lajendi

October brings strange bedfellows

Adriaan Vlok

Does the name mean anything to you? I'm horrible at names anyway, but I didn't recognize it. I learned this name on a Smithsonian channel program. It was 10 people whose lives were transformed by the example of Nelson Mandela.

Adriaan Vlok held a high position in the Apartheid government of South Africa. He was in charge of police forces and instigated violence, many blacks were killed under his command. As Apartheid ended his position in government lowered. During this same time, 1994, his wife committed suicide. At one point he was offered amnesty through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission - they just wanted the truth to come out and the bodies of their loved ones returned home. Vlok was the only member of the elite government to come forward and offer what he knew.

Not only did he come forward, but he apologized. He humbly bowed before the feet of the mothers of those who had been killed and asked if he could wash their feet. It is said that they all cried as forgiveness started. What a moving story of a changed life, of a changed country.

That's what the TV program said. Then I started looking online. It's a regular Middle East happening all over again in South Africa. Tit*for Tat. They're saying - He didn't admit to everything and I caught him in a half truth and he's washing feet just to get attention. Now I don't pretend to completely understand their complicated situation then or now. The book Cry the Beloved Country made my heart ache for both sides. And I don't mean to be trite when I say this, but at some point you just have to move on.

Once I had a 'heated discussion' with a woman who claimed Martin Luther King Jr. was a good for nothin' adulterer who this world would have been better without. I tried to point out that he pushed our country in a direction it needed to go in, despite his mortal flaws. But she refused to listen.

No one on this earth is a saint. But at least some people are trying while others are busy looking for everything that's wrong.

*Being a person who has made mistakes and then gone on to ask forgiveness, I'll be the first to admit it's not pleasant to go back and in detail re-tell the sin. I would avoid it if I could, especially in public forums. I don't see much healing in it for anyone else either. Once it has been admitted to initially and forgiveness has been asked for, then leave it in the past and let the healing begin. Don't torture yourself (the sinner or the sinned against) with continuing to re-live the event. I believe this applies in the micro and the macro.  

Me, listen to Me

When I say things to others, I think I mean to say them to myself.

This was the situation at my house this morning: J. spilled his cereal. Thankfully it didn't have milk in it yet. As I rushed over to help him clean it up he started crying. I said, "There's no need to cry, we'll just clean it up together. Don't cry." I just kept telling him not to cry.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

I think I was talking myself into it as well.

Good thing he gave me a hug.

Historical perspective

We all have weird things we think about that we don't share with anyone. Our own personal psychosis that keep the world spinning. Want to know one of mine?

When I am living my average day and begin to complain in my head about how tired I am, about how I don't want to make another meal, about weeding the garden, about getting the kids to school exactly on time (can't be early or the doors aren't open, don't be late or you'll get a tardy; too many of those results in brimstone, hellfire, and a threatening letter), then I relate to myself the hardships of my ancestors, as well as I can invent anyway. Along the lines of , "Eat your veggies, kids are dying in Africa!" but the historical mommy version instead. It goes something like this:

'How can there be this much laundry? If my children didn't have so many clothes I wouldn't have so much to wash....

'Back in the olden days people only had two sets of clothes, one for wearing and one for washing. They didn't have choices...

'Not to mention washing clothes by hand... how does a washboard get anything clean anyway? I should be glad that I don't have to hang clothes on the line to dry. With my luck my kids would pull them off and run them through the dirt...

Did women back then have carpal tunnel? There's no way I could do laundry by hand with carpal tunnel...My family would be the dirty ones in town, like Pigpen from Charlie Brown...'

 

 

So now you know, as I'm sorting darks from lights and stuffing them in my environmentally friendly washing machine, these are the thoughts roaming through my head. As I pour in the biodegradeable soap and push the start button I think to myself how my ancestors must be smiling down on me, so happy that their great, great, great-grandaughter doesn't have to use a washboard. Yep, I'm sure that's what heaven's all about.

As I get older I honestly wonder how people even survived in the 'olden days'. My body just can't do as much as it used to and I wonder how people kept themselves alive, not to mention gaggles of children. And I'm not just talking about in the US of A in the 18th or 19th century. What in the world did my ancestors do to stay alive during long winters in Switzerland. Honestly, how was anything in the Northern regions habitable?

 

All these crazy thoughts, based on the vast knowledge gleaned from National Geographic reading (as a child we had a subscription and now I read it whenever the waiting room has a new copy), are intended to convince me that I have it easy and in fact can survive another day.

