November Coffee: Abundantly Done

I'm going to take the week off from posting this week.  There will be no menu post and probably no Thrifty Thursday, but I may pop in with a diary post on Friday.  And then, following the holiday, I will be back to my usual schedule of posting.

I want to take time this week to think about my plans for next year.  I have a few categories that I dwell upon and think about and jot down ideas for: spiritual, marriage, family, personal, blog, finances, home.  I think about what I hope life might look like in the year ahead, consider what it has looked like in the year behind.  It's an important process for me, because without that consideration I tend to just sort of drift aimlessly about through the year.  I gave myself that luxury this year without any resolutions made and no real purpose but, in the year, ahead, I foresee that I might possibly be having a bit more time to myself in which I might actually accomplish things.  And then again, life might toss another curveball and whack me painfully in the shin.  One never knows.

I also hope to get my Christmas tree set up this week.  And of course, if mine goes up, I must get out Caleb's little tree and his ornaments so that he can have his own tree as well.  I still prefer to set my own up and simply light it and then I'll decorate over the coming weeks.  I have no vision for the tree this year and no clue how I might decorate it.  That too is something to mull this holiday week.  

I shall have plenty of alone time to do these things because I won't see Katie and Caleb as they are vacationing and then spending time with Cody and his little girl Bella for the duration of the holiday week and weekend. 

I also hope to work on December goals, and a December listing of things to look forward to and enjoy in what I think is one of the loveliest months of the year...Funny, I never realized before that I think December a lovely month.  But I do.  It has the last bits of fall and the start of winter, all the lovely sparkly wonder of Christmas decor, festivities and fun, things to ponder spiritually and awe-inspiring revelations all tied up in one month.  It's abundance at its best, not austere like January.   I think December is one month that is abundantly lived and abundantly done.

About two weeks ago, we had a sick day at home, on what was meant to be our date day.  We didn't even go to church that weekend.  We just took cold meds and snugged into our chairs with robes and socks and comforters and ate comforting meals and gave in to not feeling well.  I didn't read or play games.  We spent lots of time dozing.  John decided that it should be a movie weekend and he chose musicals.  We watched "South Pacific" on Saturday and then on Sunday he chose "Oklahoma!"   

I've watched the movie version of "Oklahoma!" many times.  While it's one of my favorites, I generally only watch it in parts.  The choreographed dance scenes are pretty doggone awesome, but not the nightmare one.  The songs are catchy, and I find myself humming bits of them for days once I've watched the film.  I absolutely love the Ado Annie character with her sassiness that borders on worldly wise that is just a rather innocent awareness of being attractive and enjoying it for the first time in her life.  And Aunt Eller seems to me to be a wonderful character.  A spinster Aunt keeping up a thriving farm with the help of a farmhand, while raising a niece.  That seemed very much the spirit to me that helped settle the prairies.  So yes, I do really enjoy the movie in parts.  I love the quick humor in so many scenes that makes us laugh out loud.

But this last viewing is when I finally listened hard and caught a bit of wisdom.

Towards the end of the film, Laurey is recalling the horrible events of her wedding night. Aunt Eller offers her this bit of wisdom. "They's things you cain't get rid of--lots of things.  Not if you live to be a hundred.  You got to learn.  You got to look at the good on one side and all the bad on the other, and say, 'Well, all right then!' to both of 'em."

That struck me as a piece of sound advice.   I can moan and groan with the best of them over all the things that go wrong and hurt and aren't nice, but it never occurred to me that I just needed to look trouble in the eye and then move on.  In the end, trouble, like the nice things, soon passes, doesn't it?  And then there are more nice things and more troubles to be dealt with, all throughout a life.

So, I'm going to try and look deeper at the things of beauty and not linger so on the ill winds that blow and disturb me.

We were leaving home later for a brief ride, mostly just to get out of the house.  I was feeling cabin fever and it had nothing to do with the cold I had.  John forgot his wallet and went back in the house to get it. I looked across the backyard at the golden evening light filtering through the trees and the tiny gold orbs floating about the yard. They may have appeared magical but in actuality they were a variety of bugs and flies and such but in that light, they were like hundreds of tiny golden bubbles floating in the air.  It had a mesmerizing effect, watching that slow gentle drifting they were doing.  Just a few moments of time, but it was a moment of refreshing, as though my own inner clock were reset to a different pace of time.

Moments such as these are fleeting, far more fleeting than the things that want to linger and torture the mind, but do you know how often in the past two weeks I've let my mind drift back to that moment of golden beauty and seen it all over again?  It's been such a lovely thing to recall.  That moment was just as real as the bad ones, but in a few years' time I likely won't remember most of the bad moments...I'll wager that autumn evening will linger a good bit longer if I dwell on it and I can add it to a few others I've held on to that have been solace to me over and over again through the years.

