Sincerely yours, me again

I have been laying in bed now for the past hour trying, willing, pleading with my head to turn off so I could go to sleep.  Obviously, I have failed.  I decided, I would try the old method, one I had spent most of the afternoon 'researching' and reacquainting myself with: journaling.

From the age of 8 through 23 I kept a fairly consistent nightly journal.  Through the years I gave different journals names.  I called them my only friend and confidant.  I finally got the the habitual point that would not allow me to go to sleep without first laying the day to rest in textual format.   I say I was 'researching' this afternoon as I was browsing selectively through my journals for references to my sense of identity and family.  I will be drafting an 18 page paper tomorrow that deals with that subject, in which I get to be one of my own research subjects - that is, the past me.

The research brain in me was fascinated with seeing how my writing and voice developed overtime.  There were elements of my writing style which have never changed - that flow of consciousness that is playful and teasing.  Yet there were structural elements that I tinkered with - I can read now how I was intentionally moulding a literate voice full of phrases and terminology that expanded and contracted with my idea of what a good writer was.  Being  literary person really manipulated even my very personal writing.

Beyond the interest in textuality, which I did get past, I began to sink into the ebb and flow over the years of self-doubt, depression, and confidence that I still struggle with now.  I was impressed by the constant struggle with conscious self and mortality.  My thoughts and feelings so often were in contest.  My desires were strong, perhaps the flesh was weak.  I still feel that struggle.  Even looking back at myself from that third-person reader stance, I feel empathy for my own self.  Still, my desires overshoot my behaviors.  I want so much to become that living seems to get in the way.  The massive hurdles of priority and balance, coupled so closely together, often trip me up.  As evident in this past week.

I have been feeling the mounting pressure of the end of semester.  Yet, at the same time, a lot of momentum is building in our family as well.  Pressured by our sellers, we moved our home signing up to Wednesday.  I had not anticipated this large chunk of time devoted to a new house.  On Tuesday the kids got out of school at half day, which meant that I had the remainder of a very important week needing to be devoted to motherhood rather than student work.  I coiled the student-self spring tight inside my chest telling myself I could let it release at certain times when the family did not need me to do some powerful school work.  The coil is still cocked and I am near crazy!

Since the kids got out of school Tuesday half-day, and it was Grandparents day at school, I stayed at the school to help with the event and visit in the kids' classrooms to avoid 2 hours of driving for 2 hours at home.  We had barely recouped from a very stimulating half-day at school when it was the usual racecar rally to various lessons: Faith and Viv start lessons at 4pm, then Danny and I pick up Viv at 5:30, then swing around to pick up Faith by 5:45, come home for quick nacho dinner then all are back in the car to take Danny back to 6:30 tap lessons.  It is a regular Tuesday after school relay in order to clear up other afternoons of the week.  Of course, no school work was fit into that schedule.

Wednesday the house signing went lonnnng.  I then had to take the kids to Grabill for piano lessons since their teachers' car was broken.  We got home around 2pm and had a lot of housework to accomplish.  I want to believe I was productive with all my time that afternoon, but the state of my stress from the coiled spring inside and unexpected timeline shift and sent me into an anxious shock.  I felt good getting a couple layers on the rainbow Jello and watching a movie with the kids.

Thursday Josh was home with us.  He was home with us all weekend.  His presence at home is wonderful.  It was a stay-cation, time devoted to family.  We all chipped in to make a Thanksgiving meal that was delicious, although void of enthusiasm.  I didn't care to invite people over for the meal knowing my emotional instability of late and I missed the family traditions of old.  We at and then digested to "A Muppet Christmas Carol."  Unfortunately, at some point during dinner preparations, we clogged the kitchen sink which made Thanksgiving dishes linger....and linger....and linger...

Friday we got to go to our new home, which is purchased but not yet ready to be lived in, to visualize what life will be like when we move in 21 days from now.  It was Josh's first time in the home.  The sellers took the time to show us the quirks of the home and then left us to measuring and musing.  It took the majority of the afternoon.  We made a quick stop at Lowe's for some boxes to pack away the wall hangings that Josh and I had been pulling off the walls at our current home.  The weekend was devoted to patching walls and painting them to an untouched glory.  After a discussion with the sellers, Josh and I made a very late night decision to do some late night Black Friday shopping to help Santa bring a TV to our family for the first time.

Saturday we waited anxiously for a plumber to finally free the kitchen pipes, which did not happen until late afternoon.  During the morning's frustration we managed to get the Christmas decorations in place to welcome the holiday cheer into this home for one final (to be cut short) season.  Our enthusiasm for preparing for he new  home occupied our spare thoughts, considering these three precious days were the seldom few Josh and I had to discuss ideas and purchases in real time.  We made a fast trip to a furniture store to verify that online prices were better and made it home to more online shopping.  Rugs, rugs, rugs!  It becomes a problem when there really are too many choices.  I became frustrated by Sunday afternoon that we did not close the deal and move on.  I mentally do not have any more time to devote to the new home or Christmas shopping from now until Dec 17th.

Oh boy.  That brings us full circle.  I am in a position recorded through my own history as all too familiar.  I would like to believe that I have trained myself out of procrastination somewhat over the years.  Somewhat.  Yet the last minute pressures still mandate a lot of my writing.  I have learned to do my research and brainstorming well in advanced.  Just the writing.  Thus, I lay in bed tonight trying to memorize the full and complete paragraphs for three different compositions that came began drafting in the crowded space right behind my closed eyelids.  I tried to force them back behind the curtains in order to relax.  I remembered my mother's words "at least let your body rest," as I continued motionless under the covers will my brain was doing gymnastics of all sorts.

