On Motherhood

I received a comment on the motherhood section of my June 11 blog entry. Since it has been so long since I posted the original I thought Mary D's thoughts warranted their own post.

Ah, Mary, how blessed we are to be among seemingly only a few women who remain unfettered to the shackles of Feminism! So many who have abandoned their husbands, children, and home in pursuit of 'freedom' and 'self' and 'personal development' discover themselves to be in a state more miserable and less fulfilled than the first. It is admitable that homemaking is not always personally fulfilling. It is admitable that wifehood and motherhood does not bring us true, everlasting fulfillment - but that is only because we are sinners, sinned-against, in a terribly fallen world. To the degree we receive and live in the Paradise Christ Jesus regained for us and gifts us in His Means - and to the degree we maintain the natural design and order of the family - we have that much fulfillment in our roles as wives and mothers. In this life we will never be as perfectly content as Eve was before the Fall, but, we do experience many times of being almost that content, almost that needed, almost that useful, and almost that much personally developed. Those who reject their natural roles - their very reasons for even existing - and run here and there looking for Paradise where it is simply not found, are doomed to never even almost come close to knowing who they are or how to be fulfilled. In Christ and also in God's wisdom about families and order, females and their roles, you and I, as wives and mothers, indeed possess the 'secrets' to fulfillment that so many desperately long for. Just when you think it doesn't get any worse, girlfriend, let me tell you from what I've seen in Mendocino County amongst my secular friends, it doesn't get any better than what you've got! Praise Him who has SO blessed us! -Mary D.

Thanks Mary D.

Apology, Excuses, Etc.

OK, I know it's been forever since I wrote anything here. I have several really compelling and relevant posts in my head. They never seem to get on the computer. Here are my excuses. Pick the one you like the best and roll with it.

1) I hate to get interrupted half way through an entry. Since I have so many lengthy and interesting thoughts rattling around in my brain, I have had to deprive you of them all for the sake of not being interrupted.

2) I am so self-disciplined that I have had to deny myself the pleasure of writing so that I can focus on other more important things. Putting in a garden, going to Denver for a book signing, cleaning up John's and Stella's latest disasters, reading a few books here and there,...

3) I am expecting another baby in December and so have been sort of out of commission for a few months.

That's the best I can come up with. Hopefully sometime soon I can get caught up with all my thoughts. They are starting to vie for the limited number of available brain cells, so I better get them down soon.

A Plum Lot of Thoughts on Life

First of all, this weather.

I try to never complain about the weather. I know that God has is all planned out. And that although a certain set of meteorological conditions may not be to my liking, it is probably necessary in some way to somebody.

That said, this weather really stinks. It is nearly the middle of June. I have periodically thought, living here in the far northern reaches of Minnesota where we have a last average frost date of May 31, and a first average frost date of September 1, that we have a week to plant our gardens. If we do it earlier than June 1, the seeds rot in the ground or the seedlings freeze. If we get later than the first week of June, nothing will mature before it freezes again.

Well this year we have had rain and wind almost non-stop from the last week of May through the present. Needless to say, I have no garden in. I did get my new strawberry patch put in. I got Joe's asparagus be cleaned out. Matt got part of the sweet corn area worked up for planting. But that is it.

My seed potatoes are cut and ready and molding on my garage freezer. They are really late. My seed packets all sit idle. I bought started plants yesterday even for cucumbers and herbs, things I usually just plant from seed in the garden.

I had to laugh today, as I sad huddled in the living room, fending of the chill from the constant wind and drizzle. I was reading Three to Get Deadly, and came upon the following description.

It was another gray day with a light rain beginning to fall. Temperatures were in the fortes, so nothing was freezing.

The thing is, in the story, it was January.

Thank you to our law enforcement relations and friends.

I think of you each time I read this section. I am sure Trenton does not have a monopoly on overworked officers. I think this passage from Three to get Deadly expresses well what you do for us all.

I watched him walk down the hall and disappear into the elevator. Only an idiot would think they could talk to Morelli and not be talking to Morelli the cop. Cops never stopped being cops. It had to be the hardest job.

Trenton cops wore more hats than I could name. They were arbitrators, social workers, peacekeepers, baby-sitters and law enforcers. Their job was boring, terrifying, disgusting, exhausting and often made no sense at all. The pay was abysmal, the hours were inhuman, the department budget was a joke, the uniforms were short in the crotch. And year after year after year, the Trenton cops held the city together.

