Whining, Empathy, Sighs, etc.

I've gotten hints from two people (Amy, and Bernice from Kenya) that I really should post again, which makes me kind of "botsich" as my mom used to say, because it means someone actually reads this. Real people, too, not just anonymous forms from who-knows-where.

So I will rattle and ramble because I don't know what to post about, and most of this will be whining and complaining I'm afraid.

The opposite of botsich is humble, and there's plenty to keep me humble these days, such as the state of this house, which suddenly has erupted in clutter and dirt. What is the deal, do I ignore it all winter because I have SAD? Or does it just explode when the weather turns warm? Terrible, the dust in the shadows, and I can't catch up with it to save my life.

Other women always seem to have everything under control and if I let myself I can get really jealous. Such as my friend Rachel, who has a lovely clean house and fantastic flower beds and two little girls whose dresses are all sewed at the beginning of the season.

Rachel told me I can transplant my roses whenever I want. "Roses are so tough, they can take about anything." Well, famous last words, as Mom used to say. I transplanted 5 rose plants out of the bed and into a row beside the house, watering and fertilizing and babying them like everything, and they are dying like everything too. Arrgghh. Just withering up.

We've had the most indescribably gorgeous weather the last few days, even hitting a record-breaking 95 degrees which was a bit much but you can take anything after a long winter of cold and rain as long as you have a glass of iced tea. I've been spending hours outside in the flower beds which may be why the house is going to pot.

Last week Ben and Steven had two choir concerts and did tear-jerkingly well. And now they're done for the summer but Jenny will continue with piano and Steven will begin lessons as well, and Jenny is all botsich because she will actually be ahead of Steven in something.

Graduation is on Thursday night and Emily will graduate by the school board's mercy and finish her work later. It has been a long hard winter on so many levels, with Matt and Amy leaving home and Emily being sick and my SAD and all. I was very stoic for most of it but now that it's about over (at least winter's over and Amy's coming home Thursday) I suddenly have the weeps. Caring for a chronically ill child has to be one of the more emotionally draining jobs in the universe and thinking of all her losses is just plain hard.

Actually I wasn't doing so badly until on Sunday someone talked to me about it, which is nothing new, but this person had actually been through something very similar and her heartfelt empathy put me right over the edge and I have been honestly grieving like I haven't for the past 8 months. How odd is that.

Empathy is an interesting thing. Plenty of people talk to me about Emily's situation, and this is all good and I appreciate it, but I can tell in about 30 seconds who has experienced something like this and who hasn't. Many people provide sympathy, and they can care deeply and be very nice and helpful, but it's the empathetic people who crack my walls of determined bravery and let me cry all those tears I didn't even know were dammed up inside.

I don't know that I'd say it's my primary love language like it is for my sister Rebecca, but it's certainly on my list. (And no, Gary Chapman doesn't list it among his famous five but Gary Chapman doesn't know everything.)

I can't offer you much if your husband is cheating or you're afraid of spiders or you dread having devotions at sewing circle, but if you ever have to deal with long-term illness in yourself or a child, come to me and I'll give you more empathy than you ever asked for.

I think that was kind of a rabbit trail there.

This is how my life goes: Hansie is shedding so bad his yellow fur hangs in ragged tufts and gets scattered all over the yard. So the other day Steven brushed him good and gave him a bath. Ah, wonderful, another cleaning job off my list. Then Hansie promptly went up on the porch and shook himself and spattered cloudy doggy water all over the glass patio doors.

I made two cheesecakes on Saturday, one for the school picnic and one for Sunday dinner, in an attempt to rack up a few housewife points, using Bonnie the fantastic cook's recipe, which was supposed to be done in 50 minutes. An hour and a half later they still jiggled in the middle. After almost two hours I had to grab them out of the oven and go, and hot cheesecake isn't exactly a prizewinning dessert, and this is also how my life goes.

I often think of how most Western women in Kenya, and even the middle-class Kenyan women, would never in their wildest nightmares be solely responsible for a family, cleaning, cooking, laundry, yard work, animals, and cleaning vehicles. If this place were transported to Kenya I would have probably two inside and two outside workers, at least. In fact, they tended to be so overstaffed over there that you'd see a man outside slowly sweeping the flower petals off the driveway.

And yet other women around here do it. I wonder how. It's a mystery to me.

I did go speak to a ladies' group in Salem on Saturday, which I enjoyed as always and they laughed out loud and applauded and even bought a few books, so that was a bit of balm for my housewifely inferiority, but it doesn't get the upstairs shower scrubbed and of course none of the housewives that I compare myself with ever come hear me speak. Sigh.

"How do you conquer discouragement?" wondered the Sunday school teacher yesterday, and one man said, "Count your blessings" which I thought was very simplistic but maybe I should try it.
Emily still makes me laugh and the West Nile hasn't destroyed her humor, praise God.
Amy comes home Thursday and will no doubt help me whip the house into shape.
Paul never complains about my housekeeping and thinks I'm a good cook.
We've had beautiful green warm evenings in which we could eat supper on the porch.
Ah yes, life is good.

Quote of the Day:
(Outside, cleaning up this evening)
Me: Here, go put this hatchet away and don't scalp anyone on the way.
Ben: Oh man, why do you always gotta ruin all the fun?