Just around the corner...

Sometimes I feel like mama is just around the next corner. 

I will turn and see her there. 
I will feel her arms about me and snuffle my nose in her hair.
But then she isn't and I feel lost, and small and clumsy and scared.
I cannot tell anyone about these non-encounters.
They wouldn't understand.
It's just crazy 'ol me, looking around corners.
And wishing that she was there. 

tough days

Well, yesterday I had my immune system infusion and it did not go well.  I feel pretty badly today and just want to stay curled up in a ball.  It is so hard for Stan when I am like this.  I know it is hard for the kids too.  I just freeze. 

I hate my health and my issues.  I wish I were someone else.  I know that is stupid, though.  A lot of people have it way worse than me.  I just have days like these when I feel sort of alone and detached.  I'm sure I am unpleasant to be around. 
Lord give me patience to do the next right thing.  Should I go to the doctor?  Do I have a sinus infection?  Why do I hurt so badly?

I need to work and earn a living.  Having two jobs just now is a little confusing.  I am ready to have just one job at athletics if they will take me.  I will miss St. Ed's horribly if I leave but it seems like the hand writing is on the wall there.  I am grateful I seem to have an alternative. 
And yet, what about this failing, crappy body of mine?  Will it let me work and care for this family?  I have to. There is no choice in the matter.  I just have to pull myself together and paste on a smile.  Today is just a tough day.  I am sure tomorrow will be better.

clothing blues

Does anyone else get the clothing blues?  I have them, bad.  I have not been buying many clothes and all of a sudden I feel like the drabbest, pudgiest, most middle ageist woman on the planet. 
I know it is dumb and sort of self centered.  I mean, our 'outer layer' does not matter much.
But, all the same, I like my outer layer to look somewhat orderly.
I think this has to do with my mom.  She was a clothes horse of massive proportions.  She left behind a lot of nice clothes, some of which I have worn in the last few months.  But, I am feeling weird about that.  I am also feeling weird about the fact that I threw out stuff that was too big but am still too fat for some of her things.  That makes me feel bad.
I am sort of being my own inner mom....
She would have been the first to tell me I look sort of drab.
I miss that honesty.  I miss the irritant that only my mother could be to me. 

I miss her mommy smell. 
I miss her. 

This I Believe

I have given my St. Ed's students a "This I Believe" assignment again.  I find it is a good way for us to all get to know one another at the beginning of the semester and it gives me a writing sample.
I can't believe (pun intended) that NPR stopped the program again.  I guess they felt overwhelmed by the number of essays.  Well, I never got mine turned in so they need to re-start the show:)
Over the semesters I have used this for an assignment I always give out "my" topic to use in the examples and outlines I give.  So, this week I have been talking to the students about my deep and abiding faith in cookies.
So, without further adieu, we now have an essay from Katie Kelfer-Taylor, for "This I Believe." cue music....

"Cookies"

I believe in the power of cookies to heal the heart and soothe the savage appetite.
Whenever I am in some sort of spiritual crisis or great amount of worry, I have found that cookies can solve nearly all global issues: simply and sweetly.
This is a solution taught to my siblings and I by our father.  As a child, one of my favorite activities for late and sleepless nights (of which I had many) was to meet my dear daddy at the door to the refrigerator or cabinet for a clandestine cookie raid.  My mother did not sanction this behavior.  She believed that people who are born short and tend towards stocky, like me and dad, had no business consuming sweet things.  She did, however, bake and provide them.   So, on some level, she wanted us to be happy.
And we were.  There were no restrictions or limits on late night cookie eating.  You were there because you were sleepy or felt crappy or needed companionship.  Daddy's thinking was that if you pretended you were asleep, you could not be held responsible for the piggy nature of your actions.  Also, the calories DID NOT COUNT.
My sister and brother share this deep appreciation for all things cookie.  This fall, after our mom passed away from cancer, my brother and I got together and the first thing we did was polish off a bag of cookies.  I don't know the existential reason for it, but it helped.
My sister, who is fit and trim and fights to stay above cookie worship, has had her moments.  I remember she told me once that her husband occasionally finds her in the morning, asleep with cookie crumbs on her chest and a smile on her face.

I think that sort of says it all.  Whatever issue was too hard to bear has been banished if not abolished. The darkness of reality was successfully repelled.  The weapon?  Sweet and gooey or crisp and crunchy, The Cookie  is always ready to do battle. 
I use to see this as a failure.  But now, with my parents gone and the world a pretty scary place, I embrace it.
Sweet oblivion, even with calories, is not a bad place to be.  

sick kids suck

My kiddos have been sick with a tummy bug for a couple of days.  They are such babies still when it comes to being sick. They want me to know EVERYTHING.  They want me to pat their heads and scratch their backs and say, "awwwww."
I should not be so impatient but I have been sick so much the last couple of years that my misery tolerance is somehow lower.  I want them to: GO BACK TO SCHOOL. I don't know if I have it.  I am very achy and tired but I did FOMAK yesterday. 

