happier ever after

man i know it probably sounds crazy but i'm so stoked to be turning 29 next week. i know i'm going to enjoy it while it lasts and i'm really looking forward to 30. i'm not going to wish my life away by any means but i'm certainly going to be glad to have my 20's all behind me.

i feel like 29 should be like the last chapter of a book, the climax has already occurred and essentially the author is going through and tying up the loose plot ends and polishing off how the protagonist handles the ending. leaving the reader with a nice sense of closure and satisfaction from the whole experience.

my 20's had such chaos going on, between great and terrible relationships and constantly moving back and forth across the country, now that i'm back in nebraska with 3 kids and working it seems like this would normally be the point where their would be some cliche like 'and they all lived happily ever after...'

i do have a feeling, however, that instead of a nicely polished ending this is going to end up being a cliff hanger that turns into some trilogy. living in nebraska or not, life isn't over yet, and i'm more than sure that 29 will lead to choices and adventures that aren't going to allow for an ending, let alone a story book one.

so here's to 29, and all the adventures to come. and although not necessarily happily, may it always be happier ever after.

Jane Doe

i'm not really sure how many people know what an animal lover i am. maybe i haven't finished the 'life' series of posts far enough to get into how my childhood was filled with helping animals give birth, everything from goats, to horses and dogs. we had quite the menegerie.

anyway. it pretty much grieves me to see animals in pain, or even ones who probably died a painful death.

so today i was driving from my house in one little town the 4 miles to the next little town. we've been having beautiful rain storms and i was looking for an excuse to get out and drive around hunting for rainbows with my kids. we come over one of the small hills directly upon a wounded doe splayed across the road.

initially i slow down knowing i'll have to just to get around her, as i get closer i can see how mangled her rear legs are, completely disjointed. i have seen scenes like this so many times having grown up in the country, never liking it, but i really have no idea why this time it's pulling my heart strings so hard. i pass her barely moving and as i see her eyes reflecting the now blue sky dotted with puffy clouds i just pull over and stop. my kids are in the back, totally aware of her and are asking me a million questions about her. 'is she ok... what happened... did she get shot... can we help her...?' all i can tell them is that i'm sure she was not shot.

i get out of the car, go check on her and sure enough, she's dead. i don't know why i expected any differently but i was still saddened. as i stand there in the middle of the road i know i can't just leave her. sure there isn't anything i can do to save her, but i can prevent anything worse from happening. at least anything that isn't part of the natural cycle of life. i did actually make a quick call to my dad to make sure it was ok to touch her (i've had experiences with wild life before to find out after the fact that there are some animals that 'they' say you're not allowed to touch, baby ducks for example.) when i get the go ahead i move her from the road, as far as i can take her to make sure she won't be the train wreck drivers stare at as nature takes her back.

her liquid ebony eyes stare at me and as i walk away i feel a little bad that i didn't close them, feeling her look at me, knowing she can't see. and i'm hoping others don't have to see her that way. i get into the car and after i assure my kids that i did all i could and 'of course she's in heaven' joe asks the question that to me reveals his kindred spirit of mine.

'momma, her eyes were open, couldn't you close them so she'd look like she was sleeping? so people won't see her that way? people get to close their eyes when they're dead.' we both know she's not a person, but we both know all things deserve dignity in death.

Mursula comes to visit

oh the joys of MRSA. few months ago we were in the hospital with Theia having emergency surgery to clean up her abscesses, spent a week stuck in quarantine and it was terrible. and that was actually her second occurrence.

i thought we were pretty much in the clear, it's been several months and she hasn't been having any issues.

few weeks ago claudia got a pretty gnarly spider bite on the back of her thigh. it turned into an abscess but we got it cleared out manually and it wasn't a huge issue. anyway, two days ago i see the beginning of a pimple on her buttocks and didn't think much of it till i check on it last night and see that it's bigger than a grape now (mind you most of it is below the surface, but i can tell by feeling it) and it's rock hard.

so i start to work on it knowing that it really must be drained regardless of it's origin. ended up gettting a huge amount of puss out but since we weren't sure how it got there, having had no contact with funky spiders in the past few days, we decided it must be looked at by a doctor just to rule out MRSA so we can confidently send her to school.

well of course seeing the doc on sunday night means a fun little trip to the ER, OH JOY!!! it actually wasn't that long of a wait, which was nice. the doc pretty much stated flatly that with MRSA now being our new super-cold, they treat all skin abscesses as though that's what they are. however, unlike theia, whose abscesses were very extreme and the infection much more advanced, in combination with her being much younger, claudia was allowed to leave the hosptial and he said she'd be fine to go to school as long as the sore area wasn't going to be too uncomfortable. well, it's on her butt cheek, so we decided to stay home.

i'm sure she'll be fine soon, back at school tomorrow, and back to work for me. it's just this annoying little part of our lives, this stupid infection that rears it's ugly head periodically. like Ursula the sea witch, so i've decided to call it Mursula. from now on if we have an occurence again, i'll just tell people "Mursula is visiting again..."

funny thing that we haven't even been here for 6 months and we've already had all our kids in the ER. nice...

hope of our sanity

there are actually only a handful of people who know that i truly care about homeless people. i could go on for hours about exactly why, but for the moment we'll just leave it at the fact that my heart goes out to people who've had really bad things happen that have left them in such a state of despair, those who are left quite simply empty and frantic. i will add a disclaimer that i do draw a distinction between the truly 'empty' and those who are lazy.

but that said, i'm always curiously drawn to the homeless who talk to themselves. who've been on the streets, or under them, long enough that they've begun to live in a world all their own, and speak to themselves since only they know what's really going on.

i think sometimes we're all like that and just don't know it. we're some how operating under the delusion that we're sane, but in reality, we all live in our own worlds, and are walking around muttering to ourselves. we're just hoping that maybe, just maybe, someday someone will come who sees our world too. some one who'll hear us muttering our unintelligible babble, and it will some how miraculously be their language too.

some how out of our emptiness and frantic searchings in our world, they can see in and it will have meaning to them too. they'll 'get' us, our natures, our language, our vision of how things are. from then on we can go on babbling and muttering, still crazy in the eyes of the rest of the world, but delightfully crazy together. finally not alone. i can see the scene unfold on the street...

the man bent over, hat drawn low over his eyes, not having made eye contact for years. scruffy beard, shoulders rounded as if carrying the weight of the world-like a boy wearing his father's coat, much too heavy, sagging over him and it's dragging him down. as he takes slow strides down the street, muttering under his breath, a woman approaches 'his bench', her eyes dark and lonely as she searches for a place to rest. pushing her shopping cart full of cans she's scavanged from the bins in the alley near by. she whispers as she limps towards the bench and for a minute she glances at the man, and he in a territorial offensive move, looks up at her wanting to scare her off. but their lonely eyes meet and they hear the other's words. and in that moment their worlds over lap. for once, neither of them is in their own world, but they're together, hearing-and understanding-each other, truly seeing each other, and it's a small dirt and scum covered miracle right there on the street.

they'll walk off together, him pushing her cart for her, letting her lean on him. they'll keep muttering nonsense the world will never understand, but they will both know that he walked up a beggar and walked away a king. a king who after a life time in solitary, has found his queen.

