The Two-Edged Sword

I went and got a haircut yesterday.  No, I did not do anythings dramatic to my hair.  But like you really care about that.  My dear friend, who I drive 30 minutes one-way to have cut my hair, asked how things were going.  I usually only have her do my hair 2 or 3 times a year so we always have a lot to catch up on.  I told her about my dumb SI joint that's causing me pain, about Tyler's new job as a parole agent and how he's currently in the police academy for it.  I told her some of the things I'm learning these days.  Blah, blah, blah.  Typical girl talk stuff.  She asked me how I'm managing.  I really didn't have any answer for her.  Um, do any of us ever feel like we're actually successfully dealing with our lives?  Sure, I have moments when I think, "Wow!  I've really got it together."  That happened yesterday morning.  It was all shattered by about 8:15 am.  Yep, that's how that usually goes.  Maybe I'm the only one, but I'm kinda thinking that if anyone thinks they actually have it all together, they be a lying to themselves, or need to wait a little while.  It's kinda like Utah weather. If you don't like it, wait 10 minutes.

My point: crap happens to us all.  Sure, we could throw our hands in the air and give up.  I personally have too much fire in my soul for that.  Giving up isn't really in my DNA.  My maiden name is Waddell.  I come from a line of overly stubborn farmers who helped settle the Teton Valley.  My mother's maiden name is Stevens.  Again, a geneology of fighters.  Both sides of my family have pioneer stock.  Um these people did not back down. Then again, you look back 150+ years and most everyone was that way.  What other choice did they have?  What happened to our generation?  I dunno, but that's a conversation for another day.

The way I see it, the unpleasantries that happen to us can be opportunities.  Yeah, I know, you've heard that before and if you're like me, you usually want to crawl into a hole and not exist for a while when seriously hard things hit the fan hoping they'll disappear.  It wasn't too long ago that I looked at my life and seriously didn't believe I had what it took to live it and come out on top.  I wanted to run away and literally not exist anymore.  I knew my life was OK and that it was full of so many wonderful things, despite Derek's leukemia, but I didn't like myself in it.  I felt like I just kept botching it up, like I couldn't get it together, like everything was going to break because I kept failing.

First of all, I wasn't failing, but my perfectionism didn't let me see it that way.  Second, the whole saying of what doesn't kill you makes you stronger began to mean a whole lot more.  I kept surviving day after day, month after month.  Crazy.  Third, that second thing is true because of Jesus Christ.  He paid the ultimate price and part of his infinite sacrifice includes something called Grace.  It's divine assistance given when we, as humans, don't have the capacity to do what our lives require.  In the period of my life I just mentioned, when I thought my life would fall apart at the seams, I sure didn't have what it took, of myself, to do all that was required.  But everything worked out and moved on because of Grace.  We get to try again tomorrow because of Grace.  Second and thirty-second chances are because of Grace.

Ok, back to Life's crap being an opportunity... We all have a choice to let God in or not.  He will never force us.  He gave us agency.  Why would He mess with it?  He doesn't.  If we choose to let God in, especially during times of upheaval, we feel His love, His comfort, His help.  His love is perfect and can heal all.  I've felt it time and time again.  I felt it when my father passed away all-of-a-sudden, when my own emotions were so raw and my whole system was in shock.  I felt it the day before we found out Derek has leukemia because God knew I would need an extra dose due to what was about to go down.  I feel it when I look at my darling children (I'm not talking about the moments when I want to sell them to the gypsies).  I feel it when I read His word, go to church, etc.

Another time I feel that love is when I serve others.  Is it hard to reach out when your own life feels so outta control?  Um, A LOT- at least for me.  But our trials give us the maximum opportunity to develop that perfect Christlike love.  Yes, we feel it as we struggle coming directly from Him, but there's another avenue: outward.

Every time I hear of someone's father dying there's a part of me that aches and mourns and weeps for them.  I know how much I still miss my own father, how I long to talk to him, hug him, watch him play with my children.  I cannot describe how that all hurts, still, after 11 years.  Is he where he needs to be?  Yes.  Will I see him again?  I'm 100% sure.  I still miss him though.  That's why I feel the way I do when I know of someone else who has recently lost their father.  I "get it."  Is my life identical to theirs?  No, duh.  But I have a new level of compassion.  I wouldn't have that if I hadn't been through my own father passing.

That's where the other avenue of Christ's love comes in.  In the Garden of Gethsemane He suffered for our sins, and everything else.  He literally felt all that we have ever felt or will feel.  He really does "get it" as if he really were you and me. So, when we have been through something similar to that of someone else, we can feel a new love and compassion for that person.  We know better how to comfort them.  We have a better idea of what to say, what to do, etc.  We are given challenges in life to provide such opportunities, to develop charity: the pure love of Christ.

