hail the new, ye lads and lasses (but mostly lasses)

So I mentioned (for the zero people who keep minute track of all the things I say in blog posts, and are keeping score between my multiple personalities) that I was going to do a list of things, resolutions or something of that general nature, for the New Year. To make my life better so I'm happier and can deal with life with IF.

(By the way, a post on the kitchen is coming. Also, we're going to go see the house in the daylight on Thursday morning. This could actually happen!)

Oh also, you need to read this. OK, so here goes:

(1) At least once a week, I'm going to walk to morning Mass in English (7AM, 1.09 miles from my house). I hope to work that up to daily eventually.
(2) I'm not going to stay up past 1AM on a work night ever, and I will try to be in bed by 11:30.
(3) At least once a month, I will make an hour of Adoration. I hope to work that up to weekly.
(4) Every day I will say at least one very brief prayer to my saint for 2010, who is Catherine Laboure. I've never known much about her, so this will be a good opportunity to learn. (Apparently I have been very unfair the blogger who kindly drew saints of the year, as several commenters, more diligent than I, have explained. I should have known that I would be the one who screwed up.)
(5) I will give up on getting Fr. Paul to call me back about a spiritual director. I will contact a different pastor, by email, and ask where to get a spiritual director. If that doesn't bear fruit, I will give up entirely.
(6) I will go on a retreat with my husband in the first half of the year.
(7) I will eat more protein, cut way down on workplace candy, and stop bingeing on food. I will be conscientious about discerning what foods mess up my stomach, and I won't eat them.
(7.5) I will drink a lot more water.
(8) I will go to the gym three days every work week. I will increase my weights and times. At least once a week, I'll run three miles on the treadmill.
(9) I will run at least one 5k and one 10k with my husband.
(10) I will get all my dental work done in 2010. And I will have a doctor look at the rest of my moles and do any biopsies before the new health care bill goes into effect.
(11) I will find someplace in the area to do some sort of charity work for the poor or needy, at least once a month.
(12) I will read a non-law-related book for fun at least once a month.
(13) I will pack my lunch for work. If I fail to pack my lunch, I will not eat lunch.

I may have to come back and edit this with things I left off.

I'm also going to do something else, which I think will really help. I have a constant sense of apathy and failure about my life. I know that with projects, studying, whatever I've had to do, I am motivated by accomplishment - if I see I'm doing well, I work harder and feel better. So I'm going to make a big poster with blocks for each week. I'll designate star or smiley-face stickers for each goal that's periodic, and I'll mark the weeks and months in which I've accomplished them. Maybe I'll even find a way to do a virtual version of this, too.

P.S. I'm going to do a year retrospective, but I'm going to wait a few more days until my year blogoversary on January 2!

tales from 1928

So I mentioned that I spent much of Christmas at a monastery. (My husband's brother and uncle are monks.)

We always meet the most lovely people when we stay at the monastery, a wide assortment from every generation and part of the country (and other countries), who are visiting for every sort of reason. So on one afternoon I was having a chat with my father-in-law (who is highly opinionated) and another woman around his age named Joe Therese (Joe for Josephine). He made a remark about Italians to get a rise out of her, assuming (based on her name) that she was Italian. She turned out to be Irish, but she explained the origin of her name.

Her mother and father, she said, had been praying and praying for a kid - but no kid showed up. They had seen every doctor, and were losing hope; it had been five years. Now, I was surprised when my 60yo aunt said that she took clomid to conceive my 32yo cousin - I had assumed clomid was a new thing. But this woman was not talking about 32 years ago. What "every doctor" was there? What nonsense did the medical profession offer infertiles in generations past? I hope her poor mother didn't have to suffer through an HSG.

Anyway, she explained, her parents went to St. Therese's shrine in Chicago, and promised that if they had a baby, they would name her Therese. And Joe Therese came along not long after.

It was all I could do to restrain myself from asking exactly how old she was. I was dying to know. (I also wanted to know whether they later had any other kids.) But the next day, when the conversation surrounded my FIL's 72nd birthday, it came out that she's 81. More than 81 years ago, an infertile Catholic couple in Chicago had been ttc for five years. They'd seen "all the doctors," who could offer them no help, and they turned to St. Therese for a miracle.

