mourning.

My Grandma Amy has long been one of my favourite people. That's her holding me when I was 1.5 months old. She has a large heart for everyone and anyone, and even up until last year, was sewing and sending many dresses to the orphans in Haiti. She has crafted her whole life. She's raised 7 children while running a farm, and she's burried two husbands. She's decorated her pink three-wheeler bike with streamers for countless trailer park parades. She drove into her late 80s. She offered and paid me $2 to cut off my down-to-my-bum length hair while my mom was out of town. When we slept over, she always bargained with me and my cousins, "the first one to fall asleep gets a quarter," and in the morning, we'd all get 25 cents. She was always giving, giving, giving; she always had a gift bag with your name on it of things she picked up for you, waiting in her sewing room. She always had a cuddle and a song for you, as long as you wanted it. She was always thinking of ways to make other people happy. She's known to many as the "Pink Lady" she has a zest for life, and has been always aged in such a way that leaves you hoping, "I hope I age that gracefully and with so much spark and beauty." She turns 93 next Thursday. Or rather, I hope she will turn 93 next Thursday.

Grandma Amy has been the glue that has held our family together. At first, she didn't need to hold anything together, we were just one big happy family; when I was growing up, all seven of her children (my mom being one) and their children (my cousins and me) would drop everything and gather weekly to see each other and share life together. We loved being a part of the Lumley clan together and I have the fondest memories of Christmases in October (before Grandma Amy and Grandpa Merritt wintered over Christmas in Arizona), summers on the lake at the cottage, cramped family "dos" at her pink trailer, countless sleep-overs with my cousins at her place, weekly dinners out at our standard restaurants, all with Grandma Amy proudly watching us all, orchestrating who sat where, who was included, ever watchful of someone on the perimeter who needed to be included, visiting with everyone present, and always having her finger on the pulse of our growing family. I loved our extended family. My friends could only dream of being a part of something so large and loving and intimate.

As my generation got older and we started having our own families, we moved all over the country, got busy, and the Lumley gatherings just didn't have the same appeal to those who remained. Sure there were dinners whenever someone was in town, but something had changed. The magic of childhood was gone when we met... except for that in Grandma Amy's eyes. A bit quieter and still, Grandma still cherishes whomever comes to gather in her presence and share life with her. Don't think for a moment that you can pass anything by her, because she's still as sharp as a tack. She still knows what's going on in all her grandkids and great-grandkids' lives. She still had her finger on the pulse of our family. She still is holding our family together.

But that's changing. Grandma Amy is dying. My heart is breaking into a hundred little pieces and I don't know how that part of my heart will ever recover. She moved into her nursing home yesterday, after quite a few trips in and out of the hospital. She can't walk anymore. She can't feed herself. She sleeps 22-23 hours a day. The family is on constant vigil. My mom sees part of her mother fade away on a daily basis into this shell of what used to be a vibrant, more than capable woman.

I have called her every Sunday for years and years. My mom told me that I probably wouldn't get to talk with her again as she can't hear to talk on the phone, nor has she the energy for it. (All this in one week--last week's call was delightful, as usual.) By supreme blessing, my aunt called me from Grandma's bedside, knowing it was Sunday and I would be wanting to talk with her. I had what very well might be my last conversation with her tonight. Her voice was slurred and low. She could barely keep up the conversation. But her voice rang clear as a bell when she told me she loved me. Tears streaming down my face, I told her as clear and loud as I could that I loved her too. So much. I didn't want to say goodbye. Didn't want to give up that last bit of connection with her.

I am dreading the phone call. I am preparing myself, but it isn't making it any easier. She's lived a good life, the argument goes. But I selfishly always want her around for a lot longer. If I had to concede, then until we come home in June. I don't know how to say goodbye to someone so close, someone whom I have loved like mad my whole life, someone who has believed in me, supported me, and loved me like mad right back.

'tis done

I just faxed my intent to change my position with the board to a 0.4 FTE. It's set. Although I will have to go in for alternating three part days one week and 2 part days the next, I still think it's a lot. I'm sure I'll get in the swing of it come fall and all will be well. And it's teaching grade 8 band (last the principal and I discussed, anyway). Slowly but surely I'm inching my way back to my beloved senior highs.

And actually, the principal just called to tell me that I'm actually going to be working 0.425 FTE as I have to be paid for my prep time--which I'll take at home. It won't effect how much I'm at the school one iota. Phew. And $75 more a month. Hey, every little bit helps.

Now we just have to see what the good Lord has in store for Dan for the fall. Well, past May, I guess. Waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

Patience is NOT my forte.

so very tired.

I have yet to give in writing my final answer to the principal. We were leaning towards 0.4 FTE teaching 2 days a week. I had come to terms with that. She called back today to let me know it wouldn't be 2 days, but rather 3 days. Sigh. 3 days?! I only wanted to work one for frick's sake. Now 3 days of childcare. Sigh. Still no answer from Dan's work. I have to let the principal know tomorrow. Boy, the "choices" don't get any crappier. I am so stressed and tired from trying to think of all the solutions, needs, logistics, desires of what I want over what needs to be done... My head hurts and I am still spinning. I wish it were easier. Our life has never been easy though. 3 days away from my boys every week. Sure, not full days, but 3 days nonetheless. Big sigh.

my marriage advice to newlyweds at their shower this afternoon (note: I really didn't feel like I was the wisest one to do this. It was humbling.)

I feel honoured, yet so inadequate–-there's so much more wisdom and experience in this room!
I don’t want to say much --too much gets lost.

