretty smooth.

now i have a few hours to prepare for the afternoon and evening.  to inhibit problems.  to redirect energy.  to thwart the crazy. to plan. to get on top of our game. 

but i think perhaps it needs to begin now, with the celtic prayer book.  by silencing my inner self, centering my heart, letting go of the heavy things, embracing the light, opening my hands, releasing the tightness, and asking for help.  i think perhaps it begins with me preventatively living.

oh dear

oh dear.

no really.

how a day that started so well, could have dissolved into the mess that was this evening, is puzzling and yes, concerning. because it started with a spa day with my girls. so there was lots of time to talk and have coffee and lunch and talk more and now i have really clean feet and nice nails too.  i mean it was great.  i felt revived, and was even able to push the fact that they will all be gone in 2 months, out of my mind. 

the only problem was that i'm pretty sure i've cracked a rib coughing, so all day i've had a good amount of pain, especially with moving, laughing, and of course, coughing.  by the time i got home with the kids, the pain was bad and i had no ability to tolerate....well.....anything.  i just wanted to lie down with a hot water bottle. i did not want to cajole three kids to do their homework. i did not want to make dinner.  i did not want to walk the dog. i did not want to deal with the insane meowing kitten, or the 9 pairs of shoes that were scattered all over the living room (because there were friends over), or listen to the kids who belonged to those 9 pairs of shoes. 

but.

instead of retreating, i listened to zoe's 'teenage drama' (as she calls it). but i didn't listen well.  i heard her, more than i listened, and then i began to tell her what i really thought about why she's having teenage drama, and that if she'd just chose to hang out with the girls who like her instead of the ones who don't, maybe she'd be happier.  it was not a great moment.

i did homework with jude, okay i gave him instructions for the written work, and then tested his spelling words.  even with the hot water bottle on my chest, i had no skills with his whining over why he needed to know how to spell 'saucepan' and how impossible was 'australia'. 

by the time it came to bryn, i told him i didn't know either how he should write a 5 line poem using his spelling words and when he wouldn't stop running around, i said that even though he was six, he'd better make a choice about doing his homework or not, because it wasn't me who was going to disappoint the teacher (an argument that would only work on bryn-but really should be reserved for older children, don't you think?)  

in the middle of this, i cooked eggs to quiet that whining cat, and soon i see zoe outside 'playing' with her, it turns out she was eating the eggs with the cat, out of the dirty cat food dish. oh dear. 
 
i just got crabbier. 

during dinner, which included, left over chicken, cooked veg and more eggs, we had unexpected visitors and as i was on the porch with them, and the needy dog, the kids decided to break into a singing game, resulting in the breaking of several meal time rules, like: no singing at the table, no talking with your mouthful, and the one of focusing on eating. instead of rolling with it, i put a stop to the chanting and told them to eat.  zoe just couldn't, she couldn't resist the rhyming and the laughing, but i was so done. so i grabbed her by the shirt and moved her into the kitchen to eat alone.  when she started on her third chorus of "but can't i have a second chance?" i just lost it and now comes the highlight of my day......... i ripped my tank top completely in half.  as in, i actually tore my clothes, (the next step being to put on sack cloth and ashes and make it biblical.) rose walked in to the kitchen, as i'm standing in my shredded shirt, "mommmy? did you just rip yo' shurt?" how do you explain that?  oh dear.  (the possible worst part is that i LOVED that tank top!)

i just wanted to talk to mike, and i couldn't reach him.  i just kept thinking about the next 2 weeks and i began to panic inside.  if this day, day 2 of him being away, day after a good long time of relaxing with friends, had turned into this?  oh. dear.

then i smelled some very strong menthol from the bathroom where rose and bryn were brushing teeth.  there is rosie rubbing her hands together and up and down her arms, covered in infrazone sports balm, thankfully she didn't stick her hands in her eyes, but she had almost brushed her teeth with it. doh!

at bedtime i had to apologize to everyone. at bedtime the prayers were about forgiveness, as in, me asking God for it too.  i told them i would try harder tomorrow.  rose said her 'haya (hair)' hurt like my ribs (she'd just had it plated)  her way of telling me that she understood. jude prayed that my ribs would get better, and said that it's extra hard when i'm crabby and dads away.  tell me about it.  bryn didn't demand a song because of said rib pain, but did give a good snuggle.  i found zoe out. asleep, exhausted, fully dressed, in her bed. perhaps the only right decision i made all day, was to leave her there sleeping, kiss her and whisper i'm sorry. 

i think tomorrow will be better. 
my goal is not to rip my clothes. 
i think i can do it.

not consumed

today i felt the grace. 

i awoke to mike whispering 'good bye' and saying a short prayer, then i fell back asleep to the rain.  then in came rose and jude, i could hear the whining of the puppy, and more rain. 

i breathed, 'help' before stepping out of bed.  i breathed 'help' several more times before leaving my bedroom  and while making coffee and hot chocolate.   

help me be kind, help me be loving, help me be joyful, help me be okay without my other half.

after the kids and the pets were fed and watered and dressed and brushed, i returned to the celtic book of prayer.  a place that i often return to, a place of history and wisdom, and centering and calm.  i found this for May 1st:

Can You remember who i was?
Can You still feel it?
Can You find my pain?
Can You heal it?
Then lay Your hands upon me now
and take this darkness from my soul.
Only You can light my way'
only You can make me whole once again.
                        (from Crossroads by Don Maclean)

i needed those words - words of healing and wholeness- because yesterday i felt so broken to bits.  and those words were the beginning of the grace.  then mike called from the airport and his words brought peace.  then rose and i drove to kampala to pick up bryn in a desperate rain storm, but i arrived to coffee and the kind smile and wise words of my friend ruth saying that sometimes when you've planned your visit home, only then the aching for it begins.  it came in a friend stopping in to watch the two older ones i'd left home alone.  it came in the words 'i'm sorry', which is usually the beginning of healing.  it came in the patience that my children had for me, and their laughter.  it came in several sweet emails and messages from people far away- saying that i'm not alone. 

that grace came raining down on me - because i asked for it.  because i held up my empty hands and said 'i've got nothing, please fill me'.

'yet this i call to mind and therefore i have hope, because of the Lords UNFAILING LOVE we are not consumed. '    lamentations 3