I know Abraham and Sarah went through this rather longer ago than that, but the connection to a world I think of as mine only (well, you know, and yours too) was still a bit of a revelation to me. I don't suppose the St. Therese angle is going to help anyone - I don't know of any Catholic infertiles who haven't already prayed a novena or twenty for a baby. (And those poor kids...Gerard Gianna Anne Therese John Paul Joseph Jude is going to rue the day his parents saw two pink lines.)

But I thought I would share this small, strange gem, from her world to mine, and from mine to yours.

Teddy Roosevelt and the Ghostly Mistletoe

The day after Christmas Granny, Atley, and I went to the Kennedy Center to watch a performance of "Teddy Roosevelt and the Ghostly Mistletoe." It is a true story written by Teddy's daughter Ethel set in 1905 at the White House. This year Ethel's dad decided to set a good example to the country by not having a Christmas tree. Apparently, he was afraid that if everyone cut down a tree every Christmas we would run out of trees rather quickly. But, Ethel's older brother Kermit sneaks one into the White House. At first they try to hide the tree from their father than the little brother Archie suggests that they should haunt him like in a Christmas Carol to convince him to allow a tree. Of course the President knew that his children were responsible for the ghosts all around the White House but he plays their game and they get to keep their tree. Atley had a great time only partially marred by the fact that we thought our van had been stolen after the performance. We even got the police involved until we realized that we had just lost it in the maze of underground parking under the Kennedy Center. Just a little embarrassing!

Christmas 2009




SPOILED! What more can I say! Atley's favorite part of Christmas, "Opening all those presents!" Nash's favorite part of Christmas, "Eating all those chocolate candies!"
Because we still had over a foot of snow on the ground Christmas Day, Granny's Christmas present to the boys wasn't fully enjoyed until the 27th, unfortunately Granny was also gone by then so she did not get to see the fruits of her labors. The 27th is when we could actually set up the trampoline and it was warm enough for them to enjoy it and of course enjoy it they did!

Christmas Eve

We spent Christmas Eve decorating cookies and building both edible and non-edible Gingerbread men. The boys than opened their "ONE" present which of course was pajamas and was very very disappointing for them both. But, they put them on anyway and put on a program for the family, which was quite entertaining. Atley preformed a "rockin" version of Santa Claus is Comin' to Town and Nash sang Jingle Bells. Nash did a great job but Atley who was the MC or should I say stand-up-comic-wanna-be got up after Nash's song and said to the crowd, which consisted of me, Scott, and Granny, "Let me hear it guys! Did that guy suck or what?" Santa shouldn't have visited him at that point, but of course he did anyway. Luckily, Nash didn't hear and survived to sing another day.



ICE


Granny came for Christmas and after we picked her up at the airport we headed to the Gaylord Resort on the Potomac. They presented this huge ICE display, complete with hundreds of scultures and four slides made of ice. The temperature inside was on 9 degrees so Nash was pretty unhappy at first, but he finally began to enjoy himselves. And, yes the fashionable blue parkas were provided!







Christmas

"Those who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone."


I love Christmas Mass at midnight, especially in Polish, especially with koledy. (And I've never seen a Polish church in the US yet that isn't magnificent.)

Christmas is, of course, for everyone, and the first Christmas for those awaiting the Messiah; but I can't help thinking that those words were written especially for us infertiles.

I thought about Mary and her one (divine) child, when other Jewish women had so many. And about the point another blogger just made - that at the circumcision, she knew she would have to GIVE HIM BACK. I used to think about that all the time, in discernment for the religious life. (I had forgotten.) I had blessings that I might have to relinquish. When I got married I stopped thinking about it. That was silly. Sometimes the blessing you most anticipate is the one you have to return.

At Christmas Mass, I told God that if His will was that I should never have children, then I could carry that cross; and I really meant it. He'll have to fix everything else I need - and the list is long - but I can carry that.

