Thank you

Olivia walked out of bed on this Christmas Day evening. It's 9:30 and long past bed time. I'm preparing myself to send her back to bed with a slight scolding as I've done hundreds of times in her lifetime, but only for the first time this evening. She says to me, "Mom?" in a very quiet voice. I say, "What do you need Olivia?" in a slightly impatient tone. Gaining confidence since I didn't immediately send her to her room, she starts walking toward me saying, "I need to tell you something in your ear." I walk towards her against my better judgment since I'm sure she's going to repeat what she said to me earlier today in this same manner: "I have to go potty." She moves her mouth right over my ear, I ready myself to say, "Then go, and go back to bed. You don't need to tell me before you go potty."

She whispers, "Thank you."

She's so thankful for her Anna doll that she's holding and taking to bed with her tonight, and dressing and undressing while she should be sleeping.
I'm so thankful that my daughter is sitting in bed, playing, and gratitude wells up in her heart and she just needs to tell me how she feels. I'm so thankful for her grateful, sweet spirit. I'm so thankful that our talks about being thankful at Christmas have taken root somewhat.

Merry Christmas. It's been a great one at our house. I'm very thankful for the real reason for Christmas. I'm still enchanted by that story...probably why my most favorite time of the season is Christmas Eve night. When I was only 5 or 6, on Christmas Eve night, I asked Jesus to be my Savior, and dedicated my life to Him. God still grabs my heart on that night.

One Year Later

I think the last time I wrote a blog post was one year ago. I think people might have stopped checking this.



I wanted to write something down about today. Something happened. It was emotion, and it was a reminder that I'm alive and feel deeply, and a reminder of the therapy there is in human dialogue that goes beyond pleasantries. When I was driving away, I couldn't believe how long it had been since I opened myself up to cry in front of someone, and this time, I had no control over it...it just happened.



Hope has been going to VBS in Moville this week. Today was day 4 of 4. I'm glad she got to go because our church is not doing one. And I thought it might introduce her to some Moville kids her age. And I thought it might get her ready for preschool with the whole leaving Mommy and siblings to do something by herself aspect. I was not surprised that when I dropped her off and picked her up on day 1 I was so very critical. Critical of Moville, critical of what they did NOT do to put a parent at ease, and critical of other people for having conversations with people they know, because how dare everyone in Moville be related to each other. And how dare everyone in Moville ignore me because they don't know my face. That's not always true. And sorry about my critical tendency.



I've had a rough 10 days because I'm trying this elimination diet to see if I can get myself feeling better. It's been a long, stressful year with all of our projects, and moves, and changes. In the last two years I have had a premature baby, NICU time, improving a house, showing a house, selling a house, moving, building a house, planning a new house, sometimes single parenting three lovely but young children, being a bit lonely in a small town that grew on me, moving again, adjusting to new neighbors and finding where I fit in, and being a bit lonely in another small town (because I think a SAHM might struggle with loneliness wherever she is). Also during this time I've developed some concerning health symptoms that I just can't get to the bottom of, not yet at least.



So, I'm wondering if there's been stress in my life? Not wondering if there's been stress. I'm wondering if the stress in my life has been affecting my health physically AND emotionally. I was taken aback by my response to a woman I met today, and it alerted me. Have I been neglecting an emotional outlet, and have I been closing myself off to the people around me? I really think I have. I know I've neglected to share life with other people, my family and friends. I've not reached out, I've not made myself uncomfortable to show interest in their lives or struggles. At least, not enough.



Today I went to pick up Hope at church for the last time and was really touched by the normal thing that happened. The lady at the long VBS table said, "Come, come. Come and find your child's magnet. Look for a face you recognize."

• Wow, how refreshing to be addressed upon entering the building. Every other time I've had to ask what to do, where to go....and honestly, it infuriated me. It was another evidence to me that people in Moville don't explain things. They just expect everyone to know already because of course they would...you grew up here right? You've done this before right? No, I haven't. And I don't know you. I'm coming to your turf now too, it's your safe place, not mine. Please help me feel at ease with my most prized possession, my child. And please show me that you're interested in meeting new people. And please just be friendly. If you're not, I get defensive and I shut down. I've seen myself do this time and time again...I shut down and get critical of you and everything you're doing. It's a bad way to operate. 

The woman smiled at me and continued to explain until I found Hope's magnet. When she saw who my daughter is she said, "Oh, so you're Hope's mom. You're a Demarest. So how do you know Sarah Gitlin?"

• My eyes welled up. Someone in Moville notices I'm here. She's having a conversation with me. She has a connection with me. She's interested in me. Why was this making me cry? Could she tell my eyes were watering? I didn't have tears roll down my face, but I felt like she had to know. I fully expected her to say something like, how do you know Mark Demarest or Luke Demarest or any other Demarest since I get that so often in this Correctionville area. It was meaningful to me to have it not be that, for some reason. She had recognized the Demarest name all week, and knew that name from Facebook. That's funny. I comment on stuff, and she sees my name. She was interested in me...how am I friends with her friend?  Sarah means so much to me; it was almost like the mention of her name was part of why it affected me so much.

We talked about how great Sarah is, how I (we) know her, a future party Sarah is hosting, the coffee shop in CVille, and again how great the Gitlins are.

• I came away so thankful she had a conversation with me. I want to engage people in conversation because what she did was not hard, it was just a good thing to do. I didn't even know it would mean that much to me, but it just goes to show how important it is to have a conversation with someone who is out of their safe place. Show an interest in someone new. And finally, I came away hoping upon hope that somebody somewhere has had a similar conversation about me.  "How do you know Deb?" TEARS. "Isn't she great? We have been friends for a long time. The Demarests, well, they're lifetime friends. I love spending time with her at her house. She was there for me when I really needed her." I hope that's who I am to other people. Ha, kinda funny because it seems like I want to hear good things about myself. But really, I just want to be involved in the lives of others. And I want them to have a positive experience...to feel better, be better, having known me.

Thanks to the woman who talked to me today. It was meaningful.