people truly in love never make any sense to the rest of the world. the way they talk to each other, how they see each other, what they do, think and feel. none of that makes sense to the rest of us, they exsist in their own world together. we even joke about them, 'it takes someone like her to love someone like him...' people who only love each other, but are not really in the 'crazy' sort have a much harder time of it. for us, we are still beggars, we are still crazy. muttering to ourselves in our language which to the one we're with is still meaningless gibberish. to people like us one of two things may happen, we may remain 'crazy' and eventually be convinced that that is what we really are and that there is no one who might see us for the kings we could be. or eventually, when you least expect it, and maybe no longer believe it's possible, you might find the one who brings you the hope of your sanity.

and it for some of us, it may be too late.

to fall on love or concrete

falling really isn't so bad, well, at least not the first time. usually that first time, it catches you off guard, you're not expecting it and you're down before you even know what happened. it's really not that the fall is bad at all, it's the landing that leaves the marks. the first time you fall you normally don't even notice right away, it comes later with the bruises, aches and pains that remind you that you even fell and didn't just have some happy ride which ended on the ground.

fall number two, now that's a whole other story. your reflexes are a little more engaged this time and you might actually try to catch yourself. this isn't second nature yet though so undoubtedly you still end up down, but certainly more aware of what just happened.

after numbers three, four and five you definitely begin to develop those reflexes and refine them, catching yourself nearly all the time. rarely do you end up down, except occasionally when it might happen just a bit differently and you can't quite pull it out in time. but for the most point, you've learned your lesson and it's certainly no surprise what's happening, and it begins to occur in slow motion.

as you approach the tenth fall, things begin to change. you start to realize what circumstances surround these trips and begin to safe guard yourself against them, avoiding the precarious and in general being more cautious. situations that would have lead to falling begin to fade since you're now avoiding getting to close to the ledge and are far more calculating.

quite a substantial amount of time can go by with zero falls, and almost no indications that they were even possible. life gets really comfortable, you might even realize you carry no bruises if you thought to look. old scars even begin to fade, receding white or pink lines that bear hardly any resemblance to the monstrous events that earned them. it becomes so easy to forget the safeguards, to ignore the instincts that taught us to brace ourselves, or avoid danger.

then out of no where, bang! after such a long hiatus, we take a wrong turn, lose our footing and in the nanoseconds we watch as the ground comes crashing back up to meet us. and this time, slow motion or not, it hurts like hell.

yes, our brain kicks in the minute we start to go down, but it's too late. with no safeguards, no precautions, we're left with nothing but the hope that our previous experience with learning to fall will kick in some old instinct and maybe we'll hit bottom in such a way as to do as little bodily damage as possible. remembering not to put our hands out so we avoid a broken arm, we sacrifice the knee and roll into it. this fall, more than any others, is definitely going to leave marks. scrapes, bruised bones and the general wounded ego-that we could have allowed ourselves be taken down so easily. no one wants to be caught down on the ground, picking up the pieces of themselves, having to brush off and some how manage to laugh it off and say 'well, i didn't see that one coming...'. we all know that in general, there is nothing worse than taking an epic fall, long and hard, plummeting like an idiot face first into concrete with all the world watching. all of us prefer to take our falls in private, where we can keep that shame to ourselves.

all of this considered, it is entirely and uniquely fitting to me that we call it 'falling' in love. although i'd have to say, if i had to choose the scars i'd rather live with, i might choose concrete over love.

Abyss to Precipice.

it isn't often we get a glimpse of what could have been. those parallel universes, lingering like shadows in light of our reality, revealing in their mystery the potential 'could have beens'. typically when one door closes and the next opens, the former door remains closed. usually that is the hard part, but often it is for the best. for who wants to move through these doors, making these choices, and then looking over their shoulder see a crack in the door, seeing what lies behind, that reminding them of what they had to leave behind to move forward?

the bigger problem is that for many of us, we will never have a great degree of certainty that our decisions made were right or wrong. living with the consequences, good or otherwise, is something we all must do. we cannot go back, there are no handles on this side of the door, and even those which have been left with a crack cannot be reopened, we could more easily rip open the universe than move back through one of those doors. and of course there can be no guarantee that the alternatives which were once there even remain.

i wish i believed that somehow life and these choices were some how linear, that each door opened in front of another, that there were some sort of reason, order, pattern, or distinguishable cycle to it all. that there could be any potential for anticipation, that it might be possible to foresee the outcome. so many people seem to have a plan, choice A, choice B, outcome C, then choice D and so on, and eventually the fruition of their plans, hopes and dreams brings them to a place, similar or better than for what they'd been shooting.

so often i've found that this cosmic sense of order and structure will have no practical application in my own life. i do not have two doors from which to choose, when choosing one and going through it i do not in turn find two more. instead, i am lost in an m.c. escher maze, with doors that open to nothing, stairs i have to climb only to reach the base, walk ways that i will eternally walk up and end no where. and each door that does not lead me to to the false beginning, or to nothing, leads me to a precipice.

what hope is there for one such as i when i stand at that precipice then? what am i to do? when life has given me these, i've jumped. jumped head long into the abyss below, falling into a beautiful disaster. most often, yes, left in broken pieces on the ground, but once put back together i bear scars as badges, reminders that at least i jumped. at least i didn't just cling to the rocks and stay there, not experiencing life for fear of being dashed upon the rocks below.

and for those who wonder whether or not it's been worth it, worth the pain, the scars and endless stairs i've had to climb to reach the next cliff, i say 'yes'. for with each climb i reach new heights, and the light of this reality scatters the shadows of mystery and brings me closer to where i know eventually i'll find myself supposed to be. better and beyond what i'd hoped for. i say 'yes', all the falls and the beautiful disasters are worth it, because as long as i keep jumping there is still a chance that one day, instead of a fall, i'll grow wings and fly.

signs

pretty much every where you look there are signs. street signs, dominate our entire field of vision as we drive down the road. there are a whole group of them telling you just what you can and cannot do"turn here, no turn on red, left turn only, straight, no turns, u-turns prohibited, left turn yield" those are fairly cut and dry. then there are the whole group of sorts that don't tell you specifically how to drive, but inform you that if you should happen to want to end up at a certain destination you must follow them. "40 miles to rome, hospital up ahead, to amphitheater take second left" and of course "food, gas, lodging".

often people talk about life as a journey, and we're like imaginary cars moving along the highway of life traveling to our destination. some people even talk about how they have finally 'arrived' or others talk about how the journey is half the fun. personally i think i must have lost my map, or am traveling in a foreign country where i can't read the signs.

how many times have i done the ridiculous? the life journey equivalent of making a u-turn on a one way street, or speeding ahead passing signs screaming 'bridge out!'? none of my signs make sense. i envy those people who seem to have been clued into the legend of these maps, who can understand these signs. it's all Greek to me.

when i haven't understood what to do, or where to go even God hasn't intervened to help me make sense of it all. no burning bushes speak to me, no hands writing on my walls. sure i've met a lot of talking asses, but none that have offered any valuable directions.

i suppose this is where i'm suppose to accept the adage that 'you have to make your own way' in life. although i'm not sure i'm ready to wield a machete and go hacking through the wilderness to find my own way, not even really knowing where i'm headed; i do think that there has to be some letting go of tradition, we shouldn't always have to follow signs. we can go driving off the path, exploring places that haven't ever been traveled over before.

