My Life is Not A Tidy Story

My kids think I am mean.  When I say this it isn't in a "woe is me" please give me assurances way, but in general observation.  The longer they stay in our home, the more frequently they share their thoughts on my parenting with me.  Often they share when they have strong opinions so with fierce love and equally fierce recognition that I am doing some things totally wrong.

Sometimes it's hard to hear.  It hurts.  Because clearly I'm not trying to suck it up as a mom and rarely have I ever thought of myself as a mean person.  I also never want to quiet their voice and reject their feedback just because it is hard to hear.  And the closer they get to adulthood, the more I want them to be able to as kindly as possible share constructive feedback with their associates and with those whom they have relationships with.

So here is my formal admission, that my life is not a tidy story.  I don't always make the best choices, my words are not always kind and encouraging and supportive.  My kids don't always feel my love and sometimes they suffocate under the weight of my expectations.  I am doing some things wrong, but still I am okay with me.  I know I stand ready to try and try again, tweaking and fine tuning my methods to try and be more Christlike.  My story is not done yet and I am never going to give up.

I love you and so even if my actions aren't tidy in showing you that, let these words give you the hope you need to believe them.

Crap, Crap, Crap

I've never had a car accident.  And I didn't really ever intend to.  I guess no one does which is why it is called an accident.  But, this past week it happened on Friday.  As I was leaving a gas station, I went to turn left.  I looked left and right and knew I was watching for the white, sedan to my right to time my leaving the gas station.  When clear I glanced again and pulled out.  I heard brakes squealing and turned left toward the sound to see in slow motion a car about to hit me.  I closed my eyes, felt the impact, and heard the crunching of metal on metal.  I opened my eyes, still unbelieving.  I had not seen this car, where had it come from.  It was my first question and still the question I have most thought about.  I really had looked and so much of my unease is that I don't know that I can trust myself anymore. 

Another girl in the other car, and myself were both traveling by ourselves.  This is probably for the best.  She was fine and out of the car as I was still observing my surroundings trying to make heads or tails out of what had happened.  It was at this point that I felt warm liquid running down my forehead.  I wondered if it was sweat and then saw the drop land on my lap and the red blood spread outward.  There were other drops already on my pants.  How had I missed that? I reached over to the glove box to pull out napkins and hold against my head.  A man rushed to me door.  The window totally shattered and laying over me (and later in me - we had to pull some small shards out of my skin) was open to his asking if I was okay, telling my to turn off the car, asking if I can get out of the car.  I offer to drive to the side of the road instead of being in the smack dab center worried I may block school traffic which is about to pick up.  He says he doesn't think it will drive as the front will is at an awkward angle.  I turn off the car, realize I can't open the door, and he struggles with it finally creaking it open enough to help me out of the car.  Glass rains to the ground from my front and back.  And I feel some glass shift in my clothing.  We walk to the side of he road as traffic continues around.  The man has already called the police.  They are sending an ambulance and fire as well since I am injured.

I call Travis and everyone starts to arrive.  I verify that I am mainly okay to the EMS and they let me into the back of their truck to undress and pour the glass out of my clothing.  After verifying that both the other girl, Kathryn, and I are okay, they leave.  Fire trucks arrive and start sweeping glass out of the road.  The police ask questions of the witness and each of us drivers.  Travis arrives and takes over as people from surrounding shops bring water, check on us, and offer me Band-Aids.  Once we have settled everything with the police, taken pictures, and followed the towing company, we leave.  Travis drives me home.  I am still in shock that this has happened to me.  More than anything as I was t-boned on the drivers door, I just felt thankful about how great it really did turn out.  I was relatively unscathed.  All the damage, no matter how frustrating, is just stuff.

As I was in my father in law's truck that is the worst of it.  I text them to let them know.  I feel terrible.  My(our) insurance will not cover this, my father in law's must.  He only has liability.  The car is a loss for them.  Uggg. Although my in laws have forgiven me and Gary, when he saw me lovingly and tearfully embraced me saying to not worry about the car, I can't seem to forgive myself.  I feel like I owe them a terrible debt.  Not only of the car, but that would at least easily be remedied if they would let me write them a check.  But alas, I am learning humility.  I am learning to forgive myself.  I am learning to accept the help of others.  I am still a work in progress, but a grateful work in progress.

Sentimental Series Part 1

The Best Friend


Clearly not our prettiest picture - but the perfect one.

On Saturday, I met up with my best friend for what was to be the last time before we moved.  She was back in town for just two days and wanted to meet for breakfast.  She just had a grandbaby and so has and will be out of state helping to take care of her newest grandchild. 

It was a laughter filled morning despite beyond busy schedules and earlier in the day crying jags because of my leaving.  We discussed all the normal stuff which was our lives, food, and anything that will make us laugh.

