Technology is freaking awesome. We just talked to Emerson on the iPhone and Libby was able to say night nights to Daddy. Her face changes when she sees him. This was the third night I had to put the children to bed on my own. Emerson had to go to Pittsburgh for work. He left Sunday morning, and is coming back tomorrow night.
These days have been exciting mostly because I've had the car to myself, and we've been able to go places; nothing fancy, just here and there. I've been thinking lately that I do want a car because it keeps me sane.
In my last post I was talking about my stress level, and my endoscopy. Well, nothing happened. My biopsies came out fine. I do have a mild gastritis, but the doctor said he thinks I'm very healthy. Nothing that indicates cancer or stones. Nothing. Although I did have some high levels in two pancreatic enzymes, those could be due to the fact that I had pain that week. And I haven't had any pain since then. I do feel pain sometimes, but I just realized I feel "pain" whenever I get anxious or stressed. I can actually feel how my heart beats faster when my children go crazy at the same time, and I was able to detect that noticeably with Emerson gone for four days.
So as I try to work through this, I can see there will be an end. I want God to take it away, just like He took away my fear of Emerson cheating on me or other silly thoughts. But He might not take it away ever. Those feelings or thoughts still come, but I don't engage in them anymore. I take them captive. I guess I forget very often that we are in a spiritual fight every day. I just forget. That's what I don't do with the train in my brain with the death stuff- I don't make it stop. And the train goes and goes and goes until I die.
Everybody going crazy
I'm healthy. I'm so thankful I'm healthy. Now all my children have to tell me is the same I tell them when they cry, "Tranquiliza tus nervios". In fact, two weeks after the endoscopy I kept on losing weight. My sister told me that I had to stop worrying because even though I was eating like a pig, my stress was also messing with my weight. She thinks my gastritis is actually nervous. So from eating 1800 cal/day, I'm eating 2200 now. She also told me to stop getting myself on the scale every freaking day because that, believe or not, was also stressing me out. Almost two weeks ago I was at 124 lb. We'll see next Monday.
These days that Emerson has been away have helped me to think about my fears, and kinda discover the why's of them. I was telling Merritt today that Monday night I had a breakthrough, I'll talk about that later. But what I really want to say is that Emerson is the man I need in my life. I'm so grateful he is my husband, and that he talks to me and tells me the truth when I need it the most.
 |
| 2009 and 2013. 16 lb later (Compliments of Motherhood) |
These days that Emerson has been away have helped me to think about my fears, and kinda discover the why's of them. I was telling Merritt today that Monday night I had a breakthrough, I'll talk about that later. But what I really want to say is that Emerson is the man I need in my life. I'm so grateful he is my husband, and that he talks to me and tells me the truth when I need it the most.
I'm saying this because the other day we were talking about all these things, and I was telling him that there are nights I don't sleep because I think about stupid stuff. When I say stupid I mean really stupid. There's this train in my mind, and wherever my train goes, I'm always dead. He said he had no idea how I could be living like that. I said that on those nights I also tell God I trust Him. But Emerson interrupted me and said, "No, you don't trust Him because you're living in fear. If you trusted Him, you would have peace. You would be living in faith, not in fear."
"Shucks", said the little bunny... that was true. How does something like that happen? You can lose your faith or whatever, and the change is so subtle... I didn't even notice. It's not that I don't have Jesus in my heart, but I somehow got distracted and looked at something else, rather than looking at Him - figuratively speaking, of course. My fear became bigger than my God, in my mind and in my heart.
 |
| Jumpy, jumpy |
 |
| Latocilla |
 |
| Acrobacias |
On Friday I talked to Jeff, and we had this conversation about the exact same things. As it happens, he struggles with similar stuff too. It was good to have his perspective considering I'm half his age. I told him I'm afraid of dying because I think that if I die no one will ever tell my children about Jesus. I told him Emerson is a great dad, but I was afraid he wouldn't tell them about Jesus enough. This is not new for Emerson. Emerson would like me to tell them more about how to live in this world other than just Jesus, Jesus, Jesus... I would like to hear more Jesus coming out of his mouth, other than business, work, and goals. I guess those things just get intertwined somehow. There's no way Emerson could be such a good, honest, hard-working, loyal man without God in his life. I just have this unmet need about having my children secure. I'm working on that.
"Emerson is right. You don't trust God. You don't trust Him with your children", Jeff said.
FUUUUUUUUUUDGE. I wasn't expecting to discover that.
FUUUUUUUUUUDGE. I wasn't expecting to discover that.
 |
| Guapito con la gorra de mami |
So as I try to work through this, I can see there will be an end. I want God to take it away, just like He took away my fear of Emerson cheating on me or other silly thoughts. But He might not take it away ever. Those feelings or thoughts still come, but I don't engage in them anymore. I take them captive. I guess I forget very often that we are in a spiritual fight every day. I just forget. That's what I don't do with the train in my brain with the death stuff- I don't make it stop. And the train goes and goes and goes until I die.
Ahhh, I'm hang gliding... Hoooney, take a good picture... I'm dead. What a freak! - that's me. You need to watch Wedding Crashers if you didn't get my joke.
This week the train has been there, but I have chosen not to ride it. I haven't been thinking about death. Those thoughts still came, but I chose not to focus on them because I'm alive, and I have my children today. That guy they call Jesus really knew what He was talking about when He said each day has enough trouble of its own. I've been so busy lately in the mornings... and I don't even know why. I do the exact same things in the mornings when Emerson is at the office, but I feel somehow he is missing.
