Our dog doesn't know it, but his life is about to change forever. You see, he hasn't been neutered. Yet. But his appointment is already on the calendar, so it's a Sword of Damocles that he's blissfully unaware of. I won't spoil these last few weeks of joyful intact-ness for him, by letting him in on the secret.
But with inquisitive boys around, his canine manliness hasn't gone unnoticed. In fact, it's been the subject of several impromptu anatomy lessons. So tonight, my nine year old son pointed to the dog's testicles, and asked me, "What is that?" I was a bit surprised, since I assumed he knew what those were. I simply stated, "Those are his testicles."
My son responded with an equally perplexing, "What are testicles again? His GUTS??"
A bit stymied, yet keeping my poker face, I replied (with a bit of circumlocution, in hopes that he'd "get it" since his five year old sister was there) "No, that is his scrotum."
At this, he suddenly perked up, and wordlessly bounded into the nearby bathroom--not ten paces away. With the door wide open, we heard him bellow, "Where are my testicles, again???"
Side note: THANK GOD he at least had the sense to go in the bathroom.
At this point, my five year old daughter finally piped up, and shouted back in earnest sincerity, "Don't you know??? They are on your knuckles!"
After my last post, I didn't get better. I stayed sick. For a month. In fact, I'm still not 100%. Five minutes ago, I downed my nightly jigger of store-brand Nyquil, which should only improve the content of this post. So aided by my drugs, I am finally up to posting again.
The other thing that happened is that I've had something new demanding a lot of my time. Well, someONE new, to be more specific. It's been a wild and fun start to the new relationship, so I've been a little preoccupied. He's got auburn hair, and an incredible upper body. We met online. Here he is, with my oldest and my youngest kiddos. The one in pink is particularly fond of him. Scroll down to see him.
The story goes like this: He was a rescue dog. He was in need of a home because his previous family went through foreclosure and couldn't keep him. They were moving into a condo, and had to re-home him. Many people expressed interest in adopting him, but they clearly had bad intentions, and wanted to use him as a "guard dog" (or worse, "fighting dog.") He's three years old and a wonderful family pet. He is the sweetest soul, and although he just arrived before New Year's, he's already a part of the family.
When he first arrived, we understood his name to be "Bertie." So, we called him Bertie for several days, or "Bert," for short. Only some of the kids couldn't quite get it right, and called him "Bergie," which would occasionally be pronounced "Vergie," or even, "Virgil."
And then we found out his name wasn't "Bertie" at all, but, rather, "Bentley."
So, now the good-natured fellow answers to all of the above names, and a month later he still gets called all of them. The family is divided on which of his names we prefer, so he may always answer to all of them. And that, like everything else, seems to be fine with him.
In answer to any questions, Bentley is a Staffordshire Terrier mix, which may include Staffordshire Bull Terrier, American Stafforshire Terrier, and other unknown breeds. Yes, this breed is one of the several breeds sometimes colloquially referred to as a Pitbull. However, the American Pitbull is a different, but related breed.
And whatever Bentley is, he is a sugar lump, that's for sure. We're so happy he's with us. He makes me laugh. Now that our "honeymood phase" is over, I should be back to blogging more ;-) And now, for any of you animal lovers, I'll be able to include regular pics of the new guy.
The past few months have provided so much more freedom to experience joy around here. Now I can laugh so much more readily with my kids and even (sometimes!) at them. This is a big change for us, because Mommy hasn't laughed much in the past. But times, they are a changin'!
One thing I've found about dynamic periods of change is that they're full of exhilaration at the time, but I quickly forget them. It's sad but true. I'm like the Israelites in the Bible who quickly complain that they want to return to Egypt; even when God is leading them with a pillar of fire and feeding them with manna. Instead of realizing or remembering all the goodness of God, they begin missing the "leeks" and other foods back in stinky-ol'-slavin'-away Egypt.
Anyway, at some point in the Bible, God tells people to start recording all the miracles he does for them, so they don't forget. And at some point, they start building little shrines to help them remember. They call them........wait for it now........Ebenezers.
Yeah, weird word....as in Scrooge, Cratchit, et. all. But it has nothing to do with that. Except that it is Christmas time right now, so it relates in a bizarre sort of non sequitur way. Merry Christmas.
But back to the Ebenezers in the Bible. They were simply a way for people to memorialize or record something awesome that God did. And since most people back then didn't write, they couldn't just write it down. So, they built up some rocks, or did other stuff that would help them remember: an Ebenezer.
But, nowadays, most of us read and write. And that makes things easier. So that's a little bit of what this blog is for me, because it's kind of like an Ebenezer in a crazy digital way. It's a record, anyway. One of the things that I want to record is God's work in my heart as evidenced by laughter. So now, because this is totally a stream of consciousness post, I'm going to relay a 3-second snippet of my day that made me laugh until a tear rolled down my cheek.
