Here I sit on day 159. My house is clean and everything is put away in its place. Pictures are hung on the walls. My furniture is arranged just so, and I am pleased with it. Well, all of the above is true except for one room in our home: the master bedroom.
Before we moved, we let our kids choose their room colors and themes. My daughter went from hot pink and lime green with polka dots everywhere, to a more "naturesque" feel, with shades of light and dark grey, soft turquoise and tans. My son used to have a sports themed room, but when we moved he decided he wanted a red, black and blue rock star themed room.
I am going to be real honest here, and some of you won't even believe this. I have not unpacked all of my bedroom. I still have six huge boxes sitting on the floor. Each are full. I have not hung my pictures or my mirror. They are all just sitting on the floor, leaning up against the wall. There is nothing on my dresser. I have beautiful built in shelves in the bedroom. They have such potential; however, they have just become a "catch all" for papers, receipts, and other items I'm just not sure what to do with.
We have had many family and friends visit from Illinois. As I show them the bedroom and we get to ours, I just say, "We've been so busy that I just haven't got around to this room yet." Honestly, we are now used to stepping over boxes in our bedroom. We have lived here for over five months, and nothing has changed. My sisters and my mother-in-law have been here twice. It isn't easy the second time someone visits to explain to them why your room is still unpacked.
My husband has asked me many times over the last few months if I had planned on unpacking the room. He says he'll help me. I usually just say, "Oh, I will; I've just been busy." Other times I'll just change the subject.
Why?
A couple of weeks ago, as we were putting away laundry as we stepped over boxes and tried not to knock the pictures on the floor over, he stopped and said, "Heather, do you think this is all a subconscious thing? Do you think you're not unpacking the room because you are not ready to "fully" be here yet. You're not ready to move completely in and really give it your all? Maybe you are keeping a bit of our things still packed up because that makes everything seem permanent?"
Wow! I was speechless, and that rarely happens. I never realized it before he said it, but maybe he was right. I didn't unpack anything, but I began to ponder the situation a little each day. A couple of things stood out to me. First, I have a pretty amazing husband. He is so kind and understanding. He knew I wasn't ready to unpack our bedroom, and he was fine with it. He wanted me to wait until I was ready. Every time he asked me about it, and I blew him off, he didn't keep hounding me. He left it alone and waited for me. Second, I realized he was right. As crazy as it may sound, I do believe that is exactly what I have been doing.
Before we moved, I wasn't sure if I would make it here in New York. I wasn't sure if I would last a week, a month, six months...I was very unsure if I could do it. I love my "comfort zone." I love things that are familiar and safe. Illinois was all of those things to me.
Now, New York is beginning to feel like my comfort zone. It is familiar to me, and that makes me feel safe. I feel strong and confident. I am not saying that to brag on myself. On the contrary, I am saying it because I am so proud of my husband, my kids, and, yes, even myself. We have moved 15 hours away from the only home we ever knew, and are creating a home here. We are meeting friends and exploring our surroundings and learning things about ourselves that we would have never learned had we let my fears dictate whether or not we moved.
Also, I have to give much credit to my family and good friends. They have pushed me, on my bad days, to get up and get out of the house. They have spent many hours with me on Skype. They text me and send us cards and sweet messages. In the beginning, when I just wanted to go home, they encouraged me. They helped me grow and I am so thankful for them.
I am ready to unpack my room. Maybe this weekend, the four of us will go in there and just "dig in." I don't know how long we will reside in New York. Maybe we'll be here for another year. Maybe we will be here for two or more years. Life is too unpredictable to pretend to know things like that. A year ago I didn't think I'd be here, in New York, blogging about moving to New York...but I am! I have learned to take things one day at a time. For the most part, I no longer worry about the future. We can't control it anyway. For me, being able to put worries about the future away, is like struggling to climb to the top of a rocky mountain, and then, finally making it to the top! I have dealt with this issue for my entire life, and I am finally getting it figured out!
For now, New York is my home. I am unpacking my room.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Days 126-136 MY GIRL
I am blessed to share my life with the most amazing and unique girl ever to inhabit this earth. She is apectacular in so many ways. The first thing most people notice is her outward beauty. Then, they get to know this girl, and they are amazed to discover that her inner beauty exceeds her gorgeous exterior. She is smart, capable, genuine and, honestly, one of the funniest girls I have ever encountered. Who is this fabulous girl?
She is my daughter.
My daughter was born, "mature." My husbad and I were very young when she was born, and we never "baby talked" to her. We spoke to her just as she was "one of us." My husband and I were in college. We had many late nights studying and preparing for our college courses. Our daughter stayed up with us and colored, drew pictures, played Barbies, and then we would all three go to bed late into the night. Yes, looking back now, we probaby should have put her to bed at a normal bedtime, but she just hung out with us, and it was comforting and wonderful.
She was the cutest little blonde, blue-eyed, story-telling toddler. She was so creative. She loved glue sticks, construction paper, colored feathers and cotton balls and popsicle sticks. She would sit for hours and make the most amazing crafts. She enjoyed playing with friends and loved family time in our tiny apartment.
As an elementary aged girl she was smart, bold and sassy. She wanted to wear sparkly belts, jeans and sweaters. She had leopard print boots. She enjoyed American Girl dolls and Barbies. She would spend lots of time organizing her Barbie houses. My husband and I both played this with her often. I'd love to have a calculation of the number of hours we spent playing, "dollhouse," as she often referred to it. My mom, sisters and I would take my daughter on shopping trips, and it wasn't difficult at all. It was pure joy. She was "one of the girls.
In jr. high my girl really began to establish a love for sports. She played volleyball, travel softball, and basketball. She also played the trumpet and was a fabulous saxophone player. My husband and I loved watching her play sports and perform in concerts. By then, we had our son, and he woud travel with us to all of her games. She was a smart and capable student who cared about her academics. The Barbies, dollhouse, and American Girl dolls were all stored away. They made room for sports equipment, makeup, cool clothes, and friends. I was proud that my girl was growing up.
High school began! Whoa! There are vast differences between jr. high and high school. Football games, friends, and "going out" replaced most of the sports equipment and time at home. Evetually my girl decided to put sports on hold and join clubs at school and beyond. She was in the Community Service Club, volunteered at the Special Olympics, was VP of her class, volunteered at a local nursing home, and volunteered at a large hospital in our town. At this time, she began to realize that she needed to completely turn her life over to God. There are so many distractions and negative influences in a teenagers life. Ultimately, it is the teens decison to take part in these distractions, or deny them. My girl wanted nothing to do with them. It didn't matter if it cost her friends or popularity. She didn't care one bit about that; however, she did care about her classmates and wanted them to feel the peace that she felt each day simply because she chose to put her trust in Jesus.
She went to the administration at her public school. She wanted to start a Bible study for her classmates, once per month. It would be completely voluntary, and could be held during a free period. The administration told her they would have to "look into it."
They called her in a week later and gave her the green light! She prepared her Bible study, prayed about it, and nervously went into the classroom to begin her first study. She didn't know if anyone would show up. I told her, "If only one person comes to your Bible study, then it was worth it."
That day, 60 students crowded into a little room to hear my girl share her love for Jesus Christ. At the end, they all got in a circle, took their neighbor's hand, and she prayed.
As a parent, my cup runneth over...
My girl started her senior year in a brand new school, because we moved here to NY in June. My heart broke for her. How would I have reacted if my parents had told me that we were moving my senior year?
My girl has amazed me every single day. Many times since our move, she has picked me up because I had "fallen." She has transitioned beautifully. She has made connections with the most unbelievable girls I have ever met. They love her, and she loves them dearly. She tried out for the varsity volleyball team, and made it. We have enojoyed watching her play once again. Now that her brother is older, he sits, eats popcorn, and watches the scoreboard closely. The other night, it was a close game, and when we finally won, his gigantic smile was priceless. He was so proud of his big sister. He idolizes her. Their relationship is so special because there is a ten year difference between their ages. She takes care of him, loves him, almost like he is her own son, and guards him. She protects her brother! If ayone talks negatively about him, or even looks at him hatefully, that person will feel the wrath of my girl!
My girl has been filling out college applications, writing college essays, researching colleges, and thinking about college choices. It is something we discuss and plan for on a daily basis lately. Deadlines are coming, and we have to meet them. We have been so busy planning and researching. It has been all-consuming lately.
Last night, something strange happened. I had been upstairs in my girl's room looking over college information. She was stressed and I was stressed and we decided to take a break for awhile, go to bed, and begin again the next day. I came downstairs and sit down next to my husband. All of the sudden, tears began to flow. They came out of nowhere, so my husband was shocked. He said, "What is wrong?"
