Thursday, March 16, 2017

Ways to Shame Our Mother by All The Skiff Boys

Today, after my son cursed in front of the landlord (not a simple hell or damn, no he went all out saying words that would cause a sailor to blush) I decided it was time to come clean you, my blog friends.  We all have moments where we wish the floor would just swallow us whole. Unfortunately, in Skiffdom that is an almost daily occurrence for me.  This is a list of the last three months, it isn't all inclusive by any means.  It just hits some of the highlights....or low-lights if you will.  Please feel free to laugh at my pain; I do all the time.



1. Go to school and curse out your teachers.....repeatedly.
2. Go to school and claim the reason your cursing them out is because there is NO food at all in the house.  Then force your mother to explain how you do indeed have food in the house,  you just aren't happy that you had stir-fry and not McDonald's last night....to three different school teachers, administrators and therapist.
3. Go to the doctors and have a huge meltdown....the first time he meets you....and your mother.
4. Go to the NEW doctor and claim you have no healthy food in the house so that's  why you have to eat junk ALL DAY, EVERY DAY.  Then tell him your mom refuses to cook anything that isn't meat related.  Ignore the fact there are veggies and fruit currently going bad in the fridge at home because you refuse to eat them because they don't count as food.
5. Curse in front of the landlord.
6. Loudly claim, at the therapist office that your mother drinks alcohol ALL The Time.  Then ask if drinking red wine in healthy for your heart or does it make you an alcoholic.
At this point, I wish I did drink All The Freakin' Time.
7. Sneak out of the house and walk down one of the busiest streets in the city, in a Santa hat, at midnight, in the freezing rain....to go dumpster diving at Game Stop (after watching a YouTube video about how cool this is), even though you had been forbidden from even thinking about it.  Have two cops bring you home, to your grandparents, and plead your case, claiming you shouldn't get into too much trouble because you are a great kid and you already promised to never do it again.
8. Ask about oral sex, loudly, at the grocery store.....in front of a mother and two small children.
9. Make masturbation jokes in front of mixed company.
10. Make inappropriate sexist jokes, LOUDLY, while waiting at a stop light in front of Texas WOMEN'S University. Cause your mother to get many death glares.
11. Tell the BRAND FREAKIN' NEW Doctor, you are too smart to have to do your homework or pass your classes.
12. Get in arguments in class, with a large Hispanic population, supporting Trump.
I blame their father for this.
13. Argue that Islam is a religion the oppresses women with the Islamic girl in your class who wears a hijab. Have your teacher email your mother that though you have amazingly thought out opinions, it  would be better if you learned appropriate times and places for such discussions.
14. Watch porn while at your grandparents, in your mother's guestroom, causing questions to be raised about her sexuality and proclivities.
15. Cause your mother to write a blog about all the ways you've shamed her and all the best stories can't even be put on the list because they would embarrass you once you've grown some common sense.


Saturday, January 21, 2017

From Riches to Rags: A How to Guide For Going From Middle Class to Homeless in Six Months or Less part 2

At the end of our episode yesterday, we left the Skiff's homeless and separating to live in different states.  Mom and the boys are heading to Virginia to live with relatives. Meanwhile, Dad is staying in Texas for work and trying to find a new home for them.
I wish I could say that this blog would be a lighter and funnier read than yesterday's posting.  I do try to find the humor in our lives, even in the darkest hours.  However, though there were sparks of humor, the next months were some of the darkest nights my soul has ever had.  Our family was in crisis, my sanity hanging by a thread and our marriage was a thread snap away from ending. 
Yesterday, I purposely focused on the financial things that had led to this dark place and only alluded to the effects of that stress on our family.  In order for you to understand the light and grace at the end of this story, you have to understand just how dark the night became.

"I shall not sing a May song.
A May song should be gay.
I'll wait until November
And sing a song of gray.
I'll wait until November

That is the time for me.
I'll go out in the frosty dark
And sing most terribly.
And all the little people
Will stare at me and say,
"That is the Crazy Woman
Who would not sing in May." 

