Well, I had might as well go ahead and do another post similar to last year's "year end" post. It was nice to take a look later and realize what all we as a family had been through the previous year. Hmmm....where to start...
We started the year off with my working still at the school. It was an adjustment this past year that I never expected in a million years to be so difficult. I guess after staying home for eight years, you just are never prepared for the way that going back to work rocks your world. It was hard. It still is, even after a year and three months of working. I still feel like I will never get used to that lifestyle again. The rushing, busy, chaotic world that a working mother tries to manage. Life was busy before I was working outside the home. It didn't compare to the "busy" I feel now. Sometimes I wonder.....
The winter came and went with several school closings. Snow days. Delays. Cabin fever. Onward to spring...and we were ready for it! We had decided to try to sell the house. After a couple of years here, we were realizing that an office space for PJ is just much more of a need than we had thought. His schedule permitted him to work two days each week from home. Our house only had a dining room to use as an office, that does not have a door to shut. After the holidays, we were considering putting the house up for sale sometime in the spring.
We spent a wonderful week with my parents in Florida for spring break. It was a week chock full of creating memories that I will cherish forever, I'm sure. My parents crack me up, almost as much as the little retirement community that they live in does! We came back from spring break and one week later, our drama began. The house fire!
I wouldn't have enough space to blog all of the different lessons we learned during our little inconvenient stay in an apartment during our house remodel. It was only for a month! Yet, I felt more stress during that time than I had in a very, very long time. Two kids. Not at your home. Not your own bed or furniture, for that matter. Not your own towels, even! One bathroom. Kids sharing a bedroom. Tiny kitchen. Stinky apartment building. And yet, as inconvenient as everything was...we were so blessed that we even had that apartment! We were safe. Warm. Had everything we needed. It truly was a lesson in gratefulness. I will still never be able to fully grasp how well our kids did during that time. They were so much more flexible than I was! We tried to look at the entire month as an adventure and I think the kids did a great job at that! They didn't even fight very much while sharing a bedroom, which they were NOT used to.
After moving back in, we tried to get back to our "normal" as much as possible, so much so that we decided we would NOT move and just make it work at our house. (See previous post "It's a mansion to someone.") We went through the summer with the intention of staying. Speaking of said summer...
Not sure why, but for some reason, we decided to purchase another rental over the summer. Shortly after the house fire. As if there had not been enough stress in our lives! But what an adventure. (Again!) We purchased a house near Ball State and gained possession only days before the new renters were to move in. We rushed in and changed out carpet, completed some minor repairs, cleaned and handed over the keys. It was a whirlwind! It all just happened so fast! And it was fun!
I blinked and it was time for school to start again. My summer did NOT last near long enough. I felt I didn't enjoy any down time with my children. I was so grateful for the handful of times that we enjoyed Haley's and Joe's pool last summer. It was truly some of the best family time I had experienced in a very long time. So grateful for the generous heart that they both have to share something so fun with our family.
Back to school and back to chaos. It still hasn't become "normal" to me to work. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss my days of just being MOM and WIFE. I felt it was where I was meant to be. Does that sound crazy? I did, though. I enjoyed taking care of my family and our home. I didn't minimize at all the responsibility and never once felt the NEED to go to work. The job fell into my lap. But I have been so grateful for it. Because of it, I was able to get to know more people in the community than I ever would have been able to. And the extra income? Let's just say I feel a huge sense of accomplishment for the year 2010 when it comes to finances. We were able to pay things off, invest. Be smarter than we have been able to in a very long time. And I know it was all because of that opportunity! I am so grateful!
So in a nutshell? I am excited about the things we did accomplish. Bummed a little about the things I didn't. I feel like we focused on our fiscal health more than our physical health last year. The next year will begin with some focus on the latter of the two! We HAVE to make it a priority this year. It's time. The kids have had a decent first semester. Could have been worse...could have been better!
Which brings us to today....I am going to need a "Part 2" for my goals for 2011!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Keeping up with the Hankins'
I have not blogged in over a month, and I am trying like heck to figure out why. Either it's a.) blogging is my therapy and since my life is so perfect right now, I need no therapy or b.) my life is so incredibly busy right now that I don't know if I am coming or going.
It's b.
I don't know where to start, but how about here....
I think that I was a "stay at home mom" during the wrong flippin' years! When your children are babies...they aren't really too busy. I mean, yes, you chase them around the house. But they don't have basketball practice. And volleyball practice. And Art Club. And field trips. And Cub Scouts. And crap to sell for school. And homework. And FRIENDS. I could go on. And on.
Right now. Tonight. On December 9th. I am wondering how in the heck my working mom friends do it. I mean, without losing their minds! I am overwhelmed beyond words. And I only have 2 kids! Not to mention the fact that my husband is amazing and I never feel alone in this whole process. Its truly a team effort, so again, I am wondering why this is so hard for me. Why can't I get it together?!?!
Here is my reality: I am tired. I don't have my Christmas shopping finished. My daughter is struggling in Math and I am trying to give her some extra attention and help with homework. We ate ham sandwiches for dinner because I didn't have it in me to cook tonight. My house is clean but only because my dear husband hired a cleaning lady to come 2x a month to help us keep up. That is downright embarrassing to me! Why can't I clean my own house? Why don't I have time?
Want to know what I miss????
I miss that little window of time when your kids are old enough to play with, talk to, have fun with. Easy to take to the grocery. Easy to hang out with while you are cleaning, visiting your grandparents, getting stuff done. Maybe even that little window of time when they are in Kindergarten or something. But not yet involved in 50 million things. Before Math started getting harder. When you didn't have to study for spelling tests. And AR books were read 3 or 4 times for the next day's quizzing.
After they have learned to read. But before chapter books.
You know....the time of Leapsters and Kidzbop. Disney movies. Dora. Car seats. Baths.
*sigh*
Why do I have this sneaking suspicion that one day I will be listing out all of the reasons I miss the ages that my kids are RIGHT NOW? I guess I just need to figure out how to handle the "newness" of where we are these days. Busy schedules. Working mom now. Things just change, huh?
Maybe I need to blog more. Maybe I have neglected the very therapy that has kept me sane....
Until next time (which really should be tomorrow, seeing as I am stressed to the max!)...get some rest, for crying out loud. 6:00 am will be here before you know it!
It's b.
I don't know where to start, but how about here....
I think that I was a "stay at home mom" during the wrong flippin' years! When your children are babies...they aren't really too busy. I mean, yes, you chase them around the house. But they don't have basketball practice. And volleyball practice. And Art Club. And field trips. And Cub Scouts. And crap to sell for school. And homework. And FRIENDS. I could go on. And on.
Right now. Tonight. On December 9th. I am wondering how in the heck my working mom friends do it. I mean, without losing their minds! I am overwhelmed beyond words. And I only have 2 kids! Not to mention the fact that my husband is amazing and I never feel alone in this whole process. Its truly a team effort, so again, I am wondering why this is so hard for me. Why can't I get it together?!?!
Here is my reality: I am tired. I don't have my Christmas shopping finished. My daughter is struggling in Math and I am trying to give her some extra attention and help with homework. We ate ham sandwiches for dinner because I didn't have it in me to cook tonight. My house is clean but only because my dear husband hired a cleaning lady to come 2x a month to help us keep up. That is downright embarrassing to me! Why can't I clean my own house? Why don't I have time?
