Otherness

When I was in Middle School, my bus took the high school wrestlers to the Elementary school for practice. One guy always came on with a bag the size of a small pony. Because of the size of the bag, he ended up sitting up front instead of in the back with the other wrestlers. One day, I mustered up the courage to ask him what was in the bag. He deadpanned, "A dead body." My 6th grade self responded with all the shock and confusion that I'm sure he hoped to get. Recently that image has been brought to mind & I can't shrug off how I still am that person asking straightforward questions that seem to get me answers that are much more than I bargained for.

Yesterday Ray Renner gave the messasge at church. He's my favorite of "the retired pastors" who have been preaching in our pastor-less time. He said something that jarred me out of my seat. Ray was discussing the way world religions attempt to honor Jesus but deny the resurrection. Ray said, "You can not take part of Jesus' teaching and throw out the resurrection". "Right, right, I've heard that before", I thought and rummaged in my purse. And then he said something that really caught my breath in my chest: He said that those who don't believe in the resurrection of Jesus still have the guilt of all their sin.

At each Easter and communion service in my 30+ years of being a believe, I think about Jesus bearing my sin. But I have never thought about trying to bear my own sin. It just never really came to mind before. And Ray shocked my out of looking for my lipgloss when he said this. It was so difficult to think about that I just ignored it yesterday. But today in avoiding my true responsibilities, I cleaned out my Inbox during lunch. I've been getting newsletters from Mary DeMuth for a few weeks. Somehow I stumbled upon Mary DeMuth's blog recently. She sent out a chapter of her new book "Everything," which somehow Google thought should go in my "Important Messages" instead of junk mail. In the first chapter she discusses how God is "Other" than us. She talks about how Jesus' disciples were always baffled by Jesus, that he never did the thing that they expected him to do.

I think I strive to be other-like. I strive to not do the supposed "Christian" thing. I would say that I don't want to "fit a mold." Or be "judgmental." Lately I've taken to describing it as being "Gen X" of me. The result - non-condemning conversations with my post-christian friend over her love life. Supporting same-sex marriage. Voting Democrat. I identify myself as a christian, but I do not subscribe to modern christian social dogma. My friends are no longer "church friends" for the first time in my life. All this to say, DeMuth's discussion of  God's "otherness" really resonated with me. Jesus' disciples were surprised by his resurrection. Even that was "other" of him, unexpected, and really unwelcome. They wanted a political king, not a spiritual one.

Jesus' Otherness was not to attention seeking or ironic. He was both God and Man. He is the Word and is God. I do not have to ascribe to the Christian culture answers to questions in order to be honoring God. But if I am just trying to be cool and obtuse, then I miss out on the freedom with which I am allowed to live in. My other-ness needs to be rooted in a knowledge that I am free to think and believe as the Spirit leads. And in doing so, I leave the weight of my sin at the feet of Jesus. If my Otherness is to gain cool points or to wrestle against my calling, well then, I have just picked up a sack heavier than I can carry.

Which brings me the wrestling bag on the bus in 6th grade. Sin is heavier than that body bag.  Jesus will take it away. I think the only wrestling I do is to attempt to grab that bag back, not wanting to be a burden. But Jesus took the weight of my sin because he has the ability to bear it. While I can't even lift the bag, he not only can but WANTS to take my bag. It's a burden that he can bear easily. If only I will let him.

Encouraging Director

In High School, my best friend subscribed to an inordinate number of fashion magazines - not teen fashion, but for real fashion magazines. Many an afternoon was spent pouring over those magazines. Whenever there was a quiz in one, we were quick to whip out our pens to determine our "type".

I'm really no different now! I love taking test, assessments and evaluations. I am really surprised at how well this one has me pegged. Here are my results for being an "Encouraging Director" My personalDNA Report.
I especially love when tips to stretch yourself are included in the assessment. This one encouarges me to spend some time alone, a goal of mine! It says:
"While you are an expert at getting the most out of the world and taking advantage of many experiences, you might gain some insight by taking the time to be alone, reflect on things, or just observe the goings-on in the world."

How do you feel about taking online tests? Post your results in the comments!

ProResources

Dear Jim Golm,

Fifteen years ago with the ink still wet on my Ball State University diploma, I began my professional career at ProResources. I am writing because on a regular basis I still apply business principles that you taught me while I worked for ProResources.

I was hired by MidAmerica Temporary Agency in July of 1998. I read the employee handbook during the 3 weeks between being hired and starting work, and was utterly dismayed by the rules set out in their “employee handbook.” I was flustered to find that ProResources bought MidAmerica the week before I started! However, reading through the ProResources Employee Handbook was a breath of fresh air--the policies of ProResources were in stark contrast, a welcome relief.

That first introduction to ProResources was no fluke: the employee policies, the manner in which customers were treated, and the methods for wooing temporary workers were all in line with a philosophy of treat others BETTER than you expect to be treated.  I am very thankful that my first professional job was at ProResources.

