I just returned from a whirlwind weekend to southern Minnesota for a wedding reception. The bride was my flower girl 18 years ago and her mom is one of my cousins. The reception was in the town where she now calls home with her new husband on his family's farm. Both sides of my family is packed with cousins and I have fond memories of trips back to Illinois for holidays and vacation.
This was a fun time. We got to visit, share how much kids have grown, and even dance until our feet couldn't dance anymore. And then some more. Seeing kids dance, especially my four year old nephew, brought back memories of previous family events when I was one of the kids. Usually there was a kids place to eat, games that we would play, and cameras snapping moments in time.
Both of my grandfathers passed away when I was young, so most of my grandparent memories involve my grandmothers. They both treated family as something important. They both explained away most of my behavior as "just a stage". They could cook up a storm and feed a multitude that would make even Jesus jealous.
Even though we moved away from Illinois when I was seven, we still found a way to journey back there at least every summer. We would gather for picnics and I remember trying to find a breeze to fly a kite, and then try to find the kite after the wind took it away. We rode horses on the farm where my dad grew up. I remember having ham, green beans and real mashed potatoes at one grandma's house and having potato soup, oyster stew, and fresh sweet corn with the other side of the family.
One of my favorite things that our extended family did when I was in college was to decide that both sides of my family (most live within an hour of each other and we finally lived close enough to come back for short trips) would all meet at the church where my parents got married and share Thanksgiving. It was a double family reunion. Those few years are something I will always cherish. The last Thanksgiving we had up there was when my maternal grandmother was in hospice. We had to postpone Thanksgiving and she died the next day. I remember going to a small gathering with my dad's family that night. My paternal grandmother took my mom aside and cared for her grieving daughter-in-law. Little did we know we would lose that grandmother six months later. I am so grateful to have grown up in a family full of love from both sides and know that has sustained us even when the pain was great.
I am hoping next summer to travel back to Illinois with my monkeys and show them the places that are full of memories. They will meet my aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. I'm hopeful they will get to play with a new generation of cousins that will soon become friends. And I know that when times are hard, my family reach is farther than those in just my household.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Gigibug
August 21, 2000 marked the first day I became face to face with motherhood. My oldest was born and I remember sitting in the hospital room and talking with my brand new little girl. She came out with spunk and ready to go. That hasn't changed in 14 years.
I have seen her share a smile with someone having a bad day, reach out as a friend to the friendless, and have a heart for missions. She may have hit the teen years and rolls her eyes when saying hello, but the core of her is still good as gold.
And I know there are going to be more days that we count the quality of time and not the quantity of time spent together. In the new few days she gets her learner's permit. I think that the new two years will fly by and all I will see of her some days is her taillights. And she's already planning out her college career. I am so proud of her, yet for a moment I wish we were back to the days where she was in her baby backpack and we didn't go too far from one another. Those are the moments I can hold in my heart no matter where she is at.
Happy Birthday, Gretchen! I love you and am so proud to be your mom!
I have seen her share a smile with someone having a bad day, reach out as a friend to the friendless, and have a heart for missions. She may have hit the teen years and rolls her eyes when saying hello, but the core of her is still good as gold.
And I know there are going to be more days that we count the quality of time and not the quantity of time spent together. In the new few days she gets her learner's permit. I think that the new two years will fly by and all I will see of her some days is her taillights. And she's already planning out her college career. I am so proud of her, yet for a moment I wish we were back to the days where she was in her baby backpack and we didn't go too far from one another. Those are the moments I can hold in my heart no matter where she is at.
Happy Birthday, Gretchen! I love you and am so proud to be your mom!
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Hope is a dangerous thing
In Shawshank Redemption, Red tells Andy that hope is a dangerous thing. Red was referring to hoping while behind bars, but I believe that hope is a dangerous thing in that it has the power to help us look past the moment we might be in. We hope for great things and even not so great things.
When I was in elementary school we had a night when the power went out around 7:00 p.m. I happened to be upstairs and the family was downstairs. It was pitch black and I was afraid to move. I called out and then heard my mother's voice assuring me it would be alright. Soon she shone a flashlight up the staircase and it illuminated the hallway. I could see my way out. In that split second when darkness was dispelled by light, I felt hope. We still didn't have power, in fact our whole block was without power, but I felt hope. The fear I had was gone. Hope having the power to dispell fear is a dangerous thing.