I don't know, it might be the psychological effect of knowing him far away. Then go to the park with the children, or go buy bread to Walmart, or to buy a cake pan. Come home at 5 pm with those two crying at the same time because they didn't take good naps since we were outside at nap time. Plus they are hungry. Entertain them while you make dinner, feed them. Wash the dishes. Give Libby a bath while Enzo is crying his lungs out in his crib (Enzo also got a bath some days). Then pick up every single thing that you have left everywhere around the house, plus all the toys. Brush teeth. Wait until Daddy calls to say night nights.
By then it's 8:20 pm and I've been doing all this on my own for three days... I DON'T HAVE THE FREAKING TIME TO THINK I AM GOING TO DIE!! Does that make sense?? My mind has been so busy lately with healthy stuff and lots of things to do that I don't have the mental energy at the end of the day to ride the death train!!
By then it's 8:20 pm and I've been doing all this on my own for three days... I DON'T HAVE THE FREAKING TIME TO THINK I AM GOING TO DIE!! Does that make sense?? My mind has been so busy lately with healthy stuff and lots of things to do that I don't have the mental energy at the end of the day to ride the death train!!
 |
| Just beautiful |
I need to get out of the house more often. I'm actually calling a MOPS group tomorrow. I came to discover that even though I love my children dearly, I need to get away from them sometimes. DUH!! And we have to go outside to enjoy the weather, and the parks, the playgrounds, and go get a $1.75 frozen yogurt; hence the car...
Dear children,
By the time you read this - and actually cherish it in your hearts- you'll be about thirty years old (and I'm low balling). At least you have to have a couple of children to realize that I love you with all my heart, but that Mommy needs time to be on her own. There's nothing spiritual about being ALL the time with you. I thought you needed to be ALL your time with me and I with you, but Mommy needs alone time. There's nothing wrong with that. It's very healthy. I need time on my own to refresh my mind and recharge my energies to be the best mom you deserve.
I am very proud of you, Libby. You are becoming such a good helper around the house. You take care of Harry just as I take care of Enzo. I am sure that you will be a great Mommy one day if you choose to. You are the best daughter God could have ever given me, and you definitely are the best big sister Enzo could ever had. I am so proud that even at this young age you are letting God work in your heart. There is no way you could be the little tenderhearted, kind, loving, obedient, compliant, patient and self-controlled toddler you are without His help.
Libby being a Mommy
Enzo, you are such a happy guy. So content. You are always laughing and you are ready to play all the time. I know you love your sister with all your heart. You can't tell me anything yet -you are only five months old- but I can see it in your eyes every time she comes and hugs you or when she puts her whole body all over you. Sometimes you cannot even breathe, but you always smile when she comes. You follow her with your eyes all the time, and you pay attention to everything she does, even if she is just watching TV.
I love you, Son. I am so thankful that God made you a boy. I didn't want a boy at the beginning because I didn't know what to expect, you know... But when you were born I asked everybody to shut up, and let me discover for myself if you were a boy or girl. When the nurses put you on top of me, the very first thing you did was peeing on my face, and then I said, "It's a boy! It's a boy". I was sooo happy. I am proud to be your Mom.
Enzo dancing
So on Sunday we took Emerson to the airport at 11 am. We came back home so that I could nurse Enzo, and give him his cereal and fruit. Libby watched Harry. At the beginning I didn't want to go to Chino's party on my own, but Emerson wasn't here, so why would I be in the house with the children all Sunday long? So we went there... We had a really fun time. We got there around 12:45 pm. We ordered something to eat for Libby, and it was huge!! She was eating while everybody was getting to the surprise party at Alicia's. We colored for awhile. Enzo did awesome.
He cried for a little bit, but then he took a long nap with noise and everything. Libby ate very well, and I finished the rest. She loved the frosting on the cake. She did very well. We left there around 3:30 pm. All that time, she was seated on the high chair, so happy and content, just hanging out with me, Ana, Edu, Norvis, and Miss Julie.
 |
| Coloring |
 |
| Eating quesadillas |
 |
| Enzo hanging out |
We sang Happy Birthday to Chino, and she got excited that everybody was clapping and being so loud. When we left the restaurant she forgot Caillou, but Dana ran like crazy across the parking lot so we could have it back. I'm so glad she did, because I freaked out when I noticed he was missing, but I couldn't go back. Enzo was already in the car, and I had just buckled Libby up. I was just hoping she wouldn't notice any time soon. And then I saw Dana yelling for me :)))
After the party, we went to Sur La Table to buy a cake pan. I wanted to take a closer look at all the pans, but we couldn't find the one I was looking for. They slept in the car. I actually nursed Enzo while Libby was still sleeping before going into the store. The fondant is cheaper though. We came back home around 5:30 pm that day, and had hamburgers for dinner.
 |
| Fell asleep in the car before Sur La Table |
On Monday we were home all day long until 4 pm. We went to this other store they suggested at Sur La Table, and bought the pan. The name is Bake a Cake. Libby was sleeping in the car. The store is really small, so small you don't even have to walk more than 10 feet to get in after you park your car. I left the children in there, I watched the car all the time. Emerson said I shouldn't have done that and I shouldn't, but Libby didn't wake up. She at least had the chance to sleep in the car for fifty minutes instead of ten. That made the tantrum at Walmart better, I guess. Then we went to Walmart to buy bread and milk because I didn't want to have lasagna for dinner again. We came home around 6 pm.