I laughed because I could, more than because it was funny. I laughed because God loves me, and I love my kids, and I don't have to live in fear any more.
Overheard today. The scene: My 4 year old girl is dressed in a fairy costume.
"I'm Tinkerbell. (pause)
I don't really have control.....of my hair. I'm not having a very good day with my hair. (pause)
But I'm Tinkerbell."
It really made me laugh. And maybe the Christmas reference shouldn't be overlooked, because I hope to record this as The Christmas We Laughed Again. And I'm going to make sure we don't forget what a blessing that is.
Let's just face it. Sometimes it hurts too much to laugh. Sometimes laughter isn't even appropriate.
The death of a loved one. Pain visited on a child. Senseless violence.
And for me, more recently: Rejection. Cold, hard, rejection is one of those things that can cause so much pain that it's really hard to even breathe, much less laugh. For me, rejection, coupled with betrayal (secrecy, deception or outright lies) causes one of the most bitter forms of pain. At many points in the last few months, not only has it been too painful to laugh, it would have been inappropriate, since some revelations have signified a descent into such a place of darkness for a person I once loved and trusted that nothing joyful can immediately emerge. I can trust that in time, there can be a joyful end...but now? There's nothing joyful about it.
So in the midst of darkness, if you can't laugh, is there an alternative? Are we left with only sadness, anger, bitterness or fear? Is time the only healer?
After doing some searches in the Bible, although Laughter and Joy are powerful themes in the book, there are other themes that call out to me as well. The theme of Peace is one of them.
"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27
Shortly after my marriage fell apart, I felt strongly led, and was even given a "word from the Lord" from a friend that I needed to
"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10
Of course that phrase is thrown about so much it's cliche. A no-brainer, right? But in the most turbulent of circumstances, it doesn't seem like a no-brainer at all. In fact, it seems counter-intuitive, since everything around me has led me to take action. And, in fact, I had to take action. But how can I take action and also "Be still?" How can these two ideas coexist? Gradually, I am beginning to see that they can.
I'm trying to understand it. But I don't know how well I've done. I've felt strongly led to go spend some time at a local monastery in prayer, but I haven't made it out there yet. My time without children is still so little, and it's an hour or so drive each way. My life doesn't lend itself to being still. There isn't much apparent peace around me, either. I've got four kids. Pretty loud kids. Pretty crazy kids.
I don't have all the answers, that's for sure. But I do know this. I need to know more about Peace. God's peace. Sometimes the Bible calls it "Peace that passes all understanding." To me, that means "Peace that doesn't make sense." Well, how about, "Crazy peace?" Is that an oxymoron? I don't know, but maybe that should be added to my list of things the "new me" is learning more about.
Crazy peace. Yeah, that's got a certain ring to it. I'm on it.
In all sincerity, the last 48 hours have been tough. I'm prepared for ups and downs at this point, so I'm not letting "being down" get me down. Know what I mean?
Today, in the midst of my funk, glory be to God, I pulled my head out of the ground long enough to do the following:
-Be thankful and express thanks to a family member who took valuable time (many hours!) to come spend time with me, go to Home Depot with me, and to do some repair work in my house. A few days ago, I opened up my daughter's ceiling fan light fixture to replace the light bulb, and I discovered exposed melted wires, lying directly on burned out light bulbs. Wow. So today I choose gratitude for the fact that our home didn't burn down, and that my family member took time out to come replace the entire fixture. (Bonus! The new fan is much prettier than the old one!) But even more than the household help, I am grateful for the company and love that my family member showed me today. I needed the companionship, and Jesus provided.
-In a moment of enjoying my two year old laugh, I chose to join her in pretending to lick the table like a "puppy dog." Just this simple act of silliness brought forth laughter from me that was sorely needed. Although at first I didn't feel like being silly, I immediately felt better!
-Later (having uncorked my bottle of laughter) I found myself laughing until a tear rolled down my cheek when I showed off the ugliest ever light fixture (headed for the trash) that I had recently replaced myself. As I looked at it, and watched my family member's reaction, I realized just how hideous it really was. This allowed me to LOL at the fact that I'd lived with it over my front door for nearly four years.
So, on a day when I really didn't feel like enjoying laughter or feeling gratitude, God gave me a couple of chances, and I dove in head first. Thank you, God for the strength. Give me more for the days to come. I'm feeling better for it already ;-)
As I've previously shared, I'm on a personal search to rediscover laughter in the midst of turmoil and pain. Of course I naturally gravitate to other people whose pain is similar to mine (marriage problems, relationship difficulties, day-to-day parenting challenges, etc.) But sometimes I run across a blog or an article that describes someone else's search for laughter and joy in the midst of a different life crisis.
