Happy Mirage

"If you're not happy without things, you won't be happy with things." It's amazing that I memorized this part of the Brite music tapes I grew up listening to because it wasn't set to music. The nursery maid says it of the spoiled (and depressed) princess that she serves each day.

It's one of those lines that I understand better with experience. At first it felt like an easy answer which was Mom's way of saying, "I'm not giving you that, but don't complain about it because you choose to be happy." A couple of years ago I read a quote by a famous actor stating that he wished everyone were as rich as he was so they would know that wealth doesn't create happiness. That's a no brainer. I've seen the ruinous lives of the celebrities spread across the magazines whenever I have to buy more dental floss or sunscreen at my local pharmacy.

There are other happiness mirages that have fooled me. There is the body image mirage which promises happiness if some goal of numbers or physical feats can be met. Didn't work. I've been plagued by the notion that if only I were more organized or if I purged more clutter I could build on the summit of happiness. Not a bad idea, but not happiness. For some it is marriage or children. For years, I thought more space was the answer but that was debunked after a month living in 5,000 square feet. More space=more responsibility, more cleaning and less family togetherness. I thought a basement playroom would bring peace, order and happiness to my life. I haven't been able to test that one out, but everyone that I know with a basement says their kids bring toys into the kitchen and want to play near Mom. At our house, we call this "clumping." I'm sure Mrs. Newton would have written about this law of attraction if she'd had the time.

There is still an oasis shimmering in the distance for me. I'll admit that I do think that having a yard with a fence would alleviate 80% of the pressure in my life by allowing me to unleash my younger children at my convenience. I can hear the nursery maid chanting in my ear, "If you're not happy without a yard, you won't be happy with one." Her words empower me. My happiness is my responsibility. Nobody can give it to me and nobody can take it away. I'm not holding my happiness in reserve for a yard. There is plenty to be glad about. I am happy right now.

Is there a mirage in between you and Happy?

How do you choose Happiness?

Bedfellows: ownership & generosity

I'm not ignoring my fighting girls in the next room. I can hear every word they're saying. I'm letting them work it out.

1: "Get off my BED!!!"

3: "Why are you screaming at me? Why is it such a big deal?!"

1 "I have to scream at you because when I ask you to get off, you don't get off unless I scream at you!"

1,2,3: Variety of yelling, screaming and high pitched harumphing.

Maybe I am ignoring them. I'd better see if I can model some problem solving skills for my beloved daughters.

Me: Do we live in a big house or a small house?

1,2,3: A small house.

Me: Do you have lots of private things and spaces or actually just one private space in the whole apartment?

1,2,3: Just one private space

Me: And what is that private space?

1,2,3: My bed

Me: That's right. Your bed is your one private space that is just for you. You do not have to share it. However, because your bed is your one private space it also gives you an opportunity to be generous. You can extend an invitation to a friend or a sibling to sit or play on your bed and that should be recognized as an act of generosity. In this house, you are not expected to agree all the time. You ARE expected to be kind and respectful to each other. If someone says you cannot go on their bed, I will back them up on that.
Below: This is how we fit five kids into one bedroom (crib left of door)


I'm actually happy that I get to share my bed with someone I love, but it does make me wonder, what is my private space? I share a desk, a computer, a dresser, a closet and a cell phone. Honestly, there is usually somebody reading over my shoulder. My only privacy is in my thoughts. Generally, I want to share those as well. Maybe since my thoughts are the only things that are truly mine, sharing them is the only way I can be generous. So like Dogberry of Much Ado About Nothing, I bestow all my tediousness on you. ;)

Glutenny

I've been baking wheat bread for 15 years. Lately, I've been grinding my own hard red winter wheat to make it. Last week I inherited eight boxes of gluten from a sometime vegetarian fleeing the city for less crowded, less competitive and (let's face it) less filthy streets. I am astonished at the difference. I thought I had enough gluten because every batch of bread I make mixes for eight minutes on medium creating this vital ingredient in the process. Gluten composes about 80% of the protein contained in wheat seed. More important to eaters, it gives kneaded dough its elasticity, allows leavening and contributes chewiness to baked products. The above package claims that additional gluten will also increase the shelf life of my home made bread.

