I Take a Bubble Bath Every Night

26 Oct 2014 13 Comments

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Homemaking, Cleaning, Organizing, Parenting Tags: , , ,

spalady-stockphotos

 (Image by Stockphotos, courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

My coworkers are unanimously amazed that I take a bubble bath every night.

I mentioned it one day months ago, and I still hear them talking about it. One was wondering what she might give me for my birthday. “Well, she takes a bath every night, you know,” said another. “Oh, that’s right!” the first one answered excitedly, probably having visions of exotic bath products.

Also, the other day, I heard one comment, “I can’t believe Kim shaves her legs every night.” “What?!” said a second one. “Who does?” and when she was told it was me, she stared at me, incredulously. “Every night? There’s no way.”

I am surprised that they find it so amazing. I suspect they imagine me in a garden tub with candles and a flute of champagne, when really my bath is simply a part of my routine, no different than brushing my teeth. I fill the tub, toss in some bubble bath, and get in. If I’m reading an actual book I might take it into the bathroom with me and read a few pages while I soak. (One of the disadvantages of Kindle is that I’m afraid to read it in the tub in case I might drop it, so I read in the tub less often now.) Even including shaving, the whole process probably takes fifteen minutes—maybe a little longer if it’s a chilly night and the hot water is feeling especially good to my muscles. I like to go to bed clean in consideration of my husband, but also I simply enjoy my bath. I’ve taken them for as long as I can remember.

When I’ve asked my friends why it shocks them so, they’ll generally say, “How do you have time? Who has time for that every night?” I just cock my head and look at them, puzzled. I once read a book called Open House, by Elizabeth Berg. The narrator expresses curiosity about the lives of her neighbors, and wishes she could somehow magically crack open the roofs of their houses to peer inside and check out their lives. I think of that when my friends say they don’t have time for a bath. Granted, they simply might not care to take one, but to not have time? I wonder what it is they’re doing at 9 or 10 PM.

They’re not working. Cooking and cleaning seem unlikely at that hour. A few of them may be doing their college homework. But mostly I would guess they are shopping, doing errands they didn’t get to over the weekend, or coming home late from some sort of kids’ or church activity. See, this is why my children never did a great deal of extracurricular stuff. This is why I myself am not a “joiner,” and am probably gossiped about for my continuous absence at “ladies’ craft night” and various other activities at my church. My husband and I –both of us, and I’m very glad to be united in this matter—simply demand some “down time,” and will consider no other way of life. We work, we maintain an orderly home, stocked with groceries and clean laundry, we go to church on Sundays, and THEN—we expect some rest and relaxation. Period. 

When our son was younger, a buddy of his joined a Little League team. The two kids were in after-school care together, so we would run into his parents and speak to them most days. It seemed that this ball team had practice virtually every night of the week, and then games on Saturdays. I was more amazed by this than my friends are about my bath! Every night of the week? Seriously? And then to have the family’s whole Saturday dominated by the preparation for the game, the traveling to it and the playing of it? Thankfully our son was never interested in this kind of thing. But it seems to me that children are usually pushed into such activities by their parents when they’re barely past the potty-training stage. They’re too young to even know what baseball and gymnastics are, much less ask to participate. So parents, I have to wonder, why do you take on so much? Why do you over-schedule yourself and your family so?

clock-stockimages

 (Image by Stockphotos, courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

My son usually gets home from school just a few minutes before I get home from work. Once I change clothes, sometimes I plop down in his room to visit, or sometimes he comes to mine. We talk about whatever presents itself. One day last week, I told him the whole story of the day he was born. On another day, I asked him what he was reading in his English class and we discussed that. Eventually he’ll say he’s hungry and I might go ahead and fix him something to eat if he can’t hold out until dinnertime. But the point is, nobody’s in a hurry. Nobody’s nagging anybody to get ready to go somewhere. No major tasks are hanging over my head because we routinely take care of shopping and cleaning.  It’s 5 o’clock, and we’re pretty tired, but it’s okay because our day is mostly done. I care for the pets, tidy things up and look around the kitchen to see what I might fix for dinner, which I assure you is nothing complicated. Usually I light the candles in the living room, and then we’re just hanging out, waiting for Daddy to come home and join us. Our family is in for the night.

