just home now

Good Ol' Hope

The arrogance of youth tells us

"Don't take NO for an answer." 

Fight. FIGHT! We put our stock in that for which we can only hope. Hope is the currency of youth. Actually, hope is what we call it when we are old. When we are young, we call it...

Determination.

Moxy. Grit. Hardwork. Courage. 

Hope is too unstable. Determination is better; it'll show up. If we are determined, we can only succeed. Failure cannot happen, not if we want it bad enough. 

 

I see my sons run up against NO and they each respond quite differently to it. Concord screams the very loudest, most unbelievably piercing animal war cry and flops on the ground. Effective, straight to the point, rather primal. Concord wants to smash that NO into a YES. Captain negotiates with NO. He is concentrated, he is logical. He can wind his way around the argument until suddenly with chess-like precision the only answer seems to be, in fact, YES. Check mate, NO. 

I think most of our 20s were dedicated to a sort of numb, vacant, semi-deafness to NO. As if a haze kept the NO away and, as twenty-something year olds, we said, "NO?...Hmmm....I'm not really sure I am hearing it right...I mean, it SOUNDS like something I have seen other people hear, but....yeah, I'm not really getting it....I will just  keep listening....I'm sure I will eventually hear YES in there..."

The 20 year old has  T I M E . . . 

So now we are mid-ish-late-ish 30s and I am seeing what has happened, what has changed for us with NO. 

NO is NO. 

And that's it.

Ooohhh......Okay. 

We have put down our swords and quieted our battle cries and pleas. We have surrendered the determination to try to turn back time, to un-do a hundred tiny little moments, to be different people, to live another life. We are starting to hear NO and respond with favor....respond with hope.

Vulnerable, often dashed, completely unstable, pitiful really....hope. 

And honestly, it isn't even a response.

It is an exhaled whisper. 

We accept NO faster now. We own our share of it because, as much as we hate to admit it, much of the NO was our own doing. Remember? We become thankful that we came to the answer quickly before more time was wasted. We take our glasses, wipe them off, and re-focus on the glorious YES that surrounds us everyday. 

And, friends, we HOPE. We do. We hope that we can ask better questions in the future. We hope that some NOs are never brought to our doorstep, not in this lifetime. We hope that what we've chosen is good enough for each other, even more so for our children. We hope that when our days are through and our question marks lay down to rest, we hope that grace is enough. 

And I believe that it is. 

YES is the answer that grace gives.  

 

spur

 

Children don’t get stuck in a rut. They have neither the time nor the patience for it.

 

Children won’t stand for a rut. They have places to be and things to go. They have engaged accomplishments.

 

They have to conquer. 

 

In fact, the forward momentum and wide-eyed, determined growth of a child is almost unstoppable. It takes some concerted effort to slow down a well-fed child. They do not relent.

 

Because even when they are disappointed, sad, distracted, confused, hurt, abandoned, even when their world comes crumbling down, they rebound wildly and clumsily and beautifully. They may cry or shriek, tantrum or lament that the world is ending, they may GRIEVE the loss hard and fast and angry, but they are much too selfish to stay tied down to that loss. They are not committed to the pain. They erupt. They ignite. They catch the wind of something else, something new that brings breath and hope and they start moving again towards that. New brains birthing and dying and growing and changing over and over and over. 

 

They haven’t learned self-pity. They don’t know about the slow sink of desperation and depression.

 

They know resilience. They pull the weed with their muddy hands, grab at the roots and see what new thing they can put into the ground and grow. They practice resurrection daily and they get good at it. When it hurts, they say Ouch. And sometimes it’s loud. 

 

But then, they become inspired again and they heal.

 

For a child, there is ONLY stop and smell the roses. There is only today and maybe tomorrow. There is only the promise of some new satisfaction.

 

They can do anything, these small humans. They can regenerate, they can heal, they can hope and they can create something completely new. Their fear rests on the tips of their fingers but they still feel their way in the dark. They get hurt and then they try again.

