It’s Christmas so I went to church. It’s been a few months since I have been, mainly because Sunday mornings are one of the only times I have to work on the house without the kids. Now that it’s too cold to go out I decided to go back for a bit. I’m glad I went, although I usually am.
I have really been struggling lately with the frustration I have for other people. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m an just prone to this frustration or if the heavy political atmosphere this year has led to it, probably it’s a bit of both. Either way I am finding it very hard to love other people who don’t see the world the way that I do. I especially get frustrated with business owners who put the bottom line of the business above the love of their employees and clients. I tend to cut people off instead of loving them through what I view as a major flaw.
Thanks to the sermon today I had an epiphany that I’m afraid. I am afraid to love people I don’t agree with. I am also afraid to tell the people I love that I disagree with them. Hate is so much easier than love. It’s so easy to say “I don’t agree with you so I’m done doing business with you”. Now don’t get me wrong, I think when you are talking about big business it’s the only way to get your point across and fully promote boycotting a business. I am talking about small business. Business in the community where you know the owner. That’s what I’m talking about.
I surround myself with people who are like me and push away those who are not. Instead what I should be doing is loving them anyway. People who love and respect you are more likely to listen to you, even if they don’t agree, than people you just preach to. So instead of pushing people away I am going to try and have my “Time filled with loving actions”, even if those loving actions involve me saying “I love you but I don’t agree with xyz” and treating people the way I want to be treated, or how I expect people should be treated. The best I can be is an example.
I do have to say that I am a very unusual person. I would say I’m probably a little like an extroverted Sheldon. I don’t really understand things that don’t have a practical purpose.
Take Christmas for example: I get Christmas, kind of. Of course I get the religious aspect of celebrating Christ’s birth on an arbitrary day chosen around a pagan holiday already celebrated. I get the good will towards people, be around people you love, stuff. I think it’s important all year round but it’s nice that it’s focused during a time when people aren’t getting as much sun and depression is rampant. I should look into if this actually has something to do with the need to feel better during a time of cold and shortened days….
The thing that gets me is the consumerism. We get the kids and each other gifts but I don’t understand getting tons of stuff. I like to get the kids 2-4 practical gifts that they can use right away. Something they can enjoy for a while but nothing excessive we wouldn’t have been bought at some other time during the year.
Which brings me to this: When family asks us what we want for Christmas I have a very hard time thinking of anything. We have no room for anything more in this house and we don’t need anything, except stuff for the new house. I tell people completely practical stuff to get because I don’t understand the need for anything else. As a joke I told my dad we needed a septic tank for the new house (because I am really only asking for memberships to places and stuff to build the house). His response was “only if I can tell my friends I bought my daughter a box of poop.” And that “they hold no responsibility or liability for the usage or contents thereof” to which my response was “not unless you take us to dinner first”. It looks like we have a septic tank coming. I couldn’t be happier.
It has now been almost 2 weeks since I have worked on the house. We were out of town, sick, then it was too cold, raining, and yesterday morning at 1:30am I woke to my first ever full body allergic reaction.
I woke up and felt like I was going to be sick. I went in the bathroom an sat on the toilet waiting for something to come out of me in some way to make me feel better. Within seconds my hands started to itch real bad followed by my entire body. I proceeded to text C “don’t be alarmed but I’m having an allergic reaction. If it get worse I am calling J & S”. About 2 minutes later my tongue and throat start to swell. At which point I call J & S who we are renting from and tell them what is going on. They come up to the house with Benadryl, and have called an ambulance. J drives me to the end of the driveway to meet the ambulance while S stays with the kids. While we were waiting for the ambulance I start to swell so badly that my it hurts to the point of tears to swallow. The ambulance gets there and puts me in the back. We discuss what is going on and they ask if I want to go with them. I tell them yes (because in afraid my throat will swell shut on the 30 minute drive to the hospital). Then I think about it and say “wait, is it silly to go with you? Am I overreacting?” They medic responds “ma’am, you are having a pretty serious allergic reaction. You should probably come with us”. It made me feel better. I often feel like I am overreacting about medical stuff.