Main point: marriage is hard work and daily full of hard choices. It’s hard to keep a vibrant, respectful, honouring relationship cultivated… too easy to co-exist, however content you may be. I’m not saying marriage can’t be loving or wonderful, but it isn’t an “easy” road—that’s not the way we’re created!

You know this: life is busy, and about to get busy beyond belief come June. Start now learning to share life together, not just being married out of habit. Do little things to work at this:
*Eat together without the TV on
*Have a night set apart for you (go out, when baby comes [due in June], home is ok—just set apart to focus on each other)
*Talk to each other before bed (don’t go mad...don’t bottle up your emotions)
*Laugh at yourselves – don’t be too serious
*Don’t get caught in the trap of being focused on things, parenting or problems rather than each other. Cherish what uniqueness you each bring to the marriage.

It’s hard work to remember to put each other first, and sacrifice all along the way, for the good of the other. You have to choose this daily. (Not saying being a doormat-find the honouring balance)
You’ll disagree a lot… you’re a lot like me in that you’re “high-spirited” and don’t like to take things laying down and would rather fight!! But choose to WORK at your marriage. Listen. Respect. Make choices to honour each other. For me, it’s so easy to be selfish or sarcastic or demanding. I’m not saying I have it figured out. It’s really hard. Praying for him really helps keep a soft heart towards him and your roles together.

But know that there’s a choice daily, and that it takes concentrated effort and thought and LOVE to make the right choices. You’ll be blessed in your marriage for it.
I know God has brought you together by no accident, as well as the precious little one you’re carrying. He has great plans for you and cherishes you all. Rest in Him when you can’t find the strength to do all this alone—He didn’t mean you to.

too many questions

I have a call with a principal to a school that I might work at this fall in ten minutes. My heart is racing. Not because I’m nervous that I won’t get the job, but rather, what the job looks like and if I want to take it. I thought that I was on top of the world coming off of maternity leave with options abounding, but it turns out that my options are limited, and my timing on making that decision even more limited. And we have to do all this without knowing what the future holds for Dan job-wise.

I’m a bit stressed out.

**time has passed**

I have talked to the principal at the new school (the junior high extension of my present school) and while I am a bit calmed with what my options are before me, as in what they look like, I am still panicked about which one to choose! Basically this is the gist:

Option 1: Stay at my old school (grades 1-4) where the only job available to me is a full-time (1.0 FTE) grade 4 class

Option 2: Move to the new school (grades 5-9) where I can have a 1.0 FTE teaching band, drama and English

Option 3: At the new school again, I can have a 0.4 FTE teaching band alone. That 0.4 can fall on either 2 full days (rotating on a 6-day schedule), or on 4 mornings or afternoons (rotating on that same schedule).

If we knew if Dan’s work was going to accept his job proposal and give him work for the fall, this would be an easier choice, by far. What if I say I’ll work part-time, and then he doesn’t get work and I need to go back full-time to support us? As soon as I say I’ll work part-time, I’m signing away my full-time continuing contract with the board and they are not obligated to me to give me anything past the part time I said I would want. Sigh. I’m pooched.

Conversely, if I tell them I want a full time position and then change my mind, I’m totally at the mercy of the system. I have given up my “choice” of what I want to teach and time-tabling options, and I have to resort to whatever job posts are left in the system, wherever they may be, for whatever FTE they may be, whatever the timetabling looks like, and whatever the teachable subject looks like. Now, that’s a gamble I wouldn’t be happy with come fall and looking for “occasional work.”

What to do, what to do, what to do. When in life does it get easier? Is it even supposed to get easier and have more stability. I do all this belly-aching full-well knowing that there are people who would kill (well, maybe do something a little less unconscionable) to have all these options open to them (i.e. Dan!), and that this isn’t a hardship to face at all, but coupled with Dan’s uncertainty in gainful employment, and the two little boys sleeping down the hall from me as I type and their need for a mama or dada around in their days, you may see how I am conflicted.

Throw me a bone here, God! An answer written across the sky will suffice. Don’t make me do this alone. I’m going to screw something up, and it’s not going to be pretty. Damn that 20/20 hindsight.

Other than that, I guess all’s going well. The sun sure helps. More than helps. Sustains. Energizes. Gives purpose and resolve. Thank God for the sun, the blue skies, the warmth, the blooming flowers outside, and even for the smell of dirt. Yes sir.

book recommendation

Just a quickie here to say to everyone with a small person in their lives, or thinking of getting a small person, then the book Positive Discipline: The First Three Years is absolutely amazing. It is doing such a wonderful job of explaining why they are the way they are, what is acceptable and developmentally appropriate behaviour and what isn't, what you can do to help them become more skilled and autonomous in life, how to keep your sanity (understanding those little folk is HUGE I'm finding!!), and do it all with grace, kindness and firmness and not have to resort to punitive or belittling ways. And it is written in such an attainable, understandable and approachable way. No heady discourses here. Just the facts in everyday settings that I am sure you'll be recognizing and nodding in agreement to many times over. I find myself so excited to get back to it and read more!

It is totally revamping how I am viewing my role as a parent and what I can do to keep my cool and learn to enjoy Natty (and even Isaac's progress!) more each day. I highly recommend it to you all. Highly. Don't think you need a 2-yr old to benefit. It is really helpful from the get-go to understand how your interactions even affect these little beings and what type of person they might be as a result! Get the book. Do it. You won't regret it. You too can learn to enjoy moments such as this:

Hey, how's everyone coming along with getting Dance of the Dissident Daughter? Post your response on www.shannonfisher.ca in the boards section. Let's get moving on this! : )