Something weird happen these four days. I don't know, I don't think weird is the right word. Okay, so... I was trying to get out of the house as late as possible to pretend my normal day when Emerson is here. I'm here all day long anyways - inside the house. And I felt I just wanted to kill time between 4 pm-7 pm, because that's the time I'm ready for Emerson to get home. So that's what we did Sunday and Monday, just get out to the stores, and being outside. It was okay as long as I had to be driving and not having to be home with them- after being home all day long with them-.
These thoughts are the ones that sometimes make me feel I'm a terrible mother, but like I said earlier, it dawned on me that I adore them, but I need to be alone sometimes, and if not alone, I cannot be within these four walls every single day. It's not healthy for my mind nor for my train.
I put all these pressures on me, as a mother and as a wife. I think being able to stay home without a car is what I have to do, and in a way it is because we cannot afford a second car right now. But I guess that doesn't mean I cannot get up earlier twice a week to drop Emerson off at work, even if that means waking Libby up at 6:30 am.
On Tuesday we went for a walk around 11 am. Libby was so excited to hear that the printer at the office is working again, because we printed plenty of coloring pages. We came back and had lasagna for lunch. Merritt said she wanted to go for a walk around 2 pm, but that's usually the time I put Libby down for a nap. So what I did was feeding everybody and leave the house to go have frozen yogurt at Menchie's. Libby paid for her own frozen yogurt -she gave the lady the money- and we had a wonderful time there. As we were driving there I began to sing songs about ice cream and just trying to cheer her up to create excitement about it. I told her that was the store I tried to take her to the other day, but it was closed.
She remembered...
She began saying, "Mama, mama...", and making the sign for ice cream. One day (it was a Sunday) we had ice cream at HEB's deli and we had to buy the ice cream inside the store because Menchie's was closed at 11 am. But she remembered she had ice cream with me that Sunday. Remember I was having my feelings hurt because she didn't want to play with me? I took her on a Mommy-Libby date just to hang out more, just the two of us, since some HR people told Emerson that she might be a little bit jealous about Enzo. They said maybe it was her own way to say it, by not wanting to play or read with me. Anyways... she remembered about our date :)
These days I also realized my train wrecks my life over and over and over. Because when I get on it, not only do I die, but my perspective in life, and my relationships suffer. I make a bigger deal out of my child not wanting to play with me.
Like just yesterday (Thursday), Libby was very disrespectful to me. She doesn't know how to express what she wants because she is not talking yet. She can tell me almost all she needs or wants, but when she can't, she gets really angry. She is very whiny lately. We are working on that. So she was screaming to my face, then I put her in the high chair to have buttermilk pancakes that I had made for a special breakfast. When she saw her milk she began yelling for it, even though she had had a glass of milk like ten minutes ago. As I was lifting her up she kick me in the stomach, not on purpose, but she was just kicking away... Today she threw the tooth brush at me because I wanted to help her. Oh, and she did that yesterday, too. What I did was to give her a slap in her hand, told her that what she had done was very disrespectful, and that she was done. I took the toothbrush away, and she cried and complained, and signed she was sorry. I told her I forgave her, but that she wouldn't have the toothbrush back, and then we moved on. We ask God to forgive her, and we pray that God would help her choose to be kind.
So... I've been so sane lately -these days- that when something like that happens I just think, "WTF???", but I don't throw a pity party for myself, you know what I mean? Several weeks ago I made peanut butter cookies and she didn't like them, and I felt awful. Like I was really sad my daughter hadn't liked my cookies. And I haven't cried because of her being disrespectful to me. I'm not making a big deal out of this, I mean, I'm teaching her right from wrong, but I'm not getting depressed when she chooses wrong. That has changed these days that I've been out of the house, having my mind busy and entertained. I feel like that guy in the movie A Beautiful Mind, like ignoring this thoughts like he learned to ignore his imaginary friends, ha ha ha!
So on Tuesday after watching her eat her ice cream and being so happy, so content to be with me, our relationship felt refreshed. That's what we needed. We needed to get out. I needed to get out. Merritt called to say Kori had just woken up and we met them at the park. Libby fell asleep during our walk and after that, she played for a little bit on the playground. We came back home around 4 pm. My day didn't feel like I just needed to be out of the house like Sunday or Monday. I wasn't rushing anybody or anything. I took out a pizza dough, gave Libby a long bath -while Enzo cried his lungs out- and we had dinner.
After dinner I gave Enzo a bath, and he cried again. He was very happy during the bath, but he is crying more now, he just wants to be held or not being left alone. It was still difficult to be on my own, but I enjoyed that day with them so much. I didn't kill time if that makes sense, I didn't want to kill it, I wanted to indulge in that time, and kind of bath myself with their presence. Like trying to absorb all I could possible do with them - if that makes sense at all.
I thought about Emerson dying... that was what my train suggested me. And I thought about it for a while. These days made me realize that if something like that were to happen I'd have two options: surviving or enjoying. And I know I have no idea what I'm talking about. All I'm saying is that time passes. The first two days were so slow, I was just trying to make it till 7 pm. But Tuesday and Wednesday I enjoyed them so much with my children that I have wonderful memories. Time passed anyway on those four days... but I liked the last two days better.
