2024 retrospective

 I feel bad that I have neglected this blog. Hardly anyone was reading it, but on the other hand some people only keep up with me here!

So time for an update about what we did this year.

In February I published Bisection. I self published it because it had been the rounds of both agents and small publishers and they all agreed: this is a great book and someone else will surely pick it up, but I don't know how to sell it/ it doesn't fit into the market. I knew self publishing it would mean it reached a much smaller audience, but I preferred that to none. It's a weird book and it deserved to find its weird people.

The premise is that these aliens are each two separate minds in one body, and our main character(s) are the first to leave their homeworld. I spent a lot of time figuring out how a species like that would live, how their lizard people friends would live, and whether they would eat French fries. But alongside that is the question of making peace with yourself, whether relationships are worth what we sacrifice for them, that kind of thing.

In May we put our house on the market to move back to our old town. Truth be told, I never stopped hating Manassas. John had been working remotely for years so there just didn't seem to be a point in remaining there. There were a lot of pros and cons going into it, and I'm still not entirely sure it wasn't just a selfish decision on my part. Especially as house prices and interest rates have gone up so much that we couldn't buy nearly as nice of a house as I had hoped. But we were rapidly outgrowing the townhouse and we would never be able to buy a bigger house in Manassas.

I had expanded my circles more than I realized, meaning it was harder to leave than I would have thought. However, even after the move, I am staying in better touch than I feared. I go up to karaoke night at the same place I used to, and Marko goes to play D&D with a friend out there every month or so. Our former neighbors drive out to visit us sometimes. So hopefully I will keep all those things going while also spending more time with the friends I had left out here when we moved away.

In July we made the move. The house is 15 minutes outside of town and near the river. It's a little shabby at the edges, but it has trees in front and grass in back, and the walks are always great. Every child has their own room, and I have designated the sunroom as my craft space, where I finally am able to spread out with my loom, spinning wheel, puzzle board, sewing machine, and so on.

The sunsets are always amazing

Marko is going to a private school which had been a draw for us. It's the one private school in the area which specifically caters to disabled kids, and they've really bent over backwards for him. He doesn't get picked on there, for the first time in his school career. However, he also hasn't really made friends. We haven't yet decided what we will be doing next year.

Michael is, as always, chill with everything. The local middle school is brand new and lovely, and nobody bowls him over in the hall anymore. But he also hears the other kids saying some racist things, which I had really hoped wouldn't be the case. I know that this town contains nonwhite people, immigrants, progressives, etc., but it's also very obvious what the majority is and they really want everyone to know they're in charge.

Miriam is furious about the move and I fear she will never forgive me. She loved her school and was just going into fifth grade. I hadn't thought to worry about her, because she's always been a social success, but fifth grade is a rough time to try to make all new friends. She misses her old friends and teachers a lot.

Jackie adjusted easily. She likes her teacher and the other kids. And she's been lucky to find a girl just her age right next door. That's certainly not a given in a house in the boonies like this one is.

In August my third book came out, the second book of my Imperial Mars trilogy, The Sea of Clouds. In this one, political unrest is heating up while on Venus, a diplomatic visit turns into a murder mystery. People who liked the first one have mostly loved this one.

In September I got a job babysitting for a friend. I hadn't been able to find a writing job like I had before, and we badly needed the money. I'm finding it more tiring than I'd thought, but the bright side is seeing my friend all the time when before I hardly ever saw her.

And that's about it. In the new year, I'd really like to make more money freelancing, self-publish a couple more books, and make time to float down the river in my raft.

Resolution-wise, I'm turning over a thought in my head about showing up for other people instead of only protecting my own peace. I've done very little for others (except my kids) in such a long time, mainly because I've been exhausted and overwhelmed all the time. But things have been looking up over the past year and a half, so maybe it's time to come out of hibernation and see what I can do for others.

It's that time of year

Years are funny things. You'd think I would remember what year things happened in, but I absolutely don't. I had to go back through my blog archives to remember what my resolutions were. And the word that was supposed to guide my year? Yeah, total news to me today, reading it. (It was "nurture." I guess I did it?)

My goal was to take care of myself and my family. Which I did. Today was the year I've been waiting for for years and years . . . the year all four kids were in school. So, for the first time in years, I've actually had abundant time for self care. And I pretty much did use it for that, although I didn't meet some of my goals.

Practical resolutions were these: 

• Go on a vacation.
• Submit the next book to agents. 
• I'd like to look into taking some classes at the community college in the fall. 
• I have already found a pool I would like to purchase a membership for in the summer. 
• Finish my solar sailing trilogy and keep looking for a small publisher for it. 
• Keep writing and submitting short stories.
• I want to make sure to take my boat out a lot in the coming year. 

So, mixed success. I took four trips this year. Two as a family (a weekend at a mountain lodge, and four days at the beach). Two on my own (to Rochester for a friend's wedding, and to Cincinnati to meet a long-time online friend. However, I mainly discovered that we are all absolutely terrible at traveling. The kids whined all of both vacations and just couldn't settle down as much as usual without their usual routines. Of course in retrospect they remember having a lot of fun and wanted to do it again. Maybe we will but I am not in a hurry.

And I don't travel that great by myself either. I can drive eight hours by myself, though I don't enjoy it. But then I get there and sleep barely at all and am weird and shy with everyone because I'm out of sorts from traveling. Just . . . I am terrible at this.

I sent maybe ten or fifteen queries. It was hard to get excited about querying, and I've mostly gotten rejections or silence. And I just don't know about this book. Maybe it's bad?

Did not take community college classes. I decided not to on account of being exhausted and overwhelmed. I'm probably missing out and would be meeting fun people and stuff, but . . . ugh, it feels hard to even contemplate. I'm so tired.

Did not purchase a pool membership. It ended up not being worth it. But we did go to the pool most weeks and also the kids had swimming lessons. Everybody but Jackie was swimming by the end of it.

Did sell my solar sailing trilogy! Biggest triumph of the year.

Don't think I submitted short stories at all. Maybe once? 

Took my boat out exactly once. It is very hard to go boating by oneself.

Overall, this year has been a little disappointing. I imagined that when my kids were all in school, I'd have all this extra time and jump into loads of interesting new hobbies and a previously unseen dedication to chores. But instead, I just took twice or three times as long to get started doing work. Oh, and laid around a lot. The only part of the house I really like is my room, and the only place comfortable to sit in there is my bed, so . . . I spent a lot of time in bed. I did read quite a lot, which I'm happy about. But I also wasted a lot of time, which I'm not.

I'm unclear if having less to do just made me that much more sluggish and my time more formless, or if I genuinely have been tired and would be even more overwhelmed if I'd committed to more things. Part of it is that I was sick the entire month of November. And I did manage to finish one novel and write a whole other one. So, it's not like I've been doing nothing. But have I been exercising, sewing, finishing my knitting and weaving projects, or hanging out with friends? Not very much, no.

I did do one thing that nurtured myself, which I've been putting off since we moved. I found a new doctor and finally had a checkup. Turns out my thyroid numbers are not right. I probably have Hashimotos. However, it's not very bad yet, apparently, and therefore there is nothing they can do about it but wait. This seems wrong to me, and I'll have to follow up with an endocrinologist I guess. Because if it's bad enough for me to feel this tired, maybe there's something that can be done?

It's the most reassuring and wonderful thing to think my thyroid has been busted all this time and that's my excuse for all this slacking. Very un-reassuring to then be told I shouldn't be this tired and there is nothing they can do it yet. 

I think I have been less depressed this year. At least, during the summer and fall. Being home alone with just Jackie was, in retrospect, really bad for me. Getting a break helps. But I still have days when randomly I feel horribly sad. This, too, can be caused by thyroid disease, so . . . ? I don't know, it's a thing to look into.

Thinking about the year to come, I find I don't really know what I want to do. Do I want to get better at accomplishing things every day? Do I want to cut myself slack and realize this is my recovery for twelve years of almost nonstop kids? Do I want to get out more? I am lonely, but all my efforts to hang out with people this year have mostly led to me concluding that I am so bad at it I should just give up and stay home. So do I keep working on that or accept the inevitable?