 

But then I read something in my Anthropology textbook that blows my mind game to smithereens (frankly, it makes me jealous)-

People in the most simple economies (hunter, gatherer, simple horticulturist) work less than those in commercial economies (using money, like ours). Honestly and truly- we work MORE than our ancestors did. There is a simple economy in Brazil (Kuikuru tribe) where they only work 3 1/2 hours a day to keep themselves alive. I just drool thinking about the spare time I'd have. But then again it doesn't factor in childcare... but it does make my point. What the heck am I working so hard for?

The textbook goes on to say, "In commerical economies such as our own.. people seem to be motivated to keep any extra income for themselves and their families. Extra income is converted into bigger dwellings, more expensive furnishings and food, and other elements of a 'higher' standard of living."

 

Thinking back to my month-long vacation, we lived out of just a few suitcases. Now I look around myself and see the mass of STUFF and realize that I, and DH, spend the majority of our time taking care of, and earning, STUFF!

The axom, 'People are more important than things' has always been a solid for me, a no-brainer. But looking at my life and this society I wonder if it's all lip service. Time to clean out the closets and toyboxes, get rid of the flotsam and jetsom and donate it to those less fortunate...

...just as soon as I watch the new Project Runway episode.

 

Everybody, but not their dog, at the shore

We packed up with friends bright and early yesterday morning to get to the shore in our non-air conditioned van before the heat would bake us. It wasn't very crowded when we got there but they quickly made their way. If dogs weren't outlawed on the beach, it would have been us with everybody and their dog. It detracts only a little from the experience, you just have to get into that East coast mentality of being packed like sardines while pretending you're the only one that exists. The umbrellas  are pretty though. 

 

 

The theme of the day was sand. Baby was covered in it, head to foot all day (look at the picture up close). I did clean her off sporadically but it was ridiculous to even try. A. was so sand drenched that there is a pile of it embedded between her outer swimsuit fabric and the lining.

 

Ready for her close up. That's called the cheesey face, she makes it when Mom pulls out the camera. This time it really is cheesey because she had Cheetos.

 

Whenever the kids could pull me away they would beg me to attend them so they could play in the deeper surf. My kiddos have never been really into swimming so yesterday when they wanted to get into it, it made me happy. Besides, since I was out there anyway I had a little fun myself (perks of motherhood). The glaring exception in this was my youngest and the oldest. R was upset about something, most likely that a friend didn't call, so she refused to get in the water (no, it wasn't the common female problem). Baby also didn't want to touch the water, the surf scared her. Advantage Mommy though, because I just picked up her little body and went out. Can't do that with R, she's taller than me. They did all have fun playing in the sand. Success!

 

J. and his friend Ja. found a big hole that someone dug and then abandoned. It was the greatest thing of the day (even though I spent $20 on amusement rides).

 

 

This type of sand castle is R.'s specialty. You dribble wet sand and it forms peaks, then she carves tunnels into it. Baby was so intrigued that she watched long enough to figure out how to make them too.

We arrived home at 11:30pm. It was a 16 hour day, full to the brim with fun.

The Study of Behavior

Even though I'm on vacation I have been studying for a final exam. The course is Writing for the Social Sciences, and as part of the course I wrote a research paper about adolescent psychology. Tomorrow, when I take the final (on vacation) I will be required to write a memo reflecting on my research paper.

Honestly since writing that paper I have become more cynical about psychology's ability to help teenagers. Don't get me wrong, I'm not throwing out the whole profession or even the theories. It's just that I see the holes more clearly now.

When I spoke to the Adolescent Psychologist on my jury about her profession she nearly told me to run the other way.  She said that counseling troubled teenagers is a fruitless endeavor- that most of their issues come from the messed up families they live in. When I asked about the usefulness of family therapy she said that the parents blame the dysfunction on the teens so nothing ever changes, even in that setting. Great view of the world isn't it?

So that left me thinking about sociology. Could changes be effected in society that would make for stronger families, and thus individuals?

In the end that thought is all backwards. It isn't society that makes families strong - it is strong families that make a strong society. (Although strong families do need the structure of a good government to succeed.) That led me back to a well-used quote from Elder Packer, "True doctrine, understood, changes attitudes and behavior. The study of the doctrines of the gospel will improve behavior quicker than a study of behavior will improve behavior."

So here I am, an LDS woman, becoming a psychologist. How do these ideas gel? If I truly believe this quote then my time and energies would be best focused on teaching the gospel. Yet, in our little struggling branch I feel overwhelmed and unsuccessful at helping people change their lives.

To me, some concepts of the gospel are hidden within psychological theories (naysayers would say the opposite is true). So in being a psychologist you are, in a way, sharing true doctrines; which then, if understood by the client, changes their behavior (if it brings forth good fruit...). Can we then admit to a connection between psychology and church work? I know, reaching too far probably, but I'm just trying to figure out how to get a paycheck while helping people. The limitations of this world are just holding me back ;)

BTW- that talk by Elder Packer is a great one. I didn't set out to read it tonight but it lifted my spirits and gave a little enlightenment.