 Gwendolyn Brooks- The Crazy Woman

   

 October 2016
       Shamed: Evicted, Repo'ed and Po Po'ed

Friday, September 30th found me on the road, in a rental van, with all five boys heading to my parents house,  in a complete state of shock.  The past week had brought a whole new meaning to the word "stress".  We had spent that week doing everything in our power to avoid moving.  For the first time in three years our oldest child was back in school, in a fantastic autism program.  It had taken a team of professionals and us 6 months to prepare him for this huge step back into the world of public school.  Three years prior he had a complete breakdown due to his autism, generalized anxiety disorder and teen hormones.  He had such severe panic attacks that he was unable to leave the house most days.  For three years our lives had revolved around therapy appointments with his amazing psychologist,  a medicine regiment that was fit for a 90 year old horse, and little to no sleep.  The fact that he daily faced these challenges and I could not do anything to make it better for him is a kind of hell I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy.  He was the major reason we had moved to Brigadoon, a town with a well known autism program in their public schools.  That he was finally settling into his new school, made the idea of leaving completely unacceptable. When I realized we were not going to be able to avoid the inevitable loss of our house, I met with his psychologist (she's all the boys therapist).  I sat in her office and explained what was happening and asked for the best way to handle telling the boys.  I cannot tell you what an amazing doctor she is.  Not only did she write a letter to the court explaining the reasons us leaving was a very bad idea, she also started looking for other housing for us and stopped charging us for the boys therapy until we could pay. She was one of the amazing people who God used to get us through the darkness.
Unfortunately, the letter made no difference in our circumstances with our landlord.  So we were faced with the reality that we had to leave.  My husband and I spent that last week running the insane amount of errands it takes to relocate a family on little to no notice; withdrawing kids from school,  returning library things, getting the things needed for the trip, taking care of the banking things, etc.
The level of stress was beyond anything I can describe.  This is bad for any family but it is especially bad when you have special needs kids who cannot deal with emotional upheaval of any kind.  Heck a trip to six flags for two hours leads to two days of recovery meltdowns.  The meltdowns were happening fast and furious in our house.  The Friday before I left, it all hit the fan and our oldest had a meltdown on such a scale that he had to be restrained (restraining a 6ft tall, 200+ pound teenager is not an experience I would want anyone to deal with). The noise of the meltdown led to a noise complaint being filed with the police.  Blessedly, it only took them meeting our kids to understand the situation and to offer their help.  But the fact that the police were called to our home, even though the circumstances are explainable, was a level of shaming that this girl never thought she would experience.
The fact I was packing the boys and leaving my husband behind was a huge blow to our marriage.  Even though, I wasn't "leaving" my husband, I was in reality moving myself and all of our kids 1300 miles from my husband, leaving him alone with the cat.  That does psychological damage, no matter necessary it is.
September 30th....driving with a van full of excited boys, who have no idea yet that we are leaving for more than a visit to their grandparents (on the advice of their doctor's we were told to wait to tell them until after we got there and settled in.  It was decided that the level of emotional instability would be dangerous in an enclosed vehicle, particularly in view of the huge meltdown we had just experienced the week before)....trying to make it as normal as possible for them....my heart completely broken and feeling like a complete failure as a mother and wife.......driving halfway across the country to go live with my parents (I hadn't lived home since I was single and a teenager.  Now I was nearly 40, with five kids).  I cannot tell you the amount of shame, guilt and failure that I swallowed and tried to smile through.  I can honestly say that I have never been brought so low within myself.

November 2016
The Holidays....Now what

The next two months crept slowly by; time seemed to stand still as we fell into the semblance of a routine.  Because I had no idea how long we would be in Virginia, I couldn't enroll them in school.  So I tried to do a little homeschooling for the time there.  Being a parent to the Skiff boys is emotionally draining in the best of times.  Being in essence a single parent to them, is beyond anything I can describe. 
A week after we made it to Virginia and once there was absolutely no hope that we would be moving back to our house, I told them what was going on with our housing situation.  My boys are amazing.  They initially handled the news so much better than I could have ever imagined.  But the instability of our situation, being separated from their dad, friends, things and even our beloved Phil Cat weighed heavily on them.  They were on top of each other all the time, in a strange place without their routine, meds (our new insurance took three months to kick in) or even therapists.  I am the emotional stability of Skiffdom.  I am the one that makes it better for everyone.  Everyone needed something from me that I couldn't give them.  I could not make this better.  I could only try to mitigate the consequences.
I tried to keep everyone busy.  My mother very generously allowed me to drive her SUV since I was car-less as well as homeless.  We went to parks.  We went to museums.  We went apple picking. We went to the library.   No matter where and what I tried to do, the meltdowns were constant.  If it wasn't one it was another. I shutdown, curled into myself and cut myself off from pretty much everyone who loved me, including my husband.  If you want a quick way to nearly destroy your marriage, move you and your kids halfway across the country and then emotionally shut your partner out.  It is a sure recipe for marital disaster.  Every time we talked on the phone we ended up arguing over anything and everything.  Slowly the number of calls decreased and we resorted to quick texts.  The miles between us grew with every passing day.
There were good moments that happened along the way.  I was able to reconnect with most of my siblings, friends I hadn't seen in years came to visit me, I met new family and I was able to get to know my precious nieces and nephews.
Thanksgiving my husband was able to come for a few days.  I was hoping that those few precious days would be used to reconnect.  Instead, it just emphasized the large gulf that had grown between us.  The boys enjoyed having their Dad there. But it made it that much harder for them when he left.   He felt abandoned by me.  I felt overwhelmed and neglected by him.   By the time he flew back to Texas, I was almost dreading him visiting for Christmas. I wish I could make this story prettier for you. But that wouldn't be the truth.  The truth was dark and ugly.