after all, in the end those of us who do make our own way will be able to say we took "the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

connections

there is a movie called 'the forgotten' with the tag line "You'll Never Forget The Ones You Love". the movie essentially deals with this idea that aliens are using us as guinea pigs and their particular experiment is to measure the connection between parents and children by basically snatching the kids and wiping the memories of the parents. then they observe whether or not there is something left behind, some sort of 'love residue' that is outside the mind, some connection beyond.

anyway, when i saw this movie a few years ago i really liked it. i liked the idea that there is something real behind what we call love, something more than just ephemeral emotions that wax and wane, something real, tangible, that can be weighed or measured somehow. maybe it's because i've always struggled with really understanding my own feelings most of the time. i'm really horrible at labeling them properly and i'm sure sometimes when i'm feeling something, if i asked i'd totally call it something else. so this idea, that there is something completely objective and concrete between people is extremely appealing to me.

for example, i have, at best, a mediocre relationship with my mom. she doesn't understand me, and i'm sure i look down on her a bit for being weak. not that i don't totally love her though, i do, so much and i would defend her if she needed it and would go to the ends of the earth for her. which is the weird part, we barely look like we even like eachother, but somehow there is this connection between us. at this point i should mention that i didn't grow up with her, my dad had custody and i only visited her. that said, it makes sense that we're not close, but begs the question, why would i fight off bears for her? most people just shrug and say 'cuz she's your mom, she gave birth to you and you owe her.' alright, well i suppose from a sociological standpoint that makes sense, most people in any culture believe that you should do anything for your mom. but beyond that, the love part. my mom and i have had a really rough road and i'd have to say she's in the top 5 of people who've caused me the most pain in my life. but maybe that's everyone. get close enough to one person and on a long enough time line they're eventually going to hurt you. anyway, i just find it interesting.

so that all said, back to the idea behind this movie. i do think that there is something there, clearly some otherly real connection that just having emotions about someone. but i have no clue what it is. i suppose if the aliens didn't figure it out then we probably won't either. but i probably won't stop thinking about it.

this whole idea, the premise of the film, has taken on a whole new meaning for me as an adoptive mom. i've basically realized that everyone i know is in one of two camps, 'your kids are your kids no matter how they got there' and 'oh, so you didn't actually make them?'. maybe those two aren't actually as clear as i'd like them to be, but essentially there are people who just whole heartedly accept that adopted children are equal heirs to love and this child-parent supernatural bond, and others who don't but probably wouldn't openly admit it.

i personally am in neither camp. i know cop out on my part. i do think there is something to be said for genetics, and physically growing a child within you. (sorry men, i haven't figured out how to address you yet.) but i also know that there is a whole super reality that happens when you adopt kids. i haven't given birth to any kids, so i don't know what that experience, or being pregnant, or looking into eyes like mine, or any of those things is like or if it changes anything anyway. i don't know if that makes a difference as to whether or not you have that supernatural connection.

i do know that the minute i saw my oldest daughter bounce into the room the first time i met her i knew i already loved her. following closely behind was my son, and one look into his eyes and i knew i'd never look away.

some people call it luck that my kids actually look like me, or so they say. they don't. people look for what they want to see. i have black hair, and so does my son, my daughters actually have lighter brown hair. my eyes are a weird hazel/brown and theirs are the color of mexican hot chocolate. they are after all hispanic, and have completely different features and color than me. but some how it makes other people feel better to pretend like they look close enough to me that i could have made them. like some how that means we can be closer, or some how feel more related. that's total crap by the way, after all, my mom has fair skin, blue eyes and blond hair.

so anyway, i think i might be rambling, but that's just what i was thinking about today. what difference it makes whether you make babies, or get them. there isn't a right or wrong answer, and i'm sure it's not the same for everyone. but i know for me, well, let's just say i'd fight off bears for my kids, go to the ends of the earth for them, and in general want to deck just about anybody who implies that i'm some how less of a mom because mine grew in my heart, not my belly.

rain

"when it rains it pours". i find it interesting that this expression has such a negative connotation. i love it when it rains, even better when it pours. it's so refreshing, each drop of water pulling particles of dirt out of the air. and after, the way the sky is so clear, and the world airing out like clothes on a line. the rains of winter washing away the stains of autumn.

paper weight

i'm the sort of person who loves words. not just because i like to talk and they're necessary either. i'm a person who's been misunderstood and had my words twisted and misconstrued to the nth degree on so many occasions, that i've made it sort of a personal semantic mission to understand words, what they mean, what they do not mean, the best way to use them, and when it would be better to use another. personally, i believe that if i know exactly what a word means and what it does not, it will, at least in my own mind, eliminate confusion when i'm able to use the word which applies to that, and only that, which i truly mean. i'd be plagiarizing to go on with my point further were i not to quote C.S. Lewis' excerpt from his novel "Till We Have Faces" since it most accurately describes my personal feelings on the subject of words.

"lightly men talk of saying what they mean. often when he was teaching me to write in Greek, the fox would say "child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that's the whole art and joy of words."... when the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of our soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about the joy of words. i saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? how can they meet us face to face till we have faces?"

for me, there is a power in words, that no matter how much a picture argues, will never-and could never-be equaled.

i personally am in awe when i think of creation, when i think of that moment when God in His omnipotence made a choice about which tool to use in creating the universe. He didn't choose to rain down lightning, he didn't smash his fists together like flint sending an explosion of sparks to become stars and shards the worlds. with all power available, in the end, he chose not to shake the fabric of time and space with his fist, but with a word.

his word calling out, so full of itself, so powerful that it demanded the creation of space to hold it, demanded the creation of time to sustain the echo. to all those who argue that a picture is worth a thousand words, i ask, what single picture could ever hold a candle to a word, just a solitary word, that so complete in meaning is capable of creating the universe?

all of that said. there are some words that have significant meaning to me, or rather, their meanings are extraordinarily significant to me. all too often, although they may be the most complete definition of what i truly mean, i still refrain from using them because i know that the meaning would be lost on the one i use the word with. sure they would probably understand part of what i meant, they might even know the general idea behind the word, but in the end, the full weight of the word's glory would be lost on them. so instead, i grudgingly use more and smaller words, ones with less potential for personal connotation that might lead them to think i'm saying something altogether other than what i mean. it's actually quite disheartening to have to use empty words to fill in the void left by a word better suited, but unfortunately better saved.

of particular importance to me is the word intimacy. for me it takes every definition Webster could come up with, takes investigation into the Latin and its origins, to fully encompass the word. only then, when i've reconciled the true meaning to the idea i truly mean, do i use it. there are quite a few meanings that really don't fully sum up the word. such as its usage when talking about 'intimate apparel', of course technically when talking about clothing worn next to the skin you could call it intimate. living room style coffee shops are also often referred to as intimate. in this same vein, even references to sexual intimacy can be just as misleading, when often the word is used but really all that is really meant is the fact that it's an event that is private and personal. so for me, to use that word in these ways is, in my estimation, the equivalent of using a Stradavarious violin as a paper weight.