In news of far smaller import, the tamoxifen appears to have fixed my cycle completely - it's totally normal. Looks like today or tomorrow will be peak day. My husband has decided that he doesn't want to hope for a baby at all (or even think of anything as a "fertile" phase), but I managed to convince him to give today a shot.

I won't hope in two weeks to miss anything. I won't be surprised or even displeased when I get my period (unless the cycle is messed up - again). I don't consider us cycling or ttc; I'm checking off treatment obligations until I get to retire permanently. But today, TODAY I thought fondly about the idea of conceiving something. (And about how amusing it would be to conceive a child on Christmas day at a monastery...)

I know that hope on peak day and fatalism later is not quite the standard infertile thought pattern. And they say the definition of insanity is being able to hold two contradictory ideas in your head at the same time. But that's OK. I don't think I'm undermining my conviction that I'll never switch teams; and living childless in the fertile world will still mean negotiating a delicate peace. I'm mostly ready for resignation, but not dealing with fertiles well full time.

But today, I can think, it's whatever God wants. He has secrets He's not telling. And today, I'm OK with that.

Favorite Christmas Books

Ever notice how so many so-called heartwarming holiday books make you want to jump off of a cliff? It's like they are written to make you feel guilty about being happy at Christmas time. I love to read books set around the Christmas Season. But who wants to be depressed reading about an underprivileged boy whose mother is dying of Cancer and all he wants to do is buy her some new shoes for her to meet Jesus. Yeah, that's right life is sad enough, why read fictional stories that make it sound even more horrible. No, "CHRISTMAS SHOES" for me. But, here are some of my favorite Christmas books. A couple I read for the first time this year and a couple are Christmas Classics in my opinion. I promise they won't make you feel depressed or guilty, just happy and thankful for this joyous season and the wonder of childhood.




failure

I know I like to project as pretty tough about infertility. It's the approach I prefer - that I'm stronger than this bull$%&#. And maybe most of the time I am. But every once in a while, something comes along to remind me that I am, in Alanis Morisette's words - well, you know. Not entirely brave.

I got a very unexpected phone call the other day - unexpected like after the caller introduced himself, I still thought he was someone else, and tried to pass off the call to my husband. It was a dear friend from college. He and I dated for eight months; we broke up when we were both in discernment for the religious life. I ultimately went to a very Catholic law school. He ultimately went to a very very strict religious order. He's taken his final vows. (So have I!) He'll start major seminary soon - it's been years and he's been doing lots of stuff, but he hasn't been ordained yet. Anyway, I rarely ever see him. Six months after he entered, and I started law school, I did see him at the March for Life. He was happier than I had ever seen him and I was so happy to see that he had finally found home.

When I say strict, anyway, I don't just mean that they don't have internet, cell phones, or even a land line. I mean that even the order doesn't have any possessions. So they don't own any land. Or buildings. Or even food. They beg for their food. They live where people will let them stay. Or outside. If they need to go somewhere (say, 1500 miles), they walk. People do give them rides, but if not - then they walk. So you see, it's not like he texts or sends gchat messages. That's the first phone call I've gotten from him in well over six years. (He sends letters, and I, on an extremely delinquent schedule of which I am ashamed, send letters back.) Anyway, he found out through mutual friends that my husband and I (with my husband's family) and he (with his order) will be within 30 miles over Christmas - and another friend from college, along with his wife and their two kids (yes, of course, they got married after we did. You had to ask?). So we should get together.

OK, so, my husband and my friend have never met, so that will be interesting, and I admit to the odd bit of nerves in case there is a genuinely serious case of not getting along. I love my husband, but easygoing is only sometimes his thing. And my friend is (was?) a handful too. Actually, they have more in common with each other than either of them has with me. Of course, this is also true of my husband and my father, and that went so well that my father literally (and I use this word in its dictionary sense) did not speak to me (with one two-minute exception) for three years after we got engaged. Have I mentioned that? Yeah, it's true. My nineteen-year-old brother gave me away at my wedding. I didn't meet my smallest baby brother until he was two. Anywho...

But since that conversation, I've been jumping out of my skin with nerves. When I think about seeing these people, I want to puke. Who is this? This isn't me. What do I have to prove? And to whom? What's wrong with me?