Want to know what I miss????
I miss that little window of time when your kids are old enough to play with, talk to, have fun with. Easy to take to the grocery. Easy to hang out with while you are cleaning, visiting your grandparents, getting stuff done. Maybe even that little window of time when they are in Kindergarten or something. But not yet involved in 50 million things. Before Math started getting harder. When you didn't have to study for spelling tests. And AR books were read 3 or 4 times for the next day's quizzing.
After they have learned to read. But before chapter books.
You know....the time of Leapsters and Kidzbop. Disney movies. Dora. Car seats. Baths.
*sigh*
Why do I have this sneaking suspicion that one day I will be listing out all of the reasons I miss the ages that my kids are RIGHT NOW? I guess I just need to figure out how to handle the "newness" of where we are these days. Busy schedules. Working mom now. Things just change, huh?
Maybe I need to blog more. Maybe I have neglected the very therapy that has kept me sane....
Until next time (which really should be tomorrow, seeing as I am stressed to the max!)...get some rest, for crying out loud. 6:00 am will be here before you know it!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Speaking Of Ultrasounds....
My Drew had to have some tests run yesterday. I am not worried. (That won't do anything but make me crazy.) I truly think everything is fine, but his doctor wanted to just double check a few things. So away to Radiology we went. It was interesting...taking a child in to have tests ran. I thought about some of my friends who have children with health problems and immediately I felt humbled. For just a standard test, I was nervous. And again, I really shouldn't have been. His doctor gave me absolutely no reason whatsoever to be worried. I am not one to get consumed by worry, either. I have never thought it productive....going on and on about things you 1. have no control over and 2. may not even happen. When this little "test" came along, I tried like crazy to figure out why the room, the ultrasound, the whole thing really, affected me so greatly.
Then I realized that I really don't have the best track record when it comes to ultrasounds.
I have never gotten good news from an ultrasound.
It came over me like a rush of emotion. I remembered some of the strangest things about my ultrasounds for both of my pregnancies that ended so sadly. I remembered the doctor's facial expression when he realized something was wrong. It was so abrupt and so unexpected. I remembered the second pregnancy. Going into the office, just knowing for sure that this time was different. I remember the technician's face when she told me "it happened again."
Good Lord. Sometimes, I don't know how I am sane. When I look back at those times in my life and how I tried so hard to push all of the emotion aside, (only to let it resurface later) I don't see how I didn't just give up.
Isn't it funny how different experiences bring out some of the most vivid memories? And some of those memories, I really thought I had forgotten.
It almost makes me angry. I mean...here Drew is having this test ran. I am worried, but trying not to be. (Again, knowing that worry won't do anything.) And then, BAM! A rush of memories I had buried deep in my bank, not wanting to ever withdraw. That makes me kind of mad! I am just stubborn enough to be irritated at getting emotional when I don't want to be.
Sometimes, I guess I have to blog my way through learning my lesson. Throughout Drew's ultrasound and after, as I await the much needed phone call to tell me he is fine, I reflect on what I do know. I know that I am strong. I know that I survived a very difficult time in my life, emotionally. I know that I am more grateful every single day for a husband who "gets me." I know that my children....
Sigh....
I know that my children have been an instrument, used by God Himself, to teach me more lessons about love than I ever thought were possible. He certainly makes no mistakes! I will never have the words to explain what adoption did for ME. (Not the children we adopted.)
So, praise God for ultrasounds. And memories that we think we want to forget. Sometimes those are the most important ones to remember!
(Did I say I was angry earlier? See! I just have to blog my way through it!)
Then I realized that I really don't have the best track record when it comes to ultrasounds.
I have never gotten good news from an ultrasound.
It came over me like a rush of emotion. I remembered some of the strangest things about my ultrasounds for both of my pregnancies that ended so sadly. I remembered the doctor's facial expression when he realized something was wrong. It was so abrupt and so unexpected. I remembered the second pregnancy. Going into the office, just knowing for sure that this time was different. I remember the technician's face when she told me "it happened again."
Good Lord. Sometimes, I don't know how I am sane. When I look back at those times in my life and how I tried so hard to push all of the emotion aside, (only to let it resurface later) I don't see how I didn't just give up.
Isn't it funny how different experiences bring out some of the most vivid memories? And some of those memories, I really thought I had forgotten.
It almost makes me angry. I mean...here Drew is having this test ran. I am worried, but trying not to be. (Again, knowing that worry won't do anything.) And then, BAM! A rush of memories I had buried deep in my bank, not wanting to ever withdraw. That makes me kind of mad! I am just stubborn enough to be irritated at getting emotional when I don't want to be.
Sometimes, I guess I have to blog my way through learning my lesson. Throughout Drew's ultrasound and after, as I await the much needed phone call to tell me he is fine, I reflect on what I do know. I know that I am strong. I know that I survived a very difficult time in my life, emotionally. I know that I am more grateful every single day for a husband who "gets me." I know that my children....
Sigh....
I know that my children have been an instrument, used by God Himself, to teach me more lessons about love than I ever thought were possible. He certainly makes no mistakes! I will never have the words to explain what adoption did for ME. (Not the children we adopted.)
So, praise God for ultrasounds. And memories that we think we want to forget. Sometimes those are the most important ones to remember!
(Did I say I was angry earlier? See! I just have to blog my way through it!)
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Drew Is Scarred For Life......Oops.
**sigh**
I try so hard. Really, I do. I try to keep my kids sheltered from things that will cause them to be lying on a sofa someday, purging all of the dysfunctional aspects of life these days. But you know I fail sometimes. I am sure I will hear about this one someday.....
Shall I start with my intent? Why not? Always better to begin a parenting story with your good intentions, right?
I have been trying to help my kids, over the past year or so, learn more about God's amazing creation through many different ways. Hiking. Parks. Going new places. Learning about different cultures by trying new foods. I am determined to foster an environment where our creation is appreciated, and I have really kept outside of the mainstream world while doing it. I haven't focused on the game systems, big budget concerts, high ticket adventures as much this last summer. We are just more of a low key family, I think. It works for us. But when the Disney movies came out ("Earth", "Oceans" and "Babies") we were all excited for those. We are a Discovery channel family, so these were really cool to us. Documentaries about things we love.
The other day, we chose to watch "Babies." According to the little blurb describing the movie on On Demand, the documentary followed the first year of life for four babies. They were from Japan, Mongolia, U.S. and Africa. Now. I SHOULD have looked into the movie a little more closely, so I could have been prepared. I didn't. I didn't read anything about the PG rating for "cultural and maternal nudity throughout." Not "mild." Not "brief." "THROUGHOUT." Nope. It was about babies, for crying out loud! How did I know there would be too many boob shots to count! Now, as an adult, (and a straight woman) I didn't notice. I had even had a conversation with Indira one time about breastfeeding when we had some friends who had a newborn. She remembered and really was fine. I don't think it phased her. At all. She's nine. And a girl.
Drew is six and a boy.