December 2016
Ho-Ho-Home

December dawned darker and more lonely than anything I had experienced before.  Still I was determined to make Christmas as normal as possible for my boys.  I did my best to do all our normal traditions, making cookies, drinking hot chocolate out of Christmas mugs while decorating the tree, driving around looking at lights. I went through the motions but it felt empty and lonely without my husband there to enjoy it with us.
A bright spot occurred when my sister surprised us by telling me she and the family had chipped in and raised money for us to buy Christmas gifts for the boys.  The generosity of our family and friends has humbled me over and over again throughout this whole year.  Again, I simply cannot say thank you enough.  To be loved and cared about by so many is one of the most amazing and humbling experiences.  Please know that what you gave or the kind words you said or the visit you made to us during this time was in no way taken for granted.  In fact, each of these things is stored and treasured deep within my heart.
We were working on three months of being in Virginia and nothing had changed in our circumstances.  My husband was busy working both his regular job and still working on starting his own company.  But he had been unable to find us a house.  The reality was we could no longer exist in this in between place.  It was decided that if we were unable to move back to Texas after Christmas, I was going to enroll the boys into school in Virginia and we would remain there until the end of June when school released.  Though unspoken, I believe both my husband and I knew that decision would have ended our marriage.  Our relationship was depleted, with each passing day any sentiment that remained was being twisted by anger and blame.
But God had a better plan.  A week after we had decided on that plan, my husband was able to find us a house, after months of being turned away time after time.  We had a house to move back to! It was small and in a town we hadn't even considered before but it was a place to come home to!!!
I cannot tell you what a relief this was. 
We had been brought lower in every way than we had ever been in our lives together.  Finally, there was a real solid hope.  We could move forward.
My husband moved into our new home the week before Christmas.  He immediately fell in love with the house and the town.  After months of being alone, he was finally home.
He flew to Virginia the eve of Christmas Eve.  We celebrated a wonderful Christmas with my family. The boys had an amazing Christmas, thanks to our family and friends.  And we were able to put all our finances into getting us home. So we began the process of getting packed up to drive back. 
Unfortunately, Virginia wasn't quite through with us.  We all came down with a stomach bug from hell.  We've had a lot of stomach bugs go through the house through out the years.  This is by far the worst one we ever experienced.  After four days of stomach bug hell, we were finally ready to hit the road.
Never have you seen people more excited to get back to Texas.  Pulling into the driveway was like a dream.  I cannot tell you what it is like to finally have a place after having been without a place of your own for so long. The boys loved it immediately.  They are in walking distance to all their favorite things to do.  The house is smaller but the layout actually works better for our family.  And it is so much easier for me to keep it clean because let's be honest, with five boys the majority of housework falls on me.;)
Our financial situation has stabilized a lot.  The insurance from my husband's new company is much better.  Our monthly expenses have dropped dramatically from what they were when we lived in Brigadoon. We do still need to replace the family car but that will happen in time. Right now, we are just happy to be home.
I have learned important lessons throughout this process. I have learned that I cannot do it all on my own. I go to very dark places.  I need my friends, family and most importantly my husband.  I have learned that contrary to my long held belief,  shame won't kill you.  I have learned that if you are willing to share them, the dark and shameful times will bring you even closer to the people around you.  I have learned that our marriage needs to be nurtured.  We have made it a point to spend time reconnecting since my husband came to get us around Christmastime.  Our marriage is in a much better place than it was a month and a half ago. 
Our family, as a whole, is still healing from the past year. The boys  are more settled and happy than I have seen them in a long time.  So are my husband and I.   It will take time to fully recover but we are on the right path. 



