Don’t flay the sheep.

Countdown

As my OB/GYN put it, “And now it’s time to get serious.” (“Serious about what?” I said. “Having this baby.” “Oh.”)

So, here’s the checklist of what I think I have to do before this kid can show up:

1. Clean the house. And keep it clean.

2. Organize the following closets and/or drawers: hallway, linen, pantry, silverware, junk drawer, underwear, dishes (to make room for bottles even though they won’t get used for a month or two), tea and coffee cupboard; Zora’s bathroom drawers; Zora’s closet.

3. Take a picture of the belly. To show how huge it is, but preferably casting it in a flattering light as well.

4. Spend as much time as possible convincing Zora that she is still as precious as she’s probably felt functioning as an only child for the last couple years.

5. Finish a batch of shower thank you notes.

6. Get someone to take home our gently used full size mattress…we don’t have space to store it, but it’s in too good of shape to leave at the curb.

7. Make up for the journalling up to baby’s arrival that I SWORE I would do starting a few months ago.

8. Finish tying together work details.

9. Clean my office.

10. Have out of office messages ready for e-mail and voice-mail.

11. Disable work e-mail on phone so that I don’t check it while on leave.

12. Figure out if the cloth diapers are truly washed and ready to go or if, as I’m starting to read on internet postings, they need to be prewashed even more times to avoid water beading up on them.

13. Finish knitting: 3 wool diaper covers; a Christmas (2010) present for my cousin; seaming on a baby sweater.

14. Finish sewing the new crib skirt.

15. Finish nagging Erik to move the futon and set up the crib in the office (even though the baby is all set with a cradle and mini nursery set-up in our bedroom for the next few months anyway).

16. Clean off the front of the fridge.

17. Get Zora to finish her preschool valentines early so that I don’t have to worry about that if I’m too pregnant to care, in labor, or just home with the baby when that holiday comes around.

18. Pack my hospital suitcase (Seriously, I have yet to do this. The suitcase is under my bed with a pair of slippers in it. I know this is pathetic.)

19. Write up Zora’s daily schedule for a sample week so that whoever takes care of her can know what needs to be done.

20. Make up for the birthing exercises that I haven’t done quite enough of (although, I realize it’s a bit of a lost cause…Oh, well…I did some of them!!)

21. Clean the fridge.

The point of that list being, of course, that clearly all of this is not going to get done. Which is perhaps good training for adding an additional child to the mix.

In fact, here’s the list of what I really need to do for this baby to show up:

1. Go into labor.

2. Head for the hospital.

Everything else is just going to have to fall into place.

[ Filed under Journal | 1 Comment ]

Before the storm

We’re supposed to get a big snowstorm today.

Chicago has sort of escaped the wacky weather this winter, so I’ll believe it when I see it.

But we were out of bread so I stopped on my way home late last night to get a loaf. TJs had nothing but pita bread left. And certain other things were off the shelves as well. I’m not convinced that everyone in the store was going to starve if they didn’t stock up.

I did, however, use the impending disaster as leverage to convince Erik to finally get the garage organized so that I can park the car.

While I hope everyone stays safe and doesn’t do any crazy driving if things get bad, I feel ready.

Anyone want to take bets about whether or not the baby, though, will decide this might be an opportune occasion to arrive? I believe Zora was born during a thunderstorm, so if this little guy wants to keep up with his big sister, now might be the time.

[ Filed under Uncategorized | 1 Comment ]

Tears and Spaceships

Tomorrow is the 25th anniversary of the Challenger disaster.

Many people my age (like my husband) were sitting in classrooms watching the lift off, because not only was it cool, but there was a TEACHER on board…

Making what happened all the more horrifying.