Here are a few things I hope for in the coming year:

• I made it into a by-application-only online writing seminar, which terrifies me, but I'm going to do it. (I mean, I paid my money so now I can't chicken out.) Hopefully that will be good for my career and my ability to handle zoom.
• I wrote a romance, which I hope to revise and then do something with. I'm considering self-publishing something after my book comes out, hoping to coast on my improved reputation (if . . . anyone likes the book, that is).
• I've got my novel coming out in July, so that's one thing that's definitely happening. I hope to talk to some bookstores about carrying it and maybe doing a launch event. I am so bad at that kind of thing. But I may end up even doing some podcast and youtube interviews. I gotta do my best for my book right? No matter how terrified I am of being perceived?
• See an endocrinologist.
• Get that stuck wisdom tooth out finally.
• Keep prioritizing my mental health: go outside, exercise, don't spend too much time on social media, do creative things.
• Go to two science fiction conventions. I am dreading both, but maybe I could meet some people or publicize my books. I feel like they could be fun if I could only get the hang of them. One of them, luckily, is close enough I won't have to sleep away from home.

I came up with my word after several days of struggling to think of what I even want to do next year. The word is SIFT. By this I mean, sift through the things I can't change (and should accept) and the things I can't accept (and must change). There are so many of these things in my life, and my default is to accept them all. But maybe some things aren't going to get better until I choose to change them.

One thing to sift is moving again. I don't like living here, there's no getting around it. This place is not good for me, it does not make me happy. But I also hate moving. So every time John brings it up (given that he's working from home again, and we could live anywhere) I just panic because I remember how bad it was going through the last move, how many months it took me to stop feeling terrible every single day. And there's the question of whether it's worse to disrupt the kids' lives yet again just because I was unhappy. If I sift this, I work out whether there is a way to be happy here, or whether this is a thing to be brave and do despite the temporary difficulty of doing it. 

I want to sift whether to keep trying to get a literary agent or keep working on small presses or self publish some things.

I want to sift whether trying to apply more willpower and get out of bed more will, in the long run, make me happier and better able to do more things. Or whether this is simply the speed I can manage my life. Or whether in fact there's a combination of different pills that can transform me into a reasonably energetic person!

Because the fact is, there's no one kind of answer to all problems. Sometimes you make a brave resolution and do a hard thing. Sometimes you gradually get used to a thing until it doesn't bother you anymore. I need the wisdom to know the difference.

New Year things

1

Today is the last day it's really reasonable to do a retrospective of 2020, so here goes.

Last year I resolved not to give up hope. That was all. I realized that I wasn't in control of very much in my life, because of Jackie mostly, and instead of making a resolution, I decided to hope for a few things.

Here is what I hoped I could do:

• wean Jackie
• potty train Jackie
• get Jackie to sleep through the night
• be able to accomplish more in a day
• get a literary agent
• finish 1-2 novels
• Donald Trump gets voted out

The year fulfilled all of my worst fears by making it harder to do things than I had imagined. But on the other hand, it fulfilled almost all of my hopes. While John was on civil leave from work, I managed to finish 2019's novel, and by using all of my free time for the second half of the year, I finished (the rough draft of) a second. Since we had nowhere to go for months, it was a great time to potty train Jackie.

She slowly started sleeping through the night most of the time, over the course of the year. I weaned her on her birthday this year, so it's only a little late.

I did not accomplish more in a day. It helped that I lost my Latin teaching job (really, a relief given how much fun teaching Latin by zoom wouldn't be) but then I had to help my own kids do schoolwork so it came out in the wash. I did not get an agent.

We did vote out Donald Trump, thanks to everyone that turned out. He even left office. I didn't really relax till he had.

But honestly that's pretty good for a year when a) I didn't push myself too hard to accomplish anything, and b) it was a hell year to begin with.

2

One thing I didn't put down was get a writing job, though I've been wanting to do that for a while. Teaching really drains me, and I would like to be able to work in my jammies. Doubly so given the pandemic.

Well, a friend was looking for a job writing web content, so now that's what I do. It's very part time. I briefly picked up a second contract, but that stressed me out having so many articles on my plate, so it was a bit of a relief when that one didn't ask for more. When the kids are all back in school, I would like to pick up more jobs like that. I believe that I can, because a) I'm a pretty good writer, and b) pretty much every company needs a website, which needs a blog, which needs content, so that's a heck of a lot of demand. 

There's always a problem where there are more writers than there are eyeballs that want to read the content. But today, robots read every single website for keywords, so you don't even need a human audience to have a job.

Anyway, it feels really good to get validation for my writing. And also to have money that's all mine.

3

Jackie really is getting easier, very very slowly. She still wants attention an awful lot of the time. And when she wants a thing, you pretty much can't distract her or put her off. You do it or there's screaming and screaming and more screaming and flailing and hitting. It's hard. I don't love that part.

Because of the challenge she continues to be, specifically connected to stuff like sensory sensitivity, rigidity in routines, and shyness, I had her assessed for autism. This was both shorter and cheaper than what we did for Marko, because I took her to a child psychologist instead of a developmental pediatrician. I was worried that would mean they wouldn't see her issues, especially given she's a girl and thus not the standard profile.

But the doctor did see them, and confirmed she does have ("very mild!") autism. Which surprises me not at all, and is honestly a huge relief. It is hard to admit to people that she is the amount of trouble she is, even at four years old, and not have an explanation for it. 

When you have a wild, fussy, or demanding child, people judge the heck out of you. But the second you say the A-word, suddenly it's "oh I love autistic people, I am so supportive, you're so strong and great."

Sorry, but if you don't love and support wild, fussy, demanding children without having to be told about their label, you don't love autistic people. Because they're everywhere and they aren't born diagnosed.

That's my rant for today.

4

Resolutions for this year? Are we doing that? Is there a point to that?

Things I would like to have happen, COVID willing and the crick don't rise:

• I want my COVID vaccine.
• I want to go to WorldCon, the convention where the Hugo Awards are happening.
• I want to relearn how to spend time with people. And hug them. I'm gonna hug so many people.
• I want to spend as much time as possible this summer outside. In the pool if at all possible. I finally have pool-age kids and we missed a whole summer.
• I'd like to sign my kids up for ballet, gymnastics, or martial arts next fall.
• I'd like to take a long break from writing, because of burnout, but then write something completely new in November.
• If I run through my agent list and still don't have an agent, I'm submitting my novel to indie presses. The publishing industry is consolidating too much and sometimes small is better.
• Pick up some freelance writing contracts maybe.

It's going to be a sad year if most of this stuff has to be canceled. Please stay home till you get vaccinated so we can have a real summer this year.

5

One last thing is a word. Gotta have a word, I've been doing this for years and I'd hate to leave a gap, even though next year is as up-in-the-air as last year was.

The word that came to me is PEOPLE.

In 2020 I actually got more social, in a sense. I've been pretty isolated for years, because of kids, especially one kid who hangs upside-down and screams when I try to have an adult conversation. But this year, everyone was online all day like me. I had some good groups and talked a lot with my friends. Which is lovely.

So next year I'd like to keep that going, and if at all possible move that outside the house. Start by hanging out with the people I already know and miss, and then maybe, slowly, meet other people I don't already know. I know! Terrifying! But I would really like to do that.

Happy moderately-new-still year. Do you have plans or a word?

Word for 2019

Last night, I read through all my old New Year posts.  (And gave them a label, because I do this every year and it's a bit of a hassle finding them.)  The "word" thing has definitely worked well for me.  It gives me the sense that I'm working on something, even though it seems so often that I'm standing still.

