Posted in musings

restorers of streets to dwell in

Did you know that there are over 20,000 children in the foster care system in the state of Arizona alone? There are 21,455, actually, according to the newest release from the state. Even if you assumed the state average of 1.97 children per family, you have over 10,000 families disrupted and troubled in significant enough ways to warrant the state removing the children from the home.

I can’t even imagine that many people, in my own state, destroying their own lives, the lives of their children, the relational fabric of the family that should be the source of love and security for their children. It’s staggering.


I’ve lost count of how many times, over the past 2.5 years, I’ve commented to friends or coworkers about how incredibly lucky we are to have both my parents and my husband’s parents in town and willing to help us out. I’d say we’re even luckier that both of our parents are still married – so not only do we have the unconditional support of our families as we begin raising our own children, we have the example of a committed and enduring marital love to model and emulate.

In our state, last year, there were 40,005 marriages and 24,214 divorces, so I think it’s fair to say that most new parents don’t have the kind of familial role models my husband and I have in our parents. When these new parents are single, young, unemployed, or living far from extended family (or for other reasons don’t have the support of an extended family), it becomes even harder for them to consistently give their children the home and family life that they need and want. I don’t think my husband and I would be able to give our boys the family-centered, consistent, loving care we want for them without the support of our parents, at least not during this season of our lives, and so it makes sense to me that people without that support network are going to find themselves stretched to the breaking point: no respite, no role models, no encouragement, no margin, and the constant gnawing fear of failure and sense of inadequacy.


Unfortunately, it’s not just the breakdown of the family that hurts struggling families: the crumbling of the greater community is more damaging than we might think. If we don’t know our neighbors, if we don’t have close friendships with people who live near us, if we don’t have trusting relationships with people of different ages and in different stages of life than us, if we don’t have any groups of people with whom we can interact for mutual support and encouragement, the stresses of life are going to hit us like tidal waves, and there will come a day when they overpower us. With a community support system, a family is much more likely to be able to handle marital difficulties without seeking divorce, to weather unemployment without ending up on the streets, or to make it through chronic stresses without turning to drugs or alcohol or sex – and all of those things will benefit the children of that family, and thus in turn benefit generations to come.

But how do we rebuild a community that’s broken? How do we reform the social bonds that have been torn asunder, and step into the breach for the hurting and lost parents and children in our society?

I’m not totally sure.

We can start by getting to know our neighbors, and offering them a helping hand when they need one. While I’m sure there are tangible needs even in high-income neighborhoods, we might make more of a difference living in a lower-income or mixed-income neighborhood, where families tend to have less margin and more stress, and less disposable income to keep them out of the home and away from their neighbors. We can model strong marriages and loving families by putting God first in our own homes, and then by opening up our homes to our friends, our neighbors, and those in need. If we are creative, courageous, and hospitable, we can do a lot, by God’s grace, to rebuild the fabric of community in our local areas.


One of my friends, who works for a local foster care licensing agency, recently made me aware of a program called Safe Families that endeavors to create the kinds of social and community networks that could prevent family breakdown in the first place. They partner families together for support in crisis in several different ways. In the most drastic case, a family who wanted to help could be a host family, to temporarily take in children at a crisis moment in a situation that hasn’t escalated to abuse or neglect (in which case the state would step in) – maybe a parent is going to drug rehab, or is facing temporary homelessness and doesn’t want their children to be on the streets; maybe a couple needs a week to work through their difficulties and disagreements to keep their marriage together; maybe a single parent is going to be incarcerated and needs someone to care for his or her children for a month or so. By stepping in to help families at these junctures, host families enable parents to get the help they need to straighten out their own lives without losing their children to the state and the foster care system.

