Where ever you go, there you are...

2010-05-05T11:53:00.001-07:00

“A child’s life is like a piece of paper on which every person leaves a mark”. –Chinese Proverb

2010-02-25T05:47:00.000-08:00

Me: Nathan, what's wrong?
Nathan: (pouting) I'm mad about you!
Me: Why are you mad about me?
Nathan: You messed me up...you messed my feelings up!

2009-09-09T08:48:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in the drive-through at McDonald's with my window down contemplating what to order when I overheard the person in the car directly in front of me, "A large coffee with two creams and two sugars." I was considering his selection when I became conscious of the fact that I was making "a face". The face you might display when you just smelled something unpleasantly pungent.

What is wrong with me? I don't like coffee and never have. I hear people all the time talking about "meeting for coffee" or "hanging out in the coffee shop" or how wonderful Starbucks is! And I just feel like an immature girl who never quite grew up, never acquiring the taste for this drink that seems to be some rite of passage into adulthood.

Oddly enough, my sister feels the same way. I called her after exiting the drive-through to discuss this topic reminiscent of a Seinfeld episode. I explained to her my plan to move to the next stage of my life...that of a coffee drinker. There must be some kind of coffee out there that I find appealing. Maybe something hazelnutty or chocolaty... something smooth and creamy and frothy! I will WILL myself to enjoy it and maybe when I feel that jolt of caffeine I usually welcome every morning when I drink my diet soda, I will suddenly fall in love with that warm cup of Joe.

Then, after I become a coffee connoisseur, I will be able to join the rest of that club...that of "the coffee drinker.

Right now...

2009-08-31T16:34:00.000-07:00

Ryan was sick today so he stayed home from school. I worked from home most of the day. Grace went to school. Nathan played with his fire trucks, watched the Wiggles (his latest obsession), and asked me a trillion questions. All of my answers were quickly followed by another question..."why?"

Grace got home from school, picked up her Ipod and went outside to play with Ali and to ride her electric scooter. She came in later to gather some blankets, which she laid in the back of Mike's pick-up (You know...the one from last year that we have not yet gotten rid of. Yes...I am trying really hard to fit the part of hoosier/red neck girl. I have the broken down truck in the driveway. Now all I need is to have bare feet, a baby on my hip and a beer in my hand and it will be official!) Anyway, I called Grace in to do her homework, helped her with it, and scraped together some food..."dinner" in the loosest sense of the word!

Ryan's fever went down thanks to Target's generic brand of Motrin so he felt good enough to organize some of his Pokemon cards. He brought them to me and announced that he was going to sell them on Ebay for $400. Grace came in and got some candy. Nathan got into the closet and found an umbrella which I promptly took away from him because he has broken every one we've had. Then he found this green, frog raincoat. I can hear the sound of the plastic as he puts in on, takes it off, puts it on again upside down, takes it off, puts it on, and comes to me to ask me to "snap it up".

Ryan just came out of his room dressed in nice black pants, black leather dress shoes, a light blue oxford and a tie! He said he was going on a pretend date. He walked back in the room and sprayed a little Axe. Then he sauntered into the kitchen, leaned against the wall, put one foot up on the wall behind him and gave me a look like he was modeling for GQ. Ugh...I hate that he is growing up so fast. I only have about 8 more years left before he leaves home for college!

Where's Grace? Let me check...okay...she's running up the street with her helmet on with a walkie-talking in her hand while her friend, Ali, rides her motor scooter down the street. Why do I always see someone else on Grace's motor scooter? She is just so sweet...always sharing. But I fear she also gets taken advantage of.

Oh...here comes Nathan with his frog raincoat..."This isn't working, mommy!" Nevermind...he just walked in to ask Ryan if he wanted to wear his "froggie jacket". Ryan is now playing the Wii and for some reason is telling Nathan not to be "weird". And Nathan is calling him "Dorothy the Dinosaur". I still hear that plastic...uh oh...Nathan is now really frustrated. He can't zip up his raincoat. Let me help him....Okay...I did it. He was so pleased. I told him to go look in the mirror. He smiled, pointed his fingers, leaned back, lifted one leg and said, "To the big red car!", which he says about 15 times a day. Anyone who knows the Wiggles will know that phrase. Then he went to look in the mirror.

Here comes Grace. She wants to know if she can go down the street. She pleaded, "Anila really super, super wants me. She's a really nice friend from school. Can I go play down the street? It's just right down there, past the stop sign." Okay...just for a few minutes. Ryan's moved on to Wii tennis. Nathan is watching him. Oh no...I hear arguing. I think Ali just threatened to go home because Grace was playing with someone else and then Grace said, "Okay I won't play with them!" See what I mean? I will take care of this..."Grace, it's time to come in." Nathan just said "poop". Now Ryan and Nathan are talking about "toots" and "farts" Well, that's where "right now" ends...I need to move into "later".

:-)

2009-08-27T10:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Ryan brought me a baseball and a pen and asked for my autograph. He said, "Your autograph should be worth a million dollars because you are the best mom in the world!" And I will cherish all of these moments because when he is a teenager, I am fairly certain he won't feel the same!

2009-05-27T08:40:00.000-07:00

It seems every time we turn around there is some house repair, car expense, or some bill that arrives that we weren't expecting. Just when we feel we are getting ahead then BAM! Something happens.

And then there are the ordinary expenses of holidays, birthdays, Boy scouts, gymnastics, baseball, violin lessons, and the change of seasons requiring new clothing purchases.

What about those little inconveniences in life like spilled milk, crumbled up Cheese-its on the carpet, dog hair, Nathan throwing up in my lap right before Ryan pitches for the first time, permanent marker on clothes, fingernail polish on the couch, discovering gum in the washer after it was left in a pocket or the ants that made their way into the house and into the dog's dish.

Some might complain that their child climbs into their bed night after night no matter how many times you put them back in their own bed or the radio is too loud or the bikes and helmets and bases and balls are strewn all over the yard.

Some say things like, "Why does this always happen to us?" or "We will never get ahead in life!" These are the people who choose to look at life through that glass-half-empty lens and who refuse to see life on the other end of the spectrum. How unhappy and hopeless life must feel.

I admit I have my moments where the stress gets to be a little too much and I might have a fleeting thought of "I wish my life was different". But it doesn't take long for me to realize that if I didn't have a car repair that means I don't have a car. And if I didn't have to pay for things like lessons, sports, clothes...that would mean my children wouldn't have these experiences. How sad I would be if there was never spilled milk or throw up or gum or messes of any kind...that would mean I don't have children. Someday, my house will be quiet. I will not have a child climbing into my bed. No one will have the radio up too loud. Bikes, baseball and bases will be a thing of the past. And I will miss them!

"Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It is the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference." ~ Virginia Satir

2009-05-18T12:56:00.000-07:00

Obviously, Ryan is playing baseball again this year. He is in the third grade so this is the first year of "kid pitch". These pictures are a little out of order. I still cannot figure out how to post the pictures where I want them! Anyway, prior to his game, he wanted me to take some "action shots" of him in the front yard. The first picture is actually at the game...his first time on the mound! He pitched a no-hitter in the three innings he was allowed to pitch.

2009-05-18T12:39:00.000-07:00

These pictures are of Grace and a few of her friends. Grace has the most fun having pictures taken of her making a silly face or doing something off the wall If I was her age, I would definitely want to hang out with her!

2009-05-17T19:47:00.000-07:00

When I was putting Grace to bed the other night, I took the book she was holding and started to put it away. She said, "Mom, you know I like to snuggle up with a book!" I didn't realize she took this saying so literally. :)

2009-05-17T19:27:00.002-07:00

My children have chores but since Nathan is so young, his aren't well defined. This day he was "helping" me fold laundry. He was so proud...he found a hat!

Car Rides and Qs

2009-04-18T18:55:00.000-07:00

Here is a typical conversation with Ryan during a car ride:

Ryan: Mom, I have a question.
Me: What's your Q? (Ryan used to call all questions "Q"s so this is how I answer him now.)
Ryan: Is marble heavier than concrete?
Me: Yes
Ryan: Well, which is stronger?
Me: I believe marble would be stronger.
Ryan: What about steel? Is marble stronger than steel?
Me: I guess that would depend on the size and thickness of each.
Ryan: Well, what if they were both the size of a car?
Me: (How I am I supposed to know this stuff?) Uh...I'm not really sure.
Ryan: What about silk? My teacher said that silk is really strong...could it be stronger than steel.
Me: (Really??? Silk???) Hmmm...I guess if the silk was compounded together, layer upon layer, then I guess it would be possible but it would also depend on the thickness of the steel. (Geez...I have no idea)
Ryan: Mom, if Marius Pudzianowski had to lift marble and there was a clone of Marius Pudzianowski who had to lift steel, who would win?
Me: I guess that would depend on the weight of each?
Ryan: Well, like if it was the same size but one was heavier than the other, who would win?
Me: (My head is hurting) Not really sure...I know nothing about body builders, Ryan.
After a brief pause...
Ryan: Mom. How fast do you think a fighter jet goes?
Me: I have no clue.
Ryan: Which is bigger, a mammoth or a mastadon?
Me: Ummm...
Ryan: How far do you think it is to the center of the Earth?
Me: (eeeeeeek...my head is spinning)
Ryan: Mom...do you think Bill Gates is in debt?
Me: I don't know, Ryan...why don't you call him yourself and ask.
Ryan: What about NBA players? Do you think they have debt?
Me: (Ughhhh!)
Ryan: Can a rocket ship go 25,000 miles an hour?
Me: (Are we home yet????)
Ryan: How tall is the tallest building in the world?
Me: (I need a nap!!!)

FYI

2009-03-31T13:06:00.000-07:00

I recently shared a story about Grace...something that happened around Christmas time involving the assembly of a gingerbread house and the "fun" that followed. Although it was written recently, I assigned it a date in December. If you would like to read it, you will have to go back to my December posts. :)

Nathanease

2009-02-14T19:18:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't understand Nathan-ease, here is your Nathan to English dictionary brought to you by Grace and "Me".

Truck = F@!#
Gum = Mug
Grace = Race
Ryan = Ry Ry
Please = Peace
Christmas = Mis mis
Sucker = Gucka
Ice Cream = Ah-key
Chip = Pip
Movie = Vee vee
Pepsi = Poppie
Chocolate = Hawk hawk
Apple Juice = Appa Goock
Milk = Muck
Candy = Nanny
Sleeping =beeping
Grandma = grrrrr mama
Cereal = eeee oh
Thank you = geek ooo
Blanket =bankeck
Jacket = gackeck
Snow = No

There is one more thing we should point out. Everything belongs to Nathan. So, you must say "me" before every word in his language. Here is a test to determine if you have mastered Nathanease:

1) If I said, "Candy" then in Nathanease it would be ______________.
2) Truck = __________________.
3) Chocolate Chip = _____________________.

The correct answers are: 1) Me nanny, 2) Me f@#!, and 3) Me hawk hawk pip.

If you got the correct answers you are well on your way to understanding Nathanease.

Carrollton...Rest in Peace

2009-02-13T11:37:00.000-08:00

I don't know how old I was when I began to hear the rumors about the airport's plan to expand. I must have been in high school. There were just tidbits of information I would receive about meetings that were held between the airport and city officials. One of the plans was to purchase every house in our neighborhood, level it out and build a runway. I remember thinking that it would never happen. The neighborhood was well established...so many people lived there. There were two churches, schools and a neighborhood pool. I imagined the expense of it all. Not to mention the fact that the residents of my community would never agree to such a thing!

It might have been in a major metropolitan area but Bridgeton had that small town feel. Carrollton was just one subdivision in Bridgeton and it was a close community. My parents bought our house even before I arrived so it was in this house where I came into the world and it was from this house I moved after I got married.