I began to explain. Ok. It hit me. I've been so busy thinking about college, college essays, college appications and college programs, that I have failed to think about the fact that my girl going to college means that she will no longer be living with us. Our lives, yet again, will change drastically in about nine months. I have thought about this in the past, but it seemed so distant. I just felt like I had more time, but time flies, and there is nothing we can do to slow it.
My girl, my sweet blonde-hair, blue-eyed, sassy and unique girl will live elsewhere in about nine months. No more arguments, backtalk, eye rolling, door slamming or messes. No more daily hugs, talks, laughs, nightly dinners, high school sports, Saturday morning doughnuts, or the comfort of going to bed each night knowing she was safely sleeping two doors down the hallway from me.
My mom says that I will be fine. I will. I'm tough, and so is my girl, but how fast this milestone in our lives arrived. It seems like only yesterday we were sitting in her room. She had pigtails and a sparkly outfit on, and we were playing dollhouse. Honestly, at that time, I believed that would last forever. I think it is something that, as parents, we separate ourselves from. Who wants to think about that?
I don't know why this has overwhelmed me all of the sudden. My husband and I are giving her more freedom, which means more responsibility. She has to be ready to "fly away" and be successful. We won't be there to remind her each day to do certain things or meet certain deadlines. It will be solely her responsibility. I know she will exceed my expectations, because she always does.
Our children don't belong to us; they belong to God. They are His children that He has trusted us with to raise, love, educate, and, more importantly, share Him and His love and grace and message with them. Time is ticking. Did I do my job? Did I do all that I could? Did I play enough games, spend enough time, teach her about life...the good and the bad?
I know my girl knows that I love her unconditionally. My love for her grows more deeply every day. She is my sunshine on a cloudy day. I look into her eyes, and I see myself, only so much better! She is my precious daughter, and this time next year, she will be away at college, studying and learning and living independantly. I am proud of my girl. I admire her strength. She is becoming a woman of integrity. She is becoming...a woman. She is no longer the pig-tailed toddler who came to me for her every need and want. Our relationship has changed and grown throughout the years. She blesses me beyond measure.
Some of my readers have young chilren. I know they can be exhausting to raise! It's easy to think, "It'll be so much easier when they're walking! It'll be less difficult when they can talk! Everything will get better when they start school!" Obviously, that, to some extent is true, but I can say this with certainly, "It is not easier when it is time for them to leave."
Other readers have young men and women living with you, and they will be "leaving the nest" this year or next. You "get" what I'm saying. You've been there. You know, firsthand, how cruel time can be sometimes. It just flies, and life must go on.
I know my girl is ready. She is tough, saavy, honest and filled with God's love. She is my warrior princess/hippie. My girl is unique and strong. I will cherish the end of her senior year, and celebrate with her as she moves on to pursue her education so that she is prepared to go out into this world and soar!
I want to end with a quote by Erich Fromm.
"The mother-child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic. It requires the most intense love on the mother's side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother, and to become fully independent.
She is my daughter.
My daughter was born, "mature." My husbad and I were very young when she was born, and we never "baby talked" to her. We spoke to her just as she was "one of us." My husband and I were in college. We had many late nights studying and preparing for our college courses. Our daughter stayed up with us and colored, drew pictures, played Barbies, and then we would all three go to bed late into the night. Yes, looking back now, we probaby should have put her to bed at a normal bedtime, but she just hung out with us, and it was comforting and wonderful.
She was the cutest little blonde, blue-eyed, story-telling toddler. She was so creative. She loved glue sticks, construction paper, colored feathers and cotton balls and popsicle sticks. She would sit for hours and make the most amazing crafts. She enjoyed playing with friends and loved family time in our tiny apartment.
As an elementary aged girl she was smart, bold and sassy. She wanted to wear sparkly belts, jeans and sweaters. She had leopard print boots. She enjoyed American Girl dolls and Barbies. She would spend lots of time organizing her Barbie houses. My husband and I both played this with her often. I'd love to have a calculation of the number of hours we spent playing, "dollhouse," as she often referred to it. My mom, sisters and I would take my daughter on shopping trips, and it wasn't difficult at all. It was pure joy. She was "one of the girls.
In jr. high my girl really began to establish a love for sports. She played volleyball, travel softball, and basketball. She also played the trumpet and was a fabulous saxophone player. My husband and I loved watching her play sports and perform in concerts. By then, we had our son, and he woud travel with us to all of her games. She was a smart and capable student who cared about her academics. The Barbies, dollhouse, and American Girl dolls were all stored away. They made room for sports equipment, makeup, cool clothes, and friends. I was proud that my girl was growing up.
High school began! Whoa! There are vast differences between jr. high and high school. Football games, friends, and "going out" replaced most of the sports equipment and time at home. Evetually my girl decided to put sports on hold and join clubs at school and beyond. She was in the Community Service Club, volunteered at the Special Olympics, was VP of her class, volunteered at a local nursing home, and volunteered at a large hospital in our town. At this time, she began to realize that she needed to completely turn her life over to God. There are so many distractions and negative influences in a teenagers life. Ultimately, it is the teens decison to take part in these distractions, or deny them. My girl wanted nothing to do with them. It didn't matter if it cost her friends or popularity. She didn't care one bit about that; however, she did care about her classmates and wanted them to feel the peace that she felt each day simply because she chose to put her trust in Jesus.
She went to the administration at her public school. She wanted to start a Bible study for her classmates, once per month. It would be completely voluntary, and could be held during a free period. The administration told her they would have to "look into it."
They called her in a week later and gave her the green light! She prepared her Bible study, prayed about it, and nervously went into the classroom to begin her first study. She didn't know if anyone would show up. I told her, "If only one person comes to your Bible study, then it was worth it."
That day, 60 students crowded into a little room to hear my girl share her love for Jesus Christ. At the end, they all got in a circle, took their neighbor's hand, and she prayed.
As a parent, my cup runneth over...
My girl started her senior year in a brand new school, because we moved here to NY in June. My heart broke for her. How would I have reacted if my parents had told me that we were moving my senior year?
My girl has amazed me every single day. Many times since our move, she has picked me up because I had "fallen." She has transitioned beautifully. She has made connections with the most unbelievable girls I have ever met. They love her, and she loves them dearly. She tried out for the varsity volleyball team, and made it. We have enojoyed watching her play once again. Now that her brother is older, he sits, eats popcorn, and watches the scoreboard closely. The other night, it was a close game, and when we finally won, his gigantic smile was priceless. He was so proud of his big sister. He idolizes her. Their relationship is so special because there is a ten year difference between their ages. She takes care of him, loves him, almost like he is her own son, and guards him. She protects her brother! If ayone talks negatively about him, or even looks at him hatefully, that person will feel the wrath of my girl!
My girl has been filling out college applications, writing college essays, researching colleges, and thinking about college choices. It is something we discuss and plan for on a daily basis lately. Deadlines are coming, and we have to meet them. We have been so busy planning and researching. It has been all-consuming lately.
Last night, something strange happened. I had been upstairs in my girl's room looking over college information. She was stressed and I was stressed and we decided to take a break for awhile, go to bed, and begin again the next day. I came downstairs and sit down next to my husband. All of the sudden, tears began to flow. They came out of nowhere, so my husband was shocked. He said, "What is wrong?"
I began to explain. Ok. It hit me. I've been so busy thinking about college, college essays, college appications and college programs, that I have failed to think about the fact that my girl going to college means that she will no longer be living with us. Our lives, yet again, will change drastically in about nine months. I have thought about this in the past, but it seemed so distant. I just felt like I had more time, but time flies, and there is nothing we can do to slow it.
My girl, my sweet blonde-hair, blue-eyed, sassy and unique girl will live elsewhere in about nine months. No more arguments, backtalk, eye rolling, door slamming or messes. No more daily hugs, talks, laughs, nightly dinners, high school sports, Saturday morning doughnuts, or the comfort of going to bed each night knowing she was safely sleeping two doors down the hallway from me.
My mom says that I will be fine. I will. I'm tough, and so is my girl, but how fast this milestone in our lives arrived. It seems like only yesterday we were sitting in her room. She had pigtails and a sparkly outfit on, and we were playing dollhouse. Honestly, at that time, I believed that would last forever. I think it is something that, as parents, we separate ourselves from. Who wants to think about that?
I don't know why this has overwhelmed me all of the sudden. My husband and I are giving her more freedom, which means more responsibility. She has to be ready to "fly away" and be successful. We won't be there to remind her each day to do certain things or meet certain deadlines. It will be solely her responsibility. I know she will exceed my expectations, because she always does.