I was not in school that day. My parents had pulled us out of school for a study-leave/vacation in California. Mom and Dad were at a conference at the Crystal Cathedral. We kiddos were enjoying a week at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

So, I was sitting on the floor of the TV room at their house, watching the lift off with my grandparents. Which was incredibly cool because my Grandpa’s job was building jets and spaceships (he was a foreman for an aerospace company…this is about the coolest job your grandpa can have when you are a kid). I think, in fact, that there were parts of the Space Shuttles that he had worked on.

What I remember is that it was sort of unclear to the untrained eye for a few seconds that something terrible had happened. Was it just another puff of jet fuel propelling the shuttle, or…

But I was sure, at the time, that Grandpa knew what had happened a few seconds earlier than other people (like, for example, 3rd grade teachers) and he got up without a word and turned off the TV. When we figured out what was going on, this seemed like one of those incredible moments when a parent or grandparent is watching out for you…as in, maybe this was something that we shouldn’t see. I’m grateful that I was where I was. It seems like the sort of event where you might be better off watching with family than with your grade school class.

Later in the week, we went with my parents to church at the Crystal Cathedral. The service was a national tribute to the the people who had died in the disaster.

I was talking to my Dad about this last week, though, and he wondered if the other piece of this was the Grandpa himself did not want to watch anymore. Too emotional to see it when you are so very connected, physically even, to what’s happening. I’m guessing it was a little bit of both.

My Grandma once told me that Apollo 13 was one of the only movies that ever made him cry. Because the memory of that weekend, as someone who really knew how the craft worked, was just too intense.

It’s odd to think now about how this moment is one of the “where were you when” events for my generation…and the ones that have been added in the last 25 years. And to think about how for me, “where were you when” is influenced just by the where, but by the who, and when the event and a piece of family history rub up against each other a bit.

[ Filed under Journal | 0 Comments ]

Calm Down

I’ve been reading the Motherlode blog from the New York Times lately. My guilty pleasure, though, is reading the comments section. It’s like the car wreck I can’t take my eyes off of…like many parenting related blogs, forums, articles, etc. on the internet, the amount of sniping, grand-standing, self-righteousness, you name it, is astounding. And Motherlode is actually one of the tamer forums.

If you start research anything on the internet related to parenting: breast or bottle?; disciplinary techniques; how to get a kid to clean their room; potty training; setting limits; allowing children to wander the neighborhood; schools; pregnancy; birthing; tweens; teens; music lessons; sports; safety…anything you want. Anything you research and it won’t be long before you stumble upon some pretty heated debates. Some of them downright ugly.

(Side note: The tamest I’ve discovered recently: Ravelry, a web-community devoted to knitting, has a some parent related chat groups. I was poking around there for information on knit diaper covers, and discovered a thread on cloth diapering and circumcision. If you don’t know, circumcision is one of the most heated internet parenting debates. These lovely knitters managed to have a conversation thread that was completely non-judgmental about each other’s decision. It was so refreshing that someone actually posted in the thread to comment on the wonder of it. Perhaps knitters are just nicer people…or calmer…)

Most people probably know about the phenomenon of “mommy-wars” in our culture, usually in the version of debate about whether moms should stay home or work. And which is better for kids.

But the truth is this is not just about mommy working or not working. We will debate anything about parenting (by “we” I’m going with middle class Americans, the people who have the time and resources to debate this).

And I am convinced that many of these roiling debates are really about our anxieties about our children. As a society, we are WORRIED about our kids.

There’s nothing wrong with being concerned and engaged. But where’s the line? Is there a point when we are so worried about our kids that we tip over edge and are driven not by logical or even loving thinking, but by our anxiety? And, when we get to this place where it’s all about our own kids, rather than taking any consideration for the community into account?

Parenting has become a topic that some people avoid in polite company for the same reasons that we avoid politics and religion. We’re worried that it will spark debate. Ugly debate.

As a pastor, one of the things I want to be is what’s called a “non-anxious presence”. In other words, the person in the room who is calm. Because I lead better when I’m calm. And I can take care of people better when I’m calm. And I understand what’s really happening better when I’m calm. I’m not there yet, but I hope I’m getting better.

