Da, Dada, Daddy, Dad, Father

Audrey has been talking a lot lately about daddies. Everyone is a mommy and daddy to her. When we go to other people's houses they have a mommy and a daddy. Animals have a mommy and a daddy in her little world. So I know the talk is going to come. Maybe sooner than I want, or than she will be able to understand.

Yesterday, she told me "we are going to go to Emma's house and see Emma and her mommy and daddy" and when I agreed, she further told me "and my mommy and daddy are going to be there." And I didn't have words.

When she calls someone else daddy (because that must be their name since someone else is calling them that) or talks about daddies, it is a little stab stab stab to my heart. I want to avoid the day when she realizes our family isn't like the others she sees. In a lot of ways this is because I don't know what I am going to say to her. My mother in law has already broke out the "Daddy is in heaven watching over you" once. But I can't bring myself to walk that party line for two reasons.

First: My husband was a good man in his heart, but he wasn't a religious man and sometimes he was deeply flawed in his actions. I am not sure even if there was a heaven he would be in it.

Second: The bible says that the dead will only rise when Jesus returns and calls them home, so even if there is a heaven, and he got in , he wouldn't be there yet. (At least that is what I was raised to believe. )

But, I can't really weigh down a small child with religious hairsplitting, and/or disparage her father (whom I very much loved). So I am at a loss. I know I need to figure out what I am going to say so I don't get caught flat-footed about it with a 3-4 year old looking at me expectantly, but anytime I try to think about it I just cry and can't come up with a good solution.

Random thoughts

I haven't managed to put together a proper post, but here are some random thoughts for the weekend. They are most likely just a rant that I am too nervous about posting the full on diatribe on the internet where someone might tell my mother what I said.

• Sharing a bedroom with a daughter and a mother that both snore and one of them is trying to sleep on top of you is NOT restful.
• I really must figure out how to change my interactions with both my mother and my daughter, because the irritation at them is eating me up. (Possibly related to the first point?)
• Is it normal to enjoy 75% of your extended family 90% of the time you are with them? And the other 25% somewhere in the 40-65% range?
• I hate feeling like I can't win. If something bothers me and I speak up everyone gets super defensive and chastises me for making them feel bad. If I don't speak up and feel irritated about it, I am admonished for being "unpleasant" since my answers are short and a bit terse. I suppose the only option is to never be upset by anything. If you figure out how to do that please be sure to drop me a line.
• Blow up mattresses are mighty freaking cold to sleep on unless you spread a heavy blanket or sleeping bag on top of them.
• I have got to stop complaining about people my daughter loves in front of her. Which really means I have got to get out more without her so that I have some room to vent without doing it around her.
• It is unlikely that I will ever become vegetarian even if raising cows organically and grass finished produces a ton of methane gas.
• Engaging your aunt who looks rather gaunt while you are overweight in a discussion about food and eating habits will not lead to a happy place.

Dear Universe,

I realize that you live to mess with people. Really, there is a lot of stuff that I am sure happens just to remind people that you have the power to knock people on their butts.

But, having my iPod choose a selection of sad, sappy songs (some of which were played at my husband's funeral) at exactly the moment that I am suffering from a minor (maybe major, it remains to be seen) household disaster was a bit on the cruel side. You see, when shit goes bad in my house, I miss my husband. I miss the ability to split the duty on taking care of the grunt work. I miss being the one who has to stay rational because Carl is the one losing his shit. And, frankly, I miss his income making sure that even if this turns into a strip the drywall off the bedroom and call in a contractor kind of experience, it won't be that major of a deal financially. So yeah, thanks for the reminder that I didn't need that I am alone in those tasks.

Alicia

Losing My Religion

Faith. There is a loaded word. It is right up there with politics as a word that is fraught with tension in our society.

So fraught that I have written and rewritten this post several times and debated whether or not to post it. It seems so much more personal and possibly TMI than grief, in-law problems and sleeping issues. In the end, this blog is mostly for me and frankly, I am the queen of TMI sometimes anyway so, whatever.

Religion and faith have been on my mind a lot lately. I am (sort of) looking for a church to join and have been visiting a lot lately. This seems weird to me, because it is hard to find a church that really speaks to your beliefs when you are having a hard time figuring out what you believe.

