It’s Not You, It’s Me-Social/Media Fast Day 6

I was thinking about something while blow drying my hair this morning. (Deep thoughts occur during a blow dry.  Always have.)  I was thinking how offended some people might be about my fast and my blasting Facebook as a waste of time.  So, I decided to jump on here and clarify my stance on why I am doing this.

This is a problem for me.  My family has remarked on my scrolling and staring for years.  I have cried about it.  Prayed about it.  You name it, I’ve tried.  I have a secret “keep up with the Joneses” complex.  If everyone else can juggle family, homeschooling, photography, philosophy, Bible studies, crafting, gourmet cooking and post pictures about it all day long on Instagram- BY THE MAKER I CAN TOO!!!!! 

My life doesn’t resemble anything I post.  If it did, you would see pictures of me slobbering, scrolling and staring, then running around like a mad woman to half way get my housework done.  It’s just not the kind of life I want. 

I don’t think my friends and family are on Facebook scrolling and staring all day.  I think most people can post a family pic or share a Bible verse and move on with their day.  I think Facebook in the hands of responsible people is a wonderful communication tool.  I feel so fortunate to see updates from family and friends.  When my brothers and I were kids, we had cousins we wouldn’t see for two or three years at a time. Now I get regular updates from them!  Facebook is amazing.  Twitter is fun, brutal, and ulcer inducing all at the same time. 

I have been an avid reader all of my life.  Before I read books, I looked at books.  I made stories in my mind to go with the pictures.  When I learned to read, there was no holding me back.  For someone like me, the internet is crack.  With a few keystrokes I can research any old topic that pops into my head. 

I am starved for real relationships.  The reason I check in on everyone all day is this:  I’m lonely.  I don’t have girl time.  I love my family dearly.  I enjoy the time I have with them even with the stress and all the testosterone fueled hijinks.  But I need real voices, I need to smell people, hear people, interact, see expressions.  I’m searching for something I cannot get online.

The hard part for me is finding ways to live in a social media driven world without getting caught up in it again.  The ladies group at church posts their meetings and updates on Facebook.  Heck, most baby shower invites, get togethers, etc. are announced on Facebook.  Navigating all of this is going to challenge me.  I even have to be careful blogging!  I want more than anything to post pictures all over my blog posts.  Pictures of my accomplishments.

Good grief.

Please don’t feel condemned by my choice to do this.  It’s really about me.  If you feel you are struggling.  Shoot me a comment.  I would love to lend support.

-L

Some Good News!-Social/Media Fast Day Five.

I have no idea what is going on in the world.  Governments could be collapsing, we could be on the march to war, who knows?  Not me!  It’s kind of scary.

I feel much better today.  I talked to my mom this morning and she talked me down from my stress tree.  The kids and I went outside and I watched them play in the kiddie pool.  The sun, wind and sky are too fabulous.  I feel kind of like a kid again.  Looking at clouds.  Searching for airplanes.  Listening to the wind in the trees.  Feeling sand in my flip-flops.  I feel like the Christopher Columbus of my front yard. 

From stress to mania! 

Well, now for some really good news………(<dots= drumroll)  I received my acceptance letter today!  I start the Nursing Program in the Fall!  I’m on my way! I’m ’bout to be somebody!! 

Social/Media Fast Day 4

The clock reads 6:25 p.m. Central time on my computer.  Wow.  I contemplated whether or not this post could wait until tomorrow.  That’s BIG.  Even though I am fasting from various social networks and news sites and channels, I realize this is still the internet.  I am still plugged in daily.  I am not totally free.

Yesterday started off smashing.  I felt energetic, wonderful and quite proud of myself.  Then dinner time arrived.  I prepped the food and listened while my oldest son updated me on an ongoing conflict at work.  I don’t know what happened.  One minute I was keeping up with his story and making dinner, the next I felt the floor dropping out from under me.  I didn’t fall, I just felt wave after wave of stressed out sickness.  Suddenly I wanted to lay down, cram food in my mouth, and vomit all at the same time.  My heart never started pounding, but it kept up a steady pace all night long.  I could not relax.  I felt horrible.  When I closed my eyes I didn’t dream, I just had bizarre images flash in front of my eyes.  Dirt.  Grass. Weeds.  Roots.  More dirt.  I felt panic creeping up.  Was I having a heart attack?  My chest was tight.  I was freezing one minute, then clammy the next. 

