My mother would be proud?

I grew up as an only child. Raised in a barn, (built in 1850, converted into cheese factory, then house...kid you not) by 2 great parents. They taught me wonderful things. My Dad taught me how to sit reallll still & feed birds, squirrels & chipmunks out of my hands. He taught me how to hit a nail just right so it felt like it melted into wood. My Mom taught me how to stand up for myself. A lesson that wasn't mastered (well...still trying to master that one) for a few decades. She taught me how to be witty, cook & clean.

Cleaning....the art of housekeeping. She taught me the shortcuts, tips of the trade & reasons to keep a clean house. Saturdays where "cleaning day." Since my Mom & Dad worked full time, Saturday was get-things-done-or-else-day. I didn't mind it too much. I enjoyed tiding up my space. As I grew, I loved cleaning my little world before my friends came over. Even as a teen, if there was some friends meeting at my house, I would spend my time cleaning every thing in sight. I blossomed in a clean house...who doesn't?! Clutter brings hostility, rage & depression. I feel it especially now as I get older. A clean house is a heavenly house.

Fast forward....2009. I am a hostile, rage filled, depressed women. I ain't 10 anymore. I hate cleaning my freak'n house! I only clean when friends threaten to come over. I do still have a faint rush in my veins "oooo, my friend is coming over, I can CLEAN!" Then I start to clean....anddd.... the wonder lust is OVER. I stuff crap in closets, tubs, ovens, cabinets. I spritz Bath & Body Works gag-me-with- apple-blossom-tree-scent to mask the fart smell wafting through my living room. I run around flushing toilets because thanks to a 5th. grade teacher, my sons don't flush toilets. "If it's yellow, let it mellow, If it's brown flush it down" (Thanks Mr. Walker...you obviously don't have kids at home!) Here's a new one kids...."if you shat in the toilet, flush it damn it!" Have you ever experience that first humid not quite hot so you don't turn on the air conditioner day? You walk into your house after a long day of running & smell....outhouse? Yeahhhhhh..... MY house...everyday!

So every spring I try to be like Mom & spring clean.

I take one look at the fan & my allergies start up. Yum, dust. How do I fix it? I flip the switch so it spins the opposite direction & watch the greasy dust balls plummet into my kids 5 hour old cereal bowls still filled w/ mushy cereal bits. Hey, that's what a garbage disposal is for! I don't wipe them down. I just make sure the fans are always on. Can't tell how dirty they are if they are spinning!

Behold the banister. That is just the first layer of dirt I wiped off. I scrapped the rest with a wool pad & a knife. I thought the wood was stained dark black/brown. Yeahhhh no.

I have some glare, but if you look past it you can see the difference of clean/dirty. Can you see it? What...in a child's chemical makeup compels them to draggggg their dirty, greasy hands along the walls? Seriously, can we not invent a drug that makes them stop that habit? I now know why our Victorian ancestors put up chair rails! I would like to market my new invention. Chair Rails encrusted w/ shards of glass. That should do the trick!

Isn't it cute? A fuzzy, wuzzy, dust worm. This little bast#$% appeared 2 days after I dust moped. TWO DAYS! Kill me now please.

Problem....dust covered....no...greasy dust covered fake flowers gracing my kitchen shelf.

Solution....greasy dust covered fake flowers gracing my garbage can.

Please mother forgive me!

The never ending road

Hi, my name is Jennifer & my crises of faith crashed into me in 1996. Thanks for having me...pass the cookies please.

In 1996 I had my first squishy, pink, widdle shnoopy baby. He was sweet & happy. I was bitter & lost. I plunged into post partum depression that didn't lift for 10 months. With the help of a lovely therapist (that I would eventually run into at a Le Leche League meetings & counsel her with breastfeeding) I clawed my way out of darkness & began my new journey down a strange, unfamiliar road.

I battled with Heavenly Father after the birth of my son. Knock down, dragged out fights. I yelled, I cursed, I spit, I stomped. I basically threw a huge adult temper tantrum...at God. Yeah, real mature! I was truly as a "little child." I arched my back, kicking & screaming as Father held me. I screamed "I hate you." Then would beg for forgiveness after the storm was over. (sounds familiar to anyone that has a 3 year old!)

Did I push Faith out the door or did she jump out the window to escape my childish antics? I'm sure a little of both. But one thing was sure...Faith was gone.

So I lived a new normal. I made my own rules. For starters...I would have babies on my own terms, in my own time. That was a huge healer for me. I didn't ask God when I should have them...I just planned them to come when I wanted (& crossed my fingers that my method of birth control/baby panning would work...& it did! I used F.A.M. for 9 years with great success!) The next 3 babies were a pleasure. I avoided PPD & actually loved my post partum experiences! (well the 4th baby gave me a run for my money, but that's a different story for another time) I was even able to enjoy some nice, happy spiritual feelings. Faith peeked her head in now & again. I must admit....most of the time I ignored her. I can hold a grudge for a very longgggg time!

The year is now 2009. 12 years after my crises. I have come out the other end different. I am less paranoid "Gods watchinggggggg". Less superstitious. "If I don't pray, something bad will happen to me." Less holier then thou "well if she only did what the Lord wanted, then she would not have this trial." (yeah, I'm an idiot....but we've ALL pulled that crap!) Less to trust people in authority "If Brother Cool said it, then it MUST be true!" These are all good things. I wish I would have worked these issues out in a different, less painful way, but what is done is done. And in the end, I am grateful.

So what about Faith? Religion? I am on a never ending road. I can't hop off of it. I will go where it leads me. I will take detours. I will do my darnedest to enjoy the freak'n journey! I will explore the scenery, the people, the ideas. & experience. I will never say never (never thought I would end up here!) I will get hurt. I will feel pain. I will be disappointed. I will question. I will have fun. I will feel love. I will love.

I don't have the answers...never had. And for once in my life, that's fine with me! I'm just put'n one foot in front of another. Religion is a crutch for weak people. And I am weak. Not ashamed to admit that some days I would like to beat The Religion with the damn crutch because I am so frustrated with it. I have a love/hate relationship w/ The Religion. But we are like a dysfunctional couple who can't live with, can't live without each other. One day that might change, but for now its all I got.

A scripture I always loved was "Faith is a hope in things that are not seen, which are true."

I will steal part of it for my new mantra FAITH IS A HOPE.