And I've thought about it. I am trying to figure out what on earth is driving me crazy, why I would rather my car explode in fiery inferno en route to New England than see a bunch of really wonderful priests I have always loved. I'm not sure I have it all sorted out. But I have some ideas.

First of all, my friend's wife (Irish girl from Boston. No doubt the genuine article. Probably gorgeous. And thinner than I am. With a baby on the hip. And I bet she DOESN'T HAVE ENDO!), I have never met. I hate her...now. This girl is probably an angel. (Not so yours truly...arguably I was in college...) I have run through all sorts of horrible conversations with her in my mind, in which she says something hateful and dismissive about infertiles, and I tell her that she's ungrateful for her blessings from God and her children will consequently go to Hell, or something. I get quite passionate about these imagined conversations. I was almost crying in the Trader Joe's. (Sanity check: still missing and unaccounted for.)

But this girl I have never met, who must be the eleventy millionth Catholic mother of two I know of who was married after me and seriously what do I even care any more, is obviously not the problem. What's the problem?

Well, I guess my friend is the omega point of all the values I used to have (and, um, several that I never had). If I had a beautiful family and were a long-skirt-wearing doe-eyed Catholic girl in childlike awe of all the religious - this is what I expected to become, mind you - I would be fine. I wouldn't be intimidated, I would be looking forward to meeting this girl and introducing our kids, and the idea of getting special blessings for my babies from some friars would probably be foremost on my mind.

But by my own standards - by my hopes and dreams for my life - I have failed. Not just because I don't have the babies. (They would help - they would help with most things.) But because of all that that's engendered. By the end of law school I had stopped saying three Rosaries a day. Then I stopped saying any. In the last year I finally stopped going to daily Mass. For a while I was reading the Magnificat, but I stopped caring. The prayers started to be annoying rather than speaking to me. I intend to start going to daily Mass again, but I need an angle on that that will work, first, and I don't have one. I'm bitter, still, if getting better. I'm angry with God, still, if growing merely distant. I'm not passionate about my job and I would have a hard time explaining that I'm really doing God's work. My husband, whom I love, periodically claims not to believe in God. (I know it isn't true, but he does say it. And he's not much of a spiritual leader of the household right now. I could really, really use that, but it's not available.) I don't know where I'm going in my life. My sister is doing well, my brother is doing well materially, and everyone else in my family is a complete ruin and arguably getting worse, rather than better.

You know, I don't feel as though my life is a disaster. I actually feel reasonably good - you know, for me. But I can't think of a single question he could ask me (he is unlikely to ask, "Where did you get that scarf?") for which I could offer an answer that wouldn't cause him to make a face I'd want to hit.

I DON'T feel like my marriage is a failure. I love my husband. He's a good man, and he loves me and takes care of me. My marriage, while not perfect, is one of the few obvious and consistent blessings in my life. My devotional life is absolute crap, but I am trying. I feel like I am doing my best. I don't have holy serenity about my infertility, but for heaven's sake. There are quite literally women out there with PTSD symptoms when they hear children crying. I am a survivor. That's my biggest achievement - life pounds on me an awful lot, and I just keep getting back up. That right there is an olympic accomplishment. So why can't I think of anything good to say about my entire life? Why do I feel as though everything I've ever done has been entirely wasted?

Singing Slips and Holiday Magic

We love Christmas music at our house and both of the boys love to sing. But, sometimes they don't get all of the words right. We had a lot of time to listen to them sing over our snowy weekend and this is what we heard.

Atley's Version of Deck the Halls:
Deck the Halls with Balls of Holly
Fa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa
Tis' the season to be naughty
Fa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa Wa
Call we now all hidden Pharaohs

Nash's Version of Frosty the Snowman:
(please note the reading program at Atley's school is entitled Jolly Phonics)
Frosty the Snowman was a
Jolly Phonics Boy

Atley's Version of Silent night:
Silent Night, Holy Night....
Sleep in Heavenly Fears
Sleep in Heavenly Fears.