Last year the word was "me."  I didn't tell y'all that because I was embarrassed -- it felt self-absorbed.  It had a dual meaning.  First, I need to take care of myself and not feel guilty for making "me" a priority from time to time.  Which I did: I went to the dentist and got five cavities drilled; I got glassses; I paid real money for a real haircut.  Twice!  And I allowed myself to actually insist on a little of my own time to submit my novel and work on the next one.  It helped immensely that John has been supportive.  I really don't think I could do it if he gave me the slightest sense, ever, that I was shirking my real job by writing.  Instead he believes I will actually get published and so it IS real work.  And that I shouldn't give up the work I want to do for something with a shorter-term reward.

The second meaning of "me" is that I should be less embarrassed to be myself.  I realized that I have been making myself vanilla for years--really, since boarding school--for fear of being rejected for being different.  And I never got rejected, but I found it hard to make friends.  I realized that people had a hard time figuring out what I was all about because I was too inoffensive.  Appearance: bland.  Conversation topics: the weather, funny anecdotes.  I almost never got John's attention because of this; he says what made the real difference was when after a whole year of knowing each other, I finally got steamed up enough about something to vehemently state my opinion.  (It was that NFP is overused, ha ha haaaa.)  He liked that because it showed I had some ... "intellectual sharpness," I think he called it.  

Anyway the idea was to do more of that kind of thing.  Try to bat signal the people who might like me, even at the risk that people might be turned off by me.  I don't mean online--internet expression takes so much less courage, and I think I need to work on not doing it too much.  But real, in-person courage.  Dyeing my hair blue was the main way I did that.

And it worked!  Lots of people who would have normally ignored me started giving me compliments.  I had many people say "oh, blue hair! I've always wanted to try purple/green/pink."  A lady at school said that and then actually did it!  I was really proud of her.  I don't know if it helped any, but I've made some friends this year.  My across-the-street neighbor and I talk now, and our kids play.  That's the only in-person one, but I made a lot of online friends.

Some unexpected things happened this year.  The biggest one was working to reform my alma mater and then, when it proved resistant to any kind of reform, working for this advocacy organization.  I didn't do a whole lot, thanks to being overwhelmed all the time, but I tried.

Because of that, I got threatened to be outed as an atheist by a fellow alum.  It freaked me out for about three days and then I called his bluff and told people anyway.  Because you know what?  I don't need friends whose friendship was conditional on me being someone I am not in real life.  Letting go of the fear of rejection from my Catholic friends has been a goal for me for years, and in the end I had to get forced into facing it.  So, thanks?

Of course being ex-Catholic is suddenly a lot trendier all of a sudden, because of the scandals.  There are a lot of people walking away.   And the kind of liberal Catholics I hang out with these days are really understanding of that because they've been tempted to do the same.  Now, I didn't actually leave because of scandals -- if I still thought it was all true, I'd probably be suffering through it to this day -- but scandals do seem like additional evidence that the chain of trust that brings us all those doctrines is not reliable.  Anyway the company is nice.

John has started going to an Orthodox church.  I have mixed feelings about this.  I like that he found a place where he is happy -- and boy is he happy about it.  He's obsessed with reading books, watching sermons, joining Facebook groups.  And that makes me feel suspicious, because getting too into religion was so very bad for me.  I also feel a little funny about the kids getting into it.  While I think some exposure to religion is good, I wasn't expecting them to swallow it all so eagerly.  I should probably write a whole post about that.

He also started getting mental health treatment: a bipolar diagnosis, meds, and therapy.  It's a process, but he's definitely feeling a lot better than he was.  He did well at work this year, but his beloved boss quit, so he's lost some job satisfaction on that front.  Discouragingly, there just aren't a lot of jobs that fit his career path around here.  But the thought of ever moving is .... not appealing.

Overall this year continues the slog upward from the low point that was 2016.  Jackie is still super difficult -- she nurses as much as ever, stays up late as ever, screams quite a lot.  But she plays with the big kids more and definitely screams less as she slowly stops needing the naps it's so difficult to get her to take.  Most importantly, she's developing a ton of personality, so I feel a lot more bonded to her now.  Miriam is getting increasingly bored at home, which probably means she's ready for school.  Michael still complains a lot about school, but he very suddenly started reading recently, so that's good.  And Marko has been doing very well.  He reads a lot and loves school more than ever.  Occasionally he goes on a kick for a week or two where he is as annoying as possible to everyone; I wish I knew what that was all about.  But he's mainly doing very well.

My writing, editing, and submitting are all going great.  I don't have as much time to spend on them as I'd like, but I have some and I'm using it well.

The first step of conventional publishing is to query a literary agent.  You send a letter to the agent with a blurb describing what your story is about, and often some number of pages as well.  I've sent out over a hundred, which was my goal for the year.  And I've had seventy-two lovely rejections, mostly form letters.  But I did get a couple encouraging ones saying they liked it.  One even gave me some tips for revising, which I took.  I also ditched my prologue, which stung, but I got more positive responses after that.  When you've got five pages to impress someone in, you don't want to blow one on prologue.

But I did get eight positive replies, meaning they asked for more pages or the whole manuscript.  Four of them read it and wrote back that they weren't interested after all, and four are still reading it.  I wish I knew how long it would take.  I'm not submitting any more at present, because I want to give them a chance to read it, but I will probably get back to it soon if I don't hear anything.

This is the achievement I'm proudest of this year!  Even if I don't publish this book, I now know how to navigate the query process and have overcome my fear of letting people read my stuff.  It will probably be at least six months before the alien story is ready to query, but I will do that too, and with a lot less trepidation.

So, what about next year?  I tried to think of a word but drew a total blank for awhile.  Then I thought of a day I had last week.  I had talked to a friend, who told me, "You still seem very overwhelmed, and really anxious."  Which was more shattering than maybe it should have been.  My focus has been really heavily on, "but I'm doing so much better!"  And I am.  But I'm still just getting by in a lot of ways.  And anxiety?  Well, that same day I lost a lot of sleep thinking about ever moving from our house.  The very thought that anything could ever change made me panic.  I don't like that about myself.  I used to be so fearless, so excited for change!  Now our life feels like a very precarious balance that can be totally derailed by almost anything.

Partly it's true, because a family of six people is a complicated machine.  But partly I'm still traumatized by 2016.  I feel like any change is guaranteed to be for the worse.  And moving?  Our move was a horrible experience that, years later, makes me never want to do it again.  I feel like I got changed somehow, from a free spirit who was willing to set out to whole new cities without fear, to somebody huddling under the bed hoping that nothing will ever change.  Even though there is a lot that's uncomfortable about my life!  This town isn't exactly ideal for me and we don't have enough money.  A move might be good, but I'm just too scared.

So of course after thinking of all this the word "brave" popped into my head.  I don't like that word.  I want to pick something else.  But I think it's occurring to me for a reason, which is that I am not really happy huddling under the bed.  "Brave" is going to mean working on my anxiety, which is better but still a problem.  Maybe facing new things, whether a move or a new job or something smaller.  I've been way braver this year in a lot of ways, from daring to take the kids places to calling strangers on the phone -- I want to do more of that.

Wish me luck!  Do you have a word for the year?

New year, new hair

This year, I hope to focus on my own needs and wants a little bit more.  So it seemed right to start out with a symbolic action -- one that took both self-value and courage.  That's right: I finally dyed my hair.

I settled on blue, since it's a color that never fails to look good on me.  With dye, it can be hard to say exactly what shade you're going to get, but every shade from turquoise to periwinkle is in my wardrobe and flatters me fine.  Orange or red would be much riskier ventures.  I didn't want to do my whole head blue, because that was too big a step; I wanted some of my familiar color to reassure myself that it was still me.  So my plan was to do something like this: 

 

That is, I wanted to dye the underlayers of my hair blue, and keep the rest blond.  It would be subtle.  I wanted to ease myself into the whole hair-dye experience.

But I did decided to just slightly, very subtly lighten my whole head, because my hair color is kind of a dark blond and I worried the blue would look muddy and the blond parts would clash with the blue.  