Our children don't belong to us; they belong to God. They are His children that He has trusted us with to raise, love, educate, and, more importantly, share Him and His love and grace and message with them. Time is ticking. Did I do my job? Did I do all that I could? Did I play enough games, spend enough time, teach her about life...the good and the bad?
I know my girl knows that I love her unconditionally. My love for her grows more deeply every day. She is my sunshine on a cloudy day. I look into her eyes, and I see myself, only so much better! She is my precious daughter, and this time next year, she will be away at college, studying and learning and living independantly. I am proud of my girl. I admire her strength. She is becoming a woman of integrity. She is becoming...a woman. She is no longer the pig-tailed toddler who came to me for her every need and want. Our relationship has changed and grown throughout the years. She blesses me beyond measure.
Some of my readers have young chilren. I know they can be exhausting to raise! It's easy to think, "It'll be so much easier when they're walking! It'll be less difficult when they can talk! Everything will get better when they start school!" Obviously, that, to some extent is true, but I can say this with certainly, "It is not easier when it is time for them to leave."
Other readers have young men and women living with you, and they will be "leaving the nest" this year or next. You "get" what I'm saying. You've been there. You know, firsthand, how cruel time can be sometimes. It just flies, and life must go on.
I know my girl is ready. She is tough, saavy, honest and filled with God's love. She is my warrior princess/hippie. My girl is unique and strong. I will cherish the end of her senior year, and celebrate with her as she moves on to pursue her education so that she is prepared to go out into this world and soar!
I want to end with a quote by Erich Fromm.
"The mother-child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic. It requires the most intense love on the mother's side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother, and to become fully independent.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Days 121-125 Random Thoughts
On March 29. 2011, I was getting preparing to celebrate my 35th birthday. I was also preparing to move across the country. I was having a "day." All of these random thoughts from nearly 35 years were encompassing my mind. I was filled with a plethora of random ideas, fears, hopes and dreams. I decided to post them in a Note on facebook. I'm not sure why. I guess I sort of wonder if other people feel the same way that I feel or if they have the same random thoughts and ideas that I have. I am a very open person, so sharing my thoughts and feelings doesn't make at all apprehensive.
I am resharing my facebook Note in my blog, but a few things have changed. These things have changed because I have changed. It has been just over six months since my facebook Note, and my life has changed in great magnitudes in that time.
I am resharing my facebook Note in my blog, but a few things have changed. These things have changed because I have changed. It has been just over six months since my facebook Note, and my life has changed in great magnitudes in that time.
- Kindly speak your mind. Even when someone comes at you with rage, your stance will be heard and responded to if you are kind.
- Go without makeup. Run errands and spend days with no make up on. It is humbling. Even if all of the other moms go to the grocery store looking as if they are heading out to do a photoshoot for Fit Magazine, you don't have to. We all look the same first thing in the morning. Sometimes it's just nice to stay that way all day.
- Embrace your age. Love your body. I would love to be about 5ft. 9in. tall. I'm not and I never will be. Unfortunatley, it took me over thirty years to accept that fact.
- .Love people more than anything else. There are so many lonely people, but we don't make the time to realize it and reach out to them. Since we have moved, this point speaks volumes, because I have actually been that lonely person. In the beginning, if more people would have reached out to me and said a kind word or welcomed me to the community, the transition would have been vastly different and easier
- Forgive. It is so hard to really forgive when someone hurts us physically or emotionally. Forgiving is the most freeing thing you can do for yourself. Plus, the Bible speaks so plainly on the subject. We HAVE to forgive others, and ourselves.
- Don't let your past dictate your future. This has taken me SO long...way too long, to figure out. I was a rebellious youth, a teen mom, and a very insecure person. For years, I worked so hard to make up for all of that. I spent countless hours trying to prove how "smart" I was and that i WAS "good enough." I was letting my past define me. I am way beyond just "good enough." I am a child of the King!
- I am all about having good clean fun. Laughter really is medicine. Since my c-section seven years ago, I've been know to laugh so hard that I pee my pants. I am totally ok with that. :)
- Age really is just a number. I have always loved birthdays and I celebrate them with a passion. I put my heart into every birthday that I plan for my husband and my children, and even for myself. I don't mind at all to throw myself a big birthday party. Another year of life is worth celebrating!
- Cherish every age and stage your child goes through. Most of my friends have babies, toddlers, and elementary aged kids. My oldest child will be heading to college in only a year. I remember, vividly, giving birth to her as if it were only yesterday. Where did all of those years go? I don't know where they went, but I do know that I can't even get one single second of them back. Do not rush them to walk, talk, start school, etc...just savor every moment of parenthood.
- All of this is opinion, but I have to say that, in my opinion, my kids are brilliant and amazing. I do not take for granted the fact that I am blessed beyond measure. The joy they bring into my life is something that words just cannot express. They have moved across the country, and created these new lives for themselves. It has not been easy. They knew not one person when we arrived. A week ago, my daughter had sixteen friends over for pizza and is thriving in activities and extra curriculars. My son is making friends and enjoying amazing adventures. He was invited to a birthday party today, and he can't even think of who the kid is, but this kid knows my son, and invited him! Due to the move we have given our children something very valuable. They have been given the ablity to adapt in new and extremely challenging situations. They can be separated from their "comfort zones" and be successful. I can't begin to describe how proud I am of my kids.
- Make time for your spouse. Make your husband or wife feel like they are the king or queen of the world. Laugh with them and just enjoy life together...the good and the bad. The bond between a husband and a wife is miraculous. I thank God every day for my husband of 17 years.. He is a true blessing and a huge source of strength for me.
- I admit it: My parents are, and always have been RIGHT. Now that I'm adult, if I am stressed, my dad will call me and give me a scripture verse to reflect upon or words of encouragement, and the stress fades. I tell my mom that she is my "medicine." All she has to do is listen to me, and it's like I've received a big dose of medicine!
- I pray we are raising our children to have a passion for Jesus, and that they will love Him with their whole hearts and share His love with others.
- I pray we have taught our kids kindness. I want to have the type of kids that will go out of their way to befriend the friendless. I know that they both fully see the importance of this now, because when we moved they "were" the friendless. Kind young people reached out to them and got to know them. They have wonderful friends now that, only six months ago, they weren't even aware of.
- When it is time for my kids to leave the "nest," I pray they will fly with the strongest wings possible, and they will soar like eagles. I pray, at that time, that I am strong enough to be ok with the fact that they will no longer be living with me. I realize that at this time next year, I will actually be living this, since my daughter will be in college. They may be called to serve the Lord and the world in a country far away from here. If that is the case, I will be proud that I contributed to their independence, and I will be incredibly thankful for technology.
- I am still learning that I just can't control everything. I have to hand the reigns of my life over to my Maker.
- I have learned who my true friends are and what makes a friend. It has been a hard lesson, but I am conforted believing that some people come into our lives for a reason, some for a season, and some for a lifetime. Even my "reason" and "season" friends have been true gifts. Some were put into my life for a reason: to teach me something or help me along. Others were put into my life for a season: They were here only for a season. They were beautiful seasons, but as we know, seasons come and go, and we just have to be ok with that. Other friends are here for a lifetime. I praise my Lord for my lifetime friends.
- I know one day I will win my battle with anxiety. I have come such a long way and I give God and my family all the credit for helping me with this fight. I believe that one day this will no longer be an issue in my life at all. Until that day, I will "baby step" my way through and learn and grow from every struggle I have concerning anxiety. Recently, I read a quote and it really hit home with me. "Anxiety is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it never gets you anywhere." I have things to do. I don't have time to not "get anywhere."
- Physical exercise is important for health reasons, but it should never be #1, or even #2 or 3. I have learned to be very careful with obsessions, whatever they may be.
- As I am getting "older," I am noticing lots of fine lines around my eyes. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I am also getting a line between my eyes. I like the way my face looks when I lift up on my forehead or eyes and "viola!" It looks as if I've had an instant face lift! My wise mother would say, "Thank God you have eyes that can see. Who cares if you have a few wrinkles around them!"
- I love my computer because I am in constant contact with people. I love people and sharing and receiving ideas with them. I have noticed that relationships that I had with some people from Illinois have actually strenghened since our move. This is due to the computer. We have made an effort to skype and contact through facebook and email.
- I am a firm believer that "things" do not make people happy. Things definitely create temporary happiness, which is nice "temporarily," but I believe we should be focusing more on long term happiness. People are the key.
