39 weeks

Imagine if you suddenly lost your capacity to dream.

But then, maybe you're one of those people firmly rooted in the present. Or constantly looking towards the past. Then you won't relate.

I'm always thinking about the future. Like, there isn't a moment where the future isn't a bright, shiny ball of possibilities, just right outside my reach. I want so badly to achieve and to accomplish meaningful, useful things.

Imagine that the ability to stretch towards the ideal was completely taken away.

It wasn't instantly. It was very piecemeal. It started out with a conscious decision to delay my study of Czech... FOR A YEAR. Nobody except me can really understand what a big deal that was in my life. It was like consciously promising myself not to eat chocolate... For a year.

Slowly, one at a time, other projects got filed away for another time. Imagine a stack of files from the floor to the ceiling. These files are filled with things I'm interested in. One or two files per day would get tucked away in some unknown, unfindable cabinet, starting around the time I got pregnant in January. It wasn't super noticeable, least of all to anybody not living inside my head.

For the first few months very little had changed. I was still running, I went to a Genealogy conference across the country, I continued to blog, etc. The most noticeable change was when suddenly, without at least two dozen connected "files", I finally wasn't capable of blogging about Czech gen anymore. This happened around May or June.

It was terrible. I could still remember (obviously) my feelings and passion about this, but I could no longer participate. It was like my capacity, my interest, my passion - all these things were taken away. It is hard to explain to people who haven't experienced it. It's like preferring to stare at a blank wall rather than do what I used to love. It's like being unable to physically sit in a chair at a computer because it's so uncomfortable. It's like bursting into tears whenever someone is a jerk (or might be a jerk) to you on the internet: hint: that's all the time! For my own sanity, I had to focus on the files that remained in the pile.

There are only about a dozen left, and for me that's almost nothing. Even these files seem to be missing pieces; like, I still enjoy painting but only for very short bursts of time and only with lots and lots of ridiculous extrinsic praise. I still enjoy organizing my house and making it beautiful but nothing that involves physically moving things heavier than like, a poster, is included in the file anymore. I enjoy watching movies and talking about them with Danny. But I can't handle extremely violent or negative films, and the threshold for "extremely violent" is very low. I enjoy dressing up and looking nice for church, but there is only like, one choice of outfits to wear which fit me still. I enjoy more than anything spending time with Danny. It doesn't matter what we are doing. We could be staring at the wall together, though I worry constantly that he's irritated at or bored with me, when mostly he's just panicky about not being able to *do* anything to make me feel better.

I enjoy being with my family, especially my children. I can't bend down and pick things up and put them away, which is frustrating. I can't hold my three year old without it hurting, and she always wants to be held. We finished watching the entire series of My Little Pony together - twice. I enjoyed that even though towards the end I fell asleep in every episode.

I scroll online through an endless stream of news, ideas, thoughts, ads, clickbait, photos, videos, complaints, etc. I like it because it allows me to escape from the prison of my uninterested, lonely mind. I hate it because it's a soul-sucking world full of envy, innuendo, between the lines messages, and blatant cruelty. I disconnected myself from Facebook for a week and for me, my world was a much darker, worse place. Then I was completely alone except for the very brief time when Danny was home. The "friends" folders... They mostly are not exactly put away in the other cabinet, just strewn in a messy heap all over the room, papers everywhere, with one or two in places I know about. Some friends actually are completely put away.

There's going to have to be a massive mind cleaning when things get back to normal. It's going to take forrrrrrrrever.

A file that remains is the one for my personal scripture study. I don't think my faith itself is encapsulated in any of these files; that isn't something that goes away. I still find joy from reading the scriptures. Yesterday I read Alma 32. I really genuinely like this chapter. I find it uplifting. I wish I had more creative files left because those are the ones that I really, really love, but at least I can still find some small amount of joy from imagining the extended metaphor of the tree that Alma talks about. It's a form of creativity I suppose, though nobody but myself in my own head can share it. At least I still have this.

Alzheimer's patients lose their files in a similar way and then lose the ability to understand what they've lost. This is not the same thing as being miserably pregnant, obviously. My state is temporary and if everything goes as it always has, I'll start to bounce back the second the baby is born. Alzheimer's patients won't, at least not until after their bodies are resurrected, which is not going to be soon enough to feel very relevant.