I just read this article on Bankruptcy Law Network (of all places) about the importance of laughter during bankruptcy. This is a struggle I have yet to face. However, sure's shootin' having said that, I'm in for it. Murphy's Law has always been generous consistent with me! Every time I've ever thought something like that; i.e. "I'll never have to face miscarriage," or "I'll never have to face separation or divorce," or any of the other "biggies" out there, they eventually seem to saunter my way.
(Note to self: Please don't think about purple dinosaurs eating my house. Please, please, please.)
Anyway, the article is neat because it also gives a brief history of an American icon who faced bankruptcy but later became a symbol of laughter, humor and joy. Click through if you're looking for encouragement!
It's been my little white lie for ages. I type it, but I don't really do it. There's no real laughing going on. It's only a virtual laugh out loud.
But a laugh in my head is just as good as a real one, right? A laugh no one hears. A laugh no one sees. A laugh that no "real" people enjoy. Not my children. Not anyone. In fact, probably not really a laugh at all.
The ugly truth is that until very recently, I had stopped laughing altogether. My LOLs were a fraud.
But I used to LOL for real. I admit I was never the class clown. That was my brother. He sparked enough laughs for everyone. But although I wasn't usually the one making people laugh, I could laugh right along with the best of them. All through growing up, and into early adulthood, I'd laugh. Sometimes uproariously, especially with my girl friends. Or at home, with my family. Lots of laughs was real.
But in the last few years I'd noticed something. Laughter was petering out. And what laughter or jokes were left had all turned sharp. Hard. Cutting. Tinged...with something. Something I didn't want to talk about.
And its been like that all the way up until recently. But shortly after the big changes that happened in our family, laughter began reemerging. It crept in when I didn't expect it. Really, at first it was just a chuckle or two. They took me by surprise. I was hesitant. I almost felt guilty. Laughing? How could I be laughing? I'm going through a living hell, for cripes sake! This is serious.
But I got suspicious that it might be a "God thing" when a good friend, 20 years my senior gently drew me aside. A church leader, she confided to me her own story:
"Very few people know this, but fifteen years ago my husband and I separated. Although we were able to repair our marriage and reconcile, it was a very dark time. I was left with two small children, and I felt very afraid. But my dear," she continued, "You must start laughing again. Do whatever it takes. Turn on the Funnies, Lucielle Ball, whatever makes you just bust a gut and start laughing. If one of your kids puts a pie plate on his head, you should all put pie plates on your heads and march around the house laughing. It will be your salvation, as it was mine. Whether your marriage is healed or not, you absolutely must bring laughter back."
Her comments struck me. Laughter is no laughing matter. It's vital to the healing process.
As time has worn on, she's been so right. I've tried hard to follow her advice. And not only has it been good, it's gotten easier. Way easier. And it's become contagious. My kids are laughing. Instead of constantly scolding them; I'm laughing right along with them! I had no idea what the load I'd been carrying around was doing to me. And my kids. And everyone around me. The absence of laughter was a telltale sign that something was very rotten in Denmark.
But despite my revived addiction to laughter, had I really started laughing for real? I was skeptical. The acid test for me would come in the form of the snort laugh. You see I haven't always been a snort laugher. In fact, the snort laugh was a bit of an enigma to me for years. I thought it belonged only to the purview of preadolescent slumber parties and the like. I could be a guffawer, or a snickerer, but it wasn't until I was well into my 20's that I was shocked to hear myself develop a snort laugh. I don't know whether it was allergies, physiological changes associated with pregnancy and childbirth, or a change of administrations in nearby Washington, but whatever the cause, I joined the ranks of the snort laughers.
So, of course when laughter went out of my life, so did my snort laugh. And my snort laugh required such a degree of uninhibited joviality that I knew I'd be back in business when it returned. So, as the weeks have progressed since I started laughing again, I have anxiously awaited its arrival.
And the snort laugh has not disappointed. Just as my first, tentative chuckles suddenly and surprisingly surfaced, so has my snort laugh. Sometimes at the most inappropriate times, because...well...when is a snort laugh appropriate? But I am now thrilled to say that yes, my finest of ladylike qualities has finally reemerged. And I'm feeding it; hoping to bring it back in all its appalling glory.
Why just this morning I snort laughed at only the tiniest bit of humor. It was great. And I hope to do a lot more of it. Maybe even with food in my mouth, if I'm lucky. Almost like the time in 3rd grade when I was noshing on a raw carrot. And I was riding my bike. At the same time. And I sneezed while hanging on to the handlebars for dear life....man, that took days of blowing my nose to clear things out.
Why was I riding a bike and eating a carrot at the same time, Mom?
In case you need a little help, I wanted to directly link my favorite Lucy YouTube video, which also happens to involve a vegetable type substance.