Prayer for Housework + Homecoming Hoochie-Wear

19 Oct 2014 5 Comments

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Christian Life, Cleaning, Homemaking, Modesty, Parenting Tags: , , , ,

You’d think for once maybe I’d just write something NICE…especially since the idea for the first part of this post literally came to me in a dream, and I can’t remember that ever happening to me before. But alas, I cannot be as nice as some of my fellow bloggers, much as I admire them.  Hence the name Sweet Water AND Bitter. Here’s the nicer part:

Laundry tongdang

(Image by Tongdang, Courtesy of FreeDigitalImages.net)

 

A PRAYER FOR DOING HOUSEWORK

I woke up this morning

(Awake, thou that sleepest)

And threw on some clothes.

(Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.)

As usual, it was waiting for me:

(Go therefore now, and work)

the housework.

(To be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed.)

Making beds

( Marriage is honourable in all, and the bed undefiled)

Washing dishes

(Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.)

Dusting

(My soul cleaveth unto the dust: quicken thou me according to thy word.)

Caring for pets

(Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?)

Doing laundry

(Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow)

Cooking

(Thou preparest a table before me)

Sweeping

(And when he cometh, he findeth it swept and garnished)

Surely there are more “fun” things to do in life

(Folly is joy to him that is destitute of wisdom)

But I am blessed to have a home to call my own

(Every wise woman buildeth her house)

And spaces to keep clean and orderly, out of love

(To love their husbands; to love their children)

For those who fill the once-empty rooms.

(God setteth the solitary in families.)

 ___________________________________________________________

NOW…..ABOUT THE HOMECOMING DRESSES:

Well, ladies, it’s that time again…seems like prom and wedding season was just yesterday, and here we are posting pictures of our beautiful teenagers in their homecoming attire. For those readers outside the US ( and I’m pleased to say there are many!) a high school homecoming, in its simplest terms, is a football game followed by a special dance at which the students dress up somewhat more than usual. It’s called homecoming because former students (whether college-aged or adult) often come back to visit and relive old times at their alma mater. I don’t know about you, but in my high school years, a homecoming outfit was simply a nice date outfit. Maybe a new skirt or sweater, but certainly something that could be worn for many other occasions as well. Nowadays, homecoming is one step below prom, and the girls wear…well, there’s hardly another word for them…cocktail dresses.

Prom DC Dominici

(Image by David Castillo Dominici, courtesy of FreeDigitalImages.net)

A few of my friends have proudly posted pictures of their beautiful daughters all dressed up for their special night, but I find the pictures distressing. The first one was a buxom fourteen-year-old wearing an all-black dress. She was fully covered on top, but her skirt was form-fitting and very, very short. Next I saw a pretty, slender girl in a strapless, jeweled gown. Not to say that any strapless dress is sufficient covering (by the standards of many Christian parents), but this dress was so poorly fitted that it covered even less than expected. It came down far lower than it should have, so that the entire viewing public was within an nth of seeing that which was designed for feeding her babies. (See, I could make a crack right here about how she’s liable to have some pretty soon, too, if she keeps going out dressed like that, but I’m too classy. ;-)) Another shot showed a girl in a white mini-dress, leaning back against a tree with her arms thrown over her head, doing an excellent job of looking sultry and provocative. Parents post these pictures, and their friends chime in, “Get the shotgun, Daddy!” and other such statements that are meant to be complimentary. But these are not compliments to a young girl’s loveliness. These are roundabout ways of saying, “Your daughter looks very sexually attractive!” Is that what you were going for?

Oh dear, and their poor dates. Those poor, scruffy, half-grown boys who don’t even own a pair of dress shoes, and who have no idea that they will never again in their lives attract girls as beautiful as the ones they are dating right now…do you think it’s even fair to them to expect them to view that much of your daughter’s skin and not want to do more than view it? And by the way…young girls are emotional and sentimental, and sometimes they have a hard time resisting the urge to make a special occasion even more special. Why put them both in a situation where it will be sooooo much harder than usual to keep their guard up?

If it’s the custom at your daughter’s school to have a special new dress and you desire to provide one, there is nothing wrong with that. And she needn’t look like a nun. But it is not nearly as difficult as people like to pretend, to find a party dress that decently covers a young girl’s body. One excellent resource is online stores catering to LDS (Mormon) girls and ladies. I’ve decided not to list any particular sites, but simply Google “LDS Homecoming dresses” for a selection of dresses that are special and fancy, yet modest. You might also consider using the word Apostolic in your searches…or simply the word modest.

Granny Has to Move

10 Oct 2014 1 Comment

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Christian Life, Homemaking Tags: ,

sofagranny-ambro

 

(Image by Ambro, courtesy of FreeDigitalImages.net)

My husband’s grandmother has to move, and it makes perfect sense for her to do so.  She’s been a widow for–gosh, must be nearly fifteen years by now. She was always a homemaker and never learned to drive, so with her husband’s passing, the active years of her life came to a sudden halt. She’s been awfully lonely, and more so with each passing year. She hopes for visits on Sunday afternoons from one of her five children or maybe some other relative. Sometimes someone comes, sometimes not. She never has been able to sleep in a bed since her husband died,  so she catches forty winks in her recliner. She never cared to cook for just one, so she doesn’t eat very healthfully.