Three business principles that you taught me are still cornerstones to my professional life today. They are:

1) Bring presents. No matter what, when you go see a client always bring a small token of thanks for their business. Periodically bring large presents!

2) Don’t make excuses. No one cares why you did something wrong. All they want to know is how you’re going to fix it.

3) Never ever let a client know that you are busy working for another client. Do everything in your power to make EVERY client think they are your Number One client.

. I only worked for ProResources for 2 years, but those 2 years were critical in my development as a professional. We are all selling something. Even though I have worked for non-profits for the past 13 years, I still use these principles of sales and business management in my work on a weekly, if not daily, basis.

Thank you Jim for treating people with dignity, for running a business that was fun to work for, and for investing your time in the lowest person on the totem pole. Because of your good leadership, I am a better worker.

Fondly,

Sue (McCrory) Godfrey

Endurance

I have been running for the past 2 months. Six a.m.-ish I meet 2 friends and run. Well, I jog. Actually, jogging is an exaggeration: more accurately,

I plod.

And I usually plod along about 1/8th of a mile behind my partners. However, it feels like a big accomplishment to get out of bed, to hit the trail and to feel different. I've noticed that while my clothes don't even fit me differently, that my attitude about myself has improved.

We added strength training to our routine this week, and I'm sore this morning. I wanted to stay in bed. I wanted to give up. But I didn't. I plodded, greeted by an elderly gentleman who addressed me with "Hello Early Bird!" as he plodded by me. I felt a kinship, and was encouraged to keep plodding. But after he passed me, my short memory and exhausted mind encouraged me to give up. I was reminded of Paul's words "Let us run with endurance the race set before us so that we will not grow weary and lose heart." It made me think that the difference between enduring and giving up is losing heart, believing that failure is inevitable.

Once I commited myself to not losing heart, then I started to get frustrated by the idea of "running the race set before me." In my morning runs, I know what road is set before me. I've run it before. So on my trail run/plod, I can understand what endurance means. But when this statement takes a metaphorical turn, then I have a real problem with the "race set before me." I have no idea what the future holds. It seems more uncertain to me today than it has in a very long time. But this morning, as I plodded along- way behind my partners- I was reminded: I know what to do today and tomorrow and the next day. I just need to do it.

Running the race that is set before me is my job right now. I may not know what's beyond the corner ahead, but that fact doesn't change today at all. The unknown isn't yet set before me. What's set for today is understood.

So I'd better get to it! Wish me luck!

Help

I get a weekly newsletter from the President of the Indiana Associations of United Ways. It is a mix of helpful tips, things to think about and general silliness. In an organization that can tend toward taking itself too seriously, I appreciate this mix.

This gem was in today's newsletter:

One Piece of Advice

Who can resist the request, “Can you help me?”  Most of us get caught up in showing we are competent and able to do our job, but the United Way job is about getting other people engaged in the work.  United Way work is not about going early, staying late and doing as much as possible ourselves.  We must have the confidence to ask others to help, not because we can’t, but because asking is a strength.  Ask for a specific task that is obviously achievable.  Then start with, “Can you help us?” 

I wonder: Do we think of asking for help as a strength? 

When I work late, it's as often because I became paralyzed during my work day as it is being truly busy. The paralysis sets in when I am putting myself to new and possibly insurmountable tasks. So asking for help would be pitiful, akin to my children's whiny "I caaaannnnn'tttt DOOOOO it." 

But would it? And when I'm overwhelmed, whether it's because of fear paralysis or truly having too much to do, I never think that asking for help will be the solution. Working harder seems to always be the solution. 

So I need help: in transforming how I think about help. And in getting out of my paralysis. 

The thought that the solution is so easy as asking for help is great. However, how does one know whom to ask? 

The permission to ask, and the advice that asking is strength cause a paradigm shift that is one I would like to embrace. 

Do you think of asking for help as strength?

Wondering...

At a Christmas party, I was talking to my dear friend Emily. Emily's really good at so many things & I'm really fond of her. She started my beloved book club and was my pal in grad school (which she completed and I have not). 

She mentioned (as an aside, I might add) that a friend of hers from college makes $160,000 a year working as a grant writer for an educational supports company. I was floored. I would LOVE to make that kind of money, but mostly I was floored because one of my bucket list items is to become a full-fledged successful grant writer. 

I either asked with my shocked look or the actual words,"Over $100,000 a year as a grant writer!?!" 

Emily replied, "Oh, she writes grants to help schools who want to use her company's products find the funds to purchase them." 

Emily's offhand statement about her friend got me thinking: My job is to find community needs and gaps in services and then work to fill those gaps. My job requires seeking and procuring grants. I love to help people find solutions to their desires & needs. Heck, I could DO a job like THAT!? I know that there are no jobs like that in Muncie, but what about in Indy. Could I set my sights higher than where I am.

And then I've been approached recently about several grant opportunities locally. I've been planning, strategizing and gap-filling in all my free time. I'm working to learn more about non-profit work and once again asking myself if I want to go for the degree that I've half-completed-- what I call "An MBA for non-profits" or if I would actually like to complete an MBA from a REAL business school. 