It disturbed him. And I feel terrible about it. It was one of those situations when you don't know WHAT to do. Do I ignore it and hope he doesn't notice. Nope. Not going to work. ALL FOUR stories showed breastfeeding. No getting around that. And the African tribe that was followed? No shirts at all. Ever. What was I going to do? Tell him to leave the room every time we caught a flash of a nipple? I didn't want him to think anything was wrong, though. It was natural. There was nothing wrong with any of it, but I also didn't want him to be uncomfortable! I hate it when you don't know WHAT to do! Hindsight says.....I SHOULD HAVE READ MORE ABOUT THE DOCUMENTARY BEFORE VIEWING IT WITH MY SIX YEAR OLD BOY. Too late. And the part that stunk the most....the baby parts of the movie were amazing to him. He really enjoyed seeing how different cultures lived and watching those little babies! What did I do?
After a couple of boob shots, and seeing his face look a bit troubled....
I asked him to sit with me. I told him that I didn't realize this movie would show breast feeding. I then had a great opportunity to explain what that was and how cool it was for God to create the exact food a baby needs right there inside the mommy! It was great to see him amazed at a miracle, and breastfeeding is just that! Now, onto the topless African women....
What an interesting way to explain how cultures differ! I am pretty sure it still seemed strange to both of my kids to run around half naked. But still. An opportunity to talk about how JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING IS DIFFERENT OR STRANGE TO YOU....DOESN'T MEAN ITS WRONG. This was a great lesson for my kids. How cool it is that they respect different cultures!
The solution? After our paused break for the conversation, we went on to watching and Drew chose to turn his head when it showed any breastfeeding scenes. (We talked about how that was okay to feel more comfortable NOT looking.)
As terrible as it sounds, there were really only a handful of scenes. It wasn't some tasteless movie with nudity. It was no different than a National Geographic article. I just hadn't planned on handing Drew a National Geographic!
I hope this doesn't surface someday with a therapist. I truly tried to handle it the best way I knew how. I didn't want to overreact. I didn't want to ignore it, so we talked about it. Who knows if I did the right thing or not!
Until next time....read those ratings a little more carefully, would ya?
I try so hard. Really, I do. I try to keep my kids sheltered from things that will cause them to be lying on a sofa someday, purging all of the dysfunctional aspects of life these days. But you know I fail sometimes. I am sure I will hear about this one someday.....
Shall I start with my intent? Why not? Always better to begin a parenting story with your good intentions, right?
I have been trying to help my kids, over the past year or so, learn more about God's amazing creation through many different ways. Hiking. Parks. Going new places. Learning about different cultures by trying new foods. I am determined to foster an environment where our creation is appreciated, and I have really kept outside of the mainstream world while doing it. I haven't focused on the game systems, big budget concerts, high ticket adventures as much this last summer. We are just more of a low key family, I think. It works for us. But when the Disney movies came out ("Earth", "Oceans" and "Babies") we were all excited for those. We are a Discovery channel family, so these were really cool to us. Documentaries about things we love.
The other day, we chose to watch "Babies." According to the little blurb describing the movie on On Demand, the documentary followed the first year of life for four babies. They were from Japan, Mongolia, U.S. and Africa. Now. I SHOULD have looked into the movie a little more closely, so I could have been prepared. I didn't. I didn't read anything about the PG rating for "cultural and maternal nudity throughout." Not "mild." Not "brief." "THROUGHOUT." Nope. It was about babies, for crying out loud! How did I know there would be too many boob shots to count! Now, as an adult, (and a straight woman) I didn't notice. I had even had a conversation with Indira one time about breastfeeding when we had some friends who had a newborn. She remembered and really was fine. I don't think it phased her. At all. She's nine. And a girl.
Drew is six and a boy.
It disturbed him. And I feel terrible about it. It was one of those situations when you don't know WHAT to do. Do I ignore it and hope he doesn't notice. Nope. Not going to work. ALL FOUR stories showed breastfeeding. No getting around that. And the African tribe that was followed? No shirts at all. Ever. What was I going to do? Tell him to leave the room every time we caught a flash of a nipple? I didn't want him to think anything was wrong, though. It was natural. There was nothing wrong with any of it, but I also didn't want him to be uncomfortable! I hate it when you don't know WHAT to do! Hindsight says.....I SHOULD HAVE READ MORE ABOUT THE DOCUMENTARY BEFORE VIEWING IT WITH MY SIX YEAR OLD BOY. Too late. And the part that stunk the most....the baby parts of the movie were amazing to him. He really enjoyed seeing how different cultures lived and watching those little babies! What did I do?
After a couple of boob shots, and seeing his face look a bit troubled....
I asked him to sit with me. I told him that I didn't realize this movie would show breast feeding. I then had a great opportunity to explain what that was and how cool it was for God to create the exact food a baby needs right there inside the mommy! It was great to see him amazed at a miracle, and breastfeeding is just that! Now, onto the topless African women....
What an interesting way to explain how cultures differ! I am pretty sure it still seemed strange to both of my kids to run around half naked. But still. An opportunity to talk about how JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING IS DIFFERENT OR STRANGE TO YOU....DOESN'T MEAN ITS WRONG. This was a great lesson for my kids. How cool it is that they respect different cultures!
The solution? After our paused break for the conversation, we went on to watching and Drew chose to turn his head when it showed any breastfeeding scenes. (We talked about how that was okay to feel more comfortable NOT looking.)
As terrible as it sounds, there were really only a handful of scenes. It wasn't some tasteless movie with nudity. It was no different than a National Geographic article. I just hadn't planned on handing Drew a National Geographic!
I hope this doesn't surface someday with a therapist. I truly tried to handle it the best way I knew how. I didn't want to overreact. I didn't want to ignore it, so we talked about it. Who knows if I did the right thing or not!
Until next time....read those ratings a little more carefully, would ya?
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Why International Adoption?
"After all, aren't there hundreds, even thousands of children here in the United States just waiting for a loving family to take care of them?"
If I had a dollar for every time I have heard this, I would be a rich woman. In fact, some people are downright offended at the thought of us daring to take care of another country's child before adopting one of "our own." And don't get me started on the term "our own."
Wow.
I never dreamed that when deciding to blog on this topic my mind would be swirling so quickly that I honestly do NOT know where to start. But let's start here: This particular topic is really much bigger than just international adoption. Its so much more than that, when you get to the root of what people are actually saying when they make comments like the one I mentioned. I guess I'll just start with this little nugget to ponder...
Isn't a person, a person? What exactly determines WHO is worthy of love, compassion and care? Oh...its GEOGRAPHY! (See how silly that sounds?) And here is where I really get frustrated...there are a LOT of folks who are negative about international adoption who are Christians. Let me go here again....by definition a Christian is a "Christ follower." Newsflash: Jesus was not from the United States. I don't think He ever mentioned taking care of just "our own" when He implored us to care for orphans and widows. In fact, He even commanded us to love our enemies but I can't go there in this blog.
So yeah, I think we can rule out the thought that we are to only adopt from the United States when we look at things from a Christian perspective.
But what about the social and political twists and turns that seem to pop up?
Well, maybe we should check the facts. This IS the United States. We don't have children lying in orphanages unable to get antibiotics and suffering needlessly. We have a system where NO CHILD has to go hungry. We have foster care, welfare, food stamps, medicaid, free lunch and more. Like it or not, that is our country. I am not saying that no child DOES go hungry. But we all know that issues like that are much more complicated. Usually there are family problems that adoption will not solve. Truth is, we have waiting lists in this country to adopt a baby. There are more prospective parents than there are babies available. And before you bring the "there are plenty of older children available" logic, let me just give my two cents on that...