I don't quite know how to convey the security I felt when I was growing up and how my neighborhood, friends and neighbors were such a big part of that feeling. It was my friends, Bobby, Gina, Shannon and Laura, who I played with all the time. It was the old couple down the street, Bob and Jessie, who let me play in their yard and who always enjoyed my company when they were sitting on their back porch. It was Mr. S whistling every time I walked outside. It was Jean across the street who never wanted us playing in her yard and yelled at us half the time but who also clearly appreciated our family and the help my dad would give her when she needed it. It was the neighbors across the street for whom I babysat. It was the clown down the street who made balloon animals for us every Halloween but God forbid we stepped in his yard any other time of the year!

I have so many memories, both good and bad, that created "me". Riding bikes in the church lot, climbing the Haefner's tree, trick-or-treating, spying on friends, building the most incredible forts after the huge snow storm in 1982 and having snow ball fights with friends, running inside every time the fighter jets flew overhead because the sound scared me, swinging in my back yard, fighting with Stephanie, flashlight "communication" with Bobby, tar tag and kick the can, catching lightning bugs, skinned knees, watching my dog giving birth to puppies, burying the dead one in our backyard, walking to school for the first time and several times after that, being flashed, the pool, the St. Lawrence carnival, walking to Dairy Queen for ice cream and Corner Drug Store for candy, watching the storm sewers flood after a big rain, the sound of church bells, introducing myself to every new neighbor and inviting them to church, parades, fire works, taking dares, exploring...

As I got older, it was talking on the phone, Gina picking me up for school in her little red truck, learning how to drive, sitting outside waiting...hoping...for someone to stop by, sitting outside on the driveway talking to friends, summer nights, sneaking drinks, sitting in cars with boys...And even later, it was late night conversations, make out sessions and my loss of virginity with my future husband.

Every year my mom would have my sisters and I stand against the wall in the closet so she could mark our growth. In the fourth grade, Mrs. Jones gave me a tree to plant. I planted it in my back yard and every year I watched it grow...an amazing experience. As it's roots buried deeper into the ground, so did mine.

As time passed, the rumors of the airport's plan for expansion became a reality. One by one, homes were being purchased. Many people would fight, refusing to sell their homes. But as property values declined so did peoples' desire to make improvements to their home. It was a neighborhood depressed. The crime rate increased as looters raided vacant homes. Because home owners weren't making improvements their property deteriorated and looters, assuming houses were unoccupied, would break into homes that were still inhabited. Driving through the neighborhood, you could see signs in yards saying, "Someone still lives here" or "I won't think twice about shooting an intruder." Arson claimed several homes.

My childhood home was bought out long ago forcing my sister and her daughter to move. Although it lay empty, something kept pulling me back to that place. I would sit outside staring at this place that raised me....staring at the tree that I planted...angry at those people that thought displacing an entire neighborhood was a good idea for a runway that is barely used. After it was torn down, I stood on the rubble that was my home. After it was cleared away, I drove by over and over...at least my tree was still standing. Eventually, access to my street was denied by huge concrete barriers. And this past Monday, February 8th, the last house in Carrollton was torn down.

My childhood home is gone, the neighborhood nonexistent, but I still feel the pull. I think there will always be a part of me that will be searching for my home. And I hope someday I will find that special place where I can plant another tree and establish those roots again. Until then, I will keep driving by...

Let's get to work...

2009-01-21T13:00:00.000-08:00

Okay...I was thrilled with the events of yesterday. The inauguration was motivating and inspiring. I was moved by the people of this great country who came together in a spirit of unity to welcome and embrace our new President. I truly have hope for the future. But, in all honesty, I did not vote for Barack Obama and I doubt that he possesses the "magic" that others seem to think he has. I do not wish for him to fail...exactly the opposite. I do like him alot but I am not going to be blinded by his charisma or how mainstream media portrays him. Anybody can look like a saint if the film is edited in a flattering way. Now I want to see what he and our other leaders do. The next four years will surely be interesting to watch!

A Dream Fulfilled

2009-01-19T12:37:00.000-08:00

Every year on this day, I read Martin Luther King, Jr's "I Have a Dream" speech and every year I am touched and moved to tears by his words describing the world that once was and his vision and hope for the future. Today his words are especially moving as our country welcomes and celebrates the inauguration of our country's first black president, Barack Obama. Thank God for Dr. King and people like him who have fought for their dreams and for the freedom of the people of our country. If not for them, this day might not have ever come.

Desiderata, by Max Ehrmann

2009-01-14T06:24:00.000-08:00

I came across this poem on a friend's blog and fell in love with it. Written by Max Ehrmann, the poem was inspired by an urge that the author wrote about in his diary, "I should like, if I could, to leave a humble gift -- a bit of chaste prose that had caught up some noble moods." So, I pass his gift on...

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others,even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals,and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.

Thought of the Day

2009-01-07T09:15:00.000-08:00

"How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in your life you will have been all of these." --George Washington Carver

Words of Love and Wisdom

2009-01-06T15:12:00.001-08:00

There are several phrases I seem to repeat to my children. Here are some of them:

1) I love you in whatever way you say plus one. (In response to our "I love you" competitions)
2) Treat others the way you wish to be treated....not the way you WERE treated.

3) It's the journey, not the destination that is important.

4) Respect my boundaries and expect others to do the same for you.

5) Two wrongs don't make a right!

6) Be careful! (Does that phrase really work???)

7) Stay together!

8) If you are always wishing for something different you will never be happy with what you have.

9) Have I told you I think you are the best kids in the world?

10) (This one helps me understand God) No matter what you do, wrong or right, no matter what mistakes you make, or who you hurt, I will always, always love you!!!!

The Secret, Part II

2008-12-30T12:09:00.000-08:00

"So, what about the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy? Did you tell him about them?"

They didn't even come to mind given that we were in the midst of the Christmas season. I figured I had gotten the Santa Clause part out of the way...I would tell him the rest eventually. Well, "eventually" came just a few days later.

Every evening the kids and I read books together. We all like to read but it's required homework for Ryan and Grace. Ryan and I usually read books that are a few grades beyond his grade level so we take turns reading but I probably read the majority of the time. On this particular day, Ryan was rather antsy during story time so was bouncing all over the bed, throwing pillows in the air and catching them, putting his feet inside the pillow cases and walking around like he was robot with giant pillow legs. I finally had enough and gave him a brief lecture about reading time. I explained that although I am reading, he must sit beside me and at least read along when it's not his turn to read. After a few more oppositional bouts of misbehavior, he settled by my side. Clearing my throat, I continued...

"But except for the voices of the clocks, Zinkoff is unaware of all this. He is too busy thinking about himself to notice what others are thinking. He is busy growing up. He is busy growing out.

"By the start of fifth grade Zinkoff has grown out..."

I pause...I have a read ahead and I see the words, "...of a whole flock of beliefs: Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy..." I may have stopped reading but the boy beside me has not. I burst into laughter as I, again, get pounced upon!

Gingerbread

2008-12-15T19:07:00.000-08:00

I am actually writing this in March but I am giving it a December date. I just uploaded some pictures and I definitely wanted to post this one of Grace and the gingerbread house we created. Grace loves...or should I say "loved" to decorate gingerbread houses! Every Christmas season, she begged to get one. This was never a tradition in my family as I was growing up but it is...or should I say "was" becoming one. But after this year, we will probably never build another gingerbread house...at least not when Grace is around.

We had such an awesome time putting our house together. We made the icing to just the right consistency, "glued" the gum drops along the roof top, clipped the gummy mint leaves to create greenery, and did plenty of sampling along the way. And of course, there was Christmas music in the background...Kenny G, Miracles, if remember correctly. There were probably vanilla candles, as well. Ahhhh, the memories...

Then came the begging. "Pleeeeeese, mom...I just want to try it! Can't I have a piece? Why would we make a gingerbread house and then just look at it?" I explained that we, at least, needed to show daddy when he got home. We worked so hard and it was so pretty. We needed to let someone else see it first before we devoured it.

Mike gets home...sees it...then onto the begging. "Pleeeeeese mom! I just want a little piece...I just want to try it!" I made sure we had a picture of it and I gave the kids the okay to "dig in".

Then came the eating...

A few hours later came the stomachache...

Not too long after that came the throwing up.

I should point out that Grace was the only one who was sick...just a lousy coincidence. But just because the gingerbread house was not the cause, this didn't stop Grace from correlating the two. She could not look at the gingerbread house without feeling queasy. We had to hide it! Before she walked into the kitchen she would ask me, "Are you sure I'm not going to see it when I go in there?" The smell made her sick. The thought of it made her sick. We threw it away so she would not have any visual or olfactory reminders.

Maybe next year Grace will have forgotten about the effect the gingerbread house had on her but something tells me that decorating a gingerbread house will not continue to be our yearly tradition.

The Secret

2008-12-12T14:59:00.000-08:00

I remember it as if it were yesterday. My sisters and I were decorating the Christmas tree. Our parents were sitting there with smiles on their faces, watching their daughters participate in our yearly tradition. But my mind was filled with thoughts of earlier that day when Bobby told me there wasn't a Santa Clause. I defended Santa vehemently. I knew he was real! I saw him, I sat on his lap and sent my Christmas list to him. There was evidence of his existence...a stocking filled with candy and presents under the tree with his name in the "From" space. I was not ready to give up that magical dream of flying reindeer whisking Santa from roof top to roof top delivering gifts. Should I ask? After mulling it over, I turned to my mom and asked, "Is Santa Clause real?" My sisters paused to see what her response would be.

"Do you want to know the truth?"

"Yes!" But I was secretly hoping she would confirm my belief.

"No, Santa is not real. We give you the presents...we are Santa."

The look on my face prompted my mother to ask if I was okay. I said yes and made some excuse about needing to go to my room. I broke down in tears. Tears of embarrassment, tears of a broken dream. I know...dramatic...but what wasn't at that age?

Now I am passing on this tradition of having my children believe in Santa. Over and over I have thought about the time when my children will ask me the question, "Is he real?" How will I spare them the disillusionment I felt when I learned the truth? Well, that time arrived with Ryan a couple of weeks ago.

My sister, Cheryl, had come over to the house to help Ryan with a school project while I gave Nathan a bath, read to Grace and got them ready for bed. She called me shortly after she left and explained that Ryan was asking her if the story of Santa Clause was truth or fiction. Earlier that day, a boy in Ryan's class announced his knowledge that his parents were actually the one's who give him gifts from Santa. He relayed the story of how he snuck out of his room last year witnessing his parents wrapping gifts and filling his stocking. The next morning he realized the presents he was opening from "Santa" were in the identical gift wrap his parents were using the night before. He put two and two together...

Cheryl didn't know what to tell Ryan so she confirmed that Santa is real and then called me to let me know that Ryan is questioning his existence. I had already been toying with the thought of telling Ryan the truth. I wanted him to know before he found himself in the position of defending Santa as I did when I was a child.

Ryan got ready for bed and, true to our usual routine, I went into his room to have "a talk" and to say goodnight. I grasped for the right words. Maybe I could get him to ask me about it...that would be a place to start...but how could I get him to ask me???

I told him a story I once heard about the way another boy learned about Santa. This boy's grandmother asked him to pick out a child in his class that did not seem to have as much as the other children or one who was possibly not liked as well as others. The boy quickly thought of a child in his class who came to school dirty and who was teased by some of the other kids. The grandmother announced that they were going to take a trip to Dollar General. When they arrived at the store, she gave her grandson $20 and told him to go inside the store and choose a gift he thought the boy in his class could use. Her grandson returned with a new coat. They went home, wrapped the gift in Christmas paper, decorated it with a bow and affixed the tag. She instructed her grandson to address it to his classmate and then write "From Santa". After it was dark, they went to the boys house, placed the box on his doorstep, rang the doorbell, ran and hid behind some nearby bushes. They watched as the door opened. Someone walked out noticing the gift. They boy and his grandmother heard them call the recipient's name. His classmate ran to the door and grabbed the box. They saw the joy and excitement on his face. The next day "Santa" went to school and saw this boy walk in wearing his new coat. The boy walked a little taller and had a smile on his face. He went to his teacher and showed her his new coat. This warmed the grandson's heart and helped him to realize that anyone can be Santa.