Thick-headed?

Someone recently told me that I think too much. She said in a caring way that I should spend more time enjoying life and less time thinking about it. After my jury experience yesterday and a "discussion" with DH this morning I'm wondering if I should stop thinking all together. My over-thinking could be getting the in the way of a huge part of what I'm actually thinking about, communication.

Being one of the two hold-outs on a jury of 12 has made me question my ability to communicate and understand the outside world. How could 10 intelligent, capable human beings come up with a completely different answer to the trial than me? Did I sleep through something? Did I allow my emotions to be manipulated? Or was I blind to something that was completely obvious to everyone else? There was that one other juror, but she got out of there quickly, so I didn't get a chance to talk to her about our decisions.  

This morning DH and I are discussing and preparing for our imminent departure for vacation. I will be gone for a long time, a whole month. I've never been away from home for a whole month but DH has experience because his family traveled alot. We talked suitcases, how many, what type, how much it costs to buy them and how much it costs to take them on the flight. So much to consider and a lot of different possibilities: carry-ons or large suitcases, 1, 2, or 3? Then baby's carseat, take it on the flight or check it? He has been on call for work all week and I've been on jury duty. It's tiring and frustrating for both of us. So waking up first thing on our day off and discussing such 'fun' things probably isn't productive.

But here I am, thinking. Thinking. THINKING. So much to be done, write a list, make a plan, but how do I do the best in every situation? Not possible, I know. But still, a girl's got to try!

While I consider all the options I miss out on actually acting. Spinning myself in circles. It might be a subconscious way to avoid responsibility for the ultimate decision. I don't want to be wrong, so I over-contemplate until I've beaten the mental issue to death. This might be necessary on a death penalty case for jury deliberation. But definately not necessary when deciding what suitcase to buy. So my fellow decision makers, DH, jury members, etc., get frustrated with my mental circles. And I can't blame them.

If your family picks strawberries...

If your family picks stawberries,

you'll eat a ton.

When you eat a ton of strawberries and there are still so many left

you'll make stawberry freezer jam.

When you mash up the strawberries for freezer jam you realize,

you'll need pectin to go with it.

When you go to buy pectin and come back home to finish the jam

you'll need a stool to keep standing at that late hour.

When you're finally done with the jam

you'll realize it really should be spread on homemade rolls.

When you think about making homemade rolls

you'll need to go to bed because that's crazy.

When you wake up the next morning,

you'll remember that you want to make homemade rolls.

When you make rolls your feet remind you that they worked too hard the day before so,

you'll need that stool again.

When you sit on the stool making rolls with 2 little helpers,

you'll wish your rolls were normally shaped.

When you sit down to eat your abnormally shaped rolls,

you'll realize it's dinner time.

When you elict the help of oldest daughter to make dinner,

you'll get a really crazy kitchen.

When dinner, rolls, and jam are made,

THEN you'll sit down to eat.

YUM!

(By the way, if this makes no sense to you, grab a kid and read If You Gave a Mouse A Cookie.)

Misc

Weeds are OK in your lawn! Although I did give in to DH's desire to assimilate into suburbia by having the front lawn treated. I apologize for my hypocrisy.

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Checking on Nie Nie now and then amazes me.

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Another political news story worthy of a rant. Obama makes an ethics law, involving the elimination of conflict of interest at government agencies. Then he appoints a man to head NASA that requires a waiver, because of a conflict of interest. So the law is good only when it doesn't get in your way, I guess.

Oh, then there is the whole issue of Bill Nelson, a democratic senator from Florida, threatening to throw a tantrum if the president didn't pick his friend for the NASA position while actively campaigning against other candidates.

This article doesn't mention the conflict of interest at all, gotta love the media.

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There has been another doctor appointment. I met with a new neurologist (actually a physician's assistant) on Saturday. Leaving the appt DH and I agreed it was a huge improvement over my last neuro.  He was not extreme, not postulating on an overall diagnosis at the first appt like alot of drs have tried. Several things came of this appointment. 

The diagnosis I received many years ago (16) of TMJstill holds true. When the neuro held my hands on my tempromandibular joint and I felt the major movement, that he said is not supposed to exist, I realized there was a problem. When I received my TMJ diagnosis way back when, I was told it would be over a thousand dollars to treat it and we were poor college students. I actually cried when I left that dentists office, knowing that I would just have to suffer the pain for a very long time. When DH's uncle, a dentist, adjusted my bite and took out my wisdom teeth it helped so much (Thanks!). But now more is known about the condition, more treatments are available, and I now know that normal jaws shouldn't move like that.  The neuro said this won't solve everything but could very likely help. He encouraged me to get a professionally made mouthpiece to wear at night, I hope our dental insurance will cover it. 