Today I am 39 weeks pregnant. I've always gone into labor on my own at some point between 39 weeks and 40 weeks. Let's hope and pray that this will continue to be the pattern. I really miss my mind, and my body. I want it back.

Some random thoughts through a foggy brain

I landed the jackpot when I married Danny. He just pulled the three year old off me. She was yelling I want chips and nachos! I am laying down drooling into my pillow. Before I was laying on the family room floor. I get to about 4:00 every day and I'm just so exhausted. So exhausted. I feel like...

It's just so unfair that by 11:00 I'm wide awake again. Nearly every night I'm thinking or talking or full of ideas or plans or just... Talking... And it's time to sleep again?! What!

It isn't always like this. But I have been pregnant for a lot of years. And so it seems it's been like this forever.

It's nice to hold on to memories of me in a pretty body when we were traipsing around the Czech Republic a few months ago. Good memories of good people and interesting things to see. I could not move there permanently unless I became an expert in cooking Mexican food first. That should be somewhere on some priority list somewhere regardless. Sounds delicious.

My kids are all playing outside and they are so loud. But I don't care, I'm so tired. I just want to wake up and have it be nine months later.

I'm constantly reminded about how other people manage routines and schedules better than me. In a perfect world that would be something I'd have mastered by my freaking early thirties. But it isn't. And fog brain makes that harder. Things like scheduling dentist appointments and especially responding to emails. I am very bad at these things. It is so difficult to force myself to do something which doesn't sound fun.

So childish! It's lucky the things I think are fun are weird and helpful and productive. I think it's great to accomplish something worthwhile. But I'd only ever start projects if I weren't also strongly and deeply motivated by my personal feelings of connection with the people I work with.

Like, there's no way I would have worked so focusedly and exhaustively for Judith's genealogy problem if I didn't care about her. The relationship was motivating. The desire to please her and help her specifically. To do something right for her. To be praised and adored for solving the problem. Some combination of motivations all related to my relationship with her. I guess I'm not just motivated by admiration alone, but a complex intersection of thoughts and feelings that originate from my relationships. I'd move mountains for the people I love, without hesitation. If they tell me good job I'd purr in stupid illogical satisfaction like a kitty cat.

I want my friends who I collaborate with on projects to blink in stupefied amazement at my awesomeness. I want them to be pleased with both my personal progress and my objective progress. I want them to smile when they open a document and notice there are some hundred or thousand edits on something. I don't want them to feel like I'm destroying their work, but mostly I pick friends with thickish skins who are ok with criticism and discussion of ideas that they don't agree with. I want them to feel a deep sense of admiration and I guess respect is part of it. I guess I'd go more for awe. But these are all ridiculous aspirations that are not actually that worthwhile. Anyway friendships aren't built on wowing and awing an audience. But maybe there's something to the interesting discussion part. Maybe my currency is more simple than I thought: maybe it's just lots of shared words spent on anything at all. Ugh the love languages call that words of affirmation I guess. But it's hard for me to see where I fall in those categories. Too much fluffy psychobabble.

It would be better to focus on the service aspect of working together to build something great. It would also be better to set a schedule and work on my projects steadily. But I'm not a steady person like that. I am a sprinter.

I really am a sprinter. Except in real life I ran the distance races in cross country and track because I'm not really athletic enough to be a good physical sprinter. But the part of me that lives in my head is a sprinter. I take breaks. And I go all out. And then I take more breaks. I'm not a plotter, I'm a pantser.

It is very important to me to not sprint alone. I need meaningful friends in many different contexts who can help me to persevere until the end of a project. I want to finish things but I'm much better at starting them. I need the extra motivation of strong relationships to help me stay focused enough to see my goals through. It's immature probably, but it's also the truth.

I think I'd be a very lonely person without Danny in my life. He doesn't generally work on most of my projects with me, per se, but he listens to me talk and talk and talk and talk about them, and about my friends, and about my conversations, and about my dreams. He is a good man who is very steady. But we both can quite easily escape together to a mental jungle gym where we discuss things from every corner of the universe, which is such a great place to be. Like a virtual world where I'm a gorgeous avatar running around fighting dragons, not an old mom in need of a shower, in yoga pants and a t-shirt who nowadays gets sore in the pubic symphysis from a pathetically short walk around the block.

Kate's Updated Awkwardness Theory

Recently I've been finding that I don't have the words, in any language, to express what is really in my heart.