- I disagree with sugar coating things for our children. Life is hard. The sooner they realize that, the sooner they will be able to adjust and live successfully.
- My sisters are precious gifts from God. They are built-in best friends for life.
- I respect the fact that life is fragile and so beautiful. Never, ever avoid telling someone how you feel about them. If you have the urge to say, "I love you," then just say it!! If you feel like hugging someone, then hug them! I love giving hugs. I have, since our move, given hugs to people who are complete strangers, but they were so kind to me, so I felt like I had to hug them.
- I think sometimes we come to a place in our lives where the situation we are dealing with is just way too big. We have to either trust God completely, or just fall flat on our faces. I feel that I am in this place right now and I am determined to seek His face so that He can guide me as I continue to adjust and thrive on the new endeavor, which is our move.
- My husband often says, "Two different people can have the exact same day, but their perspective means everything. Person A reports the day was "awful." They feel this way simply because nothing "great " happened. Person B reports a "good" day. They feel this way simply because nothing "horrible" happened. It's all a matter of perspective." I am working hard to take on his perspective. Unfortunately, I have been guilty of having a bad day, or a bad event in my life, and I equate that to having a "bad life." That is absurd, and it pains me that I have actually done that.
- I worried about our move. My heart broke when I said "goodbye" to the people and places and things that I loved. I ached ponering the idea that my children's lives were getting ready to be turned upside down for awhile. Would they be ok? I feared that I couldn't handle it. I doubted my ability to adjust or even function outside of my "comfort zone" I have never struggled to such a degree in my entire life. I have had some of my lowest moments here. I have literally, many times, collapsed to the floor after the kids go to bed and sobbed, for hours. My husband has not left my side during those times. He comforts me and encourages me. The sobs are so deep and so great that it hurts everywhere. I have felt alone. I have felt unwelcomed. I have felt like an alien on another planet. Then, I became determined to "live life." I had to get out there and do my part. I couldn't succeed in my new environment if I stayed in the house. I began living again. I am meeting people. I have met so many interesting people from all over the country. Their stories and experiences inspire me. I still have bad days like everyone else. I still cry sometime, just like everyone else. The deep, painful sobs are gone. I have grown and it makes me proud. I was...I am, capeable of so much more than I ever imagined.
- I do not feel that I have simply, "moved." I feel like I have been "planted." I plan to bloom brightly.
- I have several verses I'd like to share:
- If God be for me, who can be against me?? Romans 8:31
- I will be strong and vigorous and very courageous. I will not be afraid, neither will I be dismayed, for the Lord my God is with me wherever I go. He never rejects me but He promises to be with me always. Joshua 1:9 and Matthew 28:20
- My worrying and being anxious will not add one unit of measure to my stature or to the span of my life. Matthew 6:2,5
- My children fear the Lord and keep all His statutes and commandments. They love the Lord with all their mind and heart and their entire being and with all their might. Deuteronomy 6:2,5
- My children make right choices according to the Word of God. Isaiah 54:13
- I am not controlled by what people think of me. As long as God is satisfied with me , then I am satisfied. 1 Corinthians 4:3-4
- God is my sheild, my glory and the lifter of my head. Psalm 3:3
- The thief comes only in order to steal and kill and destroy. But Jesus came that I may have and enjoy life and have it in abundance. John 10:10
- When I feel hurt and brokenhearted God binds up my wounds and cures my pain and sorrow. Psalm 147:3
- God will cover me with His wings; I will be safe in His care; His faithfulness will protect and defend me. I need not fear any danger at ight or sudden attacks during the day. Psalm 91:4-5
- My light shall break forth like the morning, and my healing shall spring forth speedily. Isaiah 58:8
- I am one of God's sheep and His sheep hear His voice. John 10:27
- You are my God; teach me to do Your will. Be good to me,a nd guide me on a safe path. Rescue me, Lord, as you have promised; in Your goodness save me from my troubles. Psalm 143: 10-11
- I fear not, for God is with me; I am not dismayed, for He is my God. He will strengthen me, yes, He will help me; He will uphold me with His righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10
- I can do anything God asks me to with the help of Christ who gives me strength and power. Philippians 4:13
- God is my refuge and strength, an everpresent help in trouble. Psalm 46:1I am called Your name. I humble myself, pray, seek, crave, and require of necessity Your face and turn from my wicked ways. In doin this, You have promised to hear from heaven, forgive my sins, and heal my land. 2 Chronicles 7:14
- I am more than a conqueror through christ who loves me. Romans 8:34
- It is God's desire that I be free from all anxiety and distressing cares. 1 Corinthians 7:32
- As I think in my heart, so am I. Proverbs 23:7
- God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7
- God has given me the commandment that I should love others just as He loves me. John 13:34
- O Lord, You have searched me and know me. You know when I sit and when I rise. You understand mmy thoughts. You sift and search out my path and my lying down, and You are acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word on my tongue, still unuttered, but, behold, O Lord, You know it altogether. Psalm 139:1--4
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Days 99-120. I Think I Finally Have It Figured Out!
It's been 21 days since my last post. There are several reasons for it. We had family visit from Illinois, which was wonderful. I have been busy with "back to school" activities and commitments. My headaches, lately, have interfered with my mood and energy level. Sadly, I just haven't been in the mood to write.
To begin, I must say that if you have never moved, you may not be able to relate to, or even begin to understand, what I am writing about. That is not meant to offend anyone; it is just a fact. Before I moved, I wouldn't have understood; however, I think I finally have it figured out. At this point you're probably wondering, "What has she figured out?"
I believe I have finally learned the true meaning of "homesick."
I have, sort of, developed my own definition. I'll explain.
The kids were out of school this past Thursday and Friday for Rosh Hashanah. My husband took Friday off of work so that we could drive to upstate NY to Lake George. We wanted to explore the lake and go to the Great Escape Six Flags amusement park. Little did I know just how much I would learn on our little getaway!
We were about two hours from where we live in NY. We were filling up our van with gas. A car pulled into the pump in front of our van. My husband looked at me and said, "Look! A Chevy Lumina!" My mouth dropped. I knew exactly what he meant. He then said, "I haven't seen one of those in four months."
Wow. Obviously, that had never ocurred to me, but I was never so thrilled to see a Chevy Lumina. Such a familiar car...a car I didn't even realize that I had missed, or even ever noticed, until I saw one again.
We continued to drive. My husband and I kept recognizing things we were used to back "home." We were recognizing things in our old comfort zone. "Look, a Toyota Tundra! Look, a Ford F150!" We were seeing these pickup trucks and loving it!
Finally, we saw what brought the biggest smile to all of our faces! I yelled, "Look! A truck with a four-wheeler in the back!" Awesome! My husband said, "I feel like we're back home."
We stopped again. There it was...a truly wonderful sight: A young girl walked into a rest stop with her dad and she was wearing a camo ballcap. "Look! That girl is dressed in camo!" It was beautiful! It was comforting! It was enlightening!
I was really beginning to figure a few things out in my head. I was starting to put together some pieces of a puzzle...a "homesick" puzzle.
*Again, if you've never moved to a completely different region of the country, you are probably bored right now, or thinking I have lost my mind, but, if you have, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about!
We arrived at our hotel. A lady there called me, "honey." What?? Did she call me "honey?" She used a term of endearment with me, yet she doesn't know me? I am no longer in Westchester county! I seriously felt like hugging her!
We went to bed that night and all of these sights and words were running through my mind. I was somewhat confused and still trying put the pieces of the puzzle together. I finally fell asleep.
The next morning we went to a local diner for breakfast. We sat up at the bar. A huge painting on the wall spoke volumes. It wasn't frivolous. It wasn't painted from the talented hand of a famous artist. Still, it allowed me to continue putting the puzzle in my head together.
It said, "God is love. 1 John 4:8"
Unbelievable. Were we back in the midwest? It sure did feel like it!
You see, what we have seen in our new location is total political correctness. A scripture verse would not be hung in a restaurant. It wouldn"t be hung anywhere! It may offend someone who doesn't have traditional "Christian" values.
It's all so interesting. I have learned so much. I have definitely learned that the way I choose to serve God is not the most popular way. Still, I serve Him.
It is a great responsibility and honor.
Yes, the past few weeks I have felt homesick. But, homesick for what?
I talk to my family every single day...sometimes several times per day. The same it true with my close friends. We have had many visitors from home, and have more scheduled to arrive this month and next! So, what gives??
I feel like we're adjusting. I am really finding my way around and learning the "rules and regs" of our new location. I am learning ways to get involved in the schools. I am pleased, immensely, with the schools that my children attend. The pure adventure, fun, and outlets for knowledge that surround us thrills me.