Not everyone is equipped to deal with some of the challenges that come with adopting an older child. Does that mean I am against older child adoption? NO WAY! I just believe in my heart that those who feel led to go that route, do.
So what to do if you are NOT in the position to handle the challenges of an older child? And, oh by the way....there are THOUSANDS of children in other countries in need of a home. I would imagine you might consider international adoption. This is only my thought process. I know for a fact that many other families that I know that have adopted internationally have very different means of coming to their decision. My point is this...
Families that adopt have many different reasons for going the route they go, whether domestic or international. For our family, in particular, it was the right decision. We had suffered the loss of TWO stillborn babies before deciding to adopt. Our little Indira was waiting for us in Kazakhstan. We needed her as much as she needed us...which brings me to this:
Most families I know that chose international adoption have felt the peace and direction of God throughout their decision making. It wasn't about skipping off to some other country to buy a baby. It was about feeling led to love a child that was out there somewhere. For us, Kazakhstan first, and then here in Indiana.
But to go back to the political thing....
I hate to do this. Really, I do.
But when are we going to realize that we as Americans are no more entitled to life than anyone else? Since when are we the chosen nation? Why should we take care of "our own" before taking care of ANYONE ELSE? I understand supporting your economy. Buy American! Sure....there has to be a level of support in order to thrive economically. But come on people! These are human lives! A child who happened to be planted in another country is no less worthy of love and care than one who happens to be planted in the US! As a HUMAN, we should celebrate any time a child finds a family, regardless of GEOGRAPHY!
I'm afraid that this level of superiority, elitism, if you will, separates us. Your brothers and sisters in Christ are not just American!
So now, I will step down from my soap box. It doesn't happen often...this frustrated, almost angry type of post! But every once in a while, I have to just get it off my chest. Purge my feelings and hope that while my intent is not to just change everyone's mind to match mine...I can at least give another perspective. You may disagree with me, still. But maybe you can at least TOLERATE another viewpoint after reading my thoughts!
Until next time....here's to celebrating not just diversity, but actually the things that are the same between us!
If I had a dollar for every time I have heard this, I would be a rich woman. In fact, some people are downright offended at the thought of us daring to take care of another country's child before adopting one of "our own." And don't get me started on the term "our own."
Wow.
I never dreamed that when deciding to blog on this topic my mind would be swirling so quickly that I honestly do NOT know where to start. But let's start here: This particular topic is really much bigger than just international adoption. Its so much more than that, when you get to the root of what people are actually saying when they make comments like the one I mentioned. I guess I'll just start with this little nugget to ponder...
Isn't a person, a person? What exactly determines WHO is worthy of love, compassion and care? Oh...its GEOGRAPHY! (See how silly that sounds?) And here is where I really get frustrated...there are a LOT of folks who are negative about international adoption who are Christians. Let me go here again....by definition a Christian is a "Christ follower." Newsflash: Jesus was not from the United States. I don't think He ever mentioned taking care of just "our own" when He implored us to care for orphans and widows. In fact, He even commanded us to love our enemies but I can't go there in this blog.
So yeah, I think we can rule out the thought that we are to only adopt from the United States when we look at things from a Christian perspective.
But what about the social and political twists and turns that seem to pop up?
Well, maybe we should check the facts. This IS the United States. We don't have children lying in orphanages unable to get antibiotics and suffering needlessly. We have a system where NO CHILD has to go hungry. We have foster care, welfare, food stamps, medicaid, free lunch and more. Like it or not, that is our country. I am not saying that no child DOES go hungry. But we all know that issues like that are much more complicated. Usually there are family problems that adoption will not solve. Truth is, we have waiting lists in this country to adopt a baby. There are more prospective parents than there are babies available. And before you bring the "there are plenty of older children available" logic, let me just give my two cents on that...
Not everyone is equipped to deal with some of the challenges that come with adopting an older child. Does that mean I am against older child adoption? NO WAY! I just believe in my heart that those who feel led to go that route, do.
So what to do if you are NOT in the position to handle the challenges of an older child? And, oh by the way....there are THOUSANDS of children in other countries in need of a home. I would imagine you might consider international adoption. This is only my thought process. I know for a fact that many other families that I know that have adopted internationally have very different means of coming to their decision. My point is this...
Families that adopt have many different reasons for going the route they go, whether domestic or international. For our family, in particular, it was the right decision. We had suffered the loss of TWO stillborn babies before deciding to adopt. Our little Indira was waiting for us in Kazakhstan. We needed her as much as she needed us...which brings me to this:
Most families I know that chose international adoption have felt the peace and direction of God throughout their decision making. It wasn't about skipping off to some other country to buy a baby. It was about feeling led to love a child that was out there somewhere. For us, Kazakhstan first, and then here in Indiana.
But to go back to the political thing....
I hate to do this. Really, I do.
But when are we going to realize that we as Americans are no more entitled to life than anyone else? Since when are we the chosen nation? Why should we take care of "our own" before taking care of ANYONE ELSE? I understand supporting your economy. Buy American! Sure....there has to be a level of support in order to thrive economically. But come on people! These are human lives! A child who happened to be planted in another country is no less worthy of love and care than one who happens to be planted in the US! As a HUMAN, we should celebrate any time a child finds a family, regardless of GEOGRAPHY!
I'm afraid that this level of superiority, elitism, if you will, separates us. Your brothers and sisters in Christ are not just American!
So now, I will step down from my soap box. It doesn't happen often...this frustrated, almost angry type of post! But every once in a while, I have to just get it off my chest. Purge my feelings and hope that while my intent is not to just change everyone's mind to match mine...I can at least give another perspective. You may disagree with me, still. But maybe you can at least TOLERATE another viewpoint after reading my thoughts!
Until next time....here's to celebrating not just diversity, but actually the things that are the same between us!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
The Fire Diaries: Part 3...It happened, we snapped!
I think its kind of comical that I pride myself on keeping a positive attitude in the midst of a whole lot of negative going on around me. The reason its funny is because ANYTIME you PRIDE yourself on anything, chances are you are going to get a lesson taught at some point. Hmm, what do I mean....well, here:
I have said it. Felt it. Lived it. Positive thinking during the times of negative "stuff." I make it my mantra to find the good in times of adversity. To see the cup as half-full. I am a die-hard, self-proclaimed, to the point of annoying sometimes, OPTIMIST. I hate focusing on the negative and I refuse to let ANYTHING get me down. Or so I thought.
Yesterday, I lost it. I mean, kind of went a little nutty even. Loco.
I have this pet peeve of people yelling at their kids in front of people. I just kind of think, its your business, not mine. I don't want to hear you scream at the top of your lungs at your kids, and am pretty sure you don't want to hear me, either. I would classify myself as a closet yeller. I try not raise my voice. It happens. BUT....not out in the front yard for the neighbors to hear. Now, my husband, on the other hand....