i actually love the words intimate and intimacy when talking about its meaning that pertains to things which exist within the inmost parts of the mind, the character or intrinsic value of one's essential nature; it resonates within me when it's talking about actual union on this deep and elemental level, and the part of the definition regarding two people having the intimacy that arises from close personal connection or familiar experience. in this regard, an intimate friend may very well be that. someone with whom you share your innermost thoughts, and reveal your true nature, and go beyond the corporeal and be who you really are, stripped of pretense, completely without deception. to me, it is during these unveiled manifestations of our pure selves, and only during these, that sharing an experience, whether it be having sex or climbing a mountain, can truly and fully be called intimate. and it is at these times when the word intimacy, like the violin, ceases to be a paper weight and becomes the instrument of music that takes your breath away.

empty, save for me

i suppose it could be said that i'm a sentimental person. not so much about orthodox things, such as trinkets or favors, but about things such as smells or the way someone might look while gazing through rain streaked windows. i suppose it is the beauty in the relatively mundane that interests me. i find my self quite often just thinking about how something may look; the lonely way a cardigan might be sagging over the side of a chair, or possibly the last little bud on a peony bush that is about to bloom when all the rest have already had their day in the sun, and now droop toward the ground preparing to die.

the way in which i remember things is quite often with very precise detail. i remember the feel of wood underneath my toes as i climbed the book case to see out the window when i was 4. i remember the fading light in my grandparents sunroom that we spent so much time in during visits. i remember the specific smell of a crate of old books bought at a garage sale. it's about these sorts of things that i'm sentimental.

i remember walking through denver station a few years ago, it was deserted except for my friend and me, and i could see the light traced through the air on tiny particles of dust. this is one of my most sentimental affections, along with almost all empty places, they, in an odd way, possess a quality in their vancancy that is something magical .

although i love my family and friends, and spending time with them- investing time into them- and being a part of each other's lives is very rewarding, there is a part of me that will always yearn for the lonely solitude of empty places. maybe it's because i'm so keenly aware of exactly how empty it really is not. whether it's a deserted train station, obscure bookstore, or a secluded forest, there are always things to be seen. and for me, all too often, people just get in the way. although going about an expedition with someone has its place, where saftey is concerned for one, there are often times that you look for what you think that person wants to see, what they might be looking at or for, or possibly you're altogether enamored with them and see nothing but their face regardless.

when alone, there is no pretense, there is no expectation, there is no sharing. there isn't some sense of "oh i must tell them too look too!" or possibly, especially amongst children, "i saw it first!". each experience, new, old, or deja vu, is experienced in its purest form, solely within oneself, being weighed and measured without outside influence. a lichen covered rock can become a beautiful thing, it's own miracle, without the threat of someone else convincing you it's just 'a dirty rock'.

there is something very liberating about being alone, seeing things, the world, without peer pressure, and deciding for your self what you think of it. for me the opportunities for alone time within empty places are few and far between. it is not without a certain degree of sadness that i even think about them. wanting to go and see something, whether for the first time or other wise, and really see it. seeing it through my own eyes, untainted by having to share the experience with someone else.

the Greek word for "return" is nostos and algos means "suffering." so nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return. this is the only way to accurately describe my feeling for these places. i actually suffer in their abscense, and do yearn to go back. whether to explore a cave, a shack, or and old book. so when time allows, and my kids can afford, you will not find me here, for i will be off in a place empty, save for me.

heartstrings come undone

it never ceases to amaze me how life can change in a moment. i'm not even talking about huge life-altering events, like car accidents or a terminal diagnosis. there are those smaller moments, when we learn something, which may even seem quite trivial at first, is finally brought to light. only after closer examination do we realize that it's not just a blue piece of the sky, but the hinge on which the whole universe will now swing. swinging like a door revealing for once its other side. as if we're looking at a weaving, never understanding what each thread is for, never able to grasp the pattern, but realizing after the swing that the whole time we'd been looking at the underside. and now, for the first time, seeing the upper side, we see it and the universe in all it's glory, not as lightning bugs drowning in a black pool, but for the beautiful celestial expanse it really is.

i think when i sat down today to write this, i thought i'd be doing some piece on marriage. anyone who knows me very well knows that i love research. i'd never want to write a research paper again, but the searching and study part is like a good massage for my brain. so out of curiousity i spent some time looking up what philosophers and poets have had to say about marriage. knowing all the while that whatever it is i have to say, they've probably already said it, and even more likely, said it better than i could. you could fill libraries with the amount of books and words that have been written and said on marriage alone, and i'm sure somewhere there is a small bookstore that might just specialize on the topic.

of course i have my own thoughts on the subject, but first, some of the quotes i found were hysterically funny, yet so poignant. here's a few so they can speak for themselves:

When two people are under the influence of the most violent, most insane, most delusive, and most transient of passions, they are required to swear that they will remain in that excited, abnormal, and exhausting condition continuously until death do them part. ~G.B. Shaw, Getting Married, 1908

For two people in a marriage to live together day after day is unquestionably the one miracle the Vatican has overlooked. ~Bill Cosby, Love and Marriage

The marriage state, with or without the affection suitable to it, is the completest image of Heaven and Hell we are capable of receiving in this life. ~Richard Steele, The Spectator

In the early years, you fight because you don't understand each other. In the later years, you fight because you do. ~Joan Didion

Marriage is a wonderful invention: then again, so is a bicycle repair kit. ~Billy Connolly


alright, so that being said, my own thoughts:

beginning with a relationship, it can quite easily be compared to a dance. one in which both partners come together, and between them hold the ends of a rope. as the music plays, continuing throughout the relationship like a soundtrack with highs and lows, they dance. sometimes it's slow and controlled, other times wild and passionate. there will be times when it's much to fast, the steps too complicated, and one partner will have to warn the other that they might lose their grip. in consideration for the other, the one will work to make it manageable, to slow things down, to help the partner; they would, after all, rather accommodate, rather than send the partner flying off wildly, thus ending the dance. in a good relationship, this is the choice that is made, to take the dance in steps that keep it enjoyable, and allow them to hold on easily. because both of you dance knowing the other could choose to let go there is such a feeling of love, in this choice. knowing that each day your partner is making a choice for you, a choice to hold on, a choice to accommodate you because they want to keep dancing, and to keep dancing with you.

it's usually during this light cadence that the choice to get married is made. all this dancing, the spinning, twirling and loving, who wouldn't want to continue this forever? especially with this person who's held on, supporting you when you couldn't hold on, who made the choice to hold on tighter for you, who yielded when necessary, lead when called for, and knew all the while that you were choosing to hold on to and, therefore, never took your presence in the dance for granted. who wouldn't want this? to boldly claim this partner for life?

so together the choice is made, you'll marry.

and of course the chorus sings, and the music reaches beautiful heights, and on the wedding day the whole world stops. the dance is in slow motion, it's so easy that day. and you stand there together, in the location of your choosing and whether to a judge, pastor or priest, you hand over your rope temporarily. you say all of the beautiful things, make all the pretty promises and commit to dancing together forever. but before you're done, you get the rope back, but this time you will not be holding it, it will be tied to your arm. 'no matter' these new lovers say as they go off dancing. in the post nuptial bliss they're dancing so close they don't even notice the rope. their hand now free from holding it is this wonderful new experience.

the music commences and the dancing resumes. this couple, now tied together has a new element between them, same rope, same love, whole new dynamic.