Ryan loved the story! And I'm glad he did but my hope was that he would then ask me more questions about Santa. That didn't seem to be working so I finally decided the direct approach was probably better.

"Ryan, I have an adult secret to tell you and I am trying to decide if you are old enough to hear it."

Ryan looked at me wide eyed. I could just see the wheels turning...of course he would want to know an adult secret!!!! "Yes, Mom, I'm old enough...tell me!!!"

I explained to him that one reason I told him the story above is to show him that anyone can be Santa Clause...even him! Then we talked about the boy in Ryan's class and his belief that Santa is not real. I asked Ryan if he wanted to know the truth about Santa. He answered in the affirmative so I apprehensively announced to him that his Dad and I are Santa and waited for his reaction.

He sat there for a moment staring at me in disbelief, mouth and eyes wide open, looking surprised. Then he smiled, started laughing and tackled me saying, "You rascal!" (Where he gets phrases like that, I have no idea!). He repeated over and over, "I am in shock! I don't believe it!" At the same time he admitted there was part of him that doubted a man could bring toys to every child in the world, in one night, being transported by a bunch of reindeer. He said that sounded a little silly. After this news sunk in he told me he wished I wouldn't have told him because he had plans to go to the North Pole someday to visit Santa's workshop. I pointed out to him that whether I told him the truth or not, there still wouldn't have been a Santa's Workshop on the North Pole.

It took Ryan awhile to reorganize his beliefs to make sense of the world again. That evening he got out of bed about ten times to ask me questions about Santa, reindeer, stockings, presents, where his Christmas lists had gone, etc. He eventually fell asleep.

Later, I told Mike about what had transpired that night and about how I revealed the truth about Santa. After he thought about it awhile, he asked, "What about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny?" Ugh...We'll cross that bridge when we come to it!

Good Bye, Montana...

2008-12-08T07:20:00.000-08:00

Saturday was a difficult day. Much different from that day 16 1/2 years ago when my sister and I browsed the adoption center at the Humane Society in search of dogs to call our own. I picked a sad-looking dog with spots on his tongue. This little black puppy was sitting in his poop and I was just sure no one else would want him. He was a Lab-Shepard mix, clearly looking more like a Lab. Sandy chose his brother...a playful, black, brown and tan puppy resembling a German Shepard. We named them. Mike and I named our dog Dakota, which means "friend". Sandy chose the name Montana.

Later that same year, our family acquired another canine...a short haired Chihuahua-Terrier mix, whom we named Lexi. This dog belonged to my mom. We all lived together but each of us were raising our own dogs.

Through time and circumstance, Mike and I ended up with all three dogs. Phew! It has not been easy. Dakota was very athletic and could effortlessly clear the top of most fences. And all of the dogs loved to "door dash" whenever the opportunity presented itself. I remember them coming home, happily panting after their hour long trek around the neighborhood, smelling like they rolled in dead animal and trash. Baths all around!

Although having three dogs was a bit overwhelming, there were good times. Montana and Dakota could wrestle around in the back yard for hours. Lexi would also join in but was a bit crabbier than the boys and would "punish" them with a scolding bark if they got too rough. When we took Dakota for a walk he would take the leash in his mouth. It looked like he was walking himself. Dakota also had this awesome ability to smell a rock and fetch the same one from under water. That was impressive!

Lexi established herself as the queen. She used to guard the food bowls and would not allow the boys to eat until she was done....well...and even when she was full. When we realized the dog bowls were staying full (and when Dakota and Montana started looking at us as though we were going to be their next meal), we had to intervene. Eventually, they had to eat on separate floors! Otherwise, Dakota and Montana would have starved to death.

Montana, who had a loving but protective nature, was wonderful with children. They could climb on him, pull his ears, tail and hair, but he would never snap. Just a low growl indicating he had enough. He was probably the most loyal of the three and by far, the best behaved! All of the dogs brought so much to our lives...more than we realized or appreciated!

Time passes so quickly, especially for a dog. A couple of years ago, we lost Dakota to cancer. That was hard but we still had a part of him...Montana. The past couple of years have not been good for him. His heart has been strong but his body was not. Most mornings he had difficulty standing and when he did, his back legs would give out. His arthritis must have been painful but he never complained. We knew it was time. Making "the appointment" was hard but walking him into the office on Saturday morning was even more of an emotional challenge.

Mike and I lifted him up on the table and scratched him in all of his favorite places...his ears, his belly, his back...he just laid there waiting. As the medication took effect, we could feel him relax and sensed the release of his soul. I can only pray that there is special place in heaven for dogs and that he is there reunited with his brother.

No Boys Allowed!

2008-11-03T18:21:00.000-08:00

One day last week, Grace posted this sign on her door. You can read the "No Boys allowed in my room". Under that she wrote, "Dad, you and Nathan can come in my room." It would have been easier just to write "Ryan not allowed"! Anyway, I plan on keeping this note on her door until she is out of the house. :-)

Happy Halloween

2008-10-31T12:21:00.000-07:00

"My Radio Flyer Truck"

"Wow, a real live fire fighter!"

Mom/Grandma, Nathan and Summer

"Where is the fire? I'm going to put it out with sugar!"

Cheeeeeeeese!

Howdy y'all!

Ryan doing his Ninja stance!

Some believe Halloween is a Satanic holiday. I know a couple of people who choose not to participate in Halloween and I respect that completely! I admire anyone who feels strongly enough about something to live their beliefs. Especially when their choice might not be a popular one. But I look at Halloween differently.

I guess to some it would appear that Halloween is "evil" and that the participation in such translates into the celebration of evil. I decided to research the origins to determine if Halloween is actually a satanic holiday. What I learned was that it is not. It comes from Celtic custom, which is Pagan (not Satanic) in nature, which marked the end of the harvest season. When seasons changed the Druid's believed that there was one night when the dead could communicate with the living. I won't go into a huge history lesson but if you are interested, here is one minister's research about the celebration: http://www.new-life.net/halowen1.htm.

So, I guess the question becomes, should we participate in a celebration that has a Pagan origin? Maybe we shouldn't put up the Christmas tree either. It's my understanding that the Christmas tree is also Pagan in origin. Should African Americans not celebrate Kwanzaa? The individual who began Kwanzaa, Robert Karenga, tortured some of his followers, two women, whom he believed tried to poison him. He spoke of a desire to create an all black nation, separate from whites. He expressed hostility toward both Christianity and Judaism and set the holiday close to Christmas for this reason. My point is that our choice to participate in a yearly celebration that has an origin or whose symbols have an origin derived from a different belief system, doesn't translate into us encouraging an opposing belief system. Are there people who celebrate Kwanzaa who are racist? Sure. Are there people who participate in Halloween who celebrate evil? I am sure that is the case. But we don't. That's not what our family is about.

So, why do I allow my children to dress up in costume and go door-to-door for candy? I agree with what this person wrote, "We don't worship other gods or honor the dead on Halloween. Halloween is nothing but a secular time of fun and games -- an excuse for the kids to dress up and overload on sugar!"

October Update

2008-10-30T09:59:00.000-07:00

Maybe I should just retire from blogging. Finding time to sit down and jot down my thoughts seems impossible. Instead, they just swim around in my head, hoping to jump onto "paper" but after getting the kids to bed, I end up sitting on the couch, curled up with my blanket, to catch whatever show comes on at 9 p.m. and then I fall asleep. Mike calls it "assuming the position".

Since I don't have a lot of time, I will try to quickly list the happenings in my life over this past month. Since the majority of the time was spent working, helping kids with homework, getting them to bed, and sleeping, I will leave those off the list so the list should be very short.

1) I got a ticket driving the wrong way on a one-way road in a construction zone. I NEVER go this particular route because the road is closed going one direction but I was sort of forced to turn this way one day so decided, "Just this once." Ughhh! And there he was. I needed to turn right onto a street and he was making a left (going the correct way)...right there when I was breaking the law! But he was really nice and I actually wrote him a letter letting him know how much I appreciated him. It probably seems strange that I would write a letter thanking an officer in this situation but I was thankful for the example he gave to my children, especially after the violence my niece experienced at the hands of a police officer and the effect that situation had on my family. That's another story...

2) Nathan learned how to take off his diaper for easier access to Little Willie. The other day I found him sitting on the couch, diaper off, hand "there", watching TV. I thought, "This looks familiar!" What is it about boys/men watching TV with their hand resting "there"? Things that make you go "hmmmmm".

3) Nathan's language is coming along but I can't WAIT until he can say "truck", "walk" and "fork" without it always sounding like F@!#. The Parent's As Teachers lady suggested, when he mispronounces a word, that I state the word the way he just said it and then say the proper word like this..."Do you mean mit or milk?" That way he can hear the difference between his pronunciation and the proper one. In most cases, I have been doing that but when it comes to the words above...well...I can't for obvious reasons. I would never hear the end of it from the other kids. Anyway, it's a little embarrassing when we are in public and he is walking around saying "Mama, f@!#".

4) Grace finally lost both of her upper front teeth. THAT took forever. Her last tooth was just hanging there. I told her once that she looked like Nanny McPhee. So, she pushed her tooth forward so it was the only one hanging out of her mouth and said, "That's enough now!"...which is a line in Nanny McPhee. I laughed so hard. Anyway, she would NOT let me pull it. It was driving me crazy! Confession...I even snuck into her room when she sleeping just to try to wiggle it! I didn't get it but it fell out the next day. So, now she is a cute little 7 year old with no front teeth. She is soooooo adorable!

5) Ryan continues to be totally obsessed with Pokemon cards! Is this normal? He's like a Pokemon junky. I think I am going to need to do an intervention and soon before I lose him to this other world.

6) Ryan also lost a tooth. In fact, last night he wrote a note to the Tooth Fairy. It said, "Instead of money, please leave me three packs of Pokemon cards." See what I mean? Junky, right? He wrote two notes before that. One said, "Dear Tooth Fairy, I will only accept $10". The second note read, "Dear Tooth Fairy, I will only accept Pokemon cards." We explained that making demands of the Tooth Fairy was probably not the best way to get what he wanted." So, he changed the note and got $3. The next morning he ran over to me and showed me the money and said, "The Tooth Fairy didn't give me Pokemon cards but she gave me money so I can go buy Pokemon cards!"

7) Mike, Cheryl and I went to the hockey game last Friday. I had sooooooooo much fun but I barely watched the game. Sarah Palin was there to drop the puck. The reaction from the crowd was amazing. Most people cheered...I being one of them. I happen to really like Sarah Palin. What I didn't get were the people that booed with such hate and vengeance and banged on the glass as if Sarah Palin single-handedly killed everyone in their family. Get a grip! Anyway, we spent most of our time talking to friends. I spend so much time in my "mommy world" that I forget what it's like to actually go out and socialize. I was energized for three days after.

8) We went to my sister, Annica's, baby shower last Saturday. It was a lot of fun. I love those little shower games, especially the dirty diaper one where they put different things in a diaper and you have to guess what it is. I won that game, btw. But there was this other game we played and I completely pissed off one of the other guests! When we arrived we were each given a necklace with a little plastic pacifier attached. The rule was if anyone said the word "baby" and you caught them, you got the necklace. Whomever had the most necklaces at the end, won a prize. Anyway, there was this woman...I didn't know her at all...whom I decided to trick. This had worked for my sister earlier in the evening so I thought I would try it. I asked her, "Hey, Where is Annica registered?" She politely responded, "Babies R Us". I smiled and asked her for her necklaces. Ohhhhh, she was not happy! So much for fun and games. For some reason the person next to her took her necklace and said she heard it first. I wasn't about to get in a brawl over it so I just let it go. When my "victim" left she said that it was nice to meet everyone except for me. :-( Boo hoo. Actually, I don't really care. It was only a silly game and she was a poor sport!

9) Ryan and Grace had a fall festible (that's how Grace pronounces it) at their school. That was fun! There were games, prizes, cheap food, raffle baskets that I didn't win, etc.