This morning, I felt like I had been on an alcoholic binge while running a marathon.  I hate feeling that way.  Those who know me personally, know I have been to the emergency room several times.  All for symptoms resembling a heart attack.  It never has been a heart attack.  It’s always stress, or acid reflux.

Stress sucks.  Stress is why I went on this fast.  I was looking at things that worried me constantly.  Government scandals, wars, death, explosions.  If I wasn’t filling my brain with that kind of garbage, I was trying to keep up with everyone on Facebook or Twitter.  Trying to stay relevant.  Trying to be a walking news cast. 

With the elimination of one stress comes 65 others.  My kids want me to be their personal Country Club Director of Activities.  They want me to have a project ready at all times.  Dishes always need to be done. The laundry mountain looks insurmountable.  Clutter is everywhere. 

I don’t know which stress is worse.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better.  Feeling bad makes everything seem worse.

Stress Test-Social/Media Fast Day 3

Day three, yo!

Today I didn’t jump right onto the computer to update my progress.  I went outside and worked in the garden awhile.  I folded clothes.  I swept the filthy floors.  There were a couple of times when I thought about sitting down and blogging, but it’s hot and I found other tasks to be more important.  (Say what?)  Really!  I also noticed I have dropped 2 pounds.  Nice!

Things I have noticed:

  • My kids try to herd and corral me constantly.
  • I thought the house was pretty clean.  It isn’t.
  • My pets enjoy time with me.
  • I can listen to others without being extremely distracted.  They like it.
  • I don’t feel nauseous on and off all day.
  • I don’t bounce between cravings of salty and sweet.

I would love to write about my stress levels plummeting and the world seeming totally zen.  Hasn’t happened.  Yet.

My kids truly try to control me all the livelong day.  Their little feet hit the ground running in the morning and they don’t stop until they climb into bed.  Crying.  My boys cry a lot.  About everything.  I try to be understanding.  It must be confusing to go from having a mom who stares at a screen all day letting them do pretty much whatever, to a mom who now monitors them more closely.  A mom who has her own plans about nutrition and entertainment.  Yikes.

Levi’s first words to me in the morning are “Mommy, can I watch something?” or “Mommy my tummy is hot” (hungry).  Same with Gideon.  If I am already preparing breakfast when they get up I get an interrogation.  What is it?  What kind of breakfast is that, Mommy?  I want _____ for breakfast.  Remember when you said yesterday that one day you would make chocolate pancakes with chocolate syrup and jelly?  Remember, remember????  Can we go outside?  When are we going to the park again?  Remember when you said we could watch a movie?  Are you going to teach us to play Battleship today?  When are we doing Play-Doh?  Can we paint?  What time is sprinkler time?  Why is it bed time?  Can you sleep with us?  Can you snuggle until we fall asleep? Remember you said you would read us the story about the Little Engine?  What day is tomorrow?  What is that day for?  The park? 

 

They never give up.  I fall into bed exhausted each night.

As I bust through day 3, I hope they find ways to play creatively on their own.  I played with my toys for hours as a kid, or looked at books.  I don’t understand this younger generation at all.  HA HA!

 

Pulling My Hair Out-Social/Media Fast Day 2

It felt weird to pick up the computer this morning.  My inner dialogue was so insistent yesterday.  “Don’t even think about it!”  “Don’t look!”

I finished day one and I am pushing forward with  day two.  I don’t really know what to do with this.  Should I write every day my insights on the day before?  Or should I write about the days adventures in the evening when all is quiet?  I will have to see what works in the coming days.

