Tag: unique

I’m Fine (Don’t Go Deep)

March 13, 2021

I’m Fine (don’t go deep)

You know, someone says politely, “How are you today?”

Preprogrammed for courtesy, we reply automatically, “I’m fine.”

But are you really “fine?”

Or does that really mean, “I’m hurting, but don’t ask?”

In our society, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of pretending we are okay.  Of pretending there is nothing behind our mask distorting our inner soul or crushing our heart or making rivers of silent tears run.  We bottle up the true emotions we are feeling and hide them safely where no one can touch them. 

Where no one can judge us.

Where no one can think we are imperfect.

Why do we want to appear perfect?  Why is it not okay to show vulnerability?  Why is a parenting question suddenly turned into an accusation that we are not fit to be a parent?  Why is a question about how to handle an emotion turned into an accusation that we are depressed?  Why must we instantly judge others instead of allow them to safely talk through their emotions?  Can’t we all admit that sometimes we are angry? Irritated with a coworker? Disappointed with a child? Frustrated by a situation? Unsure about feelings?  Can’t we all admit that we are not perfect?

When we comprehend the full meaning of the word “Forgiveness” we can choose not to judge others or ourselves. 

Forgiveness is love.

Forgiveness understands that we listen and let it go.  Forgiveness understands we are all imperfect. Forgiveness doesn’t consistently remind a person of a previous failing.  Forgiveness is not holding a grudge. Forgiveness doesn’t gossip. When you find someone who truly understands forgiveness, treasure that true friend!  Strive to be that friend yourself.

I process emotion by writing because I can’t always be talking with someone who will just listen.  I’d love for there to be a portal like in Star Trek where I can say, “beam me to” and instantly be at my best friend’s house so we can discuss mutual struggles and listen to each others’ individual issues without judging. 

I understand forgiveness. She understands forgiveness.  We both understand that sometimes just admitting to another human that we are human is enough to help us work through our challenges.  This I think is the essence of the verse where it says “iron sharpening iron;” we are to listen, encourage, and edify.  We are to speak the truth in love.  We are to listen with love.  My Daddy used to say, “God gave us two ears and one mouth because He wants us to listen more than we speak.”  I still twist back to “To Kill a Mockingbird” and Atticus telling Scout that in order to understand a man you have to listen well, put on his shoes, wiggle your toes around, and walk a ways with him. 

Listen.

Don’t judge.

Be quick to forgive and slow to wrath.

When I feel overwhelmed, I pray.  I sometimes wish I could just talk to an understanding friend.  I don’t like facades.  I don’t like pretending I’m okay.  Yes, I understand that God is in control and that everything will turn out in a way to glorify Him; but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to ask rhetorical questions that I already have answers to just to help my brain process the thoughts or emotions within.  My feelings are real.  They are valid.  I know how to make my mind calm and to cast all my worries on Jesus.  My desire to discuss my emotions with another honest human is not agreeing that I don’t trust; it’s admitting that I’m human and don’t want the festering hidden thoughts to poison my mind. 

In my Devonians world, the adults talk as if they have no fear of each other.  They ask questions and advice of each other.  They admit to fault.  They don’t pretend to know everything.  They act the way I feel.  They are the epitome of what I imagine we were made to be.  Honest humans who discuss feelings and help each other.  Of course, that’s fiction.  But using that world and the characters within it help me to put my questions to a nonjudgmental audience – I basically have them discuss things that sometimes never make it to my books so I can understand my own mind and heart.  Crazy?  Yes.  Truth?  Yes.

I miss my Daddy the most when I am overwhelmed.  Even though I still pretended I was fine all the time, I could get him to discuss theoretical issues with me or book scenarios that moved my mind to a happier place. 

Like music.  Loud, fast music that I can sing to.  (Can’t sing anymore but my hope is that someday my voice and lungs will heal and I’ll be able to sing again. Thea’s never heard me sing a song that doesn’t sound like a dying chicken.)

How are you?  What do you need to talk about?  Or as Philip usually asks Jamie in Little Thief, “what is it you don’t want to talk about?” – because he knows his little brother better than anyone else…  He is an understanding friend.

