Rutabaga Dreams

While I’m at it, I might as well write something about this little one I’m carrying now.  Before I was pregnant, I knew with great certainty that I was supposed to be pregnant soon.  Nevermind that we are in the process of building a house largely by ourselves and our lives are in a considerable amount of turmoil.  I knew, unshakably, that I was supposed to be pregnant again soon.  Thankfully my husband was willing to umm…  humor me (I think against his better judgement) and when I finally became able to conceive and carry, I did.  This pregnancy has certainly made for a lot of changes - no longer was I able to work on the house as we expected, and no longer could we live in the trailer that we had planned on using.  Then there’s the midwife fees and such…  but through it all I’m really glad I’m having this child, especially since I know I’m supposed to be having him or her.  I’ve often wondered in idle moments why this is the case - it really is a matter of intellectual exercise, since I know this is unknowable, and that fact really doesn’t bother me in the least - but still I wonder occasionally all the same.  Is it because of what I’ve learned about submission, my limitations, and what my calling really is?  (hint, it doesn’t have anything to do with construction) Or is this because of what it has shown in our marriage - namely that we aren’t equal, and we shouldn’t try to consider ourselves as such?  Or is it because of the child and who this person is going to be?  Or perhaps some combination of everything already mentioned as well as other completely unfathomable considerations?  I know earlier in my life this would have really eaten away at me - I would either have not submitted, letting logic overrule, or I would have let the wondering overtake everything.  Now though, I can look at it as a curiosity, but not as something that overwhelms me.  I may wonder at why, but I have no need to find out why.  Maybe this stubborn individualist is really learning something about submission after all.

I was laying with Gregory tonight waiting for him to fall asleep and I found myself falling into a familiar line of thought. No, it wasn’t “how long is it going to take before I can sneak out of here” (although I will admit that is a somewhat familiar refrain as well) but rather I was thinking about how I view Gregory differently from Emma. Gregory seems so much less mine than Emma does, and he always has. Granted, none of my children are really mine, they are both gifts from God and their own persons and I can’t ultimately claim credit for or ownership of them. But somehow this is different with Gregory than it is with Emma. I have a sense that if he says yes and follows God’s Will, he is going to end up commited very strongly away from me. I’m not sure what this means, although I’ve felt it since he was born. Somehow I think this means more than the usual way that sons leave their mothers as they grow and begin their own lives.  I sometimes find myself playing a game of sorts, wondering what this means. Foreign missionary? Holy Orders? And in my more morbid moments, early death?

When I was pregnant with Gregory I remember reading the story of Hannah and Samuel for the first time (I’m a convert, remember) and I was really moved by it. I cried to think of this woman asking God for a child and then promising to return him to the Lord.

In bitterness of soul Hannah wept much and prayed to the LORD. And she made a vow, saying, “O LORD Almighty, if you will only look upon your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the LORD for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I understood why she would want to have this child if she was going to hand him back to the Lord, to be in His service at that temple for the rest of his life. I wasn’t sure I understood the point of it all, at least from her perspective. Sure, there’s the cessation of the social stigma from being considered barren, but I think there is far more to it than that. She’s participating in God’s Creation in an unique way, and I now think that it is far better to be able to join with God in this, even if she didn’t get the joy of raising her son to adulthood, than never to have done so at all.  Even though she knew she would have that incredible pain that comes of separating from her child, she still wanted to bring this child into the world.  Hannah ended up getting to keep Samuel for several years, raising him until he was old enough to be useful in the temple.  She also went on to have more children.  I wonder though, did she find herself treating Samuel differently than the others, because she knew she wouldn’t have him for as long?  Was she more patient with him, delighting in him more than the others?

I know I do that sometimes with Gregory, although I pray to see all my children with the same amount of wonder and amazement.

When we were making our nametags at faith formation, my little extrovert struck up a conversation with the woman who was standing at the table and greeting people.  They chatted for a bit, and Emma asked her if she wanted to know her two favorite stories about Jesus’ life.  The woman of course said yes, and Emma talked Jesus’ birth and resurrection.  They talked a bit more about this, then we went in for dinner.  Towards the end of the evening (it was an intergenerational event, so we all stayed in the same room for the whole evening rather than splitting up after dinner) Emma saw that woman again when she was coming back from the restroom.  I saw Emma talking with her from across the room, but didn’t think much of it.  A little later on, the woman came over to complement me on my articulate and friendly daughter.  She wanted to complement me and to tell me that she so impressed by Emma’s ability to converse and also with her story-telling ability.  It seems Emma was relating to her one of her favorite stories about Jesus and when the woman complemented her on how well she knew the story, Emma said, “well, that’s because my mom is raising me Catholic.”  The woman was really taken with how excited Emma was about the story and how she just glowed as she told it.  When she related all this to me, well, I just started crying.  For a convert who always feels a step behind and who often feels so alone in her efforts it just made me feel so thankful that my paltry attempts at passing on the faith seem to be bearing some fruit.  I know I can’t take much credit for it though - I know who is really making this possible.  But I am so thankful I can be part of this process of watching and helping my little girl come to Christ.