So what about non-anxious parenting? While I would say it’s one of my UTMOST goals to be a calm parent, let’s just say from the get-go that I’m not an expert. In all truth, I spent huge portions of Zora’s first days curled around her, muttering, “It’s going to be all right, baby. Somehow, it’s going to be all right.” Not because she was crying or out of sorts, but because I was an anxious wreck. For no particular reason. I hope I will behave differently with number 2. But who knows what happens when that amazing hormone surge and drop happens when he makes his appearance? And all bets are off when my kids become teenagers.

It’s hard, though, to be calm when the culture that surrounds us is constantly pushing us to be more and more and more anxious about our kids. When asking other parents for advice can turn into sniping. When, rather than affirming each other’s decisions as parents, people are prone to defend their own choices.

Church, at least, is more like the knitters…people stay calm, overall. But we get sucked in, too. For instance, even in churches with lively youth and children’s ministries, I know that there is anxiety about those ministries. I’m not talking exclusively about my own church…a frequent topic of discussion among youth and children’s pastors is about the perils of trying to keep everybody involved in the ministry happy and calm. True of many ministries areas in the church, but when it’s about people’s KIDS, well, the stakes are a lot higher.

I don’t know what the solution is here, but I wish people were talking about how to take the conversation down a notch, be open with each other, and simply calm down!

[ Filed under Journal | 1 Comment ]

Ping pong parenting

It’s a constant back and forth thing, parenting…

Just when I think I can no longer handle the very things that I think I’m supposed to find endearing (ridiculous energy levels, annoying 4 year old baby talk, incessant requests to do things, on and on and on)…

And on top of that, when I’m tired, Erik’s coming home late, the house is a wreck…

It’s just then that we wind up having a perfect half hour, playing memory with the classy nature sketch set that Zora normally won’t use, both of us in our pjs and comfy on the flannel sheets.

Of course now she is refusing to go to sleep.

Ping Pong.

[ Filed under Journal | 0 Comments ]

11 New Things for 2011

No resolutions here…I think in a year when you are anticipating: a baby; a move; a major career redirection; a kid starting school…you are allowed to not make any resolutions other than “let’s just do the best we can with the coming year”.

But, 11 things for the New Year that answer the question, “So, what’s new?” (a big post, but it makes up for my relative absence for the last few weeks):

1. 4 1/2 year old separation anxiety. I am not making this up: Zora never really had any sort of separation anxiety phase. Ever. Almost to the point that it was a little worrisome. Would she ever figure out that Erik and I were her family? Would she wind up going home with complete strangers after church? Had we done such a good job of teaching her to be friendly that she never learned appropriate boundaries?

But now, at 4 1/2, this kid has suddenly become clingy and upset about baby sitters and daycare. And not specific people. She just doesn’t like being dropped off or left with someone else. She’s fine once we leave, but whoa can she look pathetic beforehand!

I’m thinking we’ve got a little bit of new sibling anxiety going on here!

2. The new bed: Erik and I bought each other a new bed and mattress for Christmas. One night, we were out to eat and Zora (no boundaries, remember?) explained in detail to the people at the next table what she was making for us at preschool for Christmas. The nice lady said, “Oh, I be that will be their favorite Christmas present.” Erik and I looked at each other and immediately knew the other was thinking the same thing: “Nope. It’s the bed.”

I love the bed. It’s queen sized, so I’m worried that we will never again live in a place with a room that accommodates it, and wonder if this is an extravagance. The mattress is amazing, and it’s higher off the ground than the old ikea model, and it feels like our own little ship of refuge.

While there is no tree trunk involved, I keep thinking about the importance of their bed for Odysseus and Penelope.

3. We’re going to try cloth diapers on this baby. I’m still not sure this is a good idea. But my roommate from college generously sent us her stash, we supplemented last week with some newborn sized stuff, and I keep telling myself that our current laundry situation is perfect for this. That may change when we move in the summer. We’ll see.