I encourage you to find a true friend with whom you can discuss anything that is troubling you.  Someone who will listen to your heart.  Someone to whom you can listen.  Listen, encourage, and pray together.  Build each other up instead of tear each other down. 

Sharpen each other!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

My Little Learner

March 29, 2020

My Little Learner

Our gym has an after-school program where our comfy vans pick up from several area schools and bring little athletes back to gym. They do gymnastics, crafts, eat snacks, and do homework. Thea and her other gym baby friend sometimes hang out there. Thea loves it and thinks she’s a big kid! Just like at home, she tries to do school with them!

Especially when someone wants to play teacher! Ellie loves to play teacher and Thea loves to “learn” and she likes the chalkboard.

At home, Thea knows not to eat coloring tools like pencils, crayons, markers, and even paints! At Aunt Becca’s she got introduced to big sidewalk chalk and tasted it. Sister-cousin Anastasia laughed and said, “eww, gross Baby Thea, you color with it like me!”

Once Thea saw that, it was like “aha! this is an outside coloring tool!”

Sitting with Becky one day, she pulls up a pencil and paper and says “yeah!” and starts babbling in her own way, giving us serious glances as she explains what her work is. Jillian said, “Thea thinks she’s doing school!”

Thea and Becky are quite alike. Becky understood before her first year that coloring tools were not to be eaten too. Baby Becky never ate Legos (except for the black squishy tires, she called them gum and we had to remove them temporarily – I think she still secretly stashes them somewhere and chews them). Baby Becky was my earliest potty trainer (at 14 months telling us when she had to go & by 18 months in regular underwear – I have no clue how!) and Thea is already potty training herself. She got super excited when I bought a baby potty for her tiny self – and knows exactly what it’s for (showed us by pulling at her diaper so we took it off & she used the potty, I teased Becky that she may lose the designation of youngest potty trained).

I love watching my little love get more independent. Each one of them unique and special. Each has different strengths and weaknesses. Each helps the other in various tasks to make us a cohesive team – we build on each others’ strengths.

This is how we all should be. Learning, assisting, encouraging; each doing what we do best and helping when and where we can. It isn’t just for siblings or families. This understanding of the learning and growing and maturing process is an important life skill.

And Thea is playing in the grass without eating it – amazing! She is totally a little Becky… until Uncle Buddy came along and taught 2-year-old Becky she could eat dollar weed (and then she wouldn’t quit eating them!).

Thank you for Reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Movie Thoughts: Knowing

March 28, 2019

Movie Thoughts: Knowing

The other night we had a movie night.  This had to be something mostly family friendly because everyone was awake.  Yes, even Thea was awake, but I’m sure she wasn’t paying attention to the movie just yet.

See, maybe because I’m old, or a morning person, or was exhausted from the work week, or… I’ll figure out an excuse later… short of it is, I go to sleep early.  Okay, earlier than my teens… okay, even earlier than my almost-teen.  My husband works late.  He is a night-owl.  So they usually watch anything that has too much blood, bad words, or unsafe-for-little-people-stuff after I’m asleep.

SO… queue the air-popped popcorn with yummy butter and salt, some fresh-cut potato French Fries and Sweet Potato Fries, and lemonade… the movie was on.

We watched Nicholas Cage in “Knowing.”

Louis said it was a horror film.  (I asked if he had lost his marbles… I wanted the little ones to sleep in their beds!)   Honestly, I think this designation was to entice the teens to watch it with us.

Oh my goodness.  What a strange, twisting, amazing movie.

**SPOILER ALERT**

If you want to watch the movie without knowing all the twists, stop reading now and go borrow it from the library.  Seriously, this is worth the watch.  We will likely watch it again.

The story acts like a psychological thriller.  Strange dark-cloaked “apparitions” aka “ghosts” aka “spirits” appear and disappear through the 50 years of time reflected in the film.  “Whispers,” as the affected children call the voices in their heads, keep relaying numerical information and give visions to the children after the dark-cloaked strangers give them an otherworldly rock.

