Today is finally March. I had thought by now surely my cabin fever would’ve subsided, but alas, it rages on! This has been the longest winter I can remember and trying to keep three kids under six occupied while plunking out a book has been no easy task.

But yesterday, I finally followed my own advise for how to “treat” cabin fever: i.e. getting out into the elements that make you feel trapped. My son and I worked for a long time on the glacier he’s been building all winter alongside our house (for what it’s worth, I’ve often thought of inviting Al Gore to show An Inconvenient Truth on the side of said not-so-melty glacier!). It was wonderful. After we finished working on it (my job was to build a wall for the “dungeon”), we both sat, rested, and chatting seven-or-so feet above ground on its top, all the while watching the sun set. It was one of my favorite moments this winter.

But anyway, this advice I have? It came from an article I wrote for MOMSense earlier this winter. Here’s a bit of what I wrote in “Cabin Fever: The ‘ins and outs’ of this seasonal condition,” which first appeared in the January/February 2008 issue of MOMSense magazine:

Last winter, when my preschoolers discovered fighting, I thought I’d lose my mind. I remember sitting in front of our bay window, rubbing my very pregnant belly, looking out into the whirling snow as they fought over something in the next room. I figured their newfound fighting was just another fierce symptom of what had plagued our house for weeks. We were experiencing one of modern motherhood’s greatest winter-weather maladies: “cabin fever.” I started longing for springtime.

If you’re reading this article on your sunny portico in San Diego or somewhere else with perfect weather, you’re probably thinking, Cabin what? But you know what I mean if you’ve ever struggled with being cooped up and feeling trapped as driving snow, pouring rain or blowing wind keeps you from enjoying the world beyond your home. And you also know the craziness cabin fever can inflict on a family with preschoolers!

Winter brings with it some wonderful family fun with snow-filled hills and frozen ponds. But during long, gray winters, the times of truly enjoying the season are few and far between. It’s in this “far between” time that cabin fever strikes a household. And as you try to remedy the symptoms with endless fun indoor activities, you can experience agitation, frustration, boredom and gloom.

But anyone whose family has been stricken with cabin fever knows while we can find temporary fixes, we look forward to springtime. We know that bursting through doors (coat-free!) into the warmer spring weather, running wild with our kids under a wide sky and bright sun, and breathing in fresh air will help cure us.

If only these solutions worked so well for the other kind of cabin fever. Because, of course, cabin fever doesn’t only hit when we’re cooped up in a house with preschoolers. Cabin fever can occur when we’re cooped up in life with preschoolers! As much as we adore our children, the demands of mothering them can leave us feeling a tad closed in ourselves.

I’ve struggled with this kind of cabin fever since I left full-time work to stay home with my eldest son. I’ve never regretted this decision. But I’ve frequently felt the sensation of life moving on without me as I sit “stuck” in the house waiting for one child to wake up while trying to get another one down. I’m often anxious to burst out into wide skies and sunlight (ah, freedom!). And when I feel like I’ve left the “real me” back at the office (because this near-crazed, frustrated and exhausted woman can’t possibly be me!), I long for springtime.

Unfortunately, wishing for spring means wishing away a season I don’t really want to go away. As challenging as this time of my life is, I love these years with my kids. They’re as full of wonder and fun as they are tantrums and time-outs. While this may be the season of feeling cooped up, it’s also a season of freely offered hugs, snuggles, silliness and play. And unlike actual seasons, these times with our preschoolers don’t come back. We only get one shot.

To avoid cabin fever, experts advise getting out into the very elements that keep you housebound—and enjoying them. I love this wisdom. Turns out, the cure for cabin fever is contentment—enjoying what we’ve been given when it’s given. That’s God’s advice, too—learning to be content with whatever my circumstances are because he gives me the strength.

I make no bones that these suggestions are easier to type than to follow (especially since springtime didn’t cure my kids of their fighting!). However, this winter—and in each “winter” of motherhood—I’m giving this a whirl: keeping my eyes off spring and trusting that the cure for cabin fever is in living and loving the season I’m in. I hope you’ll join me. Now bundle up and enjoy!

–Anne Olsen 

This little nugget from my friend, Anne, is one of the best things I’ve ever heard! This truth explains what just happened in my church and much of what has happened through human history.

 Am I wrong?