I guess God tried to teach me something. Maybe that's what life is about. I don't know... I get on my train, and that train is real because I am going to die one day, but why would I kill time worrying about it, when I can be building memories and spending the time with my family -quality and quantity time?
It's a sure thing death will come, but when it comes I will have those memories with me instead of the "Oh, I wish I hadn't worried so much..."-regret.
See, I don't think there was a coincidence my best days were Tuesday and Wednesday. Monday night I read my Bible, and I asked God to help me discover my fears. I thought it wasn't enough to say I was afraid. I had to know exactly what I'm afraid of and why, because death is too broad a fear. It is not death per se. It is dying and leaving my children in this world on their own, not having me to be behind them telling what to do or how to have a relationship with God. So I asked Him to give me answers.
Then I looked for verses with anxious or anxiety on them. I found 1 Peter 5:7, "Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you". The verse that comes after that is the one that talks about Satan being like a lion ready to devour us if we are not ready. It made sense to me that I had to give away my fears to God, otherwise my train will always have power over me. Maybe Satan is my train's driver. That son of a bitch...
Then I remember this verse from Seeds, "Cast your cares on the Lord, and He will sustain you. He will never let the righteous fall." ~ Psalms 55:22
Somehow in the course of an hour, I began asking myself questions like the ones my therapist used to ask me, trying to find out what is the underlying fear, and I realized that I am afraid I won't be remembered. If I were to die tomorrow, I am - don't want to say am, but eventually was- afraid my children won't remember me.
Afraid that the countless hours I have spent telling them about Jesus over and over and over will be forgotten. Those words about them being beautiful and smart, and made in God's image. Hours of me telling them God has a purpose for them in this life.
Then I questioned the fact that I won't be remembered. Why wouldn't I be remembered? I discovered I might not be remembered because they are so young... they are very little to remember all about me. Libby might remember our trip to have ice cream but will she remember my essence? My encouraging words? Even the times I had to spank her to teach her to be obedient?
All this comes to mind because I do have memories about my parents. My mom was always cleaning the house and cooking, but never really playing with me, or taking me on walks. I do remember this one time we played over and over that I was a vampire, and I was sucking the blood out of her neck. She and I were laughing so hard. But I don't remember ever being so happy like that day at another time with her. I was about seven. However, I don't have any recollection about my mom when I was Libby's age.
When I tried to find a memory with my dad, it was more difficult, but I do have one. I was surprised actually that I'd found a really good one. There was this team we loved, and one time they won the college football championship. We came home and turned off the lights, and we danced and danced around this lamp that glowed in the dark, it had like like plastic hairs that changed colors. We put the lamp on a chair, and we danced and danced for hours around it, just celebrating they had won. We might have looked like the Israelites and the golden calf. Actually my mom didn't want to celebrate with us, we were crazy in her mind, but we were really happy that night.
Hmm... I remember also waiting to several games to end under awful rain yelling, "Defense! Defense!", and the defense coming through. I have to really think, like really focus trying to remember a good memory from my childhood. But I don't want my children to have to think hard when asked if they had good memories of her mom... And I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be remembered. I asked myself if I would still be afraid if they were fifteen, and I were to die then. At fifteen I will be remembered by them, no question they will have recollection of the time they spent with me. But my answer was that I would still be afraid.
Afraid of not being there to guide them, and to help them choose right. Afraid of not being there to scare the shit out of jerks who will come near Libby, and sluts who will come near Enzo. Afraid of not being there to say what I need to say when they start dating... Then I broke down and said, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" out loud. These are not my children. They are on loan for a season of their lives. One day they will be gone.
I realized I don't have to try hard to be there to guide, and to teach, and to tell them what to do. Truth is one day I'll be gone and they will suffer if I don't teach them to follow The One who can truly guide them always. While I can I have to tell them to follow Him who never misleads.
Then I said, "Fine... What if I die before they get saved? I want to see them in heaven..."
And finally I guess I hit the jackpot with that question because all the underlying issues came to the surface. If God would tell me that once I die, no matter what happens to them or to me or to Emerson, one day we will all be reunited in heaven, I would be okay with that. That's why I don't really stress about Emerson dying.
I will see Emerson in eternity. It freaks me out I won't be able to be as organized as he is with the budget and the financial issues, and that's why I am asking him to give me all the details about money and passwords and whatever, because I just want to mourn him. I don't have to deal with not knowing the where's and how's of our assets. Sure, I will cry every night when I go to bed, but I have hope I will see him again one day. I will see him forever. But I don't have that certainty with my children.
It is not having that certainty what has been consuming me. That's why dying gets the best out of me lately.
"I want to be sure my children will want to follow Jesus with all their hearts, and that they will love their Savior. And if that's not too much to ask, God, I want not only that, but also that they live their lives accordingly I don't want them to be saved by the bell, and not just to have a spot reserved in heaven, but for You to shine in their lives. I don't think that's too much to ask, is it? I mean, you can make them believe in You. Certainly you can do it."
But I guess the answer was, "No, I can't."
Now, bear with me. I'm not saying God is not able of mighty things, but He loves them so much He will never force them to do something they don't want to do. That's the sour sweet beauty of free will. And just as my fear of Emerson cheating on me became silly once I realized what God said about it, this fear of dying showed itself to be stupid.