Trust me, they are not even trying to be funny they actually think that is what these songs say!

Before we were stranded in our house for four days due to the blizzard of the century we, along with Uncle Jeff who was visiting from Georgia, took the boys to the U.S. Botanic Gardens where they have a special Christmas display called Holiday Magic. It is essentially a fairyland with many types of trains and carved wooden houses and figures. It was beautiful and worth the wait. Sorry that some of the pictures are not the best. We forgot the camera and used Scott's phone.


the library

It's time. By the way, did I mention that the tan house just went back on the market - no longer under contract? I told you so. Of course, that means we have to move faster, but after Christmas is, I think, time enough to start getting quotes for mortgage rates and so forth. (It may be hard to get the sellers to take a reasonable price, so we could still lose it, but we plan to try.)

So, here's the current family room in the tan house (my future library):


On the left you see what appears to be a bar. So you'd expect that there'd be shelves and so forth on the other side of it (which you can't see in the picture), but I didn't see any in person. Having a bar sounds nice-ish, but I'd probably rather just buy an antique dry sink and not take up so much floor space with this one (especially since we don't drink). But it turns out that the bar (if that's what it is) is actually there to conceal the rather odd feature behind it:


Best guess is that there were Bilco doors to the basement. When they built the addition (the family room is a one-story addition) they put it over where the doors were so...they just used an interior door, horizontally, in that space. Slightly insane. I'd still be inclined to remove that bar thing, and just put some ordinary stair-rail along the edge of the door. That would be more normal, and still take up less floor space. (We might even be able to fit a dry sink between the stair-door and the wall!)

Other than that oddity, the basic features of the room are straightforward. There's a working wood stove (very excited about that). There are several (large) windows, and there's a large, mostly-glass exterior door, which limits the amount of wall space for bookshelves (but I think there's still enough!). Oh, and coat hooks are useful, but these are going somewhere else - bookshelves come first.


There's wood crown molding and wood lattice-work on the ceiling. They're not as pretty as they might be, but they're sort of dry wood, and I think with some varnish, and a real warm ivory on the ceiling, it might look a lot nicer. So that's an easy fix.

Now for the first tricky part: the walls. It's not easy to tell, but that's not your standard shiny grooved knotty-pine paneling. Indeed, those are individual boards, with decent-sized gaps between them (I'm not actually that keen on that part), and they're not only unfinished, but also un-planed. If you run your hands down them, you could get a splinter, or twenty. So to get them to look like an ordinary wall, it would require heavy sanding, or removing them, planing them, and replacing them - and then using wood filler between, priming, and painting them (so they look like plaster walls).

But I'm not keen on that much sanding or planing, and the room has a certain rustic quality that I think ought to be preserved. (Doesn't mean I want wood trim, wood floors, and wood walls, all in different wood tones.) So I was looking into an old-fashioned technique called lime wash, traditional in Europe, which is used for plaster (not drywall) and raw wood. It's apparently easier than any of the new-fangled techniques - and it's not a "faux finish," it's the real thing. Plus really safe. Anyway, plain lime wash is transluscent white, and comes out like this:


You can also add pigment to lime wash, and that's one of the places I was stumped. I definitely want color (something light). Green? Blue? Maybe a gray-blue like this (obviously this is ordinary opaque paint, not transluscent):


But I'm not sure. What's the best way to go about this? I like the crown molding, ceiling, and floors (with a little spiffing-up here and there), but I really want to do something with the walls. Suggestions??

Now for the rest of the decor. We have a red-brown leather, reasonably traditionally-styled sectional that is a few years old (we got it off craigslist) but maybe the comfiest couch ever. I think it should go in there. I also think that room would be a good place for a decent-sized desk. I've run some different pictures by my dh. (I'd like to note here that while I never give him a decor decision to make from scratch, I compile a substantial cast of style options that would work within our budget and other things, and I make him give me his opinion. So I don't make these decisions unilaterally.) Rolltops seem to be the most practical and popular. Here are a couple on craigslist in our area (little pricey, but we have time):


(This cherry one above is the favorite, but it's selling for $600! My dh - typically - said, "Well, maybe that's worth it.")