When I was in seminary I went through another dark time. It was at the end of my first year and there was a lot that had happened. I had a lot of soul searching to do. A part of me wasn't sure I would be back for a second year yet I felt called to go on a mission trip to Kenya. I didn't know why I needed to go. It was difficult to raise funds but I felt that strong push to go yet as I sat on the opposite side of the world I could finally let go of some of the struggles and hurts that had held on to me. God was able to remind me that He was God and I was under his protection. I remember the day clearly that it started to make sense - August 8, 1994 (20 years ago this month!) and as I sat watching the sunrise come up over the Nakuru Crater I realized that again there was a light shining through the darkness. I stepped away from my fears and returned to seminary that fall hopeful for what was ahead.
While people may know me now and think how this was just a blip in my life, consider this - a new student named Carl Palmer didn't arrive at school until September 1994 and I didn't really meet him until February 1995. While I may have ended up back in Fayetteville my life would not be the same. I wouldn't have the hope that I have now. Yes, hope is a dangerous thing and I love living a hopefully dangerous life!
When I was in elementary school we had a night when the power went out around 7:00 p.m. I happened to be upstairs and the family was downstairs. It was pitch black and I was afraid to move. I called out and then heard my mother's voice assuring me it would be alright. Soon she shone a flashlight up the staircase and it illuminated the hallway. I could see my way out. In that split second when darkness was dispelled by light, I felt hope. We still didn't have power, in fact our whole block was without power, but I felt hope. The fear I had was gone. Hope having the power to dispell fear is a dangerous thing.
When I was in seminary I went through another dark time. It was at the end of my first year and there was a lot that had happened. I had a lot of soul searching to do. A part of me wasn't sure I would be back for a second year yet I felt called to go on a mission trip to Kenya. I didn't know why I needed to go. It was difficult to raise funds but I felt that strong push to go yet as I sat on the opposite side of the world I could finally let go of some of the struggles and hurts that had held on to me. God was able to remind me that He was God and I was under his protection. I remember the day clearly that it started to make sense - August 8, 1994 (20 years ago this month!) and as I sat watching the sunrise come up over the Nakuru Crater I realized that again there was a light shining through the darkness. I stepped away from my fears and returned to seminary that fall hopeful for what was ahead.
While people may know me now and think how this was just a blip in my life, consider this - a new student named Carl Palmer didn't arrive at school until September 1994 and I didn't really meet him until February 1995. While I may have ended up back in Fayetteville my life would not be the same. I wouldn't have the hope that I have now. Yes, hope is a dangerous thing and I love living a hopefully dangerous life!
Monday, August 18, 2014
Firsts
So today the alarm clocks rang and the children sprang out of bed for the first day of school. Some faster than others. I will admit that my mind thought that the alarm clock wasn't for me (my teenager had changed the radio station, so that was part of the confusion.)
After breakfast, and a few reminders to put on shoes, the children lined up on the porch to take the obligatory first day of school photos. As they lined up my 10 year old pointed out that this year their grades match the ages they all were when we moved into one roof together. See my oldest two daughters are my biological children (Yes, that is right term. If I say they are my real children, then people think I imagined the other three.) and the younger three are a sibling group that we fostered and then adopted. In 2009 as we started the school year we had 9, 6, 5, 3 and 2 year old children. We packed some of the same school supplies today, but thankfully none of them needed a diaper bag and they all can speak in full sentences as they go to 9th, 6th, 4th, 3rd and 2nd grades.
Today went well at school. We have a few minor things to sort out for the 9th grader's schedule. The 6th grader is relieved to know that she can work her locker combination. The 5th grader really likes rotating between 3 teachers (I wasn't sure she would like it, so this is great!) The 3rd grader got excited at the thought that every day would be like today. I had to burst her bubble that there would be work on other days. She's still excited. And the 2nd grader got a glowing review from his teacher. This is HUGE. All in all, it was a good day.
I remember other firsts. On Thursday, my oldest will turn 14. I remember that first day in the hospital staring at this little, feisty girl. There were moments of joy and moments where I felt overwhelmed. It was part reality and part pregnancy hormones. Sometimes they happened all at once. I am so grateful for those who helped me on my beginning steps of motherhood.