She’s lived in her little frame house for fifty-six years. Back then, Callaway Mills was everyone’s employer; a  strong, thriving backbone to the little community, and to hear my husband’s parents (who grew up as next-door-neighbors) tell it, the mill children might have had more fun than the rich folks. A swimming pool and skating rink were provided by Callaway, as were baseball fields. There was a grocery store in the community, and several churches in walking distance. All the neighbors worked and worshiped together, and it was a fine place to raise a family. But now the mill has been shut down for many long years, and the neighborhood is not so desirable anymore. We are not entirely sure of Granny’s safety there, and she’s certainly unable to manage any upkeep on the house or yard.

She’s declined a lot in the past couple of years. Her mind seems fine, but her hearing’s going and her arthritis leaves her nearly unable to scrawl her name on our birthday cards. She has a walker but doesn’t like to use it, so she’s taken a few falls. This last time, after she was safely rescued, her children descended on her and said Enough is enough. We’re not asking you, we’re telling you. It’s time to move.

We’d tried for years to encourage her to move, but she would have none of it. She called her husband by his nickname, Sleepy, and she would say, “Sleepy left me here and this is where I’m staying.” This was sentimental talk, of course, and we pointed out rather bluntly that Sleepy wasn’t coming back and would want her to be somewhere secure.  She wouldn’t hear of it. But this last tumble must have scared her, because the kids told her she was moving and she simply agreed and put the matter into their hands. They will handle the sale of her house, the moving of her belongings, the getting rid of what needs to go, and the transferring of utilities. And she is a very blessed lady to have a place to go! Only a few miles from her current home, my mother- and father-in-law live. And they happen to manage a small rental complex, just around the block from their house. Another of Granny’s daughters (plus an adult granddaughter) live in one of the apartments, and there’s a vacancy right next door to them. Neat as a pin, small and affordable. Perfect! We rejoice for her that while she’ll be within four new walls, all else will be familiar. The town and the faces, she knows. She can still go to familiar businesses, and see her same doctors. That should help.

GrantvilleNot every older person is so blessed. When I was a little girl, I lived in a small town, a portion of which is pictured at left. The Historic Grill in the photo was, back then, an office where my great-uncle worked. (Fans of “The Walking Dead” may recognize this scenery. The TV show is taped in my hometown.) Anyway, right next to the office was a grocery store owned by my other great-uncle (the first one’s brother). Meanwhile, a hop and a skip away, I was growing up in a house with their third brother, my great-grandfather. (And my parents.)

My great-grandfather, whom I called Poppy, was (or seemed to be) an ancient man, even when I was born. He was certainly an old-timey man, at any rate. I never saw him dress in anything but suit pants and a button-up shirt, and often a suit jacket and a hat. I never remember him walking without a cane. We lived with him in the house where he and his late wife had spent their fifty-plus years of marriage, and he spent many a day just sitting on the front porch. He would whistle to catch the attention of the occasional semi-truck driver who passed the house, only to throw up his hand in a wave to them. He explained to me that he made this gesture of kindness because the truckers got “lonesome” on the road. Poppy went to church faithfully on Sundays and and he loved to watch Lawrence Welk and Perry Mason. I believe he must have relished the independence of being able, even with his cane, to take a notion to walk downtown to the store and visit with his brothers.

But then one day his daughter came to get him. I was just a child so I am not sure why this happened. My parents had a hellishly unhappy marriage, so maybe she was removing him from unpleasant conditions. Maybe there was a disagreement of some sort. I’m not sure and there’s no one left for me to ask, so I don’t know how Poppy felt about this move. I can’t imagine it was anything other than traumatic and heartbreaking.

While his daughter had good intentions toward her father, she lived many miles away, in a larger town he didn’t know. And she lived, well, not in the country but not in walking distance of anything. She lived right off a very busy highway, and her porch was too far from the road for Poppy to wave at the truck drivers. How sad it must have been for a man in his eighties to be ripped away from everything and everyone he’d ever known. He didn’t live many years after the move.

boyslndgTo be honest with you, it was pretty difficult for my husband and me to get adjusted to life after moving to Florida in our forties. Look at that beautiful scenery! We moved to a good place but it took me a very long time to get over the feeling of being disconnected to everyone and everything I saw. There was no use scanning any crowd for old friends. There was no building or house where any portion of my life had taken place. I knew if I disappeared, nobody would realize I’d ever been here at all. It was very disconcerting. If you know any families who move far from home, keep them in  your prayers. They will tell you about all the good things, and probably won’t mention that empty feeling that they’re living a fake life. It really took a long time to get over that and begin to feel like a dual citizen of both my homes.