I'm not afraid of dying. My real fear is not having my children joining me in heaven one day. And there's nothing God can do about it, other than to remain faithful to His promises. And I know the answer to this issue in my life is to focus on those promises. When my insecurity made me fear infidelity, I tried to bargained God into stopping Emerson doing something like that ever. But I remember very clearly God speaking to my heart saying that His promise is not that Emerson won't ever cheat on me.
God said His promise is to provide Emerson with a way out every time a temptation of any kind would come his way. He promises that even though He allows temptations to come our way -He himself doesn't tempt us- He won't ever give Emerson anything beyond what Emerson can bear. Emerson has the power to defeat that temptation, and God gives Him that power, but Emerson's humanity and flesh and blah, blah can play a role into Emerson choosing wrong, even though he knows right. God will always keep His word. I knew that, but I was afraid of Emerson's choice.
I had to focus on God's promise, because the more I focused on the fact that Emerson had a choice, the more afraid and anxious I was getting. And I didn't want to live with that.
God's promise is that He will be patient with my children as He was with me. He waited for me to invite Him into my life for 24 years, and that's a long time for me, but not for God, considering for him three thousand years are like three seconds. He had to see me go through ugly things... It had to break His heart many times, I'm sure, watching me choose wrong over and over. I stole at age five, I got angry at age seven, really angry and proud over a failed test. I was the best in my class, and I failed a stupid test for trying to be the first to finish? I had malice in my heart at age nine playing a prank on someone who had a physical defect. Oh, boy... my children's tantrums are an easy cake, aren't they? More challenging things are coming my way...
"How much more can You love someone to be able to die for them and still giving them the choice of choosing You? You died for them anyways, kind of risking the fact that they may never come to You. But You give that to humans as a very precious gift. A gift a lot of people don't realize they have. And even people who have it waste their time focusing on the wrong things, like You not having control over that free will that they have, which is in essence the very own gift You gave them. I am one of those, aren't I? That's me...", I told God. He didn't have to say Yes.
He was and still is patient with me. He loves my children as much as He loves me. And He loves them much more than I do. He created them, I believe that. What makes me think He won't treat them like He has treated me? I ended up reading 2 Peter 3:9;15, "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. Bear in mind that our Lord's patience means salvation."
That's it. That's the verse I have to focus on. What made me crazy with Emerson was his choice, until I realized there was nothing I could do, but to trust God with providing a way. I cannot focus on my children not choosing God, or me dying before they do, because I do not have control over those things either. And that drives me crazy if I have to be honest. I have to focus on the fact that God wants my children to be saved, he wants everybody to be saved. Now, will they be saved? I don't know... and that has the potential of driving me crazy too if I focus on that.
I have to remind myself of the fact that God's timing is not my timing. Whether I'm alive or dead, God will provide many, many, countless opportunities on my children's lives to help them realize their need for Him, for a Savior. And I have to accept that they might reject that, just as I did for years. And even if I'm alive and they are saved, I will still have to go through watching them choose wrong.
So after realizing all this on Monday night, Tuesday and Wednesday were the best day ever.
On Wednesday, we got to the park again around 10:30 am to walk with Merritt. After our walk, we stayed for a picnic. After the picnic, guess what? We went to Menchie's again. I had my lunch there, and Enzo had a bottle, and we came home at 2 pm, and everybody had a great nap while I took a shower. Then we made a Welcome Back card for Daddy, and we had dinner, and I gave them baths. We left to the airport, and got reunited with Daddy again after 81 hours and 30 minutes of being apart. Nothing felt rushed, I just wanted to be with them, I felt so happy and peaceful.
It was great. I want a car :)
What's kind of a kicker in this death-saved-whatever fear is that I do play a role in here. I can be a positive influence. That doesn't mean I can change the outcome, but right now I have hours at my fingertips to model the love of God for them, to be the mother He wants me to be to them, to create time instead of just killing it. I am planting seeds here and there in their hearts. Emerson and I are watering them.
Oh, God knows, my labor is so painful some days .. ha ha ha!! Because these plants that are growing have a life of their own and just want to go the wrong way by nature!! Then we pull weeds, and keep watering. Emerson and I just water in so many different ways... I guess I'm more, I don't know, I don't know how to describe myself, more nurturing??
One of Emerson's strengths, and I can't believe I am saying this, is his weird sense of humor. Like yesterday we watched The Omen IIII, and if you've never seen that movie, the end is kind of obvious. But it has no context at all... I mean, a lady comes and stabs Satan on his back, and then the antiChrist yells at Jesus, "Come on, Nazarene, face me!!", and then Satan dies, killed by a woman. Just like that. No battle, no all that awful stuff that will happen to Satan and his followers according to Revelation, and I get, it's a movie. Emerson and I looked at each other and I smiled like saying, "Well, it's over, let'g go to sleep".
But he HAD to open his mouth and said, "Well, Jesus, your victory was kinda lame. Oh, spoiler alert!! Jesus wins!!". And that may sound disrespectful if that's all you see my husband doing. But earlier during dinner Libby was misbehaving and crying, and I overheard him telling her, "I am wiping your tears from your eyes right now, but one day Jesus will wipe them away forever."
So, yes, we water them a lot lately. We are gardeners now, we are the Mother Bunny looking for the crocuses in the hidden garden, and by golly, we will find them. You have to read The Runaway Bunny to get that one...