I began to pray.  Many nights I have spoken softly with God, allowing Him to help me sort through the various thoughts and laying my burdens and trust at His feet for one more night.  Tonight I remained distracted and in all desperation, unfolded myself from the warm sheets and came back to the computer screen.  If nothing else, staring at a computer screen will unavoidably will me fall asleep.  With eyes throbbing and head pulsing, my body is finally ready to give up for the night, and perhaps, thanks to SKATALAT, the 1995 named version of journal writing, I can let my mind rest as well.

Puppets, purchases, and papers

This is the season when all the wheels start spinning, faster, and Faster, and FASTER! Until I no longer have control.  On various days, I choose to give up. On those days, I find myself finding every excuse possible not to shower, exercise, or make progress on massive pending papers.

Yes, it is the end of a semester.  I hate deadlines.  How I have enjoyed learning and researching for 14 weeks, and then the last two it feels like sirens are going off constantly, forcing me to make cognizant sense out of all the knowledgeable stuff in my head.  Bleh.  It is not that I don't want to articulate my passionate feelings about how families shape identities and how family history writing can and should evolve in order to tell the smaller stories that shape a nation.  I really do want to articulate it all; can't we just have a long conversation instead?  Nope.  That would not be as well organized.  I get it.  Please pass the chocolate chips.

The research has been fascinating.  Thanks to the Church of Jesus Christ, we not only have the amazing free FamilyTree.org to work with, we have been given a membership to Ancestry.com.  We have been connecting with family members that we didn't even know we had in order to fill in some blanks in the family legacy.  Check out these gems:

This is the army registration card for Josh's great-grandfather, filled out in his own handwriting!  We had been trying to verify whether or not James fought in WW1.  We know he registered from this, and then....

Here is the application for military burial, which assumes that he did serve active duty.  There are still some mysteries in between, such as where and when, but we have the beginning and the end!  No, James did not die in the war, he died after a poker fight somewhere in Oregon (yet another story we are trying to clarify).

The personal connection to my research material (that is my research revolves around how family history work illuminates family trends, identity markers, and can change the way family identifies themselves) has made it so very worthwhile.  I have already started a couple spinoff projects.  It just feels like there is never enough ways to present the information as they extend into so many spheres.

As part of my physical goals this year, I am trying to be as aware of my body and its reactions to stress as possible.  I like stress, it motivates me on one hand.  On the other hand, it ties my muscles into searing knots that eventually separate from my spine and I collapse in an exhausted heap.  As one might imagine, end of semester is a constant tango between stress collapse and productivity.  In the meantime, I am trying to stay relaxed by adding more....enjoyable...distractions outside of academia.  So we have decided to buy a new home, rent our current home, and be committee chair on the annual school fundraiser.

Our current home cleans up nice. Thanks to the new category of 'shabby chic' all our crappy furniture is stylish.  With much gratitude, we already have renter lined up to move in just as we move out.

The new place will be fantastic.  We have been praying and looking for another house that would put us closer to the kids' school and give us a great yard in a good neighborhood.  God is gracious and does hear our prayers.  In our home search, I found this home listed on a Thursday night, I went with the kids on Saturday to see it, we put in the offer Saturday night, Sunday morning we had an accepted offer.

 We sign the first part of December and will move in the week of Christmas.  What a dream!  True to our form, Josh has not yet been inside this home much like our last two houses we have purchased without him having walked through.  I think it is a good luck charm.

To relax in the evening...

 making felt puppets for Viv's class, our contribution to fundraising along with my time spent planning the event.  Honestly, I am so grateful for a creative outlet right now that does not involve the creation or consumption of text.  We, yes Josh is helping me, the entire cast of animal characters for two Jan Brett books "The Mitten" and "The Hat."  more to come on that....

Making our own history

I am glad for the small moments that remind me to take stock of how far we have progressed.  Two projects have been turning my head around and around the concept of making history:

1- Our kids are working on their "personal history" unit at school.  For 1st years (Danny and Viv) they have to bring in photos with descriptions to make a timeline of their life thus far.  Due to the giant hard drive crash of 2013, I have to search through this blog to find photos of the kiddos from 2011-2013.  It reminds me again, that I need to print this thing out so the kids and I can read through those small vignettes that I had wisdom and energy enough to record.  It does go quickly, and I don't remember it all.  Jill and I were talking about the memory processes of small children - only remembering based on photos - I feel I am the same way.  It seems that if it weren't for textual remnants of the past, I might just forget it.  Faith's personal history project is working on a family tree, which is precisely what we are always working on.


2- I have been continuing the archival research for Alonzo Price Bowman through this semester as part of my course work.  I have been developing projects around the historical timeline of his life.  Turns out, Grandpa Alonzo lived through some of the big markers of American History.  The first wave of the project was to create a fully public domain multi-media presentation.  I tracked the first 20 years of Grandpa's life, and here are the highlights:

I just proposed the final project for Grandpa's Life which will include a rhetorical framework to show how it is the small lives that weave into the big histories without which the fibers of our nation would unravel (oh how poetic).