Samuel just announced another barf.  Yeah. 
Barf ON!

FOMAK

This is my new abbreviated phrase: Fall On My Ass Knees. 
That is what I did today.  I did not even know I had Ass Knees, but I do.  I fell on my knees and then my ass on the way into UT this morning.  It was quite a jolt.  My left knee is unhappy and my back hurts.  But... Thank God nothing broke.  A nice looking young man on a bike stopped and tried to help me.  He was so cute!
I was all cleaned up and trying to look cool and what do I do???? FOMAK.

Life

Kids are barfing....
Dogs are stinking...
My mind is shrinking.
Oh shit I want to complain.
Then I think and sometimes remember
Nothing ever stays the same..

Each day passes, either good or bad.
I can't control them, only live through them and hope..
I gave them the best I had.  

There was good today.
I won't forget.
Focus on the promise.
Remember the gift.

Exposure: toxic

I must have gotten into some gluten tonight.  We stopped at Taco Cabana and I ate a salad but there must have been something in the meat or the rice and beans.  The response was almost instant and is still with me.  I had to take some pain meds so now I cannot sleep, even though I'm very tired.  I have thrown up a bit too but am trying to avoid an er visit.  I am just going to muscle this out the best I can. 
I have to say that when this happens to me and I spend a night like this I feel really lonely.  Stan leaves the room (for his own sleep preservation) and the dogs steer clear of me. 
I guess I should try to look on the bright side of this.  It seems to clearly indicate that gluten free is helping.  So, how do I get up and haul HB to the doctor early in the morning?  Don't know.  Too bad the meds don't give a happy high.  OWWWWW.  It still hurts.  Damn it.  What do I do?

Energy!

I had some energy today.  It was amazing.  I got stuff done and then I exercised with the Kinect dance video. 
I felt/ feel really grateful.  I am not even in much pain.  I am so used to feeling fairly crappy and getting by that I don't know what to do with this.  I just pray it lasts.

I am still freaked out about school starting next week but I need to chill out.  It will happen and I will be there and there is nothing I can do to "fix" it.  I will make it to both campuses or I won't.  I will find out when I get there.

I wish I had been born a Buddhist instead of a MethoJew.  I think I might be calmer...  By the way, for the uninitiated, a MethoJew is a kid with a Jewish daddy and a Schicksa mama who grew up in the United Methodist Church.  After much cognition and theology and years of self examination, my friend, David, told me a few months ago, "don't you know you are a MethoJew?"  I did not know that.  But, yes, I am. 
I shall never be either fish nor fowl.  I do not completely feel like I fit in a Methodist church at times and I do feel I fit in at the Temple.  But, there is this irritating question of theology.  I am a (very closeted Jesus freak).
I do not believe there is one path.  There are many, many paths to God.  They vary by culture and time.  But, the Jesus thing works for me.  I believe God gives a damn enough to contact us through human flesh.  I am not sure how it all works but I think it occurs right on the cross.  Right there, God steps in and says, "This one is mine.  I am feeling you, man.."
Or something like that.
But, I wish I had known more Judaism as a child.  It is a very safe world that echoes very, very deeply.  I have tried to learn but I know I will always be a half assed Jew. 
In this time and this place I am a MethoJew.  I am seeking but never completely found.  But, then again, maybe I should quit thinking so much!

Discipline

Discipline Schmiscipline.

  Don't like it. 
Must have it or nothing gets done.
And then we are left with:
Nothing.
Dirty house.
Smelly animals.
Children running free and unsupervised.
Hmmmm.
It doesn't sound so bad if you are a pet or a child.
Can I be a golden retriever? 
I want to run: smelly and undisciplined...
Into the sun.

Trust...that what you can give is enough.

I just had to give my daughter a pep talk.  She is on the school science team primarily because it is where her friends hang out.  They are immensely competitive and she worries that her "average" science will drag them down.  She said if it were a writing contest or drawing, she could kick butt.  True.  But, I have been trying to get across to her that sometimes just being there is enough. 

I don't think I have been a very good example of this. 
My rules for myself and for those I love are often too harsh.  I only accept everyone's best.  Maybe I am learning that just showing up is okay too.  If anything, being a parent will beat that into your head.   I certainly am not always at my best as a parent... or as a teacher.  Some days, we phone it in and just try to hold the phone.

I wonder if the Divine already knows that about us?  Maybe His/Her expectations are that we do our best but that sometimes it's ok if we only show up for the job.  I don't know.  I have always felt that I had to go 110% on everything or I had failed.  That is a tough set up.  I see that now.
Hmmm. Food for thought on a early Friday morning... I need to get ready for my St. Ed's classes.  What I am doing here is pretty clear: PROCRASTINATION!