I had two foul ups yesterday.  The first I told you about.  I logged into Facebook on auto pilot when I was half asleep.  Then I checked an alert which came over my smartphone letting me know I had a friend request.  I just accepted it by phone and moved on.  But!!!!  I was then riddled with guilt all afternoon because I KNEW everyone would see I accepted the friend request.  I knew all of you would think I was lurking on Facebook.  I wasn’t.

I spent most of the day taking note of how I struggled, what I was struggling with, and how it made me feel.  I struggled most of the day with relevance.  My relevance to be exact.  How was the world going to go on without my witty musings, my sarcastic political remarks and my shared memes?  Every activity I performed yesterday was cataloged and adapted to fit into a Facebook post, a tweet or a properly posed pic on Instagram.  My brain worked overtime trying to come up with loopholes that would keep me fresh in everyone’s minds.  Yeah, I was working in the garden, playing outside with my kids, finishing my knitting, cleaning my house and all I wanted to do was turn it into a blurb.  Every cute little thing the kids said or did, I couldn’t just enjoy their words and create a memory, I wanted to advertise.

What is wrong with me?

When I was kid, my grandparents would tell the same stories over and over.  The stories were like having a book read to me.  I wanted to hear them again, see and feel the emotion.  Many of the stories are now firmly imbedded in my memory.  Like my Grandpa’s first day of kindergarten or when my grandma ran to her aunt’s farm as a little girl without permission and she got a really bad whoopin’.  I have so many memories of my own from childhood.  Now?  I can’t retain a memory.  I am often reminded of them by reading over past post online.  What a shame!  I remember so many details of Jacob’s birth and childhood, but my memories of the two littlest are foggy.  Nothing is being stored in the precious hard drive of my mind.  I have crowded out wonderful moments with things that do not matter.  Who cares if I am knitting or what book I am reading right now?  Who?  Maybe if I die, everyone can Instagram their sad faces to a screen.

I am bitter.  I feel used.  I am angry at myself.

I do what I can do.  I ask for forgiveness and move on.

I hope I never look back.

-L

 

 

Self Torture or 30 Day Social/Media Fast-Day 1 (Sorta)

Today was to be the first day of a self imposed fast from social media.  This only counts as a partial day.  My eyes opened this morning and my first thoughts were about the rules of the fast, how proud everyone would be, how much better I would feel and the things I would get done, when my zombie hands reached over, grabbed my Kindle and began scrolling through Facebook.  Mere seconds and I had already lit the proverbial cigarette.

Why the fast?  I’m in trouble folks.  Too much of my life is spent scrolling and staring, scrolling and staring.  It has to stop.  I am watching my kids become more interested in electronics than trees.  I have to break the cycle.  Hopefully for good.

In these thirty days I will talk about my struggles, feelings and hopefully some positive outcomes of getting off of my behind. Unplugging.  Fretting.  Worrying.  We’ll see.  It may be 30 days of withdrawal and torture.

Here are the rules:

1. No Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr etc.

2.  No Fox News, CNN, no news websites of any kind.  Not even the Yahoo homepage.

3.  No Kindle.  Regular old books will have to suffice.  The Kindle leads to scrolling and staring.

4.  The internet can only be used to look up recipes, crochet or knitting patterns, or college related stuff. (I have to be aware of the requirements for the nursing program.)  It can also be used if I have to order something online.  The daily time limit for these activities is 15 minutes.  I must look them up, write them down, or print them out and close the computer.

5.  Television will be kept to a bare, bare minimum and only for the kids.  I will leave the room to do something productive when others are watching.  The television inspires me to look up things so I can scroll and stare.

6.  Accountability.  I am allowed 30 minutes every evening to reflect on the days events and talk about the fast here on CIA.  (<<<Now that’s funny right there!)

 

There it is.  I hope you enjoy reading about nuclear fallout and temper tantrums.  See you tomorrow!

-L

Pressing on.