This whole cloth diapering thing is an incredibly complex sub culture. We spent 2 hours at a shop in the city getting a tutorial from the salesperson. I try not to think about the cost of the bucket full of supplies we left with, but I’m trying to remind myself that it is probably still going to be cheaper than the disposibles. I do have to say, though: the cloth diapers are pretty darn cute.

4. We continue to debate school options for Zora next year. There is a financial balance we have to strike between rents in certain neighborhoods and either proximity to a decent but not too pricey private school or being within the boundaries of a good local public school. It is kind of maddening.

I am so sad for the city of Chicago in all of this. I love this city, and I wish so badly that every neighborhood had a wonderful school. Would putting our child in the public schools be an act of solidarity with people who want to make that school system better? I wonder: because, of course, we are really truly only considering neighborhood schools that are the higher performing ones already. I just don’t have the energy to be an activist in a low-performing school. Is it really seeking justice to place your child in a school that is already a good school?

5. And then there’s the private school thing. I am mostly the product of a public schools. But I spent my first 2 years and my last two years in private, parent-led, Christian schools, schools that used a Dutch Reformed Kuyperian model of education. (I know, that’s crazy technical and obscure language there, but I just want to make clear…this was not the type of Christian education where they taught science out of the Bible, nor was it the type where there was just sort of a prefunctory reference to religion in some classes.) In the middle there, I also did a year as a middle schooler at a Montessori school. And, I taught at a private school for two years.

I know that private school is not always the purview of parents who are simply privileged and trying to get their kids away from the hoi polloi. And there are some private schools that have educational, philosophical, and religious stands that I agree with and would be willing to pay for.

So I go back and forth on this school decision.

6. I’ve been wondering how we are going to break the news to Zora that we’re moving. It’s really too far away for her to have to be worried about it. But she’s going to start picking up on conversations about this. She’s so helpful though. A few days ago, she said to me, “Mom, when we move from here, I think we should move to Chicago.” And then, she started naming Chicago neighborhoods that we’ve been discussing. And named our current favorite as the one she thinks we should move to. Doesn’t miss a thing does she?

So, problem solved on breaking the news to Zora…

7. I am starting to think that pushing this baby out will be easier than preparing for leave. Perhaps I am over-acheiving in thinking I will produce a daily calendar that lists all of the youth and children’s ministry tasks around here, and who is responsible for each…

8. The problem with producing # 7, though, is that I still have to do all the day to day stuff. I keep my to do tasks on notecards. I often find I have a half inch stack that has to get done in day. Finishing that calendar for leave gets pushed to the back since it doesn’t seem as urgent. While I love this whole note card system (since using it, I have much less anxiety about whether I’ve forgotten some task), it has also made me realize that there is perhaps no way I can finish everything I am supposed to do. I have to conclude that either (a) I have horrible time management skills and need to step things up a notch or (b) I’ve got to figure out some way to get rid of some of these things.

9. I’ve been organizing closets and cabinets. So much so that every time I jump into another one, I worry that I’m going to go into labor within a few days. Because, organizing a closet is not something I normally do. Ever. But I might be looking for the wrong sort of nesting. When I had Zora, the biggest “nesting” moment I had was the afternoon I sat down and handwrote a 10 page treatise for the Sunday School teachers on the Joseph story, the theological implications of it, and how it might be presented in a way that was relevant to the concerns of children. So, if I start getting out my Hebrew and Greek texts, then I should probably be a little concerned/excited that the time has come.

10. And, when the time does come, pray for us to manage to push the baby out. We are planning, at this point, what’s called a “VBAC” (vaginal birth after cesarean). Turns out, this is kind of a crazy controversy in the world of medicine and in the mommy-sphere. There have been pendulum shifts in how insurance and hospitals and doctors handle it; there is amazingly heated debate about it on the internet; depending on where you live, finding a doctor who will do this can be time-consuming.