Well, um ... it turns out that bleach is very difficult to do.  Even after reading pages and pages of advice, nobody really could tell me how much bleach it would take to lighten dark blond to light blond, or how long to leave it in.  In retrospect, what I should have done was buy twice the "developer" -- the liquid part -- and only half the bleach, because I have a lot of hair to lighten and there isn't any way to put the liquid in thinly.  It goes in, or it does not go in.  Even with a friend to help me, it was a struggle.  Comb through the bleach to the ends?  My hair did not comb, it snarled and stuck to itself.  Apply close to the scalp but not touching the scalp?  Not exactly sure how anybody is supposed to manage that.

Then, of course, we waited and waited and it wasn't getting lighter at all, and then suddenly it was yellow.  And it was only at that point that it because apparent that some of the hair hadn't really gotten any bleach at all.

That's not a shadow, there.  That's the actual stripe I had.

So I got the bottle and squeezed out what drops there were left, to cover the dark area.  Left for half an hour, rinsed it out, saw there were now more unusually-shaped dark areas, and did yet another spot treatment.  And it still didn't look super.  If I kept it parted exactly where it had been, and the light wasn't great, I just looked like a bottle-blonde with overbleached hair.  If I pulled the hair back at all, it looked straight-up ridiculous.

So that's when I made up my mind that some of the front hair was going to have to be blue as well.  Put a blue stripe through that mess, and the yellow and brown patches would be a lot less noticeable.

I did the blue by myself, and luckily it went into my hair a lot more easily than the bleach had.  Which still wasn't easy--hair really resists having stuff put into it, as it happens.  You can put stuff on the outside of a hank of hair, but if you pry the hank apart, you see the dye didn't reach the middle.  In the end the technique that worked for me was to squeeze the dye onto an old toothbrush and comb it through a very small chunk of hair at a time.

The articles I read said to be very careful not to get it on your skin, to wear gloves, to set the bottle down on newspaper, and so on.  Turns out even if you're careful, it's a lost cause.  I got blue a lot of places.  Comet got most of that off the floor, and as for my arm and neck and right ear ... well, it's starting to fade.

Here's me, very worried it won't look good:

Rinsing it out was difficult too.  They say to use cold water, but I didn't want to do it in the kitchen sink (because I didn't want to turn all the dishes in there blue, or wash them either) which meant a freezing shower.  At first my entire body turned faintly blue and corpselike from the runoff.  And the blue strands bled onto the blond strands, so now I have three colors: blue, pale blue, and yellow.  It was just as well.  That yellow color isn't attractive and the light blue is much nicer.  I kind of want to do the rest of my head in light blue, if not now, maybe when this batch fades.

I don't know if I was supposed to keep rinsing till it ran clear, but it just kept coming out blue, so after awhile I just quit and dried it off.  But I have been warned it'll bleed every time I wash it, and to use an old towel.

Once it started to dry, the color began to show up a lot better.  It looked ... well ... it looked GOOD!  Which came as a shock to me, given the horrible-looking stages I went through to get here.

Mostly the underlayers aren't visible; I'm glad I did the front too, or nobody would even notice it was blue.  I had worried bright color near my face would wash me out, but I don't think it does.

The dye I used was Splat! Blue Envy, which includes the bleach kit.  I love the color, and it's supposed to last through 30 washes.  Though if you have darker hair, I'd suggest going with one of that brand's colors intended for brunettes.  That way you don't have to deal with the difficult bleaching process.  I can say for myself, if I ever need my hair bleached again, I'm going to a pro.  I'm happy to touch up the color myself, but since bleach is permanent, I'd rather have someone else do it.

Every time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I see the blue and feel happy and proud.   Happy to have color in my life--and proud I had the guts to FINALLY do it.

Looking back at 2017

Today is the day to look back on the year I just had and try to take stock.  Problem is, my memories are kind of fuzzy.  Last New Year's feels like forever ago.  So I grabbed this survey off of Facebook and am going to use it to jog my memory.  Feel free to answer the same questions in the comments or on your own blog!

New Years' Survey!

1. What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before?
Dropped the boys at school and left them there.  ALL DAY.  I think I missed them more than they did me.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Yes!  My goal was to "rise to the occasion" and do all that executive-function adulting stuff that I dread, and I did.  I took Marko to numberless assessment appointments.  I scheduled shots and showed up to the appointments.  I did not get to the dentist.  Oh well.  I had a physical though AND saw a dermatologist for a mole that has been scaring me for two years.  I can say that I have grown massively in organizational skills and in confidence.  I feel like I can commit to showing up somewhere or making a phone call without hedging that I'm a flake and may not show.  When I have to make a phone call, I usually do it the same day rather than stalling for a solid week.  Having to do it made me do it, and that made me less scared of doing it the next time.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
I racked my brain for awhile before remembering that I DID.  Jeez.

Two people close to me got pregnant, and I have been supportive instead of making bitter comments about how their lives are going to be ruined.  Go me!

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Not very close.

5. What countries did you visit?
None.  I went to Maryland once.

6. What would you like to have in 2017 that you lacked in 2018?
My room to myself.  Sometime this year, I'm kicking Jackie out into Miriam's room and will finally get to put my pajamas on with the lights on!  It's going to be great!

7. What dates from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
January 20th.  Jackie's birth and Trump's inauguration.  It wasn't a great day.  At least the afterpains distracted me from reading the news.
Also August 15th, the boys' first day of school.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Finally, after over two months, getting Jackie to go to bed at a reasonable hour so I didn't have to spend 8pm-midnight nursing her and unable to move a muscle without lengthening the process by hours.

9. What was your biggest failure?
The garden.  Basically didn't do much of anything in there.  I planted stuff and ignored it and it all died, except the tomatoes and peppers which sort of plugged along in a half-hearted way.  The soil is not as good here as at the old place, and there isn't as much sun either.
Oh and the chickens.  I gave them the same treatment as the garden, and to the same effect.  Two died and the remaining one I gave away for fear she'd meet the same fate.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
So many illnesses.  Cold after cold after throat infection after flu.  The kids bring it home from school and share it around the family where, with six of us, it hangs around forever.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Honestly I don't remember buying much of anything.  I did buy a nice pendant for my birthday, so I could have at least one piece of jewelry that wasn't a cross.  It's just the earth.

12. Where did most of your money go?
That big ol' mortgage, I guess.  Also school supplies and clothes.

13. What did you get really excited about?
NaNoWriMo.  It was the most thrilling thing that's happened to me in a long time.  It meant I could be myself again and do something I wanted to do instead of spending all my productive time on kid stuff.

14. What song will always remind you of 2017?
Probably Blue World.  I've had that in the car for a long time and it's very catchy.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:?
– happier or sadder? happier
– thinner or fatter? thinner
– richer or poorer? richer (in savings - income has stayed about the same)

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Nothing really.  There wasn't any extra time I could have spent on other things.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Waking up at night?

18. How did you spend Christmas?
At home, in my jammies.  I recommend it.

19. What was your favorite TV program?
Probably Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.  That's John's and my show to watch together right now.  I also watched a good bit of Call the Midwife, Jane the Virgin, and Parenthood.  Didn't get back into action shows, though I would have liked to.  It wound up being too much tension for me.  Though my anxiety is getting better all the time, so next year I bet I will be able to.

20. What were your favorite books of the year?
All the Terry Pratchett books.  They got me through.  I highly recommend them when you're stressed, anxious, or depressed--they're light-hearted and never scary.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?
Like the previous question, I'm going to go with music I listened to this year, not music that came out this year.  I mostly listened to Rush and Moody Blues.

22. What were your favorite films of the year?
The only movies I can remember watching are Zootopia, the MLP movie, Rogue One, Boss Baby, and Bright.  Liked them all.

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was 31.  Don't think I did anything special.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I have had a strict policy against might-have-beens this year.  I'm sure y'all can guess the very first place my mind went when I heard this question.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
Two words: Yoga. Pants.  Though my weight has stabilized to the point I can go buy some jeans now.

26. What kept you sane?
This mental health technique

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017?
Probably to trust my kids to meet obstacles and fears and still be okay.  I've been very protective up to now, and maybe that was the right thing then, but this year it has been the time to force my kids into situations they didn't feel ready for . . . and find that they were ready after all.  It did a lot for their confidence and for my trust in them.  And I gotta say, it's great not to be the only person responsible for their entire education anymore.