Despite being old enough to be my mom, Sue has been my best friend for the past 5 years.  Our friendship started a few years before that with a simple act of service.  I brought her dinner while she was healing from hip surgery.  In her post surgical, drug induced state, she invited me to sit on her bed and keep her company, where I laughed at her lack of inhibition.  To this day, she still remembers very little of our conversation.

We since then have constantly bonded through our love of honesty, our laughter at human foibles, and the sheer crazy brilliance of our spouses, who we adore, but sometimes make us bonkers.

Sue and her husband have a business in our town.  Their business is one of the lifeblood’s of Manheim and they sponsor every team and every club, donating to everyone who may need it.  This isn’t what makes her so amazing though.  Sue is special because she is one of the most selfless people I know.  She takes care of everyone around her constantly.  She is endlessly loyal.  She is empathetic and sensitive, kind and compassionate.  She'll be your biggest champion and your greatest friend.

She’s who I call when I need to talk to someone and it helps that she’s my late night buddy.  She doesn’t sleep much which makes her an ideal companion to my limited sleeping habits too.  More often my random thought texted to her after midnight is answered within seconds.  And just this morning I started getting texts at 6.  I will miss seeing her for lunch and breakfast anytime we can sneak it into our schedule.

So I’m beyond excited we found one more day and a half mid July to sneak away together before I move, that we have a loose time frame for her first visit to Texas and I plan to return often to see her.  Love you Suzie, Q.

Less Often Used Words

I'm not sure.  It's not something I feel, think or say super often.  I'll be the first to admit if I don't know something but even more often I'll look it up as soon as I realize I don't know it.  It's definitely not something I feel a lot.  I tend to steamroll into things, having planned, prepared, and thought it out ahead of time and so I rush full steam making the best of whatever life and the situation brings with no regrets and backwards glances.  Life is too short for second guessing and questioning your own judgment.

But today, I'm not sure.  I'm not sure I know how to grieve.  I'm not sure if there is a proper way.  I know there are 5 stages and even on the first night, my daughter read them from her newly acquired Christmas gift smart phone to me, informing me I'm already on Stage 4.  You see denial seems pointless to me and I did have time to prepare, anger is not something I like to embrace - so I think I spent a good 10 minutes being angry, moved quickly to bargaining and jumped right over it as it didn't seem useful to me either.  I'm not looking to change what happened, so here I am at depression?  Is that right?  Am I depressed?  Well I don't have the normal signs.  I can function for my kids, my husband, I'm sleeping fine'ish'.  Not as great as normal, but I'm an expert sleeper so no other human would look at my sleep and be worried. 

You see I'm sad because one of our foster kids went back to his bio mom.  And despite doing this more than a half dozen times already, this time it's totally different. I'm not sure if it was because he was a baby versus an older child, you see he was my first baby to foster.  I picked him up from the hospital.  So I guess only time will tell.  But it's really interesting because the level of sadness I've felt has only been matched one other time and that was when my husband and I broke up when we were dating, even then I felt so confident we would end up together it wasn't so crushing or maybe that's the softening of 17 years coming and going.

As I drove to return him to his mother, I struggled not to cry.  I didn't want my fair skin and light eyes to show any signs of crying.  I didn't want his bio mom to be robbed of one moment's joy and worry about my sadness at the return of her baby.  So I held it together. I felt happiness seeing her joy.  My heart was filled with the knowledge that this is why I foster for this moment.  And I kept it together through the exchange of stuff, details, and numbers.  It wasn't until she was settled and ready to return home that I sensed what could be awkwardness and so I said my goodbyes and rushed out.  Breathing the deep, counted breathing that has gotten me through life's biggest crisis.  But once I hit the safety of my car, I cried - the sobbing, can't breath cries of the truly heartbroken.  I drove home quickly to the safety of my home and son who had just gotten off the bus.  I lost myself in taking care of him and the monotony of life's demands. 

But moments would grab me and crush my heart and as the pain clamped down, the hiccupping sobs would surprise and overcome me.  They'd last just a few minutes, before I pulled it back together.  I made a mass announcement on social media knowing I couldn't have this conversation a hundred times in the next few days "where's the baby?"  So here I am three days later.  I'm gripped by sadness still, crying when I think about it, crying as I write this, but I'm also sniffing car seats and washed laundry still smelling baby remnants smiling happily at what my husband and daughter deem the smell of baby spit up.  But it's the smell of him and I have a piece of him still.  I happily watch videos of him and I playing, look at all the pictures and think what a marvelous opportunity this was.  And I feel unsure if I should rush into getting another baby or wait.  I feel unsure if I will ever love another baby like I did this last one. 

But ever the eternal optimist, I think I am ready to jump back in and try it again.  Not sure if I can love as much, not sure if it will be the same or different, not sure if it was the fact that he was a baby that made our bond so strong, or a preemie who clung to life, or if it was his naturally happy and mellow temperament that made our cuddle sessions into a dreamlike quality.  But I can do this again.  So does that make me at acceptance.  And was I always there.  Is acceptance the stage where I have acknowledged every aspect quickly and successively, but allowed myself to feel the pain, to cry the tears, to try again.  And even if I am shocked by surprise tears, I'm just as shocked at my resilience.

