Only A Mere Woman

          I know I just published that " Intellectual Loneliness " post, but I can't help it. I need to write. And not in depth on any particular thing, while touching on subjects I do want to write more on later. Like this book, "The Gift of Fear" by Gavin de Becker. I am pretty much finished with it, but even when I was only a few chapters in, I decided ** EVERYONE ** needs to read it. Really. It will change how you look at people, and hopefully how you treat people, in addition to teaching you tools to help you stay alive. Go get it, like right now.          Just the babysitter. I've been feeling a lot like that lately. On the bad days, I just keep waiting for the Mom to come home, but she never does. On the good days, I'm the fun babysitter that every kid is sad to say goodbye to.            We have a cat, sort of. I think she belongs to a neighbor somewhere, but for the past week, almost, she has decided that she lives with us. Very friendly. I lik

     Today has been a day. You know, the kind where you really only want to drink yourself into oblivion, and it isn't even 10 o'clock yet. So I sit here, beer bottle of water in hand (no, not sarcasm about beer quality - actual water - story for another day), and I know why it is many, many women don't want to be stay at home moms, and it really doesn't have anything to do with selfish, career driven ambitions. It's because of the loneliness. Now, I'm going to make some general assertions about people, knowing full well that, as such, they do not apply to everyone.       In general, women are extremely social. They just need to be able to talk and connect with people. I never really knew just how much I need to do such, until I became the stay at home mom who didn't have access to a car everyday. And now, it seems, I am going out of my mind, for lack of meaningful conversation. Yes, having  José around helps some, and really, he is quite a good talker, but

     So this is going to be a quick one, and most likely not the most well thought out. I was thinking the other day, about charity, and how many people are too proud to accept it. You know, "I could never accept a handout" type people. Yes, I'm included in that group; receiving gifts is not a strong point of mine. Anyway, I got to pondering the origin of such a response, and quickly decided that it was pride. Kind of a no-brainer there. But then I got to thinking on the origin of "Charity", and, though it may seem blatantly obvious to some, I finally put 2 & 2 together and realized that it was the same word as the "Faith, Hope, and Charity (Love)" Charity. *foreheadpalm*       Derived from the Latin caritas , " Charity " refers to the love and friendship one has for God and, by extension, all of mankind. Though it may not seem so anymore, the origin of charitable donations stemmed from a desire to show love of God and neighbor by giving

     It is tough adjusting to being a mom, having to put basically everyone before yourself. Oftentimes, it seems as though you never get to do anything that you want to do, or sometimes even have to do. It is easy to get caught up in the "I didn'ts" of the day:  I didn't get to finish the laundry, again; I didn't get to getting us all outside ( *gasp!* ); I didn't get to finish that article; and so on. It is easy to start to slip into the thinking that we are failures - I mean, how hard is it to finish a load of laundry, really? Nevermind that the help of a toddler and 9 month old is really much more of a hindrance. Even finishing what used to be the simplest of tasks is now a huge deal. My huge successes last week? Actually having dinner made by the time Code Monkey got home, three days in a row. The first time that has happened in basically 9 months. But even that victory was overshadowed by the list of "I didn'ts", which it seems haunts my ev

          So, I'm sort of experiencing writers block tonight.  Yes, in spite of this very long list of potential topics to blog on. I'm just not in the mood to try and tackle any of them, though Giving Grace would be a fitting one considering my current state. So I guess we'll go with that, then. Except I think I was wanting to preface it with my meager thoughts on Pope Francis. Which was going to be prefaced with Doesn't Apply To You. And somewhere in there Division is the Devil's Work would fit nicely. Oh, guess I should cross off Friends Who Blog, since that was last week's.  Well, back to Giving Grace, then.           This past week has been a doosie in regards to failings and humility and the need for grace.  I won't go into detail, but I pretty much sucker punched myself in the gut and toppled squarely into the category of  "People I Never Thought I'D  Be Like".  Not the first time I've joined "Those People" (you know, tho

     Well, it is Blogging Monday once again, and it looks like I might actually post two weeks in a row! Woohoo! And today I'm going to embark on a new thing, which I shall call "Ask Mother Henn." Cute, no? Basically, unless people eventually ask me questions, I'm going to pretend that I have an advice column and answer questions I make up, or that it seems a lot of people have asked others elsewhere, and give my opinion on them.  Dear Mother Henn,  What do you do when you are at home all day, 7 days a week, with little children?       Well, first you do newborn things, like change diapers, feed the little one, sit for extended periods of time because little one fell asleep while in your arms and will wake if you move, change diapers, feed the little one, etc. Occasionally scrape up time to feed yourself, get dressed, brush teeth, and maybe even shower semi-regularly. Depending upon how well the baby really naps, you might even be able to somewhat keep up with h