Dad (Nicholas Cage) is a grieving widower astrophysicist pastor’s son who has turned his on faith and believes, as he tells his students, that the universe is a collection of haphazard mistakes and there is nothing but chaos.  He drowns his hopeless unbelief in a variety of alcoholic beverages to self-medicate his depression.

The son is hard of hearing (wears a hearing aid) and deeply misses his mother and the happiness that lived in his home before her death.  He happens to be given a message from the first child (written 50 years ago and locked in a time capsule at her/his school) that is a sheet of apparently random numbers.

But the numbers aren’t random.  They are the date (in short form) of a catastrophe and the number of people who died from it… and the “unknown” digits following (which if you have been listening to a Civil Air Patrol Chief talking about orienteering and navigation by GPS, you see that these same length “unknown” numbers are latitude and longitude).

What clenches it for Dad is when he finds the date of his wife’s death (a fire that claimed many) as one of the catastrophes in this list.  He realizes this message is personally meant for his family.  Now he launches into investigation to find out who wrote the message, where she is, why she wrote it, and to find the connection to his family.

Symbolism begins to appear here as the audience starts figuring out the story.  The first hint for me was the fire vision with the animals fleeing but nowhere to go.  (Destroy the Earth by fire.)  The dark-cloaked strangers have shielded eyes but bright faces.  (How would you hide glory unless shielded by darkness yet there’s still light in their faces?)  This is revealed at the very end with the darkness falling away and now they are bright, amazing beings.  (And the viewer whispers, “every time a person sees an angel, they have to say “fear not,” no wonder!”)

When “EE” is revealed to be “Everyone Else” the title is explained.  Now, they know.

At the end sequence, notice the “Pearly Gates,” “streets of gold,” “white linen garments,” and other symbolism played out – how they make it come to life is pure amazement.  Everything is explained in such a unique way.

This movie is rated PG (likely for the alcohol and “disturbing images”).  It’s actually very well put together.  The storyline seems fractured but falls into place and you wonder how you missed it.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Motivation

How Becky discovered gymnastics and is now motivated to workout for personal improvement! Mom is thankful for her fitness goals!

January 12, 2019

Motivation

Sometimes motivation comes from a course you don’t expect.

I often find motivation coming from my study or from life events.

For Becky, the motivation to workout has just never been there.  Christina got motivated to run and work out when she joined Civil Air Patrol.  Kimberly always wants to beat everyone, so when her dad, sisters, or sister-cousins were running, she matched them, when her sister and friends were seeing who could do the most push-ups or pull-ups or climb the rope fastest, she had to work harder.  Jaquline and Jillian get motivated anytime dad, mom, or one of their big sisters happens to be working out.  Lucas never stops.

Then Becky signed up for gymnastics.

Becky suddenly wanted to be the best.  Becky found her motivation to work harder and get stronger.

I am so thankful that she’s found something to help motivate her toward a healthier state.

For some people, a fitness gym or club with others to hold them accountable works, for others, the freedom of working out at home or on the go with the possible aid of an online coach is perfect, others need a structured team event, some need a goal like training for a 5K.  I love helping people find and exploit their motivation towards being healthier.

For me, health has been our lifestyle, so modifying my lifestyle in various ways to make healthy easier for us is always in the back of my mind.  So as my schedule continually gets busier, my commitment to one fuel and nutrient packed shake each morning has definitely helped me stay on track!

I love watching the girls grow in their personal choices.  I am excited about the educational, fitness, and social gains Christina has made at Civil Air Patrol.  She’s grown so much in the past year and a half!  I can’t wait to see what gains Becky makes in her personal life as she advances in gymnastics – what growth will she produce toward her goal?

Only time will tell, but I’m excited that Becky has found some motivation in her health because I want her to be the very best she can be!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Different Woods

How can splitting wood teach us about life?

October 10, 2018

Different Woods

Have you ever split wood?  As a child, I watched my Daddy split wood for a fireplace when we stayed at a cabin in the Smoky Mountains.  We camped all the time, so being in a cabin was a little different for us – we were actually going to spend that Christmas in an A-frame cabin with a big fireplace!  I was young, but remember being so excited.  We were praying for snow!