He is one of those "I am not trying to impress anyone, so why should I pretend I don't yell at my kids" kind of people. If something the kids are doing warrants something stronger than a "now kids....," chances are, he will raise his voice. And he is much more of a disciplinarian than I am. But yesterday. Oh, yesterday. The kids were pushing us BOTH to our limits. They were arguing over EVERYTHING. Just bickering. Finally, after arguing while trying to play basketball, I said, "That's it. Go clean out the van. There is plenty to do for both of you. If you can't get along while playing, let's just work then." Now. Did I really think cleaning out the van would magically make them start to get along? Who knows. I was desperate. We were out at our house TRYING to clean up the yard and simultaneously do a few loads of laundry with my washer and dryer. Surprise, surprise. The arguing begins again. This time, PJ is riding by on the tractor and sees it. He kind of went a little overboard. The next thing I know, I am in the backyard and I can hear him yelling at the kids. Loud! It had to be loud for the kids to hear him over the tractor. I turn to look next door and who is outside? Of course. Our neighbors are out front. With company. Do I have to even say anymore? You already know that I lost it. He lost it with the kids. Now I am losing it with him.
I just grabbed my keys. Shut the hatch on the van. Told the kids to buckle up. This whole time PJ is staring at me like I am crazy. I think I had some choice words. I won't repeat those. I know they were quiet, though! (Not so quiet that PJ couldn't hear!) I do remember saying something like, "I can't believe you would yell at the kids that loud and embarrass me like that! They are outside! They have company! I am the school secretary and they are on the school board! People are probably going to start talking about me!!!!"
Now. I am just cracking up about this today. But at the time, it made perfect sense to get that upset. First of all, PJ isn't abusive or anything. But yeah...he's a yeller. Not the most patient guy in the world. But neither am I! I am not about to start calling the kettle black!!! There really is no reason whatsoever for me to get that upset. Except the fact that...he knows it bugs me. We have had the conversation more than once about yelling at the kids outside. I guess I just felt like maybe he didn't care how I felt about it, so he did it anyway. Who knows. All I know is that I was mad. He was mad. And I drove off in my van and told him to call me when he was ready to be picked up.
Could it be...by chance....maybe....
We are stressed?!?! Maybe our fuses are little shorter than normal? We may just be a little more short-tempered right now. Due to stress. Lack of sleep.
Sooooo, the negative HAS gotten to me, hasn't it?
Today, I am just thinking about how every time we think we have something conquered, we seem to get a gentle reminder. I will continue to think positive thoughts and see the good in everything. Look for the silver lining. BUT. I do want to watch myself. I don't want my words to be empty. I want to mean what I say. Walk the walk. Practice what I preach!
Until next time....LOWER YOUR VOICE!!!!!!! (Ha, ha, ha!!!)
I have said it. Felt it. Lived it. Positive thinking during the times of negative "stuff." I make it my mantra to find the good in times of adversity. To see the cup as half-full. I am a die-hard, self-proclaimed, to the point of annoying sometimes, OPTIMIST. I hate focusing on the negative and I refuse to let ANYTHING get me down. Or so I thought.
Yesterday, I lost it. I mean, kind of went a little nutty even. Loco.
I have this pet peeve of people yelling at their kids in front of people. I just kind of think, its your business, not mine. I don't want to hear you scream at the top of your lungs at your kids, and am pretty sure you don't want to hear me, either. I would classify myself as a closet yeller. I try not raise my voice. It happens. BUT....not out in the front yard for the neighbors to hear. Now, my husband, on the other hand....
He is one of those "I am not trying to impress anyone, so why should I pretend I don't yell at my kids" kind of people. If something the kids are doing warrants something stronger than a "now kids....," chances are, he will raise his voice. And he is much more of a disciplinarian than I am. But yesterday. Oh, yesterday. The kids were pushing us BOTH to our limits. They were arguing over EVERYTHING. Just bickering. Finally, after arguing while trying to play basketball, I said, "That's it. Go clean out the van. There is plenty to do for both of you. If you can't get along while playing, let's just work then." Now. Did I really think cleaning out the van would magically make them start to get along? Who knows. I was desperate. We were out at our house TRYING to clean up the yard and simultaneously do a few loads of laundry with my washer and dryer. Surprise, surprise. The arguing begins again. This time, PJ is riding by on the tractor and sees it. He kind of went a little overboard. The next thing I know, I am in the backyard and I can hear him yelling at the kids. Loud! It had to be loud for the kids to hear him over the tractor. I turn to look next door and who is outside? Of course. Our neighbors are out front. With company. Do I have to even say anymore? You already know that I lost it. He lost it with the kids. Now I am losing it with him.
I just grabbed my keys. Shut the hatch on the van. Told the kids to buckle up. This whole time PJ is staring at me like I am crazy. I think I had some choice words. I won't repeat those. I know they were quiet, though! (Not so quiet that PJ couldn't hear!) I do remember saying something like, "I can't believe you would yell at the kids that loud and embarrass me like that! They are outside! They have company! I am the school secretary and they are on the school board! People are probably going to start talking about me!!!!"
Now. I am just cracking up about this today. But at the time, it made perfect sense to get that upset. First of all, PJ isn't abusive or anything. But yeah...he's a yeller. Not the most patient guy in the world. But neither am I! I am not about to start calling the kettle black!!! There really is no reason whatsoever for me to get that upset. Except the fact that...he knows it bugs me. We have had the conversation more than once about yelling at the kids outside. I guess I just felt like maybe he didn't care how I felt about it, so he did it anyway. Who knows. All I know is that I was mad. He was mad. And I drove off in my van and told him to call me when he was ready to be picked up.
Could it be...by chance....maybe....
We are stressed?!?! Maybe our fuses are little shorter than normal? We may just be a little more short-tempered right now. Due to stress. Lack of sleep.
Sooooo, the negative HAS gotten to me, hasn't it?
Today, I am just thinking about how every time we think we have something conquered, we seem to get a gentle reminder. I will continue to think positive thoughts and see the good in everything. Look for the silver lining. BUT. I do want to watch myself. I don't want my words to be empty. I want to mean what I say. Walk the walk. Practice what I preach!
Until next time....LOWER YOUR VOICE!!!!!!! (Ha, ha, ha!!!)
Friday, April 9, 2010
The Fire Diaries: Part 2...Inside out and upside down
Well. To say the very, very least, I feel out of sorts. To state that uprooting your family from their home and sticking them in a small apartment is inconvenient is the understatement of the year. Yet, I STILL feel so ungrateful for complaining about anything when it comes to our house fire. I feel as if complaining about how inconvenient everything has been seems as if I am ungrateful for what I DO have. Food in our bellies. Roof over our head. Warmth. Shelter. Everything we NEED. Its just that the line between WANT and NEED is so very, very fine. Sometimes I don't know where that line is. Its invisible or something. "I NEED new shoes. I NEED a new purse. I NEED to get my hair done." I could go on. And on.
But really. I just NEED to vent! This apartment is driving me nuts! Its small, yes. But oh my gosh. Its not the cleanest thing in the world. The kids' feet were dirty and I realized its the carpet. Wow. That's just gross. There are 4. Yes, 4. 4 washcloths. 6 towels. The sheets keep slipping off of the mattress. (Ewww.) And I am not sleeping worth a crap. The bed is not comfortable. I wake up so tired still from the night before that I don't know what I am doing. What do I mean? Let me tell you....