     On my journey of discovering who I am and who God made me to be, I've come to the realization that I have a lot of unnecessary and misplaced guilt, shame, and fear. Over what? Well, just about everything. I feel ashamed and guilty because my life is good , that I really have nothing to complain about, and nearly everything going for me. I have a pretty face, somewhat enviable figure, and I'm athletic. I have a fantastic relationship with Code Monkey and adorable boys. We aren't exactly raking in the dough, but we aren't hurtin' either. Yes, I feel ashamed of these things, like I need to apologize for them, lest anyone's feelings be hurt. And I am afraid, so terribly afraid, of rejection. I so desperately want to fit in, and will basically conform to whatever group I'm with, so that I don't stick out in the least. So much so, in fact, that I don't even know what it is that I as Jenn actually like and don't like anymore, and what it is that I

     Well, this post is to try and flesh out my blog title a bit, and try to explain where I hear the emphasis in "She? A Mere Woman!" I guess we'll shoot for the emphasis first. I hear it said by a man, scoffing at the idea that "she" could possibly do/think/whatever, hence the question mark. "A mere woman" is meant to be like a put down, showing how he thinks it is ridiculous that a woman even contemplate such a thing, while at the same time discounting the fact that she accomplished it. Does that make sense?       And so we come to the actual definition of " mere " (I don't remember which online dictionary I took it from, sorry). MERE:  1. Being nothing more nor better than. - This was the meaning I had in mind when I decided to take it on as a blog identity, sorta like not as good, lacking. But guess what? There is an even better meaning! MERE:  2. a) Pure and unmixed. 2. b) Fully as much as what is specified; completely fulfi

     Because MUSCLES!!!!!  Seriously, though, because the stronger my muscles are, the more I will be able to do. I've always been quite active, rather sportsy, and I don't want to lose it. Especially not now that I have kids, and two boys at that. I want to be able to do *ALL THE THINGS!* that they might be interested in doing someday. Goodness, there are things I  want to do someday, like finally hike Old Rag, for instance. But I also don't want to wait forever, for when we no longer have babies that need to be carried. Because who knows when that is going to be! Sure, looking better is certainly a plus, but not my main motivation. I don't want a "perfect" looking body; I want a body I can do  amazing things with! And one of the best sources of information and motivation I have found is Girls Gone Strong . They are all about empowering and motivating women of every fitness level to better who they are as people, not just physically, though that does play a h

     Stretchmarks are the bane of every woman's existence, especially when it comes to pregnancy. I noticed my first stretchmarks somewhere in my teens, much to my chagrin. Lucky for me, they weren't highly visible, though it did not stop me from being ashamed of them. Fast forward a handful of years, and I'm a new mom with even more stretchmarks, also sort of a shock, as I could not see them at all when pregnant. You would think I would not have been that surprised to see them, considering I already had them elsewhere, but I had naively thought that perhaps I would fall into that category of women who do not get them as a result of pregnancy. Silly me. I was rather pleased when they faded from red to silvery, much less noticeable that way. So I was on the look out for them with pregnancy #2, and not to my surprise, but still to my disappointment, there were new ones. All of that consternation was really quite ridiculous, considering I have long been of the opinion that sca

(This is an "I'm trying to figure this out" type of post. If it doesn't make much sense, or isn't well written, that is why)      I never thought it would have come to this. Never pegged myself to be the tree-hugger, crunchy granola type person, you know, the kind we made fun of growing up. But, well, it turns out I was wrong. Not that I'm a full fledged "natural is the only way to go" person, not by any means. I flip flop a lot on the subject, freaking out about how expensive I imagine going all organic, etc. really would be, while simultaneously becoming rather more disturbed by the things I learn in regards to what is allowed to be put in food and lotions and things, all the while reminding myself that we're all going to die some day anyway, and it's so hard to determine what really is good and healthy, so what's the point anyway?      I understand the desire to and thinking behind wanting to only use natural products, but it seems

     Christian was dying. He had lived a good life, done his best to align his will with that of his Father, and he was ready to go Home. Surrounded by praying loved ones, he quoted 1 Corinthians: "Death, where is thy sting?" With that, he closed his eyes, and breathed his last.       "My sting?" Death questioned gently as he took Christian by the hand, "Oh, it's still around, though you will not be experiencing it." Christian was slightly perplexed. "If the dying are not touched, then who is?"       Death smiled sympathetically as he answered, "Those left behind. They will feel it when they look at your easy chair, and you are not there. They will feel it at the ocean, where you loved to vacation. They will feel it when that song you always cranked up suddenly plays on the radio. They will feel it on those major life milestones where the whole family celebrates as one. They will feel it on your birthday, the day everyone would gather