they go dancing off into the sunset or some such nonsense and before you know it the music is playing it's highs and lows again. although this time much less consideration has to be given to each other, since after all, you're now tied together, and the threat of letting go is gone. at first this new security is amazing. does something wonderful for you and you can rest knowing that your partner will never leave you. however, when things begin to spin out of control, and the steps get too complicated, there is much less motivation to yield, to accommodate each other. after all, it's not like they might let go.

in really good marriages, and in the beginning of most others, there is still a small amount of control that is regained, some slowing and help given to each other since it is generally the habit you've established since the beginning. there can be times though, when one or the other doesn't view the dance as going as badly the other does, and might take advantage. again, falling on the fact that this rope is now tied, and the other can't just leave. they're not actually working to hinder the other person, there just isn't the fear anymore that it might be over if it doesn't settle down. usually there is a point there the knot is getting tight enough to cause discomfort, and decent people will recognise this and finally work to appease it. some people are natural moderators and continue to dance as if they're still just holding on.

now i'm speaking only out of my own experiences, for i know there are some amazing marriages out there where the dance remains beautiful and the weight of that rope is never felt and it's knot is never tightened.

for me, i've found that all too often i am the only one to yield. i'm the one who accommodates when things get out of control. however far it is from where i want to be, i'll move in to loosen the stranglehold of the knots. this rope which once was a symbol of love and the connection between us has now become a tourniquet. slowly, but with such force behind it, it's tightening the knot like a noose, and about to amputate my hand. i will not say that i've never been the one to give the rope a hard jerk, hoping to finally knock the other person over so i can finally get their attention. sure, several times. there is only so much one little arm can take before even i, the yielder, take action. the pain from these knots is bitter.

not that i want to lead while dancing, heck no, but i have to want to go in the direction the dance is going. and for me, i've realized, or admitted to myself much too late, that not only do i hate the dance i'm stuck in, but that the reason it's so bad is because generally we're not hearing the same music. there is no harmony, and dischord is reigning supreme.

i have always held out hope, beyond wild hope, that somehow the dance would slow, we could nurse our wounded arms and learn to dance again, but sadly, for me, i've had to cut the rope to save my arm. if i've learned anything in my experiences, it's been how wrong i can be and have been about the dance.

in light of this:
'love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. love never fails.'

i've come to realize that love is not the rope, love is the dance. the rope is only the commitment, you either choose to hold on, or you don't. no amount of knots, however far up your arm, can make you stay. tying the rope to your arm should only ever be symbolic and your hand should always be holding on. that way you'll know, and remember from experience, if you're about to lose your grip, it must be fixed, and never fall back on the knot as a saftey net. the knot will only make you lose your arm. the only knots that should ever be relied on are the heartstrings that get tied every time you choose to hold on.

prairie home adventures

so things are finally settling down out here on the farm.  okay we don't actually live on a farm, but there are cows mooing behind our house and since we live in a town with less than 200 people i think it's a fitting description anyway.  

the kids are finally settling into a routine of playing outside, cold weather or otherwise, and figuring out new games and enjoying cousins when they come around.  it's been an amazing transformation to watch our kids go from poking sticks at the ground, to running around playing cowboys and indians in a matter of a month.  yes, when we first got here and we'd send them out to play they had NO idea what playing outside was supposed to look like.   sure we'd taken them to the park before, but there was always a play structure that pretty much dictated what sort of activities they'd get to do.  occasionally someone would bring a ball and bat and batting practice would take place, but there wasn't enough opportunity for imagination i guess.  it's been a steep learning curve here!

now that the kids are getting better at becoming creative and will spend hours at a time outside doing Lord-knows-what, i think it's time for me to give them at least a little to work with.  so i've decided my next project is going to be to construct some teepees.  yep, living on the prairie you can't go without a fort or teepee, and since darren and i both have native american ancestry it seems only fitting that our kids would have a teepee rather than a fort.  i don't think it's going to be anything crazy, not like we're going to have working fire pits inside, just some poles and heavy canvas that i'll try to paint some primitive buffalo/hunt scenes on or something like that (unless claudia has her way and they all get painted pink and become princess palaces).  if i can pull it off, i'll consider buying some burlap or other natural looking material to make shifts for the girls to wear and some pants for joe.  yeah, i might be overly ambitious but it's something i would have loved as a kid.

i just hope that i don't end up getting a call from the neighbors that my kids have taken their kids hostage!

i'll keep you posted as i make progress on the teepees.

My Life. In Pictures. Friday

it's finally FRIDAY

today's photo is "something old" and i actually had a hard time thinking about this one. how old is old? ten years? twenty? i settled on my hardwood floors, the house is easily 50 years old, and the floors are original, so i suppose that counts as 'old'. i know, totally random, but i love them and have always wanted them, so the fact that they 'came with the house' is just a bonus. my kids are still learning that old-hardwood+socks=no traction/disaster, but it's been fun.

My Life. In Pictures. Thursday

Yaa it's THURSDAY!

something i do everyday.

I have to admit, i don't exactly do this 'everyday' but as i went around thinking about it, i could have taken a photo of the diaper changing table, of my dishwasher, or of the vacuum cleaner, but since the back of my house and the window over the sink in my kitchen are due east, most mornings i do get to watch sunrise and it made a much better photo op than the changing pad. :)

My Life. In Pictures. Wednesday

WEDNESDAY!

today is "view from my front door" and considering it's just my neighbor's house, i thought it would be better if i did "view through my front door" enjoy!

My Life. In Pictures. Tuesday

It's TUESDAY!

today is 'something on the table'



okay, so i cheated a little, and put her up there, but this is very typical "theia behavior". because she's a climber, we never usually have anything else on the table anyway, that and it's kitchen table, since we don't have a formal dinning room or anything, so it's not decorated anyway.

My Life. In Pictures. Monday

thanks to Ashley H. i decided i would like to try this, partly because i want to challenge my self to think of interesting things, and partly so i can motivate myself to blog everyday for 5 days!

pretty simple,

monday- something new
tuesday- something on the table
wednesday- view from my front door
thursday- something i do each day
friday- something old

who knows, maybe i'll start taking a photo a day for fun afterwards too. ;)

MONDAY
something new, a Fossil purse my mom gave me.

Funny funny, Stories from the front lines.

as an adoptive parent there are always times when you're asked questions and you wonder how much info you can get away with withholding without actually lying. i don't think that my status as a mother should be defined by the fact that i'm an 'adoptive mother' not a 'biological one' and this story a friend of mine posted is one of the most hilarious examples i know of.

you can click on the link and read this from my friend's site if you'd rather, but for ease of use i'm pasting the entire post here.

Large Families in General


Life changed quickly for us. It's been fun - and it has its funny moments too.

It now takes us 2-3 shopping carts for our Walmart trip. This is groceries + other supplies - but still, we always feel bad for the poor checker. And I've learned that people feel led to comment on large families just because we're ... um ... large!

Case in point - my last walmart trip. Hubby Chris wasn't there, but I had all 7 boys. Four of them went to the toy section (and were well behaved. they wanted to spend their allowance :))
Mikey, Nathan & Adam helped me shop. We filled three carts (yeah, i know - but I had a LIST!)

We finished shopping, located the other boys, approved their toys, and let them go through a nearby checkout so that they could check out first. (Trust me, it takes a LONG time to check out now.) So - I had three carts of supplies, packed to the gills, and only a 2 year old, a four year old, and a 13 year old with me. The checker looked at me, raised his eyebrows, and began checking us out.