The first time I saw my second daughter was not as joyous and was much more scary. I was in a dark recovery room and she was less than 2 1/2 pounds. I was very sick with preeclampsia and she had to be delivered at 30 weeks. They briefly wheeled her through the recovery room so I could see her before she was hooked up to tubes and monitors in the NICU. Again, people showed up to cheer me on and give me a shoulder to cry on. The first time I held her she smiled. Big, genuine, smile.
Five years ago I didn't think I could juggle everything when I went from two to five kidlets. I was worried about keeping track of who needed what and when they needed it. Trying to keep track of teacher's names and schedules made my brain spin. Of course there were so many who jumped in with gifts of clothing, food, encouragement and laughter and we made it through.
Today seemed much more doable. We got to share around the table about how our day went. I still get those moments of joy and moments of feeling overwhelmed. Mainly due to reality now and not pregnancy hormones. In a few years, the firsts won't happen on my front porch. We are already hearing college talk from the 9th grader and others are starting to dream about what they want to be when they grow up. But first things first, today was a good day and I hope the same for tomorrow when we go for seconds.
After breakfast, and a few reminders to put on shoes, the children lined up on the porch to take the obligatory first day of school photos. As they lined up my 10 year old pointed out that this year their grades match the ages they all were when we moved into one roof together. See my oldest two daughters are my biological children (Yes, that is right term. If I say they are my real children, then people think I imagined the other three.) and the younger three are a sibling group that we fostered and then adopted. In 2009 as we started the school year we had 9, 6, 5, 3 and 2 year old children. We packed some of the same school supplies today, but thankfully none of them needed a diaper bag and they all can speak in full sentences as they go to 9th, 6th, 4th, 3rd and 2nd grades.
Today went well at school. We have a few minor things to sort out for the 9th grader's schedule. The 6th grader is relieved to know that she can work her locker combination. The 5th grader really likes rotating between 3 teachers (I wasn't sure she would like it, so this is great!) The 3rd grader got excited at the thought that every day would be like today. I had to burst her bubble that there would be work on other days. She's still excited. And the 2nd grader got a glowing review from his teacher. This is HUGE. All in all, it was a good day.
I remember other firsts. On Thursday, my oldest will turn 14. I remember that first day in the hospital staring at this little, feisty girl. There were moments of joy and moments where I felt overwhelmed. It was part reality and part pregnancy hormones. Sometimes they happened all at once. I am so grateful for those who helped me on my beginning steps of motherhood.
The first time I saw my second daughter was not as joyous and was much more scary. I was in a dark recovery room and she was less than 2 1/2 pounds. I was very sick with preeclampsia and she had to be delivered at 30 weeks. They briefly wheeled her through the recovery room so I could see her before she was hooked up to tubes and monitors in the NICU. Again, people showed up to cheer me on and give me a shoulder to cry on. The first time I held her she smiled. Big, genuine, smile.
Five years ago I didn't think I could juggle everything when I went from two to five kidlets. I was worried about keeping track of who needed what and when they needed it. Trying to keep track of teacher's names and schedules made my brain spin. Of course there were so many who jumped in with gifts of clothing, food, encouragement and laughter and we made it through.
Today seemed much more doable. We got to share around the table about how our day went. I still get those moments of joy and moments of feeling overwhelmed. Mainly due to reality now and not pregnancy hormones. In a few years, the firsts won't happen on my front porch. We are already hearing college talk from the 9th grader and others are starting to dream about what they want to be when they grow up. But first things first, today was a good day and I hope the same for tomorrow when we go for seconds.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
The Buddy System
When I am directing camp and leading kids mission trips we have the buddy system. Even when it is just me and my kids, they have to have the buddy system. Sometimes kids don't mind. It is fun to pair up with someone for a game but then there are times in the middle of something exciting when your buddy needs to go to the bathroom. The true test of the buddy system is when someone is willing to go with the one who needs to go.
I get reminded of the need for even us big kids to have a buddy system. Life is harder if we go it alone. Yes, it is always more fun to go on an adventure with a friend, but the true commitment is when someone is there is the rough times. It's the buddy system at its best when we are at our worst. The friend who sits in a hospital room to lend support. The coworker who gives encouragement instead of criticism. Or a late night run to help someone feel safe. While we may post the pics of our good times with our buddy system, it gets stronger when we feel that we are at our weakest.