As I work on my "40 before 40" list (inspired by Heather Sari Miles), these issues really come to the front of my mind. Completing my Master's Degree AND writing successful grant applications are two on my list.

This former Career Counselor keeps asking career questions, but not finding any answers.

Love Alone

from Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas
January 6th reading is a poem by Gian Carlo Menotti

Love Alone

The Child we seek
doesn't need our gold
On love, on love alone
he will build his kingdom.
His pierced hand will hold no scepter,
his haloed head will wear no crown;
his might will not be built
on your toil.
Swifter than lightning
he will soon walk among us.
He will bring us new life
and receive our death,
and the keys to his city
belong to the poor.

Happily Ever After

I found this poem I wrote a few years ago while cleaning today. It seems worthy of dusting off & sending into the Intraweb.

An Ode to my True Love on the back of a School Announcement
Or Why Fairy Tales are bunk and True Love cleans the Kitchen

I never believed that Disney understood True Love.
As a child, the Tramp seemed trampy and Lady deceived.
But of course I was moved by the spaghetti.
Weren't you?

My skepticism continued, tainting all the trashy romance novels thieved from my Mother's bookshelf.
Scoffing at the silliness with my whole 75% of my heart,
Convinced I'd live a life more savvy and urbane
than the available media provided.

Heart-throbbing aside and knee deep in adulthood,
Discovery discloses
that one of the Sexiest things a man can do
Is feed the kids breakfast.

My worry used to be regarding attraction,
But as our waistlines grow, so does my continued affection.
Our commitment can be credited as much to arguments as vows,
to secret concession than sexy trysts.

Because, my dear, our love is about the way our lives are irrevocably intwined,
Like ivy on bricks:
We could get rid of it, but it would be temporary and leave scars.
I'd much rather tame and train the beast that is our love.

With the compassion used for training an elephant
Powerful enough to pull away, but content to let the weak chain
Tether him to the spot he prefers.

I like to think of myself as the ball and chain
you choose
From joy not from concession.

Because the only thing Harlequin and Disney have in common
is that the romance ends
when the Happily Ever After begins.

Learning

Yesterday I attended the Indiana Conference on Learning put on by the Indiana Student Achievement Association. I went as a partner in the Delaware County College Success Coalition. Really, my boss is a partner of the CSC, but she couldn't go. I'm so glad I went.

Mike Mattos, the Keynote speaker, was inspirational. I arrived late (two accidents on 69, anyone?? Arg!), so I didn't hear his introduction or the Official Welcome from the State Superintendent. My introduction was a question, "What are your educational aspirations for your children?" As I settled into my seat, others discussed the question and wrote down answers. When everyone had finished he asked, "How many wrote that your child would be competent in the State Standards?" The tone in the room changed when he posed that question: There were a few embarrassed chuckles, some distinct shifting in seats and glances aside. The teachers at my table almost hung their heads in embarrassment  when he asked the crowd, "For how many of you is that your school's aspiration for their students?"
 
It is really eye opening to go into a conference where the assumption (by the audience) is that everyone there is an educator. It was like the gloves were off, and the true attitude of teachers toward parents was revealed, I suspect because it was a "safe" environment. One break-out session was lead by a state Department of Education staff person. She was presenting a new law regarding Graduation Plans; her attitude seemed to be that "we MUST deal with parents but since they are in-adequate deadbeats, we can't expect much from them," AND "I know you all [teachers] only want to do the minimum to observe the law." I went to the session thinking that this would be a marvelous tool to help students and parents know what their working towards. It might be, but it certainly wasn't pitched as such.

In another break-out session I attended, entitled "Home Visits and Other Parent Involvement Strategies," the snide comments were a dime a dozen. The well-dressed middle-aged woman sitting next to me kept leaning over making, "who are they kidding" kind of remarks. I suspect she mistook me for a teacher. If she had known that I fit more under the demographic of "parent" than "educator" I purport she would not have been so conspiratorial nor talked so openly about the impossibilities of the strategies presented. Which have had such radical success in a small urban elementary school in Kentucky that uses approximately $1,000 less per student than other elementary schools in the same district! This school has achieved success - almost 80% of their students pass state standards - using less money. Because they've changed their school culture. That isn't what their presentation was about, but it was apparent from the team of teachers and the principal that were present.

Later in the opening Keynote, Mattos showed a study done by the Pew Charitable Foundation that quantified the number of instructional hours it would take to teach all the federally-mandated standards. What The Pew Foundation found is that to meet the current standards it would take approximately two thousand additional instructional hours over the course of students' school careers: an impossible standard. (Incidentally, to add 2,000 instructional hours to a student's school career would be adding approximately 24 instructional days to a school calendar: from 180 to 204. Making this change would surely press schools toward year round school. Something I think needs to happen anyway. I digress...) So teachers are being asked - nee mandated - to work toward impossible standards.