My mom is pretty uber-Christian. She takes her bible very seriously and studies (even learning ancient greek so that she could read some older versions of the bible). Whenever I mention my conflicting issues with religion/faith she always has the same answer, read the bible and pray. Everything that you need to know is in the bible and God answers all prayers. Which is probably why I don't like to discuss religion much, because the statement that God answers all prayers makes me seethe. I want to shout, "No he doesn't mom" or (on a less generous day) "Do you really think that Carl died because I didn't think to pray?" (As if I would take my mom on as my spiritual advisor. I think all mother/daughter relationships are laced with enough button pushing without adding that.)

Also, if God doesn't answer your prayers most people respond with the idea that "God has a plan, even if you don't understand it." So, if God has a plan, and is going to follow his plan no matter what, why bother to pray for something to happen? Praying to be thankful for something that has already happened, sure, but if your prayer isn't going to make a difference then why? If it is going to make a difference, then why do some go unanswered? Was the woman praying for tickets to the Obama inauguration (to take an example my mom has given me of prayer working) more worthy than the people praying for more important things that went unanswered?

Reading the bible brings up even more issues. After a lot of soul searching I can definitively say that I believe in God. I think that there is just too much magic in the world to not believe in some higher power. Beyond that is where things get sticky for me. I have a hard time with the Bible (or really any religious text) because of the nature of these sorts of things. They are written by men, often long after whatever "facts" have passed. They are edited strongly with the needs of the church institutions placed above anything else. One only needs to read some of the passages about women or slave ownership to know that the texts are definitely influenced by the times and attitudes of the people writing them. There are certainly other religious groups who claim to have the "true" text. There are other people who have claimed to be the son of God and had good followings and were reported to perform miracles. So what makes the bible as we know it THE ONE TRUTH?

Yet through all this. I want to believe. Somehow with all the questions and issues that I have Christianity just feels "right". But I have yet to reconcile my logical mind with my faith and therefore feel a bit like a fraud anytime I go to church. If only God would speak to me. I imagine it would go something like this

God: "I know you have been struggling child"

Me : "Yep"

God: "Well, I am here to help you"

Me: "Great, can we talk about what religion is the best?"

God: "Well, they are all pretty good, but I am partial to Christianity. Jesus Christ was my son after all"

Me: "Really?"

God: "Yep. I mean, Buddha was a pretty awesome guy, and Mohammad definitely got a lot right, Pagans have some good points and the Mormons are just a little wacky, but you know how parenting is. JC will always be my kiddo."

Maybe if all of the Christians I knew weren't all SO faithful it would be easier. Most of the religious folks I know BELIEVE, while I often feel like I believe. But I want Audrey to grow up with some religious belief. Church provides a great community and even if I have problems with the larger macro issues, the teachings of the church (community, service, caring) are things I want my daughter to learn. So I will keep looking (when we are not too sick) for a church that doesn't make me feel too much like a fraud. And hope I figure it out a little more for myself before Audrey starts asking me questions.

Sick and Tired

Sometimes people tell me that it must be very hard to be a single mother. For the most part, I don't feel like it is all that measurable different. (Not that it is easy, but I don't think motherhood is every really EASY especially when the kid is under 5 or so.) Since Carl was gone before Audrey came on to the scene, I have nothing to compare it with. It just is the way it is. In fact, sometimes I feel like it makes it easier. Carl and I never have to agree on rules, or punishments. There can be no feeling that someone is being too lenient or too harsh. Whatever I say goes, for good or bad. It can be quite nice.

That said, illness makes single motherhood HARD. If you are married and you or your kid is sick, you spouse is contractually required to return home. If you have a nice spouse, they may even come back early to let you rest. As a single mom, when someone gets sick some of your support systems jump ship. No one wants to get sick and I understand that. It is particularly hard when I am the one who is sick. When Audrey is sick, the only thing I have to worry about is the two of us going a little crazy because we are trapped in the house and only my mother will brave the illness. When I am sick and Audrey is well or on the upswing of an illness, that is when single motherhood sucks. And hard. All I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep, and all my daughter wants me to do is play and read and cook.

This year is Audrey's first year of preschool/daycare and the illness has been abundant. Today, I can feel myself coming down with yet another cold and I am tired. I know that this will pass, and the cuddling that I get when Audrey is feverish is downright adorable (and possibly why I am always getting sick). But how can you avoid illness when your child is dipping her germ infested fork into your food or sneezing in your face?