Some seniors may feel they won’t be around long enough to make the work of getting adjusted worthwhile. While a new home of their own or a place with family is surely better than a nursing home, I’m afraid their hearts may grieve for their real homes, and their absolute powerlessness to get back to them.

I think Granny will be okay, though. I think she’ll have many more visitors and much more activity. We, her family, are happy for her to open this new chapter in her life. And we think her beloved Sleepy would be happy, too. <3

happyoldwoman-ambro

 Image by Ambro, courtesy of FreeDigitalImages.net.

Her Feet Abide Not in Her House

27 Sep 2014 4 Comments

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Christian Life, Homemaking, Marriage, Modesty, Submission Tags:

David Castillo Dominici

(Image courtesy of David Castillo Dominici at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

It has happened again: a young girl, alone and wandering around drunk after a late-night party, has disappeared. We don’t know yet exactly what has happened to her, but we can assume it was something horrible. What a tragic thing for her and her family. I have every sympathy for them.  And yet, more and more when this sort of thing happens, I find myself thinking regretfully, “If only she had stayed at home.”

Let me stop and make a few concessions and/or admissions before I continue:

1) No one deserves to be victimized by anyone simply by being alone or being in a public place, or even being intoxicated. No one deserves it for any reason. No one is “asking for it.”

2) In my young and single days, I partied and drank in bars on a weekly basis. Generally I was with a friend, but there were occasions when I went out alone.

3) It is entirely possible to be victimized anytime, anywhere (including your own home or workplace), and even while engaged in the most innocent of activities.

All that being said, let me admit in addition that I watch an inordinate amount of true crime TV:  “Snapped,” and “Suburban Secrets” and “Deadly Women” and all such as that. I don’t make a particular point to catch these shows; I think I just wind up watching a lot of them because unlike network TV sitcoms or dramas, there is no particular premise I need to understand and no characters I have to be familiar with. I can tune in at any point and pretty much catch on to the action, so I tend to watch bits and pieces of them. As I listen to the descriptions of circumstances that lead to murders and other crimes, I again find myself noticing a pattern. Much of the time, if she hadn’t been out carousing, she’d be alive. If she hadn’t been out cheating on her husband, she’d be alive. If she hadn’t been trying to enrich herself by hurting somebody else, she wouldn’t have gotten into trouble.

We’re all just trying to feel happy, aren’t we? The latest missing girl probably just wanted to have some fun that night. I know that’s what I was doing when I was in my twenties…trying to have fun and looking for a relationship. Thankfully, nobody ever harmed me, but I can easily think of DOZENS, if not hundreds, of times when they could have. How many dark parking lots could I have been snatched from? How many times did I enter a home or a car of someone I didn’t know well enough to trust with my life? One of the main verses of scripture that constantly pops into my mind is I Timothy 5:6: “But she that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth.”

This can be applied various ways. Obviously, it does not mean “don’t have any fun or you’ll get yourself killed.” I’m not saying that. I am suggesting that if the main thing on a woman’s mind is partying, getting drunk, getting high, finding some sex, getting male attention and acquiring money or possessions, she’s on the wrong path. If you’re single and this is what you live for—you might want to rethink your priorities. If you’re married and you can hardly WAIT for the next girls’ night out, bachelorette party, or whatever social occasion takes you away from your family and out into the street to relive your more hedonistic days, you definitely need to reconsider. She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth. Your life should be about more than making yourself feel good.

I’d like to call your attention to the biblical phrase, “keepers at home.” (Titus 2:5.) This phrase is often used in connection with our more modern word, “housekeeping,” and is thought to refer to being a housewife, a stay-at-home mother, or a person who manages her home well and maintains a clean and organized house. Maintaining an orderly home is obviously a good and admirable thing to do (as opposed to, y’know, sitting around watching “Snapped.” :-) ) But I happen to think that the verse is actually stating that a good and chaste woman ought primarily to stay at home, rather than be out at the bar, the restaurant, the friend’s house, the country club, or the shopping mall.

