Why I hate to cry

I'm grouchy and tired this morning.  That should be a hint to not write a blog, but I feel like it would help sooth the soul a little to write out my feelings.  Growing up, I remember crying.  I don't know that I would say I cried often.  I know that I rarely cried in movies (although I bawled through the movie Pearl Harbor) and I did cry in a few books.  Most of the time it would just be out of frustration.  Somehow, when I was pregnant with Anna it opened up the floodgates so that now I can tear up at a commercial.  The short videos at church always get to me. So annoying!




I've compiled a list of reasons why I abhor crying.  They are in order from the least to the most important reason.




1) It hurts.  After I have cried, I end up with a headache, my eyes hurt from trying to not cry, the bridge of my nose aches for some reason, and I am generally exhausted.  Also, the physical side effects are not pleasant either.....puffy red eyes and a red splotchy face.  Real attractive.


2) It is awkward.  I have seen pictures of people with tears streaming down their face and it is beautiful.  It can be moving.  The reality is though that normally, crying isn't beautiful.  It may be moving because one can empathize or sympathize with the person.  For me the awkwardness comes in how to deal with someone crying.  I don't know whether you are supposed to hug them, get them tissues, ignore the fact they are crying, look away, etc.  And if I'm crying it goes awkward because people feel like they need to hug me and I certainly don't like that.  I prefer the ignore.  However, every once in a while it would be nice to have a hug, but I can't tell you how to tell the difference between when you are supposed to ignore and when to hug.
3) It makes me feel vulnerable. Anyone who knows me knows that I love control.  Although I find it to be a fault of mine, I thrive being independent and tough.  I hate showing weakness.  In my twisted head, I believe that if I cry I'm showing weakness but if say my husband would ever cry, I would think that was him being strong enough to do that.  I think I fear if I show weakness people will look down on me or not trust that I am able to do things.  Part of this comes from a person I went to high school with.  She was a sensitive person and if she cried people would feel bad for her.  Although I'm sure she didn't try to use that to manipulate people, it felt like that sometimes and my perception of her was that she was weak.  I am afraid of being put in that same category.  I try my best to not even cry in front of Brad or the kids.  I know they see me sometimes, but I try my best to turn away, blink real fast, go to another room, or shoo them away.  Our pastor taught us a neat trick of when you feel like you are going to cry, gag.  I tested it out and it works although it looks pretty ridiculous if you aren't careful!  I struggle because I don't want Anna and Matthew to think that there is anything wrong with crying, but at the same time I don't want them to be crybabies.  Crying I'm sure is therapeutic.  And I'm certainly not saying people shouldn't. 
4) It doesn't fix a damn thing.  I'm not a proponent of cussing normally, but sometimes it just states exactly what you are thinking.  In the last day I have shed some tears and it has brought back memories.  When I was little, we were eating dinner at a local restaurant.  Another girl about my age rolled in on a wheelchair.  I couldn't stop crying.  My heart broke that she would have to deal with that.  I don't believe in any way shape or form that she is broken or not as good or anything.....I just know she would face difficulties because of that.  My crying did nothing but probably make the situation weird.  In high school, one Sunday I just woke up crying and couldn't stop.  I couldn't place my finger on what made me cry.  I wasn't sad, frustrated, happy, anything.  The tears just flowed.  Yesterday tears clouded my eyes because we found out that one of Brad's high school football buddies died.  I don't know why it bugged me so much.  Matt, the friend, and his wife were Brad's friends.  I knew them and liked them because they were kind, both have beautiful smiles, sweet, etc.  I have memories of these two small guys playing linemen (I think) and do a fantastic job of it.  I'm sad that he died but I think the tears come more for his wife.  My heart breaks for her. I often worry about things that have a slim chance of ever happening.  One of them is that Brad would suddenly die and what the heck would I do.  That is her reality.  She just lost the love of her life.  She went from a coparent to a single parent overnight.  She lost what I suppose was her rock, the breadwinner, support, friend.  How do you not hate God.  I realize that hundreds of other women are in her same shoes.  I hate that my agony and tears over her situation does absolutely nothing to help her.    She will never know my sympathy.  The tears would not comfort. They are just streams of wasted water.
            

Our Italian New Year's

I'm all about stealing other people's fantastic ideas.  Some time ago I noticed a pin and can't even tell you exactly what it said but what I got out of it was the birth of our New Year's tradition.  Each year we will pick a country, learn a little bit about that country, do some activities representing the country, and eat food from that country.  On our way home from CO, we picked Italy.  There is nothing like waiting till the last minute!!  Monday I dashed to the library to pick up some books and I scoured the Internet for ideas.  Here are a few pictures to help tell what we ended up doing.

 This is most of the ingredients we used to create our Italian New Years. 

Here Anna and Matthew are coloring a picture of the Italian Flag. They also colored a picture of the Mona Lisa. 

Brad made homemade ravioli, I made a Bolognese sauce, salad, bread, Italian sodas, homemade baked mozzarella sticks, and Brad made Fruitta del Sol. Of course you need to enjoy such phenomenal food with great friends!  We did a red tablecloth, green plates, and white silverware to represent the Italian colors.

 

 

 On New Years the kids choose a few items to donate.  In Italy, they items out their windows so represent getting rid of the old to welcome the new.  We read a book about a famous Italian cat named Nini (true or not I don't know).  Anna was excited that the cat in the book was white and the cats on her dress were white as well :P  Next we glanced through a book that went through the culture of Italy.  Then we played bingo (in the picture).  Italians play a game similar to bingo.

 

 

 

We listened to a fictional story about Vivaldi.  In this story they were celebrating Carnival.  So, we used feathers and sequins to decorate masks and wands.

 

 

 

 

Brad went to watch a Husker's game at a friend's house so the kids and I spontaneously decided to make pizzas.  We made them on tortillas (which I have been wanting to try).  They were delicious.  I had a fantastic helper who seemed to enjoy tasting more than working!

 Finally, we learned about Michelangelo and the fact that he had to lie on his back to pain the Sistine Chapel.  The kids got a small experience of that!  Anna painted a Valentine's picture and Matthew painted a blue robot and some circles.

 

We had a blast with this new tradition!  I can't wait to discover what country we will pick next year!