One by one the other boys finished checking out and came to ask me if they could go out to the van. By the second or third boy, the checker raised his eyebrows again, and asked me exactly how many children I had. I smiled and told him we had seven, all boys. He asked how that happened. I told him we were very blessed.

He looked at me (raising his eyebrows even higher if possible) and asked what the age range was. So I told him we had a 2, 4, 5, 8, 9, 13 & 14 year old. He looked at me again and told me I didn't look old enough to have a fourteen year old. I just smiled and told him I'm older than I look. So he proceeded to ask my age. Usually I just tell nosy people that I'm old enough to have a fourteen year old, and leave it at that - but I wanted to see if his eyebrows could actually fall off his face, so I told him that I'm 28. LOL. I could see him do the math right then and there.

So he paused for a moment, and then asked if I was married. I smiled. Mikey rolled his eyes and told him that Dad was at home working. He asked if all the kids had the same Dad! (the nerve!) I smiled and told him yes, they did. (Totally not a lie, either! They all have the same bio dad, and the same adoptive dad!!). Mikey just grinned at him and kept loading groceries onto the counter.

He then asked if we had to pick names that were similar so that we didn't forget them. Oh my goodness! You've got to be kidding. So I smiled and told him that they all came with names. And I could remember them. (Remember, I'm smiling and being polite the ENTIRE time. He's starting to think that I got pregnant at 13, had my first kiddo at 14, etc.)

Raising his eyebrows disapprovingly, he asked if I was popping out another one any time soon. I had to laugh; I told him we'd see what God did. His eyebrows almost DID pop off his face. Then he asked Mikey if he wanted another sibling, or if he hoped we were done. Mikey smiled and said he wasn't sure, but it'd probably be nice to have another.

We got ready to leave. He stood there in shock as we pushed the carts out .... and as soon as we got out the door Mikey and I doubled over in laughter. Sometimes you've just got to laugh. And - hallelujah - it now takes a heck of a lot to make me blush.

Huntin' fo Wabbits

i can't believe it. i know we moved here for family and for all of the stuff, traditions, and memories that come with them, but i'm still surprised.

we've been here just over a month and we've already had family dinners, last minute stop overs, date nights, and today we're taking our kids to participate in the huge Easter Egg Hunt that my mom puts on with the neighbor women since they have a huge amount of kids in the neighborhood.

i don't think it's possible to really estimate the importance of family, and although there are rare and blessed people who can live apart from family, given the opportunity, living near family with them involved in your life can have atomic impact on your life and the lives of those in your family.

claudia has gotten more hugs and smooches in the past 5 weeks than she could possibly imagine, from all these people who love her, want her, and care about her. joe has had more fun, learned more games, and gotten to be a part of more adventures and made more friends that he ever could have hoped for. theia doesn't even know what to think. she's warmed up to everyone and has grown so accustomed to people just wanting to see her smile and hug her that she randomly walks up to strangers in public and hugs their legs, smiles, and then runs away giggling. i absolutely love it that she's learned that people love her, and doesn't expect that there would be some who don't. even though i do worry a little that her lack of stranger danger could be a problem in the furture!

everyone here is so unconditional, and the kids really really needed that. and i needed it too.

Holy Long Time No Post Batman!

Alright alright, I know it's been WAY too long since I posted, and believe me, I've WANTED to!

The latest update is that we did indeed move to Holland Nebraska almost exactly a month ago.  I flew here with the kids February 28th, and Darren arrived shortly after, driving straight through with a friend to get here early that Sunday morning.  

We moved into our new house the next day and have been trying to settle in since, with only a few MAJOR hang ups.

First off, Joe got a pretty bad cold and started to get worse and worse.  He's got crummy lungs just like me and takes respiratory hits several times a year.  This time it turned in to Pneumonia.  Blech.

Of course because of our insurance drama we could only take him to the ER, which in the end wasn't a horrible experience.  But none the less, drama...

Then a week later, after only having been here for less than 3 weeks, Theia developed a MRSA infection AGAIN.  I'm not sure if I posted about it, but it would have been about 8 months ago and was awful.  She developed abscesses that had to be lanced and drained at the doctor's office.  NOT pleasant. Same thing happened this time, although the time line was drastically faster, instead of taking 8-9 days to progress, it was only 36 hours and we had to take her to the ER.  This time she required surgery, twice, once in the ER initially, then again the next day.  She ended up spending a week in the hospital while they gave her IV antibiotics and watched to make sure she didn't have a flare up once they switched her to orals.  

I knew being a mom was hard, but nothing was as hard as trying to keep an 18 month old SITTING/LAYING DOWN for an entire week.

Other than that, it has been fantastic spending time with my family, reconnecting with old friends and just starting a new life/routine here.  My mom took Claudia, Joe, the cousins Logan, Mason, and Parker to the circus.  (quite a circus of kids I'd say too!)  They've gotten to explore the fire-station, my mom's work, seen cows that pasture behind our house, seen wild turkeys, horses, goats, donkeys, and a whole other plethora of experiences they've never had before.  They're enjoying going to the gym and making new friends, and are both starting classes next week.

Claudia's going to be in a gymnastics class and Joe is taking swim.  I'm really excited for them to learn new things that challenge them and also give them a sense of achievement and some self esteem.  Nothing makes a child feel more important than feeling like they're an expert at something.  

They'll both start school at Norris (my old school) this fall, Joe in preschool and Claudia in kindergarten.  

I can't wait for each new day as they learn more, adapt, and change as individuals.  

How to Make a Family Part VI

It has occurred to me that I failed to follow up on this particular series. Hopefully it's okay that I do so now.

I left off in Part V with Theia's case in appeals court. Well, the short version of the story is that when the initial appeal was filed, the judge pretty much said they didn't have sufficient evidence to support it and the birth mom was required to submit supplemental evidence within 30 days. She failed to do so. Instead of the appeal taking 8 months, it was over in 31 days. WOOHOO! We got the call in October that since she had failed to provide that document, the judge automatically overruled the appeal and Theia was now free for adoption. So instead of adopting sometime in summer of '09 we were signing her adoption paperwork December 15th of '08.

At Claudia and Joe's finalization, Nov 6th, we already knew the appeal had been denied and were just waiting for some papers that allowed the social workers to move forward; but our attorney was able to talk to the judge and go ahead and schedule the finalization date, far enough out that the papers would come, we could sign her adoption papers, and get everything together by then. Miraculously nothing went wrong and that's exactly what happened. On January 15th 2009 Theia was finalized.

It was fantastic. Our family is fantastic.

I'm not going to try and fool anyone by saying it was easy or anything, because even though in the 'fostercare world' it was pretty smooth and relatively easy, it was still an emotional ride and was hard. I wouldn't trade our kids for anything, but there is still a small part of my heart that knows I only have them at the cost of not having our own. Yes, it's still worth it. With every door closed there is another that opens.

Every day we're working towards becoming better people, spouses, parents, and friends. Our kids have taught us a lot already, and mostly they just remind us that you can't ever stop learning, growing and exploring new things.

One Hour

So tonight, finally, after close to a year, I went and redeemed a gift card I had for a massage (given to me last mother's day). Yeah, obviously I'm a mom and it takes about a year to find an hour away!

It was fantastic. Anyone who's had a good massage will tell you the same thing, muy fantastico! Anyway, I was so relaxed I almost forgot to put all my clothes back on... yeah, that good.