 

Friday, January 20, 2017

From Riches to Rags: A How to Guide For Going From Middle Class to Homeless in Six Months or Less part 1

Here it is, the blog I've been pondering, dreading, nervous to write for a long time.  It's also the blog many of you have been waiting for.  The blog that answer's the question, "What the heck happened to the Skiffs?"
I have endeavored to be tactfully transparent in this blog.  Believe it or not, that's not an easy thing for me.  I'm a good southern girl, raised to keep family business in the family and to smile at the outside world while your life explodes around you.  I'm the girl that hates to inconvenience anyone.  The one who apologized over and over to the nurses when I screamed out during labor.  Living the life of Skiff out loud and for real has been a long process of letting go and accepting myself, our little world and the crazy that spins up, like dust storms in the desert, in our daily lives. That said, one thing I have not been transparent in is our finances.  It isn't that I intentionally hid anything; it's just nothing ruins relationships faster than bringing money into them.   I'm a good southern girl and we all know that you don't talk finances in polite company.  So this blog has been the hardest thing I've had to write to date.  During the last four months,  I pretty much dropped off the map in all my relationships.  I had to hibernate emotionally just to survive and to stay strong for my kids through one of the hardest times our family has been through.  I still haven't really begun to process all that happened in less than six months.  That being said, because our struggle became very public, I feel it is only right that I tell the tale.  The very nature of this story means that I will be sharing more details than I am comfortable with but I can't tell you the real story without including them.  Please know my heart in sharing these things is to tell our story of the past year.  It is not because I am in anyway trying to solicit sympathy. This is our story...the good, the bad and the ugly.  We take full responsibility for the decisions that led to this road.  It isn't a pretty story but it is one we are emerging from.



"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep."  Robert Frost


                         January 2016
                         New Beginnings
Standing in the airport, at the luggage carousel, I had no idea how much my life was about to change.  Christmas Eve, my grandmother had passed away.  My husband and I made emergency travel plans to get me back to Virginia for her funeral. I had been close to my grandmother, probably closer than most people.  I  spent many hours with her watching Murder She Wrote, drinking tea, talking and reading....all at once.  It was our way.  Or swinging on her front porch in the early morning or late evening, drinking tea, talking, or just quietly sitting and rocking.  Her last years had been hard and her passing though sad was also a relief of her suffering.  So as I waited for my luggage, I was quietly contemplative about the woman who had taught me about hospital corners, how to wear make-up and how to prank snooty art dealers.  The last thing on my mind was that I would soon be moving away from the home we'd lived in for 8 years and the town that I had a love/hate relationship with.
My luggage finally made it's way to me. I exited the airport and made my way to my husband, who was excitedly awaiting my arrival with good news.  I climbed into our SUV, LuLu, and he drove me to get breakfast, which is our thing.  I sat cross from him and he shared that he had been approached with a job offer.  He wasn't really looking for a new job because he really liked the company he was at.  But this new company offered him a way forward in his career, management. He had maxed out his upward mobility at the company he was presently at.  It had the added enticement of a 20k a year raise, which was definitely a factor in the subsequent choices we made.
While being excited that he had this opportunity, I was also wary.  This job was a 6 month contract to hire, normal practice in the IT field that my husband works in.  My concern lay in the fact we are a family of many, large, monthly medical expenses.  I was uncomfortable with the health insurance the recruiter's offered for the 6 months before he was hired full time.  But with such a large raise, we felt somewhat confident that we could handle any added expenses short term.  After several weeks of negotiation, it was decided my husband would take this new job.  
One of the considerations in taking this job was that we would need to move because of the crazy daily commute it would require.  We originally intended to move in June, after the boys finished the school year.  But after a few weeks, it became very clear that we would need to move much more quickly than originally intended.  I loved the little town we lived in.  I had made so many good friends, people who were now more family than friends.  We were involved in the community and our boys had spent most of they're school careers there.  However, I also HATED the school system.  Fighting for accommodations for four special needs kids, in small Texas town, will make you enemies more quickly than campaigning for Donald Trump.  Since we had to move anyway, we shopped for the best school district we could get in.  It was the driving motivator in choosing the town we eventually landed in.  For the purposes of this blog, that town shall be called Brigadoon, a beautiful living dream that is lost to the mist. By the end of February, my husband had a new job, we had a new town, new house and a new school district.  What could possibly go wrong?
                                                     April 2016
                                           Let the Games Begin