Last night, I went to take off my bra to get my jammies on. I could NOT find the hook. What in the world? Why can't I get my bra OFF? As I am wrestling with myself and twisting my arms in ways behind my back that I didn't know was possible, I cannot figure out why I can't unhook my bra. Then it came to me. My bra was on inside out. The hooks were on the inside and I could not figure out how to unhook them. Now, don't ask me HOW I got it on in the first place. I have no idea. But, I do know this: I am NOT myself right now. Not my schedule. My routine. Its ALL off! Who knows if anyone could see my bra tag through my white blouse. Maybe! Oh well...They probably got to see my generic Fruit of the Loom bra that I had to buy at Walmart the other day to give myself a few extras while I was rewashing ALL of my other underclothes!
Point is...life just kind of FEELS inside out. Or upside down. Something. Not our "norm." I wish I could be a little more laid back about it and not notice my little inconveniences. But the truth is, its hard to be uprooted from your home with your family regardless of how lucky you are that it wasn't worse! It does put some interesting things into perspective for me, though. I have thought a lot about other fire victims, (what I would consider "real fire" victims!) flood victims, even those affected by Katrina. I still praise God each day that things weren't worse.
But....I am allowing myself to acknowledge that this whole mess has been difficult. Its o.k. to be a little out of sorts. Its o.k. that I don't have it 100% together right now. I am realizing that the important thing for me to focus on is PROGRESS. I don't have to guilt myself into making this "not a big deal." But I also don't have to focus on all of the inconveniences, either.
Until next time...just forward!
But really. I just NEED to vent! This apartment is driving me nuts! Its small, yes. But oh my gosh. Its not the cleanest thing in the world. The kids' feet were dirty and I realized its the carpet. Wow. That's just gross. There are 4. Yes, 4. 4 washcloths. 6 towels. The sheets keep slipping off of the mattress. (Ewww.) And I am not sleeping worth a crap. The bed is not comfortable. I wake up so tired still from the night before that I don't know what I am doing. What do I mean? Let me tell you....
Last night, I went to take off my bra to get my jammies on. I could NOT find the hook. What in the world? Why can't I get my bra OFF? As I am wrestling with myself and twisting my arms in ways behind my back that I didn't know was possible, I cannot figure out why I can't unhook my bra. Then it came to me. My bra was on inside out. The hooks were on the inside and I could not figure out how to unhook them. Now, don't ask me HOW I got it on in the first place. I have no idea. But, I do know this: I am NOT myself right now. Not my schedule. My routine. Its ALL off! Who knows if anyone could see my bra tag through my white blouse. Maybe! Oh well...They probably got to see my generic Fruit of the Loom bra that I had to buy at Walmart the other day to give myself a few extras while I was rewashing ALL of my other underclothes!
Point is...life just kind of FEELS inside out. Or upside down. Something. Not our "norm." I wish I could be a little more laid back about it and not notice my little inconveniences. But the truth is, its hard to be uprooted from your home with your family regardless of how lucky you are that it wasn't worse! It does put some interesting things into perspective for me, though. I have thought a lot about other fire victims, (what I would consider "real fire" victims!) flood victims, even those affected by Katrina. I still praise God each day that things weren't worse.
But....I am allowing myself to acknowledge that this whole mess has been difficult. Its o.k. to be a little out of sorts. Its o.k. that I don't have it 100% together right now. I am realizing that the important thing for me to focus on is PROGRESS. I don't have to guilt myself into making this "not a big deal." But I also don't have to focus on all of the inconveniences, either.
Until next time...just forward!
Sunday, April 4, 2010
The Fire Diaries: Part 1
I can't believe it has taken me this long to actually sit down to blog about our recent drama. If you know me AT ALL, you know that I feel compelled to purge any significant, or insignificant information almost as soon as it happens! I ramble on and on about the most mundane topics, yet, I can't seem to find the words to even describe our most recent events. Its only now, that our little two-bedroom apartment we are calling home is empty, that I even feel like trying. Since I know my rarely read blog is more for my own therapy than the entertainment of others, I really feel like I need to get it all off of my chest, so to speak. So, I guess, here goes....
Last week, (and I don't think I even know the day....maybe Tuesday?) our house caught on fire. If you have already heard the story, this may get boring. But, like I said before, its really more for me! (And the sake of just documenting it for future reference!) On Sunday, my sister and I decided that my Grandma Shaw was past due for a visit. We had been trying to make time to see her separately and failed, so we thought if we planned it together we would actually follow through this time. We were going to see Grandma at the nursing home on Tuesday, after the kids and I got out of school. That day, I talked to my sister a couple of times on the phone and mentioned that if, by chance, she ended up running a little early, she could just meet me at the school. Since our school is right off of the exit, she wouldn't have to drive very far into town and I didn't mind bringing her back when we finished. But, this was kind of funny in itself. She NEVER runs early. We even chuckled a little when we said that, knowing the chances were slim to none that she would even be on time! But, to our surprise, she did run early! In fact, I even asked my principal if I could cut out about 15 minutes early to head on over to the nursing home since we had just found out that Grandma eats dinner at 5:00 in the dining room. I hated to spend the entire time just watching her eat! Of course, my understanding principal agreed to the 15 minutes and the plan was taking shape. Now we were leaving at 3:15 and heading to Grandma's.
When my sister arrived, we were spot on with our timing. Kids were with us and we were in the car a little past 3:15. And then the story took the turn that probably made the difference between my house still standing and being completely burnt to the ground. Lisa asked to stop and get the last Twilight book from me! She had read all of the others and was ready to end her series with "Breaking Dawn." Since we were doing so great on time and I hated to forget on the way back, I agreed to run into the house and get the book. The kids and my sister were not even coming into the house.
When I arrived home, Lisa noticed smoke coming off of our roof. I don't remember noticing that. All I remember is pushing the garage door opener and smoke coming out as the door raised. I can't describe my feelings other than saying exactly what kept going through my mind. "What the....What in the world? What the....." I walked over to the door that entered the house and put my hand on it to see if it was hot. When the door felt normal, I felt safe to open the door. So much smoke. I couldn't see a thing. There was no way in the world I was going to risk entering my house when I could barely see. I turned around and told my sister to call 911. At that point, I was worried that if it was something minor, I would waste the time of the firefighters and feel silly for calling. But how in the world would I know if I was too scared to go look???
I guess this was one of those times that I would just have to trust my instinct. And my instinct told me to leave it to the pros! By nature, I am a chicken, anyway. I wear my seat-belt. Don't really speed. Wear my life-jacket in a boat. Is that nerdy? I'm a safety girl. I don't want to do anything that could potentially cause me any type of pain whatsoever! Entering my burning house included.
When all 5 firetrucks arrived along with the ambulance, I think the reality started to sink in. My house was on fire. There is no way to ever, ever expect something like this. It comes out of nowhere. When I woke up that morning, I had my day planned and it looked NOTHING like how it turned out. Shortly after the firemen arrived, they came out and took axes back in. My sister looked as frightened as I did and said, "They just took axes into your house." I was so nervous. And then....