So with that, I'm looking forward to the chaos that is about to ensue as we frantically race to get the rest of the house packed, and work towards getting everything moved.

Woo hoo! Only a week and a half!

Flying Clocks

We'll be the first, though certainly not the only, to admit that our experiences as a grwoing family have been like a whirl wind and a roller-coaster. It's amazing how fast time flies and with all the responsibility and often stress of raising three kids, it's easy to lose track of time. Much like driving a familiar route, you often arrive not really remembering this particular drive and it's like you were in a trance half the time.

I was looking through some of our old webpages with the kids last night, and it was amazing to go back over some of the wedding photos, and vacations, and then come up to the pages when Claudia and Joe first came to our home, and the adventures we had with them while we 'waited' for Theia to come. A month to the day after Claudia and Joe came, Theia arrived, and our little roller-coaster has been rushing forward at a similar neck-break pace ever since.

Looking back on the photos though, I realize I will never forget some of those most precious moments to me. Claudia and Joe waking up on their first day with us, getting to go camping at Joshua Tree National Park with them, going to the beach, and then the day tiny Theia came, ushering a whole new dimension to our lives since she was a newborn.

I thought I'd post a few photos just so we can all reminisce together. Enjoy!

Empty and Frantic

so just the other day, i'm walking down the street and pass this woman on the sidewalk. i look at her for a moment taking in her tattered layers of rags, gnarled hair and dirt streaked face, and in the instant we make eye contact- an eternity passes. her eyes, with wrinkles etched deep, shaping bags seemingly holding dark pools of ink- surrounding eyes sunken and grey, speak of a life she lived ages ago; possibly a life with a husband, 3 kids and a miniature poodle who never really learned to stop peeing on the rug by her youngest son's bedroom door. a family full of love and silliness, bursting with dreams and tears shared.

yet something over came them and along the line of broken bones, broken promises, and in the end broken dreams, something has left this woman with only a shell of her self to remind her of the rise and fall of hope in her life, like a tide, pulling her out to a dark sea of despair. a life which in her current mental state, lost, afraid, and frantic, she can barely even remember, only shadows like ghosts, which haunt her and bring nothing but the pain of her life that died, and forgot to take her with it.

and as we pass by, the air around her feels dead, like the eye of a storm, silent, still, lifeless, sucking the joy out of all that comes near her, like a black hole she's created for herself, to protect herself from letting anyone ever want to come close to her again. her moat of disgust preventing anyone from breaking into her fortress of pain so that she'll never again put herself at risk to love, to feel, to want, and therefore, never again suffer loss, hurt, or disappointment. sadly, it's really just her way of letting her heart be dead while she waits for her body to catch up.

though it brings the risk of pain and loss; living with hope, passion and love is, indeed, Heaven, and she's chosen instead, to live in Hell.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Alright, so by now I'm sure you've all heard that the Croteau family is indeed moving, to an enchanted land, far far away.

Ok, so not so enchanted, but certainly far away. We'll be moving to a small town just outside of Lincoln, NE, called Holland. (you see, if I'd said we were moving to Holland half of you would have said "The Netherlands?!" which would be cool, but is not the case)

I've gotten a lot of questions about "why?!", "why so sudden?", "what about the subzero whether?", and so on and so forth. So hopefully I can be explain and answer at least some of those questions now.

Why? First off, I do believe that this is a God thing. He's opening the door for us to do this right now when it wasn't open before. No we don't have all the answers and no we don't always know exactly why things happen when/why they do, but right now we do believe this is the best thing for our family.

Why Nebraska? Well of course it's because of the beef and corn.

Actually, I grew up there, and all of my family is there, I have 3 sisters, Aspen, Kate, and Jillian, of which two, Aspen and Jillian, have 4 and 5 kids (well #5 is on the way) and their kids just "happen" to be nearly the exact same ages as mine. My younger sister, Kate, and I are very close as well. My dad, his wife, and her kids live there, and I'm extremely close to my dad, and my mom and her husband live there as well and I'm getting closer and closer to them as I get older. (my dad always had custody so I didn't live with my mom and our relationship is a work in progress, she has been married to my stepdad for over 20 years and I am pretty close to him too)

This is just my immediate family, I have cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles, the family friends we grew up thinking were family they spent so much time with us as well. And we have one of those families that is all about getting together, having traditions, holidays, birthdays, and just being a part of each others lives.

We know that family isn't everything, after all, God calls people pack up and move away as missionaries all the time, but anyone will tell you that even if family isn't everything, it sure is a lot. And with all the changes to our family in the past year and a half, right now we can use all the extra family support we can get.

Keep in mind that Darren grew up in the Boston Mass area and all of his family is still on the east coast, so we have zero family here.

Why so sudden? Well it's not really that sudden. Darren and I have talked for years about the possibility of moving there always knowing that although you can raise great kids in SoCal, we wanted a different life for ours if possible. One with yards and free roaming neighborhoods and in general the safety to be a little more carefree. And of course we wanted family to be a part of that. The timing has totally just been a God thing. There have been a lot of things that have let Darren and I know that it was time for change, and we were actually fighting it for a while. With Darren developing ulcers and needing to make changes in his work life, and knowing we needed to make changes that will benefit the whole family, we feel that this is where God is leading us, at least for now.

Another key to Nebraska is definitely the cost of living and quality of life. Yes, you're surrounded by grasslands, prairie and agriculture, (all of which are beautiful in their own right) but out here you've got what? apartment complexes? building after building after building? and statistically one of the worst air qualities in the nation? Yes, the weather is great, yes there is the beach, but city to city, there is nothing here that isn't there. It's just that this time of year you wear a parka to go out instead of tee shirts. Weather isn't everything and I personally miss having it snow a few times a year, I miss thunder and lighting storms, I miss rains and floods and not so much heat and humidity, but collectively all of it, it's always different and it always changes, so at least you appreciate the good way more in light of the not-so-good.

So we're going to buy some sweaters and parkas and get ready for what Nebraska has to offer.

We don't know what we're going to 'do' once we get there, but hopefully God will continue to reveal His awesome plan and we're going to enjoy ever mile of this adventure even if we have no idea where we're headed.

On a personal note, please don't think for a minute that it's not with a great degree of sadness that we move. Darren has spent nearly half of his life here, all as an adult. He has lived, worked and played here, made friends, met coworkers, and had friends that have become a second family to him. He's had a life and planned his future around being here, and it's not an easy thing to give up. The choice he's making now is the same choice I made years ago when I chose to move here and say goodbye to everything and everyone I knew. It's going to be hard, family or not there will be days when he is a nostalgic sort of lonely for this place and for the life he leaves behind. Claudia has already cried about leaving her friends. It's not without cost to her and Joe that we leave. She was born here and this is all she's ever known. She had chaos in her life until she came to our home and the past year and a half has been rock hard stable and the most consistency she's ever known so it is completely rocking her world to feel like she's being uprooted. But it is with all the Pros in mind that we make this choice knowing it's what's best for her and for all of us. Honestly, Joe is a little less concerned, but he's a boy and younger so that's normal. Theia won't know the difference.