I’d helped chop wood a few times before this, but it was never splitting big round logs, it was always just cutting small roots or scrap wood from fallen trees discovered in the backyard so the scrap bits would fit in our firepit.  I’d always used this tiny ax. (Daddy called it a hatchet, and although he said “the Indians in Davy Crocket used weapons exactly like this,” we were warned NEVER to play with the hatchet.  We made “hatchets” out of wood to run around like Indians instead.)

At the cabin, Daddy was using the BIG ax, it had about a three foot handle, maybe four feet, with a weighted gleaming head.  Daddy would raise that ax up over his head, swing hard, and with a crash it would come down.  Most of the time, his blows would chop the round wood into three or four hunks.  Sometimes, the ax went thud and stuck.  Daddy would step on the wood, wiggle the ax, and go again.  Sometimes, the ax would take three of four cuts to split the wood.

My sisters, brother, and I were watching, fascinated at our Daddy’s strength, from what Mom considered a “safe distance” – I’m pretty sure we were inside watching through the window, but can’t be sure.  What I do remember, is what he said to us later.  It might have been a day or so later, but I remember the wood-splitting was fresh in my mind and we were sitting around the fireplace when he started talking.

“Did you see how it’s easy to cut one type of wood but harder to cut another?” Daddy asked.

We all nodded, my brother pointed out some “really tough woods” (oak).

“But I was using the same ax and I’m the same person, so it was about the same effort for each one,” Daddy said, “it’s the same with parenting.  God gave us each of you and you are all different in your own special ways.”  (The way he smiled at us when he said that made us look at each other and giggle.)

“We are the same parents, trying to use the same methods, but since each of you are different types of wood…” Here I’m sure someone yipped, “I’m this one!” (oak, of course) Daddy smiled but continued, “so we have to find different methods of teaching each of you so that in the end, we can tell God we’ve done our best.”

As I look at this memory, I realize that Daddy was probably encouraging my mom and himself (as we would have been about 8, 6, 4, 2, and almost here) and they were “early” in their own parenting journey.

This illustration of parenting is also an illustration of everything in life.  I’ve remembered this “different wood” lesson and applied it to most things in my life.  Teaching – each child is unique so it is understandable that they would each learn differently.  Friendship – each friend is different and  therefore has different likes and dislikes.  Parenting – YES, huge here, true.

Last Sunday, this memory was brought to the forefront because our pastor used chopping wood for his example of how we apply different metrics to each part of our lives.  If we judge ourselves by same metrics or measures when we strike a softwood (it shattered into perfect sticks) as when we are striking slightly petrified oak (crud, the ax stuck fast), we would be discouraged.  Just as we use different strokes and techniques when chopping different woods, we use different metrics or measures in evaluating ourselves in various areas of life.

Each area of life is unique, as we grow and change throughout our lives.  The measures we used ten years ago shouldn’t be the same measures we use today (we measure babies’ length in inches but adult height in feet).  We also should use different measures for different areas of our life.  For example: We may find challenges in using patience while trusting God is easy.  Just because patience is more of a challenge, doesn’t mean we are failing at being patient.

Thank you, God, for giving us easy examples to help us not judge ourselves too harshly.  Let us see our life progress through Your eyes.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Odd Biology

Some thoughts on how unique our biology is; we are each uniquely beautiful.

March 13, 2018

Odd Biology

You know, our bodies are all unique.  This is an amazing thing – but I bet it’s frustrating to medical science!

You see, I have this odd biology where my body reacts to some of the silliest things.  (One of the reasons I’m so into organic and natural as possible!)  I had some bad mosquito bites so Louis suggested I take some Benadryl.  Normal stuff for everyone to take, right?  Not me.  I break out in hives – my entire body covered in red icky blotches that itched worse than chicken pox at 19!  So I’m allergic to normal Benadryl.  I’m allergic to latex.  I’m allergic to aspartame, phenylalanine, and acesulfame-potassium.  My body is just weird.

Last week I got pneumonia and was prescribed an antibiotic.  I followed all directions, stayed away from foods that might cause any reaction, but does my body just accept this medicine and dry up the pneumonia?  No.  Not me.  I’m two days from finishing the antibiotic when I bust out in hives and nausea that puts me to bed.