My basic take is this: it stinks to recover from major surgery. The human body is pretty amazing, and I’ve had a healthy pregnancy. Based on what I’ve read, I’ll take the odds that my body can pull this off, and the levels of risk aren’t that scary. And I found a doctor who I like and who thinks it’s a good option. We’ll see…

11. Baby dreams. These really only kicked in for me after the New Year. I think I was too tied up in church Christmas stuff to think about the baby. By now, I’ve had dreams where: the baby turned out to be a girl; the baby turned out to be a monkey (I believe it was a Gibbon); the baby was 4 feet tall. I’ll take the surprise of a girl (although, I’ll be really surprised…that was a pretty clear appendage on the ultrasound!); monkey or four feet tall is going to be a little more than I can handle, though.

[ Filed under Journal | 1 Comment ]

New Years

How appropriate is this: Erik and I rang in 2011 sitting on our bed surrounded by the cloth diapers we’re planning to try on baby # 2. Big excitement: researching the models , directions, and care for each, speculating about what might be best for a baby who might be of a certain size.

Hold on: 2011 is going to be a domestic, albeit wild ride around here!

[ Filed under Journal | 0 Comments ]

Reading Almost Christian

Kenda Kreasy Dean’s book Almost Christian has been the hot book for many youth ministry people this year. I’m finally reading it.

First, I can’t say this enough, I think everyone in ministry should be reading it. Not just the youth people. If you know me well, you know that I am not so enamored with most practical ministry kind of books. I love this one, and not just as a youth pastor, but as a generalist pastor, a church-goer, a parent, someone just trying to live a faithful life.

While this is a simplified take on parts of the book, one thing she points out is that a church simply having a great youth program (or a great youth pastor) doesn’t make for a church that will necessarily be good at nurturing youth into mature Christian faith.

This got me thinking: not to brag, but I think, to some extent, something about my own religious upbringing must have gone somewhat well. At very least, I wound up being a minister. And, reluctant as my Dutch-Calvinist roots are to let me say it, I think I’ve gotten to some form of mature faith life as an adult.

So, what was it about my church experience as child and teen that was most influential? First off, I have to agree with the book: it was not my youth group experience. I went to two churches as a high schooler. Both had what would not, by the standards of many churches, be described as conventional high-octane youth programs. Both were relatively small churches.

The first church had an all-volunteer youth ministry leadership group. And, during my time in it, there were some seriously flawed trips, outings, interactions, etc. The second church was trying to build a youth program. They had an incredible woman working very part time to build it, but, the only teens at the church who were from members’ families were: my sister and I. This was a completely outreach focussed youth group in the time I was there.

So, then, if the youth groups weren’t the main formative thing for me, what were the important components?

1. Worship. Formal and informal, small and large. Participating in it and sitting through it. Week upon week upon week. It just sinks in when it’s a normal part of the pattern.
2. Meals with church people. I grew up in a church where we had informal meals before or after an evening worship service at least twice a month, and normally weekly. Sometimes it was a really small crowd, 2 or 3 families. That didn’t matter.
3. The way the church folks took care of each other, across generations and places in life. For example, caroling to shut-ins, and the not-so-shut-ins, was one of the highlights of the year in the church I grew up in. And, witnessing how they pulled together when someone was in crisis.
4. The way the church people took care of other people. One church, when the local community college was faced with a shortage of host homes for a group of Central American students coming to study on a State Department program, took in about half of these young people. So, this smallish church in an area of the country that was decidedly NOT hispanic at the time, had a good 10 Central American young people (most of whom were from pretty poor backgrounds) worshipping with us and being social with us.
5. Adults, parents and otherwise, who took time to teach and talk to us and model for us what the Christian life looks like. Not always by using any sort of set curriculum, but just by being around us.
6. The simple insistence (mostly by parents) that church life was a non-negotiable for us. Sort of like school and homework were non-negotiobles.