Then my neighbors came over. I barely know them. I have met them all of maybe 2 times in my 3 years of living in the house. They came to see if I wanted the kids to come over to their house to play instead of being right there in front of everything. I had not even thought about how scary it must have been for them. My mind was in task mode and had not allowed me to get emotional until the dreaded axes were taken in to the house! So, the kids left, which was a great idea. And then....
PJ came walking through the yard. He had made it home from Fishers in a very short time. He probably should not repeat how quickly he drove home. But he was here now and I knew things would be ok. And then....
My principal, who I had called at one point, showed up. I guess in the midst of all of it, I was worried about missing work the next day and felt terrible that I would have to call in. I kept thinking that maybe if I tell them early, they can find someone to work for me. So, he shows up to check on us. And then....
My mother in law, who PJ had called, came. For the past several years, she had directed Disaster Services and has seen hundreds of homes on fire. Never in a million years had she thought she would come to the fire scene of her own son's house burning. But, she was there. And for some reason, this completely comforted me.
I guess seeing those that care come to your rescue is some sort of medicine or something. Because, truly, I felt completely encouraged and strengthened by our visitors. My sister at my side. My neighbors with my kids. My mother in law right there with us. My boss, even! Later that night, I was surrounded in love by my other two siblings and my sister in law and father in law as well. Words just can't describe how much that means to me.
That night as I went to bed in our hotel, I realized something. I learned a lesson during my own drama that I couldn't have ever learned had this not all happened. From now on, I want to be that person. The "doer." The one who actually shows up in a time of crisis. I look back on my life and yes...I try to be a good person. But, I wouldn't consider myself to be the person who is right there in a time of need. I want to be better at that. I often have good intentions, but I rarely follow through.
Over the next couple of days, more "doers" appeared. My sister in law showed up and took the kids the next day. I had countless people offer to help with the kids on other days, someone showed up at our house with clothes for our kids and one family put together a basket of toys. And it continues...
To end "Part 1" of my series, let me just say this. Our damage was minimal in comparison to other house fires. I am overwhelmed by the love shown by people I never expected to surface in a time of crisis. And most importantly, this will be a defining moment in my life, I am sure. Stay tuned for more insight. I feel like the lessons learned are invaluable. Impossible to describe...but I won't stop trying!
Last week, (and I don't think I even know the day....maybe Tuesday?) our house caught on fire. If you have already heard the story, this may get boring. But, like I said before, its really more for me! (And the sake of just documenting it for future reference!) On Sunday, my sister and I decided that my Grandma Shaw was past due for a visit. We had been trying to make time to see her separately and failed, so we thought if we planned it together we would actually follow through this time. We were going to see Grandma at the nursing home on Tuesday, after the kids and I got out of school. That day, I talked to my sister a couple of times on the phone and mentioned that if, by chance, she ended up running a little early, she could just meet me at the school. Since our school is right off of the exit, she wouldn't have to drive very far into town and I didn't mind bringing her back when we finished. But, this was kind of funny in itself. She NEVER runs early. We even chuckled a little when we said that, knowing the chances were slim to none that she would even be on time! But, to our surprise, she did run early! In fact, I even asked my principal if I could cut out about 15 minutes early to head on over to the nursing home since we had just found out that Grandma eats dinner at 5:00 in the dining room. I hated to spend the entire time just watching her eat! Of course, my understanding principal agreed to the 15 minutes and the plan was taking shape. Now we were leaving at 3:15 and heading to Grandma's.
When my sister arrived, we were spot on with our timing. Kids were with us and we were in the car a little past 3:15. And then the story took the turn that probably made the difference between my house still standing and being completely burnt to the ground. Lisa asked to stop and get the last Twilight book from me! She had read all of the others and was ready to end her series with "Breaking Dawn." Since we were doing so great on time and I hated to forget on the way back, I agreed to run into the house and get the book. The kids and my sister were not even coming into the house.
When I arrived home, Lisa noticed smoke coming off of our roof. I don't remember noticing that. All I remember is pushing the garage door opener and smoke coming out as the door raised. I can't describe my feelings other than saying exactly what kept going through my mind. "What the....What in the world? What the....." I walked over to the door that entered the house and put my hand on it to see if it was hot. When the door felt normal, I felt safe to open the door. So much smoke. I couldn't see a thing. There was no way in the world I was going to risk entering my house when I could barely see. I turned around and told my sister to call 911. At that point, I was worried that if it was something minor, I would waste the time of the firefighters and feel silly for calling. But how in the world would I know if I was too scared to go look???
I guess this was one of those times that I would just have to trust my instinct. And my instinct told me to leave it to the pros! By nature, I am a chicken, anyway. I wear my seat-belt. Don't really speed. Wear my life-jacket in a boat. Is that nerdy? I'm a safety girl. I don't want to do anything that could potentially cause me any type of pain whatsoever! Entering my burning house included.
When all 5 firetrucks arrived along with the ambulance, I think the reality started to sink in. My house was on fire. There is no way to ever, ever expect something like this. It comes out of nowhere. When I woke up that morning, I had my day planned and it looked NOTHING like how it turned out. Shortly after the firemen arrived, they came out and took axes back in. My sister looked as frightened as I did and said, "They just took axes into your house." I was so nervous. And then....
Then my neighbors came over. I barely know them. I have met them all of maybe 2 times in my 3 years of living in the house. They came to see if I wanted the kids to come over to their house to play instead of being right there in front of everything. I had not even thought about how scary it must have been for them. My mind was in task mode and had not allowed me to get emotional until the dreaded axes were taken in to the house! So, the kids left, which was a great idea. And then....
PJ came walking through the yard. He had made it home from Fishers in a very short time. He probably should not repeat how quickly he drove home. But he was here now and I knew things would be ok. And then....
My principal, who I had called at one point, showed up. I guess in the midst of all of it, I was worried about missing work the next day and felt terrible that I would have to call in. I kept thinking that maybe if I tell them early, they can find someone to work for me. So, he shows up to check on us. And then....
My mother in law, who PJ had called, came. For the past several years, she had directed Disaster Services and has seen hundreds of homes on fire. Never in a million years had she thought she would come to the fire scene of her own son's house burning. But, she was there. And for some reason, this completely comforted me.
I guess seeing those that care come to your rescue is some sort of medicine or something. Because, truly, I felt completely encouraged and strengthened by our visitors. My sister at my side. My neighbors with my kids. My mother in law right there with us. My boss, even! Later that night, I was surrounded in love by my other two siblings and my sister in law and father in law as well. Words just can't describe how much that means to me.
That night as I went to bed in our hotel, I realized something. I learned a lesson during my own drama that I couldn't have ever learned had this not all happened. From now on, I want to be that person. The "doer." The one who actually shows up in a time of crisis. I look back on my life and yes...I try to be a good person. But, I wouldn't consider myself to be the person who is right there in a time of need. I want to be better at that. I often have good intentions, but I rarely follow through.
Over the next couple of days, more "doers" appeared. My sister in law showed up and took the kids the next day. I had countless people offer to help with the kids on other days, someone showed up at our house with clothes for our kids and one family put together a basket of toys. And it continues...
To end "Part 1" of my series, let me just say this. Our damage was minimal in comparison to other house fires. I am overwhelmed by the love shown by people I never expected to surface in a time of crisis. And most importantly, this will be a defining moment in my life, I am sure. Stay tuned for more insight. I feel like the lessons learned are invaluable. Impossible to describe...but I won't stop trying!