Maybe it's not so recent. Maybe it's the same irony of my brother in law, who is a master carpenter, having broken kitchen cupboards for years. Or my dad, who is a math teacher, having a daughter whose highest level of math was precalculus where I got a C+. Or how the electronics at my house, where I have an in-house computer expert, always seem to either be too complicated for normal users to use (cough cough the home theater) or broken. I sometimes think our house is the place where computers in our family and extended family come to die!

So maybe it's a similar irony for me, a person who really loves languages, not to have the ability to express myself in words.

My dad taught me how to play piano. I never had official "lessons." It was always impromptu after dinner things. He made sure I always had music that was interesting to me (like the Phantom of the Opera). I made him write out by hand the Czech songs that he used to play - these tunes I grew up hearing randomly when he felt like playing them. He taught me the fingering. I remember playing these songs for my Grandpa Vasicek, and he sang the words in Czech, which I did not understand at all, but which were apparently really funny because he laughed and smiled so big.

My dad told me that learning to play the piano would serve me well through my whole life because when I got too emotional or angry or whatever, music could be a really good outlet. I've never been a great player, and there is certainly a lot of pressure to be great in my family, where my uncle just retired from the National Symphony Orchestra, etc. etc. But when I'm not feeling frustrated at how crappily I play, what a precious gift it is, to be able to play at all. I don't play particularly well, but I enjoy it.

I've been trying to take better care of my mental health recently. Running, going to yoga (which is ridiculous, but it always makes me feel much better) - and more music. Right now I'm working on Debussy's Arabesque, another tune I grew up hearing.

I could write reams and reams - well, I guess a more apt measure would be bits and bytes - I could write terabytes of words. I could fill up libraries. But these stupid words would always fall short where music doesn't.

Sometimes throwing more and more words at a problem actually makes things much worse. My Awkardness Theory which I developed as a freshman at BYU is like this:

So, here is my Awkwardness Theory #2:

When you're in an awkward situation...

...the best thing to do might be...

...nothing. 

Later, when you are alone, a wordless outlet can be a real comfort. 

One in Three Billion

You can't see God. Well, you can. But you don't.

How do you know that He exists if you can't use your senses to observe Him?

*****

I've been dealing with a really frustrating health problem for the past three months. I know that something is wrong, but I don't know what it is yet. I feel it every day, almost every minute.

I'm not a doctor. Even though I have the world's largest library at my fingertips, there is nothing I can do on my own to discover what is going on with me. Nothing.

*****

And friendships. How do you manage them. How do you know that your friends who are far away care about you. How is it possible to be a good friend when you are far away. Is it?

Me: "Finding good friends that live nearby is kind of a matter of faith, too."
Danny: "And statistics."

That was probably the most depressing comment anyone could make. Somehow thinking that there is definitely 1 person out of every 3 million that would totally get me and want to be my friend makes it seem even less likely. 1/3,000,000 might as well be 0.

Danny: "But you're not that unlikable."
At this I burst into tears.

Later, talking about it more he says, "Like, 1/300 at the worst. And that's totally doable. It might take a little work."
[Danny is not actually a jerk. This is his way of flirting with me.]

By the way, I originally accidentally wrote 1/3,000,000,000, and Danny looked over my shoulder and said, "Whoah, one in three billion? You're definitely not that unlikable! That's like one out of a third of the world's population! If that's true it's a miracle you got married!"

*****

Epistemology. How can you know something. When do you need to let go and trust that something which feels right is right? If you can't observe something yourself, how do you release your pride and trust somebody else?

On Tuesday I meet with the specialist and they will interpret the results of the test I just had. Either they will know what is going on, or they won't, and they'll do another test. I feel pretty helpless.  

I want very much for my friends to care about me. I hope that they do. It would make logical sense; why would they endure me if they didn't like me, and how do you like someone you don't care about? When your friends are across states or continents, when you only communicate with them in silent lonely typed letters - how can you trust that they are real, that they think about you, and that they hope you stop feeling like your chest is on fire and you're swallowing shards of glass and your stomach is blown up like a giant balloon and the back of your head has a constant low buzzing ache and...?

I guess you just do?

It is easy for me to have faith in my God. It is a lot harder for me to have faith in my friends. Why should it be that way? Can't I be more trusting, more patient, more submissive? Why does my pride always force me to feel like I am unlovable? It's totally stupid. Even statistically.

