Making Do

 I just finished reading A Nickel's Worth of Skim Milk by Robert Hastings. I found his description of "making do" during the Depression fascinating. I've been pondering what American society would do today if another Depression came along. Would we know how to pinch pennies and do without like they did almost 100 years ago? I tend to think we Mennonites and Amish might have a bit easier time of it because we don't look to the government for handouts, and we're [generally speaking] not afraid of hard work. We value family and community; we know how to work together and help each other. But we like our luxuries as much as the next person, too. Is it possible that we'd have a tougher time now because of the staggering amount of consumer debt many Americans have?? 

A paragraph near the end of the book: What a youngster's feet touch as he jumps out of bed- cold linoleum or warm carpeting- does not necessarily mark his destiny. What counts is the kind of person who walks across these floors. We must never forget this. Because what we are and who we are is far more than what we eat or where we live or what we wear. 

This was more than 40 years after the Depression but for me, this was part of 'the good ol' days' when we used it up, wore it out, made it do, or did without.

Boundaries

It was a crazy week last week. The verdict is still out whether I am suffering the ill effects of eating a tiny amount of spoiled yogurt or managed to pick up the stomach bug that is making its rounds in our community. Either way I've been eating cautiously for several days.

I am glad I got the opportunity to attend a stop on the Good Boundaries and Goodbyes Book Tour last evening. I enjoy Lysa's writing style, and hearing her speak in person was good too. 

I think one reason I connected with this particular book of hers is because it gave me permission to walk away from destructive relationships. It always felt to me like, as a Christian, I have to fight for my relationships and never give up. Particularly in church life. But maybe, just maybe, sometimes it's okay to take a break or to walk away in certain situations. That it's okay to put up boundaries. Some really good stuff there that makes a lot of sense to me at this time of my life. 

It seems like most novels that I've read in recent years all have a common thread- the main characters get themselves into all sorts of problems because they refuse to have a simple, honest conversation. A couple chapters in I want to shake someone for being so dense! Just spit it out, SAY IT. Save yourself a whole book's worth of trouble. But the reality is that I'm not very good at having honest conversations or setting boundaries myself. I either open my big mouth, calling it like I see it, and offending the other person or I skirt around the issue like the fiction characters I disdain, feeling annoyed but accomplishing nothing. Learning how to set boundaries in a healthy way is still very much a work in progress for me.  

Never say Never

 March has arrived, which means I'm back on my spring cleaning schedule. This past week when I was cleaning the master bedroom I decided it's time to get rid of some things in storage. I tend to be sentimental and hang on to stuff, but I'm trying to simplify and get rid of things. Especially stuff that will not "spark joy" to my children, it simply evokes a happy memory to me.

So I had a whole bag of clothing sorted out to throw away. One item I hesitated to discard was the sweater I wore on our wedding day. I mean, can I part with something from our WEDDING?! But I took a firm grip of my resolve and added it to the bag. It had yellow spots, as white vintage clothing has a habit of doing in storage. No one will ever want to actually wear it, I assured myself. 

Until... later my daughter was looking through my discards. She pulled out the sweater and tried it on, declaring it the kind of sweater she would pick up from a thrift store. Who knew my sweater was back in style! I thought it only worked the other way- that I absorb her cast-offs in an attempt to make my wardrobe more classy or hip. A good soak in Oxi-clean later, the yellow spots have disappeared, to my surprise. It's good as new. 

I remember discovering a pair of my mother's "cool" shoes in the attic one day when I was a teenager. And putting them in my closet to wear for awhile. Truly, "what goes around comes around".   

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Busy week, slow on photography. So I'll share a shot of my adorable grandchildren from their photo shoot instead 💕

Photo Cred: Susanna Rose Photography 

What Moms [of Adults] Do

 A mom will text her twenty-year-old child, letting him know it's going to rain and reminding him to drive carefully.⁣ ⁣⁣

She watches her DIL's baby, so she can shower and take care of her postpartum body.⁣ She makes meals, does the laundry and all the things she wishes someone would've done for her back in the day.

⁣⁣She always tells her thirty-year-old son "text me when you arrive", because knowing that he's safe is still the only way she can sleep well.⁣ 

⁣She will call to see how the first day of school separation went for her grandkids and if her daughter made it to the car before tears streamed down her face.⁣

She comes to the rescue with a shoe when there is a creepy crawly in the bathtub, keeps Benadryl on hand for when her twenty-five-year-old develops hives, and will loan her minivan when her kids don't want to get their freshly washed car dirty.  
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⁣She buys certain foods when the kids are coming home for dinner, keeping their preferences in mind, even if it's something she doesn't care for. (Jalapeno poppers anyone?)⁣
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And no, she no longer needs to do these things,⁣ but she does them anyway.⁣
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Because a mother always wants to make life easier for her kids when she can⁣ -even when they’re capable, responsible humans and can do all the things for themselves.⁣
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⁣And she always wants to know they’re safe.⁣
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Because mothering doesn’t stop when her kids turn eighteen, move away, or have their own kids.⁣
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⁣It just changes.⁣

Photo of the week: a date with the Grammie included hanging out at the library [for rather a long time] and McDonalds Happy Meals.