Heavy Quick Takes (or, Get a Grip Friday)

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This past week, y'all. Whew! This has been a fruitful Lent. The weekend was really great with a fun birthday party at Charlotte's friend's house. The parents hung about chit-chatting while the girls got their nails and make up done. I brought Mae, who was automatically the Belle of the Ball. That night we had Grown Ups Game Night, which was funny and silly and whew, no stress, unless you count Scott's campaign for a baby so that we can name him/her Frances/is. (I know I'm blessed my husband wants so many children, but I don't think a new papal namesake should be part of the discussion.)

Sunday was fun with a trail run and CCD with the 7th graders, where I taught them P's PreK lenten song to the tune of Frere Jauqes:
"Prayer and fasting and almsgiving
We are meant, to repent
Forty days of sacrifice
Being extra super nice
This is Lent
This is Lent"

This was our effort to get the kids to recall the three lenten practices of prayer, fasting and alms-giving.  It's nice to know the tuition to Catholic education pays off and that my 3 year old knows what 7th graders struggle to learn.

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Monday. Oh someone just let me forget that day, please! First of all, Scott took C to her pre-op because I had to get more bloodwork done. I've been a mess of mystery symptoms and had two blood draws scheduled to coincide with hormonal shifts. (Yay for doctors who don't start prescribing medicine before figuring out what it going on!)

Monday's draw was terrible. I felt "off" anyway, but just a tad. As I was waiting for my turn I watched as a phlebotomist  dug around for an elderly woman's vein. I'm not usually squeamish, and the elderly woman didn't seem too concerned about what was happening, but I began to get dizzy watching. When the other phlebotomist started my draw I got instantly woozy. She informed me I didn't look so well, and I informed her that, coincidentally, I did not feel very well. I began to hear a high-pitched squeal in my ears and see flashes of light. And then I heaved. So, that happened.

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This Quick Take is dedicated to asking the question, who here gets frustrated at God?

In finding out that my thyroid is malfunctioning, I really didn't know what to do with that information. Quite frankly I  felt like God was being a jerk to me. I knew logically that this was stupid and the intensity of my overbooked life combined with my faith was no ward against further suffering, but I really felt entitled to a damn break.

This is the frustrating thing about being Catholic. The combined belief that God always has my interests at heart, and the pragmatic view that life is messy, throws me for a loop when I find I feel like God owes me a pass on tough situations. I didn't expect, and don't expect, God will protect me from drama, but I found myself making these arguments to Him in frustration. "Why can't you just give me a pass? Do you not realize that I am confined by hours in a day? What is your problem?"

Am I alone in my God rants?

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So, having had a few days to examine my issues, I think I've concluded that the only path through this particular point in time is to grow in humility. Not that I'll be a passenger in my own life.What I mean by humility is submission that I may not have all the answers right away, but that I must be receptive to God's call even when I don't understand. I don't understand this health issue I'm facing and I hate it. I feel angry about the changes I am going to have to make to become healthy and I feel very angry about being dependent on medication. None of my feelings change reality, so I have to learn how to submit to God's will, which of course is to face reality and be brave...and grateful.

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Was I scared the day of Mariana's surgery? Yes. The informed consent is scary enough, add the risks to a child with Down syndrome and the fear is exponential. Lately I'm afraid for Mariana because I keep learning disturbing health risks to children with Down syndrome. Again, I take this as a call to humility, and even more terrifying, trust. I know I'm a control freak, but this idea of trusting in having the strength and resources to forge ahead is not bringing out the best in me. My weak points are becoming more exposed with time. I can't help but wonder, is this a good "cleansing" thing, or am I going to buckle under all of this?

So far, I'm going with "a good thing". It's kind of how watching Pope Francis perform all those "normal" tasks and works of mercy is like holding a mirror up to my own pathetic attempt to call myself a Christian. All these trials we're facing just expose the places we need to fortify in ourselves. Trusting that God will protect us while we do the work is really scary, but what choice do we have? There is no good alternative.

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This has been a very heavy Quick Takes, so let me lighten the load with the revelation that Mariana seems to be saying, "No-no" to us during meal times. Princess does not like to feed herself. She is a very "in the box" thinker, so a change in routine is next to heresy to this darling. When I try to guide her hand to hold a spoon or pick up some food, she flails and yells, "Nah-nah-nah-nah!" It's funny because it's not your kid doing it.

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Ah, the last Quick Take, finally. I shall end with a few tid-bits:

I did not faint or heave during my blood draw on Thursday.

My kids get swim gear instead of candy from the Easter Bunny.

I accidentally ordered a swimsuit for C that is back ordered.

I hope Mariana looks exactly the same in heaven as she does on earth.

I am listening to one of my children throw a tantrum.

I'm actually okay with it.

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