My least favorite part of day to day parenting has to be the whole bathing thing.  I enjoy watching them play in the water, but I loathe the whole “I’m going to scream like you’re pulling my limbs off just because you’re washing my hair” and the water on the floor and wet towels and the mess the whole experience always seems to require.  And why oh why does it all have to take so long?  If I try to hurry them through and just get them washed, they act like I’m impinging on their rights to a fun bathing experience and they are far more recalcitrant when it is time to do it all over again.  And this isn’t just the two year old I’m talking about here!

I find it exhausting, and I wish there was a better way.  Maybe I need to do some Google searches and see if I can find some pointers on how to make this a less tiring and less water-soaked experience for me.  Has anyone else figured out how to make this more managable?

I find this point in pregnancy rather contradictory.  On one hand, I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever and will continue to be pregnant forever, and on the other I’m starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel as I gather birth supplies and consider the logistics of having a new little person in our family.  I’m looking forward to not feeling so huge and awkward, but I’m also constantly remembering that even with all that, the baby is a lot easier to take care of this way than after he or she is born!  I become officially eligible for a homebirth on May 10th, and while I don’t expect to give birth for probably another month after that, it shows just how close I’m getting to the end of this pregnancy.

I guess that means we should probably figure out a name for this little one and dig out the baby clothes from storage, don’t you think?  

I got to learn how to pull wire and wire electrical boxes.  Yay!  It is nice to be able to help with the house now that everything doesn’t require lots of strength.  This afternoon after church I’m going to help Matt wire the master bedroom.  Once that’s done we’ll have all the bedrooms wired for plugs.  We still have to wire switches and the ceiling fans in the bedrooms, and plugs and lights  downstairs…  but progress is being made.  Slow progress this month, but progress nonetheless.

The other thing I did yesterday (besides Quicken *sigh*) was homeschool planning.  Now I’m a planner at heart, so I find this stuff fun.  I was inspired by a recent series on the Simply Charlotte Mason site about planning and I decided to start my own spreadsheet to start outlining what subjects I think are important at various points.  The purpose isn’t to spend a lot of time figuring out resources and such, but rather to figure out what is important overall, and when which subjects should be taught.  Then once you have the general overview figured out, you can on a yearly basis or so revise this overview as needed and figure out resources you need for the next year.  The authors also give some helpful hints on how to break down the yearly goals into workable terms, weeks, and even days.  Now that I have two years of homeschooling about under my belt, I feel like this is a good next step for me to take.  I’ve been thinking ahead anyways, and it is nice to put it all down and see how it all flows (or doesn’t!) together.

As I mentioned last week, I wanted to try to do a little more drawing. I’m particularly interested in nature study drawing, so to that end, we went out on the property the Friday before last and did a little spring study. I meant to post this a little sooner, but I kept forgetting the camera in the car and, well, I guess I was being lazy.

I’m not entirely happy with how this post turned out - I think I don’t fully understand the gallery feature for WordPress. Either that or it doesn’t do what I think it should do. If you click on the picture you’ll get a somewhat bigger version, then you can click again and get an even bigger one. However, there’s no navigation between them, which I find odd. I tried to set it up to go straight to the bigger picture, but that didn’t seem to work. Hmm. I also would like to rearrange the pictures, but that doesn’t seem possible.

I love (generally *ahem*) how the mimic each other.  For example, today at the store:

Emma:  Look at that daarling chair!

Gregory:  Look daarling tractor!

Although I’m forseeing some potential for trouble when the baby is born, as evidenced by this exchange.

Emma (cuddling on my lap):  I love my mommy.

Gregory (coming over and leaning into me):  My mommy!

Emma:  No, she’s my mommy too!

Gregory:  No, my mommy!  Gregory sit in mommy’s lap.  Push push (as he tries to push Emma out of my lap)

Emma (as I readjust and make room for them both, and pull Gregory into my lap):  See, she’s both of our mommy.

Gregory proceeds to cuddle into me and glares at Emma all the while.

Hmm…  this should be interesting.

During our big shopping trip down to all the big box stores this afternoon I had a couple of funny things happen.

First, in a restroom at Wal-Mart (can  you believe this was the first time I’ve been in a Wal-Mart Superstore?  I know, how un-American) I was waiting in line with Gregory and Emma.  A small herd of blond and light brown-haired children ranging in age from about 20 mo. to 10 piled in behind us, and started waiting patiently.  A woman came out of the stall, took a look at the eight children clustered around me and then one at my big pregnant belly and remarked, “Well, someone certainly has her hands full!”  I just smiled and nodded graciously, trying not to laugh.  I will most likely never be a mom to nine, but it was kind of fun and amusing to feel like one for a moment at least! 

The second funny thing that happened was at Lowe’s.  I was walking down one of the aisles and a man took one look at me, pointed at my belly, and laughed.  It was a nice laugh, but all the same that seemed a bit much.  Really, I don’t think I’m that huge!

OK, now I need to go and figure out how to put all this food from Winco into my little pantry area.  The upshot is that I shouldn’t have to buy much more than fruits and vegetables for the next two months.

I paid $3.799 per gallon for 87 octane gasoline yesterday. Sheesh. Is gas this expensive everywhere, or am I just extra lucky because I live in semi-rural Northern CA? And this wasn’t even at Shell or Exxon - gas costs even more there!

It does make me very glad that I’m going to be able to drive my little car for another year or so before I have to move to a minivan that will get 8+ fewer miles per gallon. (that’s an awkward sentence, isn’t it)