Spring dawned with so much promise.  Brigadoon was practically perfect in every way.  The boys school district actually came to me ASKING if they could please provide more services to the boys.  If you have in any way experienced the Special Education process, you know this is about as common as seeing a flying, rainbow colored unicorn pig.  Actually, I'm pretty sure that you are more likely to experience the colorful unicorn pig than you are to be offered more special accommodations for your special needs kids.
Apart from the school system, Brigadoon was exactly the kind of town I loved.  It was full of eclectic, small town shops and the convenience of  anything I could possibly need within a couple of miles of my house.  I had 3 Chick-Fil-a's within 2 miles of my house and a coffee shop the played blues music and served amazing, inexpensive coffee!  Could any place be more perfect? Ah, Brigadoon, a beautiful dream that fades too quickly away.
Yet, even in the perfection, the rumblings of unrest were starting.  April was the first month we had to use our new insurance to pay for our medical expenses.  Our copay's had gone up by almost double.  And our meds....oh the meds....they had gone up by 10 times what we had been paying just a month before.  Those expenses added to the increase of our housing expenses and travel, more than ate up the raise that my husband had received.  Add that to the fact, the move itself had cost us 10k that was not planned, we were beginning to struggle in a way that we hadn't since we had moved to Texas 8 years before.  But there was light at the end of the tunnel.  If we could just hold on until August, my husband would be made permanent at the new company and our health insurance would greatly improve.  As our biggest financial issue was the medical expenses, this was a huge ray of hope for us.
                                          June 2016
                          The Gremlins Come Out to Play

By the time June rolled around, we were in a bad place.  Besides the above stated issues, all the little things that could go wrong were.  Our washer and dryer broke.  We had four separate flat tires, and the tires weren't even old.  My husband was working his job and doing side jobs trying to hold our heads above the water.  But as soon as we got a little relief, something else would go wrong.  He had a fender bender.  His autoimmune disease flared and he had to miss work.  I got sick. He got sick.  The kids got sick.   We all needed more meds.  It was never ending.  We simply could not catch a break.  The stress was taking it's toll on us all.  We managed to keep the details of our situation away from the kids but they could definitely feel the stress that was swirling around us like a great swarm of locust.  Everyone was on edge and our normal release valves were not an option because the finances simply weren't there.  I withdrew from most of my friends and tried to batten down the hatches and just get through until magical month of August came around.

                                        August 2016
                                      Brigadoon Dies

Once August first rolled around, we were holding our breath waiting for my husband's transition to permanent employee.  The company had a new CEO who had restructured the entire company.  The management position had never materialized and my husband hated the boring grunt work he was currently doing.  But he was willing to stay on, just to stabilize our very precarious financial position.  So we waited. And waited. And waited.  He was promised that the transition would happen but whenever he pushed for details, he was put off until later.  My husband, had several large contracts from his side work, which was blossoming into a real business.  We made the decision for him to focus on those contracts and leave the company that had still not made him permanent.  In hind sight, this was a terrible decision.  But in the middle of the craziness we were faced with, we were not thinking all that clearly. We had no more time to be put off.  We had robbed Peter to pay Paul as long as we could.  Both Peter and Paul were demanding payment and we had nothing left to give them.  
Our rent was late but we could pay it. However, when I went to pay it they refused the payment unless I could also pay the late fees attached.  We didn't have the extra cash so we received a letter to vacate or face eviction.  By the end of September we had a court date for eviction. And no idea how we were going to provide a roof for our kids.  We had voluntarily turned over our SUV to the creditors to hopefully save more money.  That was a hard blow for me personally.  LuLu had been the first decent vehicle I had ever owned.  But even with that payment gone, we were just too far in the hole. 
We did everything we could to save our house but there comes a point when your plane is hurtling toward the ground in a nosedive, that you just can't pull up anymore.  That's where we were; in a nosedive, spinning out of control and having no idea what to do next.  
I cannot begin to describe the stress and panic we were feeling.  We hadn't told anyone what was going on but we finally confided in q few good friends and our families so that they could pray for direction and a miracle for us.  
Our good friend created a Go Fund Me page to raise support for us.  That page and those who gave were a lifeline to us.  We used that money to get me and the boys safely to Virginia. 
The last week of September, we had exhausted all our resources and we decided that I would take the boys to Virginia to live with my parents while Usarian (whom had been hired a new company, with yet another raise....praise God!) waited the two weeks to start his new job, packed the house and then saved money to get us a new place.  We were blessed with dear friend's who opened their home to him during this time.  The plan was that we would be apart about a month or so but it ended up being much longer than we had planned.
I have to take a moment to say THANK YOU, to the many friend's and family who came to our aid during this time.  I cannot begin to express just how much your prayer's, support and friendship meant to us during this time.  Honestly, I don't know that we would have made it through without you all.  There were days to come that it was your words and support that were the only thing that got me through.
I also want to say a special thank you to my parents, who not only opened their home to me and our five kids, they did it with such grace and love.  Three months is a very long time to have an extra 6 people in your home, especially when 5 of those people are teen boys with special needs.  So thank you mom and dad.  I cannot begin to thank you enough.