10) On Saturday we are going to a Trivia Night. If we win, it will NOT be because I contributed anything! I love to go to trivia nights but I benefit the team best as a member of the cheering section than anywhere else.

Well...looky there....I actually found some time to write something. But don't expect anything for awhile. Now that the holiday season is approaching, I am sure I will be busier than ever!

2008-09-26T14:53:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago we took a little day trip to Elephant Rocks State Park. Whenever we go there, we like to stop along the way at the Sandy Creek Covered Bridge. This is one of the last covered bridges in Missouri.

Here are a few pictures. And of course we had to take those goofy pictures where we're pretending to hold up or push over the rocks. Ryan was actually a little worried that one would start rolling down the hill.

I felt so bad for Nathan. He ended up getting sick that day. He was fine when we were at the covered bridge but wouldn't eat anything. By the time we got to the park, he had a fever but we didn't have any Tylenol or Advil. It was probably a good thing that he didn't feel like climbing. All he wanted to do was sit in his stroller. At the end, we gave him a grape Capri Sun, which he promptly threw up all over Mike. He felt MUCH better after that. (Nathan, that is) Mike didn't have a shirt to change into so, embarrassed by his golfer's tan, traveled home covered by a Harry Potter towel. I could not stop laughing!

The Lemonade Stand

2008-09-26T13:52:00.000-07:00

I wrote this some time ago...right after Labor Day weekend...but I just found time to upload my pictures to my computer so I could post them.

This past weekend was one of the best I have had in a long time. Saturday morning, I got out of bed and began my usual routine of getting the kids ready for the day, making breakfast, and cleaning the house. I looked over at our kitchen table and there sat two coolers and a huge container of lemonade. I am embarrassed to say they had been sitting there for the past two weeks...since our pool party on the 17th. I managed to clean them but had not returned them to their usual location in the dark recesses of our basement. Anyway, it gave me an idea. As Ryan, Grace and Nathan were eating I asked if they would like to have a lemonade stand. They were excited about this business venture so our work began.

We started discussing our "business plan". Ryan was listening intently. Grace was dancing around the kitchen, falling to the floor, playing with Nathan...basically bored with the discussion. She agreed she wanted to be a part of the venture but planning was not her thing. She decided to go next door to play with Alli. By default, Ryan became the manager of the business.

With entrepreneurial spirit, I took this as an opportunity to teach Ryan a little bit about how to run a small business. We began making a list of what was needed for the lemonade stand, itemizing our expenses and discussing the meaning of "overhead". We discussed advertising as he drew the word "Lemonade" with black bubble letters on a sign. When Grace returned home, she decorated the sign with markers and crayons. Ryan wasn't too pleased with her making changes to his sign but then we started talking about ways to make your business unique and memorable. First impressions are very important so a bright colored sign was not a bad thing. Ryan thought about this and thanked Grace for her efforts.

We discussed the expenses of the business. We told Ryan that we would go shopping to get some things we needed such as ice and cups, but he was expected to pay us back. This launched us into a discussion about credit and interest. We told him that we would not charge interest but in "the real world", when you borrow money, you pay much more than the original price...sometimes several times as much.

Ryan accompanied Mike to the store to buy some things that were needed. As they walked through the aisles they talked about the quality of the product, figuring out what to charge and about the correlation of supply and demand. They also decided to add a second product to sell at the stand...rice crispie treats! This led them into a deeper discussion about the quality of your product. Would people rather have "store bought" rice crispie treats or "home made"? Also, which one was more cost effective? Mike and Ryan decided to conduct an experiment about which one would benefit the business more so purchased both. Ryan's position was that most people would want the premade treats. Mike was confident that people would prefer homemade. Also, Mike pointed out, that many more treats can be made if they were made at home.

After they returned home we made the lemonade and the rice crispie treats. We set up a canopy, which was originally intended to offer shade to Ryan and his "employees". We were pleasantly surprised when we realized that people were coming down our street to see what was going on at our house because the canopy caught their eye. Ryan hired two employees (Grace and Alli), we posted the sign, set out the products including both types of treats, and they were in business.

Business was slow at first. Ryan, Grace and Alli were sitting in their chairs, watching cars pass by. We started talking about how to draw people to their business. They decided that jumping up and down and yelling "LEMONADE!!!!" was a good idea. They were happy to find that this worked and business picked up a little. During down time, we talked about ways to draw more customers if this were a real business. I asked if we were in a good location. Grace pointed out that the mall would be a better place because there were more people. All three of the kids came up with excellent ideas about how to make this business more successful. I had to leave for a short time. When I returned they excitedly shared stories of customers buying lemonade. Ryan came to the conclusion that it's best if an adult is not present! Interesting. I decided to watch from inside the house.

It was a short time later when Ryan came running in to tell me that Alli got mad and kicked over the lemonade stand. When I went outside to see what was wrong I realized that a) Alli did not kick over the stand and b) this disgruntled employee had a valid reason for her complaint. This brought us to another discussion about the importance of treating employees fairly and letting them know they are valued. We talked about how important employees are to the success of a business. Although this little conflict blew over, it was soon after that both Ryan's employee's quit. Being Labor Day weekend and the last days the pool would be open, Grace and Alli examined their priorities and decided swimming was more important. Ryan compensated them ($3.00 each) for their time and off they went.

Ryan tried to keep the business going on his own but he discovered that having employees not only made the job more enjoyable, they were also very much needed. He hired two more employees, Devin and Summer, who did an excellent job helping him out until the end of the day.

Eventually, Ryan decided to close shop as business had slowed considerably and he wanted some time to play. After we cleaned up, Ryan paid Summer and Devin and counted the remainder of his money. He had about $10. His heart sank when he realized that the expenses would greatly reduce his profit. I had him imagine all of the things that would have been expenses had we not already had them handy...the canopy, chairs, coolers, crayons, markers, poster board, tape, lemonade, and a driveway! I explained that most small business don't turn a profit for three years! Then I let him off the hook and told him he could keep his money. That put a smile on his face and for the next couple of days he talked about the lawn mowing and leaf raking businesses he was going to start.

As for our experiment with the Rice Crispie Treats, we learned that most people prefer the Rice Crispie Treats made at home. But apparently, the homemade treats weren't as desirable to kids. For some reason, they wanted the individual, pre-packaged item. Hmmmm...I wonder why that is. An experiment for another day, I guess.

August Rush

2008-08-18T19:39:00.000-07:00

Although the title of this post is the name of a recent movie, it is also a term adequately describing this month. The beginning of school, the return of Boy Scout meetings and violin lessons, gymnastics lessons, two birthdays (and parties), and we have happily added an adoption to the month. The start of school also brings with it Meet the Teacher night, parent/child school orientation, PTA meetings, and homework. Needless to say, I'm exhausted!

It's interesting to compare the perspective of the child's versus the parents. I remember a carefree childhood, walking to and from school, playing with friends, coming in for dinner when I was called, the dreaded announcement of "bath time" (that always meant I had to come in early), laughing (or arguing) with my sisters, bed time stories about Brer Rabbit and Brer Bear...etc. I don't recall being rushed or feeling any need for organization or responsibility. But as an adult I feel much more pressure to get things done on time, to fit it all in in a day, to keep things organized, etc. Do my children notice this? Do they sense the pressure I experience? Or are they living the same type of carefree childhood I had, oblivious of the pressures of the adult world? I hope so.

Adoption Day Photos

2008-08-07T19:25:00.001-07:00

It's a Boy!!!!

2008-08-06T18:25:00.000-07:00

Most children join a family at birth in a hospital. Our son officially...legally...joined our family in a court room. We entered the court room surrounded by family...the people who will love, support and help raise our children along with us. Our attorney sat to our right. A social worker to our left. The judge in front of us. We raised our right hand vowing to tell the truth and the hearing began.

Tim (our attorney) asked me a series of questions: Will you state your name for the record? Where do you live? Are you married to the man sitting next to you? What was the date of your marriage? What is Nathan's birth date? When was he placed in your home? Is it your intention to finalize the adoption of Nathan today? Do you believe you can care for, maintain and educate Nathan? Do you believe this adoption is in Nathan's best interest? I answered all of these questions...they were familiar. I've heard them a hundred times before only I was the adoption specialist, not the adoptive parent.

Then it was Mike's turn: Where you present in the courtroom when your wife was asked the previous questions? If you were asked the same questions would your answers be the same? Do you believe this adoption is in Nathan's best interest?

When the attorneys were through with us, they turned to the social worker, asking about our ability to care for, maintain and educate Nathan but my mind was wandering. I was staring at Nathan, so proud of this little boy who in just moments would be my son. I couldn't imagine my life without him and quietly thanked God for bringing him into our lives. I glanced over at Ryan and Grace...two amazing children who love having Nathan as their little brother, who are protective of him, care for him, love him and fully accept him as though born to our family. But today he was born to us...born in a court room with a judge announcing his birth...

"The court finds that the adoption of this child is in the child's best interest and from this day forward for all intents and purposes shall be the child of the petitioner and that his name shall be changed to Nathaniel William Ray...."

Grace's Joke

2008-08-04T19:08:00.000-07:00

Mike was telling Ryan and Grace jokes this evening and Grace came up with one of her own. Here it is:

Grace: Why did the elephant fly on a plane?
Mike: Why?
Grace: So he could take a trip to Florida.

I don't know about you, but I thought that was the funniest joke ever!

Chivalry

2008-08-01T17:51:00.000-07:00

The other day after work I picked the kids up from my moms and came home. It was raining. My hands were full. I was carrying a toddler, a case I brought home from work, my purse, Nathan's shoes, which he insists on taking off every time we are in the car, and an umbrella. I gave my keys to Ryan so he could unlock the door. He and Grace ran ahead. I was walking up the stairs to the door just as Ryan turned the doorknob. He and Grace walk in and SLAM...the door shuts. I am still standing outside. I opened the door, barely holding on to the contents in my arms. I immediately turn to Ryan and explain that he should hold the door open for me. This enters us into a conversation about chivalry.

Ryan doesn't quite understand. He feels that what I am saying is that females are more important that males. I try to explain that holding the door open for a girl/woman in no way means that females have greater importance. We discuss how God made men and women differently and how men, historically, were the protectors and caretakers of the family.

I find myself awkwardly trying to explain the meaning of chivalry. The term was historically used in medieval times and was a code of courtesy, especially of a man toward a woman. At that time, it was believed that women were the fairer or weaker sex and one of the duties of a knight was to serve their lady and to be gracious and gentle with all women. But times have changed, obviously. The line between the roles of men and women are blurred. I am not against this by any means. But as I get older, I can see the individual gifts that we each have. I can see how and why we were created differently. And in some way, I wish the roles were more clearly defined.

So, I'm looking for advice. Should a boy still be taught to be chivalrous? If so, how do I explain to my boys why this is important?

Buyer's Remorse

2008-07-25T19:59:00.000-07:00

Mike has been driving a Ford Ranger since before we were married. He racked up 250,000 miles. He hasn't had air conditioning in about three years. For those who know him, you can imagine how he, especially, is completely miserable. Secondly, the transmission is shot. When he's driving he has to skip fourth gear because it will get stuck there. He forgot a couple of times and we had to have it towed. To make things even more unpleasant for him, he can barely get the thing in reverse without everyone turning their heads to determine if the truck is actually going to explode. Also, every once in awhile, for no apparent reason, the alarm will go off. Needless to say, it's time.

So, today we set off in search of a new car! We did our research analyzing specs, pricing, and the various features. We narrowed it down to the car we wanted. We planned our strategy ahead of time.

1) We weren't going to test drive the car...at least not in the beginning. We wanted to know what the price was going to be. What would be the point of driving the car if we couldn't agree on a price? We also didn't want to fall in love in the car before the negotiation. We knew what we wanted but didn't want this to be an "emotional" decision. AND when we did test drive the car...it would be by ourselves! No way were we going to have some high pressure sales person riding along with us.

