Thursday, December 31, 2015

New Word for a New Year

Because I love words and gifts, I'm giving you a word-gift: mompromise.

I doubt I'm the first one to come up with this word, but let me describe the specific etymology of my particular usage.

The kids fight.  All the time.  I don't know what to do about it.  I try to be the fair one and intervene but it's not like organized sports where I can assign one a penalty and set them back in motion.  They fight over: who is touching whose toy; whose toy it is; who is touching whom in a way they don't like; who ate the last ____ ; who gets to hold the book during story time; who sits in the front on short trips... and I feel like the Grinch because to myself I'm thinking, "Oh the noise, noise, noise, NOISE!"  They fight over who gets to pick what we watch on TV, and who gets to sing along.  That's right; they fight over who gets to make the rules of the game, so often, the easiest thing for me to do is make a threat to end the game.  I hate to do that, though, because I don't want them apart, I want them to get along.

That's why this morning as I was tidying up, and I heard two kids singing "No more spiders jumping on the bed," I was glad.  They were both enjoying doing something together.  They were also jumping on my bed, which is what put me in a mompromised position.  Should I tell them to stop singing right now, get off my bed, because you two know better, etc., or... just let them get away with the lesser evil?

I chose the latter, because I've become so worn out from their constant friction with each other that some rule-bending was worth it to grease the wheels.  Of course I didn't say this out loud.  I just pretended to not notice they were breaking the rules, though inwardly, I felt torn.

So there you have it, the roots of the word "Mompromise," provenance: Martinson home.  Short definition: Allowing kids to get away with almost anything as long as they aren't fighting with each other.

Will I pay heavily for this?  Perhaps.  Is this the parenting compromise leaving me the most guilt-prone?  Not in the least.


Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Brain reloading

Hello -

I've been very nervously not blogging for months.  It was an issue of time and energy, but also, I think, of fear.  I've been allowing myself to remain in bondage for months, I believe.  On Sunday, our pastor focused his message on the three Wise Men, whose approach and departure were dictated by the malicious whim of Herod.  When you're doing something God wants you to do, pastor was essentially saying, there are going to be Herods.  Then, a missionary from our church talked about spiritual warfare he'd experienced on the field. Could simple things really be counted as spiritual warfare? my husband and I wondered.

We got together for a late Christmas get-together with my husband's brother's family, and I was recounting to a family member about all of the anxieties I'd had last semester.  As the list began to get longer, she suggested that some of that might be the devil.

Boom!  A blessed truth bomb.  I've been thinking of it since.  Yes, yes.  How else to explain the sense of being captive to panic for several months?  I'd wake up to an onslaught of must-do's for the morning, stress about getting organized, worry that my job wasn't secure, fear what was going on at school with either or both kids, fret that my students were not following through with what I'd asked them to do, and, well there were other things, but to top it all off there was the fear of what my kids' teachers were thinking of me.

Today, before I've stepped on one of those evil land-mines of "what-if," I've diffused it with a little truth-bomb of my own.  In my mind, it sounds like, "No, I really don't have to worry about that."  Quite powerful.

Anyway, I figure a revelation is a more interesting thing to share than a history of the past several months, but here are some highlights:

* we figured out that our son does not cope well with Adderol
* our daughter amazed us with her piano performance
* our daughter's teacher met to explain some behavioral concerns about her (and I'm mentally detonating those mines now)
* our son got hooked up with another support team, which I will explain later.

For Christmas, I got a new toy, and since it takes pictures, I think it's going to be easier to load pics to the blog, which will make everything more fun.  I'll try for a selfie here.

Looks like it worked!  Awesome.

Happy New Year if I forget - let's be free together.

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Saturday, November 21, 2015

Your Hands

This week was a recovery from the very fun and busy one before, and from the events of last weekend.

Tuesday night I hosted a Noonday party.  It was small but meaningful.



Wednesday was Veterans' Day, and we made a lot of things happen, including a visit to the zoo.


Friday, Scott and I both had some free time, so we cooked up some Thanksgiving food and took it to an early Thanksgiving event at my brother's house 2 hours away.  I don't have a great family pic of that, but here is one of my mom, my daughter, and my niece.


That day on the way to dinner I saw a few odd Facebook posts of condolences for Paris.  I didn't understand it until we got to the family visit, when my sister-in-law explained it more fully.  Then as the hours wore on, it became more grievously clear.  Echoes of 9/11.

The weekend after 9/11, Scott and I went to a concert, as we'd planned, for a long time.  It was Lifehouse and Jars of Clay at the OK state fair.  Last weekend, we also attended a conert; this time it was JJ Heller.


The first song they performed was "Your Hands."  I realized later it was probably because it was her big radio single, but still, it was appropriate for the moment.  

When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave your hands

It was a good moment.  I don't understand and can't speak to what is going on, but as the world shakes, it is what I remember.

I do feel so much more could be said, but will leave it here as I can always catch up later.