So, how was 2017?  Well, it beat 2016.  2016 was chugging along wonderfully when it suddenly started to derail, and things got worse and worse for the rest of the year.  I spent a lot of effort on my mental health that year, with the net result that I did not actually have the total mental breakdown I felt like I was going to have.  So that was something.  But it was, in general, a horrifyingly bad year.

But this year I knew it would be better, because no matter what awful things came my way, I figured at least I wouldn't be pregnant anymore.  And that happened.  Nobody has ever been pregnant forever.  Of course Jackie's newborn phase was a living nightmare; she was just the worst ... and they have all been high-needs so I know what I'm talking about.  But I at least had the comfort of having my body to myself.  That matters a lot.  And I felt a lot saner than during the same time period with Miriam, whether because I had a house big enough to hold my family, or because I used a baby swing instead of trying to hold the baby all the time, or because my hormones were in better shape.  I felt bad a lot of the time, but I didn't scream at the other kids (much) or fail them in any obvious ways.  Miriam loved being a big sister, so that really helped . . . one of the hardest things about having a newborn who isn't the first is that you are dealing with a clingy, upset toddler who is jealous at having to share you, and that really didn't happen at all.  It also helped a lot that she was potty-trained, no longer napped, and gave up nursing when Jackie was born.

But really, it was still overstimulating and exhausting.  The big kids were bored and fought with each other a lot, and I was usually too overwhelmed to get them out of the house much.  The real turnaround happened when they started school.  Finally they had a built-in place to go and do big-kid stuff, while I had some hours a day where I wasn't surrounded by yelling and screaming and mess.  Miriam had more of my attention, and when the boys got home from school, they played nicely together more and fought less.

Now Jackie is almost one, which means she is light-years less trouble than she was as a newborn.  She's still high-needs.  It takes her a lot to get her to nap, and then she doesn't nap long.  When she's unhappy she doesn't want to snuggle, she wants to claw your face off.  It's tough.  But I'm rejoicing at every milestone she reaches, because the older she gets, the more she joins the Big Kid Gang and the more I can do other things.  That's how I managed to write a book ... though she's having a difficult phase at the moment and I can't work on editing very much.  But I expect to be able to write another book in the coming year; I can't see why not.

So.  It's a year of slow improvement.  I'm proud of how I've handled it.  I did rise to the occasion, absolutely.

What are my goals for the coming year?

1.  I want to work on publishing my book.  I believe it's good enough, or can be made good enough.  It might not be what the market is looking for.  I hear a lot that the dystopia "moment" is over and nobody wants to publish them anymore.  But perhaps I can get someone to take a chance on it.  I'll submit it to 100 agents, or even more, and if after all that I don't get a bite .... I'll move on to the next thing.  I am telling myself that if I want to get published, I can.  All I have to do is work hard at it.  Writing not good enough?  I'll just get better at it.  Story not what publishers are looking for?  I'll write other stories.  A lot of books get published every year.  There isn't any reason why one of them can't be mine.

2.  I want to write another book.  I am bursting with ideas right now.  Should it be the one with the alien with another person living in her head?  Or the space pilgrims?  Or the agoraphobic, possibly autistic inventor who has to foil a global conspiracy?  You see I'm trending toward sci-fi at the moment.  I want to keep working on my fantasy epic sometime, but maybe not right now.

3.  I have to make a decision about school for the kids for another year.  Michael almost certainly will stay in school because it's been obviously great for him.  Marko is begging to homeschool again, but I am not sure I want to put myself through that wringer again.  He is really, really hard to homeschool.  My goal is to make a decision that weighs the entire family's needs, and is right for him.  (I say "I" because John is adamantly pro-school -- he's made up his mind.  So if I decide homeschooling is better, we're going to have some tough conversations and then decide as a unit.)

4.  I want to get out of the house more.  I want to visit with friends, meet new people, join clubs.  I want to join a writer's group and actually attend the meetings.  I want to volunteer at the library to teach knitting classes again -- something I did one time this past year and liked.

In short, I want to move on, move forward.  I want to value my own dreams and wishes, because I will have the space to do so more and more.  I've learned you can't go on forever putting yourself last.

I just don't know of a word that sums all that up.  Hopefully I can think of one before we're too far into 2018!

2016 can go die in a fire

I hate to be overdramatic about a year.  But 2016 really has sucked in so many ways.  I think a lot of the cultural fuss about 2016 being awful is mostly a way of superstitiously convincing ourselves that it will magically stop on January 1st -- that no more celebrities will die, no more gorillas will get shot, and Trump will crawl back wherever he came from.

But really, the reason 2016 has been so awful isn't actually because it was immediately bad.  Rather, it's a year we came into with a lot of optimism, only to have our hopes dashed and the prospect of a grim future laid out ahead of us.  So looking to 2017 to save us isn't going to help.

I know that, personally, that's been the way 2016 has been for me.  2015 was a really hard year, but I had a great deal of confidence 2016 would be better -- that it would be the year I finally pulled out of the rut it was in and saw some improvement in my life.  I mean, look what I wrote one year ago!

However, it is slowly getting better.  I realized today that 2015 is the first calendar year since 2008 that I haven't been pregnant for any part of it.  If I can just keep plugging away, there will (hopefully) be a day when I can sleep through the night again.  When I can put a cartoon on for the kids and take a nap because all of them are old enough to be briefly unsupervised.  When I can count on some time to work on my own projects every day, and the energy to do it.  I'm dreaming of a day when thinking about my garden or my next novel doesn't make me overwhelmed and exhausted, but excited and ready to start.  It'll happen.

Just reading these words makes me feel kind of bitter.  I had such high hopes.  And for awhile it looked like things really were starting to get better.  Miriam got a little older; that helped.  And around April or May I started feeling alive again ... instead of struggling to stay awake all day and accomplish a few tiny things, I actually started feeling like doing stuff!  Probably it was my hormones returning to normal at last, which would be why I got pregnant that same month.

If it hadn't been for that momentary improvement, maybe I wouldn't have minded so much.  But to have things get better, to remember how it felt to feel good, to be able to go places and do things again, to be doing well financially, to feel for a short time that I was actually doing well as a mother, and have that yanked out from under me?  That was what made it so horrible.

Objectively, this year has been less horrible than I might have feared.  Our move did set us back financially, but we were able to manage it better than we would have been able to a year or two before -- our frugality for the past five years paid off in our ability to make this happen.  This pregnancy has been unpleasant, but I don't think I've had any prenatal depression this time around.  The kids have struggled -- Marko quit making those amazing gains in schoolwork that he was doing last spring; Michael has returned to his baseline level of "could power a small city with his whining," Miriam has slept way worse -- but they're still doing better than they were when I was pregnant with Miriam, probably because I am taking better care of them than I was then.  And while the wonderfulness of John and I getting to spend time alone together from time to time, and having our room to ourselves, is ending soon, so far at least this pregnancy hasn't put a noticeable strain on our relationship.  We're a lot better at getting along than we were in the past, for one thing, and neither of us is horribly depressed.

Basically what has gotten me through this year has been asking myself the question, "What am I objectively suffering right now?"  And often, it isn't a whole lot.  Maybe I'm tired, or I'm achy, or my stomach's bothering me, but that isn't the source of most of my unhappiness.  My unhappiness is caused by worries about the future, and I can choose to set those aside as much as I can and focus on how, right now, things are okay.

I still get sad if I think of it too much.  Like how I was not able to write a single word of the book I wanted to write this year, or how we've basically given up on our dream of ever living on a farm because we don't want to have to move again.  When any of the kids gets needy and whiny, I feel like I am failing them because I'm not as emotionally available as I want to be ... and because I know that's only going to get worse when they have to share me with a needy baby.  That's especially the case with Marko right now; it seems he's going to need a lot extra from me this coming year, and it's a year when I won't be as able to give much.  I would like to imagine a reality in which it was no big thing for me to be able to care of a newborn while also taking him to assessment appointments and speech therapy, but that has never been my experience of what having a newborn is like.  Instead I have always barely been able to keep everyone fed and not biting each other.  I don't know who's going to fall through the cracks the most, but it seems inevitable that somebody will, and that kills me.  I thought mother guilt was bad when I had only two kids!