Another way of helping families and rebuilding the community through Safe Families is to become a family friend: someone who can babysit, mentor young parents, make a grocery run, be a listening ear at the end of a hard day, share meals together, or advocate for families seeking resources for their children. I have a feeling that while you might start doing this as a way to help people in a generic charitable way, you will probably end up being lifelong friends with at least one of the people you are partnered with! And having the program partner you with the other family removes some of the awkwardness fellow introverts may have in getting to know our neighbors in a meaningful way… 🙂


The social problems in our nation feel overwhelmingly large, sometimes. The divorce rate, the abortion rate, the sheer number of children in the foster care system, the increasing poverty rate, the fear and apathy and isolation – the numbers and emotions pile upon us like an avalanche of despair. And to be honest with you, I don’t think there is anything we can do on a top-down, national level. Human hearts aren’t changed by a new law, and our current presidential candidates don’t give me much hope for policies that will encourage human dignity, strong families, and tight-knit communities. But there is much we can do on a local level. We can transform the neighborhoods we live in; we can rebuild the communities around us, one person, one family at a time. I have been, time and again, too full of either pride or timidity to take action; but maybe, if we are faithful and unafraid, if we pour ourselves out for God in our communities, in years to come, this will be our memorial:

“And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in.” – Is. 58:13

Posted in family life

gently night-weaning

For various reasons, the time has come to begin night-weaning Limerick. He still co-sleeps, in a sidecar crib, and has always nursed to sleep. It was the path of least resistance for so long… but now, 15 months later, it has become a sleep crutch that prevents him from resettling when he wakes briefly during the night and thus wakes me about every two hours all night long. And the older he gets, the more difficult it seems to be for him to drift off while nursing, because he wants to engage and interact with me the whole time!

However, while I was convinced of the need for night-weaning, I was also convinced that I didn’t want the process to be one of prolonged or solitary crying. If he was going to cry, I was going to be there with him; if he was inconsolable and clearly not settling on his own, I was going to slow the process down and go at the pace he was able to handle. So I brainstormed some ideas for a new routine, and explained everything to Limerick a few times before implementing them, so that he wouldn’t be taken off guard when we did something new at bedtime.

“First we’ll nurse with the light on,” I told him, “and we’ll snuggle and talk about the day and pray together. Then, after you’ve had some milk, I’ll lie you down with your head on the pillow in your crib, tuck your bunny in next to you, pull the blanket over you, give you your bottle of water, and turn off the light. I will lie here right next to you and sing you a lullaby, and you can go to sleep.”

Why these steps?

First, the time of nursing and talking gives us a chance to connect at the end of the day, without any other people or distractions around, which is particularly important on days that I’m gone at work for hours. I want him to know that his bedtime isn’t just a task for me to accomplish, but a special time of calm and quiet for us to share. Also, he is still young enough that I want him to keep nursing, even though I can’t physically deal with the nursing all night long!

Second, the little details of the bedtime routine help to provide continuity and consistency from one night to the next, without making things too long or complex. The pillow helps keep his head elevated when he’s congested and the bottle of water gives him something to suck if he wants or a drink if he’s thirsty still after nursing (since my supply is getting pretty low, and it’s dry here in Arizona!)

Turning the light off after nursing helps to separate nursing from sleeping, so he doesn’t roll back to me for “kikis” after I try to situate him in the crib. This was a mistake I had been making on previous attempts!

Finally, Limerick loves music, and he seems to be far calmer physically when he has something to do with his mind – like listen to the words and melodies of songs. So the lullabies (whatever I happen to remember or make up) help him to relax, which in turn helps him to fall asleep.

As we were going through the routine, I narrated each thing that we were doing, reminding him of what we’d said earlier, until I ended by singing some old lullabies. His breathing slowed. His body relaxed. His hand holding the half-empty bottle dropped to his side. And I slid off the bed and went downstairs.

This was just the first night of the new routine. We’ve now had four nights of the new pattern, and in addition to falling asleep without the incessant nursing that was driving me crazy, he seems to be sleeping for longer stretches as well! Considering he is also teething right now, I’m quite surprised at how well this is going. Night 3 was a bit rough for him, and we ended up nursing a little bit more after the lights were off to help him calm back down, but he did eventually go to sleep on his own without crying alone or feeling like he was abandoned or unheard (it’s amazing how much calmer he got just from me saying, “You are really upset right now, huh?”). I’ve even been able to put him back down after a night waking in this way, which I didn’t expect to be able to do for a few weeks still! So there is hope, fellow gentle parents with poor sleepers 🙂 We can take care of ourselves and our babies in ways that won’t leave either of us resentful, bitter, or hurt.