I don’t have a pretty picture to post. I don’t have Bible verses or clever sayings to motivate anyone.  I am tired.  Too tired to be uplifting or a sterling example of the do-it-all mom.  In fact, I have to fight against a mental wave of snarky comments.  I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

Right now I am in a place where textbooks take precedence over the Good Book.  I am in a place where my family only gets a fractured, frazzled version of me.  I work so hard to extend a hug, a loving glance, a tousle of the hair.  I climb a Mt. Everest of comforters to read stories to eager boys and snuggle them to sleep.  I admit I do it all while running the numbers in my mind.  There isn’t enough time.  There isn’t enough time to absorb everything.  I need every minute to study and I tell the ones I love how I have zero time, but I still find myself drifting to Facebook and wasting time.

Maybe I am struggling because the house is never quiet.  It is never quiet.  Maybe I struggle because I have clouded my vision. No, it’s not any of those things. I struggle because I have God on the back burner.  I’ve lost my focus.  I’ve forgotten what this was all about.  So here is the real question…can I get back to what it was that spurred me to go back to school?  Was my motivation wrong?  In the beginning I had no doubt.  In the beginning I was getting into the Word and I was shielded from all this twisting and turning in the wind.

My pastor would ask what my quiet time looks like.  He would ask how often I am praying.  My quiet time has looked pretty rotten these past few weeks.  My prayers?   All I care about is sleep.  No wonder I am a mess.  I haven’t even dipped a toe into the nursing program and here I am feeling as crazy and stressed as I have at any job.  I question what I am doing constantly.  I had it made!  I was the stay at home mom!  I was going to homeschool my kids and blog.

What am I doing?  Am I making the right choice?

It doesn’t say that in the Bible. Anywhere.

There are people in life who have to say what they believe no matter where they are, no matter the company, no matter the situation.  I would say a six-year-old’s birthday party is not the place to proclaim one is racist and does not care who knows it, but who am I?  When the person is a family member it makes the situation much worse.  First, I cannot believe the person shares the same DNA as my children.  Second, to be lumped in with such ignorance makes my skin crawl.  Lately, I have heard more and more of these types of situations popping up and they seem to escalate around the holidays.

Dear Fool,

Why do you have to show up to family gatherings at all?  You seem only to make an appearance to let everyone know you are still racist.  We knew it last year.  We know it this year.  Stay home and let your racism die with you, or keep your mouth shut when you are in presence of my family.  Try eating some of the delicious food instead of running your mouth.

Love,

Liz

Here is what happened.  This person came over to our home and joined in our birthday celebration.  The conversation quickly turned to government, guns and blah blah blah, like it always does when this person is around.  On the topic of gun control I lamented the fact the media makes out all gun owners to be crazy, racist, whites.  I said mothers and fathers in the inner city are gun owners as well, and they deserve to have a voice in the debate.  It was at that moment this man decided to let everyone in the room know he was racist, and he did not care what anyone thought about it.   My stomach fell into my feet.

Seriously?  I told him racism made no sense because there is only one race.  He argued with me.  I said, “So, you don’t believe Jesus died on the cross for them?”  He argued with me more and pretty much said no.  He then dropped the N word a few times.  I stressed I did not believe in calling people that name.  I asked what he thought about white trash, he said he hated them too.  (How nice.  His hatred was noticeably less.)  I said I believed in “thugs” and they had no color, they just live for themselves, take what they want, and step on everyone in their way.  He turned to another family member and said “Sounds like a n****r to me.”  Then another family member who was sensing my growing wrath turned to me and basically said he didn’t mean the good blacks, just the bad ones.  I felt vomit rising in my throat.  He quickly asserted that he meant all of them.  (He was very proud to let me know there were two black men in town the he would ALLOW to sit at his table.  What a gentleman!)

I reminded everyone  the Bible commands us to love our neighbors, not just our white neighbors.  ALL neighbors.  He scoffed and told me the Old Testament told a different story.  He said the Bible specifically says we are not to intermarry with other races.  To that a few other family members NODDED THEIR HEAD in agreement.  I shook my head and said those verses had nothing to do with race, but with marrying those outside of the faith.  He proceeded to tell a complete BS story about Moses killing Aaron’s wife and family because he had married a black woman.  I told him I had never read anything like that.  He then looked at the person sitting next to him and said the Bible has the word n****r in it TWICE.  I asked him to show me in the Bible where it said that word.   He quickly clammed up and said it was in his King James version but probably not in any of our versions.  When I pressed him on the story of the Ethiopian who wanted to know God’s word and how to be saved he said the Ethiopian must have been the one okay black person in the Bible.