I sat outside this week with Caleb jotting down my thoughts in my journal and I realized that some major shift has occurred within me of late.  It's been a slow adjustment I think, so subtle that I was only just aware of it.  And it does relate back to Aunt Eller's wisdom in a way.  

I was sitting there with pen in hand and let my mind slip this way and that, and then settle down.  I've always been very analytical, am always examining and measuring, and criticizing, myself in all sorts of ways.  Always digging down deep to try and get at the 'why' of my being the way I am. And then suddenly, on this day, I realized that I just didn't want to do this anymore.  I'm tired of being an archaeologist.  I am.  I'm sick of sifting through the dust of the past and examining every fragment.  It's been going on like this for a long time and at some point, you just have to come to a stop.  

And isn't what Aunt Eller was saying is to stop dwelling so much on things?  You can't change them.  They were what they were, but here we are with those golden moments shoved in between them, like a bookmark put in place to begin the next chapter.  So why keep flipping back the pages to see what was behind?  I've been there and re-read it so many times.  Let's just move on and enjoy and finish the book.

Caleb has gone to school.  It's part time at the moment, three half days each week, but just as the day he turned four, he walked a wee bit taller when he headed out the door that first morning.   But not until after a temporary moment of panic hit him.  "I'm scared," he told me, and I assured him it was perfectly normal to be scared going into a new situation.  "But you'll have fun."

We did have a rough go of it for a bit after he got home because suddenly, he was overwhelmed with being 'a big boy' and wanted to be a baby.  

The very next day he came out of the building wearing only his underwear and shirt, since he had wet all of his clothing for the day.  He did have on dry underwear.  He went potty after we finally got home, though John had to run an errand and talked for a bit longer than I'd have liked.  He stayed dry all through his naptime, went potty and played outdoors for over an hour all without wetting himself and even made it through supper and all the way up until bedtime, without wetting himself at all.

However, the report from school was not all roses.  He'd acted out, missed going outdoors to play, got mad and thrown his shoes and then had to go without them even though he complained his feet were cold.  He refused to eat his lunch because someone else's food looked better, so he didn't get to finish his own meal.  And when he got home, we told him he'd have to go without his Kindle because he'd misbehaved at school.  What he did instead was exactly what he ought to have done, he laid down and slept hard for two full hours.

What I've noticed is that change generally sees Caleb revert to crying and screaming.  And so going to school has triggered the same reaction.   He loves going, wants to go, but it's change and change always manifests itself in bad behavior and shows of temper.

He's such an odd mixture this little boy.  I've watched him at play with others and he's always willing to help, always holds out his hand to help someone climb up the slide or take that first step onto play equipment.  He helps those smaller than himself without even thinking about it.  He is genuinely helpful.  And compassionate. Polite and kind.  He is funny and laughs easily and he's smart as can be.  But he's also feisty, and his temper is hot and fast.  He is willful and stubborn and will absolutely defy you and as we say here at home, cut off his nose to spite his face.  It just so happens that last trait was one of his Mama's worst traits as a child.  He is not wholly his mother's child, but he surely is in that respect and in the quick laughter and smartness.   

Finding the balance is hard for me.  I want to take him up and hold him and coddle him and do all the things for him, but I recognize that while hugs and kisses and snuggles are necessary, I also have to encourage him to do the things he can for himself.  He does very much want to be a baby, yet he's not really a baby anymore.   

Mid-afternoon the first day of school, he sat down and wailed and wailed and wailed. I realized that he was simply tired and brought him back indoors to lie in his quiet space and put on soothing music and encouraged him to just rest.  20 minutes later he was calm and quiet and ready to play normally once more.  On that second day, he laid down and slept for two full hours.

With Caleb going to school this week, I've discovered that morning routines are suddenly my old familiar routines.  I can focus once more upon my home.  I have accomplished more in the first two hours of the school days than I'd imagined possible.  And I've had time to spare, so I could catch up with reading, answering emails, writing.  I hadn't expected this falling back into old habits to come so easily.  It's good to know that not only bad habits can come so easily to one.  

His third and last day of last week went much better. He only wet once all morning long.  His behavior was better though he was still not happy with his lunch and so we were told he was not to eat once home, as lunch time was past.  He was to go to quiet time and then he could have his snack once he was up again.  

He won't go back until after Thanksgiving, when the school is open again and then he'll have three half days until the director (who has a proper doctorate in education) says he is ready for full time.  I'm hoping that will come after the first of the year, even if it is only half days rather than full ones.  We'll see.

On the first day of school, I made good use of the time I had to myself.  I was able to set the pantry to rights, a task long overdue.  What's more it was accomplished in one session, not broken up over several days' time, as often has been the case of late.

It's amazing how many interruptions a small child can bring into a life.  Stop to go potty, get juice, help find a lost toy, kiss a scrape and half a day is gone and nothing done.  I like the balance that was immediately brought back to my life with just a few uninterrupted hours of time.