Well, as I said before, I believe I finally have it figured out. The puzzle is almost complete.
As basic, and maybe silly, as this sounds, I'm going to say it anyway. It is my definition of "homesick." It is the familiar, basic, and noneventful things we see every single day...the ones we don't give a second thought to because they are so commonplace, that we miss the most. The craziest part is that we don't realize we even miss them, or what we have been longing for, until we see them agian.
A Chevy Lumina, a Toyota Tundra, a Ford F150 hauling a four-wheeler, any type of camo clothing, someone using a "term of endearment" with me, or a scripture verse painted on the wall...
Do any of you even notice these things? I bet you don't. I didn't either, before...
My world has changed. Sometimes I feel like moving to NY is very similar to moving to another country. Obviously, this wouldn't be true of every part of NY; however, living near NYC certainly is. Everything is fast, hurried, and blown out of proportion. Things that are no big deal to me are made into a huge debate here. Everything has to be voted upon. People are very blunt. If you are getting on their nerves, they have no problem telling you. If you are in the grocery store, with your cart, and are taking a bit too long to decided on what brand of peanut butter you want, they have no problem saying, "What are you waiting for? A green light?" (I speak from personal experience!)
They call tennis shoes, sneakers. They call sauce for pasta, gravy. They call pop, soda. They call pizzas, pies.
When I took my son to school a few weeks ago, an employee of the school said to my son, "Good! You wore your cool sneakers! We have gym today." I smiled and said, "In Illinois we call them tennis shoes. It's amazing how the different states have differing terms for certain words." He said, "Tennis shoes are for playing tennis."
Really?? Then what are "sneakers" for?? Sneaking around? Whatever!
I can't begin to explain to you all of the differences. They are vast. Those of you who have been here to visit know exactly what I'm talking about. Establishing a new comfort zone has been the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. It doesn't matter how much fun you're having, or how much you're learning, or the life experiences you're gaining. You still have to have a comfort zone. You have to allow yourself to develop one. It can't be just inside the walls of your home. You have to establish a comfort zone in your community.
I'm so glad we decided to take the trip to upstate NY. I always pray and ask God to lead and guide my every move. I ask him to light the path I am supposed to take...just as a runway is all lit up so that the airplane knows exactly where to land. I feel our trip was an answered prayer. I get it now.
It's those teeny tiny insignificant things back in Illinois that I was longing for. So, I always had this ache in my heart, but I didn't know why. Now that I've see those things again, I understand. I know what I have been missing. Certain vehicles, clothes, and ways of life are what I needed to see. I had absolutely no idea what it was until that Chevy Lumina pulled in front of us at the gas station.
Those pieces of the puzzle are put together now. They fit so nicely. There are still some pieces missing. Most of those pieces are my ability to accept the new and develop a level of comfort with the new...no matter how difficult that may be. I really believe having all of this revealed to me over the weekend will help me do that. I am going to strive to do this. I'll put on the full armor of God every day knowing that when I've done all that I feel like I can do, I will still stand like a pillar. (Ephesians 6) I can do this. I can become comfortable again, even if things around me look unfamiliar.
One day, in the near future, maybe my whole puzzle will be complete. Although, do I really want the entire puzzle complete? Probably not. I need to leave a couple of pieces unavailable and reserved for "crazy." We all deserve a little bit of that every now and then. :)
To begin, I must say that if you have never moved, you may not be able to relate to, or even begin to understand, what I am writing about. That is not meant to offend anyone; it is just a fact. Before I moved, I wouldn't have understood; however, I think I finally have it figured out. At this point you're probably wondering, "What has she figured out?"
I believe I have finally learned the true meaning of "homesick."
I have, sort of, developed my own definition. I'll explain.
The kids were out of school this past Thursday and Friday for Rosh Hashanah. My husband took Friday off of work so that we could drive to upstate NY to Lake George. We wanted to explore the lake and go to the Great Escape Six Flags amusement park. Little did I know just how much I would learn on our little getaway!
We were about two hours from where we live in NY. We were filling up our van with gas. A car pulled into the pump in front of our van. My husband looked at me and said, "Look! A Chevy Lumina!" My mouth dropped. I knew exactly what he meant. He then said, "I haven't seen one of those in four months."
Wow. Obviously, that had never ocurred to me, but I was never so thrilled to see a Chevy Lumina. Such a familiar car...a car I didn't even realize that I had missed, or even ever noticed, until I saw one again.
We continued to drive. My husband and I kept recognizing things we were used to back "home." We were recognizing things in our old comfort zone. "Look, a Toyota Tundra! Look, a Ford F150!" We were seeing these pickup trucks and loving it!
Finally, we saw what brought the biggest smile to all of our faces! I yelled, "Look! A truck with a four-wheeler in the back!" Awesome! My husband said, "I feel like we're back home."
We stopped again. There it was...a truly wonderful sight: A young girl walked into a rest stop with her dad and she was wearing a camo ballcap. "Look! That girl is dressed in camo!" It was beautiful! It was comforting! It was enlightening!
I was really beginning to figure a few things out in my head. I was starting to put together some pieces of a puzzle...a "homesick" puzzle.
*Again, if you've never moved to a completely different region of the country, you are probably bored right now, or thinking I have lost my mind, but, if you have, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about!
We arrived at our hotel. A lady there called me, "honey." What?? Did she call me "honey?" She used a term of endearment with me, yet she doesn't know me? I am no longer in Westchester county! I seriously felt like hugging her!
We went to bed that night and all of these sights and words were running through my mind. I was somewhat confused and still trying put the pieces of the puzzle together. I finally fell asleep.
The next morning we went to a local diner for breakfast. We sat up at the bar. A huge painting on the wall spoke volumes. It wasn't frivolous. It wasn't painted from the talented hand of a famous artist. Still, it allowed me to continue putting the puzzle in my head together.
It said, "God is love. 1 John 4:8"
Unbelievable. Were we back in the midwest? It sure did feel like it!
You see, what we have seen in our new location is total political correctness. A scripture verse would not be hung in a restaurant. It wouldn"t be hung anywhere! It may offend someone who doesn't have traditional "Christian" values.
It's all so interesting. I have learned so much. I have definitely learned that the way I choose to serve God is not the most popular way. Still, I serve Him.
It is a great responsibility and honor.
Yes, the past few weeks I have felt homesick. But, homesick for what?
I talk to my family every single day...sometimes several times per day. The same it true with my close friends. We have had many visitors from home, and have more scheduled to arrive this month and next! So, what gives??
I feel like we're adjusting. I am really finding my way around and learning the "rules and regs" of our new location. I am learning ways to get involved in the schools. I am pleased, immensely, with the schools that my children attend. The pure adventure, fun, and outlets for knowledge that surround us thrills me.
Well, as I said before, I believe I finally have it figured out. The puzzle is almost complete.
As basic, and maybe silly, as this sounds, I'm going to say it anyway. It is my definition of "homesick." It is the familiar, basic, and noneventful things we see every single day...the ones we don't give a second thought to because they are so commonplace, that we miss the most. The craziest part is that we don't realize we even miss them, or what we have been longing for, until we see them agian.
A Chevy Lumina, a Toyota Tundra, a Ford F150 hauling a four-wheeler, any type of camo clothing, someone using a "term of endearment" with me, or a scripture verse painted on the wall...
Do any of you even notice these things? I bet you don't. I didn't either, before...
My world has changed. Sometimes I feel like moving to NY is very similar to moving to another country. Obviously, this wouldn't be true of every part of NY; however, living near NYC certainly is. Everything is fast, hurried, and blown out of proportion. Things that are no big deal to me are made into a huge debate here. Everything has to be voted upon. People are very blunt. If you are getting on their nerves, they have no problem telling you. If you are in the grocery store, with your cart, and are taking a bit too long to decided on what brand of peanut butter you want, they have no problem saying, "What are you waiting for? A green light?" (I speak from personal experience!)
They call tennis shoes, sneakers. They call sauce for pasta, gravy. They call pop, soda. They call pizzas, pies.
When I took my son to school a few weeks ago, an employee of the school said to my son, "Good! You wore your cool sneakers! We have gym today." I smiled and said, "In Illinois we call them tennis shoes. It's amazing how the different states have differing terms for certain words." He said, "Tennis shoes are for playing tennis."
Really?? Then what are "sneakers" for?? Sneaking around? Whatever!