Tomorrow I will write the ending of our story.  But for now, I'm going to sign off and enjoy the new house my family is in. And the fact we are in it together.  Stay tuned for the journey between there and here. 


Monday, September 19, 2016

The Art Of Letting Go

I don't know who out there will read this today.  It has been so long since I sat down to write that I fear my fingers have rusted and my keyboard is collecting social security.
It isn't for lack of wanting to write.  Though I do admit to a modicum of laziness, that seems inherent in many of us artistic types.  No, my lack of verbosity has been a hard, self imposed exile. For years now, I have written to you about the ups and downs in the crazy land of Skiff.  The stories have been shared through much laughter and many tears.  However, now the Skiff boys have come to an age where their stories should be their's to share when they are ready, or at the very least mine to share when they grant me permission.  The teenage years are wrought with heartache, turmoil, growth, expansion and self actualization.  To be asked to do that while your mother is sharing your struggles with the world is unfair.

This has left me in a bit of a conundrum.  How does one gain glimpses into Skiffdom, when so many in Skiffdom long for anonymity?  I think I've figured some of that out now.  I will once again be blogging but much of it as it pertains to my children will be in a more general sense.  I do believe there is a great need for information regarding navigating these crazy teen years, especially with special needs children.  I will share what I'm learning and hopefully learn from some of you who are on the same road.  Together, we will survive. ;)
This also provides me an opportunity to share some of the things that I am learning and growing in.  I get a chance to challenge myself to be truly transparent, even in the things I find most uncomfortable; my struggles and failings.  
 My friends, there is no quick way for me to catch you up on the past six months in Skiffdom.  It has been insanely eventful: my husband changed jobs, we moved to be closer to said job. My boys started a new school system (which has been amazing). We had some extreme medical expenses, a car accident (funnily enough this wasn't related to the medical expenses), appliance deaths, our old land lord is suing us for a $20k in damages to the house we lived in for 8 years (damages we dispute. He renowed the house after we moved.).  Through a series of strange events my husband started his own company, he left the "new" 40 hour a week  job to fully pursue growing his business, after receiving several large contracts, more unexpected and crazy expenses and a few failed contracts later, we are now on the verge of losing everything: house, cars, great new school district, EVERYTHING.
I don't share this because I want you to feel sorry for us or because I want someone to magically fix this mess.  Indeed, I did everything I could to hide how bad things had become.  After all, we may be a bit zany but we are responsible adults, who are generally respected and well liked.  We are not the kind of people who end up in these types of positions, or so I told myself.
In fact, had a dear friend not created a Go Fund me account once she heard our story, you still would not be hearing about this.
With the Go Fund me suddenly everyone knew that we were in crisis.  I thought having special needs kids had cured me of my pride issues but I was wrong.  I had to truly humble myself and be vulnerable before family, friends and strangers in a way I never thought I would have to be.  I thought I lived my life in a very transparent and genuine way but I was still holding back some essential truths; truths I found embarrassing.  The past two weeks has been me learning to let go of pride.
I thought my lessons were done for a bit.  After all how much more do you want from me God?
Today, on the way home from the courthouse, I realized my lessons were far from over.
I've never been one to hold material things too tightly.  I was raised in a family where money was always a struggle.  I was raised with plenty of love and strong moral character but we didn't have a lot in the way of earthly possessions.  That combined with the fact that I've moved 30 times in my 39 years of life, gave me a rather different perspective on things. Things are replaceable, people are not" has always been my motto.  So today when I realized I needed to let go of things, I was kind of shocked.  Things aren't a huge deal to me.
Then I realized that the things I need to give up are so much less tangible than a toaster or a chair. I need to give up my insatiable need for security. We live life on the edge in many ways, so many don't realize how much I shroud myself in a blanket of security.  Security of a good job, security of a great school district, security that no matter what challenge arises, my husband and I would find a way to beat it.  The truth is though none of those things are wrong, and in most cases are wise and true, they are not where my security comes from.  Jobs can come and go, no matter what the school district, I will always have to fight for my special needs education, and my husband and I are not able to beat every struggle that arises on our own.  Our security, my security, can not be found in things, even if they are intangible.  My security must be wrapped up in Christ because he is the only one who will never fail me.
This is my lesson to grow in.  This is my burden to lay down.  Lord, give me the strength to follow you into the shadow lands,  knowing that you will never lead me astray,


Glimpses of Skiff: The Art of Letting Go

Glimpses of Skiff: The Art of Letting Go: I don't know who out there will read this today.  It has been so long since I sat down to write that I fear my fingers have rusted and ...