Note the thread here: most of the things in this list seem to be about a web of interconnected relationships, centered around church as community. Maybe this worked for me because my make-up as a person involves being highly social. (However, when I think through my age-group peers at this church, I think the “outcomes” for who is still significantly involved in a faith community today are higher than the norm.) Or, maybe it worked for these churches because they were smaller, didn’t have the numbers and resources to create elaborate programs and groups, and didn’t need to create programs to promote opportunities for community building. Who knows?

I’m curious, too, what others would put on their list of what was most formative about the churches they grew up in.

And, if you’ve read the book, what about it resonates with your own personal experience?

[ Filed under Journal | 1 Comment ]

Santa

My friend Martha has a great post on Santa and her kids. I’m about 100% there with her.

Neither Erik nor I remember discovering that Santa wasn’t real. It never seemed like a deliberate choice by my parents, and I felt like there was always a little bit of a wink and a nod about the whole thing growing up. I’m guessing it didn’t help that when I was three, my Dad and my Uncle Tom, for some inexplicable reason, appeared together at our door both dressed in Santa costumes. (Also inexplicable to me: why did we have two Santa costumes around the house? Which very soon after the Dad-and-Tom incident made their way into the dress up box?) Another moment that probably keyed me into the potential that Santa didn’t exist: when I was in kindergarten, my school ( a private Christian school in Holland, MI, largely attended by people of Dutch descent) brought in Sinterklaas and his donkey (they had the good sense to leave Zwarte Piet out of it). When someone who LOOKS like the mall Santa, but clearly isn’t Santa, (more sophisticated costume, bishop mitre, classier beard, more lace) appears at a school assembly with a real live donkey, I’ve got to say that puts some doubt into your mind about the whole thing.

So we’ve never made  a big deal out of Santa with Zora. Wink, wink, on the stockings. No lists to get to the North Pole via Elf-mail. No trips to the mall to meet the big man.

Similar to Martha, Erik and I haven’t made a big thing about this because we are completely opposed to Santa. We do stockings, but in the past she’s seemed to get that other people put stuff in there. We do a shoe with a carrot or apple for the donkey on December 5, and leave a few small gifties from Sinterklaas. It gives me some way for my Dutch heritage to make a showing; Erik’s got the lefse and lutefisk, I get Sinterklaas. Plus, I sort of love the absurdity of the whole Sinterklaas thing. (David Sedaris explains it best.) I’ve been hoping this would seem like a fun game for her, and not too serious.

And until she hit preschool, she was pretty much oblivious. But the she heard about Santa from other kids. And the preschool does, I think, a decent bit of talk about Santa.  And then she became addicted to the movie Elf, so now she’s talking a bit more about Santa. (My favorite: her contention that last year she saw Santa in the (emptied-for-winter) pool on the roof at Grandma and Grandpa’s building in the city. Which, this year, has morphed into the idea that this is where the reindeer hang out when they are waiting for Santa to finish his work in the building.)

It’s a sad admission, but redirecting her from all the Santa talk is not something I have the energy to work on right now. Unfortunately, a whole lot of my parenting technique revolves around what I just don’t have the time or energy for. In fact, the Santa thing is one of these. For example, there’s just too much stuff to get done around Christmas time. So I’m not about to add standing in line to see mall Santa to the list.

I’m planning that the solution to this will come largely from the perspective presented by The Legend of St. Nicholas, by Demi. It’s a beautiful book, with the whole story of the original saint told, and then it explains that the things we do at Christmas time are in honor of what he did, things that he did out of his devotion to God.

And, I think we’ll try to do as much winking as we can this year around the subject.

[ Filed under Uncategorized | 4 Comments ]

In the midst of chaos

Inspired by Mary Allison.

Sharing the stage with Santa, simple awe…

[ Filed under Journal | 1 Comment ]