End of an Era

I've been changing diapers, daily, for the last eleven years and some. Our youngest is finally getting interested in potty training, and we're getting excited about dropping diapers from our expenses and our chores.
One of the things that drew me to having children and lots of them was the idea of a tiny little body rustling in the crib. I liked the idea of the little diapered behind sticking up in the air, and I must admit, I've enjoyed the reality.
I am not the best at potty training. I suspect it's because I've never been particularly annoyed by diapers. I don't suppose you could say I enjoy changing them. In fact, you can definitely say I don't, but I did love the closeness of being the only person who was still glad to be around the stinky little being. They were always so glad when things were made right again in that department. I will miss that.
Here's to my babies. Growing into personhood one little step at a time.

Given Rhythm

"Come," He whispered
and my heart ran away
ran away
ran away

To live to love an other day
another day
another day

And now it is the other day
And all His love I give away
give away
give away

Making Peace

I'm beginning to realize that before I can move on with my life I need to make peace with my failures, lapses, gaps, and those of other people in my life. I don't have to wring contrition out of any of us, or, in most cases, get or make an official apology, but I do have to let it rest. I'm finding the biggest challenge may be the church as an institution. A friendly person once suggested that instead of seeking personal help I ought to "call the church." That's a reasonable suggestion if the church wasn't the very institution that had screwed me over. At that moment what I really needed was personal help from faithful people not institutional help.
I suppose that friendly voice meant that I could get the personal help I needed by working through the bureaucracy of church referrals, but I'd been through that system. Frankly, you always end up screwed. People check off check lists and "make connections" and then you sit in a room with someone you don't know who doesn't know you and you try to express the deepest intimacies of your life. It never works.
It's particularly difficult if you've grown up with the backstage view. You know that all these people are playing political games of one sort or another and with varying degrees of success. You've lost all innocence that someone actually cares. The only authority the church seems capable of generating at the moment is the authority of the abusive father. So I've gone off looking for something else.
I think I've found my personal something else, but I don't like how absurdly grumpy I am with the past. I don't like shuddering at every tiny misstep the church we are currently visiting makes. It's not like they are trying to be evil. They are trying to do something very good. They just don't seem to be succeeding, in my view. I'm not ready to give up on working out some kind of truce with them just yet, so I'll keep going and I'll probably keep shuddering. I wish there was a program I could call that would walk me through the steps so I could walk free.
I bet there is. I bet it doesn't work.

Dead Trees and other Paraphenalia

Yesterday was a grand day. West Michigan Tree Services (They are terrific and I highly recommend them!) had come out a few days ago and turned all of our dead trees into mulch, a huge pile of which they left us to use as we saw fit. We dived in as a family team, and got about half of it properly spread around our property. We have ideas about what to do with the rest of it, but we were just bored with wood chips after awhile.
I've mention earlier that I'd like to do more walking than driving this summer. Part of my plan is to walk/ride bikes to the kids tennis and swimming lessons. Kurt and I agreed that an undertaking of that sort requires a dry run, so with the help of a kind neighbor we set out on our adventure.
Initially, it was just me and the kids as Kurt was suffering a bike malfunction. I was so glad we were trying this without any time pressure as kids were learning to stay closer to the grass instead of the white line and other important lessons. I was just beginning to be overwhelmed when who should arrive on his trusty rollerblades? You guessed it, our family's personal man of steel.
Things were still difficult as we discovered dangerous intersections and poorly designed sections of the bike trail. Number Four took a terrible tumble over the edge of a rise, but bravely battled on on her Dora the Explorer bike. The largest difficulty is Number Five and I trailing behind with the stroller. Our next dry run will be all about setting mandatory wait points for the older children on their bigger and faster bikes.
Trials and skinned knees included we all had a good time.