Consider the description of the woman in Proverbs 7. She is not, you”ll note, a professional prostitute. She is a married woman, merely wearing the attire of a harlot in the episode described. (Hmm, what do you wear when you go out with your girlfriends?)  She is further described as “loud and stubborn; her feet abide not in her house.” (Emphasis mine.) There are several translations of that phrase available in the various versions of the Bible, but they all amount to the same thing: the woman described will not stay home and behave herself; she’s always out running the streets. Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible expands further on this passage with the following statement: “Her feet abide not in her house; to attend to the business of it; but she is gadding abroad to seek her lovers, and bring them in; it is the character of good women that they are keepers at home, but it is the sign of a harlot to gad abroad…”

stockimages (2)

(Image courtesy of Stockimages at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

Getting pretty radical in here now, isn’t it? I hope no feminists are reading this, or their heads may have just exploded. SURELY I’m not saying you ought to be like a prisoner in your own home, am I? Surely I’m not saying that we shouldn’t venture outside the house unescorted by a male relative. Next thing you know, I’ll be saying it’s a sin to go to the grocery store, or drop your children off at school, or go to work, for that matter, since it involves leaving the house.

Well no, I wouldn’t take it that far. But there is a bit of a difference, wouldn’t you say, in going about your normal life doing good and necessary things, and in “letting your hair down,” escaping the responsibilities of being a wife and mother, and seeking your own pleasure by going places and doing things that a Christian woman simply ought not to do.

Compared with “gadding abroad,” chances are better that you’ll be safe at home. Chances are better that, in your own home, you won’t encounter someone who either wants to harm you or lead you astray. You have liberty; of course you do. But if you search the whole Bible, I am pretty sure you won’t come up with any description of a wise woman that says, “She hangeth out with her girlfriends and drinketh margaritas.” The world thinks it’s perfectly acceptable. But Christian women have a different standard…..don’t we?

This Week Around Here

21 Sep 2014 2 Comments

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Cleaning, Decorating, Homemaking, Organizing Tags: , , , , ,

Yesterday, I suddenly realized I’d only written one post for the upcoming week. Nothing’s worse than writing under pressure and trying to develop a fairly lame idea into something worth reading, so instead I’m going to cheat and do a more personal and photo-oriented post.

First of all, in case you don’t read this whole thing, I want to tell you that I have finally gotten around to reading a book I’ve been noticing for several years: Kisses from Katie.

kisses-katie-book

 

Not many years ago, Katie Davis was a normal teenage girl from Brentwood, TN, who had a passionate desire to serve the poor. While other girls were applying to colleges, she was diligently searching for a place to volunteer. She wound up spending Christmas break of her senior year at an orphanage in Uganda (after having to beg her mother to accompany her). The experience changed her life. Though her parents were not in favor and her friends thought she had gone off the deep end, she chose Uganda over college, and moved there as soon as she finished high school, planning to teach kindergarten in an orphanage. Since then she has adopted fourteen little girls and founded Amazima Ministries, an organization that assists multitudes of destitute people. She has done all this, she says, because Jesus does not SUGGEST that we help the poor and the orphaned and widowed, he COMMANDS it. Katie believes that she cannot in good conscience do any less than she is doing, and what she’s doing is giving every ounce of herself, day in and day out. She is astonishing and you should read about her. Buy the book, or maybe you’d just like to visit blog.amazima.org to see a short video of Katie telling you about her own story.

Wow…after that I’m kind of embarrassed to even tell you what I’ve been up to. :-(

But OK, here goes. My in-laws are scheduled to come visit us next week.inlaws

They are very dear to us and we look forward to seeing them. One added benefit of their visits is that we always get a little excited and start sprucing up our home. It took me  awhile to get interested in decorating this apartment because I felt so displaced at first…plus I didn’t know how long we’d live here…plus after owning my last three homes, I felt keenly that this place wasn’t mine. But eventually it has begun to feel like home, and really we’re in no hurry to find any different housing, so we’ve been decorating.

My first order of business was to convince my husband to move several oddball, manly, framed posters that he had hung in goofy places when we first got here…when I was not myself. I’d rather banish them to some subterranean man cave that we do not currently have, but since that was not an option, we put them all on one bare wall in our dining area. It’s not ideal, but at least now I have one wall of goofiness instead of several rooms of it.

So, on our newly naked bedroom walls, we have put this:

BR walls Both the giant mirror ( which will surely decapitate us both if it ever falls), and the colorful metal birds are new. One morning I caught my cat perched on that black chair, tail switching, ready to jump up and eat one. I’m not sure if she could actually recognize them as representations of birds, but she sure seemed to!