Posted in family life

turning trucks into boats

Limerick was having a rough time this morning, between teething and a late night on Friday, so I took some time to try to put him down for an early nap (which didn’t work, unfortunately). When we came back downstairs to see what Rondel had been doing unsupervised for the previous half hour, I found him in the back yard:

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He’d taken some parts from his big HotWheels construction set, set all of our Duplo people (including the bear and the puppy) up in it, and was pretending that it was a boat sailing on the water.

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He moved all of his trucks out of the way so the boat would have room to sail around, and told me how maybe the boat would tip in the water and the bear would have to help pull the little boy back onto the boat.

I’ve never heard him play anything related to boats before, and I’ve never seen him use the Duplo people with other types of toys before. He was so excited about it 🙂 I was excited too, because it showed me that he could imagine a toy to be something it was not, and use it that way in his pretend play. In other words, he’s not locked in to seeing a truck as a truck, all the time.

It’s so neat to watch him at this age, discovering his imagination and creativity, coming up with situations and stories and keeping himself occupied with his own head and hands for a good 45 minutes without any problem. He’s so different from the baby he once was, not because the core of his self has changed, but because he’s grown and matured so much, and it’s my privilege to watch and guide and love him as he grows.

Posted in family life, phfr

{pretty, happy, funny, real} – random pieces of life

The ladies at Like Mother, Like Daughter were encouraging this week’s {phfr} to be about desk space, since an organized and clean desk is such a great jump start for productivity and clear thinking. Unfortunately, my desk is in a very dimly lit room and I didn’t have opportunity during the daylight hours to try to take a picture of it! So in the spirit of the link-up I cleaned and organized the horrible mess that was my desk and then enjoyed getting some HOA work done on the newly-emptied surface. It really does make a difference, having it clean!

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We are in the height of citrus season here in the low desert, and my parents have quite a few trees, so on Monday afternoon we took some time to make orange marmalade, candied orange peels, and candied grapefruit peels. The jars in the picture above are of the orange syrup left over from boiling the peels – the flavor is quite strong and sweet and makes a good addition to different types of drinks. I think it would be good with just some sparkling water but my mom has an old-fashioned in mind 🙂 She’s not as much of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol as I am!

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Our garden has really become a play space. On Tuesday I watched my nephew and niece for a couple hours and they had a great time exploring the dirt and plants in the garden; I’m not sure who slipped this little construction crate under the cilantro, though! It looks like a little elfin summerhouse to me – I can just imagine the little people frolicking in the dappled green light under the leaves, and resting for the night in their hideaway.

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Because the weather has been so unseasonably warm, our little orange tree has begun budding already. Its branches are beginning to encroach rather significantly into the yard, but it had been trimmed ruthlessly and ignorantly before we bought the house and suffered a lot of sunburn as a result, so we’re giving it a few years to heal before we try to trim it again. So, some of the branches are at just the right height for Limerick to explore, and he’s been quite intrigued by the new flower buds. In fact, he’ll stand at the tree, oblivious to the world, picking all the flower buds off, saying “flower bud!” each time and then dropping them on the ground or into a cup. Some of the fruits (flowers?) of his labor he then put on the edge of the raised bed garden, for no reason known outside of his own small head…

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If I had gotten a “before” picture of my desk, that would have been my {real} picture for the week! I had pre-Christmas decorations, old mail, HOA papers, the remnants of a Christmas craft, some chocolate and essential oils, and some items destined for Goodwill, all piled up on a table no more than 30″ square. Even the “after” picture could be {real}, though, tucked away as the desk is by my husband’s school desk, his weights and bench, the vacuum, and a couple large bookshelves… all of our random things seem to have ended up in the same place, which is also the only way to get into the backyard, so there’s always a bit of chaos going on. But it is cleaner than it was, and that makes me happy 🙂

Go check out the rest of the link-up!

Posted in musings

breathe

Breathe in, breathe out.