2) We weren't going to buy today. We were going take the first offer to another dealership to see if they could beat that price. Our salesperson might be begging for us to stay but we weren't going to. Sure, we would give them our cell number and if they could come up with something better, they could just give us a call and we would consider it. But they were going to have to work for our money!

3) We were going to demand free financing. Other dealerships offer this...we saw the ads.

4) We had a number set in our minds and we firmly agreed not to go above that point! Non-negotiable.

5) There was no way we were going to get the extended warranty.

So, we pulled into dealership parking lot, looked at each other before getting out of the car and took a deep breath. Suddenly I felt like I was in a Western. We got off our horses with our spurs jingling. Mike spit on the dusty ground and adjusted the hat on his head and the gun on his side. Off in the distance, we noticed the enemy. Dirty and unshaven, he gave us a cold stare, eyeing up his opponent. With bowed legs and our hands near our sides, ready to grab our guns in a split second we walked toward each other.

"Hi, how are you folks doing today? Can I help you with something?" Okay, he was actually this really nice salesperson. Chris was his name. Firm handshake, good eye contact, clean shaven and not dirty at all, as far as I could tell. But no matter how much we liked him, we would not stray from the plan. We told him what we were interested in and he led the way. We were looking over the cars when he asked, "Would you like to take it for a drive?" Mike and I looked at each other. "Yes...sure". So, Mike and I got in the front and Chris hopped in the back. So much for #1 of our strategy. So far, not so good!

As we were driving , Chris pointed out the features. We also learned more about him...not at his urging...at mine. I tend to want to know people so in those moments of silence I thought I would ask him some questions. He was a senior in college, majoring in finance with an emphasis in real estate. He doesn't mind selling cars but it's not his favorite thing to do. He hoped to get into banking following graduation. He did his share of partying in college but was able to maintain a balance that allowed him to be successful in school. When his hair was longer he looked like Will Ferrell and in fact, talks like him, after a few beers. He gets the music they play at the dealership stuck in his head and sometimes finds himself dancing to 80s music. We, in fact, witnessed this for ourselves when he didn't know we were looking. I really liked this guy. I wanted him to earn the commission on this sale. Uh-oh...this wasn't good.

We completed our test drive and went inside. Chris sat us down in a glass cubicle and left to get the specs sheet and pricing information. When he returned he asked, "So, what would it take for you to leave with a car today?" And the negotiation began. We told him what we wanted...the model, the features...but not the price we were considering. We explained that we had no intention of buying today. We would be going to another dealership after we left. He gave us a number. No good...we won't go above THIS number.

Then they bring in the big guns...Greg! He is the stereotypical car salesman...so stereotypical it made me chuckle. Slicked back long hair, tan as can be, with an arrogance you can practically taste! He handed us his business card. His name is Greg "Armani" (can I throw up now?) and had the same last name as ours...and did they try to use that to their advantage!

We continued the back and forth. We threatened to walk a couple of times. We seem so tough, don't we? In actuality we had NO idea what we were doing. They would leave and I would call my sister asking for advice. Mike and I would whisper to each other our questions and concerns about the process but when "Armani" walked in, we feigned confidence. "We must have free financing." "No can do!" "Alrighty then...we'll go ahead and just take the 3.9%"

Four hours and several thousands of dollars later we agreed. Phew! On to the next phase...financing. And we thought the negotiating was over. Of course they had to push the extended warranty. They explained several packages of extended warranties that would make our monthly payment higher than we could ever imagine paying. We were firm...no, no, no, no, no! But they had one more trick up their sleeve. The finance specialist spoke to Armani. He liked us SO much that he decided to "adopt" us since we have the same last name! (Gag me!) So, we were offered the employee rate! N-O! At least we followed one part of our well thought out plan.

Finally, Mike and I walked out the door, satisfied with our purchase, happy that a college student would be earning the commission. We're almost to the car when I turn around and look at our salesman, Chris. Did I just see him blowing the smoke from his gun and putting it back in the holster? Crap!

2008-07-18T19:31:00.000-07:00

I originally started this thinking it was going to be a fairly brief post but it went in a completely different direction and turned into a lengthy history lesson. Sorry about that!

I have worked in the field of adoption for the past 12 years. I currently work for a private adoption agency, one that was founded in the late 1800s. In fact, I am the search specialist for this agency. I am fascinated by the history of adoption! One of my favorite places to be is our record room...the room that houses the hundreds of records of children who came to our agency for various reasons and who left, hopefully in the arms and embrace of loving parents.

This is the ideal image but in reality, there is more pain than one would like to imagine. The pain seems to correspond with the time in history. In the late 1800s, early 1900's children came to our agency from the city or rural communities miles away by train or buggy. They came to us for a variety of reasons. In some cases, one or both of their parents had died of a disease that would be easily cured today. Some were placed because their parents were living in poverty with no money or means to care for them. And many were removed from their parent's care due to abuse or neglect. For whatever reason, children came to our agency to be placed in foster care or for adoption. The pain of being separated from their previous familiar surroundings didn't stop there.

Siblings were more often than not separated never to see each other again. The sibling relationship was not valued so was not given thought or consideration. There were identical triplet boys placed with our agency who were given to three separate childless couples. All were eventually adopted and so their last names changed to that of their adoptive parents. Amazingly, as adults two of them ran into each other at a store. It was as though they were looking in the mirror but they brushed it off as coincidence. It wasn't until some time later that they learned they were related and that there was a third! Their reunion was remarkable as one could imagine.

After siblings were placed many tried to reconnect with their brothers and sisters by writing to the agency. Efforts were made to pass along correspondence but many in society felt that one should leave well enough alone, that these children needed to go on with their lives. Foster and adoptive parents sometimes refused letters and never told their new son or daughter that a sibling inquired about them. These people moved on with their lives left with a gaping hole and were never given the tools to deal with their losses.

The goal for these children was adoption but many were returned to our agency for replacement. Some children were returned again and again for displaying what we now know are normal behaviors of children traumatized by abuse, neglect, separation and loss. They were "incorrigible" or "feeble minded", "slow learners" or "lazy". There was actually a school called The School for the Feeble Minded. Back then, a child's emotional state due to past experiences was not considered. They were not supposed to feel or act out their anger or frustration. The children were there to please their foster or adoptive parents.

At that time, there was very little that was or could be done to ensure that these foster parents were appropriate...a one page application with two references. One reference had to be from the pastor of their church and another from a friend or neighbor. It was important for them to have good standing in the community. Families would come to the orphanage to look over the children, trying to choose one that looked like them or a boy who was strong enough to work in the fields or a girl who was able to help around the house. When a choice was made either they would take the child with them or, if they were not at the agency when the child was chosen, the child would be sent to them by train.

Most families did as they were asked and kept in contact with the agency. Home visits were made by staff members or those associated with the agency to gather information about the child's schooling, religious upbringing, whether or not their behaviors were "acceptable" or if the parents were "pleased" with the child. Foster parents were encouraged to adopt and many did. Others were asked to sign a contract. The contract bound them to care for the child until the child was 18 years of age at which time they were to provide the child with "$50 and two suits of clothing". Then, dusting off their hands, their obligation was done!

As times changed, so did adoption. Eventually laws were put into place requiring the state to care for abused and neglected children when their parents could not. Private adoption agencies began working with young expectant mothers who were unmarried. If a woman became pregnant and did not get married, either by choice or due to the unwillingness of the birth father, the birth mother had little choice. These women were victims of societies standards. Many were made to feel they had shamed and humiliated their families. When they started to show they frequently left home for the remainder of the pregnancy, hidden from family and friends. A story was concocted to explain the birth mother's absence when in actuality, these young women were living at the maternity home near by, making arrangements to give their child to other parents to raise.

These woman did not feel they had a choice. If they chose to parent their child, either they, their child or both would be shunned and labeled. Friends and neighbors looked down upon the unwed mother. I am saddened for these women who were never allowed to grieve, never allowed to share their experiences with others. At that time people believed that it was best to never discuss "the issue" again. Many of these women went on with their lives, never telling their future husbands, children, another living soul and they carry this burden with them to their graves.

Again, time changed the face of adoption and for the better. Some will argue that society's morals have disintegrated over time. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, teenagers are getting pregnant left and right, children are being raised without fathers leaving the single mother with the burden of caring for her children alone. Although these realities are sobering, there are positives. It is now acceptable for someone to be unmarried and pregnant. I do not agree this is a good plan but single women and their children will not be labeled, shunned, rejected by society simply because they are unmarried and expecting or born to a single mother.

Women who find themselves in a difficult situation causing them to question their ability to parent have a choice to parent or not. If they chose adoption, they can make this decision knowing that most will praise them for this selfless, loving decision; a decision that clearly places them in a position of terrific pain and loss so their child will have a better future. No longer is their decision tainted by the opinions of society.

Fathers now have rights where they never did before. They are urged to be involved in the adoption planning and have the choice to parent, even if the birth mother does not feel she can.

The most important change is the evolution of the relationship of the triad (the birth parents, adoptive parents and adoptee). Birth parents now choose the adoptive parents. They meet each other, get to know one another, share information, and make decisions based on the best interest of the child. Information is shared and in many cases will continue to be shared throughout the years. Adoptees are told they are adopted and if their parents do as they should, they encourage their child to ask questions and seek answers about their history. No longer is there a need for secrecy and dishonesty.

Although times have changed, there continue to be hundreds of people who are still feeling the pain of the adoption experience. There are still adoptees living who were separated from their siblings 70 years ago. There are still birth parents afraid to tell anyone their "deep, dark secret". There are still adoptees that were raised not having any access to information about their birth families. There continue to be adoptive parents afraid of losing their son or daughter so have chosen not to even tell them they were adopted or who refuse to discuss the past. There are adoptees who decide not to learn more about their past for fear of hurting their parents who raised them. These are the people I work with. These are the people I care so deeply about. These are the people who have taught me so many valuable lessons, who will make my adoption experience and that of my son's more meaningful and healthy.

Conversation with a 6, 7 and 8 year old

2008-07-12T17:32:00.000-07:00

Today, Ryan, Grace, Ali (a neighbor girl) and I were hanging out in the kitchen when Ryan asked, would you rather eat poop or die? This began a series of intellectually stimulating "Would you rather..." questions.

1) The first question: Would you rather eat poop or die?
2) Would you rather eat poop or destroy the house?
3) Would you rather eat poop or kill me?
4) Would you rather eat poop or never eat again? (Do we see a pattern here?)
5) Would you rather have ten toes on each foot or three butt cheeks?
6) Would you rather have three eyes or three legs?
7) Would you rather have three eyes and three legs or have your butt where your face is and your face where your butt is?

Here were my answers: For 1-4 I chose eating poop. 5-This one was tough. Either one would require clothing to be specially made. If I had three butt cheeks, everyone would stare at my butt and, as Ali pointed out, there would be two cracks which would require double wiping. If I had twenty toes, would Mike still like my feet? Hmmmm...I think I would still have to go with the 20 toes. 6-My answer would depend on the location of the third eye. Probably I would choose the third eye unless it was on my face. In that case, I might choose a third leg. 7-I think I would rather have three eyes and three legs.

80s Hair

2008-07-10T12:21:00.000-07:00

Weren't the 80s the best??? There are a few reasons I decided to post these pictures. First, last week on Fox and Friends (my favorite morning news show) they had 80s week. They asked people to send in their 80s hair pictures. I never had the opportunity to send mine so here it is for all to see. Secondly, I recently sent these pictures to a friend and it made her laugh so hard she disturbed her coworkers. I like to make people laugh so I thought I would share. And lastly, every time I see my cousin, which I did this past weekend, she tells me that she was always so amazed by my hair when I was in high school and couldn't imagine how I could make it so.....big. Thankfully, people don't look at my hair now in amazement...wait...is that a good thing or a bad thing???

Anyway, please ignore the quality of these pictures. It looks as though the pictures got wet at some point. Also, please overlook the background...eek!

Getting to know your friends...