So if you feel that life is hard, remember the rules of the buddy system and don't go it alone.
I get reminded of the need for even us big kids to have a buddy system. Life is harder if we go it alone. Yes, it is always more fun to go on an adventure with a friend, but the true commitment is when someone is there is the rough times. It's the buddy system at its best when we are at our worst. The friend who sits in a hospital room to lend support. The coworker who gives encouragement instead of criticism. Or a late night run to help someone feel safe. While we may post the pics of our good times with our buddy system, it gets stronger when we feel that we are at our weakest.
So if you feel that life is hard, remember the rules of the buddy system and don't go it alone.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Stay-at-home?
Believe it or not, this year I am not counting down until the first day of school. Today I'm just enjoying the last few days of summer with the kids. It will be the first year since my oldest started kindergarten that they go off to school and I am home. I am excited for what the school year holds for each of them. I don't expect it to be all smiley faces, but I do feel more calm than I have before. We have school clothes ready, backpacks are packed, bus routes are researched, and we have the last minute paperwork ready to go to the school.
I do find it funny that some of them are wanting to play school this week. Maybe it's like warming up in the batter's cage before a big game? It's just one of those quirky things that I see.
But again, this year I will not be headed to an office after taking the kids to school. This isn't a permanent thing, but for now I am a stay-at-home mom. It is a funny title. I don't know of a parent who stays at home who actually just stays at home. I can honestly say I have yet to eat a bon bon. Shocking but true. We do have organized closets and have found that the children do have floors in their rooms. I am also determined to finish my closet renovation that started several months ago. I help at a friend's store (stop by ReDesign in Springdale across from the convention center for great furniture, home decor, accessories, and more), volunteer, and do lots of laundry. I'm also secretly plotting to redo the living room although I think the first step is for the childen to get a little older and for me to find gold in the backyard. For those who are concerned that I am bored, I am anything but that. My life is full and good.
Yes, this school year will start a little different for me. And that is a good thing. Maybe I'll celebrate by eating a bon bon.
I do find it funny that some of them are wanting to play school this week. Maybe it's like warming up in the batter's cage before a big game? It's just one of those quirky things that I see.
But again, this year I will not be headed to an office after taking the kids to school. This isn't a permanent thing, but for now I am a stay-at-home mom. It is a funny title. I don't know of a parent who stays at home who actually just stays at home. I can honestly say I have yet to eat a bon bon. Shocking but true. We do have organized closets and have found that the children do have floors in their rooms. I am also determined to finish my closet renovation that started several months ago. I help at a friend's store (stop by ReDesign in Springdale across from the convention center for great furniture, home decor, accessories, and more), volunteer, and do lots of laundry. I'm also secretly plotting to redo the living room although I think the first step is for the childen to get a little older and for me to find gold in the backyard. For those who are concerned that I am bored, I am anything but that. My life is full and good.
Yes, this school year will start a little different for me. And that is a good thing. Maybe I'll celebrate by eating a bon bon.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Because I'm the Mom
child: But why do I have to go to bed and you get to stay up?
me: Because I'm the mom. I am <insert any task that needs to be done> and I need you to go to bed.
child: But why do you get to decide where we go?
me: Because I'm the mom.
child: But why do you care what happens?
me: Because I'm the mom.
Tonight at supper my husband said something goofy and our youngest daughter said, "You really are Mom's 6th kid." with a dry, matter-of-fact humor. Yes, I am technically the mom to 5 minors plus 1 adult male. It's a crazy, fulfilling, exhausting life. I routinely try to not pull my hair out at some of the things that happen or laugh when a child unknowingly says something funny. I think that while we cherish the sweet things, we truly grow through the rough patches. We are working through one of those with our son. He did not have the best start with his birth family and bounced through foster care so he has some behavioral issues. Lately we can have some great days but he struggles to go to sleep. It is when he becomes irrational that my sense of humor can be my survival guide. The past few nights he has tried a variety of things to not go to sleep (and I am grateful that once he is asleep, he stays asleep - we didn't always have that blessing.) He will insist on needing to go to the bathroom again, complain about his blankets, but then he will get frustrated and say "I really just want to shave my legs." Just to clarify, he has never shaved his legs or had them shaved for him. My husband fights with his facial hair enough that he would never have time to shave his own legs, so this is where we completely know that he is making a last ditch effort to avoid sleep. My random mind goes to the country song that says did I shave my legs for this? which is the wrong reference, yet I sit in my home trying to cling to sanity while he says he wants to shave his legs.