We plant, we water... But only God will make them grow. I will trust Him.
I'm not over this just yet, I think, but it feels nice to feel hopeful nowadays :)
These thoughts are the ones that sometimes make me feel I'm a terrible mother, but like I said earlier, it dawned on me that I adore them, but I need to be alone sometimes, and if not alone, I cannot be within these four walls every single day. It's not healthy for my mind nor for my train.
I put all these pressures on me, as a mother and as a wife. I think being able to stay home without a car is what I have to do, and in a way it is because we cannot afford a second car right now. But I guess that doesn't mean I cannot get up earlier twice a week to drop Emerson off at work, even if that means waking Libby up at 6:30 am.
On Tuesday we went for a walk around 11 am. Libby was so excited to hear that the printer at the office is working again, because we printed plenty of coloring pages. We came back and had lasagna for lunch. Merritt said she wanted to go for a walk around 2 pm, but that's usually the time I put Libby down for a nap. So what I did was feeding everybody and leave the house to go have frozen yogurt at Menchie's. Libby paid for her own frozen yogurt -she gave the lady the money- and we had a wonderful time there. As we were driving there I began to sing songs about ice cream and just trying to cheer her up to create excitement about it. I told her that was the store I tried to take her to the other day, but it was closed.
 |
| Fell asleep in the car before Walmart |
She remembered...
She began saying, "Mama, mama...", and making the sign for ice cream. One day (it was a Sunday) we had ice cream at HEB's deli and we had to buy the ice cream inside the store because Menchie's was closed at 11 am. But she remembered she had ice cream with me that Sunday. Remember I was having my feelings hurt because she didn't want to play with me? I took her on a Mommy-Libby date just to hang out more, just the two of us, since some HR people told Emerson that she might be a little bit jealous about Enzo. They said maybe it was her own way to say it, by not wanting to play or read with me. Anyways... she remembered about our date :)
These days I also realized my train wrecks my life over and over and over. Because when I get on it, not only do I die, but my perspective in life, and my relationships suffer. I make a bigger deal out of my child not wanting to play with me.
Like just yesterday (Thursday), Libby was very disrespectful to me. She doesn't know how to express what she wants because she is not talking yet. She can tell me almost all she needs or wants, but when she can't, she gets really angry. She is very whiny lately. We are working on that. So she was screaming to my face, then I put her in the high chair to have buttermilk pancakes that I had made for a special breakfast. When she saw her milk she began yelling for it, even though she had had a glass of milk like ten minutes ago. As I was lifting her up she kick me in the stomach, not on purpose, but she was just kicking away... Today she threw the tooth brush at me because I wanted to help her. Oh, and she did that yesterday, too. What I did was to give her a slap in her hand, told her that what she had done was very disrespectful, and that she was done. I took the toothbrush away, and she cried and complained, and signed she was sorry. I told her I forgave her, but that she wouldn't have the toothbrush back, and then we moved on. We ask God to forgive her, and we pray that God would help her choose to be kind.
So... I've been so sane lately -these days- that when something like that happens I just think, "WTF???", but I don't throw a pity party for myself, you know what I mean? Several weeks ago I made peanut butter cookies and she didn't like them, and I felt awful. Like I was really sad my daughter hadn't liked my cookies. And I haven't cried because of her being disrespectful to me. I'm not making a big deal out of this, I mean, I'm teaching her right from wrong, but I'm not getting depressed when she chooses wrong. That has changed these days that I've been out of the house, having my mind busy and entertained. I feel like that guy in the movie A Beautiful Mind, like ignoring this thoughts like he learned to ignore his imaginary friends, ha ha ha!
 |
| Menchie's. March 12th, 2013. |
So on Tuesday after watching her eat her ice cream and being so happy, so content to be with me, our relationship felt refreshed. That's what we needed. We needed to get out. I needed to get out. Merritt called to say Kori had just woken up and we met them at the park. Libby fell asleep during our walk and after that, she played for a little bit on the playground. We came back home around 4 pm. My day didn't feel like I just needed to be out of the house like Sunday or Monday. I wasn't rushing anybody or anything. I took out a pizza dough, gave Libby a long bath -while Enzo cried his lungs out- and we had dinner.
After dinner I gave Enzo a bath, and he cried again. He was very happy during the bath, but he is crying more now, he just wants to be held or not being left alone. It was still difficult to be on my own, but I enjoyed that day with them so much. I didn't kill time if that makes sense, I didn't want to kill it, I wanted to indulge in that time, and kind of bath myself with their presence. Like trying to absorb all I could possible do with them - if that makes sense at all.
I thought about Emerson dying... that was what my train suggested me. And I thought about it for a while. These days made me realize that if something like that were to happen I'd have two options: surviving or enjoying. And I know I have no idea what I'm talking about. All I'm saying is that time passes. The first two days were so slow, I was just trying to make it till 7 pm. But Tuesday and Wednesday I enjoyed them so much with my children that I have wonderful memories. Time passed anyway on those four days... but I liked the last two days better.
I guess God tried to teach me something. Maybe that's what life is about. I don't know... I get on my train, and that train is real because I am going to die one day, but why would I kill time worrying about it, when I can be building memories and spending the time with my family -quality and quantity time?
It's a sure thing death will come, but when it comes I will have those memories with me instead of the "Oh, I wish I hadn't worried so much..."-regret.