I wonder if ALL of us - parents, teachers, community members - are working toward unattainable goals. How could our students not fail if we're all failing all around them? Of course teachers are frustrated and throwing blame around - they've been asked to do an impossible job. So I'm going to cut them some slack. I'm going to change my attitude toward teachers and forgive those neigh-sayers. They're just trying to stay afloat. Well, so am I. So I get that.


Believing that all children can learn is the place to start. I believe if we adopted a new paradigm that change could happen: If we as a community started to believe that ALL CHILDREN can learn, then I think we would see more students succeed. If non-educators started asking for whole-scale reform instead of trying to figure out which teachers are good and bad, then we might get somewhere. As it is, teachers and parents are all working really hard toward similar goals, but in different directions. We need to start thinking MORE about how to all be on the same team, working toward the same goals than trying to blame bad teachers, bad unions or bad parents. If we all think our kids can learn and act that way, maybe we can begin to make some progress.

My next step toward progress: I'm going to be a mentor. Project Leadership matches adults with students enrolled in the 21st Century Scholars program. I'm committing to mentoring a college-bound high school student once a week. I can't do a lot, but I can do a little. Maybe you should think about doing that too!

Loss

I have a secret to tell you. Let's keep it just between the two of us, ok?

I don't know what I'm doing.

I know this comes as a surprise to you. I do my best to come across confident and certain, but often I'm giving life my best guess. I'm lost. I'm often at a loss.

Loss and lost. They are both from the same etymological root of either the Greek word lyein "to loosen, untie, slacken," or the Old English word  losian meaning to"be lost, perish." Other options are that it might be from Proto-Indo-European root leu which means "to loosen, divide, cut apart, untie, separate." Harkening from these roots are: forlorn, analysis, paralysis and - everyone's favorite - electrolysis.

It's helpful for me to look at this list, to think about the age-old connections these words have. When I get lost - whether I'm lost on my feet, in my car or in my brain - I become paralyzed. Cut apart from rational thought. Lose the ability to take action. Lost. Action perishes. To become UN-lost, what do I try to do: analyze why I'm stuck. But in analysis, just like paralysis, the action is inaction. The action of analyze is to sit still & think a little more. Still lost.

Yesterday I was sitting at a coffee shop. While enjoying a cup of tea with a co-worker/friend, we were gently interrupted by a nice older woman of nondescript age. After she left, my friend leaned in conspiratorially to say, "Can you believe she's over 70!? She's a marvel."

My friend continued, "Her father died several years ago and was buried near Kokomo. When her husband and daughter were returning to Muncie from the funeral, they were in a car accident. Both of them died."

I'm stricken. See, my loss and lostness is very circumstantial. A product of my lack of vision, of my lack of clarity. But true lost-ness comes in situations like that dear woman survived. Burying a husband, daughter and father in the same week. Lost. Loss. Losing. I know nothing of any of it. So instead of analyzing why I'm stuck, I'm just going to stand up and move. I figure I'll get un-lost in the process.

Reading, wRiting and 'Rithmatic

One year for Christmas I received a box, a paper box, the kind that offices get with 10 reams of paper. In it were 7 (or is it 8?) hard bound books, brand new with their crisp pages and shiny sleeves, lovingly wrapped in pink and yellow tissue paper. I remember opening that box in wonder, carefully extracting each of Laura Ingalls Wilder's books, enraptured. The following weeks and months my love of reading was solidified, as I wandered the Big Woods and the Banks of Plum Creek. I read them slowly that year.

However, in 5th grade, I re-devoured them. A week was spent in a cloud - I shivered during the Long Winter and experienced the flutter of new love riding way too fast with Alonzo in his buggy. I despised him as he spent money and wasted Laura's toil on the Homestead. "Susie, SUSIE," my mom called, but I didn't answer: I was no longer Susie. If she'd have called "Laura, LAURA," I'm sure I'd have come running. Awake until all hours of the night with a flashlight under the covers, I then spent the next day in school with the book on my lap, reading at every opportunity*. (*Really, it's the only time I remember willingly disobeying the rules.)

Reading is my favorite escape. But I haven't been reading lately. I've a stack of articles and books on my desk and in my handbag. I take them from work to home, home to work, and back again. Just as the barren years of college when I read neither for work or pleasure, I am again finding myself too overwhelmed with work to enter into the joy of reading, but too tired of it all to bring myself back to work when I can rest. I despise this time in the waste-land of not reading. I'm never sure what starts this barrenness of input, but I don't like it a'tall.

Capacity

My work involves a lot of talk about the word "capacity." Does an organization have capacity for greater utilization? Would additional funding allow the capacity of an organization to grow? Does an organization have the capacity to assist another? And on and on it goes, the talk not about the ability or desire but if all the tools are in place for success.

This talk of capacity has infiltrated my real life also. I now look at requests for our time and money in terms of our capacity: I ask, "Do we have the capacity to say yes to a birthday party?" instead of asking, "Is there anything already scheduled for that time?" It becomes less about our desire to do something and more about what we are capable of doing given our resources. It's actually been very freeing to start saying yes (and no) to requests based upon my understanding of our family's capacity.