Sunday, June 28, 2015

A Glimpse of Becoming

Becoming: noun
1. the process of coming to be something or of passing into a state.
as defined by Google

It's no secret that the pass few years have been a time of great change and growth for me.  For so long I tried to suppress my true personality so that I could be what I had been taught was a Godly woman: aka spineless, meek, submissive, subordinate, less than, unworthy.........you get the point.
The problem was I could never fully beat down who I was and I felt like a failure as a woman and as a Christian.  I remember when I was fifteen years old, one of our family friends called me a feminist (the ULTIMATE insult in the circles my family traveled at the time).  I spent years trying to defend myself against that accusation; though inside I wondered why women shouldn't have equal rights to men in and out of the church.

Fast forward to today, I proclaim loudly and defiantly: I AM a feminist.  I believe firmly, unequivocally women as equal to men in every way.  But I'm jumping ahead of myself.
So much of who I am has evolved over the past two years I felt I should write out where I now stand.  Since this is my blog, the place I express myself most freely, I decided to write my updated statement of beliefs and principals to live by here.

The amazing thing about this process is that I have become my true self, the self I always was trying to beat down before.  This process has been painful and scary at times.  I have lost friends, pissed off relatives but honestly, it has been worth every single tear and frustrated scream.  I am me, I like me, I am satisfied with who I am for the first time in my life.
Does this mean that I will never change again? Absolutely not!  I pray I continue to become.  I want to embrace all that life has to offer me.

1.  I believe in God the Father, Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth: And in Jesus Christ, his only begotten Son, our Lord: Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary: Suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, dead and buried: He descended into hell:
 The third day he rose again from the dead: He ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty: From thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead:
 I believe in the Holy Ghost:the communion of saints: The forgiveness of sins: The resurrection of the body: And the life everlasting.

2.I'm officially done with ultra conservative, right wing loving, militant "Christian Church". After 35 years I'm completely done. I'm done with a church that would rather condemn people who are not of their faith for "sin" and yet continually ignores the huge moral lapses in her own midst. I'm sick of homosexuals being condemned and hated, while pastors are screwing their own congregants, while women are treated like third class citizens, while the good people of the church gossip and tear down anyone they don't like in their midst. I'm done. I want to raze the current church to the ground. I will not set foot in another such church again. I'm over it and I'm over you if you are promoting that kind of hateful hypocrisy. Once the CHURCH gets the FOREST out of their own eyes, then we can start judging non-Christians for their splinters.

3.  I believe women were created in the image of God just as much as men.  I will never again feel guilty for having the body God gave me.  I refuse to accept that my body is somehow responsible for someone else's sin or temptation.  I am responsible for my own actions; others are responsible for their actions.  I will never again dress down or hide for another's convenience.

4.  I believe women are designed to be strong, effective leaders,  I will never again submit blindly to a man simply because of his position or his gender.  I do not believe having a vagina makes me one iota less capable of leading or decision making.

5. I will raise my children to understand sex and consent.  I will not hide behind ridiculous abstinence teachings to avoid having the hard conversations about responsible sexual behavior.  My boys will understand that no means no.  My boys will enter this world prepared to date in a respectful manner and they will be raised to expect the same respect from their partner.

6. I believe that art in all it's forms was created to inspire us to be more, to appreciate beauty in everything, even things that are normally viewed as ugly.  I believe art is one of God's greatest gifts to us.  I believe that it is essential in today's technology and data driven age that we teach our children to value all forms of art: written, musical, drawn, spoken, painted, portrayed on stage, the list goes on and on.

7.  I like who I am.  I really don't care if others don't like me.  Part of becoming is letting go of the things and people that hold you back.  Love me or hate me, either way I will use your input to continue on my path.  This may sound arrogant but in reality it is simply being true to who I am.