Friday, November 6, 2015

Ebeneezer

I've put off writing for a few weeks, because stuff happened that wasn't pretty.  I was and am not sure what pose to strike.  I'm sorry for wanting to be fake just so my life could seem pretty.  Of course, I want to hit the highlights, but how is it beneficial to only write when all the stars align so my moments appear as grand as my glossy, full-color imagination has wanted them to be?  It's just not.

So, anyways, the last few weeks have featured can't-pretend-they-don't-exist challenges.  Can I just move on now, and feel like I've broken the fourth wall without opening the floodgates of self-pity?  Is it okay for now to just leave it like that?  I'm gonna go with my gut and say it's sufficient.

Last weekend marked our 3rd year of living in our neighborhood.  I love it here this time of year, partly, I think, because it reminds me of when we first came, and had a fresh start.  At the same time, everything is coming up Christmas, which is a can't-miss-big-deal, water-for-my-weary-soul season.



We took some family pics with my cellphone on a timer - we happened to all be outside on this gorgeous day and had extra time, so we snapped, and there we have some memories forever.  So many of these are stored on the hardrive of my computer - I just flipped through a few and another tidal wave of wonder washes over me.  So much life - real, meaningful stuff happens, and we try to capture and share it so we don't miss it.

Real stuff.  So, so much good real stuff has happened these past few years, and there have been challenges; we can share a cup of real, right?  I guess I just want to make sure that's okay.  I guess it's my loss if it's not your cup of tea.  I personally, though, don't want to be held captive to the lie that real life, even good life, is without its challenges, heartbreaks, trials, and puzzles.

My favorite CCM artist Sara Groves released her new album today, and there's a song called "This Cup" that is so fitting to end with.  Go download the album or the single.  It goes:

This cup, this cup
I wanna drink it up
To be right here in the middle of it
Right here, right here
This challenging reality
Is better than fear or fantasy.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

The actual El Guapo

When I thought of the title "Mrs. Martinson's Neighborhood," it seemed like a useful metaphor I could use to map out the different corners of my life - you know: work, kids, projects, etc.  It appealed to me because I am very much connected to circumstances and like to know how I am "situated." Part of my situation is, of course, my actual neighborhood.  Without further ado, then, I'd like to introduce you to my literal neighborhood, the one with driveways, gravel, and mailboxes.

I'm lucky to even have a neighborhood, I think.  These days, few people seem to be on a first-name basis with their neighbors; it's not like the way things used to be when if I needed a cup of sugar, or someone to watch my kids for an hour, I could stand in my house-heels on the next-door welcome mat and just ask.  I wish things were different everywhere, because wouldn't it be a relief to know you were living around people you could trust?

Here are the top four things about my neighborhood.

4. The size and location: there are only 64 houses on five little streets in our rhombus-shaped grid.  The community is gated, so even though it abuts another neighborhood to the North, we feel like our own little thing.  Also, our little neighborhood is adjacent to the community lake, with a private gate to the lake park.

3. The Facebook group: we  have a group just for our residents, so that if anyone sees something strange, or anyone's kid is selling stuff for a fundraiser, the whole block can get the heads up.

2. The parties: Our neighborhood Halloween party is coming up.  We've been twice in the almost three years we've lived here, and it's been lots of food, games, music, and meeting people.  There have also been parties for Christmas, New Year's, and Independence Day.

1. The kids: there are oodles of kids in our neighborhood, and they are so sweet.  We are at the "Can ___ come out and play?" stage of  life now, and it's blast to have all these sweet kids riding around on their bikes and scooters, asking others to join.

It's not perfect, and we are all so busy that we don't know each other, which is sad.  Of all the places I've lived, though, it's the most idyllic, and we enjoy it.

Neighborhood is a happy thing for me.

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Community Calendar

Hello - I am preparing for Christmas.

Today was Pumpkin Patch and first-day-of-pumpkin-pie day.  It was a mercy and a joy to realize I had an outfit that looked like Fall and felt like Summer as it does here in the desert.

I'm discovering these little things here and there in the great romance with my Savior.  It's a dare, isn't it, to make a spiritual connection the most significant thing in your life - and isn't it also worth it because sometimes heaven reaches a finger down and touches the sandy ground?

That outreach -that sistine-chapel-painting kind of infusion of God's work into man's world - that's part of what Christmas is about.  Today I drove down the street to this - it hadn't been raining.  It was just a little touch... that's what i'm talking about.



I can hardly think or type about it without becoming a bit giddy or choked up.  All of it - the nativity, the gingerbread houses, the plastic and raffia bows, the pine needles and wishes for snow - I want all of it.

Last year was my first working full-time while raising kids, and in some sad ways I felt like the whole thing rushed right by like a one-horse open sleigh and I almost never heard the bells.  Christmas Eve I actually got the house clean, the stockings hung by the chimney with care, and the TV glowing with music on the holiday station (oh - soon!), and for a moment, all was calm and bright, and I savored.

I want more of that this year.  I am thinking that this year, I want to invest, not spend.  Less rush, more prepare.