Currently, we The Godfreys, are at capacity. We have as many routine activities as is reasonable for us to undertake. We want to be more involved in other things, but alas, we can not because we've reached capacity.

When I took my new job, I decided that one of the best ways to extend my capacity to care for our kids was to hire an afternoon nanny. We have the most wonderful girl in the world taking care of the kids most afternoons. Sarah is just lovely in spirit, she helps with the house, she cares for the kids well, she often helps with dinner, really she's just about as good as it gets. However, she often is unable to come. At least once a week, it seems, she has something come up that makes her unable to come as previously arranged. And by previously arranged, I mean the set schedule of 4 afternoons a week.

So this morning, as the Check Engine Light came on, I was talking to Sarah about her attendance. I asked her to not send me text messages calling off work. I asked her to determine if her schedule had reached capacity and if she has, ahem, the capacity to commit to caring for my kids. I tried to heap on the compliments, because truly, she's a marvel when she's at our house. However, I do not have the capacity to drum up a new sitter once or twice a week.

So I feel bad that her blind friend might miss being at her Grandma's bedside in time to say "goodbye" for lack of a ride from Sarah today, since I brow-beat her into working tonight. I feel bad that I had to say, "we LOVE having you, but if you can't commit to being here, we'll find someone who can."

I'm putting into action the things that I've learned in counseling, to take people at their word and to mean what I say. It is my responsibility to ask for what I want directly and to allow the other person to respond according to their needs and capacity. I just need to reply to the words. And that truly is all I have the capacity for anymore.

Working

I have a new job. It is largely undefined and amorphic as yet. So up until now, I've been reading and gathering information. I am about to explode with all of this new information. And so much of it is really interesting, so I thought I would share it with you. All four of you who follow me. Smile.

I am working via a grant from the Indiana Associations of United Ways called 4Community2. 4 Community [1, implied] served our county with a clunky nary-used online database for social service agencies to share information. I was a lot of work for an unwieldly project & I see sweat creep across my dear boss' brow when she speaks about it for long.

4 Community2's goals are to provide a neighborhood-based Single Point of Access for services. "What exactly does that mean, Sue?" you ask. Well, I'm so glad you asked. I've learned over the past few weeks that I am merely a channel for bringing about change. Initially, the plan is to work in schools to bring local services and agencies who already provide services out to the county schools and/or into under-served schools and/or neighborhoods in the city of Muncie as well. The grant is funding, among other things, my position as a Community Organizer of Sorts and a new position at Open Door Health Services for an Enrollment Specialist. What I'm finding as I study and research for my job is that there are lots of people interested in this idea, and each person I speak with wants to move the process forward faster than the last. It makes the amorphic and undefined nature of my position infuriating to both myself and the people with whom I speak.

I am reading and gathering information and thinking a lot, but I haven't found an appropriate outlet for what I'm reading. I'm not sure if blogging about it is the best way to process it? But I'm thinking it might be. As of right now I have 4 blog posts in some level of undress/ unpreparedness where I'm trying to work out what I think.

So I guess it begs the question, do you want to join me in working out what I'm thinking or should I just keep it to myself?

A really boring rambly post about child care

I have spent the better part of the past three weeks researching child care options for my kids. An after school option for the older two and an all day option for Hank. What I'm finding in the process is that we really want a tailor-made child care provider and would be best served if we could find a full time nanny. I think. I have such a hard time deciding. And I feel inappropriately responsible for other people's well-being and livelihood, so it makes deciding all the more difficult as I enter all those factors in. Ugh.

The older two have the school sponsored "Latch Key" program offered after school until 5:30 that is a viable, albeit not preferred option. (E learned a lot of things that as a Kindergartner he should not have been exposed to during his tenure there last year. I do not relish the same happening for Mags.) So while I'd prefer them to have a different option than Latch Key, it is sufficient. Therefore, for the time being this will be our solution. Not my favorite & I hope not long term, but doesn't require much else because there just really are not many other options.

Hank has options - lots and lots of options. (To the point I'm overwhelmed and going to write a ridiculously long blog post about it.)  There's the "Church Sponsored Day Care Center" option, high on Herd O' Cattle tendencies. Then there's the "In Home Day Care" options that are high on personal idiosyncrasies of the provider. There are a lot of "PreSchool/ Day Care" (PSDC for short. giggle.) combo options also, but most of those have special requirements for being potty-trained and/or 3 years old. Henry is not either. Which should rule all those out.

However, we keep returning to the PSCD because one of my illustrious neighbor has an in-home PreSchool/Day Care that Henry was enrolled in for the fall. It's just that he never actually went there due to my quick exit from my former job. This PSCD has both requirements, but also a loophole, which calls for accepting a child who is potty-trained when school starts and will be 3 by Thanksgiving (Hank fulfills the latter, but fails miserably at the former). In August the PSCD neighbor called for my final decision on Hank's attendance & I was not prepared. I said yes out of fear of rudeness, lack of planning and wishful thinking (my mother-in-law had promised to take him for a week and return him potty trained), but didn't feel sure of my answer. I went to the "Parent Night" and was flakey. We left early. We failed to show on the First Day of School.  All of those reasons enough to make me want to move out of the neighborhood and never see them again.