All of the four girls have also had their moments of meltdown and just funny phrases. Having our oldest fall apart over a toy that she wanted when she was in preschool resulted in me saying that she would not get the toy and she needed to deal with it. She cried out I am dealing with it! Since then it is synonymous with how we don't always make the right choices. Our next daughter wanted to ride at an amusement park but thought that they should stop the right after one 360 degree rotation. I done! would come from her mouth. She wasn't panicked. She just said it emphatically. Our oldest red head delights people with her uncanny ability to make animal sounds and other noises. She is a virtual sound machine. The youngest red head will say things that are completely twisted around. When she had long hair and needed to brush the back of it she would say I'm brushing my back hair. She's also allergic to strawberries but was a strawberry blonde in preschool. She would inform people who called her a strawberry blond that I'm allergic to strawberries; I'm a cranberry blonde.
So in my mom journals, I will add I really just need to shave my legs to the list. Oh, and for the oldest kid/husband? My favorite is from our early years as husband and wife. He misunderstood something I said and became very annoyed. I was confused and tried to find out what on earth he was upset about. He thought I was not understanding the depth of whatever he had thought I had done. I finally clarified what I had said and he looked at me dumbfounded and said well, I'm an idiot.
And why do I get to sit back as the kids go to sleep and cherish some of this crazy? Because I'm the mom.
me: Because I'm the mom. I am <insert any task that needs to be done> and I need you to go to bed.
child: But why do you get to decide where we go?
me: Because I'm the mom.
child: But why do you care what happens?
me: Because I'm the mom.
Tonight at supper my husband said something goofy and our youngest daughter said, "You really are Mom's 6th kid." with a dry, matter-of-fact humor. Yes, I am technically the mom to 5 minors plus 1 adult male. It's a crazy, fulfilling, exhausting life. I routinely try to not pull my hair out at some of the things that happen or laugh when a child unknowingly says something funny. I think that while we cherish the sweet things, we truly grow through the rough patches. We are working through one of those with our son. He did not have the best start with his birth family and bounced through foster care so he has some behavioral issues. Lately we can have some great days but he struggles to go to sleep. It is when he becomes irrational that my sense of humor can be my survival guide. The past few nights he has tried a variety of things to not go to sleep (and I am grateful that once he is asleep, he stays asleep - we didn't always have that blessing.) He will insist on needing to go to the bathroom again, complain about his blankets, but then he will get frustrated and say "I really just want to shave my legs." Just to clarify, he has never shaved his legs or had them shaved for him. My husband fights with his facial hair enough that he would never have time to shave his own legs, so this is where we completely know that he is making a last ditch effort to avoid sleep. My random mind goes to the country song that says did I shave my legs for this? which is the wrong reference, yet I sit in my home trying to cling to sanity while he says he wants to shave his legs.
All of the four girls have also had their moments of meltdown and just funny phrases. Having our oldest fall apart over a toy that she wanted when she was in preschool resulted in me saying that she would not get the toy and she needed to deal with it. She cried out I am dealing with it! Since then it is synonymous with how we don't always make the right choices. Our next daughter wanted to ride at an amusement park but thought that they should stop the right after one 360 degree rotation. I done! would come from her mouth. She wasn't panicked. She just said it emphatically. Our oldest red head delights people with her uncanny ability to make animal sounds and other noises. She is a virtual sound machine. The youngest red head will say things that are completely twisted around. When she had long hair and needed to brush the back of it she would say I'm brushing my back hair. She's also allergic to strawberries but was a strawberry blonde in preschool. She would inform people who called her a strawberry blond that I'm allergic to strawberries; I'm a cranberry blonde.
So in my mom journals, I will add I really just need to shave my legs to the list. Oh, and for the oldest kid/husband? My favorite is from our early years as husband and wife. He misunderstood something I said and became very annoyed. I was confused and tried to find out what on earth he was upset about. He thought I was not understanding the depth of whatever he had thought I had done. I finally clarified what I had said and he looked at me dumbfounded and said well, I'm an idiot.
And why do I get to sit back as the kids go to sleep and cherish some of this crazy? Because I'm the mom.
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