Running down the hill towards the station, I see the light rail doors close 5ft in front of my face, and they don’t reopen even when I push the button outside. Time lost, time with my babies at home – my frustration rises.

Breathe in, breathe out.

A client at work sends our group an insulting, misogynistic email that takes my breath away with its rudeness. I don’t write the emails, but in my head I think of all the ways I wish I could respond in the sudden rush of anger.

Breathe in, breathe out.

The software I have to use to interface with the machines at work is unwieldy and glitchy; trying for the third time to accomplish a tedious task, I close my eyes and count to ten to keep myself from yelling at the computer.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Let the anger fade.

My temper flares up so quickly at these relatively trivial things. I only lost ten minutes waiting for the train; caustic words from a single encounter soon lose their sting. Am I going to let that anger linger, let it seep into my home with me and taint the time we have together?

Breathe in, breathe out.

I can commit the anger to God, if I can’t let it go on my own; I can release myself into His peace when my own inner peace is in tatters; I can prepare my heart to greet my family with joy when I come home.

Posted in family life

a family valentine’s date

It was warm enough this afternoon for us to take the boys to the splash pad a few miles from our house – and warm enough that half the town seemed to have the same idea! It was crowded, exuberant, and refreshing.

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Limerick examined the whole splash pad and all the people playing in it very thoroughly and methodically, while Rondel ran back and forth from the fountains to me with ever-changing expressions and exclamations. We were there for close to two hours, only leaving when it was time for dinner, and it was so nice to be able to spend that special time as a whole family, enjoying our Sunday afternoon together.

Another neat thing about this particular park is how diverse the people are! I would guess that today it was about 50% Hispanic, 30% White, 15% African American, and 15% Native American, give or take 5% on each one. Granted, I’m a horrible estimator, but you get the general idea. I love that my kids get to see and play with kids who don’t look like them, especially since our church (despite having a black lead pastor) is primarily white. If they can grow up with diversity being part of their everyday lives, maybe they’ll be able to escape the undercurrents of white supremacy in our nation that give support to men like Donald Trump. Maybe they’ll be able to be proud of their traditions and culture while also valuing and loving the traditions and cultures of others who are not like them. Will they get that all from playing at a park? Of course not – but principles are absorbed into the heart and will through the daily experiences that confirm them.

How did you all spend your Valentine’s Day?

Posted in musings

when mental illness touches a relationship

How do you find the balance between reaching out to help someone in need, someone tortured by their own mind, and distancing yourself from someone who could hurt you either emotionally or physically? How do you determine when to maintain or deepen the relationship and when to sever ties or let time and distance weaken the bonds of former friendship?

On the one hand, you want to say never – never give up, never stop trying, never abandon someone to their inner demons, with a hand to pull them back out of the abyss. You remember who that person is, in their essence, the person you love, the person you would die for, who you never want to lose, and you want that person to come back through the darkness and cobwebs into the fullness of life.

On the other hand, when you see people you love hurt by narcissistic partners, addicted parents, or paranoid friends, you want to tell them to free themselves from the relationship and its accompanying pain. When a coworker’s mother plays her siblings against her and sabotages her relationships with the rest of her family, you want to tell her to just cut those ties and build a new life for herself. When your friend’s sister-in-law overdoses for the last time, you feel almost guiltily glad in the freedom her husband now has in her absence.

And when you know that deep inside you those same demons may be lurking, how do you keep the people you love safe from the hurt you might cause them? When you know that depression might steal from your husband the wife who can face down life’s struggles with him, or from your children the joyful, energetic, patient mother they deserve, is it right to marry and bear children at all? When you know that the voices in your head are luring you to the edge but you can’t make them shut up, when you’re afraid that at any moment you might snap into a self-absorbed burst of energy and plans or spiral into a suicidal darkness of tears and anger and emptiness, how do you protect the people who love you? The ones who keep holding on to that relationship even when it hurts them? They deserve so much more than you can give them.

I’m not going to give up on the people I love, when they need me most and are most difficult to love, and I hope they never give up on me. It is in relationship, in love that endures, that we can find healing and hope, if we seek it – in risking, in failing, in being forgiven and trying again.