I don't know about anyone else, but in my efforts to turn the lemons of my life into refreshing lemonade, I make lots and lots of messes.  I yell at my kids, I over-react to things, I get a certain degree of road rage, my husband drives me crazy, I get extremely frustrated with myself.  Guess what?  I'm finding that most of us do.  And it's okay.  It's just like learning music or a sport, or anything else: keep practicing.  When you see someone at their worst, keep in mind they're in practice mode too.  When you're the one in the vulnerable state having a messy day and others see it, don't be afraid.  Own it.  I think we could do a lot less pretending we've got it together (or thinking everyone else does), and a lot more opening up to others- listening to someone in need, smiling and encouraging the mother in the supermarket whose child is throwing a tantrum, not judging the woman who is picking up her kid from school in her PJs, and not worrying about what others might think. It's not worth it!  Life is too short for such nonsense, and yet, here we find ourselves time and time again stuck in such ruts.  At least I do.  Someone please tell me I'm not the only one with lemon juice, sugar, water, and lemon zest all over my kitchen. And if I am, oh well.  The cat is out of the bag now.  Oh wait, I don't like cats.  Too late.

One more thing: my SI joint (where your tailbone connects to your hip bone- sing the song if you'd like).  It moves too much because my most inner abdominal muscle is significantly weaker than the 3 more superficial ab muscles.  Yeah I know you really wanted to know that, not really.  It's got me thinking: what's the soft under belly that needs strengthening metaphorically?  My conclusion: gratitude.  Gratitude is a catalyst that leads to all other virtues.  It leads to faith, obedience to God, hope, love, true conversion, etc.  Anywho, that's some cud I'm still chewing on a lot.

Tally ho!

Make it Stop!

Time.  It's only for us mortals, something God created just for our lives here on earth.  I have a dysfunctional relationship with Time.  I want more hours in the day to get more done, like many people I know (but then there's always the debate of whether or not that would actually happen).  I give myself deadlines for things that really don't have deadlines and then beat myself up for not meeting my own pointless requirements.  I want Time to stop rather often when it comes to my children growing up.  This is the most unfair part of parenthood- Time is robbing me of my babies!  Why do they have to grow up so fast?!!  Not fair.  Then there are the moments that can't get here fast enough- my recovery from injury, date night with Tyler, the day when I can go for a run and not have to worry someone is home with our children, the day when my children can get breakfast without my assistance.  I just can't win.  Deep breaths.

Summer is the absolute best season.  Period.  Well, except where I grew up- the Phoenix Valley.  It's Hades' realm, no joke.  I really don't understand why there are so many people that live there!  Ok, rant over.  Summer in the Salt Lake Valley is much, much better.  Yes, it gets hot, but not 105+ hot.  It cools of at night.  The mountains are super close, there are lakes to boat in, swimming pools to enjoy, a fantastic growing season for gardening, and much more.  Well, as Time would have it, the most wonderful time of the year ends shortly.  Boo, hiss.  Derek and I haven't really discussed the upcoming school year because I'm in denial.  Good thing he loves school anyways.

Last summer was the summer from Hell.  Our lives exploded- new baby, fender bender, my mom almost died, and Derek got diagnosed with leukemia.  BOOM!  This summer has been a dream!  I enjoyed a sisters retreat in Park City, ran my favorite half marathon with my phenomenal oldest sister, got in a quick visit to the Tetons for my uncle's funeral (I learned A LOT about family- more on that later), had a fun Waddell family reunion in Boise (fabulous half-day river rafting trip among other fun adventures), and got to spend a few days at Flaming Gorge with the Canova's.  Really, this all has to end?  I'm not convinced.  Guess I'm not in control.  All in all, that's probably a good thing.

Not too long ago Derek said he sometimes forgets he has cancer.  Going in every 4th Thursday sure allows for more normalcy.  As luck would have it, one of said treatments was the same day as my uncle's funeral up in Teton Valley.  That meant Tyler stayed behind to take him.  I drove up to Heaven on Earth with my mom, Benjamin, and Zachary.  My youngest sure learned the meaning of road trips this summer!  As much as I love the Tetons, our little trip was disastrous.  Zac struggled in the car a bit, both Ben and Zac didn't want me to leave them for a second at my aunt's bed and breakfast (keep in mind they're both every independent children), and their behavior during the actual funeral was deplorable.  Who's children were these anyways?  My cousin's 7 children were behaving perfectly!  What gives?!  I wanted to check myself in to a crazy house.  I seriously asked myself why I even bothered going on that little trip.

At one point while I sat on the floor of the nursery in the church during the funeral, my mother told me my late father was proud of me.  Sure, Mom.  I was a complete basket case right then.  What was there to be proud of- a complete lunatic for a daughter?  Right...

Originally  my reasoning had everything to do with my uncle taking my dad's place at my wedding.  Out of all my dad's brothers, I felt the most connected with him.  Sure, I hadn't seen him in years, but so what?  Then, the reality of being there with the aforementioned behavior of Ben and Zac, I wondered what I'd been thinking.  Sometimes I just get too confident.  It felt like it was back-firing big time.

After I got home, I was able to review those 2 days from a different perspective.  I remembered the stories my mom told me in the car of some of my ancestors.  I watched my dad's siblings interact with each other (there are 9 total, 3 of which have passed away).  These are people I've known and loved my whole life. I saw more of them this time than ever before.  I saw some of the same behaviors and tendencies in myself.  I understood more of where I come from.  I understood why family matters, why societies hinge on how they define it.  And I grew to love mine (immediate and distant) even more.  Thankfully the price to learn that was just a few emotional days- my children weren't sold to the gypsies, and I refrained from checking myself in to that crazy house (probably because I didn't know where the closest one was).