On Motherhood

From Two for the Dough.

We had warm homemade apple pie for dessert. The apples were tart and cinnamony. The crust was flaky and crisp with a sprinkling of sugar. I ate two pieces and almost [fainted]. "You should open a bakery," I said to my mother. "You could make a fortune selling pies."

She was busy stacking pie plates and gathering up silverware. "I have enough to do to take care of the house and your father. Besides, if I was going to go to work, I'd want to be a nurse. I've always thought I'd make a good nurse."

Everyone stared at her openmouthed. No one had ever heard her voice this aspiration. In fact, no one had ever heard her voice any aspiration that didn't pertain to new slipcovers or draperies.

When I read this passage I am always reminded of the days I feel like I am losing myself in motherhood and homemaking. Like I no longer have anything to offer the world but supper and clean laundry.

My second thought is then usually one of guilt realizing that my Aunt Joan, who raised my sister and me--and her own six children-- probably also felt this way.

As children, we notice those things our mothers don't get right. We probably remember periodically to thank them for the dinner. But other than that we don't really think much about them. We are consumed with our own little world.

Only later, when we ourselves are mothers or fathers, can we imagine that perhaps our own mothers and fathers had never-fulfilled hopes and dreams and aspirations. Hopes and dreams and aspirations that they set on the back burner never to be revisited. Instead they dedicated themselves to bringing up their children "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord."

And compared to that, what higher calling is there. Really. I wouldn't trade motherhood for anything.

But there are days...

Here's the mathematical limerick answer.

A Dozen, a Gross and a Score,
Plus three times the square root of four,
Divided by seven,
Plus five times eleven,
Equals nine squared and not a bit more.

Again, the original.

((12 + 144 + 20 + (3 * 4^(1/2))) / 7) + (5 * 11) = 9^2 + 0

I was unfamiliar with the carrot ^ being used to indicate the square function. But after I got that worked out, with ^1/2 half indicating square root and ^2 indicating square, it all made sense. But that ^ thing was new to me.

Limerick in Mathmatical Notation

I got this in an e-mail today. I thought it was cute. I will post the verbal rendition in a few days.

This poem was written by John Saxon (the author of Saxon Math textbooks).

((12 + 144 + 20 + (3 * 4^(1/2))) / 7) + (5 * 11) = 9^2 + 0

Obscurity

I have periodically been accused of making obscure comments. I have had to apologize for strange and unusual comments to which others can not relate. Apparently my last post was one of those times.

I am a bit disappointed in my Jane Austen fan readers, however. Come on. Divierten muchisimo! To me that phrase just screamed out "exceedingly diverted."

As in, "Come now, Lizzie. Are you not diverted?"

"Oh. Yes, yes. Indeed, I am exceedingly diverted."

Can't you just see the Spanish subtitles? "Si, si. Divertiero muchisimo."

Since as I said, I kind of guess at Spanish, I am sure my tenses, people and number are screwy, but I think you get the point. (Of course, I guess I thought the whole thing was obvious, so perhaps I should not assume others are on my planet, now should I?)

I did have one brave reader who made a diverting comment. The anonymous reader wondered, "Depends on which grandmas; It is either having a good time or much driven crazy."

Streams of Spanish Consciousness?

OK, many of my readers may have no clue what this is about. You will just have to be patient and wait for any responses.

But from the comments I received on other posts along the same vein, I am going out on a limb here. I am banking on at least some readers enjoying this as I did.

We have several Spanish/English story books that we keep lying around in the hopes that one or another of us will pick them up and learn some Spanish. Periodically, my husband or I will pick one up during our cup of coffee time. One of us reads in Spanish while the other tries to guess the meaning. Since Joe has actually studied a bit of Spanish in a school setting he is usually the guesser, while I am usually the reader.

Yesterday we were reading Una visita a la abuelita from the Las aventuras de Nicolas series by Berlitz kids. This is a nice series that starts with a story (in both Spanish and English) in a basal reader style, so that many words are repeated several times to facilitate vocabulary development. The book has an audio CD that includes the story in Spanish, a audio of the picture dictionary that one finds at the back of the book, and several fun kids songs for which both the Spanish and English are in the book. It is very child friendly. The series is available in many languages.

To return to the story we were reading yesterday, A Visit to Grandma, there was point in the story at which Grandma's guests were said to be "divierten muchisimo." Now the book insisted the phrase ought to be translated, "having a wonderful time."

I would have translated it differently. Any guesses?