I can't begin to explain to you all of the differences. They are vast. Those of you who have been here to visit know exactly what I'm talking about. Establishing a new comfort zone has been the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. It doesn't matter how much fun you're having, or how much you're learning, or the life experiences you're gaining. You still have to have a comfort zone. You have to allow yourself to develop one. It can't be just inside the walls of your home. You have to establish a comfort zone in your community.
I'm so glad we decided to take the trip to upstate NY. I always pray and ask God to lead and guide my every move. I ask him to light the path I am supposed to take...just as a runway is all lit up so that the airplane knows exactly where to land. I feel our trip was an answered prayer. I get it now.
It's those teeny tiny insignificant things back in Illinois that I was longing for. So, I always had this ache in my heart, but I didn't know why. Now that I've see those things again, I understand. I know what I have been missing. Certain vehicles, clothes, and ways of life are what I needed to see. I had absolutely no idea what it was until that Chevy Lumina pulled in front of us at the gas station.
Those pieces of the puzzle are put together now. They fit so nicely. There are still some pieces missing. Most of those pieces are my ability to accept the new and develop a level of comfort with the new...no matter how difficult that may be. I really believe having all of this revealed to me over the weekend will help me do that. I am going to strive to do this. I'll put on the full armor of God every day knowing that when I've done all that I feel like I can do, I will still stand like a pillar. (Ephesians 6) I can do this. I can become comfortable again, even if things around me look unfamiliar.
One day, in the near future, maybe my whole puzzle will be complete. Although, do I really want the entire puzzle complete? Probably not. I need to leave a couple of pieces unavailable and reserved for "crazy." We all deserve a little bit of that every now and then. :)
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Days 96-98 The Power of a Simple Chicago Bears Shirt
It happened to me today; one of those events that make one sit back and reflect.
What was the event? I was at the mall and a teenage boy passed me wearing a Chicago Bears shirt.
I literally stopped. Right there in mid-walk, I stopped. I qustioned my husband, "Was that boy wearing a Bears shirt?" My husband replied, "I don't know; I didn't notice."
I noticed! I haven't seen anyone representing any Illinois teams since we moved 98 days ago.
As strange as it sounds, when I saw the big orange "C" on the shirt, I felt a hollow feeling. I felt a longing.
I am adjusting to NY life. I am certainly doing my best. Some days it seems like we have just always lived here. Other days, I feel like we just moved and that there should still be boxes everywhere needing to be unpacked.
I believe, for some reason, right now, I am just longing for familiarity. I'm longing for the familiarity that surrounded me, in the same city in Illinois, for 25 years. I know that some days my son longs for that familiarity as well. I know that today was one of those days for him. It's obvious to me. As his mother, I know him almost as well as I know myself, and it hurts when I know he is struggling.
He is going to a large school. He has no "connections." It is up to him to meet people on his own. It is up to him to use his best judgement as to whether someone is a good person or not. He started soccer today. He knew not one person on his team, and he had never met his coaches. I watched him closely. He did his best, and he is strong. Still, he was having some difficulty. I "get" it. It breaks my heart.
I don't know what made today "that day" for us. Who knows?
The Chicago Bears shirt...it was a welcomed sight! We'll be going "home" for Christmas. It will have been seven monthss since we were last there.
NY is becoming my new normal. It really is; however, there is really something to be said for "familiarity." It is comforting and predictable. Sometimes a little predictability is nice!
I was praying last night. I kept asking God to illuminate the path that I am supposed to be taking. My husband is thriving at work. He loves his job and is enjoys and respects his colleagues. My daughter is the happiest I've ever seen her. She has met the sweetest girls. They have all been so welcoming! She is on the volleyball team and the forensics club recruited her as well. She has become quite the social butterfly, and every second of that just makes my heart leap with joy. For the most part, my son is adjusting. He is courageous. He is such a kind-hearted person. He is, overall, doing well.
Then...there is me. Yes, I'm having fun. I'm experiencing activities and opportunities that I never thought I would be able to. I laugh a lot and I am learning a lot about myself. I am really learning who I am and what I am capeable of. Still, I struggle with my "role" in all of this.
Anyway, back to my prayer. I was asking God to "illuminate my path. Direct and guide the path I am supposed to take by bright illuminators." I asked him to illuminate my path just as an airplane is trying to land, and the pilot looks for the illuminator lights on the ground. They create the perfect path that the airplane is supposed to take. I am the airplane, wandering, and God is the pilot. He is guiding me, but I know I need to listen more closely. Sometimes I know that he, the pilot, is turning me, the plane, one way, but I, instead, go another way. If I am not watching closely and listening to the pilot, then how can I find the illuminated path...the perfect path that is all lit up and waiting for me to land?
Wow...the feelings that a simple Chicago Bears shirt brought up inside of me today. Home. I guess that's what I longed for when the boy walked by wearing that shirt. Will Illinois always be home? Will I consider NY "home" one day?
I guess only time will tell.
What was the event? I was at the mall and a teenage boy passed me wearing a Chicago Bears shirt.
I literally stopped. Right there in mid-walk, I stopped. I qustioned my husband, "Was that boy wearing a Bears shirt?" My husband replied, "I don't know; I didn't notice."
I noticed! I haven't seen anyone representing any Illinois teams since we moved 98 days ago.
As strange as it sounds, when I saw the big orange "C" on the shirt, I felt a hollow feeling. I felt a longing.
I am adjusting to NY life. I am certainly doing my best. Some days it seems like we have just always lived here. Other days, I feel like we just moved and that there should still be boxes everywhere needing to be unpacked.
I believe, for some reason, right now, I am just longing for familiarity. I'm longing for the familiarity that surrounded me, in the same city in Illinois, for 25 years. I know that some days my son longs for that familiarity as well. I know that today was one of those days for him. It's obvious to me. As his mother, I know him almost as well as I know myself, and it hurts when I know he is struggling.
He is going to a large school. He has no "connections." It is up to him to meet people on his own. It is up to him to use his best judgement as to whether someone is a good person or not. He started soccer today. He knew not one person on his team, and he had never met his coaches. I watched him closely. He did his best, and he is strong. Still, he was having some difficulty. I "get" it. It breaks my heart.
I don't know what made today "that day" for us. Who knows?
The Chicago Bears shirt...it was a welcomed sight! We'll be going "home" for Christmas. It will have been seven monthss since we were last there.
NY is becoming my new normal. It really is; however, there is really something to be said for "familiarity." It is comforting and predictable. Sometimes a little predictability is nice!
I was praying last night. I kept asking God to illuminate the path that I am supposed to be taking. My husband is thriving at work. He loves his job and is enjoys and respects his colleagues. My daughter is the happiest I've ever seen her. She has met the sweetest girls. They have all been so welcoming! She is on the volleyball team and the forensics club recruited her as well. She has become quite the social butterfly, and every second of that just makes my heart leap with joy. For the most part, my son is adjusting. He is courageous. He is such a kind-hearted person. He is, overall, doing well.
Then...there is me. Yes, I'm having fun. I'm experiencing activities and opportunities that I never thought I would be able to. I laugh a lot and I am learning a lot about myself. I am really learning who I am and what I am capeable of. Still, I struggle with my "role" in all of this.
Anyway, back to my prayer. I was asking God to "illuminate my path. Direct and guide the path I am supposed to take by bright illuminators." I asked him to illuminate my path just as an airplane is trying to land, and the pilot looks for the illuminator lights on the ground. They create the perfect path that the airplane is supposed to take. I am the airplane, wandering, and God is the pilot. He is guiding me, but I know I need to listen more closely. Sometimes I know that he, the pilot, is turning me, the plane, one way, but I, instead, go another way. If I am not watching closely and listening to the pilot, then how can I find the illuminated path...the perfect path that is all lit up and waiting for me to land?
Wow...the feelings that a simple Chicago Bears shirt brought up inside of me today. Home. I guess that's what I longed for when the boy walked by wearing that shirt. Will Illinois always be home? Will I consider NY "home" one day?
I guess only time will tell.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Days 86-95 MEAN GIRLS
What is a mean girl? I mean, what's the definition of "mean girl?" Is there one? If so, what causes a mean girl to be "mean?"
Many years ago I viewed the movie, "Mean Girls." I was a high school teacher at the time, and some students were talking about it. I thought I would watch it and try to figure the whole "mean girl" thing out. I was horrified. It wasn't a bit funny. It was cruel and malicious.
If we were all completely honest, most of us would have to admit to being tormented by a "mean girl" in our lives. A true "mean girl" torture is not just a one time event. Being tormented by a mean girl lasts for some time. It may take place for a few weeks, for a summer, for a school year, or maybe even every school year!
Mean girls seek out their prey carefully, just as a lioness seeks out a wounded gazelle. Who can she try to destroy and get by with it? Who is an easy target? Who would put up with the abuse?