So I go in to the doctor and they are like “well, you are allergic to this antibiotic.  Usually we prescribe an antihistamine like Benadryl to combat the hives, but that won’t do you any good.”

I walk out with orders to rest, eat fresh pineapple, drink water and Gatorade or coconut water, and come back if the reaction gets worse.  I’m told, “it could take 5 to 7 days for the antibiotic to leave your system.”

Oh well.  At least I rarely get sick.  And now I know another chemical my body rejects.  Its interesting learning how different each person’s biology is: Louis and the girls don’t have any issues with fake sugars or with Benadryl.

Isn’t it amazing how unique each of our bodies are?  All of us have something that makes us different from everyone else.  We are each uniquely beautiful.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

Eggs of Giants

June 13, 2017

Eggs of Giants

One cool thing about keeping a flock of chickens (aside from the 5am alarms) is that they pop eggs out!

Before we had chickens, I thought all eggs were white and exactly the same size and shape.  With the first time our Buff Orpington hen announced to the world that she plopped a smooth, clean, egg in the nest box, my preconceived notions about eggs were shattered.

It was BROWN!

It was TINY!

This giant, beautiful 6 pound hen had laid an egg that may have weighed 3 grams (okay, maybe a little bigger than that).  It didn’t have a yolk!  Maybe our chickens were broken.  Of course, they weren’t broken.  Most heavy breeds lay brown eggs.  Buff Orpingtons are heavy breeds.  Most first eggs are small and even the most proficient layers occasionally have an egg without a yolk.  They never did lay what I previously thought of as “normal” eggs, instead they were huge eggs (extra-large) with the occasional super-giant egg containing two yolks.

Currently, we have a rainbow of large chickens in our flock.  Buff Orpingtons, Rhode Island Reds, and Plymouth Barred Rocks lay various shades of brown eggs (actually, pale apricot to medium walnut brown) and some have speckles!  Our Easter Eggers lay green, pale pink, and occasionally spotted eggs.  We also ended up with some White Leghorns, who are smaller than the others, but lay extra-large white eggs.  Our Golden Phoenix (who is a mottled English walnut color with a ring of golden feathers around her neck and scattered about her dark head) lays a torpedo-shaped almost pink egg 6 of the 7 days in a week.  Just like each of us are unique, each hen lays an egg with her own distinct size, shape, and color!

Young pullets (a female chicken is a pullet until she starts steadily laying eggs) will sometimes start out producing small eggs for the first week or so.  In the picture, we had a new layer’s tiny, a “regular” sized, and a double-yolker from our White Leghorn.

Another fun thing about having chickens is observing the variety of egg colors and shades when packing our eggs in their cartons.  We have at least one white and one green in each dozen but most of our hens lay an assortment of pink-brown shades called “brown” eggs.  They say you can tell what color a chicken will lay by the bottoms of their feet! (In our experience, not exactly, but pretty close)  In our last batch of biddies, we had three with blackish green “soles” of their feet. The girls are hoping to find a dark olive egg or maybe even a purple egg!

Yes, the girls name our chickens.  These names (usually for attributes or specific colors) usually find themselves playing hens or pullets in the Adventures of Long Tail.  Sometimes their creative names end up inspiring an actual story character (like Jasmine Rose in The Devonians).

The girls’ favorite part of chickens is the raising challenge.  They enjoy plotting color mixes as they separate them for breeding, watching the incubator for 21 days and squealing “babies are coming soon,” tending new hatchlings, encouraging them to explore, helping them grow, and seeing their breeding experiment results as they become pullets and cockerels.  Then they usually say goodbye to newly laying pullets about 18 – 26 weeks or promising-looking cockerels about 10 – 14 weeks as they prefer to sell them when they are “past the danger stage.” (aka too big for most hawks and no longer needing brooder care)

I love their learning adventure (as Rebeccah says, breeding in chickens is more colorful than Mendel’s peas) and we all enjoy the rainbow of eggs in various sizes the happy hens provide.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

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