I was going to make a list of ten things because it's the thing to do but honestly these seven items are all I had to say.  I'm okay with that.  I've never been very good at conforming. ;)
I need to thank my husband.  He has been so instrumental in this journey.  He has encouraged me to continue to grow, to continue to become; even on the days when my becoming looked like me ranting or crying or simply sitting, thinking.  He is ever my cheerleader, encourager and friend.  I truly appreciate and love you, Usarian.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

The Cult of the Shoe

The sun was high over head and blazing down on the dusty man that stood alone in the great desert land.  He wiped his sweaty brow with an old blue bandanna, passed on to him by his grandfather.  Tossing the shovel aside, he grabbed a bottle of triple filtered water.  He hadn't started this project alone, in the beginning there had been many out here with him digging in the heat and dirt.  But as the weeks passed with little to nothing to show for the hours of sweat and back breaking labor they had all abandoned him.  His research grant had been revoked, the ancient land of Texas was just a myth they said.  Still he labored on, his grandfather had told him the stories, passed down to him by his grandfather, who had heard them from his grandfather, and so on.  Texas had once been a vibrant land, full of legendary heroes of old, known as cowboys. his ancestors had been among these "cowboy" peoples.   Not much was known of these heroes of old, less was known of their beliefs and customs.   Once again he wiped his brow, wet the bandanna with some of the water from the bottle and ran it over the back of his neck.  Today was the day, he was sure of it.  Today he would find proof that an ancient thriving civilization once existed where now there was nothing but dust and sand, scorched by the searing sun.    He looked over the grid he'd laid out months ago, he randomly picked a section toward the upper left corner.  He hadn't really spent much time in that quadrant.   He picked up the shovel and began the exhausting task of digging.  

The sun had worked it's way across the sky and was setting when his shovel struck something hard....another rock no doubt.  Still he tossed aside the shovel and began the painstaking process of brushing away loose dirt.  One must always be cautious,he never knew when what looked to be a worthless rock would actually be the treasured artifact that would prove his theory.  As he brushed aside the sand and dirt he began to get excited, this was no ordinary rock!  The shape was oddly oblong and smooth.  It was definitely man made!  The sun was setting but he dared not stop.  He powered up the solar generator and lights illuminated the dig site.  Another two hours passed before he was able to work the object free.  It appeared to be an ancient shoe of sorts that had petrified and turned to rock.    The details were preserved almost perfectly, he could make out the crisscross design of ancient laces.  Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he tenderly cradled the treasure.  Here was the validation he had been looking for, no more would he be the laughing stock of the archaeological community.  His tears turned to laughter and he danced alone under the moon lit sky.

Ten years passed quickly by.  No longer was he a madman digging alone in the desert.  Now he was the world's leading expert on ancient Texas.  Now others did the hard work of digging in the heat and he supervised their work and studied each and every treasure unearthed.  The shoe had led to the discovery of an entire town that had been buried under the sands of time.  Foundations of houses and businesses had been excavated, pieces of pottery, plastics, metals and bone had all been cataloged and studied.  Bits and pieces of a long lost civilizations began to come together to form a glimpse of how the ancients lived and worked.  It appeared they were nomadic, living in one town and commuting to another in some kind of rudimentary machine for work. Over-sized concrete and asphalt roads had been discovered, miles upon miles of them.  It was inconceivable to think of how these primitive ancients had built such a large infrastructure, given their limited tools and education.   Large, rusted metal stars were found scattered throughout the dig,   It seemed nearly every house in the town had at least one of these stars.  There were even concrete stars embedded in the roadwork.  These cowboys had worshiped the night sky it had been concluded.  What an amazing insight into their culture.     
 Still one piece of the puzzle nagged at the man.  That one shoe that had led to the discovery of an entire town had also led to many more shoes, all in the same area, arranged sporadically around what had been a small lake.  There were shoes of all different sizes, that had been purposefully coated in mud and left.  The mud had preserved the shoes, petrifying them; a bit of good fortune for the man and his colleagues.   The man puzzled over this cult of shoe worshipers.  Why had there been only left shoes?  Why so many different sized shoes? Was this the way they memorialized their dead?  What was the significance of the lake?  So many questions whose answers had been swallowed up by the sands of time.

Present Day
Paul limped home, mud covering his left leg to the knee. He ripped his pants and lost his shoe in the pond, again.    Mom was going to be mad, again.  She said if he lost another shoe this month he was going to have to wear his slippers to school, he hadn't told her he'd already lost one of those in the mud too.  





This story came to me one day after Paul came home for the gazillionth time covered in mud and missing his left shoe. Yes it's always just his one shoe.  Don't ask me why, I have given up trying to figure out the answer.  I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my crazy brain.  I can't help it, my mind turns everything into a story. 

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