 

To see such inspiration every single day in these lives that challenge me…

my boys spur me on…

 

 

if by sea

He may insist on doing exactly what you've told him not to do or throw himself down on the floor in a fit of temper if he doesn't get his way. His demands may alternately frustrate and amuse you. At times, for example, he'll likely ask for something that he doesn't even want, just to see if he has enough power to get it.

 Excerpt from babycenter.com in reference to the 'terrible twos.'

I have a baby for rent. The lease agreement shall be one year, no more. You will have access to him before bedtime in the afternoon and in the evening. You shall also be able to feed him food that he will throw on the ground and offer him toys that he will hurl at your face, or another child's face; he doesn't discriminate. He is moody, but very cute. He has just recently began to reject naptime. Interested parties can come by and check him out. Weekend evenings for 4-5 hours would be a good time to see if it would be a good fit. The rent will be $50,000 a month. (see: alternately frustrate AND amuse)

 

This kid of mine. 

I never liked the phrase 'terrible twos' before. It just struck me as so callous and cavalier towards the child, the child who was trying to figure out his place in the world, assert his skills and produce something worthwhile, practice the tasks of living out that in which he was becoming so adept. 

I am okay with it now. I appreciate the brevity, the get-right-down-to-it-edness of it. It wastes no time. And I presently seem to have no time. 

For instance, I would LIKE to write a lovely, poignant, relevant blog about something deep and obscure within all of humanity. I would like to paint a gorgeous picture and then gently point to some little part, leading the reader to some perspective of mine but not just blurting out my point of view. Oh, I would LIKE...

But my 23 month old is lamenting in his crib, as he has been for the past, oh....LITTLE WHILE? (don't call CPS on me)....and it is BEYOND time for me to go in there and get him. Today he has opted for no sleep in the day. We call that trick....drumroll....No Nap Enniss. 

I would LIKE to explain exactly what kind of developmental rite of passage that symbolizes and give you some charming life lesson about it, but I have no time and so brevity is king. 

He is 23 months old and he is in the terrible twos. 

So we all are in the terrible twos!! Yay for friends in the life raft! 

my owls

I remember asking my parents if we could move when I was a kid. I wanted to get out of the house I was in. I wanted a change. I wanted an adventure. I wanted something new. 

And we did. We moved. And I honestly thought it was because I had asked. In retrospect, I will concede that there MAY have been a few other factors involved besides my elementary-aged plea for change. I got my own room in the new house, it was bigger, there were stairs (all kids wants stairs, no adults want stairs). I thought it was great. I really did. 

But then, I didn't. At some point, I missed the old house. And started to feel like I wasn't so crazy about this new house. I began to think that I just wanted to buy that old house again when I was grown up and raise MY kids in that house because it was the best house ever in the whole wide world (by the way, no exaggeration here, it WAS and it still IS).

And then in college, I wanted to move to the East Coast for a school internship and I did for a few minutes and then realized that was a terrible idea and came home crying on a plane with all my stuff and no plans whatsoever and parents and faculty advisors and friends and everyone who were all saying, "Huh? What's that now?" Because it turned out that I didn't want to leave home at all. 

 

And as I get older, I find myself wanting to move less and less. This is probably my grandfather in me. 

And yet I married someone who loves to SAIL. He loves the feel of the shifting ground under his feet. Moving, jumping, spinning, falling down, the swells, the wind... this is what is HOME to him. And to me, I just feel nauseous and want to put my head overboard until we are done. Until we are home.

We are the Owl and the Pussycat. 

But I will say this about my land legs and my domestic heart and my failing wanderings, for every adventure I had, willing or unwilling, for every move I have ever made, for every voyage that I put my heart into, I have learned this...that trying is BETTER than just staying on Brennan Way in that very first house.