*****

How I treasure a true and lasting friend.

Standing with me always to the end.

How they notice my thinnest faintest smile.

How they take me stripped of all my guile.

Inner worlding, talking mind to mind.

Sharp and witty. Sensitive and kind.

Holding steady, steering me aright.

Laughing freely. Always in the light.

Never lonely, never solitude.

No pariah. Not misunderstood.

Deepest friendship, worth beyond compare.

Lasting friendship.

Somewhere. Somewhere.

Instant Messaging with the Holy Ghost

It's been a really long time since I wrote something here.

I've had the name of this post in mind for about five months. I'm not sure exactly what I want to write.

I've always been a lonely person. There's always a void longing to be filled by another person. No matter how much I try to fill it, it remains. I've come to the conclusion that it's basically a condition of mortality for me to feel this way, and that someday when I can be reunited with my heavenly parents, it will be filled.

But God didn't send us to this earth alone. There's this third really weird member of the godhead called the Holy Ghost. We have been promised he can be with us at all times if we covenant to take upon ourselves the name of Jesus Christ through baptism.

If this is true, what a gift.

I think about feedback all the time: for my part time job teaching English, for what I wish could be my full time job learning Czech, and especially how easy it is to text with people I love. They are right there, at the tips of my fingers. I can open Facebook and peer into a soul. It's supposed to make me feel less lonely. I think for a very brief second, it does. It's like sugar: the instant you stop consuming, you crave more. It's like an addiction.

If the Holy Ghost were accessible via instant messenger, and I could get instant feedback on my life, would I like that? Would it make this test of earth life too easy? Would I listen to it?

Some really specific council I've received in my life is that my close and lasting friends should be honest and have high moral standards. I really crave close friendships with people who care about the same nerdy things that I do. For the first time in my life I've found multiple friends like this, but they are in a seven hour difference time zone. We mostly communicate through video chatting and instant messenger.

It's really enjoyable to video chat with my in-laws. The dedicated time and focus and the slight lag all combine to create this personal space where we all feel heard. Perhaps even better than in real life, where physical things get in the way of our communication. Dinner. Diaper blowouts. Awkwardness that is normally hidden slightly by the camera. I'm a professional at this one.

Would I enjoy this kind of relationship with the Holy Ghost?

No. I want something even more personal.

Sometimes I catch myself mentally writing a Facebook update or a post in Czech about some mundane thing. It's really nice to have someone on the other side read it and actually care about me and my raw thoughts, someone who isn't in my physical world.

I couldn't write even a millionth part of my thoughts. There isn't a human soul alive who could satisfy my desire for meaningful connection, not even my dear husband who has a really uniquely intimate stewardship over my mind.

But God can do anything! And he knows me perfectly. I don't always hear him, or see him, or notice him, but I trust he's there and that he cares about me. I hope that someday I'll get a massive backload of life feedback, where the communication is crystal clear, where there's no doubt as to his role or presence in my life, where billions of those tiny personal spaces (like instant messenger boxes, video chat window, comments in a Google doc, etc.) flood over me enough to fill the void. I guess that is what heaven would be like for me.

The Plan of Salvation through Disney Lyrics

DISNEY VERSION

Premortal Life

"I can go the distance! I don't care how far! Somehow, I'll be strong! I know every mile will be worth my while. I would go most anywhere to find where I belong!" (Hercules)

"Home! Love! Family! There was once a time I must have had them too! Home, love, family - I will never be complete until I find you!" (Anastasia - not Disney, but whatever)

Satan's Plan

"The future is littered with prizes, and though I'm the main addressee, the point that I must emphasize is, you won't get a sniff without me!" (the Lion King)

"Trust in me, just in me, shut your eyes, and trust in me!" (the Jungle Book)

Agency: God's Plan 

"I've got no strings to hold me down, to make me laugh, to make me frown, you've got strings, but as you see, there are no strings on me!" (Pinocchio)

Creation

"A Whole New World!"

"Somehow I'll make a man out of you!" (Mulan)

Garden of Eden

"Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities, forget about your worries and your strife!" (the Jungle Book)

The Fall

"Put your faith in what you most believe in. Two worlds, one family!" (Tarzan)

Earth Life

"From the day we arrive on the planet, and blinking step into the sun, there's more to see than can ever be seen or to do, than can ever be done. It's the circle of life!"