Protien
Elasticity
Leavening
Chewiness
Increased shelf life
Yes!

I didn't really think that a few teaspoons of tan powder would make much of a difference with my heavy home ground wheat. I'm happy to be wrong. This bread is everything I want it to be. Thick, soft and chewy, but not too dense. It has a nice crumb, cuts beautifully and is perfect for sandwiches. I can't test the shelf life claim because the family is noshing it into oblivion. Is this cheating?

This sudden jump in bread quality got me thinking about life. I believe in the law of the harvest. I believe in sowing what I reap and small and simple things bringing great things to pass. I'm creating my own little bit of gluten in the process. But sometimes I learn from another's vast experience. Sometimes I can blend their additional knowledge into my life and experience an astonishing jump in personal growth over a short time. It makes me more substantive (protien), flexible (elasticity), confident (leavening) and likable (chewiness). It may not extend my expiration date, but it will definitely increase my quality of life and get me off the shelf more often.

Right now, I'm ingesting 20+ years worth of distilled experience in home and family organizing from Teri Ebert.

Have you had leaps in your progression?

Who inspires you?

Hallelujah! (Potty Training)

"They'll let you know when they're ready." So said my pediatrician and he's been right about the first three kids. I created a lot of relationship tension and wasted a lot of time, treats and cleaning supplies the first time around. That was with a compliant willing child who wanted to please me by potty training. A few weeks after I stopped pressuring my second child with "just checking" trips to the bathroom and potty bribes, she told me that she needed to use the potty. She never used another diaper after that, day or night. I think she just wanted it to be her idea. She's that kind of kid. I didn't even bother with my third child. I just waited until I started finding dry diapers discarded next to the potty and asked if she wanted undies.

Enter Torpedo. He's three and three quarters years old. Once he realized he had control over those bowels, he just shut them off. It gets to the point where all his energy is spent on clenching. It's been traumatic for everyone. I won't detail the times and ways that I've had to "help" him. Suffice it to say that every time we're in the bathroom together he says, "No gloves. No gloves."

Last week, our neighbor's loaned us three potty training DVDs. Torpedo took these movies to heart. He quotes scenes throughout the day: "Is that a potty chair? [buzzer sound] No! That's a bicycle." He is constantly asking me if I'm a big kid and if I want to go to the potty. When I turn the tables on him he tells me that he likes babies. He likes baby toys and he does not want to use the potty or wear underwear. Were these DVDs creating a reverse psychology situation? I've been doing everything I can think of to help him succeed on his own including prayer, setting him on the potty when I see the signs, a high veggie diet and slipping Miralax or mineral oil into his sippy cup. I confess, I even let him play games on my iPhone while he's sitting there. Sometimes these things take awhile.

Well, it's working. Today he put his hands on his stomach and said, "I need to go to the potty." Hallelujah! I sent a grateful little heart-prayer up as I "flew" him to the bathroom. Minutes later he came out and started playing (sans pants) in the living room. I asked him if he "went." He didn't make a big deal about it, but sure enough... Then he asked for some race car undies. Zoom! Zoom!

Stop the abortion mandate

I love the United States of America. Our Constitution affords us incredible protections. Despite the current economic turmoil, our nation enjoys tremendous prosperity. I agree with Ezra Taft Benson that "people who have created their government can give to that government only such powers as they, themselves, have in the first place. Obviously, they cannot give that which they do not possess... What powers properly belong to each and every person in the absence of and prior to the establishment of any organized governmental form?"* Here I concur with Frederic Bastiat, the French classical liberal theorist, politcal economist and member of the French assembly. "Each of us has a natural right--from God--to defend his person, his liberty, and his property."** Ergo, I'm not a fan of government thumbs in everyone's pies.

