Day 16 Stranded on the Isle of Unemployment

The emotional barometer is rising. We inhabitants roam the house aimlessly. The adults keep silence as much as possible, while the children play out our inner feelings in their violent games. It's incredible how children can tap into the darkest corners of their parent's psyche. I can't help but snap at them for their disturbances when I'm analyzing our bank account.
Our bank account. Once it flowed like a shining river of abundance. Now it sits, a stagnant pool with a gushing leak, gushing like my tears. We can only hope that there will at least be some damp algae left by the time we find a new river to feed our endless hunger for power tools, furniture, pad thai, and perishable goods.
As I face the barren wasteland, I realize that we ourselves are the truly perishable goods. If I could put aside my pride I might admit that we aren't even so good. Maybe we're just perishable bads. Two thirty-somethings plodding through the American life, one begging to write functional clumsy code for food, one trying to redefine motherhood into something stylish yet heroic.
See, the stress has damaged me already. I've digressed into my adolescent melodrama. I'm chewing on my fingers. Good grief woman, there's still a closet full of cereal over there, pull yourself together!
There is an end in sight; Isaac has been told he will have a job offer by the end of the week. Pray he can start work soon, or I may go mad and take him with me.

Gypsy Goal Setting

Three years ago, Isaac and I were celebrating our third anniversary. It had been a whirlwind so far, with Isaac finishing college, me having a honeymoon baby, then having a 'surprise' second baby. We had moved five times, ending up in a nice little rental house close to my family and Isaac's new job.
I set three goals at that time. I was determined that the next three years would be tranquil. My goals were that we would celebrate our sixth anniversary with the same number of kids (2), live in the same house, and Isaac would have the same job.
As of Monday, we have failed at every one of those goals.
I remember feeling, as I proclaimed these goals, that I might be sealing some sort of fate for us. Like I was inadvertently rousing some demon to cause the opposite to happen. Failing the first two goals was really more like winning, though. Our baby girl has brightened our family immensely, and we love our big beautiful house in The Dalles.
As for Isaac losing his job, I feel strangely optimistic. Like it's an adventure. Perhaps we were getting too comfortable, too laxidasical in our middle-class lifestyle. It's time to shake things up, test our mettle. This is all easy to say, when it's only been three days and I haven't yet seen what the COBRA premium will be.
The moral of this story is, don't set goals. Not really. Keep setting goals, even big ones for the distant future. That way you won't be surprised, whether you achieve the goal or the opposite. And summoning demons is fun.

Children of a future Tyrant

General Conference was a wonderful reminder last weekend. My spirit is feeling stronger, and I feel more motivation to crack open the scriptures or to sit down at the piano for a few hymns. I want to learn how to remember that I am loved. It doesn't come naturally for me.
My baby is walking all over the world now. She ran away from me in a store and hid. She rides on a little toddler riding toy outside. She attacks my legs. She walks this way and that, all around the house with something cute to do. Pretty baby girl with a baby monster side.
D, the 3-year-old, has been having serious insecurity issues for months now. It starts in the morning, crying and unrealistic demands and his parents just want to sleep safe from the world. I hug him a lot, tell him I love him a lot, praise him a lot, and discipline him consistently. Eventually, this should work on him.
A is being an easy child. He draws his pictures, plays out his explosives and super hero fights, and asks to play computer games. Isaac told someone that he wants A to grow up to be a gamer, and I screamed in anguish.
I would rather my babies grow up to be cowboys than stunt their progress completely with video games. I may very well disown a child who tells me they want to make video games for a career. I hope that this is the only instance in which i can be called a tyrannical mother.

Succulents

Mmm, succulents... squishy moisture-filled leaves, growing in ceramic pots, the foliage overflows down the sides searching for sand... mmmm, tasty...

It's raining. Rain feels good after a long bout of sunshine. I was a bit disappointed that I had to be watering some of my plants this early, so I'm happy to receive this rain.
Baby pea plants are as cute as any baby in the animal kingdom. Mine look fabulous.
I had a chance this weekend to open my home to a friend who seemed to need some uplifting. It feels wonderful to serve beyond my everyday chores.
So far, for my garden, I have bought phlox, dahlias, clematis, astilbe, and black columbine. I am often surprised at how strongly I feel the need to make pretty things. Then I wonder why that seems wrong. Must be my inner child.

It's been a month. Oh dear. I haven't even written in my journal much. What is it that makes me balk at writing words?
I have spent a lot of money at Costco lately. I have spent a lot of time just sitting around with my kids, especially the baby. She has been needy a lot. Isaac has been working late at times and going to meetings for his calling at church. My computer is falling apart.
I have been able to do a good amount of work in my yard. Moved a big pile of very heavy rocks, used them for borders and such.
D is kicking me in the side, so I'm going to stop trying now.

Gushing

Doesn't want to talk about it. Just wants to eat it. Funny how having offspring is like watching the movie of your childhood over again sometimes.
The truth will set you free, but it won't let you move people around like pawns.
Food is supposed to grow on trees, not out of a credit card.
When all else fails, feel sleepy, and you have an excuse to get away with anything.
Sometimes a miracle comes in disguise. Sometimes it comes in a decorative bag. Sometimes it looks like an insurmountable boulder. It may taste like vitamin D. I like the time when God's love was made apparent to me in the form of an abandoned pear orchard. It was delicious. The trees got chopped down, but i can still feel the orchard. It's like angels.