And personally, I've also lived here for the past 4 years, and San Diego for 3 years as well and going back does symbolize closing the book on the California chapter of my life. (And for my carefree spirit, the idea of permanently settling down and not living in a tree house somewhere is really difficult to accept.) I have made friends, formed a new life, started new traditions and will miss it all terribly.

I will certainly keep posting our adventures as they happen. Small town living does provide some fantastic and very unique opportunities for kids and I'm excited to see what living so fully in the midst of nature and wilderness does for their spirits, I know what it did for mine. For example see my childhood home, and read my kids' reaction, it's pretty telling that this might be just the adventure they need. So yes, I'm excited. Excited to see if they learn to be wild and free, tree climbers, frog catchers, rock turners, cloud gazers, storm chasers, and more than anything, excited to see them learn hands on and eyes wide open what nature and the world is all about.

Some day they'll grow up, and maybe one day their kids will ask them what they once asked me, "You lived in the Park?!" and they'll also get to say "Yes, I guess I did live in the park." Every kid deserves the park, and I'm so glad to be giving one to my kids.

Eastward HO!

So it looks like mid March we're moving to Nebraska. Lincoln, or at least one of the surrounding areas.

There is, of course, a 3.79% chance that something comes up and it does not happen, but for the most part it's looking like a go.

Darren's developing ulcers due to stress at home and work, and the change of pace, job, and surroundings can only help. That added to the tremendous value of having all of my family around to help out and physically give us the support we need makes this a pretty solid deal. We've always suffered not having grandparents and/or aunts and uncles around to be there for us when we need to go out together, had emergencies come up, and in general just needed some extra love and hands.

I'll keep you posted when we make the final confirmation.

Heartache

i'm totally having one of those days(well weeks, months really), where you let things from the past take you over, things that you've tried to push aside for years, and in a moment they come rushing back reminding you that you'll never really be without them. that they are a part of you and you'll never be whole trying to emancipate yourself from them. how do you get them back when it means giving up something you have now? how do you make choices? how do you decide? oh i just have heart ache thinking about it. nothing's ever really lost or forgotten, how do i move forward?

hope is the killer, dispair would at least mean it's over.

To Infinity and Beyond

So it's official! We've finalized with Theia and that means all of our kids are really really ours! It's such a good feeling and although I knew she wasn't going anywhere, and I knew we really were a family, somehow this does actually feel different. Not because she's more ours but we're more hers.

I have been thinking a lot about what sometimes happens, how sometimes sibling sets have to be split up, at times it just isn't possible to keep them all together. Social Services does try their hardest to place separated kids with families that are willing to have contact with each other so the kids can grow up at least knowing each other. It is really sad to think that had we not been able to take Theia, and moved to Lincoln like we're planning to in the next couple years, Claudia and Joe would have grown up and had part of their story be "Yeah, I'm adopted and I have another bio sister that lives out in California some where, but I don't really know her."

Darren and I haven't talked about it much, but for me at least this does solidify my feelings that if the bio-mom were to have more children, even if not with the same dad, and if they were removed as well, I really would want to take them too.

For now it's just us, which considering there is five of us is plenty. It's amazing being able to say 'adopted', not 'being adopted'. Everything is final and done and it really does feel different, and in ways I wasn't really aware it would be, but it definitely feels good.

The Final Finalization

We're totally stoked that Thursday January 15th our finalization of Theia's adoption is scheduled for 8:30am. It seems like such a long and short journey all at once and after everything we've been through it's just such a good feeling to know the end is near.

Of course, it's really not the "end" but just the beginning of a whole new chapter of us as an 'official' family. I can't imagine our lives any differently, these 3 kids are all so perfect, in their flawed ways, so much like us. We've all got so much to learn and fortunately love covers a multitude of sins, so as long as we have that, we can get through anything.

Who knows if the birth mom will get pregnant again? I'm told to brace for it, I'm not going to hold my breath though. If she does and for unfortunate reasons is not able to keep that child either, then my husband and I have already decided we are willing to open our home and hearts to them, and if not, we're ok with that too. God is big, and His best life for us is clearly evident in the fantastic kids we never could have dreamed up ourselves.

So anyway, Thursday it is. I'm sure I'll have more thoughts and some photos to post when it happens. Till then, happy blogging.

CJ and JT

It's been brought to my attention that Theia gets way more face time than my other kids.  

Since I'm really not the kind of person to really care what people think, I'm not really the sort who goes out of my way to 'defend' myself.  But this time, just for the record, I do love my other kids 'just as much' as I love Theia.  Claudia and Joe are both in school and 90% of the time, when I think to take pictures, it's when we're sitting at home during the day.  And no one can argue that babies/toddlers just have way more milestones that register as a moment worth capturing.  No one would argue that Theia gets more face time had we had Claudia and Joe as infants/toddlers and they'd had equal photos of these same milestones being taken.  

That said, C and J do have milestones of their own of course.  Claudia started Kindergarten, and there were photos of that, and Joe has some of him on his bike.  So anyway, this is a post with a couple photos of Claudia and Joe, they got new scooters for Christmas and they love it.  

       

We also took them to Legoland in Carlsbad which they absolutely loved.

Little Drummer Girl

Oh yeah, Theia's getting so grown up, she's following in momma's footsteps and whenever we go to Sam Ash (the music store) she must have a turn on the drum set that's just her size (ok, it's a little big, for now).

She's teething like crazy, at the moment she's sitting next to me chewing on a toy screw driver.  I'm sure that can't feel great, but she's appears to enjoy it.  

Life around here just gets better and better as we're able to enjoy so much more freedom now that she's moving from infancy in to full fledged toddlerhood.

More to follow for sure.

Alodi

Well last night at about 8:30 we got a call. This was a call we'd trained for, prepared our home and hearts for, waited for, and we're still not exactly prepared for.

The director of our Foster Family Agency called to ask us if we could take an emergency foster placement, just for the night. A 14 year old girl needed a place to stay for the night since there had been allegations of abuse in her current foster home and all of the kids were being immediately removed. It was too late in the evening for them to take her to Orangewood, the county group home and obviously the social worker can't just take her home.

Our experience with foster care and the whole system has been so smooth and relatively 'non-foster-care-feeling' that we almost forgot that sometimes this is what it's like to be a foster parent. Some times you get calls like this in the night, a boy or girl, infant/toddler/child/teen needs a place to stay, some place warm, some place safe, a place like yours.

After juggling our kids around, we set up Joe's bed for her, changed the sheets and bedding so she didn't have to sleep with Lightning McQueen and Batman blankets and then I set up toiletries in the second bathroom for her.

We didn't interact with her much since it was late when she came, and she got picked up for school at 7:30am. It was such a short time it really didn't affect our lives a whole lot actually, but when it was time for her to leave she hesitated a bit. When Darren and I talked about it later, we talked about how it seemed like she wanted to run away when she first came, and it almost looked like she didn't want to leave by morning. Whether or not either of our observations were correct, we did our part.

When asked to do something like this, not very many people would say "Sure! Bring your emotionally distraught teen with an anxiety disorder over for the night" But that's what makes foster parents different from other people. We're not better or anything, but we've opened up our lives and homes to these kids who really need it. In the middle of the night, even if only for one night, we were there for her when no one else was.

And in the end, that is what being a foster parent is all about.

Photo Update

Just some photos of Theia, and one of all the kids. They sure are growing fast and Theia's totally silly goofball personality is coming out more and more everyday.