Then there's always the traditional oak roll-top look.

I also think I've come up with a solution to my household's ever-green desk chair debate. My dh likes the comfy contemporary black leather desk chairs. I would rather something that looked old fashioned even if it's not as comfy. Last house we had an ugly black vinyl one. Now we have a petite wood one he doesn't like. But I think we could have both! Something like this (with a nice fluffy pillow):


Or (likely even more popular) something like this (I found a slightly less ornate one that's a real antique on craigslist recently, but it's already gone):


I think that would be good because it could be moved away from the desk when we have people over and be used as extra seating. And we could have some nice leather chairs on either side of the fireplace. Perhaps like these:


Here's the other difficult question: what about bookshelves? I mean, there have to be quite a few. In my head, the ideal library should have floor-to-ceiling built-ins, maybe even some that require a library ladder! As below. (No library ladder in the tan house, though, because the ceiling in this room is not that high.)


There are a few impediments to putting these sort of shelves in this room, however. First, one wall is taken up by two windows and a wood stove. The wall to the right of that has a very big picture window and a door; it could have one set of shelves or maybe two, and above-the window shelves. The wall with the doorway into the kitchen has room for at least one set of shelves (where those coat hooks now are). Most of the shelves would go on the fourth wall. Keeping in mind dark wood trim (shinier after I varnish it) and lime-washed walls (color still undecided), do I go for stained wood shelves (like the ones above), or white-painted wood? Like so, perhaps:


I like the idea of built-in bookshelves creating a nook for a window seat. This room certainly has enough windows for that. But I can't decide what bookshelf solution would look best for this room. I need your help. (Oh, also useful to know is that a friend of ours has a fellow who's a master carpenter who's a recent immigrant and has done some work for him at crazy-good rates - and I've seen the stuff he did, it's perfect. This fellow could definitely build me some bookshelves if I wanted anything that wasn't easy enough for me to do.)

The other thing that occurred to me is that I could fill the room with a collection of antique bookshelves, and do something to unify the look. One thing that designers often do is to whitewash a series of mistmatched antique items (such as dining room chairs). I do have two wooden Ikea bookshelves that I wouldn't mind painting white to blend in with some antiques, but other than that, I would feel bad painting lovely hardwood. What do you think? Could I make this idea work?

I did stumble across one possible angle this morning. I love barrister bookcases. I could do a collection of those. Even completely unrelated examples seem like they would go together pretty well:


(These are both for sale on craigslist here, now.) Barrister bookcases are also modular - the shelves come apart, and the tops and bases are separate, too. So we could put short stacks under some of the windows, or I guess mount one or two over the windows, or vary the heights if we liked that effect; and we could collect them over time. Here's the trouble, though. Although I'd love to have one barrister bookcase, I hadn't envisioned having a collection of them - because they're very expensive. Best price on a full (4- or 5-shelf) set I've seen is around $500. I'm not sure I could justify a room full of them at those prices.

Oh, also, the room will need a rug. I like this one a lot (I like that it's muted):


So I have some general ideas of how I want it to look, and things I want to do with the room (fire, bookshelves, desk for stationery and to hide laptops in, comfy place for guests to sit around), but I'm still not exactly sure how to get there. I'm sure nobody has anything else to do five days before Christmas and during a massive snowstorm, so you all can help me with your brilliant ideas.

Merry Christmas, infertiles. May you be blessed with all the grace sufficient to your situation - and plenty of extra, too.

And it's still snowing...

Here are some pics of what weathermen are calling the storm of the decade along the Mid-Atlantic!





So far we have more than two feet and we are supposed to get at least an additional ten inches tonight. Church has already been cancelled and Atley is hoping that it will stay cold enough for school to be cancelled on Monday as well. We have had a great time playing outside and we are thankful for our Eagle Scout who has managed to keep the fire stoked and warm most of the day. We made literal "snow" cones with Kool-Aid and sugar this afternoon, which the boys thought was the most awesome thing ever. We are thankful to still have power and to be among the lucky few who bought our food before the store shelves were completely empty.