16 February 2022

The messiness of marriage and parenthood

Valentine's Day brought with it cards, cake, candy, and tulips. It also brought declarations of love from my four-year-old and my own thankfulness for all of the morning coffees (and accompanying snack) that Matthijs has brought me on all these days I've worked from home during the pandemic. 

Even as I am deeply thankful for my marriage and parenthood, I also recognize that parenthood is hard. So is marriage. I laughed aloud at the following description that Stephanie Phillips wrote about her own relationship:

"My pronouncements of [my future husband's] perfection stretched far and wide, or at least to my meager blog audience, who were treated to glowing stories about his strength of character and witty repartee. The way I saw it, he had saved me from (shudder) a life of singleness as one of New York City’s resident Cat Ladies.

Then we got married, and had kids, and now those cats don’t sound so bad."

In a season when we've spent a bit too much time together and I sometimes desperately just want time alone, those words resonate me. 

Yet, I'm also thankful that not only do I still have the cat (who follows me around the house, acting as my personal heater in my cold basement office), but I have a family who patiently allows me space to struggle through the challenges of being human and grace for me as I learn better how to love them and extend them the same grace they extend me. 


Phillips describes her own coming to terms with the messy reality of marriage in the following way: 

"Some readers (and reviewers) — most, if you read the comments section of that review — would be more comfortable with the fairy-tale version of marriage that we believed in when we were kids; the one I unwittingly expected when my own knight showed up to rescue me from spinsterhood. But at some point (usually around the first time one of you farts, or during a sleepless night full of infant screams and threats of murder), the wheels do come off, which is to say that you actually begin to see each other. All of each other. This is when grace enters the picture, because sticking around becomes a choice when both of your flaws show in the marked relief of everyday light. Which feels reminiscent of another kind of love I know.

“Sometimes you fear possibility itself: the possibility of growing into something more expansive and generous than you are now, growing into a shape that might look ugly from the outside but feels beautiful from the inside,” writes Havrilesky, who is describing marital love but could be documenting my own interaction with God’s grace over the years."

For more of Phillips' words about marriage in response to Havrilesky's recent memoir, follow this link.

06 January 2022

Presumed covid

While pandemic life has always been a bit uncertain, it feels like we've reached a new level in our house this week. Anyone living in Ontario with covid symptoms this last week (and trying to figure out the new PCR testing regulations) can probably relate to our family's conversations: so I think the little has covid? so we should probably isolate, right? should we use one of our last rapid tests on her (and if so, swab throat or nose)?

We can't actually get a PCR test for her. We do have 2 rapid tests left - and used one to get a negative result on Sunday (when we first heard her cough and we wanted to be safe in leaving the house), but is it worth trying again? 

The same document tells us that if you're not eligible for testing, then "if you have any of the symptoms listed below, the individual is presumed to have COVID-19 infection and is advised to self-isolate." And yes, the little has had a few symptoms: a nasty cough, some chills, a runny nose, extra fatigue, and even some shortness of breath a few days ago. Even if it's not covid, whatever she has is unpleasant and shouldn't be passed on to others. (Matthijs and I thankfully haven't gotten what she has). 

As for how much it matters - well, there are now new regulations for isolation: "If the individual is fully vaccinated OR is a child under the age of 12 years old, they should self-isolate for at least 5 days from symptom onset AND until their symptoms have been improving for 24 hours, whichever is longer in duration." Unfortunately, we didn't realize we all should have started isolating sooner - because we're still adjusting to the new rules - but tomorrow will be day 5. On top of that, our one housemate is mostly managing the inconvenience of staying out of contact with us (and the other has yet to return), and the little is slowly getting better. She's well enough now to enjoy being sick and so she fake coughs every time we ask her if she's getting better - so that she can avoid school and stay in her pyjamas all day. 

So I presume everything is okay and we're doing the best we can with the information we have - but I think I'd still like to know. Perhaps because I have a lingering sense of getting covid as being connected to some moral failure (even though I know that's wrong). Or perhaps simply because I'm tired of trying to make the best decisions when I don't feel like I know enough.

03 January 2022

Strength for the ordinary

As we face another January that is shaped by a pandemic and pivoting, my prayer is that I would be able to trust that God would give us enough strength and hope in all of it - and that I might see the joys of the world around me, even if it's only the proud exclamations of my child's colouring of a Paw Patrol character (or a lunch picnic in her bedroom). 

A poem by Lisa Rieck about Mary's response to the angel's news, posted at InterVarsity's Well, resonated with me - about the challenges of living into what we are being asked to do. I can be filled with adrenaline for a new challenge, but it's a lot harder to actually follow through with a project and to keep my heart open to hope and love.

The following is an excerpt:

"In that moment, 
our holiness soars to its feet, ready to 
greet whatever epic task was just passed to us.
 
It’s the next moments that matter...
 
when no one knows what to say to a girl who
claims her seeming disgrace is actually 
good news of grace for the world.
 
I hope then that I will still 
be the Lord’s servant, opening 
my hands to welcome, like a 
womb, the Word that is being fulfilled." 
Lisa Rieck 

I encourage you to read the full poem here.