This was interesting to read, though I won't count on a whole body healing for me(from here): "There is no doubt that TMJ dysfunction can have far-reaching effects, even to the point of involving peripheral circulation and paresthesias. S. D. Smith reported a case where major improvement in leg circulation directly corresponded to balancing a left TMJ compression through jaw repositioning."

The other interesting thing to come out of the neuro appt. is that I had been taking two drugs that make me stupid! So I have an excuse :)  Seriously, both of the drugs I had been taking have the side effect of "Memory loss, problems concentrating, or slow thinking" (see, I told you = stupid).  The PA explained that the medications were both at low doses so I was getting minimal benefit with maximum side effects. So I'm not taking the least effective of those two medications now. Just for any of you out there on meds, FYI the drugs in question are Lyrica and Topamax. For help with another troublesome side effect he counseled that Miralax is a great laxative if you need it on a daily basis to counteract drug side effects. TMI? Just trying to be helpful.

Upcoming- EMG on my hands to check for nerve damage. And, one day I will have a positive attitude about Rheumatologists again, and make an appointment with a third. My PCP is encouraging this, obviously I'm discouraged.

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BOOKS!

There is much going on in the world of books, probably because I aren't stoopid anymor. My reading had slowed to a crawl, it was just too difficult. It took me almost a month to finish Run by Ann Patchett.

It wasn't as enjoyable as Bel Canto, her first book, but it is worth reading. I wish she had spent just a little more time polishing it, especially the first half , it drags and the characters aren't solid. I really like the concept she plays with, that the chronology of events in our lives is complicated and cannot be undone. If you took away one bad action from your past, would it negatively effect the long term positive result of your life?

For years I've heard about The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. I read it in four days (see, no more dumb). 

This book seemed like two books smashed into one. It was a book about grief, about the things this woman thought, but never said out loud - the mind knots we tie ourselves into just to cope. That book, that I appreciated. And I celebrate her ability to write such raw honesty with the bravery to publish it. I can only imagine, as one who has in comparison suffered minor griefs, that her words bring comfort to many who suffer the same. There before the grace of God go I.

The other book within this book, I could do without. It was the elitist, self-circulating, snobbery that made me want to ask the author, so what? She name dropped like it was a Jeopardy round. And the casual mention of dropping tens of thousands on a house down payment made want to tell her to keep her finances to herself. All the trips, the wealth, 5 star hotel stays, the servants doing everything, inserting the names of her and her husband's books frequently into the text, all of it I could have done without and the remaining themes would have soared. The author had a great concern for not developing self-pity, maybe if her life weren't all about her it wouldn't be such an issue. The success of this book probably has only exacerbated her condition by telling her that her grief is worthy of worldwide attention, while millions of others suffer their grief in silence and poverty.  

Perhaps I'm still just the dumb youth, who hasn't experienced wealth or grief enough to understand Ms. Didion's whole point. Perhaps she meant it all to go together so as to echo her husband's thoughts about his life. He felt they were no longer having fun, that he had accomplished nothing; yet they both were well published writers and very wealthy. After his death she found a note in a computer file- "The concept of service." (p. 186) Yet, she never returns to the concept. (Am I too easily dismissing her service by way of writing this book?)

If you check a book out from the library too many times are you considered a stalker?After trying to be frugal, by checking it out again and again, I broke down and bought my own copy of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.

Now I'm reading The Roald Dahl Omnibus, a collection of short stories.

Anybody read it before? R wants to read it too so I'm wondering if hidden in those thick pages there is a "R" rating? But if I let her read with me I'll just have to pry it from her hands when I want it. Let's make her wait. She loved BFG that he also wrote.

 

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For anyone who is great enough to keep reading through this bloated post, thank you. You must be the kind of wonderful soul who would do something nice for humanity. How about participating in the Cancer society's research, CPS-3?

Mother's Day Poem and Bracelet - Help!

I need your help! Tomorrow, I will help the little ones at church make a gift for their moms. They will be making bracelets like this:

I have written a little saying, I won't call it a poem, to go with the bracelet. But it is rough and I would love your help to refine it. Give me your revisions or if you have a whole better version let me know. Here's what I have so far, so you know what I'm going for here. I want to convey love and acceptance, even to those families who don't have two parents, or are in other ways different.

Our family is like this bracelet,

Each person is a bead,

Unique and precious-

Tied together with love

and the eternal bonds of the gospel.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Of course I need this ASAP! :)

BTW - Don't punch my craft in the face. Punch this instead, I found it when I went through the basement looking for my bead stash!!

 

It makes me laugh, the glass is broken - ah, my broken heart! And the TP has begun to yellow so it looks like someone used it :) It is a perfect white elephant gift!