Enzo's first time rolling over
See, I don't think there was a coincidence my best days were Tuesday and Wednesday. Monday night I read my Bible, and I asked God to help me discover my fears. I thought it wasn't enough to say I was afraid. I had to know exactly what I'm afraid of and why, because death is too broad a fear. It is not death per se. It is dying and leaving my children in this world on their own, not having me to be behind them telling what to do or how to have a relationship with God. So I asked Him to give me answers.
Then I looked for verses with anxious or anxiety on them. I found 1 Peter 5:7, "Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you". The verse that comes after that is the one that talks about Satan being like a lion ready to devour us if we are not ready. It made sense to me that I had to give away my fears to God, otherwise my train will always have power over me. Maybe Satan is my train's driver. That son of a bitch...
Then I remember this verse from Seeds, "Cast your cares on the Lord, and He will sustain you. He will never let the righteous fall." ~ Psalms 55:22
Somehow in the course of an hour, I began asking myself questions like the ones my therapist used to ask me, trying to find out what is the underlying fear, and I realized that I am afraid I won't be remembered. If I were to die tomorrow, I am - don't want to say am, but eventually was- afraid my children won't remember me.
Afraid that the countless hours I have spent telling them about Jesus over and over and over will be forgotten. Those words about them being beautiful and smart, and made in God's image. Hours of me telling them God has a purpose for them in this life.
Then I questioned the fact that I won't be remembered. Why wouldn't I be remembered? I discovered I might not be remembered because they are so young... they are very little to remember all about me. Libby might remember our trip to have ice cream but will she remember my essence? My encouraging words? Even the times I had to spank her to teach her to be obedient?
All this comes to mind because I do have memories about my parents. My mom was always cleaning the house and cooking, but never really playing with me, or taking me on walks. I do remember this one time we played over and over that I was a vampire, and I was sucking the blood out of her neck. She and I were laughing so hard. But I don't remember ever being so happy like that day at another time with her. I was about seven. However, I don't have any recollection about my mom when I was Libby's age.
 |
| Picnic at the park. March 13th, 2013. |
When I tried to find a memory with my dad, it was more difficult, but I do have one. I was surprised actually that I'd found a really good one. There was this team we loved, and one time they won the college football championship. We came home and turned off the lights, and we danced and danced around this lamp that glowed in the dark, it had like like plastic hairs that changed colors. We put the lamp on a chair, and we danced and danced for hours around it, just celebrating they had won. We might have looked like the Israelites and the golden calf. Actually my mom didn't want to celebrate with us, we were crazy in her mind, but we were really happy that night.
Hmm... I remember also waiting to several games to end under awful rain yelling, "Defense! Defense!", and the defense coming through. I have to really think, like really focus trying to remember a good memory from my childhood. But I don't want my children to have to think hard when asked if they had good memories of her mom... And I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be remembered. I asked myself if I would still be afraid if they were fifteen, and I were to die then. At fifteen I will be remembered by them, no question they will have recollection of the time they spent with me. But my answer was that I would still be afraid.
Afraid of not being there to guide them, and to help them choose right. Afraid of not being there to scare the shit out of jerks who will come near Libby, and sluts who will come near Enzo. Afraid of not being there to say what I need to say when they start dating... Then I broke down and said, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" out loud. These are not my children. They are on loan for a season of their lives. One day they will be gone.
I realized I don't have to try hard to be there to guide, and to teach, and to tell them what to do. Truth is one day I'll be gone and they will suffer if I don't teach them to follow The One who can truly guide them always. While I can I have to tell them to follow Him who never misleads.
Then I said, "Fine... What if I die before they get saved? I want to see them in heaven..."
And finally I guess I hit the jackpot with that question because all the underlying issues came to the surface. If God would tell me that once I die, no matter what happens to them or to me or to Emerson, one day we will all be reunited in heaven, I would be okay with that. That's why I don't really stress about Emerson dying.
I will see Emerson in eternity. It freaks me out I won't be able to be as organized as he is with the budget and the financial issues, and that's why I am asking him to give me all the details about money and passwords and whatever, because I just want to mourn him. I don't have to deal with not knowing the where's and how's of our assets. Sure, I will cry every night when I go to bed, but I have hope I will see him again one day. I will see him forever. But I don't have that certainty with my children.
It is not having that certainty what has been consuming me. That's why dying gets the best out of me lately.
Love for oranges
"I want to be sure my children will want to follow Jesus with all their hearts, and that they will love their Savior. And if that's not too much to ask, God, I want not only that, but also that they live their lives accordingly I don't want them to be saved by the bell, and not just to have a spot reserved in heaven, but for You to shine in their lives. I don't think that's too much to ask, is it? I mean, you can make them believe in You. Certainly you can do it."
But I guess the answer was, "No, I can't."
Now, bear with me. I'm not saying God is not able of mighty things, but He loves them so much He will never force them to do something they don't want to do. That's the sour sweet beauty of free will. And just as my fear of Emerson cheating on me became silly once I realized what God said about it, this fear of dying showed itself to be stupid.
I'm not afraid of dying. My real fear is not having my children joining me in heaven one day. And there's nothing God can do about it, other than to remain faithful to His promises. And I know the answer to this issue in my life is to focus on those promises. When my insecurity made me fear infidelity, I tried to bargained God into stopping Emerson doing something like that ever. But I remember very clearly God speaking to my heart saying that His promise is not that Emerson won't ever cheat on me.