And here's hoping that when I contact his mom in a week or so that she will be open to visits, because all I really need is to see him happy to be happy.  I'll never understand how our kids become our whole hearts.  But it's what happens. So here's my declaration that I'm willing to give another piece of control of my heart to someone else.  Love your kids, love your families, love your friends and neighbors.  Go love, that is the one thing I am always sure about! 

Wy Is My Guy

He's the best piece of my heart.
He's kind, easy and almost always content with whatever.
Even if every now and again I see smidges of adolescents that terrify me,
I know we will weather this together.
He loves me fiercely and is super protective of me.
He takes his role as oldest seriously.
If Travis is gone he is the consummate"man of the house."

He puts others ahead of himself.
He loves learning.
He shivers with pent up energy when he gets into something.
He reads voraciously. 
(Like a book a day on weekends or snow days, every two days otherwise.)
He's sweet and kind. 
He embraces old fashion manners and opens doors for others,
waits for everyone to be served before starting to eat,
lets girls in front of him in lines.

He is thoughtful and intuitive.
He is snugglable and loving.
I'm so happy to have him.
Happy Birthday, kid.  I'll keep you - forever!

A Great Time To Serve

Autumn time in our home is a great time.  It's filled with excitement and energy. Snow and Christmas are around the corner.  And each day is filled with the excitement of watching which tree will usher forth its colors.  The leaves start dropping and my kids get a manic energy.

When we lived in Utah we had our own trees turning and dropping leaves.  Now we only have one.  It's not that exciting and it drops late in the season.  Many others around us don't have that same love for autumn.  For them it is the raking of endless bags of leaves.

This year I offered out our family services to two or three individuals.  They took us up on our sincere efforts.  We raked over 20 bags of leaves, which is only a drop in the bucket for those with deciduous trees.  The weather was chilly, but not unbearable.

I love my kids willingness to help others.  I hope they remember these times as good and take this with them into adulthood.  Special note:  Issac is a champion worker and all around happy boy.   No matter the task, he has a smile on his face.  That's why he has so many pics.

Dear Travis,

I'm not going to lie, I feel a little sick right now to my stomach, a little sad, mainly hopeful and tons optimistic.  It's crazy that in this human experience we can feel all these conflicting emotions at once.
I know you are already asking, what sparked all this.  So let me give you the back story.

I just got done reading this book.  It was a "love story".  It was sweet and sad and I fell for the characters.  So much so that I started to get emotionally involved.  I had real opinions that the main girl should not forgive the main boy.  He had screwed up too many times in too many big ways.  In the end, she did and of course they lived happily ever after, but I left feeling heartbroken too.  My heart hurt and I am still feeling some of the pain and it's all FAKE.  Blasted books!

And I keep thinking back on our dating story.  How it was rocky and rough, filled with hurt and pain, some intentional mostly not.  And I think to all the times I forgave you and how well that turned out.  I think of where we are now and how I couldn't be happier.  I think of all the times still, that we hurt one another, never intentionally we've grown too much for that nonsense, but often unintentionally or just from selfish motivations.  I think of all the times you have forgiven me, more you, because I'm a much bigger culprit of selfish imprudence and need your forgiveness daily.  And that's where all the hopeful happiness and optimism comes in. 

You are amazing and wonderful and forgiving and kind and generous.  I keep thinking of that quote I read to you from another book the other day, "Always remember...You have been given the power to forgive any offense, and in so doing, remove it from your awareness...True vision is his gift, allowing you to see no blame; forgiveness is your truest purpose in this life.  Seventy times seven, always, leaving the old self in the watery grave and rising to find no fault."  And you...you are a master at this.  And I am learning, and I'm happy to say I've linked myself to you.  I'm learning from you everyday. 

Thanks for being you, I love what you do!
Mary

You Say It's Your Birthday

No words could ever describe this miracle that came into my life...

Learning more from him about the Savior and all things good than anyone.
Happy Birthday, Travis.  I love you!
#number1reasoniknowmyHFlovesme

New Year's Eve

Did you know that Trivial Pursuit is like $50.00+ dollars.  Is that crazy to anyone else?  So for New Year's Eve, I wanted to play, but instead asked my friends via Facebook if they had and would lend a copy.  Alas several stepped forward.

My night was a great mix of my favorite things and people...a mix of movies, game playing, celebrity performances and countdowns, sparkling cider drinking, cheers giving, happiness.  And a prompt crash into bed.  Each year I exponentially become more of a little old lady. 

 

It's Simple

My life is crazy.  I'm behind in my posts.  I'll get caught up, but in the meantime this was too important not to do:

This is my anthem to my hubby - the world's best man!