Posted in family life, phfr

{pretty, happy, funny, real} – a warm spell

After an exceptionally cold January, we seem to be having a record-breakingly warm February – which means the weather has been absolutely perfect for enjoying our cool and shady little backyard and patio again! The main disadvantage of the backyard is that there isn’t enough space for the boys to actually run; the two main advantages are that it is completely child-safe so my baby can play without feeling the need to constantly test the limits, and that I can slip into the house to do dishes or dinner prep if necessary (the kitchen window opens right onto the patio).

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Look at those eyes. Oh my goodness. He’s so beautiful… and at the same time so mischievous! He takes delight in crossing boundaries in a way my firstborn never did – but he is also far more bold and adventurous. He’s at least six months younger than Rondel was when he finally became comfortable on a slide, for example, and he’ll go up and down time and time again, even on the tall slides at the playground.

The white stuff all over him is cloud dough; the back patio is the perfect place for messy play like that, and I let the boys migrate to the yard to play more before bringing them in for a bath.

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One of Rondel’s most-loved Christmas presents (which we actually opened nearer to Epiphany) was this set of construction trucks from my parents, supplemented with another construction set my in-laws had found for him over a year ago. These trucks live in a special spot in the garden, where I had a summer crop planted but then left empty for the sake of these trucks. Rondel spends so much time here digging with the trucks and telling me what they are building and doing, and I love watching him!

{funny}

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He asked me to take a picture of him eating a leaf and this is the best I got because he wouldn’t look at me! In Arizona, early spring is one of the most fruitful times of year because all the winter crops are flourishing as the few night freezes fade and are forgotten. Right now we have four types of lettuce, arugula, kale, cilantro, oregano, and mint in our main garden, and English peas growing around the trellised garden by the walls (Yes! They can grow out here in the low desert! They just need the right microenvironment, which our tiny yard happens to provide.) Rondel, in his typical information-accumulating way, can identify all the different plants that we have, and enjoys snacking on them while playing outside. The arugula is apparently a bit too “spicy” for his taste, though 🙂

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Limerick wants to do everything his big brother does, but Rondel isn’t always happy about having a small interfering shadow. I’m discovering that if I try to persuade Rondel to accept Limerick’s presence, he usually refuses outright, but if I redirect Limerick or let them drift together slowly, Rondel will make space for his brother to join him, and include him in his games. This was a rare moment where they were playing happily next to each other without Limerick destroying Rondel’s creations in his attempt to be like and play with the brother he adores.

Don’t forget to join the link-up today at Like Mother, Like Daughter!

 

Posted in musings

meditations on the season of lent

“Beloved, I beseech you as aliens and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh that wage war against your soul.” – I Peter 2:11

Today begins a season of abstinence in the Church – a time set apart to deny the flesh and aim for holiness. While we should of course be seeking to live our best for God every day, the changing of the seasons brings us a reason to say “today” and implement a change or a discipline that will draw us nearer to Christ, similar to how the arbitrary changing of the secular calendar year naturally leads us to make resolutions and changes in our lives. But while our New Year’s resolutions often focus on things like diet and exercise that will make us healthier, happier, and more successful, our Lenten intentions should focus on changes that will make an eternal difference for our souls: changes that lead us to God, that point our hearts and our minds upward.

Lent is a time for setting aside the things that we turn to instead of to God for solace, distraction, or pleasure. It is not a time for denying the goodness and value of those things, but rather a time for remembering the greater goodness and value of God Himself, and for pursuing that greater good. So, traditionally, we fast throughout Lent, and abstain from certain types of food, not to say that food is bad, but to say that we will sacrifice even this basic bodily comfort for God, that we will endure the discomfort of a few missed meals in order to break away from our bondage to the flesh and set our wills toward holiness. Where we would find ourselves snacking in a moment of boredom or anxiety, we are instead faced with an open space of time to turn toward God in prayer or meditation. Where we would typically satiate our hunger immediately and unthinkingly, we are instead given an opportunity to offer up our discomfort to God and remember His inordinate, extravagant, willingly-borne suffering for us.