I had prayed that these men would “hold open the doors” for women, as Carolyn Custis James says, but instead they slammed those babies shut. (”Don’t let the front door hit you in the backside,” as my dad would say.)

I’ve considered this church my family, my home for nearly all my life, but now it’s the place that has barred the door, leaving me—and all women—out and wandering. I’ve joined the ranks of the ”homeless” Christian women in America, as my friend Jonalyn Grace Fincher has called us. And it sucks.

My comfort—as I blog angrily along here—is that Jesus is out here among us wanderers. He understands this “homeless” feeling; he gets what it is to be shut out, unwelcome, and to have his gifts questioned and belittled. And I know that his hand is not among the 17 (or is it 34?) hands leaning against the doors of my church’s council room, trying to keep the girls out. Brothers, Jesus doesn’t share your fears about women. Or your ignorance of Scripture. 

So again I’ll seek the One who threw open the most important doors—those leading to heaven—when he died on the cross for us. I’ll look to him for guidance, to ease my wounds, to help me forgive (and to forgive me because I’ve been stewing about seeking revenge for two hours now!). God help me.

But thanks to the 13 brave men who voted in favor of this! You are men of God and heroes in my book. To the 17, well, I just hope you’re at least brave enough to let us know who you are. You voted against me. Be sure I’ll be voting against you. No hard feelings, my brothers. I’m sure I’ll be able to find biblical backup.

See about my vengeance….? Seriously. Pray for me.

And the coolest thing? His definition of an abolitionist: Someone who uses his or her God-given abilities, gifts, talents, passions, interests to help someone else gain freedom. I LOVE that! And I believe it’s God’s truth and the way he wants us to look at our purpose in life.

Just because right now I may not be able to be on the front-lines of physically rescuing children in Bangkok or New Delhi or Chicago or San Fransisco, I can offer what I’ve got toward this end. I can write, I can speak, I can edit, I can think creatively, I can encourage, I can offer sanctuary, I can write a check, I can pray, and on and on. I can be who God made me to be and DO what God made to do to become an abolitionist.

When we’re encouraged to live as the women God made us, we can get things going. This is why we need to let others know who we are, what we love, what we’re good at, what fires us up. Because you never know when someone else will say, “Hey, you can do that? We need your help here…in this way…”

It’s really exciting. I encourage you all to check out the Not For Sale Campaign and start thinking about how God might have made you to become an abolitionist—and whatever else he wants you to be.

Then of course I had kids and discovered I could win trophies for nursing. There isn’t much in motherhood that comes naturally to me, but nursing? Wow. I’m good. Just ask my babies. 

And like some sort of Woodstock hippie, I will nurse anywhere, anytime. God help the sorry sap who thinks I shouldn’t. Which is why I was glad to get a nice “Congratulations on Your New Baby” note from Illinois’ own Gov. Blagojevich complete with a little card telling about Illinois’ new law (thanks to him, of course) that gives women the right to nurse in public anytime, anywhere.

 So a couple things about this (and here I’ll use my fun bug bullets!):

• 1. Many thanks to the Gov. for passing this law. I can’t believe we’d need a law for this, but of all the silly laws we pass in this land, this one makes some sense.  People can be really rude about a mother feeding her baby. And it’s usually some fat idiot stuffing her face while making comments or shooting dirty looks.
• 2. Does anyone know what the penalty is for breaking this law? Can I call the cops on someone who tries to stop me? How about if someone gives me a dirty look? Do I get to sue? Because how great would that be!?! “Honey, our family money comes from that man who dared to question my right to nurse you.”
• 3. Does anyone else out there think that this is secretly just the first step toward needing to apply for a nursing license to breastfeed in public…? Have I gone off the deep end or can you kind of see this? Little boobie ID cards seems like a big government dream, does it not?
• 4. Does it seem weird that sometimes we need more laws to make us more “free”? 

But seriously, I’m grateful that nursing mothers and babies have a measure of protection here. Yet another important right we’re blessed to enjoy in this wonderful country. Viva la public nursing!

Hmm. He’ll make mammograms mandatory, and presumably all sorts of other gyny things. I thought he thinks women have the right to choose what goes on with their bodies? I guess choosing to hack apart the baby in my womb’s okay, but choosing to forgo getting the boobs pressed not so okay.