2008-07-08T09:27:00.001-07:00

Every once in a while I get a "Getting to know your friends" email. I don't usually pass it along...not sure why because I don't mind sharing. I thought I would just post it here:

1. What is your occupation? Adoption specialist, homemaker, taxi driver, errand runner, accountant, cook, therapist, playmate, all around personal assistant to the King (Mike), the princess (Grace) and our princes (Ryan and Nathan).
2. What color are your socks right now? I'm not wearing socks and don't usually in the summer...well...except at night when I'm cold.
3. What are you listening to right know? The sound of my space heater.
4. What was the last thing you ate? Two chocolate chip cookies
5. Can you drive a stick shift? I learned to drive using a stick. Once you know how, you never forget.
6. If you were a crayon what color would you be? Red...or green....maybe blue.
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone. My mom
8. How old are you today? 29!!!! Okay, I'm actually 37.
9. Favorite drinks? Diet Pepsi, milk, Riesling...not mixed together!!!!
10. What is your favorite sport to watch? Any sport my kids are participating in. I like to watch professional sports live, not on TV. And I enjoy baseball and basketball the most.
11. Have you ever dyed your hair? I have blonde highlights.
12. Pets? Montana and Lexi...two very old dogs!
13. Favorite foods? There are so many...most pastas, crab legs, barbequed pork steaks, party potatos, anything from The Melting Pot, chocolate and cheesecake.
14. Last movie you watched? One of the Die Hard movies...Live Long, Die Hard (I think)
15. Favorite day of the year? July 4th
17. What do you do to vent anger? Listen to music, clean, drive, raise my voice, lecture...it depends on why I am angry, where I am at the time.
18. What was your favorite toy as a child? My stuffed animals.
19. What is your favorite season? Fall
20. Hugs or Kisses? Hugs
21. Cherry or Blueberry? Neither really, but if I had to pick I would pick Cherry.
22. When was the last time you cried? Sunday on my way home from Ohio.
23. What is on the floor of your closet? Smelly shoes
24. Favorite smells? Vanilla candles, Home Depot, Mike's cologne (Chrome)
25. Favorite sounds? Fighter jets, train whistles, church bells, the ocean, children's laughter, the sax, thunder, the crackle of wood burning, bull frogs, fireworks, drum solos
25. Who inspires you? Soldiers, Firefighters, Police Officers (if they're honest)...anyone who sacrifices for the greater good.
26. What are you afraid of? Drowning, fire, stinging insects
27. What is the last book you read? Amazing Grace by Danielle Steele
28. What is your favorite candy? Snickers
29. Ocean, lake or river? Ocean
30. What was your first job? I was a Dairy Queen! And I can still make the Q!

Fourth of July Family Reunion

2008-07-07T10:14:00.000-07:00

Every time I think of my dad's side of the family getting together for our Fourth of July celebration I think of laughter. I remember it as a child and I love the sound to this day. This past Saturday I sat at my cousin's kitchen table and just listened to the voices. Several conversations going at once, everyone catching up with each other, relearning each other's lives, recalling past memories...and then the eruption of laughter. First from one side of the room and then the other.

I love my family and each one of my cousins, aunts and uncles hold a special place in my heart for different reasons...reasons I can't explain...they are just a part of who I am, part of my memories and childhood. Every year I enjoy seeing them, getting to know them again, hearing their lives, thoughts, opinions...finding out a little more about who they are. I love seeing my dad and his brothers come together again as adults and just imagine what they used to be like as boys. (This isn't difficult! Tee hee). I appreciate the traditions we have established...the men's golf outings, the women's shopping spree (even though I don't usually go), the Saturday night party, and children running in every direction.

So, what were the highlights from this year? Well, we established that "NO" Cheryl did not conceive the twins in Susan and Andy's yard at the side of the house. Uncle Bob actually did NOT have too much to drink this year! :-) He didn't grab any butts (as far as I know). Mike does an excellent job emptying the trash...and talking trash! Dad, Kathy and Tabitha have an awesome pool. Aaron and Tristan are excellent dancers. Twin babies eat, sleep and poop alot...but we already knew this. Nathan and Noah are adorable. According to Andy and Jim, I look like I have been spending time in South Africa...not funny!!!! Judy and Marilyn love their wine...glasses. Morgan should not jump on the trampoline with little children (just joking, Morgan)...but this did indirectly cause a trip to the hospital for Sophia. Jeff and Ellen still cannot get the word "sucker" off their foreheads...but they are the proud owners of a condo in Las Vegas! Jon and Gloria are proud grandparents for the third time! (We missed you Jason, Liz, Stephanie, Bobby and your little ones!!!) Andy can make coffee...oh...and don't ever wake him up! But by doing so, we found out that Sandy's boobs feel real! (Don't ask) Ed can debate healthcare reform like nobody can...except maybe Sandy. Aunt Judy is one of the most thoughtful people I know...thanks for the gifts! The man-cave is a meat locker. One should never pull Jim's finger. Bob made that mistake! Drew, Mitch and Greg taught Ryan a new word...Suckish! Celine has followed in her mother's footsteps and reads all the time...finished Harry Potter #5. John has freakishly soft hair. Alexis scared Caitlin with her stories about her childhood. Susan can still feed 55 people, throw a party, manage five kids, maintain a beautiful home, drink and relax all at the same time. She's amazing! And drunk people might cuss alot but they don't kill people (Ryan's worry!) Oh, and Grace did not get hurt once! Did I mention that I am a rock star? I'm totally addicted to Guitar Hero...thanks, Drew!

That about sums it up. I posted a few pictures...I didn't get to take that many. I'm still waiting for my sis to send me the ones on her camera and then I'll post more.

2008-06-07T14:33:00.001-07:00

Every year around this time there are certain events that mark the end of spring. First, May 26th is the birthday of two very important people...Mike's mom and his grandfather, whom we call "Poppie". Poppie was born in 1912 so he turned 96 this year! I won't tell Janice's age...I'm not sure if she would want me to share. Actually, I am not sure I know her age...29, I think. :-) Secondly, Mike's sister and her family also come into town from Scottsdale. (Chrissy, Darren, Emma and Jack) And, to celebrate the birthdays and Chrissy's visit, we take our yearly trips to the wineries...always alot of fun! We bring the kids along and they have a great time running around, playing catch, and wading in the creek...a place we go every single year to catch "Crawdaddies!!!!"

There is one phrase that comes to mind every time I think of the wineries and that is "Where's Jack?" This probably sticks with me because it is said/heard about every minute or so. Jack is our three-year-old nephew and is a boy like none I have ever known. He is forever disappearing and it only takes about 10 seconds for him to do so. He could be found climbing on a tractor, hiding under a porch, chasing the "winery dog", trying to get into someone's "American Idol" car (he thinks Fords are American Idol cars because the Ford and American Idol emblems are similar), doing his "hit me" dance for complete strangers and sometimes he is found chatting it up with other customers. Although this didn't happen at a winery, just today Jack showed a woman, whom he didn't know, his Thomas the Train underwear and then asked her if he could see hers....and it worked! (For those guys who might need a new pick up line).

Anyway, above are some pictures from the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately, Nathan wasn't able to come to the wineries with us...he was a little under the weather so stayed with Grandma that day. I can't wait to take him next year...he will love the creek! Mandy and Craig had a better time this time than years passed...they are 21 this year!

My Apologies...

2008-06-04T09:31:00.000-07:00

My name is Laura and I am not an alcoholic! However, I am somewhat familiar with the 12 Steps. I believe one of those steps is to apologize for those things you have done that have hurt people in your life. I am going to take this opportunity to do just that. Many of the things for which I am not proud, happened as a child. You would think I could forget these, recognizing my immaturity and developmental stage in life, but I haven’t. We are shaped by our experiences and these are now a part of me. On my quest to improve myself, I feel the need to right some wrongs. What better way than to do it publicly (as if there are really so many people reading this blog!).

I will begin with Stephanie. Stephanie was a girl who lived four houses up from mine. She was the girl no one liked. She was overweight, her hair was long, wavy and greasy, her clothes were stained and dirty, she smelled foul and had a personality to match. Rumors flew around the neighborhood about her mother being a prostitute and of her brother being in and out of jail. The police frequented their home and we all assigned various meanings to this.

At school I remember how mistreated Stephanie was by all of her classmates. She was teased unmercifully. She was called “Step-on-me” along with other choice names. And no one wanted “Stephanie germs”. If she touched you, you got the germs and then someone would have to get the pretend “Stephanie spray” to rid one of contamination. At the drinking fountain where normally there would be two lines formed (one for boys and one for girls), the lines changed. Instead there was the Stephanie line and the one for the other children. No one wanted to drink after her.

Stephanie was not a nice child. In fact, the only physical altercation I had ever been in was with Stephanie…and I was not a willing participant. She did not like that I had a friend (she wanted to be the only one) so she chased me home from school and when she caught me, she grabbed my hair and swung me around to the ground. I still remember the sound of the hairs ripping from my head. But I was not the only one who experienced her wrath. She cussed at other children, spit at them, punched and kicked them…

I was not always mean to Stephanie. In fact, I think the social worker in me has been present since I was very young. I tried several times to be friends with her. Another girl in the neighborhood and I would invite Stephanie over to play, do her hair, and tried in a sensitive way to tell her to shower. We would counsel her on how to make friends and treat them well. But whatever we tried, it seems that every effort was sabotaged in one way or another.

As I child, I didn't recognize what was happening in her home. I didn’t know that she was abused by her brother and sometimes had to jump out of the bathroom window to escape his beatings. I didn’t know that her mother had a substance abuse problem. I didn’t know what was happening to her behind the bedroom doors. I didn’t know these things until I was an adult. Some of these things I figured out on my own from my work with abused children and their reactions to abuse. Some of these things she told me directly when we ran into each other as adults. She shared with me how painful her childhood was…how she was abused not only at home but also by her peers at school and in the neighborhood.

Stephanie, I am deeply sorry for your experiences and for any participation I had in your abuse. I hurt for the childhood you had and wish I could’ve made it different for you, even though I was only a child myself. I know it does not help you now, but you have forever affected my life. I became a social worker to help children like you. I became an adoption specialist to help create the most educated, caring families so children won’t be treated like you were. And I teach my children about you…and other children like you. We talk about their classmates at school who are picked on, singled out, or those who abuse or bully their peers. We discuss the importance of treating all people with love and respect and to recognize that some of the most seemingly difficult children are children who are dealing with issues at home. I am grateful for the lesson but wish the lesson learned was not because of your experiences. I hope you have found happiness.

Moving on…Ms. Oster, my seventh grade history teacher…I am sorry I cheated in your class. I remember the day it happened and how horrible I felt. I went into Mrs. Gunnings room and tried so hard to pretend that I didn’t care…I didn’t want the other kids to know that it affected me so much. The next day you told me that you were watching me and based on what you saw, you didn’t think that I felt any remorse. You were so wrong…I think you might owe me an apology for that one! Because it did affect me and I spent the rest of the year trying to prove that I was trustworthy, whether you knew that or not. I have to say that this experience definitely shaped who I am. To this day, I wouldn’t dream of using someone else’s work to get ahead and the thought of losing someone’s trust makes my stomach turn. May every child get caught cheating at least once!

To Laura, my neighbor…I have to confess that I stole a Corey Hart poster from your bottom drawer. He was my idol and I loved him and believed all of his pictures belonged to me! I was even in his fan club! And I am not ashamed to admit that I still wear my sunglasses at night!!!!

Danny, I am sorry I hit you with my car. This is another experience I will never forget…the sound of the thud and the shattering of my windshield. I really thought I killed you! I know I didn't do any permanent damage but that day still haunts me. I guess we both learned from our mistakes. To this day, I still drive slowly in parking lots and I am sure you now know a little more about speed, distance and reaction time!

To the owner of the nursery on Lindbergh…I am sorry my friends and I stole your butt sign. It created a wonderful memory but it was wrong. I would pay for it if you were still in business.

Steve, the rumor starter…I am so sorry that we dumped 20 bags of leaves into your treeless yard. Wait…I am not sorry for that! I only hope that your parents made you spend your entire Saturday cleaning it up.