Friday, January 1, 2010
OMG, Mom...We forgot our flip flops!
"What are we gonna do? I'm NOT wearing boots down there with my bathing suit. And I didn't even bring my cover up thingy."
The poor eight, almost nine year old's embarrassment was almost comical, except you almost felt sorry for her. This just an excerpt from my day today at the Abe Martin Lodge in Brown County.
For some reason, I had the urge to get the heck out of Dodge and go away over Christmas break, even if only for one night. What are you going to do in Indiana, 15 degrees, very small budget, with a family of four? I guess you do something you know works. Go somewhere you have enjoyed before that doesn't break the bank and still scores major points with the kids. The lodge fit the bill. With an indoor water park that is PERFECT for our kids' age groups, this place is perfect.
Now, I have blogged in the past about my unrealistic expectations I put on myself when it comes to "mothering." I have truly been trying to chill out! Stop taking everything so seriously. Don't be so hard on myself. Actually ENJOY the vacations, parties, what have you, instead of being SO rigid.
So I tried it this time. Hell, I didn't even pack until today! Yeah, I was being all last minute, not plannin', just waiting till today to get stuff ready. I'm laid back like that, now, ya know?
Check in time was 1:00. I thought it was 3:00. We didn't leave our house until 12:00. Right there, I was starting to get a bit irritated.
THEN, after checking in and getting into our room, we begin to change into swimsuits only to realize NONE of us had any shoes to walk down to the pool area in. Let me just paint the picture for you of the the water park. Wet. People everywhere. You are NOT going to want to wear big clunky shoes down there. They will get soaked and where are you even going to put them?
Imagine my further horror as I look down to see my naked feet and realize I have "whore toes." You may not know what that means, so let me clarify. A very good friend shared this offensive, yet hilarious term with me a couple summers back. You have "whore toes" if you have let your toenail polish start coming off and have not either A. removed said polish for a natural look or B. repainted the toes so the polish is NOT half on and half off. No offense to the whores....its just a term. (And before anyone gives me any crap, no...my daughter is not aware of this term.)
No flip flops. Whore toes.
We are going to have to go down to the pool barefoot. EWWWWW!!!!! I am a self proclaimed germ-a-phobe. This kills me. But what is worse? Wearing New Balance hikers with a flow-y black cover up? (At least I brought that.) Or poor Indi with tall black boots on with a swimsuit?
And my whore toes...not even cute bare feet walking around on that hotel hallway.
Against my better judgment, we went sans shoes. Once we entered the pool area, I'm sure no one noticed. But then I lost my index finger's fake nail. I just looked a mess. I dropped the fingernail in a plant, not knowing what else to do with it since I didn't see a trash can around. And now, tonight, as I lie here still awake as my family snores away, I am just cracking up inside.
Oh, how we change. And for the better. I know this all sounds so minor, but seriously. I would have been just MORTIFIED had this happened a few years back. Sometimes I scare myself with how W.T. we have become. (W.T.= white trash, another offensive term I probably should not be using, but can't find another phrase that better describes what I am saying.) I see these perfect little families sometimes with their perfectly ironed clothes and immaculate little hairstyles. I know how much work it takes to have everyone looking like that, and I honestly do NOT miss those days. Yep, I had some whore toes tonight. Indira's hair was stringy because she really likes to wear it down. And my fake fingernail is in a flower pot. And today...was a really good day.
Everyone is sleeping, worn out from swimming. Tomorrow morning we will do it all again. Only we have to check out at 11:00, so we will have to put our clothes on in the lobby restroom after we are finished. After all, we want to keep swimming after check out! Ha, ha! That's kinda redneck-ish, too, isn't it! Who cares!
Good night, all!
The poor eight, almost nine year old's embarrassment was almost comical, except you almost felt sorry for her. This just an excerpt from my day today at the Abe Martin Lodge in Brown County.
For some reason, I had the urge to get the heck out of Dodge and go away over Christmas break, even if only for one night. What are you going to do in Indiana, 15 degrees, very small budget, with a family of four? I guess you do something you know works. Go somewhere you have enjoyed before that doesn't break the bank and still scores major points with the kids. The lodge fit the bill. With an indoor water park that is PERFECT for our kids' age groups, this place is perfect.
Now, I have blogged in the past about my unrealistic expectations I put on myself when it comes to "mothering." I have truly been trying to chill out! Stop taking everything so seriously. Don't be so hard on myself. Actually ENJOY the vacations, parties, what have you, instead of being SO rigid.
So I tried it this time. Hell, I didn't even pack until today! Yeah, I was being all last minute, not plannin', just waiting till today to get stuff ready. I'm laid back like that, now, ya know?
Check in time was 1:00. I thought it was 3:00. We didn't leave our house until 12:00. Right there, I was starting to get a bit irritated.
THEN, after checking in and getting into our room, we begin to change into swimsuits only to realize NONE of us had any shoes to walk down to the pool area in. Let me just paint the picture for you of the the water park. Wet. People everywhere. You are NOT going to want to wear big clunky shoes down there. They will get soaked and where are you even going to put them?
Imagine my further horror as I look down to see my naked feet and realize I have "whore toes." You may not know what that means, so let me clarify. A very good friend shared this offensive, yet hilarious term with me a couple summers back. You have "whore toes" if you have let your toenail polish start coming off and have not either A. removed said polish for a natural look or B. repainted the toes so the polish is NOT half on and half off. No offense to the whores....its just a term. (And before anyone gives me any crap, no...my daughter is not aware of this term.)
No flip flops. Whore toes.
We are going to have to go down to the pool barefoot. EWWWWW!!!!! I am a self proclaimed germ-a-phobe. This kills me. But what is worse? Wearing New Balance hikers with a flow-y black cover up? (At least I brought that.) Or poor Indi with tall black boots on with a swimsuit?
And my whore toes...not even cute bare feet walking around on that hotel hallway.
Against my better judgment, we went sans shoes. Once we entered the pool area, I'm sure no one noticed. But then I lost my index finger's fake nail. I just looked a mess. I dropped the fingernail in a plant, not knowing what else to do with it since I didn't see a trash can around. And now, tonight, as I lie here still awake as my family snores away, I am just cracking up inside.
Oh, how we change. And for the better. I know this all sounds so minor, but seriously. I would have been just MORTIFIED had this happened a few years back. Sometimes I scare myself with how W.T. we have become. (W.T.= white trash, another offensive term I probably should not be using, but can't find another phrase that better describes what I am saying.) I see these perfect little families sometimes with their perfectly ironed clothes and immaculate little hairstyles. I know how much work it takes to have everyone looking like that, and I honestly do NOT miss those days. Yep, I had some whore toes tonight. Indira's hair was stringy because she really likes to wear it down. And my fake fingernail is in a flower pot. And today...was a really good day.
Everyone is sleeping, worn out from swimming. Tomorrow morning we will do it all again. Only we have to check out at 11:00, so we will have to put our clothes on in the lobby restroom after we are finished. After all, we want to keep swimming after check out! Ha, ha! That's kinda redneck-ish, too, isn't it! Who cares!
Good night, all!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)