I changed because I tried. I grew because I tried. I lived full because singing birds romanced me onto their boats. And they still do. And even when I fail, it makes a kind of mark in me that I, now and always will, look back into and see as brilliant, evident growth plates dazzling through my life. 

And though it makes my stomach sometimes hurt, it makes for the best story. The moves all make sense and they are the only way to get to the end where we dance by the light of the moon,

the moon, 

the moon,

They danced by the light of the moon.

tantrums

Kid knows how to throw a rock. That's all I can say.

 

He throws balls. He throws iPhones. He throws the piano stool into the side of the piano. 

He throws tantrums. 

And, oh boy, does he know what he is doing.

 

But the problem for this poor boy, is that he is learning, for the very first time in his whole entire short life, that he does not get whatever he wants. He is learning it by living it.

By experience. 

He, for the first time, feels what no feels like. And he makes no effort to hide how devastating that really is. The best is when he throws his head back and rolls on the carpet a few times. The biggest tears I have ever seen just waterfall down his face when I say, "No more candy."

Loss of innocence. Safety. Delay of gratification.

Wisdom. Longsuffering. Self-sacrifice.

The greater good. 

He spits in the face of all of these. They mean nothing to him.

He tantrums because there is only one truth for him. 

He doesn't have what he wanted to have. 

 

Experience.

The wonderful, saving-grace truth to all this is that someday...he will work hard for something and it will taste better than candy. Someday, he will save up and awaken early and sweat and wonder and hope and he will wait.....and his reward will be better than anything he could have ever dreamt.

He will experience honor and virtue and pride and character. 

And it will be good.

Good enough, even, to put down the rock.

 

jumped

Well, long story, short...we jumped. 

We waited and waited and waited and prayed and prayed and prayed.

Then we started to move. And once we started moving, we didn't really stop. We took off. We went crazy, leaping and crashing and dancing and jumping around. It was sort of a frenzy for a bit. Some people just love the frenzy. I don't know if I have ever mentioned that I get motion sickness....

I think, now, we have settled. Ah, how I love the settled. 

1. We moved to Lake Elsinore. 

This is the house we bought. Our mortgage is less than our rent in Laguna Niguel was. It has a view and a pool and we still cannot believe that we get to live here. I have a list on the fridge of thirty-some things I want to do on the house....I call it Phase One. What's that? Setting myself up? Hmm?

2. Buzzy took a job with the church that his father pastors, Lamb's Fellowship. It is part time and we both love that church, so it is a right good deal. Captain goes into Sunday school every week with his cousin and that is ok by me!

3. Captain started 1st grade at the local elementary school. 

Yes, he is the cutest little boy ever. Well...there is one other one who aint so bad...

4. We bought a bakery in town. Flour Fusion. It is so charming and wonderful. We are the operating owners and, by we, I mean Buzzy. I have stayed busy at the school district in Santa Ana. Those kids won't screen themselves for hearing and vision! Am I right?

5. This child. 

He is wild monkey. He is never ending. He speaks. He laughs. He fits. He tantrums. He cuddles. He spoons. He jumps. He dances. He sings. He makes funny faces.

He calls you on the phone. If you get a call from me, but I am not talking, go ahead and say, "Hello Is.." and then you will get to have a conversation with the King of Cool.

6. Some days I feel like we are spinning and I can hardly get my bearings. Some days feel like perfection and I just smile and smile....

That's just LIFE, right? 

 

the cliff

Did you know that a precipice is not simply a fork in the road? I thought a precipice was just a crossroads, a decision making time. But this is not the case. 

A precipice is a "cliff with a vertical, nearly vertical, or overhanging face."

Right. So. 

So, being at a precipice is kindof a dire situation. Or at the very very best, it is excruciatingly exciting. Moving forward means that things are definitely going to change. 

But the change may be devastating. 

A precipice is a leap of faith. 

We used to be so good at jumping. 

Concord tries to jump. He stands on his tiptoes and propels his round little body forward, with a laugh in his throat and sheer anticipation in his eyes. It is pure thrill for him. 