The Kiss

I can’t manage to capture a good shot of this due to reflections, but this painting is The Kiss by Gustav Klimt. You will often see it displayed horizontally, as though the subjects were lying down. I admit it looks just as well that way, if not better, but we hung it vertically because that’s correct and because we’re all fancy and cultured like that. ;-) Oh and because we needed a picture that was taller than it was wide. (Hey…if you like this painting, I’ll put a link at the bottom of the post. You could order it from Art.com which is what we did.)

Then it was on to the living room, where there had been a blank spot over our TV for three years. We wanted something NOT rectangular,  and we hoped to find some kind of metal wall art, but we wound up with another giant mirror.     It was marked down because the paint was scratched, but that worked out fine for us because we didn’t like the color anyway. (It was originally silver, now it’s gold.)LR mirror The minute we hung it, I suddenly remembered a decorating rule that says when you hang a mirror in your home, you need to consider what it will reflect. That’s the problem, because in this case it only reflects more blank white wall. Oh well. I’m not in love with it, but it’s better than nothing.

One last picture…this is my coworker and friend Christina wearing a Lilla Rose hair clip! Christina's hair

I’m just getting started as a Lilla Rose consultant but I’m pleased that my friends have been excited to try the clips (and order some!) You can click the link in my sidebar to go to my Lilla Rose independent consultant site if you would like to look at more clips and try them for yourself.  www.lillarose.biz/sweetwaterandbitter

Excuse my shameless plugs, and have a great week! :-)

Buy at Art.com
The Kiss, c.1907
Buy From Art.com

Staying Home is Not the Hardest

20 Sep 2014 10 Comments

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Christian Life, Homemaking, Marriage, Submission Tags: , , ,

motherchild

I would love to stay at home.

Over the course of my years as a mother, I’ve done it all three ways: working full-time, part-time, and staying home. Staying home was by far the happiest, most fulfilling, most enjoyable time I’ve ever spent as a mother. I knew it was temporary, and I continued to pay my share of the household expenses by spending up the entire balance of a 401K account that had taken me twelve years to accumulate.  I have yet to regret it. Sure, I might want to retire some day, but I wanted to stay home right then, and it was a wonderful time.

I was aware, every day that year, of the luxury of time available to me. If I didn’t get to a task today–eh, well, I could do it tomorrow. There was no rush, no need to cram every possible errand into a Saturday morning. I had time to take my children where they needed to go, and time to chitchat with them. Time to sit out on the deck and watch the rain with them–you know, it rained today while I was in the office, but I couldn’t go outside and enjoy the smell of it and the feel of the breeze. My time belongs to my boss, and she doesn’t pay me to sniff raindrops.

I kept on top of the housework while I stayed home, and I was able to circulate around to several different stores to catch the grocery bargains. (That’s unthinkable to me now…my husband usually does the shopping while I stay home Friday nights to clean, but if I DO occasionally get drafted to go, after that one hour of shopping I’m totally beat, because I’m already running on fumes when I get there.) When I stayed home, I cooked for the family every night. My kids would ask me what was for dinner and I would have an answer for them. (Sometimes now my son gets a shrug.) I remember my husband remarking about how nice it was to come home and find there was nothing he needed to do. (Now he does a couple of loads of laundry every night, at least.) I joined a gym while I stayed home! They had free child care available for my little boy. Now, we have a free gym available in our neighborhood.  My son ( now twelve) asked me, this very night, didn’t we say we were going to start going to the gym? I groaned and said, “Let’s not.” Driving home and climbing the stairs is workout enough. Once I get in the door and get out of my work clothes, leaving again is not in the forecast.

I’ve been giving you a picture of my life. Granted, not everyone will experience working or staying home as I do/did. I’m sure lots of women think working full-time is a piece of cake, and they still have plenty of time and energy to do what they want in their off hours.

And I am even MORE sure that a number of SAHMs are chomping at the keyboard to tell me that their lives are not a breeze because they have ten kids, not two, and they homeschool them and live on a farm and churn their own butter and whatnot. Yes…that sounds much harder and more taxing than my stay-at-home time. But there were some choices made there, right? You did choose to have that many children, you certainly chose to homeschool them, and they do sell butter at the grocery store. I am not knocking you! God bless you in the life you chose.

If you would only stop complaining about it. That’s right…complaining. When you say, “It’s the hardest job in the world….oh, um, and the most fulfilling.” Or when you post those memes about “I work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” When you commiserate about what a sacrifice it is to stay home. When you gripe about how your baby kept you up all night or your kids have been sick for days. (Try the agony of deciding whether to send a somewhat-sick child to school or face dire consequences at your job. Try being up with that crying baby and still having to put on your dress and heels and makeup, and then sit up straight and look at little numbers on a computer all day.)   What’s worst is when you describe your job as “thankless.”