"I'm WISHING! For the one I love! To FIND ME! Today!"

Death

"Life is brief, but when it's gone, love goes on and on!" (Robin Hood)

"Goodbye may seem forever, farewell is like the end, but in my heart is a memory, and there you'll always be!" (the Fox and the Hound)

Spirit World

"You can fly! You can fly! You can fly! You can fly! You can FLY!" (Peter Pan)

"I wanna be where the people are...up where they walk, up where they run, up where they stay all day in the sun, wanderin' free, wish I could be part of that world!" (the Little Mermaid)

Resurrection

"I'll be cooking again, be good-looking again, With a mademoiselle on each arm, When I'm human again, Only human again, Poised and polished and gleaming with charm...I'll be courting again, Chic and sporting again...I can't wait to be human again!" (Beauty and the Beast, Extended Version)

Judgment

"Am I a man? Or am I a muppet? If I'm a muppet, then I'm a very manly muppet!" (The new Muppet Movie)

Celestial Kingdom

"Anything your heart desires will come to you!" (Pinocchio)

"Far longer than forever! Like no love ever known! And with your love I'll never be alone!" (the Swan Princess - okay so it's not Disney...)

Terrestrial Kingdom

"Hakuna matata! What a wonderful phrase! Hakuna matata, ain't no passin' craze! It means no worries for the rest of your days! It's our problem free philosophy! Hakuna Matata!" (the Lion King)

Telestial Kingdom

"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag!" (Mary Poppins)

Outer Darkness

"Poor, unfortunate souls!" (the Little Mermaid)

"In the tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki room! In the tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki room!" [aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!] 

Baby vs. Big Girl

Jane and I started having a conversation about the difference between being a baby and a big girl.

Babies

(pros)

• Don't get in trouble for making mistakes, because they don't know any better
• Don't know how to talk
• Can cry and whine without getting in trouble because that is the only way they know how to talk

(cons)

• Have to take lots of naps
• Can't choose what clothes to wear
• Can't choose what food to eat
• Have to eat lots of mushy food and drink lots of bottles with milk
• Are only allowed to play with boring baby toys, like rattles

Big Girls

(pros)

• Can take rests instead of naps
• Can choose what clothes they can wear
• Can choose what foods they can eat
• Can eat tasty food
• Can drink out of cups instead of bottles.
• Can play with fun toys like dress ups, cars, and draw
• Can talk instead of whine

(cons)

• You have to take care of your toys
• You have to be obedient
• You have to be obedient quickly
• You have to be kind to your brothers
• Sometimes things don't happen the way you want them to, and then you just have to say, "oh bummer."
• Need to use words instead of crying for things you want

Now that we've had this discussion, which I really thing she "gets", when she starts whining or throwing a tantrum, I will ask her if she is acting like a big girl, or like a baby. If she is acting like a baby, then I will treat her like a baby, and put her to bed. But if she wants to be a big girl, she will stop crying and use her words. 

This is just a huge, massive process. I think the main mistake that I have made so far has to do with toys. Even if Jane can play with them, I can't expect her to be able to prevent her brothers (who definitely cannot) from playing with them. That's not really fair, because it's really difficult to play AND protect at the same time. The mistake I made this morning was with crayons. Jane wanted to color. I let her have a box of crayons in the play room, and let John Rex play in there too, so I could go change an exploding diarrhea diaper (Dan's). I came back to John Rex crouching on top of the table with a crayon in his mouth, and crayons all over the place, and Jane oblivious. 

So basically, "big girl" toys will have to be supervised until the baby is a big boy. Except like...dress ups. But even those - yeah. This is basically one of the difficulties of being a parent to three small kids. The toys have to be less than or equal to the level of the youngest child at home. Maybe it would be more difficult, though, if I had an 8 year old who loved legos, and an infant at the same time. Except the 8 year old is more capable of cleaning up legos than my 3 year old. I've been at peoples' homes where the 3 year old is the baby. 

Kind of sad that she doesn't get to be the "baby" as long as she might have. However, looking at those pros/cons lists, I definitely think that being a "big girl" is well worth giving up some of the pros of being a baby. I could make the same list comparing "big girl" to "mom." It's definitely worth it to be a mom, some of the pros I get. Mostly having to do with my own expanded ability to choose for myself.