The conversation died, and everyone quickly left.  I was left to stew and steam all night.  How can such ignorance still exist in this day and age?  That night I did a Google search to see if any version of the Bible had any form of the N-word in it.  No.  So where did he get this nonsense?  In all his years of being a practicing “Christian”, did someone teach him this from the pulpit?  I wrestled with it all night.  I woke up early and did another Google search to see what the deal was on “mixing races”.  In my reading of the Bible, I have NEVER come across anything even remotely hinting at segregation.  What came up in the search was astounding.

Did you know there are still churches using certain verses to justify the hate of other people?  Did you know churches exist that will kick out members for marrying someone of another skin color?

The same people who will jump right to the New Testament when it comes to eating pig will fall in love with the Old Testament when it comes to intermarriage.  They are so blind to how wrong they are.  Here are the common verses used to argue against marrying outside of ones skin color:

“As you saw the iron mixed with soft clay, so they will mix with one another in marriage, but they will not hold together, just as iron does not mix with clay.”  Daniel 2:43 (Just who is the clay in this scenario?  Black people?  White people?  Oh sure, white people are strong just like iron.  Eye roll.)

“You shall keep My statutes.  You shall not let YOUR CATTLE breed with a different kind.  You shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed nor shall you wear a garment of cloth mixed with two kinds of materials.”  Leviticus 19:19

You shall not intermarry with them, giving your daughters to their sons or taking their daughters for your sons, for they would turn away your sons from following me, to serve other gods. Then the anger of the Lord would be kindled against you, and he would destroy you quickly.  -Deuteronomy 7:3-4

Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married, for he had married a Cushite woman. -Numbers 12:1  (Oh you mean it was MOSES who married the Cushite?  Someone had their story wrong!!!)

I could go on, but you get the picture.  These verses have NOTHING to do with marrying out of ones “race”.  They have to do with marrying out of ones religion.  God warned many times against being unequally yoked.  There are multiple stories of great people who allowed idols to creep into daily life and destroy the faith of the Hebrews.  Not to mention the verse about cattle, seeds and cloth…good grief.  To make the verse relevant to the topic one would have to demote all other colors of people to the status of animal.  How cruel and heartless.  How far from the message of Christ.

I would ask anyone who believes these falsehoods to search themselves deeply.  Is the hatred of another group of people worth your eternal salvation?  Thank God for the message of Galatians 3:28.  We are neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free….  I would humbly ask those who discriminate against others to remember;  were it not for the message of Christ as given to Paul, we Gentiles would not be part of God’s family.  It would not matter what color we are, had He not adopted us and made us c0-heirs and instantly the sons of Abraham, we would be lost.

I said this on Twitter last night:  Jesus was a Hebrew.  We are all either a few shades lighter, or a few shades darker than Him.  The color of our skin means NOTHING to Him.  He sees our hearts.

Can you look at others like He does?

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Fair Isle Follies.

This weekend I tried something new!  I knitted a super awesome robot beanie for my 3 year old.  I am brand new to chart reading and intarsia,  so I anticipated lots of confusion and crying.  Not at all!  The process was time consuming, but I think it mostly stemmed from my inexperience.  Ironically, the chart was easy to get through.  Finishing the top of the hat was another story.  After knitting furiously for two hours and binding off I noticed the decreases had very large ladders which looked awful.  I tried to seam them up, but only made them look worse.  I had to rip back to the top of the pattern and start over.  Two more hours of furious knitting this morning and voila (!!!), it’s all done!  Happy 3 year old, sad cramped hands.  Worth every minute.

(edit: I still have to learn intarsia.  THIS was a fair isle pattern.  Whoops!!!!)

 Click here for pattern.

He likes it!!!!

(made with Cascade 220 Superwash.  I can’t remember which colors I used.  They were leftovers from Max’s Rocket.)