I wish I had something optimistic to say at the end of this post, but I really don't have much.  I'll certainly be cheering 2016's demise, but I have few hopes for 2017 being better.  I fear the post-Miriam lethargy will return, and that I will never find a cure for it (I've had several things tested; no luck).  I fear that Marko will fall behind in school because I won't be able to work with him; that he'll miss out on help he needs because it takes us so long to get him diagnosed; that I'll fail to bond at all with the new baby because I will resent it so much for its neediness when the other kids need me too; that I will resent Michael and Miriam for still expecting me to pay attention to them too; that John and I will drift apart because we are so busy putting out brush fires with the kids that we never spend time together anymore.  Maybe it won't be as bad as that. But I remember, before Miriam was born, saying "maybe it won't be so bad" and it totally was that bad.  Optimism is a hard thing to keep renewing when it keeps getting blown up in your face!

I hold onto small things.  We will soon have paid off the extra costs from moving and the midwife, so that starting in February we will be making financial progress again and I can buy myself some new socks.  John has been working long enough at the library that he is going to earn some time off next year, and we'll actually be able to take a family vacation.  I have found a good babysitter who may be able to help ease some of the burden.  And lately I have felt very encouraged and supported by friends and family -- the more crappy stuff life flings at me, the more people have made a point of standing by me.  It means a lot.

Still stuck on what my word should be for the next year.  I have an image in my mind -- of me rising to the occasion, of being a different kind of mother than I thought I'd be.  A more active mother, one who manages crap like appointments and therapy plans, even though I'm scared of making phone calls and terrible about writing stuff on my calendar.  I meant to be a laid-back mother, one who trusted my kids to blossom into adults with help from me, but without any pushing.  But it's looking like I may have to take the lead more, seek out professional help, and make more concrete plans.  Already I've started being more of the leader in terms of Marko's schoolwork -- setting a time for it every day and choosing the work he'll do.  It doesn't suit me, but it suits him, and isn't that what it really means to follow the child?

Basically, I have to be way more type-A in the coming year than I want to be ... and I have to be that way despite any postpartum exhaustion I may have.  I have no idea how I'm going to make that happen, but I have to, because my kids need it.  I need to take charge of my life more.  I need to quit putting off going to the dentist and I need to schedule a physical and I need to buy new clothes.  The year when I feel totally prostrated by the increased demands on me is not a good time to do all that -- I was supposed to get a year when things steadied out so I could take care of things.  But that year did not come and I can't keep putting stuff off forever.  I have to find a way to be the person I need to be, regardless of how little that is like the person I am.  Comfort or accomplishing some of my own dreams will just have to be a project for another year.

Can you think of a one-word way to explain all that?

I've got a word

I didn't mean to spend New Year's Eve staying up all night, counting down till midnight and reflecting on my goals for the coming year ... but Miriam's teeth kept her and me awake, and so that is exactly what I did.  In my exhausted and half-asleep reflections, one word kept coming back to me:

TRUTH.

It's not an active word, which is good, because I don't know how active I will be able to be this year.  But it's not a passive word either -- if it turns out that I pull out of the tired phase and am able to accomplish stuff, there are things I can do to seek truth.

The other day I was talking to a friend about truth, beauty, and goodness, and I admitted I have often succumbed to the temptation to choose beauty that isn't good or isn't truthful.  There are beautiful things that aren't good -- for instance, I love novels with premarital sex in them, and they often portray beautiful relationships, but most of my readers would probably say that's not good.  Even goodness itself can be the wrong goal, because if you don't have the facts, you can find yourself adamantly pursuing goodness that isn't the real deal.  That's exactly what I did in Regnum Christi -- I felt the important thing was to Do the Right Thing, but I spent no time really discerning what the right thing was.  As a result, I did more harm than good.

I learned this year that you can't be good if you don't know the truth, and so truth ought to be the first thing I pursue, even before beauty and goodness, even though I prefer both of those.  Pursuing the truth is difficult and requires humility (to admit you may have been wrong in the past) and persistence (to refuse to settle for the obvious answer).  You have to learn to stop taking easy answers, blindly following feelings and hunches, or just tagging along with what your heroes think.  I don't mean to say that your heroes or your hunches are necessarily wrong, but that you don't know they're right until you've looked into them.

Our ability, as humans, to know the truth is limited.  For awhile I saw that as a reason to give up, to just admit I don't know anything so I could just do whatever seemed like a good idea.  But obviously you can know more or less of the truth.  Some ideas have more or less justification for them.  And given the choice between blindly guessing (and having a high chance of being wrong) and using all the available tools to get my best grasp on the truth to lower my risk of being wrong, I know which the smart and moral option is.  I mean, if you were sick, would you rather go to a shaman who said he had no idea what would cure you but he may as well try leeches, or a doctor who said the available treatment was not completely tested, but had been promising in initial trials?  There are never any guarantees in this life, but there are better and worse choices.

Beyond that philosophical side of the word, there's also a very practical issue I have with truthfulness.  I hate lying and try hard to avoid it, but I tend to omit a lot.  If a conversation will be emotionally-charged, I move heaven and earth to avoid having it.  If I think a friend might reject me -- if there's even an off-chance they might -- I hold back as much as possible of myself so that they won't.  Heck, even the way I dress is a bit untruthful.  I don't wear the clothes I like, because I'm afraid others won't like them and they'll reject me.  But isn't that hiding a truth about myself -- my actual personality and taste -- so that I can be a bland generic person that no one will reject, but no one will actually like either?

I suppose I'll have to ease into this.  Too much honesty can be a bad thing, and no one has the right to know everything about me.  But maybe it's time to buy a few pieces of clothing I actually like.  To put the colored streak in my hair I've wanted for years.  Admit to my friends that I disagree with their opinions once in awhile.  Tell my husband what I really want instead of saying "oh, I'm fine, I want nothing" -- an answer that's frustrated him for years, which I struggle very hard to stop giving.

And yeah, maybe start admitting to a larger circle of people that I don't believe.  I thought coming out on this blog would be the hard part, and everything after that would come naturally.  Instead, the only real-life friends who know are the ones who also read this blog, because I can't find it in me to bring it up.

I was afraid to choose this word because I am NOT ready for a big Facebook reveal and the reactions I know some people will have.  But I don't have to start there.  I could tell a few of my best friends and see how it goes.  No one has a right to know.  But on the other hand, I think I'm letting my fear keep me in a prison of others' expectations, and that I'll feel a lot better when I master that fear.  I also feel morally conflicted by the inherent dishonesty of letting people assume I'm on their team when I'm not.  I have coped with that all this year by continuing to go to church and saying, "Well, I still count as Catholic even though I believe none of it, because I practice."  But that's not entirely true anymore either, and so there's really no sense in which admitting to being Catholic is honest.

A couple of weeks ago we had a Catholic friend over.  We had a conversation about the Faith and I just went along with it, saying the sort of things that fit in with that conversation, even though I don't believe those things.  It felt safer than the alternative, at the time, but afterward I felt terrible.  I deceived my friend because I didn't trust his friendship far enough to admit the reality about myself.  How would I feel if someone did that to me?  Pretty crummy.  I have to do better, even if I'm still trying to figure out how.

So -- 2016 is the Year of Truth.  We'll see how I do.  At any rate, this blog has given me lots of practice -- I am honest here in a way I rarely am elsewhere.  (Though don't kid yourself -- I keep some stuff back.  I mean, it's the internet.)  Wish me luck.

Do you pick a word for the year?  What's yours?

Word for 2015

Last year it was "wait."  The year before it was "seek."  And before that, "understanding."  It's never hard to think of a word.  I think it's because constantly throughout the year I'm always sizing up how things are going, recalibrating my steering just a touch, watching as new challenges arise.