T.Y....I am sorry I never wore the necklace you gave me. I was young...stupid...and thought that if I wore it, it would give you the wrong idea. I regret that I wasn't more appreciative. I think I might still have the necklace, though.

To that bicyclist the other day...I didn't mean to give you a scare. You were in my blind spot but thankfully I didn't complete my turn and run you over like I did Danny!

Mike...I am so sorry about all the things I have thrown away that were yours. :-) Actually, this is something I'm not too sorry about...you don't even know what those things are...I don't remember either. But be thankful...I have not yet thrown away your favorite T-shirt. I WILL do that someday and I bet you won't even notice that either!

And to all the other people to whom I might owe an apology...I am sorry and I hope that you will forgive me!

Graduation

2008-05-29T09:53:00.001-07:00

Graduation...an end and a beginning. A time in life when one crosses over from one phase to the next, the beginning of another chapter.

Throughout life, there are experiences that force us to grow up. These experiences are not always welcome but necessary. I remember walking her into the school on her first day, feeling her fear and hesitation, wanting to hold her close and never let her go. She cried when I left... begged me to return. I would wait at the end of the hall around the corner where she couldn't see me, praying that the tears would stop. I could hear her pleading, "Mommy, please come back! I want to go with you!" It took all the strength in me not to run into the room, scoop her into my arms and take her with me. Instead, I went to my car and broke down in tears. Was this a necessary exercise? We both had to adjust to independence. She needed to grow and I needed to allow her to do so. I missed her as much as she missed me...maybe more...because I was losing my baby! She was growing up and this was a small preview of what is to come.

Each day became easier for both of us. No longer were our walks down the hall accompanied by tears, begging and dragging feet. Now the halls echoed with singing, laughter and children saying, "Hi, Grace!". Okay, it wasn't always this rosy. Every Monday still brought on some hesitation on Grace's part. I eventually diagnosed it as the Monday Morning Allergy. I explained to her teachers that Grace is allergic to Mondays and should be allowed to lay down every Monday morning until she recovers from it. Amazingly, the allergy would clear up after about 15 minutes of rest. There were also times when she refused to walk down the hall to the classroom. A big thanks to the Parenting with Love and Logic techniques...I would offer her a choice, "Do you want to skip backwards or forwards down the hall to your classroom?" She would always choose backwards so every day since that time, she skipped backwards down the hall, holding my hand.

It has been awesome to witness the changes in Grace academically, emotionally, and socially over the past three years. At three, she could barely sound out a word. Now, she is reading books to me! Hearing your child read for the first time is an incredible, amazing experience. At three and four, she was learning to count...now she's multiplying and dividing! She's only six! At three, she was playing independently, spending most of her recess on the swing or digging in the sand, not seeming to notice or care about the children around her. Now, talk of her day always involves her best friends: Kennedy, Brandi and Brooke. At three, she was shy, uncomfortable around other children and adults, didn't want people looking at her or laughing at anything she said. The other day, she showed everyone her "graduation dance", wiggling her little body all over the place, moving her arms back and forth without an embarrassed bone in her body! I am so proud of the changes I see, so proud of the girl she is and so proud of the young woman I know she will become.

Graduation day...her flowered dress, white sandals, blonde hair with a braid down the back, big blue eyes, black graduation cap affixed firmly on her head, big smile, head up high, walking down the aisle to the front of the church. Grace usually shies away from having her picture taken but today, she offered a warm smile to anyone who held a camera in front of her. She seemed to feel some pride in her accomplishments. Maybe that is me assigning feelings to the day...she was most likely just really glad that it was the last day of school! But I recognize the difference in her, how she has grown, the confidence she now possesses.

So, now she enters this new chapter of her life and leaves the last one behind. We move on toward our march to independence, hers and mine. I am sure we will continue this mother-daughter dance of me pulling her close and letting her go until, little by little, she learns to dance on her own.

My Wish

2008-05-23T09:36:00.000-07:00

I was getting really good about posting...blogging...but this past week it has been hard to find the time to just sit down for a couple of minutes. Also, I spent about 45 minutes writing the other day and lost everything! That was a little disheartening...I liked what I was writing and then...gone! Ughhhhh! I needed a little time away from that experience.

I was trying to figure out how to add a song to my blog. I will figure it out eventually but the song I wanted to add is My Wish by Rascal Flatts. There might not be music but I will post the lyrics and you all can just add your own music! This long distance dedication goes out to all of my family and friends and to anyone else who might come across this blog...

My Wish

by Rascal Flatts

I hope that days come easy and moments pass slow

And each road leads you where you want to go

And if you're faced with a choice and you have to choose

I hope you choose the one that means the most to you

And if one door opens to another door closed

I hope you keep on walkin' till you find the window

If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile

More then anything, more then anything

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to

Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small

You never need to carry more then you can hold

And while you're out there getting where you're getting to

I hope you know somebody loves you

and wants the same things too

Yeah, this, is my wish

I hope you never look back, but ya never forget

All the ones who love you, in the place you left

I hope you always forgive, and you never regret

And you help somebody every chance you get

Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake

And you always give more then you take

Oh More then anything, Yeah, and more then anything

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to

Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small

You never need to carry more then you can hold

And while you're out there getting where you're getting to

I hope you know somebody loves you

And wants the same things too,Yeah, this, is my wish.

How We Began...

2008-05-17T15:48:00.000-07:00

Mike and I have been together for over 18 years, since I was 19 years old. And tomorrow (May 18th) is our 12th wedding anniversary. Happy anniversary, Mike! We have a theory about why we ended up together. This might sound strange but we joke that it was because of my feet. I will explain but will first give you a little history.

I grew up in Carrollton subdivision, a well maintained, safe, middle class neighborhood in Bridgeton on the corner of Latham and Selwyn. Mike lived on Selwyn, about 15 houses or so away from mine. Most of my childhood memories are of my time spent playing in and exploring this neighborhood. I remember riding my bike up the street by his house. It would be up his street I would go every Halloween when we went trick or treating. I probably even tried to sell Girl Scout cookies at his door. I played...or watched my teammates play...soccer (this wasn't my forte) with his sister (Hi, Chrissy!). Even though we lived so close, for some reason our paths did not cross directly until much later in our lives.

Mike and I went to different schools. He is an alumni of the local Catholic grade school. I...the product of the public school system. We were (are) two years apart in age, had a different group of friends, lived separate lives yet shared a street.

Little by little, I learned who Mike was. It just so happened that a friend of my sisters, an across-the-street neighbor, had a crush on him. She and my sister would walk up the street, by his house to possibly get a look at him and, if they were lucky, maybe they could strike up a conversation. Instead they were met by an impish, immature boy concerned only with his territory, intolerant of intruders. They were quite disappointed when he threw rocks at them, called them names and yelled at them to go to "their end of the street".

Still, as the years marched on, I didn't really know him...I knew OF him: His bad boy reputation, his athletic ability, "the hottie with the body". I saw him drive...speed...up and down the street. I would think, "What a jerk!" but I was still intrigued. We were in two separate leagues. He represented fast...I felt more comfortable with slow. He was athletic, handsome, and confident. I was skinny, awkward, uncomfortable in my own skin. Never did I imagine that we would ever meet...let alone be married...have children.

During my high school years, as is typical of that stage of development, I was trying to discover who I was. I experimented with my appearance...my hair, my clothes, the music to which I listened. I am sure some of you remember my hair...eight inches tall, teased out like a lion's mane. The music I loved...The Alarm, U2, The Cure, The Clash...or was it Beastie Boys and Bobby Brown. That depended on the year...day...my friends. By day I was on honor roll, captain of the cross country team, on Student Council. By night I was either working, driving around looking for something exciting to do, and I "partied" probably more than I should have. I wanted to be an "individual". Isn't this the goal of every teenager...to fit in by being "an individual"? The irony makes me laugh!

So through this quest for self, one of the ways I chose to express my individuality was by going barefoot. I felt that my bare feet on the pavement, concrete, carpet, or convenient store floor (yuk!) was freeing. I loved to feel my feet against the ground instead of constricted by a pair of shoes. Some kids dye their hair green...I just didn't wear shoes. Remember also, I was a runner...Zola Bud was an inspiration. I went barefoot EVERYWHERE unless I absolutely had to put something on my feet.

You might be wondering what my feet have to do with meeting Mike. I guess there is one important piece of information you need to know. Mike loves feet! I am not sure when or where this fetish began but, as we joke, if it wasn't for his foot fetish, we might never have met.

Until one summer day in 1989, Mike's life ran parallel to mine, never touching directly. Eventually the day arrived...the day we would meet. My sister invited me to go to her friend, Steve's, softball game. Of course I would go...I loved Steve...and watching all of the guys in their tight pants! Hey, I was 19! So there we were, sitting on the bench, watching "the game". And I, of course, was shoeless. I vividly remember Mike walking over to the stands to get something out of his bag...I threw a piece of ice at him and smiled. (I admit...I was a flirt) You have to imagine this next part in slow motion. He slowly turned around to determine who threw the ice at him...He looked over...saw me...saw my feet... (Do you hear the trumpets? Do you see the bright light surrounding the two of us? Do you hear the choir singing?) Okay, I am being a bit dramatic...but he did remember my "cute feet", as he calls them.

Of course, there are many more chapters to the Mike and Laura story...that is just how it begins. The rest of the book would evoke every emotion...love, anger, excitement, sadness, suspense, confusion, peace, comfort and joy. We've lived it for 18 years....we will most likely live it for 18 more...unless he finds someone with cuter feet than mine!

Ryan

2008-05-14T12:34:00.001-07:00

I have to share more about my children. I know...I should probably focus on something else...you can tell that they are my life! But since they are my life and are important to me, I have to include them.

Since I started blogging, my children, Ryan especially, has been interested in what I am writing. He liked my "One of the best dates ever" post because it was about him. Then I wrote about Grace and included pictures of her. Since that time, Ryan has been trying to figure out how to get me to write more about him. So, he tries to say funny things and shortly thereafter asks if I am going to put "that" on my blog. You might realize that when children TRY to be funny, they are not always...it's those moments when they are not trying to be funny that they are the most endearing!

So, at the moment I cannot think of one event that stands out in my mind about Ryan...there are so many things he does and says that make me laugh on a daily basis. But for the sake of getting his picture on here, which he keeps asking me to do, I am posting these.

We took a trip a couple of weeks ago to see my dad. We always have a great time when we're there. Ryan loves it because he gets to do all of those fun boy things...he goes fishing, four wheeling and occasionally my dad will take him to the airport to play around in the planes. He loves it! We didn't get to see the planes this time but we had fun doing the other things.

Anyway, here are the pictures from our trip.

Nathan

2008-05-13T18:16:00.000-07:00

I realize I haven't written yet about the newest member of our family...Nathan! My little gift from God. I actually think that all of my children are gifts from God but that is actually what Nathan means...that's why we named him that! So, here he is....constantly smiling since he could smile...easy to please...happy go lucky. Of course he does have those one-year-old negative behaviors. When he doesn't get his way, he opens his eyes and his mouth really wide, locks his arms...outstretched, hands open...and screams at the top of his lungs. It's hard not to laugh! If you get close enough you might get whacked across the face. These behaviors are easily dealt with by giving him a one minute time out...he now knows what time out is and I can just warn him. In fact, when I ask him if he needs a time out, he stops what he is doing and sits down on the floor...he's a very smart kid.

Nathan is an excellent dancer. This is something I wish I could get a picture of but since I don't have one right now you will have to just picture it. He clasps his hands together and lifts his elbows out to the side. As he stomps his one foot, his shoulders move back and forth and he moves his elbow up and down. It is soooooo adorable!

He is not saying much right now but is able to communicate what he wants in short syllables. Da is down or dog...dada is daddy...mama could be me, milk or grandma or just about anything else he wants.

The most exciting thing for him is his...well, you know. He found "it" and whenever it is bath time and sometimes during a diaper change he reaches down, touches himself and giggles. Do boys ever change??? Once they find it, they never let it go!