Glutton Free

Well, I have been off of gluten for four weeks now and diagnosed with Celiac's for a week.  I am definitely better.  There is quite a learning curve involved but I think I am getting there.  My dear, adopted brother has labeled my new life style as : glutton free living.  Not true!
I can still find ways to pig out and gain weight:)  So, I think the "poor me, I better eat an extra gluten free cookie" days are over. 
They better be or I'm going to be the fattest gluten free girl around.

Hi God; it's me, Katie.

I am so scared of my new schedule.  I think I can do it but I am worried about my body holding up.  I have to trust this will all come out okay.  I have some great opportunities before me and I don't want to mess them up!
I have to remember that I am not the driver here.  I forget that on a moment by moment basis... sort of like the fish, Dory, in "Finding Nemo."  I think I am all that and all in control and stuff and then I cannot park my car well.
I'm blind.
I really cannot see out of one eye and I don't do corners.  You know how there is a blind spot over your shoulder when you drive?  Mine is HUGE.  I realize this means no one will want to ride with me but hey, I'm pretty good.
I just don't do corners.  I try to ignore them or just plow over them.  That is a pretty good metaphor for how I deal with God in my life.  I try to drive over Him and cut the corners without looking.  Perhaps I need to re-think that.

computationally challenged

After I started this thing yesterday, I announced it on Facebook.  But, I could not tell anyone how to get to it!
How silly is that?  I seriously dislike the part of myself that cannot handle the computer or that gets lost driving home.  Why is that?  I wonder if it has anything to do with my right eye not working.  Parts of me are just non-functional.  Weird.  I am functional in most other ways...just challenged.
Maybe that's the point.  What would  life be without the challenge?  I seem to seek them out.  I really am living Wesley's "moving on toward perfection" but in SLOW MOTION.

Today I return to UT athletics after a twelve year hiatus.  I will go back to work six hours a week with the student athletes and do what I can for them.  I was once so at home there.  It will be strange to return  but exciting. 
I dearly love St. Edward's but I cannot afford to count on them for my only work.  They are not going to hire me full-time and I cannot even get three courses a semester.  It just is not enough to pay the bills.  So, back to UT I go....
This semester I will be in both places.  On MWF I will leave the house at 7:00 and go to UT.  I will teach there from 8-10 and then go to St. Ed's.  My classes there are at 11 and 12.  It is going to be tight but I have to do it.
Strength.  Peace.  Deep Cleansing Breaths.

professorkatiemommy tries a blog

I tried a poetry blog once.  I found the exposure too much.  But, times have changed and we all talk about ourselves on facebook.  I now read other blogs and really appreciate what folks have to say.  So, I am going to try it again.  This blog will contain essays and poetry that I write.  Most all of it is self-referential. 
If anyone reads it, cool.  If not, it is an electronic version of the journals I used to keep by the bed. 

By way of introduction, I am a mother of two humans and multiple pets.  I teach part-time at a local University, English, and occasionally at a bigger University (Go Longhorns!).  In my dark and distant past I was a United Methodist minister.  I still have a call but believe it now to be in teaching more than in preaching. I am married to my childhood sweetheart, who is the best thing God ever game me.  He is a software developer and has a PhD in German linguistics.  (I know...:)  I have been blessed abundantly in this life but still struggle to live the walk and not just talk it.  Here is me:



Today I read a witness posted written by my deceased uncle, Russell Kelfer.  Reading his work, which has long survived him, made me realize that words are the things that speak down through time.  They nourish and flourish with a life of their own.  They really are immortal.  Perhaps that is what I am seeking.  I realize on this day in 2011 that I am middle aged:  Forty five and now both parents are deceased.  I have been rushing through life, caring for children, teaching and surviving.  But now, today, I think there needs to be more.



My health has been precarious and not a little scary of late.  I have an autoimmune disorder that is treated each month with an IVIG infusion and now have found I have Celiac's disease and God knows what else. 
I am dis-eased.  I need a spiritual cure as well as a medical one and I know it.  Today I consciously re-gave my heart to my Lord.  I am a liberal, progressive type Christian and frankly, doubt is easier than belief. 
I am praying to be open to His will and power in my life.  I know it is there.  I have always known.  I had just forgotten and grown angry and distant from Him. 

The connecting thread in all this is my uncle.  He suffered a great deal physically throughout his relatively short life and yet he did the Work he was sent to do.  He was dogged about it.  I like the image he used in the piece I read: God uses the broken to show others the way to healing.  (That is not exactly what Uncle Rusty said but what I got.)  I'm broken.  I'm tired and scared. 
My sweet daddy, Harold, and my sweet mommy, Kathy, both died from cancer.  Both were my theological mentors.  I was fortunate to have them: very fortunate.  Uncle Rusty was a known factor in my life but not close.  Family politics and world-view kept us all apart.  And yet, he spoke to me today.  I feel like he sent me a message from my family: being broken is okay.  "Fear not, then said the angel..." and today I heard. 

And the angel told me to speak.  And so I have, "The Word is made flesh and dwelt among us, glory to God in the highest."