God said His promise is to provide Emerson with a way out every time a temptation of any kind would come his way. He promises that even though He allows temptations to come our way -He himself doesn't tempt us- He won't ever give Emerson anything beyond what Emerson can bear. Emerson has the power to defeat that temptation, and God gives Him that power, but Emerson's humanity and flesh and blah, blah can play a role into Emerson choosing wrong, even though he knows right. God will always keep His word. I knew that, but I was afraid of Emerson's choice.
I had to focus on God's promise, because the more I focused on the fact that Emerson had a choice, the more afraid and anxious I was getting. And I didn't want to live with that.
 |
| Menchie's. March 13th, 2013. |
God's promise is that He will be patient with my children as He was with me. He waited for me to invite Him into my life for 24 years, and that's a long time for me, but not for God, considering for him three thousand years are like three seconds. He had to see me go through ugly things... It had to break His heart many times, I'm sure, watching me choose wrong over and over. I stole at age five, I got angry at age seven, really angry and proud over a failed test. I was the best in my class, and I failed a stupid test for trying to be the first to finish? I had malice in my heart at age nine playing a prank on someone who had a physical defect. Oh, boy... my children's tantrums are an easy cake, aren't they? More challenging things are coming my way...
"How much more can You love someone to be able to die for them and still giving them the choice of choosing You? You died for them anyways, kind of risking the fact that they may never come to You. But You give that to humans as a very precious gift. A gift a lot of people don't realize they have. And even people who have it waste their time focusing on the wrong things, like You not having control over that free will that they have, which is in essence the very own gift You gave them. I am one of those, aren't I? That's me...", I told God. He didn't have to say Yes.
He was and still is patient with me. He loves my children as much as He loves me. And He loves them much more than I do. He created them, I believe that. What makes me think He won't treat them like He has treated me? I ended up reading 2 Peter 3:9;15, "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. Bear in mind that our Lord's patience means salvation."
That's it. That's the verse I have to focus on. What made me crazy with Emerson was his choice, until I realized there was nothing I could do, but to trust God with providing a way. I cannot focus on my children not choosing God, or me dying before they do, because I do not have control over those things either. And that drives me crazy if I have to be honest. I have to focus on the fact that God wants my children to be saved, he wants everybody to be saved. Now, will they be saved? I don't know... and that has the potential of driving me crazy too if I focus on that.
I have to remind myself of the fact that God's timing is not my timing. Whether I'm alive or dead, God will provide many, many, countless opportunities on my children's lives to help them realize their need for Him, for a Savior. And I have to accept that they might reject that, just as I did for years. And even if I'm alive and they are saved, I will still have to go through watching them choose wrong.
So after realizing all this on Monday night, Tuesday and Wednesday were the best day ever.
On Wednesday, we got to the park again around 10:30 am to walk with Merritt. After our walk, we stayed for a picnic. After the picnic, guess what? We went to Menchie's again. I had my lunch there, and Enzo had a bottle, and we came home at 2 pm, and everybody had a great nap while I took a shower. Then we made a Welcome Back card for Daddy, and we had dinner, and I gave them baths. We left to the airport, and got reunited with Daddy again after 81 hours and 30 minutes of being apart. Nothing felt rushed, I just wanted to be with them, I felt so happy and peaceful.
It was great. I want a car :)
 |
| Perrito orejón. |
What's kind of a kicker in this death-saved-whatever fear is that I do play a role in here. I can be a positive influence. That doesn't mean I can change the outcome, but right now I have hours at my fingertips to model the love of God for them, to be the mother He wants me to be to them, to create time instead of just killing it. I am planting seeds here and there in their hearts. Emerson and I are watering them.
Oh, God knows, my labor is so painful some days .. ha ha ha!! Because these plants that are growing have a life of their own and just want to go the wrong way by nature!! Then we pull weeds, and keep watering. Emerson and I just water in so many different ways... I guess I'm more, I don't know, I don't know how to describe myself, more nurturing??
One of Emerson's strengths, and I can't believe I am saying this, is his weird sense of humor. Like yesterday we watched The Omen IIII, and if you've never seen that movie, the end is kind of obvious. But it has no context at all... I mean, a lady comes and stabs Satan on his back, and then the antiChrist yells at Jesus, "Come on, Nazarene, face me!!", and then Satan dies, killed by a woman. Just like that. No battle, no all that awful stuff that will happen to Satan and his followers according to Revelation, and I get, it's a movie. Emerson and I looked at each other and I smiled like saying, "Well, it's over, let'g go to sleep".
But he HAD to open his mouth and said, "Well, Jesus, your victory was kinda lame. Oh, spoiler alert!! Jesus wins!!". And that may sound disrespectful if that's all you see my husband doing. But earlier during dinner Libby was misbehaving and crying, and I overheard him telling her, "I am wiping your tears from your eyes right now, but one day Jesus will wipe them away forever."
So, yes, we water them a lot lately. We are gardeners now, we are the Mother Bunny looking for the crocuses in the hidden garden, and by golly, we will find them. You have to read The Runaway Bunny to get that one...
We plant, we water... But only God will make them grow. I will trust Him.
I'm not over this just yet, I think, but it feels nice to feel hopeful nowadays :)