Anyway, for weeks I've been saying "oh, I don't know, I'll have to give it some thought," and so it was about two days short of the new year when I actually tried to come up with a word.  I closed my eyes and asked myself, "What is the word?"

It popped right in.  "Act."  Of course!

Last year was ROUGH.  The first three months of my journal are completely blank because I was so miserable I didn't even want to talk about it.  I was just so terrified to be pregnant.  I didn't say at the time, but the main meaning of "wait" was "don't panic till the baby actually appears, it might not be as bad as you think!"  As well as "wait" in the sense of, "Looks like this isn't going to be the year for you to make any progress on anything or accomplish a single one of your dreams."

It was a very passive year; it had to be.  But I hated that.  I hated that pregnancy is just something that happens to you.  Labor, too -- some people see it as something they do, but it's something that happens to me.  I felt very powerless, like changes were just thrust on me without my consent.  Good morning, you're too sick to eat breakfast!  Good evening, now your pants don't fit!  It felt unfair.  And I have never felt less happy to be a woman, because being a woman means having stuff happen to you, while the men are out there doing things.

Wait was a good word for it.  I think I learned a bit about passivity and how it's not always something to be ashamed of.  The ability to suffer a lot isn't necessarily less important than the ability to do a lot.  And my generally responsive stance toward the kids is generally a good thing -- I let them come to me, and they set the tone as to what sort of day they're having and so forth.

However, Miriam is four months old and I think I'm ready to start doing things again.  It was smart to ride the storm out while it was going by, but now that there's a little calm, it's time to pick up the oars and row.

First thing: I've been whining for months about how being highly sensitive is so awful and how overstimulating my life is.  One of the factors that is overstimulating to me right now is my hair.  It's all over my neck and that drives me nuts.  A ponytail bugs me too.  I prefer short hair, but I am always conflicted about it because my husband does like long hair and I feel like I'm supposed to prioritize being pretty for him.  Really, if it actually mattered to him, I would.  But he doesn't care much one way or the other, and it occurred to me he'd probably much rather see me with a smile than with long hair.  So it's time to ACT -- I'm getting a haircut again.

Another thing: sometimes when the kids are very crabby, I've discovered that it helps to just step in and take the lead, organize a game for them.  It goes against my nature -- I really prefer just letting them entertain themselves -- but I think sometimes they need it.  And if the kids need me to ACT, I will.

Another: I have resolved in past years not to hold in my opinions and issues in my marriage but instead address them, because my tendency is to repress things that could be emotionally dangerous.  (I can't say if I got that from my upbringing, or if that's cult trauma talking, but it's NOT GOOD.)  So again, if I have a problem, stop feeling sorry for myself and just ACT -- by forcing myself to communicate, even when I don't want to.  (Do I hear Salix Babylonica cheering me on?  Never say I don't listen to your lectures!)

Another: I have been a seeker, in terms of religion, for years.  On and on, it's a battle and I'm not really getting the answers the way I would like.  Every answer that works for me for awhile ends up getting shredded, and there are more questions.  I know those questions also (probably) have answers, but I'm exhausted.  It's so tempting to just give up.  But what has come very clear to me lately is that often theology is just a distraction from practice.  That is, regardless of what the answers to my questions are, I don't really have any doubts about what I'm supposed to be doing.  To act as a good Catholic acts is a pretty straightforward proposition, and it is also something I can clearly see as a good.  We've finally got a priest whose homilies don't make me want to storm out of the church -- he talks about what you can do practically in your life to put into practice the gospel reading for the day.  I like that.  There is always something I can be doing better.

There's not a lot I can do as far as the outside world goes -- I am not going to be running for office this year or getting a job.  "Act" doesn't mean anything that drastic for me.  But I would very much like to finish another book this year.  I'd like to spend more of my free time spinning and less vegging out.  I'm not going to resolve to do better with the housework, because let's be honest: it's not going to happen.  I will do what I can.  Anyway I'm lightyears ahead, housework-wise, from where I was when I first got married.

I'm looking forward to 2015 -- there's no reason it shouldn't be a good year.  Miriam will get bigger and eventually be playing with her brothers.  Spring is going to come, I'll get to go outside again, and I'll feel alive the way I only do outside.  Just not being pregnant makes me feel alive -- it is kinda great to be the only person living in your body.  I never appreciated that before!  I'll be writing, spinning, maybe hanging out with friends once in awhile.  I'll be paying down debt -- we hope to pay off one of our loans this year, which is wonderfully encouraging.  My "reward" for this is that some of the budget room that's freed up is going to go for spending money for me, which I've never actually had before.  I think maybe it's time for me to learn how to spend money on myself!  Not a lot, because frugality will probably be important for me till the day I die, even if I had a million dollars, but a little "fun money" nonetheless.  Hope I don't blow it all on cheese.

This is the last full year of my twenties; I can hardly believe it.  But there it is.  It'll be a good year, I'm deciding now.  And I will ACT to make it happen!

What are your resolutions?  Do you have a word?

Word for 2014

Do you ever choose a word to define your direction for the coming year?  Last year's word was "seek."  I did do some seeking.  Can't exactly say I did much finding, sigh.  But I have found that between the openmindedness of 2012 and the search for the truth in 2013, I have in fact learned a lot.  My opinions aren't always as simple, but they seem more honest.  With time, I have shed ideas that I just picked up by osmosis and never considered, and replaced them with a few things that I really am sure of.

When I look at my faith life, I don't feel I've made much progress.  I still am plagued by the same doubts I was a year ago.  But in one respect I've grown, and it's this: I have stopped holding back because of doubt, thinking I can't do anything until I'm more sure.  Instead I have been actively seeking truth -- and that means actual reading and praying.  I haven't been letting doubt be an excuse for apathy.  And I do feel good about that.

It didn't take me long to choose my word for 2014.  It never does -- every year I've done this, there is one word that comes straight to my mind, and there is never any other word that seems right.  When I closed my eyes and asked myself, "What is the word?" the answer was instant:

WAIT.

It's strange, last year was more active than previously, and I thought maybe this year I'd "close" a little more and have a word with more answers attached.  But "wait" feels right.

It first occurred to me from thinking about the kids.  The number one thing I want to do better as a mother is to yell less.  I get caught by surprise by a disaster -- oatmeal poured on the floor, milk spilled on the couch -- and before I even know what I'm doing, I'm yelling at everybody.  It's like I feel the need to react instantly.  I need to remember that unless someone is bleeding, it's always okay to wait until I am calm before trying to act.  To bite back the first two or three things that come to my mouth and wait till I have something kind to say.  So this meaning of "wait" is just about patience, being patient with my children.

But with faith as well, I think it's time to wait.  Someone pointed out (it was probably Enbrethiliel) that faith is a gift.  I got upset, because I thought, "Is the only reason I struggle to believe because God refuses to give me a gift he's given so many other people?"

Then I remembered that I am 27 years old.  I don't know how many years I will live, but God does.  I don't think he intends to leave me hanging forever.  I think he has a path in mind for me to come to him, and if I draw as close to him as I can and wait for his response, he will come to me.  All I have to do is be there, to stay where he can find me, doing my part, but without imagining it all depends on me.  God's way of finding me, my way of finding him, is unique and maybe it's going to take time.

"With an anvil-ding
     And with fire in him forge thy will
Or rather, rather then, stealing as spring
     Through him, melt him but master him still:
  Whether at once, as once at a crash Paul,
     Or as Austin, a lingering-out sweet skill,
  Make mercy out of all of us, out of us all
Mastery, but be adored, but be adored King."
                        (Gerard Manley Hopkins, of course)

The third thing that is troubling me right now is impatience.  How badly I want to have a farm.  How little progress it seems like we're making.  We can't get out of here until we've paid down our debt (or raised our income by a lot), and the progress is so slow.  It seems I'll never have my dream, not even a tiny bit of it.

