The view from here

The fatigue I wrote about nearly two months ago is still with me, thus mostly explaining the neglect of my blog--especially since spring break is over and I have responsibilities to fit in around my nap schedule.  

I did finally break down and call the doctor, but I'm skeptical that will provide answers, since I have nothing more helpful to say than, "I'm tired."

The primary suspect in many people's minds is residual effects of Lyme disease...though I felt better before now, and the doctor believed once it's gone, it's gone.  

If it's Lyme, that is so not cool.

Of course, I could just be getting old.  If 35 isn't over the hill, it's at least the crest.  Besides, in mom-years I'm 135, which is more like how I feel.

We celebrated Jason's birthday with an overnight stay on the mountains, which was absolutely wonderful.

the love of my life!

The first day was so very, very cold!  We did our sightseeing by car, jumping out at the overlooks only long enough to take a selfie or two before running back to the car, which was rocking in the wind.

The next day was a balmy 30 degrees.

The site of Jason's proposal, 13 years ago--minus the thunderstorm this visit.

Jeddy hit 70 pounds at last--heavy enough to mow the lawn.

Jason often works from home--one day this week he worked alongside us as we did our schoolwork.

Weeks ago when I was on spring break and thinking I was normal and healthy, I signed up to run a 5K, after which I promptly descended into chronic fatigue.  Keeping my children fed and dressed took priority and training petered out in favor of just making it through the day.


Today was that 5K.

The following picture from just before the finish line makes me look a whole lot more athletic and fast than I really am.  So I might frame it.

Here I am in astonished euphoria that I survived it.

Aaaaand here I am a few minutes later.

It got uglier from there, so Jason stopped taking pictures and ordered dinner instead.

Also there were free carousel rides.

I'm thankful for the Lord's mercy in giving us a Sabbath day tomorrow.  I hope fatigue doesn't plague me for the rest of my life, but He is my greater hope.

Deep thoughts

Deep thoughts from Caleb in the back seat, on the way to get ice cream:


"I like ice cream."  Pause.  "I don't like naps, though.  Naps are bo-wing."

The resurrection cookie project has continued to enhance Caleb's understanding of Easter even after the fact.  The next week in children's church they had some kindergarteners acting out the women arriving at the tomb.


Teacher:  The stone was rolled away and what did they find inside??


Caleb:  Cookies!


When I helped him with his craft afterward, he showed me the sticker depicting the tomb with a dark, gaping hole and told me, "That's the oven."


Total.  Comprehension.

It's tough for a little person.  On Maundy Thursday we attended a communion service at church.  The congregation shared a potluck meal, sang hymns together, heard a message, and observed communion, all at family-style round tables.  After we had eaten and sung the first hymn, Caleb asked audibly, "Now cake?"


With that many people in the room, surely it was somebody's birthday, and why else would we sing after a meal?  He was in for another disappointment.

Me:  "That's a nice digger!"
Caleb: "I'm glad you like it."

How to teach children about Easter

We made Resurrection Cookies on Good Friday.

The kids didn't know what that meant, but they were eager to be involved.

First each kid got to crush a bag of peanuts by beating it with a heavy tool--just like Jesus was beaten by the soldiers.

The beating was followed by a splash of vinegar (like what they gave Jesus to drink on the cross) and a pinch of salt (like the salty tears Jesus shed).  Then we added several egg whites (new life!) and a load of sugar (the sweetness of Jesus' love).


We whipped the egg whites until they were white as snow--representing pure holiness--and mixed in the nuts--which became covered with the egg whites, as Jesus' holiness covers our sin.  Then we dropped mounds onto a cookie sheet--each one representing the rocky tomb where Jesus was laid.


Finally, we put the cookies in the oven and "sealed" the door with tape--as Jesus' tomb was sealed and kept under guard.

Then, we waited.


For three days.  (The oven was off.)


At this point, when the cookies were sealed up in their "tomb," Caleb started to cry.


As I guessed he would be, he was forlorn and didn't understand...just like the disciples.

The evening of Good Friday we went to a 7:00 service at church--a very hard time for little people to sit still and quiet.  Caleb spent his time crucifying Christ anew via the bulletin while giving me an audible commentary on it.

"I poked a hole in His thumb!"

Every ten minutes all weekend, Caleb remembered and mourned for his cookies.  As often as he did, we reminded him how sad Jesus' disciples were that He was in the tomb, and they had to wait three whole days to not be sad anymore.


Conversations typically went like this:


[Sadly]  "I want cookies!"


"I know.  Do you think Jesus' friends were sad that He was in the tomb?  Do you think they said, 'We want Jesus'?"


"Yeah, and they wanted cookies."


Saturday Caleb et. al. were distracted for a while by the town Easter egg hunt.

At which event, happily, they did get to decorate and consume an Easter cookie.

And make a lovely Easter hat.

We went to church again on Saturday afternoon, where Caleb told anyone who would listen, "Jesus is in our oven!"


He was totally getting it.


On Easter morning, that most joyous and glorious of days, we came downstairs bright and early, the tomb was unsealed and the longing of our hearts was answered.  We got to eat a cookie.


Before breakfast, too.


If I had made them correctly, they were supposed to be hollow inside (Surprise!  The tomb was empty!), but I think at least the lesson of sadness followed by joy was communicated.


Wow, it was a long weekend.


Nobody mourns like people who had left everything to follow One they believed was the Messiah, whose entire futures were apparently shattered by His death.


Or a three-year-old waiting all weekend for a cookie.

What I Learned in March

Today I'm linking up with Emily Freeman for her monthly "What We Learned" feature, where bloggers share lessons big and small from the past month.

1.  My state holds open primaries.


I've lived in this state for fifteen years--and voted in at least five elections--and never until now did I learn that anyone can vote in a presidential primary.  


My vote did not propel my preferred candidate to victory, but still.  Civil duty?  Check.


2.  Bike helmets are a good thing.


Ada already became convinced of this two years ago when she sustained a concussion from not wearing one, but this month convinced Jeddy--and me--when he flipped himself over his bike, which clobbered down on top of him, bashing his head into the concrete and breaking his glasses again.  He came in battered with a goose egg already formed on each side of his head.  I set him up with an ice pack in each hand, collected the pieces of his glasses and bike, and sat down to stare at him and watch for signs of concussion all afternoon.  


Helmets are now enforced at our house.


3.  Houseplants look at lot bigger at home than they do in Lowe's.


I stopped in to get a nice little something for the corner of the living room and came home with this:

"It's not big--it's just full!"


For sense of scale, here's the behemoth next to a T-Rex:

4.  Jed is not afraid of Madagascar hissing cockroaches.

Or gigantic grasshoppers, for that matter.

5.  Tilex Mold and Mildew is a really effective bleaching agent.

Removes mildew and molds in a snap!


Also dye from clothing.

Mildew remover + favorite dress ever = Sadness.


Lesson learned.  Don't clean the bathroom in my favorite dress.  Or just never clean the bathroom again, to be on the safe side.


What did you learn in March?