However, tonight I called the PSCD neighbor (mostly because I was told by another neighbor that it would be rude not to call. "They'll see your car is gone" being implied). I had a long discussion on potty-training methods with PSCD teacher. I ended the conversation saying I wasn't sure it was a good fit & I'd talk with my husband about it and let her know. I must admit, I don't want Hank to go there not because it's not a great day care, but because I pften leave conversations with said neighbor feeling condescended to, the recipient of advice in areas that I don't desire assistance. It's not her fault, I realize, it's mine: Obviously I haven't potty-trained Hank because I'm lazy and undisciplined. If I would only apply myself to this task, it would work itself out. So now I sit, yet again at the crossroads of diapers-forever & potty training & I do not want to take the road to potty training.  I do believe that I could assert myself to the task of potty training this week and spend the entire of my waking energy focused on that OR I can enjoy my last week before returning to work and continue to buy diapers, even though I know my son is developmentally able to control his bladder and sphincter enough to choose when to use the toilet. Why must I not potty train him and continue in my selfish use of time this week? What is wrong with me?

I keep thinking about what a nice place it would be for Henry to be. It's orderly, organized and run by someone who loves Jesus. There are only 4 kids there. It's really fabulous. I want to send him there. I want to put the big kids on the bus then walk Hank to the neighbor's house and be done with my childcare responsibilities every day at 7:45am. Bada boom, bada bing! It's the cheapest place I've looked at, as well! I can't figure out if I'm uncomfortable with Henry going there, uncomfortable with feeling talked down-to by the sitter or if I just plain don't want to be that enmeshed with the neighbors. I want to want him to go there. But I don't.

I have also found a nice place for Hank about 10 minutes north of here. It's a friend of a friend, a really trustworthy lady who by herself manages 10 kids. Well, my son would be the 10th. We went for a while today & it was quite amazing. She somehow managed really well, making 10 kids not seem like 10 kids. It truly was remarkable to watch & I think it would be a great place for Hank. I'm not without reservations about the "census" there (day care speak for number of kids), but somehow I just feel good about it. It has my favorite things in a day care: lunch provided, no potty-training requirement and a non-judgemental caregiver. That just feels so shallow of me to articulate, and yet I do feel that way.

Another piece of this puzzle is that we really would like to find a nanny. We haven't advertised our desire that way, yet, but it is becoming our preference. The No Potty place would not mind us coming for a while and then changing our mind. Her financial future does not hang in the balance whether or not we come. I like that. And the PSDC place closes at 5pm each day, when I finish work - no buffer time. I just don't like not having a buffer.

So I'm going with my gut. I'm going with "Latchama Key" as Mags calls it & the No Potty Place. I'm ok with that for now. And I don't have sick days or Fall Break or Spring Break worked out yet. But that will come as it comes, I think.  And that's that.

Decisions

Life is full of decisions.  Cornell researchers have found that people make over 200 decisions PER DAY just regarding food!

Most days we make mundane decisions with barely a thought: when to get out of bed, when to go to the bathroom, when to sneeze, when to go to bed, what store to shop at. Even what foods we buy and which clothes in our wardrobe we wear become routine. The choice becomes less of a decision than a habit. As choices become habits, they barely get our cognitive attention, because they are rote. When we decide to change a behavior, decisions that are usually rote come to the front of our consciousness and receive more profound attention.

This, I believe, is why change is so emotionally taxing.

When we decide to change ONE thing in our lives, it disrupts our routines. Many mundane or rote decisions must get more of our cognitive attention, thereby creating more decisions. What in the routine of life is a foregone conclusion must be decided in a new way when our lives are sent out of order. This, I believe is the case when someone decides to do anything different be it deciding to diet, add an exercise routine, or even just join a new group or club. But enter a BIG change - moving or job change, a new child or a marriage - and your life is sent into a new gear. Additional choices are required while our brains reset to our "new normal."

It's been six weeks now that I've not been working. Job change is a BIG change, I believe. I've developed a routine by accident in this time and find that I'm not exactly using my time as I would prefer. I love the structure that routine affords me, and I find myself adrift when it's lacking. So the one decision - to quit my job- leads to a plethora of decisions I wasn't anticipating.

I have to remember that I'm not stuck. Be reminded that my new, albeit accidental, routine is not set in stone and decide to DECIDE on how my time will be spent, what my priorities are and how I will choose to invest my energies. Today I'm deciding to decide.

Happenstance isn't a choice. Serendipity is foolish. But choosing has both intrinsic and incidental rewards. So today I'm resetting. Renewing. Re-deciding.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Stu often tells people that we have two boys and "a middle princess."