But every single month, we have less debt.  It may be a tiny bit, but we are moving.  Despite all the setbacks, the car repairs and the inflation and the grocery bill that's double what we spent a few short years ago, we are making progress.  All I have to do is wait.  God willing, we'll get a raise or a better job and be able to make faster progress, but even if we don't, that debt will be gone someday.  I need to stop complaining.

Last of all, I need to deal with my worries for the future.  When I think about the future lately, I start to panic.  What if inflation really does spiral completely out of control, what will we do if John loses his job, how do I know things will be okay?  And the answer to that, too, is wait.  I can't solve tomorrow's problems today.  All I can solve (if I'm lucky) are today's problems.  Sufficient for a day is its own evil.

Do you have a word for 2014?

Goals and a word for 2013

I kid you not, I started writing "2012."  That year went by really fast.  So did January, which is why this is getting posted on the 30th and not the 1st.

Last year, I heard about the idea of choosing a single word to define what you wanted the next year to look like.  I chose "understanding."  I felt that if I sought first to understand rather than assume, judge, or leap into action, I would make fewer hasty mistakes.  Particularly I was thinking of understanding Marko, who was aggravating me constantly at that age.  I knew that most of his actions weren't motivated by intentional rebellion, but were coming from feelings he had that I was failing to understand.  When I would lose my temper at him, it was because I was making assumptions instead of asking myself why he did those things.

Working on understanding was very fruitful.  When I took the time to try, it was usually very easy to see what was going on.  He would spill an entire gallon of juice on the floor ... because he desperately wanted to be a big boy and do it all by himself, and didn't realize that it was too heavy for him.  He would melt down every day at 11 a.m. ... because breakfast was too small to last him till noon.  Trying to understand these things made me a lot more gentle and patient with him.

But it ended up going much further than Marko.  I tried to understand my husband, and realized (yet again) that he is his own person with his own issues, and that most of the time the things he did that offended me weren't about me at all.  I tried to understand liberals, and atheists, and traditionalists, and pacifists, and veterans, and I found that all of these efforts made me more kind, more open-minded, less quick to judge.  To paraphrase the Moody Blues, whenever I was angry, or knew hurt, or felt fear, it was because I was not understanding.

The trouble is that this will only take you so far.  Enbrethiliel has an absolutely gorgeous comment on the previous post about the dangers of putting yourself in other people's shoes.  The fact is that not all ideas are equal, and just because I understand where their advocates are coming from doesn't mean I should adopt all those ideas wholesale.

This year, and the past few months in particular, I've been feeling a kind of anxiety about the things I think and believe.  I'm beginning to realize that I don't know nearly as much as I think I know.  Especially this has affected my faith.  I have had an extensive religious education, more than most people ever get.  I read a good chunk of the catechism by the time I hit high school, went to a boarding school that spent more time on religion and related topics than all the other subjects put together, and then went to Christendom, which makes you take three years of core courses in theology AND philosophy.  I know a LOT about Catholic dogma.

But this knowledge has given me a kind of pride, as if I know God because I know about God.  The fact is that I don't.  God himself, what he is like, what he might say to me if he were sitting across the room for me right now, is a big puzzle.  It's not a puzzle I expect to have all figured out in this life.  But it's a puzzle worth working on, not worth shoving into a corner of my mind because my ignorance is so uncomfortable.

This is a long wind-up to telling you what my word for 2013 is.  The word is "seek."  I want to seek God.  I want to seek the truth.  I want to move on from open-mindedly considering viewpoints, and start sorting out the good from the bad and really finding out, to the extent my limited intellect can, what the truth is about everything.

Ambitious, no?

Meanwhile I have some really practical resolutions:

1.  Finish my novel.

2.  Finish my children's prayer book.

3.  Launch my home business.

4.  Grow more of my own food.

5.  Improve my physical fitness.  (Not by exercising per se.  But increasing my overall activity level and perhaps throwing in some squats or stretches when I have a moment.)

Not on the list, for the first time since I got married, is either "get pregnant" or "have a baby."  But you never do know.

What do you want to do in 2013?  (That is, in the other eleven months of it, yikes!)

Looking back at 2011

It's pretty sad when you have to look back through your blog archives to find out what your New Years' resolutions were. But I did it, and it's time to report:

1. Eat better. Less sugar and grains. Yes, I did this. I virtually eliminated sugar and we went grain-free from time to time. I can't seem to sustain being grain-free for very long, though. I get so hungry and end up eating a lot of expensive food ... For all their faults, grains are a cheap source of calories, and I eat a lot.

Then I got pregnant, and I stopped being so healthy. I know pregnancy is when it's most important to eat well. But it's also when you don't feel like the healthy food in your fridge, and you do feel like Taco Bell. I still don't eat a lot of sugar ... unless it's Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or someone made me cookies, or there's a party ... yeah. I find it almost impossible to turn down food that is available and delicious. For the first trimester, I hated sugar but loved processed fast food. Now, I want both. The amount of chocolate I eat is ridiculous. On the bright side, I think we ate even less processed food this year than last year, thanks to our garden and various elimination diets.

2. Pray better. Not really. I did try, and ended up about the same. I guess it would have been worse if I hadn't tried?

3. Be a better housekeeper. YES, I definitely did this. However, I also have more space to clean and it gets messier faster, due to the addition of a dog and the ever-increasing mess-making ability of the toddler. At least I am keeping pace with it. Sometimes I do dishes every single day! And that's without the dishwasher I used to have! When I was in the first trimester, I barely did a thing and we wobbled between John doing it and living in squalor. But now it's at least relatively decent all the time, and I do some housework every day.

4. To buy a house. We did this! And it's been great! When John had the two-hour commute, it was great for us and awful for him. Now that he's working closer, it's better in every respect than where we used to live. I have the garden, we have a dog (for better or worse), Marko has his own room, we spend less on housing every month (and it all goes toward owning this place for real), John's commute is shorter, the traffic and neighborhood are better ... it's great. I guess I do miss the apartment complex pool. I hardly ever used it when we lived there, but I would have loved to take Marko there this past summer.

5. To actually address stuff I'm angry about instead of stewing on it forever. All that really took was making the decision to do it -- and I'm positive that it helped. When I chose to remain silent about it, it was with the understanding that I had decided it was not a big deal and that I was going to get over it. When it was a big deal, I addressed it. And I do think we get along better when I am straightforward like that.

What has really made the biggest difference in our overall happiness, I admit, was not my new resolution but John's new job. Actually getting to spend time with each other and getting some rest was a really big deal. But what I've been doing hasn't seemed to have hurt.

6. To get another baby cooking. Check!


Here are ten of my favorite posts from the past year:

Conflict vs. cooperation This Russian novel of a post is probably my #1 favorite. I'm just a way better parent when I think of my child as a teammate rather than an adversary.

Lessons from my first garden Rookie gardeners might find it helpful to learn from my mistakes.

A person's a person Life has value. All life. That is why I'm against abortion, most war, and capital punishment.

Why I don't want another hospital birth Home birth can be just as safe or safer than a hospital birth in a healthy woman having a normal pregnancy ... so I'm having one this time.

Gender equality - I don't actually believe in the subordination of women, at least not in any really practical sense.

"Let kids be kids" - I think it's okay to give kids responsibilities. I don't think it's okay to let kids watch R-rated movies. Let's make a distinction, all right?

The fallacy of results "Here's the deal: there is more that matters besides how a child will 'turn out.' I'm not just raising the adult he will someday become. I'm raising the child I actually have."

Birth scars You never do forget what the moment of your child's birth was like. I wish the moment of Marko's birth were a happier memory.

Food sensitivities When I see odd symptoms in my son, I always look first to what he's eating. This is an instructional post with everything I've learned about food sensitivities.

Teaching vs. training You train a dog. You teach a child. This post is mainly about teaching children to deal with their big emotions.

Enjoy your New Years! I will be ringing it in by going to bed before ten and (hopefully) sleeping like a log all night. But if Marko's cough keeps up, I may find myself watching the clock turn over after all.