A couple of things I'm thinking about:
- the SRT Advent study.  Contemplating buying the book.
- The Gettys' Christmas Concert in Carnegie Hall.  Wouldn't it be SO GREAT to be part of it?  Maybe next year.
- whose gifts to buy, and whose to make

A question: any suggestions for new Christmas music this year?

Comfort and joy -
- Kim

Friday, September 4, 2015

Birthday Week

37 is the number to remember for the next 365 days.

My birthday was officially yesterday, and it was extra-special.

A new pillow to help me sleep, new office supplies, a silly English-teacher mug, and some books.

Coincidences I don't believe in: that I read a lofty concept chapter of a birthday book, and then heard the same concept from a totally different channel, later in the day, and had an intense experience of such a thing in the middle.

No, I think my divine birthday gift was a revelation: trying to find satisfaction in a substitute will not work, regardless of how much of the substitution you employ.

So I go to sleep tonight an little happier, a little lighter, knowing that I've blessed someone else in listening to the Lord, and though I didn't need it, he used my husband and kids to bless me.


Wednesday, August 19, 2015

We are vintage

I have seen the word "vintage" tossed around quite a bit lately.  It's one of those words like "thrifted" or "upcycling" that puts an upscale polish on reusing an old item.

I've become familiar with these terms through my time spent linking around in Pinterest.  It hardly needs to be said that this Pandora's box can change your life and it's like the best magazine you could ever read because it's full of glossy content tailored to your interests.

I have to admit, though, that I get my feelings hurt when in an ad or a link I see pictured something that was part of my childhood termed "vintage."  In a very limited sense, the My Little Pony toys that I passed on to my daughter (because my mom kept them - thanks, mom), are "vintage."  All the same, they're 30 years old.

Hmm; as I say that, I realize 30 years is a pretty long time.  Still - doesn't vintage stuff need to at least look old?  Shouldn't it be distressed and sepia-toned, and really funny-looking?

I suppose my reaction is partly my fear of becoming obsolete - of needing to be patronizingly pulled from the discard pile and "made over" to fit a new generation's definitions of cool.  There, I guess I needed to say that.

It's also coming from the sense that time has expanded abnormally - that something that happened yesterday can be chronicled in such great detail and word count that there won't be enough room to record history in the books anymore - if indeed in the future books exist as archives and not just artifacts.

Not much in my life has lasted long enough for me to feel I've sustained any meaningful endeavor.  However, I became Mrs. Martinson 15 years ago yesterday, and for the first time, it felt like a really significant accomplishment.  I feel I have made history, even though it is just my own.  It's a good feeling.  

In our history, we have these two kids, these roads we've traveled, these jobs, homes, communities, heartbreaks, recoveries.  All of this is made possible - held together and aloft - by grace.  I have to say, all of those hopes, all of that faith that we had at the beginning, have ripened and matured to something very complex and worth savoring.  Better over time.

So, we are vintage now, and I say that in the most appreciative sense.  We began awhile ago, and have gotten better over time.  Cheers.




Sunday, August 16, 2015

The Greatest is Love

As I have pondered my children's development lately, the things that I have learned have all pointed back to the importance and effectiveness of love in action.  I find myself often considering how withholding interaction or affection may have affected them, and how continued involvement and engagement may heal and prosper them.

People like me need to hear the words of 1 Corinthians 13 often.  We are doers; we are cerebral and somewhat socially inept.  We need to be reminded that all of those good things like prophecy and knowledge will pass away, but love will last forever.  Even biology bears this out; love creates the pathways that make people more and more like the image of God, and that lasts forever.  Love endures. Perhaps this is the kind of knowledge people like me need - that which satisfies the cerebral curiosity but also encourages deep affection.  There are few outlets of this level of thinking about relating.

So now I will get ready for church - get showered and dressed up, and see what we will learn and find today.


Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Take another step

I knew it was going to take some work to get this set up.

I also had the sense that there were going to be setbacks.

Going back to school for both kids is a big deal for anyone.  For me, it was a source of high anxiety because of my son's special needs and aggressive behaviors, and those combined with kindergarten.

The first week was great.  We were still holding our breath, but we were happy.

Then yesterday, it all fell apart, and I sort of did, too.  He acted out, the school called, and we were all trying to figure it out.

What do you do when there are a million things to do, but your son's academic situation is critical, and you can't really help... and you think it will probably be like this for another few days or weeks...

I freaked out, and then finally asked some friends to pray for me today (anyone else feel like their chronic need can be a drain on others, so they back off from mentioning it?).  I think they have, because I feel a bit more steady.

This song was just going through my head - I listened to this album yesterday and drew courage from it, though I was deeply shaken.

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I've put one foot in front of the other today and done what needed doing.  Phone calls, housework, and now I think some more house work, more pending calls, maybe some sewing.  Trying to enjoy a few days at home alone before I go back to work.

What steps are you taking today?  What kind of stuff happens that causes you to walk by faith?

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Under construction

I'm getting my house in order here, and hopefully will be able to share it with you soon!  Knock again in a few days.