She's as cute as cute can be, that middle princess. Somehow she already has a figure most 20 year olds would kill for, beautiful straight hair that is naturally the color Jennifer Aniston  pays $1,000s to create. And her sense of style is killer - carefully mixing and matching items from her wardrobe with the aplomb of a stylist. Owning four pairs of shoes apparently isn't enough. (She's five mind you!)  Recently she told me, "Mom, I don't have enough shoes."

Plus she's darling: fluffing her hair at men and giggling behind her hand with the other girls. Honestly, she's an enigma to me - where did she come from - already beautiful, confident and decisive at five years old.

With all these good qualities it would seem, dear reader, that every day is roses with our dear Mugsy, right? However, you are sorely mistaken.

Not only are her feet the smelliest in America (can I get an AMEN from anyone who's babysat her?), her attitude often stinks too. I've never met a person more prone to the "I can't's" than she is. Simple homework is an enormous battle because it is bending her will. Doing prescribed work is almost too much for her delicate, determined, direct personality to absorb. I'm at my wits end with her on a regular basis. It's hard for me to imagine a more foreign creature to come from my womb. Having grown up with three brothers, the vicissitudes of boys seem familiar and banal. But the girl... oh the girl.

I do hope that someday her mystery will subside and she will become My Girl. But for now she is shrouded in mystery and stinky feet. Bad attitude galore. Making what seems so lovely become extraordinarily ugly. And then to think, this is just the beginning. In the not-so-distant future this creature, this Good, Bad and Ugly girl will turn 13. Just that thought turns my stomach.

Carrots and Sticks, the new-fashioned way

Yesterday morning for the third time in 4 weeks, we the Godfreys woke up collectively 15 minutes before the bus.

This is not a habit conducive to proper teeth-brushing or allowing time for a Healthy Breakfast. However, my kids made the bus! This is nearly a miracle, since Mugsy is the s l o w e s t human being on the planet. But it proves that we have moved past the mantra of the first two weeks of school, "I don't want to go." and the foregone conclusion that school is required has been ingested by my defiant & stubborn (ie. Like Her Father) girl.

Carrots and Sticks. Rewards and Punishments. It's all my life is about currently. I'm attempting to train these wild-beast children to be productive members of society, but most of the time I just end up yelling, screaming and going through all sorts of machinations just to get them to HEAR what I'm saying, much less minding. 

To reward the marvelous feats of the morning (and because we had leftover tokens & tickets from the hellish School Nite last week), I took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese after school. I spent three dollars & gave them the time of their lives. They barely complained & were quickly obedient during the whole endevour, proving that they did indeed deserve a reward for making the bus this morning. I explained that reward will not be available often, but it was fun to give them a Carrot instead of the Sticks I'm usually doling out.

I Win!! Hurray!

Of course, their good behavior was short-lived. Does anyone else have to punish their children for fighting over who gets to PRAY at dinner time? Nope? I didn't think so. Just me, what with my feral children & all.

The List

It's been over two years since Stu and I had a heart-to-heart that went something like this:
Stuart: Honey, I think we both know what needs to happen about our finances.
Sue: You're right. We need to sell our house and move all 3 kids + dog into a one-room trailer.

Stuart: Um, no. I was thinking you should get a job.
Sue: Are you sure we shouldn't sell the house and move to a trailer? That sounds easier.

I mean, we all know that being a stay-at-home mom was not really seeming like such a good gig for me, anyway, right!? But somehow the dreaded Job Search seemed harder than uprooting our home.

Shortly thereafter I found a job, and I've been working full time ever since. (Well, until 3 weeks ago when I quit that job. Anyway, that's a topic for another post. Let's keep on topic, please.) The plan was that we would use my paycheck just for "work related expenses" and everything else from my paycheck would go to pay down debt. One might say we took a rather broad approach to "work related expenses," because it ended up seeming as though there was no "extra" to put toward paying off debt. What do we do?!?
Approximately one year ago, a year into the "working to pay down debt" plan, we were no longer adding to our debt, nor were we really taking care of it either. Enter a 10% pay reduction at my job. And a 50% increase in child care expenses. And a new-to-us car payment. And what do you have?!? (insert ruffling pom poms): A perfect storm for financial doom! Mwaa hahaha!

So one year ago, Stu and I signed up for a "Total Money Makeover" class at church aka Financial Peace University aka Dave Ramsey. That class taught us how naughty credit card companies are, how horrible collectors are, and how to dicker someone down on the price of a used car or new furniture. For real.

However, we also learned some really valuable tools to making our financial life better. Now our commitment to Financial Peace is not unlike our commitment to other things: full of angst and distrust. However, we've applied some new money management principals to our life and have quit buying everything we want. I hate it, honestly. I want to buy steak and wine and new flip flops, damn it! I vacillate between being happy to shop at Goodwill and desiring to buy in triplicate the nicest newest things I find.