I was recently involved in two "mean girl" incidents. One was with elementary aged girls, and the other was with teenagers.
My sister, nephew, and best friend were here visiting us from Illinois. One afternoon, we decided to walk the boys down to the park to play. We sat down at the first picnic table we came to. Across the park were three moms sitting together on a park bench talking. They automatically began to give us the "look." The look I'm talking about says, "What are they doing here? Do we know them? Do they live here? What's their story?" I am used to that "look" because I get it almost every time I walk down to the park.
I wanted to just get it over with and stand on top of the picnic table and scream at the top of my lungs over to them, "We're here to play. No, you don't know us. Yes, I do live here. There is no "story." We just brought two little boys to the park to release some of their energy."
Obviously, that's now how the story goes.
Our boys were running around gathering sticks and leaves and chasing each other. Also at this playground, were six little girls. The girls belonged to the three women who were giving us the "look."
After, literally, three minutes of our arrival, the girls began to try to get our boys in trouble. They were running next to our boys and saying, "We won't play with you." Our boys could have cared less. My sister, friend and I just sat and quietly watched all of this unfold.
Then, one little girl ran over to her mom and yelled, "Those boys are throwing sticks at us!" Gasp! My friend said to us, "What? They never threw anything at those girls!" Next, the mom looked at my son, who was busy playing and in her "mean girl" voice said, "Umm...don't throw sticks at them." Ok...by this point, the momma bear in me was becoming quite angry.
Everywhere our boys would go, the girls would follow and taunt them. The girls knew we were watching them, but it didn't matter one bit. They would follow our boys around and say, "Stay away from us. You can't play with us. Go home!" I was in shock.
I finally had to say something when I heard the other mom say to her daughter in her caddy voice, "Just stay away from them." She said the word, "them" as if she were talking about head lice or bed bugs.
I'm thinking, "How can they stay away from our boys when they are following our boys around?" I said, in my loud-enough-for-them-to-hear-me voice, "Boys, I know you weren't throwing sticks at those girls. We've been watching. Stay over here next to us, please."
Immediately, the three mothers looked as if they had seen a ghost. They began to whisper. I had it figured out: They were former mean girls who grew up to be mean women.
Yes, sadly, this situation is not unfamiliar to me. I have been at the same park before and witnessed similar events; however, this time was different. The last time something like this happened, I was alone. I went home, felt defeated, and shed a few tears over it. This time, I had my sister and best friend with me. I had allies. I knew they "had my back." So, I was better able to stand up to the "mommas of the mean girls."
Just as "mean girls" feel more powerful and wreak more havoc when they are accompanied by friends or followers, so does the person they are trying to hurt. If their prey has a friend or two around, then she is more likely to stand up to her antagonizer(s).
Now...on to the teenagers. Obviously, mean little girls turn into mean big girls, who ultimately turn into mean women.
My sister, friend and I boarded the train to NYC. We found the group of seats at the end that face each other. In other words, two or three people can sit facing another two or three people. It's perfect for traveling in groups. My sister and I sat in the two empty seats there, and our friend sat in the other row.
Two teenage girls were sitting across from my sister and I, and their friend, another teenage girl, was sitting next to my sister. I smiled at the girls and the train sped off. Was it my imagination, or were the girls mocking my smile? Every time I would look at them and smile, nod, or do anything at all, they would mock me! I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. They were laughing, whispering, and texting. I thought, "Ok, Heather. You're going overboard. These girls are not being mean. They're just having a good time together on the train."
I received a text. It was my sister who was seated right next to me. I opened it and it said, "These girls are making fun of us." I began to laugh. I thought I was going to fall out of my seat laughing. Here we were, two grown women, and three teenage girls are making us feel insecure and inadequate. We decided to just try to ignore them.
Oh my goodness! They began taking pictures of us with their phones. Every time I would look up they would snap a picture, then show each other, and then crack up laughing. I began to feel so embarassed. These girls were mean! They meant business! They were trying to belittle us, and it was working! Finally, the seats in across the aisle opened up and my sister and I moved over there to be next to our friend and away from the mean girls!
Then, I saw them looking back and making fun of a tall blonde. The woman, probably in her late 20's, was applying her make up on the train. She kept stopping and looking at the teens like, "You've got to be kidding me!" I think she was in shock, just as we had been. They began taking pictures of her. Tension was high. I could see that this woman was becoming frustrated. All of the sudden, she got out of her seat, walked the five rows up, and quietly said, "Do you B#$@&%$ have a problem?"
Oh my! My sister, friend and I just sat there with our mouths wide open! Out of nowhere came a man. He stood behind the tall blonde and said, "That's my daughter. Leave her alone!" The woman was trying to explain to him what was happening, and he denied their behavior and the lady finally just went and sit back down. Oh, this really got the mean girls going. Seriously, they had evil in their eyes.
I was steaming. I had seen it all. I had experienced some of it!
Why were these girls so mean? How could they be this way to other people? What kind of parent would allow this type of behavior?
Is that where the whole problem lies...with the parents?
Nobody is perfect. Any parent who thinks his or her child is perfect, or even close to it, needs to wake up.
Bullying, of any kind, should never be allowed. This is true for boys and girls. I am just discussing girls for a few reasons. First, I am one. Second, I am raising one, and third, the stories I wanted to share both involve girls.
Let me get back to the train ride for a moment. I watched the mean girls for the rest of the train ride. I began to remember the times I was preyed upon by mean girls. I thought about the times my daughter, sisters, and friends were tortured by mean girls. I watched the girls and began to feel sick to my stomach. They were malicious. They were seeking people out and making their victim(s) feel inadequate. It was calculated and cruel.
It was time for their stop. The man came walking down the aisle toward us. I calmly said, "Are they your daughters?" Proudly, he smiled and stated, "That one is." I'm pretty sure he was thinking that the next words out of my mouth would be, "Well, she is the prettiest little thing I've ever seen!" Instead, I sternly replied, "Then you need to take a parenting class, because they are very mean girls."
He just stopped in his tracks and stared.
I turned toward the girls. Oh my goodness! Their faces were red and they had "deer in headlight" eyes. I pointed to them and said, "Yeah, you girls know exactly what I'm talking about!"
I promise you, they all three gasped, and one put her hand on her heart and said, in a high-pitched voice, "Whaaaaat?"
The four of them got off of the train, and we continued on our way.
Mean girls have to be stopped. They are everywhere. Television makes it seem "cool" to be mean. There is nothing cool about it. I personally know parents who know good and well that they are raising "mean girls," and they allow it. They've created "mean girls" and they are scared of them. They are terrified of her wrath.
So, they continue to simply "be ok" with it.
We should be teaching our children to reach out to others. We have to let them know that it is not acceptable for them to purposely tear others down, or to single a person out in order to degrade her and cause her to feel inadequate. We must tell our girls that if they see someone being treated unfairly, then they need to befriend that person.
Jesus makes it clear that we are to love Him with all of our heart and we are to love our neighbors as ourselves.Wow! That is so difficult. To the "mean girl," it means you can't be mean! Chill! To the mean girl's prey, it means to find it in your heart to forgive the "mean girl" and to pray for her as well.
Mean girls are mean for a reason. I'm sure every reason is different. Maybe their mother was a mean girl (for a reason), so she if following her mother's footsteps. Other "mean girls" may be that way simply because it is allowed. Maybe others have been hurt or somehow been made to feel inadequate, so they are on a mission to make other girls feel the same way.
There will probably always be "mean girls." As for me, I am determined to never let teenage "mean girls" make me feel "small" again. Geesh! I still have to work on not letting the "mean girl moms" get to me. In the meantime, I will forgive, pray, and maybe stay away from the park for awhile. :)
Many years ago I viewed the movie, "Mean Girls." I was a high school teacher at the time, and some students were talking about it. I thought I would watch it and try to figure the whole "mean girl" thing out. I was horrified. It wasn't a bit funny. It was cruel and malicious.
If we were all completely honest, most of us would have to admit to being tormented by a "mean girl" in our lives. A true "mean girl" torture is not just a one time event. Being tormented by a mean girl lasts for some time. It may take place for a few weeks, for a summer, for a school year, or maybe even every school year!
Mean girls seek out their prey carefully, just as a lioness seeks out a wounded gazelle. Who can she try to destroy and get by with it? Who is an easy target? Who would put up with the abuse?
I was recently involved in two "mean girl" incidents. One was with elementary aged girls, and the other was with teenagers.