Food is the universal fast of the Church because it is a universal need of human beings, and as such touches each of our hearts and bodies in various ways. But as individuals, it is also good to examine our lives and see what thing or practice might be serving a similar role, and which would thus be a good spiritual practice to abstain from. For me, this year, it will be sweets and iPod games, because I have noticed myself turning to both those things for pleasure, entertainment, comfort, and distraction instead of taking the needs and desires of my heart to the Lord. Instead of playing a game while I wait for the light rail, I can read the Bible on my iPod, pray, or simply meditate on Christ. Instead of turning to cookies in the evening to wind down and relax, I can turn to Jesus and give Him my worries and struggles from the day. So these are small things, and simple things, but things that will be difficult for me and that will force me to cling to the grace and presence of God – which is ultimately the whole point of Lent.

We serve a God who is holy, and He calls us to be holy as well. And yet our inherent tendency is to enjoy the feasts and festivals of the faith – the high celebrations of Christmas and Easter, the joyful commemoration of the Resurrection each Sunday, even the expectant hush of Advent – while ignoring the fasts. Is it any wonder that the celebrations themselves tend to lose their power and their wonder for us, when we have sought to fill every day with pleasure and never let our hearts meditate on the sorrow and suffering of our Lord and His call for us? Is it surprising to us that we can no longer feel the exquisite piercing joy of celebrating the Incarnation and the Resurrection when we have closed our ears to the darkness of Good Friday and the hard road of obedience that Jesus modeled for us? We need a time to look upon the evil in our world with open and unflinching eyes, to mourn the sin and suffering in our families, communities, and nations, to sit with the bereaved and the broken, to understand the burdens of injustice and oppression, without instantly drowning our uncomfortable feelings in platitudes or mind-numbing distractions. Lent is that time.

Come with the Church into the heart of the world’s pain. Come suffer with her as she seeks to understand and bear the hurt of all the lost and broken souls wandering through this vale of tears. Come walk with our Lord through His sorrowful Passion, which He endured for our sake. Come, enter into Lent.

Posted in family life

a listening story

I often struggle with stepping back and accepting other people’s emotions, to simply listen and seek to understand, because I tend to take their emotions personally and become defensive. As a result of this sense of personal involvement, strong or negative emotions in other people make me incredibly uncomfortable, and my default response is anger and anxiety.

While learning about child development and respectful parenting has helped me a lot with distancing my emotional state from my children’s emotions (without distancing myself from them), it’s still a huge challenge for me with adults, especially in my family. So when I have even a small success – when I can remember that their emotions are not a personal attack before letting loose with angry words or falling into a panicky state – it is pretty exciting!

Yesterday my husband seemed to be upset; he was silent, morose, and sharp. My unthinking response was to wonder what I had done wrong to make him upset, and then to be angry at him for being upset about things that he hadn’t established expectations for (like our schedule for the afternoon, which I thought might be the cause of his stress or irritation). So I was avoiding him, not talking to him, not making eye contact, etc. – all the things I do to keep myself from saying something in anger. But as we sat in the car together I suddenly thought, yelling at him or prodding him to talk about things isn’t going to help me find out what’s wrong or make him feel better. It’s just going to bring us both down and make us angrier. I remembered all those parenting blogs that said, over and over again, to simply observe and offer presence. So all I said was, “it seems like you’re really upset about something.” I tried to say it in a way that would let him know he didn’t have to provide any information – I wanted to be non-confrontational and non-interrogative (not sure how that worked haha).

Maybe it was just because he saw that I wasn’t going to be mad at him, but he then opened up and told me all the things that were worrying him (none of which were about me, showing me just how unreasonable my initial reaction was), with a depth of connection that wouldn’t have been possible if he’d been saying things just to get me to leave him alone or stop being angry.

So I am now an even bigger fan of respectful parenting! This posture of respectful listening – of noticing negative emotion in the people I love without letting it unravel me or hurt our relationship – is something I want to cultivate more and more, now that I see how it benefits my adult relationships as well as my relationship with my kids. And it helps me stay far more relaxed and positive myself, which is never a bad thing.