The annual tug of war about what to do for the upcoming holiday occurred.  Not knowing if the kitchen would be ripped to bits or not, and having heard nothing from the contractor at all so that a decision could be made, I gave in easily when Mama suggested she would make dinner at her house, even though I knew that meant not everyone would be pleased or happy with that choice.  It's always a tussle.  

To be honest the day Mama called, I was not feeling well, still feeling the dregs of that weird cold/exhaustion and being in the midst of cold turkey under wear only potty training that wasn't going well.  To give in and admit that I had no clue what our plans would be made me want to just weep.  Part of the family had already made plans.  Part of the family were waiting on my plans.  Part of the family hadn't been heard from in months...so I had no clue how to please anyone, much less myself.

So, I gave in quickly when Mama asked to have it.  For one thing, it's far easier on her to not have to get out and around.  It's lots easier on me not to have to go fetch Mama and then take her back home in between bouts of cooking a heavy-duty meal, too.  I do worry that the cooking will be too much on her and will talk with her this weekend to see what I might do to ease that burden. But all in all, it's far easier to just say "Yes," and let the chips fall where they may.   

She also wanted to invite my brother.  She blames me because he refuses to come to my house.  Truth, he doesn't like family gatherings and he's not one to join in with a crowd.  I've always said he was welcome, but he's never bothered to reply.  After all these years, John is equally adamant that I not bother to invite him.  "Just leave him alone!"  I tend to agree.  It's my brother's preference to be alone.   But Mama is convinced if I would just do this and that and ten other things just the way she wants them that he will give in and come.  Mind you, he also doesn't usually go to her home on the holidays either.  He'll stop in during the week but is sure to avoid the holiday itself.  However, she can cry all she likes over his absence this year.  Her excuse that I won't ask him will be invalid. 

Then began the struggle on the other side.  Part of the family wanted no part of this holiday if that was the place to be.  One agreed in the end that they would partake of the holiday with me but the other said "No," and meant it.   That meant that one family member had nowhere to go and no holiday meal to look forward to...

I found myself caught up in the idea that perhaps I ought to just celebrate the holiday twice.  John voiced his opinion that he'd miss having turkey.  Then I heard from a grandchild on the long-lost side who wanted to know if we were having Thanksgiving this year.  

I wanted to please everyone.  I suggested I could make a whole holiday feast at home, but John felt he'd get plenty of the side dishes at Mama's and wanted only the turkey.  So, my compromise is that I will bake a turkey breast and provide fixings for sandwiches, and we'll have our turkey with the family that will be in town if they care to come. I told my grandchild that I will plan a family gathering for Christmas.  

At some point, I realized that I could easily make things a lot harder for myself by trying to please everyone.  I've noted too often over the years that you never do live up to anyone's wants and expectations no matter how you knock yourself out.  I'm kind of tired of that part of my life.

I've always felt compelled to please people and felt I was a failure if I didn't please every single person and oh so often I didn't.  If I did this for that one then I hadn't done what the other wanted and if I did try to make them happy as well, then someone else was displeased.  And you know who really ended up displeased with the holiday?  Me.  I was tired of being blamed and tired of blaming myself.    As the old song, "Garden Party" says, "You can't please everyone, so you got to please yourself..."  I think I've only ever pleased myself exactly twice and both times I had Thanksgiving with someone other than family and I truly enjoyed every moment of it even though I did hear from the disappointed ones about how unhappy they'd been.

So there you are.  I'm tired of being an archaeologist.  I'm tired of being a people pleaser.  I'm tired of this annual holiday hassle.  It sounds like I just might be tired.   But I'm not that tired.  And I'm not nearly as grumpy as I sound.  Just realizing how abundantly done I am with so much in my life.

I've been going round and round circles forever, waiting for things to change.  More and more lately I've realized that things aren't going to change, but I can change.  I can change how I approach things.  I can just accept that doing my best is never going to be good enough for some, but it doesn't lessen the fact that I did my best.  I can change this idea I have that making everyone happy is my responsibility.  It isn't.  At some point, we all have to learn how to make our own happiness.  I can't fix everything that is wrong.  It's not my business to even try.  I can pray and I can love, but that's really about it.

It's kind of like my garden this summer.  I did my best with what I had.  I fought the pests and watered and weeded and nurtured.  Results were a little lackluster.  So once the frost hit, I have left the garden alone.  When I looked out the window this morning, there was lettuce leaves fluttering in the breeze and carrot fronds and the peas that had done nothing earlier were shooting up.  They thrived when I stopped focusing on them so hard and trying to make them grow and just let them do what they needed to do on their own.  So, it must be with the people in my life.  And so must it be for myself as well.  

I am abundantly done with world management...Anyone else with me?

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