This past year on the Dave Ramsey plan we refer to as being in "emergency mode." This is not what Dave prescribes. He has several "Baby Steps" and encourages those who can not do them quickly to take on a menial second job to get $1,000 in the bank and to start paying off the Evil Credit Companies (Baby Steps One and Two, respectively).  It took us WAY longer to do the first Baby Step than is encouraged, but we believed it was because of the Perfect Storm of Financial Mayhem, so we decided to just tighten our belts and make it work. And we did. We paid off the minivan, we saved up a cushion, and paid off one of our 4 credit cards. We used cash for Christmas gifts, spent the tax return wisely, and quit giving presents. We began to see a light at the end of the tunnel. And then I quit my job.
So, let's review: Emergency Mode begins August 2009. July 2010 we exit Emergency Mode then promptly use all of our savings from Baby Step One on a new water heater. August 2010 I quit my job, thereby reinstating Emergency Mode. And there you have it, folks. Yet another period of living skinny. Just in time for school supplies! Yippee!!

So, in this time of living uber-thrifty, I am jonesin' for some spendiforous living. Some below is my list of what I'd get if money were no object, if Emergency Mode were aborted and I could do whatever I want. (Or if I decided to break the rules and use a credit card.). Le Sigh.

The List: new running shoes,  hair bands, vitamins Omega 3-6-9 and SAM-e which is certain to change my life, right? whole nutmeg and curry from Penzey Spices, a new vacuum cleaner (Seriously, I understand why some women ask for them for Christmas), and a new coffee grinder

Ok, I'm feeling really lame about my list now. Really Sue? SAM-e and a headband? Oh, you're soooo deprived. (see the dripping sarcasm?) See, I also want fabric, but it's not on the list because I have a gift card to JoAnn Fabrics, but can't bring myself to spend it. See, it might not really be the Spending Plan keeping me from buying things, but just my good-old-fashioned tightwad-ed-ness. Ok, deep breath. My life is not bad. My list is not long. I have everything I need. I am not deprived.

Thanks for indulging my lame-o list. It helped me gain perspective.

The Once and Future Worker

It feels a bit like purgatory, to be between jobs. Held in limbo between what a specific investment of energy and the unknown Next. Looking for work is it's own special kind of hell. Requiring a prostration that other forms of self inquiry do not, because looking for work requires one's critical self-inventory to become public. That self-inventory is dusted off, shook out, polished within an inch of it's life, then presented to unknown authorities for their acceptance or rejection.

Several times yesterday Elliott told me I was "ruining his rep." Really? I wonder, how does one go about ruining a 6 year old's rep? Sigh.


Since two days ago, I found myself without a job, I too have been concerned about my "rep". It was my decision to resign, but I wasn't expecting it to play out as it did. Leaving for reasons other than another job make the "why are you applying" questions that much more difficult. And make the particular part of purgatory I'm in feel hotter, more intense.

So here I go, self-inventory and reputation in hand, to discover if in an employer's eyes my reputation is still intact. And (although this may be overly melodramatic) thereby to be released from purgatory.

Trying. Trials. Trying trials.

Once in a while, I need to pause and reflect. Really, we all need to, don't you think? Review the highs and lows of our life, see where we've been and where we're going. It was a habit to take a regular, decisive mental inventory when I was in college, believing that an unexamined life was not one worth living.

Even with the habit of examining myself, I never really figured out where I was going. I count myself lucky to like my life, but I didn't get here because I had a plan. A history major because that allowed me to graduate with the least amount of required courses, I've never been one to try to work in my major. I took graduate courses based upon the requirements of a job and I've taken jobs based upon the requirements of my life. Nothing decided, everything happenstance. Most serendipitiously wonderful. Or beautifully designed by my Loving Maker.

The Examined Life was a semester by semester process, whereby I would re-evaluate myself, taking daylong retreats to seek God for my future.  If I am to be truly honest, those times did little for me to figure out where I was going, but more to figure out who I am/was/am meant to be. I would learn about God and his truths, but rarely heard about what I needed to do. 

I am now entering a time of reflection again. Although  my current life does not allow daylong retreats by rivers or lakes. Reflection now is a process, a submission process much unlike anything I've ever experienced. I've been humiliated when I won't be humbled. I've been disciplined and lovingly restored. Not restored to my former position, but restored to my first love, which is a better result. I'm learning about how to be contrite while not remaining humiliated, which is a tricky feat. And truly, I'm learning that each day must be laid before the Throne of Grace as an offering for any progress to be made.

It is so easy to push the trying trials aside, to not succumb to the painful process of transforming. I fight it tooth and nail. But somehow being angry and honest make the going easier; it's a hard tightrope to walk, but one I'm attempting. Be angry and sin not. Be humble but not humiliated. Be contrite but not prostrate.

Let the redeemed of the Lord say so. I believe I am not stuck. I believe that I can overcome. I believe that this life looks not one iota like what I thought it would. And I believe that I will not be cut off from the everyloving Jesus who takes care of me, even though I fall and flounder.

I'm attending my own trials. I am being tried. And these trying trials are forcing me to find out who I am. Not where I'm going or what my future holds, but who I am.