Wow, I wonder how that makes your husband feel? In my eyes, the fact that you are allowed to stay home is an extreme PRIVILEGE. Have you lost sight of the fact that it is a GIFT made possible by your husband? Thankless? How about you being a little more thankFUL? If my husband came home tomorrow and said, “Hey, guess what–why don’t you quit your job and stay home. I’ll continue to drive in rush hour to work all day every day to satisfy customers and bosses who may or may not be reasonable. I’ll deal with the stress of knowing that at any moment, if I make an error or if I  don’t perform well, they could walk in and tell me I no longer have a job. I’ll pay for the roof over your head and the food in your mouth and every stitch of clothing you wear…and if you decide you need volumizing mascara or new cushions for the sofa because you’re just no longer “feeling” the old ones, well, honey, I’ll pay for that, too. I’ll pay for your mammogram and your prescriptions, and your glasses, oh and of course your car and gas. If you want to buy a birthday gift for a friend, I’ll pick up the tab for that, even though your name will be on the card and I don’t even know her.” Etc., etc., etc.  Are you kidding me—I would fall down dead of surprise.

I realize some of you have red faces and steam coming out of your ears right now, because you are wanting to say “I DO MY SHARE AROUND HERE. I WORK TOO, and my work is just as valuable as his.” All right. No argument. But suppose you (like me) were married to a man who felt that there were two able-bodied adults in the house, so why should he carry the entire financial burden? Just imagine it for one second…a husband who believed  that whatever contributions you might make around the home would be far outweighed by those you could make as an employed financial contributor.

Please understand that I am not bashing my husband. When I think of “do unto others,” then I must consider how I would feel if HE wanted to stay home while I carried the entire load. I tried it once, by the way. We had two kids at home and I had a great, well-paying job, when his company shut down. He drew unemployment for a while, attended school, did the housework and had dinner cooked every night when I got home. My response to this was to have a literal nervous breakdown. The idea that four people were depending on me made every moment I spent at work somehow magnified in importance, leading to terrible stress. And despite the fact that my husband was keeping things up at home, I seethed with resentment over the free time he had and the relaxed pace he was living with. It wasn’t fair.

I am not proud of that, because he certainly did not treat me that way when I spent my year at home, but that’s just the difference in the sexes, I think. While I felt embarrassed to have an unemployed husband, he felt a certain amount of pride at having a wife at home. The thing is, he was not willing to pay, indefinitely, for that feeling. After a while, enough was enough, and he was more than happy to return to pitching in with the laundry and groceries and whatever else needed doing at home, in exchange for the salary I could earn.

If you are a stay-at-home wife and/or mother, then yes–of course what you are doing is valuable. But take a moment today to realize that you, too, could be married to a man who would consider a paycheck more valuable. The fact that you’re home is a gift from him to you. Be thankful.

 

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18 Years of Getting Through the Day

11 Aug 2014 5 Comments

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Christian Life, Homemaking, Uncategorized Tags: , ,

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The photo above is of my beautiful only daughter, Bliss, who is so named because that was exactly what I felt when she came into the world. I had dreamed all my life of having a little girl, and she was that precious dream come true–a gorgeous infant and then an adorable toddler. I couldn’t leave the house without strangers remarking about her. She was better than a doll come to life, and I loved being her mama. I still do.

Early childhood brought some challenges, though. I had married Brian (her step-father) and the two of them didn’t get along. Also, though her preschool teacher had felt that she was gifted, within the next few years we learned that sitting quietly and focusing on reading and writing was a near impossibility for Bliss. At the end of a day I would come to pick her up from after-school care, wanting only to hug her, but so many times, some conflict would intrude. Some misbehavior would be reported. Or if not that, we’d make it home and work our way through dinner and bath time and bedtime in a house with a man who seemed to wish this annoying kid would just go away and stop needing his wife’s attention. (Note: that’s my take on how it felt–Brian would surely express something different–and I only mention it now because they have worked out their differences and the past has been forgiven.) What I’m trying to say is that in spite of my immense love for my daughter, I wasn’t able to hold hands with her and skip through a rose-garden life. There were those extra challenges, on top of the ordinary adult responsibilities of working, paying bills, keeping the house, caring for pets, planning time with grandparents, and trying to give our marriage its fair share of attention, among other things.

Middle and high school were variations on the same theme. Though she and I both love to sing, I was never enthused about attending chorus concerts at the end of a long day. The expenditure of my time and resources for science projects and the like was so irksome. Ferrying her back and forth to drama club commitments (though the high school was just a few minutes down the road) was just an annoying pain. I want you to understand that I didn’t berate her about these things; I merely sighed and displayed my reluctance. It breaks my heart now to realize that she asked for so little and demanded absolutely nothing.