I have flared up in fury over each new bailout. However, the Obamacare plan takes the cake. It positions ambiguous language to be interpreted to include abortion in its full range of reproductive benefits. I'll admit that I want nothing to do with a national healthcare plan, but at the very least I don't want to be forced into underwriting the abortion industry. I've urged my Representatives and Senators not to accept any reform, proposal or bill that does not clearly exclude abortion from the benefits.

I always give myself a little test when it comes to proposed tax spending. I ask myself if that group, cause, project, etc. came to my front door asking for money would I give it to them? I definitely wouldn't have given GM a dime. They've been a mess for decades. If a woman came to my door asking for money for an abortion would I give it to her? There are lots of things I would offer this woman including compassion, concern, my love, my testimony, suggestions of alternative solutions to her larger life concerns, access to thousands of post-abortive women trying to heal emotionally from their abortion experiences witnessing that it is not an 'easy out', pictures and stories of my adopted nieces and nephew, but I wouldn't give her any money. If you don't want your taxes underwriting the abortion industry visit StopTheAbortionMandate.com to learn more about this issue and how you can help.

Mother Theresa:
"America needs no words from me to see how your decision in Roe v. Wade has deformed a great nation. The so-called right to abortion has pitted mothers against their children and women against men. It has sown violence and discord at the heart of the most intimate human relationships. It has aggravated the derogation of the father's role in an increasingly fatherless society. It has portrayed the greatest of gifts -- a child -- as a competitor, an intrusion, and an inconvenience. It has nominally accorded mothers unfettered dominion over the independent lives of their physically dependent sons and daughters"
And, in granting this unconscionable power, it has exposed many women to unjust and selfish demands from their husbands or other sexual partners. Human rights are not a privilege conferred by government. They are every human being's entitlement by virtue of his humanity. The right to life does not depend, and must not be declared to be contingent, on the pleasure of anyone else, not even a parent or a sovereign." (Mother Theresa -- "Notable and Quotable," Wall Street Journal, 2/25/94, p. A14)

*(The Proper Role & Improper Role of Government by Ezra Taft Benson & Elder H. Verlan Anderson)
**(The Law, p. 6)

Validation

You, my blog friends, have completely validated me. My sister, Plainbellied, posted this on her blog a couple of months ago. It's worth sharing and gives an indication of how much your comments have encouraged me this week. Thank you! YOU are awesome!

Inspection

For the past several evenings I've played witches and evil queens who come to inspect the children's after dinner chores. The silverware must be dry and orderly in the drawer. The tables and counters cleaned smooth from dried food or glue and so on. My children are inspired by the impending inspection, anxious to see my costume and curious how I will behave in my new character. We finish clean-up more quickly than usual, notwithstanding the time it takes to dress up and inspect each chore. Afterwards, they rush to get ready for bed in time for the "reading fairy" who will simply pass by to the next house without giving them a bedtime story if they don't have their jammies on and teeth brushed. It's another costume, another voice, another attitude. As is often the case with people, slow is fast and they are actually getting to sleep earlier.

I know it sounds like silliness, what else could it be? We got the idea from Betty Macdonald's famous Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. I've learned a couple of things though. The first is that my children want their work to be inspected. They like to know they will receive legitimate praise for a job well done. They also appreciate the refreshing, playful element of surprise. I've learned that I don't like being the bad guy. I've heard actor's say that playing villains is the most interesting. I don't like playing the disappointed witch or selfish queen. Tonight I was the almost-Empress inspecting all the preparations for the upcoming wedding party. My seven year old dried the dishes happily once I explained she was really shining the gold and silver for my royal banquet. They especially loved the kowtows and "My deepest regards to the carpet lady." It was much more fun looking for things to praise lavishly. Later, as the genie-of-work-and-reading, I read aloud while they took turns sorting laundry. Nobody had to work for more than 3 minutes at a time and I got to wear another fabulous costume. ;)

I don't have the energy or inclination to do this every night. But it's delightful to sprinkle it throughout the week. In between, I'm learning to inspect their work and follow-up with judgement. I let them know if improvement is required, but usually I can just praise their thorough work and cheerful attitudes. I have to write about this now while it's still fresh and working. Who knows what next week will bring in the adventures of parenting?