And so, Time keeps moving forward. School starts for Derek soon, Benjamin's 2nd year of preschool is pending, Zachary keeps growing (despite me ordering him to stop), and my gray hairs keep multiplying.  Whad'ya gonna do?  I'd like to say I'm going to embrace it, but I know myself better than that.  I'll probably keep kicking against the pricks, try to do too much in a given period of time, and get frustrated, yet again, that I couldn't be superhuman and get more done.  When X genes start manifesting themselves, I already know what one I want- Class V, a Phoenix.  All or nothing.

Til then, I guess I'll keep trying to live by faith, love and forgive more, serve my neighbor, and get my injured legs and hips back out on the road running lots of miles, and fast.  I guess the fact that Time never does stop isn't so bad.  There is a lot to look forward to.

Half Full of Half Empty?

Months ago as Hillary and Trump continued winning primary elections, there was a 325% increase in searches associated with what it takes for an American to move to Canada.  I'd love to say I was a part of that 325%, but I wasn't.  What I want to know is who are these people that keep voting for 1. a known traitor, and 2. a complete lunatic?  Jeez!  I'd better stop on the subject before the computer blows up or something.

Then there were those in an outrage at the mother of the boy who fell into the gorilla enclosure in Cincinnati.  Really people?  That poor mother is torturing herself enough.  I assure you.  Let's just say the direction in which our society and culture are headed seriously scares me.  Who are these people and out of what holes do they keep crawling out?!  Apparently said holes are in more abundance than I supposed.  Good grief!

Ok.  Rant over.  I think.

The past little while grumpiness has seemed to overtake the Canova household.  Tyler's job royally sucks.  I'm sure lots of people say that about their jobs and I don't discredit their suckiness.  His supervision can't seem to make up their minds as to what they want the correction officers to do, like Tyler, Every day it's a guessing game.  Add to that he deals with people on parole for various things and you get a man who easily gets frustrated.  I think if I were in his shoes I would've completely lost it by now and be twitching in an insane asylum somewhere.

But, there's hope now.  We know for sure he'll be promoted to parole officer soon.  When exactly?  It's a mystery.  This is the government, remember?

Derek's counts significantly dropped about 3 or 4 weeks ago.  Again.  Unfortunately that meant the poor kid missed even more school, including all the fun end-of-year stuff.  I really hope he doesn't remember that.  Therefore he's been a little extra edgy.  That rolls over to his brother Benjamin.  There have been many days I've wondered if the gypsies were taking new children.

I'm injured.  I haven't been this down and out from running since 2008.  At least that, I guess.  That means I don't get as much happy juice in my system since running is the most effective way to fill that cup.

Then there's Zachary.  Thank goodness for that little ray of sunshine.  God knew I'd need that with the storm that ensued shortly after he was born.

I don't mean to make it sound like I have a monopoly on hardship.  Thank goodness I don't!  I've realized more than ever that you can find just about anything to complain about.  You can also find just about anything to be grateful for.  What do you want?  Personally, I like the latter option.  By far.

Probably about 6 weeks ago my in-laws showed up with a trampoline to put in our yard.  Yes, they really are that ridiculously awesome.  The frame was from when Tyler was a child.  They'd just purchased a new bed.  It has been a magnet for my 2 older boys since.  They jump on it almost every day, multiple times.  I am proud to say that I taught them the fun-ness (yes, it's a word- cuz I said) of getting the trampoline wet.  They were doing that even before the blazing temperatures of summer arrived.  There was one day Benjamin went through 4 outfits because he kept getting wet on the tramp, and therefore really cold.

The grass underneath the trampoline is now lush and beautiful.  I won't mention what the rest of the grass looks like.  Let's just say we got a brochure from the Scotts lawn service today with a little checklist of what's wrong with it.  I threw it away.  I got bigger fish to fry and other places to spend my money at the moment.  Thank you.

We've planted a garden.  I always love watching things grow and cultivating them.  It's quite the thrill for me.  We'll see what kind of harvest we get.  I'm rather hopeful.

I want to paint lots of the inside of my house.  I know, like that's noteworthy.  Just wait.  Months ago I picked out a color for the living room and hallway.  Just the other day Benjamin and I got started (what a "helper!").  Due to some time constraints I (ahem, I mean we) didn't get very far.  Later that day I realized I'd picked the wrong color.  There goes $35.  Not a bank-breaker, but it's still $35.  Grrr.  So, I then did the smart thing and bought a few of the $3 sample jars of paint to try out some other colors.  Sometimes I guess my sub-conscious likes to do things backwards.  Gotta reign that in!  My poor husband just shakes his head at me.

Well folks, here's to summer!  Here's to popsicles, swim lessons, hikes, splash pads (where were those when I was a kid?!), camping, fishing, sidewalk chalk, trampolines with sprinklers, vacation, and hopefully Mindy's return to running.  Long live Summer!