I know this is probably boring for all of you but moms love to brag about their children. Another thing I love is when Nathan blows and catches kisses. When I ask him to blow me a kiss, he puts his hand against his mouth, blows and slobbers into his hand and throws one to me. I then pretend to catch it in the air and place in on my cheek. Then, when I blow a kiss back to him, he slaps himself on the back of his head and smiles.

There are so many other cute things he does...like carries Grace's lunch box around the house waving and saying "ba" to everyone, or how he loves to play with baseball hats and tries to put them on his head, or how he pretends not to hear me when I tell him to stop doing/touching something...he moves his eyes to look my way, gets a mischievous grin on his face but will not turn his head (and will not stop what he is doing). Of course if I come near, he has to run in the opposite direction, laugh and throw whatever is in his hands. He thinks it hilarious.

Life was good before Nathan came into our lives but it is so much better now. I cannot imagine life without him.

2008-05-10T13:27:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthmother's Day. I didn't even know there was such a thing. At first, I thought this was probably Hallmark's attempt at making more money but then I did some research and apparently it was the idea of a group of birthmothers. During my research I found some differing points of view about this celebration. One birthmother in particular was offended by having a separate day. After all, was she any less of a mother just because she wasn't parenting? She felt she made a huge sacrifice because of her love for her child and that is what mother's do. I haven't yet formulated an opinion on the subject. I was perfectly fine recognizing my son's birthmother on Mother's Day...I guess I will have to ask her about it. If she has a preference then that is what really matters.

So, what is it that Mother's want to do on Mother's Day? "Nothing" seems to be the preference of many people I know. A break...that's what mothers need! I just saw yesterday on Fox and Friends that if mothers were paid a salary, they should be earning $117,000 per year! Wouldn't that be nice??? Instead, the pay isn't great, the work is hard, but the reward is invaluable.

Anyway, my "break" will probably have to come another day. I will be parenting solo on Mother's Day since Mike is out of town. But this is also a good thing...quality time spent just with the Ryan, Grace and Nathan. I usually get the best gifts...handmade cards, lots of hugs and kisses, a little extra TLC...my children are the greatest! And, of course, I am looking forward to spending time with my mom. No matter how old you are, you always need your mom! I don't know what I would do without her.

2008-05-09T11:51:00.000-07:00

Ahhhhh...it's so nice to be able to sit down in front of this computer. It would be nice if my computer wrote back to me. A dialog is much more enjoyable but this is the next best thing.

I can't wait until the end of the school year! This past year has been a challenge to say the least. On a daily basis, I get up at 5:30 a.m., get myself and three children ready and out the door by 7:30 a.m. Nathan goes to mom's and I take Grace to school. I work at her school every morning, opening the door for all of the children and cleaning/mopping one of the classrooms. (I'll do anything to save a little money...Well...almost anything.) But my work at the school makes a Montessori tuition a little more affordable. Also to that end, I wash the floors every Friday. I prefer going on Friday nights. That way no one is there...talking to me...interrupting my work. But more importantly, it leaves me alone with my thoughts...helps me work things out internally. And sometimes when I am in a really good mood, I will turn the radio on and up, sing, and pretend the mop is my dance partner. :-) Gosh, I hope no one has ever seen me do that! So, I guess I get something out of this work that I do but I am still sooooooo looking forward to being free!!!!

Another challenge I faced this year was homeschooling Ryan. I truly LOVED homeschooling! The best part was that I was learning things all over again. But between doing lesson plans, grading papers, working 30+ hours a week, and the 7 or so hours a week at Grace's school, the homeschooling was a bit much. I don't know what I would have done without my mom! Mom, if you are reading this, you are truly a Godsend. Unfortunately, I spread myself a little too thin and the homeschooling was not working out. I don't know what it is about me but I tend to do too much...bite off more than I can chew. I am learning...always a work in progress. Ryan has been going to school for the past three/four weeks and he loves it, which is a huge relief to me.

The most wonderful "challenge" this year has been our decision to adopt a child. As some know, Mike and I couldn't have more children, although our dream was to have three or four. But we made our peace with the cards life dealt and moved on. Then this wonderful gift fell into our laps. This is hard for me to say...he was a gift to us but in order to be given this gift, someone else had to lose. I struggle with this and hope that as Nathan grows I can help him to understand how special he is...how his life has purpose and meaning...how much he is loved by all of the people in his life, including those who brought him into the world. As someone who specializes in adoption and understands...or so I think...how adoption can affect an adoptee's life, I hope that I will have the tools to help him form a positive identity. Knowledge can be power...but ignorance can be bliss.

I look back to a few months ago when all of these things were coming together like a gathering storm...the stress of getting up early, taking care of children, homeschooling, adjusting to the addition of a child, work...Now we are swinging to the other end of life's pendulum and thankfully so. But I also see the value of the "struggle" of life. The stars are always in the sky but you can't see them until the dark of night.

The Prayer (Josh Groban)

2008-05-08T19:08:00.000-07:00

I pray you'll be our eyes
And watch us where we go
And help us to be wise
In times when we don't know

Let this be our prayer
As we go our way
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your Grace
To a place where we'll be safe

La luce che to daiI
pray we'll find your light
Nel cuore restero
And hold it in our hearts
A ricordarchi che
When stars go out each night
L'eterna stella sei

Nella mia preghiera
Let this be our prayer
Quanta fede c'e
When shadows fill our day
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe.

Sognamo un mondo senza piu violenza
Un mondo di giustizia e di speranza
Ognuno dia la mano al suo vicino
Simbolo di pace e di fraternita
La forza che ci dai

We ask that life be kind
E'il desiderio che
And watch us from above
Ognuno trovi amore
We hope each soul will find
Intorno e dentro a se
Another soul to love

Let this be our prayer
Let this be our prayer
Just like every child
Just like every child
Needs to find a place,
Guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe
E la fede cheHai acceso in noi
Sento che ci salvera

Amazing Grace

2008-05-05T15:30:00.000-07:00

This is my daughter. She is 6 and a little ray of sunshine...unless she's hungry...then she's more like a thunderstorm. But feed her and the sun comes out again! Sometimes I look at my children and wonder if we would be friends if we were the same age. I definitely would want to be Grace's friend! She is fun, funny, full of life and laughter, sarcastic, witty, and charming...a lot like me! (Just kidding!)

Occasionally Grace decides that she would like to be someone else. This desire usually occurs when that someone else is getting to do something that she wants to do. Suddenly the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence. So, the other day, I told Grace she had to go to bed. True to form, she said, "I wish I was you. Then I could stay up as late I want." I pointed out to her that if she was me she would have to do laundry and dishes, go to work, etc. She thought about this for a minute and then said, "Okay, I wish I was daddy."

Opening Jars

2008-05-04T12:52:00.000-07:00

I mowed the lawn yesterday. Of course I had some help...I hate that I can't start the lawn mower on my own! Mike always has to get it going the first time and then I can usually do it after that. It's really embarrassing when I want to mow the lawn when he's not at home, like during the week when I am off work. I just hope and pray that no one is watching me! For those of you who know me, you can imagine how ridiculous I must look...a little 103 pound woman trying to pull that string over and over...I feel like a kid! :-) But once I get it started, I feel a little proud of myself that I actually did it.

There is something inside of me that always believes I can do anything if I try hard enough. As I was mowing the lawn and humming the song, "Welcome to the Jungle", (the grass was VERY long) I was analyzing this feeling I have...like I am capable of most things. Where did that come from? I am constantly trying to figure out where my feelings "come from". But I think I figured it out, at least partially. It had to do with my dad and opening jars.

When I was a little girl, I had a gift...or I believed I had a gift...of opening jars. It didn't matter how difficult they were to open...I could do it! I proved it all the time at the dinner table. My mom would bring the food to the table and inevitably there would be a jar of something. She would give it to my dad to open and he would try and try and couldn't ever make them budge. So he would ask me. Amazingly, I could do it! Sometimes he would even pass the jar around to my older sisters so they could attempt to open it. Eventually it would get to me and due to my brute strength the jar would open. The family was always wowed by my ability and I was so proud of myself. I would smile from ear to ear and each day at the dinner table I would offer to open the jars.

It's embarrassing to say that it wasn't until much later in my life that I realized what my dad was doing. I know now that he was loosening them up and pretending not to be able to open them and that my sisters must have been in on this deception. But I am thankful for this experience because that feeling of pride in my accomplishments is now a part of me. I want to be able to open that jar that no one else can open. I love the feeling of achieving something that is difficult...even something as simple...but difficult for me...like starting a lawn mower.

One of the best dates ever...

2008-05-03T06:27:00.000-07:00

It actually happened a couple of weeks ago when Mike was out of town. I probably should feel guilty about spending so much quality time with someone else and allowing myself to feel the way I do, but for some reason, this is not the case.

As I said, Mike was out of town so me and this "other guy" decided to spend the evening together. Our plans were simple...just a quiet evening at home, a movie, good conversation...we just wanted to be together.

Our evening began with a trip to the movie store. As we searched through the movies we commented about the various movies we had seen, shared lines from our favorite shows, reminisced about past features watched. It was fun...just being close...comfortable. There's a special warmth that is felt being with someone whom you know loves you so unconditionally as I know this other guy loves me. After browsing through the aisles, we finally made our selection and decided to make our way back to my house.

The rest of the evening was just as special as the time already spent. We snuggled under my favorite blanket...the soft, leopard print one that lays on my couch for those times when the clothes on my back are not enough to keep me warm. We sat with our legs entwined sharing a movie, a bowl of popcorn and mutual admiration.

The movie ended, it was getting late. I did something I wouldn't normally do. I asked him if he wanted to sleep next to me in my bed. He was happy to do so. As I was turning off the lights and preparing for bed, he was thinking of me. He filled a glass of water, which he knows I keep on the small dresser beside the bed. He turned down the covers, fluffed the pillow and made room for me. After retiring, he hugged me close and told me how much he loved me. He said I was the best "in the whole world". We volleyed back and forth expressions of love and admiration with me finally telling him that in whatever way he loves me, I love him "plus one". Then he turned his back to mine, moved close so he could feel me next to him and fell asleep.

So, who was this "other guy" with whom I shared an evening, my love, my bed? It was my son, Ryan. One of the best dates ever....

Becoming Foreground

2008-04-30T19:04:00.001-07:00

I was having this conversation with a friend the other day about my younger years and the things I would do as a teenager. One thing that stands out in my mind was the way I interacted with people...bold, without fear, loving the excitement of meeting new people, doing the unexpected, not caring if people thought I was silly...I found ways to become someone's foreground and to bring them into mine.

Think about what happens when you walk from your house to your car in the morning. Are you thinking about where you are going, work, what you will be doing that day? Imagine the background that you do not pay attention to? Have you ever brought those things into the foreground instead of leaving them in the background? Think about the sounds, the smells, the things you might see if you really paid attention and experienced the background....making it foreground

But what is most important in this life? I believe it is people and our relationships with them! When you are at a baseball game, do you pay attention to the 40 something year old man, slightly graying, wearing red like everyone else...or the 50 year old woman with a little too much around the middle? Have you ever really LOOKED at these people...wondered about their lives...thought about the gifts that they bring to someone else's lives...considered that they might be heros or loners or creative thinkers or geniouses or former athletes or veterens...moms and dads, grandparents, sisters, brothers...etc? Do you pay attention to the hundreds of people you come in contact with, although indirectly, on a daily basis? What about the driver in the car next to you on your way to work? Or the construction worker that you pass holding the sign allowing you to go or telling you to stop?

What would happen if you made any one of these people part of your foreground instead of your background? Could you change the course of their lives? What if you smiled at the person in the car next to you? Sure, they might make assumptions about your intentions, but what if they were contemplating suicide or simply had a bad day? Would your smile make them change their focus? Would they go home in a better mood and spend some quality time with their children? Maybe they work a little harder to be a better person. You would be the pebble that fell into their still waters...creating ripples in their lives that would then affect others in a positive way.