Several years ago, we decided to move to a different state. Bliss, then eighteen,  didn’t want to leave her boyfriend, and as it turned out, she had a final angry confrontation with her stepfather and unceremoniously showed up with a truck and some friends to move her things out, just days after her high school graduation. I didn’t even know that her last night at home had been her last. She and I were not angry with each other, but there was no heartfelt goodbye scene, either. I had already known she didn’t plan to move with us, and I didn’t blame her for wanting to get out of the war zone of living with Brian.  I didn’t let myself get emotional; I had enough drama already at that moment. I kissed her when she left, and that was that.

Some days after her departure, as I continued with the task of packing up the house to move and sorting through what we wanted to sell or donate, I was culling through my lifetime collection of books. I ran across my Little House books and some other ones from my childhood that had special sentimental value, and I started to cry. I had saved these books, even while I was still a child myself, with the thought of sharing them someday with my little girl.  It suddenly struck me so hard that this imaginary dream-girl had actually been born, and she had lived with me for eighteen years, and now it was all over–my time of raising her was ended, and she was gone. I didn’t remember if I had read her those books, or offered them to her. I didn’t know if she even realized they were there in the house, because I had spent eighteen years just getting through the day.

I was so wrapped up in my own to-do list. I loved Bliss–I loved her–but it had always seemed to me that my job was the main responsibility of my life–the non-negotiable thing that I had to do–followed by all those other responsibilities (including, eventually, a little brother) that had to be attended to. I had so much on my plate that I wanted only to get through the work day, get through the week, get through the winter–whatever. I was constantly focused on getting something over with, reaching some vague goal that moved away whenever I got near it.

That day on the floor of my office with the books, I realized with grief that I had truly “gotten it over with,“ the very thing I had dreamed of and looked forward to all my life: the raising of a little girl. That season of my life is finished now, and though I would give everything I have to go back and start over again–to do it differently, to do it better– I cannot have one day of it back.

KB Tenn

Bible Verse Coasters

27 Jul 2014 1 Comment

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Decorating, Homemaking Tags: , ,

These are coasters that I made recently for a friend’s birthday.

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Each one includes a Bible verse containing the word JOY, because that’s her name.

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This was my first attempt, but they were very easy to make. The porcelain tiles cost 16 cents each, from Lowe’s. The music notes all came from one piece of scrapbook paper from Michael’s. The Bible verses were just printed on regular typing paper in the font of my choice.  There are numerous tutorials online which can show you exactly how to do this, but basically I used a little foam brush to smear some Mod Podge (Please note that this is NOT pronounced “Modge Podge.” I don’t care what everybody says.) all over the tile and stick the papers to it and to each other. Then, when each one had been coated with several layers of Mod Podge, I took them outdoors (very important!) and sprayed them with Mod Podge Acrylic Sealer, which smells horrific and produces terrible fumes, so don’t even consider doing this inside.

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I stuck on the little rubber feet that can be bought at Michael’s or Lowe’s, among other places. Some people use cork or felt, but this was the easiest way, though probably the most expensive. Once complete, I tied them up with a black ribbon and had a personalized handmade gift. I could make you some, if you’d like. Any color, any text, name, initials, picture, whatever! $10 should cover it. You’re welcome to email me at sweetwaterandbitter@gmail.com.

 

My Laundry Area Makeover

27 Jul 2014 2 Comments

by Sweet-Water-and-Bitter in Decorating, Homemaking, Organizing, Uncategorized Tags: , , ,

Since our move to Florida in 2011, our family has lived in an apartment. While I have not done many projects here because we’ve never been sure how long we’d stay, one thing that I really couldn’t tolerate was our junky, cluttered laundry area.

BEFORE:

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All that stuff on the top shelf made me crazy, and the stuff on the dryer bothered me as well. So…. just a few changes brought us to this:

AFTER:

IMG_0251 We rigged a curtain rod to hang down from the ceiling. It doesn’t go all the way over to the opposite wall…the water heater hides over there. But it covers the part that most anybody would ever see. (Curtain from Wal-Mart.)

IMG_0253The two lined baskets came from Michael’s, and my biggest score was the FRAMED laundry room prints from Hobby Lobby. They were just a few bucks each, marked down from $40! The fact that I found this stuff at different places but in coordinating colors was just a bonus! :-) Now my laundry area is neat and put-together, without having to make any expensive permanent changes.

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