He always lands in our arms. 

Buz and I used to be all about the leaping. 

Not so much anymore. 

Falling hurts. We are old and tired of getting hurt. Skinned knees don't recover. Broken bones take years to heal now. We are okay with watching the kids jump. We have moved past chasing the feeling of flying. The truth is we were falling. And we prefer to walk these days.

You can see how far you have come when you walk. Also you can see what is in front of you. 

 

 

After much prayer and conversation, Buzzy has decided to step down from his position as teaching pastor of Sanctuary. He is still pursuing his Master's degree in seminary, but he has started looking for another job in a church. I think our time with pools is coming to an end. I have committed to spend this school year as a school nurse in Santa Ana, but if I go much further with this career, I need to go back to school. Captain has just started in school, but we feel like if we wanted to make a change with him, this next year might be the best time to do it. Sooner rather than later. Concord is along for the ride. 

 

We are looking ahead. 

Staring at the precipice that we can see in our path. 

We are walking slowly. 

Taking our time.

 

We can sense the impending jump, the precipice on this road.

show

Can I show you something??

Life. 

Growth. 

Change. 

Beginnings.

Discovery. 

Love. 

Joy. 

 

 

Despite broken computers and slow pictures, despite a new job (finally) and the wonderful world of kindergarten, despite the tooth fairy arriving and new legs on a baby (he walks)....

it all keeps moving forward. 

Despite all my best attempts, my boys grow :)

My husband grows.

I grow.

I wish I could type it as fast as it happens, but, if I did all the time,

I would miss it.

Here's to not missing a moment!

 

fallen

 

He may be 9 months in two days, but I like to think that this means I haven't fallen behind yet. He is still in the 8-months month, so this picture is current. Kinda. I haven't fallen behind. It's what I can tell myself. 

But the truth is I have. I have fallen behind. I cannot keep up. 

 I cannot keep up with how quickly this child is becoming his own. Teeth are in and I find him in his crib every day, standing, grabbing for anything and everything. He had silly putty in his mouth this morning. I have already washed mud from his gums and tongue. I think he says mama and I am pretty sure that he tries to wave at his stuffed animals. Did I mention he crawls? The subject IS mobile. I need gates. I need GATES people! Everywhere. 

And I just can't keep up. I can't journal and photograph and clean and sew and pray and watch a movie from time to time. I can't keep it all as slow as I need it. I think that is just a product of growing up. 

 

These boys are growing up. Captain starts kindergarten in days. I love this time of life; I just wish I could keep up with it. It already feels short. These 8 months have blinked by. Already almost 9. 

Could we hope for more?

***

I took one picture on houseboats and this is it. 

 

Oh don't they all just look so happy. This was probably the only time I didn't have my hands on one or both of the boys. 

Wait I found another picture!

   

I love that houseboats trip, but I think we are going to take a few years off from it. And by we, I mean Concord and me. I think Captain could live the rest of his life on a boat, swimming all day, and sleeping outside under the stars. He was in heaven. 

See you all in two days. Or something like that. 
 

 

okay okay

I know that I haven't even posted pictures from Paint Day yet and all of you my avid readers are like, "Beth? Hello? In the last post, you told us you were going to do Paint Day this year? Where are the pictures?" I know, I am failing you all. My dear readers. My fans, you might say. The people who WILL buy the book that I write someday. Not today, but someday. 

BUT, I had to show you these pictures because they are killing me (and the Paint Day pictures are on the slow computer), so...

 

What the heck? Can't you feel that in your TOES??!!

The babe is 7 months. The boy is 5 years and we had a party. 

 

My personal favorite from the day...

 

And a shot in the bouncehouse (the BH)...

 

And finally, the gift that I made for Captain. To celebrate five wonderful years of life...a quilt.

And if that weren't awesome enough, I leave you with this.

 

I love these little guys.