I get a shot of epinephrine, Benadryl, and at the hospital they give me a giant dose of steroids.
We have no clue what caused it. I haven’t had anything unusual. After the holidays I am making an appointment to see an allergist. I also have Benadryl and an epi pen I have to carry with me. I feel like a ticking time bomb. This is fun (can you sense the sarcasm?).
Here we are again… The winter. We have reached temperatures of below freezing an once again must utilize the wood burnin stove.
I am afraid to jinx it, but it seems as though this year is not as hard to start and keep a fire going as it was last year. I have so far only had one cursing fit at it and it has been almost two weeks. Hopefully this year will not be as tough as last year. It will hopefully be the last year we have to use it too.
I’ve been having a pretty rough time these past few days. Winter is upon us, meaning so is cold and sickness. Either C or I have been sick since being home from the funeral. It’s freezing cold. This morning it snowed. I don’t feel like doing anything. Not being productive, not being out to the house in over a week, has given me the blues.
Last night C took the kids to bed early (because he wasn’t feeling well) and I had the downstairs to myself from about 5pm-whenever I wanted to go to bed, which ended up being about 10. I finally got around to putting the laundry away, washing the dishes, and cleaning the living room (which had become covered in a thin layer of children’s toys). I do have to say that I feel better. I don’t feel so on edge. I also made the decision that if it was going to be above freezing and not raining or snowing that I was going to be out working on the house. Today will not be that day because it’s not supposed to get above 32. Tomorrow and the rest of the week should be fine though. Hopefully I can get at least 1-2 done each day. I really do not want to spend another winter here.
We got back in late last night. While we were gone my allergies starting acting up. I couldn’t stop sneezing and I had fluid buildup in my ears. I was miserable… Until today… When I woke up with the crud that has been going around. C took care of the kids most of the day and fixed an amazing dinner (that ended up being more than enough for tonight and tomorrow night). I have spent most of the day sleeping or listening to a book. I hate days like this. I feel so unproductive. At least it was raining all day so I couldn’t have worked on the house even if I was feeling well. Hopefully tomorrow I won’t feel like death.
It’s the third day of the month and I already missed the second day of writing. One day I would like to actually fully go through something.
But I have a good excuse. C’s grandmother passed yesterday morning. The kids and I drove down to be with his family yesterday while C was at work and he drove down today with the dogs.
We will be here until Monday afternoon.
I feel like a slacker because I haven’t been keeping up with my blog ever since we started working on the tires. Don’t worry, it’s not that I am bored with you, it’s that I’m afraid of boring you! I did want to get back into the swing of being more deliberate with my writing though, so I joined a December writing club. The goal is to write everyday to get back into the habit.
So on to day 1:
One of the things I have discovered with being out working on the house 3-4 hours a day is that I think. A lot. About very strange things. With the election I thought a lot about how to improve the country, but now that the election is over my thoughts have been all over the place.
(This is typically where I do most of my thinking)
Today i thought about parts of my childhood. Now before you go worrying that I’m going to talk about daddy issues or family trauma, just keep reading.
Over thanksgiving C finally joined in to a game of Cards Against Humanity and decided he may just liked playing games again, but no promises. The next day he sees that they have come out with a card game version of the Oregon trail, so he orders it. Fast forward to today when it arrives just as I am leaving to work on the house.
I, as most children of the 80’s did, loved the Oregon trail, however it was not a game my mom was willing to purchase for the house computer. Number munchers, where in the world is Carmen sandiego, those were ok. Not the Oregon trail. I had to wait for the rare occasion when we would have free time in computer lab, which rarily happened. So alas I did not get the full Oregon trail experience, but I am still really excited to play the game.
This train of thought got me thinking about computer lab. The class where we learned the basics of computers, which mainly meant learning how to type quickly. There was a program they used where we would have to practice typing as quickly as we could and they would tell us what our words per minute speed was, and we weren’t supposed to get below a certain number. It was at this time, in about fourth grade or so, when I realized that I hated typing so much that whatever I did in the future would never involve having to type all day or require me to know my wpms. I am proud to say I succeeded in this goal. Are wpms even a thing anymore? I feel very old after this post.