My sister, nephew, and best friend were here visiting us from Illinois. One afternoon, we decided to walk the boys down to the park to play. We sat down at the first picnic table we came to. Across the park were three moms sitting together on a park bench talking. They automatically began to give us the "look." The look I'm talking about says, "What are they doing here? Do we know them? Do they live here? What's their story?" I am used to that "look" because I get it almost every time I walk down to the park.
I wanted to just get it over with and stand on top of the picnic table and scream at the top of my lungs over to them, "We're here to play. No, you don't know us. Yes, I do live here. There is no "story." We just brought two little boys to the park to release some of their energy."
Obviously, that's now how the story goes.
Our boys were running around gathering sticks and leaves and chasing each other. Also at this playground, were six little girls. The girls belonged to the three women who were giving us the "look."
After, literally, three minutes of our arrival, the girls began to try to get our boys in trouble. They were running next to our boys and saying, "We won't play with you." Our boys could have cared less. My sister, friend and I just sat and quietly watched all of this unfold.
Then, one little girl ran over to her mom and yelled, "Those boys are throwing sticks at us!" Gasp! My friend said to us, "What? They never threw anything at those girls!" Next, the mom looked at my son, who was busy playing and in her "mean girl" voice said, "Umm...don't throw sticks at them." Ok...by this point, the momma bear in me was becoming quite angry.
Everywhere our boys would go, the girls would follow and taunt them. The girls knew we were watching them, but it didn't matter one bit. They would follow our boys around and say, "Stay away from us. You can't play with us. Go home!" I was in shock.
I finally had to say something when I heard the other mom say to her daughter in her caddy voice, "Just stay away from them." She said the word, "them" as if she were talking about head lice or bed bugs.
I'm thinking, "How can they stay away from our boys when they are following our boys around?" I said, in my loud-enough-for-them-to-hear-me voice, "Boys, I know you weren't throwing sticks at those girls. We've been watching. Stay over here next to us, please."
Immediately, the three mothers looked as if they had seen a ghost. They began to whisper. I had it figured out: They were former mean girls who grew up to be mean women.
Yes, sadly, this situation is not unfamiliar to me. I have been at the same park before and witnessed similar events; however, this time was different. The last time something like this happened, I was alone. I went home, felt defeated, and shed a few tears over it. This time, I had my sister and best friend with me. I had allies. I knew they "had my back." So, I was better able to stand up to the "mommas of the mean girls."
Just as "mean girls" feel more powerful and wreak more havoc when they are accompanied by friends or followers, so does the person they are trying to hurt. If their prey has a friend or two around, then she is more likely to stand up to her antagonizer(s).
Now...on to the teenagers. Obviously, mean little girls turn into mean big girls, who ultimately turn into mean women.
My sister, friend and I boarded the train to NYC. We found the group of seats at the end that face each other. In other words, two or three people can sit facing another two or three people. It's perfect for traveling in groups. My sister and I sat in the two empty seats there, and our friend sat in the other row.
Two teenage girls were sitting across from my sister and I, and their friend, another teenage girl, was sitting next to my sister. I smiled at the girls and the train sped off. Was it my imagination, or were the girls mocking my smile? Every time I would look at them and smile, nod, or do anything at all, they would mock me! I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. They were laughing, whispering, and texting. I thought, "Ok, Heather. You're going overboard. These girls are not being mean. They're just having a good time together on the train."
I received a text. It was my sister who was seated right next to me. I opened it and it said, "These girls are making fun of us." I began to laugh. I thought I was going to fall out of my seat laughing. Here we were, two grown women, and three teenage girls are making us feel insecure and inadequate. We decided to just try to ignore them.
Oh my goodness! They began taking pictures of us with their phones. Every time I would look up they would snap a picture, then show each other, and then crack up laughing. I began to feel so embarassed. These girls were mean! They meant business! They were trying to belittle us, and it was working! Finally, the seats in across the aisle opened up and my sister and I moved over there to be next to our friend and away from the mean girls!
Then, I saw them looking back and making fun of a tall blonde. The woman, probably in her late 20's, was applying her make up on the train. She kept stopping and looking at the teens like, "You've got to be kidding me!" I think she was in shock, just as we had been. They began taking pictures of her. Tension was high. I could see that this woman was becoming frustrated. All of the sudden, she got out of her seat, walked the five rows up, and quietly said, "Do you B#$@&%$ have a problem?"
Oh my! My sister, friend and I just sat there with our mouths wide open! Out of nowhere came a man. He stood behind the tall blonde and said, "That's my daughter. Leave her alone!" The woman was trying to explain to him what was happening, and he denied their behavior and the lady finally just went and sit back down. Oh, this really got the mean girls going. Seriously, they had evil in their eyes.
I was steaming. I had seen it all. I had experienced some of it!
Why were these girls so mean? How could they be this way to other people? What kind of parent would allow this type of behavior?
Is that where the whole problem lies...with the parents?
Nobody is perfect. Any parent who thinks his or her child is perfect, or even close to it, needs to wake up.
Bullying, of any kind, should never be allowed. This is true for boys and girls. I am just discussing girls for a few reasons. First, I am one. Second, I am raising one, and third, the stories I wanted to share both involve girls.
Let me get back to the train ride for a moment. I watched the mean girls for the rest of the train ride. I began to remember the times I was preyed upon by mean girls. I thought about the times my daughter, sisters, and friends were tortured by mean girls. I watched the girls and began to feel sick to my stomach. They were malicious. They were seeking people out and making their victim(s) feel inadequate. It was calculated and cruel.
It was time for their stop. The man came walking down the aisle toward us. I calmly said, "Are they your daughters?" Proudly, he smiled and stated, "That one is." I'm pretty sure he was thinking that the next words out of my mouth would be, "Well, she is the prettiest little thing I've ever seen!" Instead, I sternly replied, "Then you need to take a parenting class, because they are very mean girls."
He just stopped in his tracks and stared.
I turned toward the girls. Oh my goodness! Their faces were red and they had "deer in headlight" eyes. I pointed to them and said, "Yeah, you girls know exactly what I'm talking about!"
I promise you, they all three gasped, and one put her hand on her heart and said, in a high-pitched voice, "Whaaaaat?"
The four of them got off of the train, and we continued on our way.
Mean girls have to be stopped. They are everywhere. Television makes it seem "cool" to be mean. There is nothing cool about it. I personally know parents who know good and well that they are raising "mean girls," and they allow it. They've created "mean girls" and they are scared of them. They are terrified of her wrath.
So, they continue to simply "be ok" with it.
We should be teaching our children to reach out to others. We have to let them know that it is not acceptable for them to purposely tear others down, or to single a person out in order to degrade her and cause her to feel inadequate. We must tell our girls that if they see someone being treated unfairly, then they need to befriend that person.
Jesus makes it clear that we are to love Him with all of our heart and we are to love our neighbors as ourselves.Wow! That is so difficult. To the "mean girl," it means you can't be mean! Chill! To the mean girl's prey, it means to find it in your heart to forgive the "mean girl" and to pray for her as well.
Mean girls are mean for a reason. I'm sure every reason is different. Maybe their mother was a mean girl (for a reason), so she if following her mother's footsteps. Other "mean girls" may be that way simply because it is allowed. Maybe others have been hurt or somehow been made to feel inadequate, so they are on a mission to make other girls feel the same way.
There will probably always be "mean girls." As for me, I am determined to never let teenage "mean girls" make me feel "small" again. Geesh! I still have to work on not letting the "mean girl moms" get to me. In the meantime, I will forgive, pray, and maybe stay away from the park for awhile. :)
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Days 82-85 THANK YOU ALL!
Hurricane Irene has come and gone; she was a beast to many. All one has to do is turn on the news to see the havoc she has wreaked and hear of the deaths she has caused.
She was my "first" hurricane. It is terrifying to watch the news and hear the authorities and governement officials telling individuals in your area to, "hope for the best, but prepare for the worst." We headed their instructions, and then we watched the television, closely, the path of the storm. We prayed it would just head deep out into the ocean away from all humans, and then simply, disappear.
We listened to the reports that it was headed straight for us. We watched as it viciously ripped through other states before us. We had only two things we could do: wait and pray.
Besides a wet basement, fallen limbs and closed roads all around us, we are fine. We had no real damage to our home. We were kept safe. We are safe. Tonight, I'm not going to go into details about the hurricane. Instead, I am writing to say, "thank you."
In the days leading up to the hurricane, I began getting phone calls, texts, facebook messages and wall posts. They all expressed a common theme. "We love you guys. We are praying for you all. Keep us posted. We're thinking of you all."
Each text, phone call, and facebook post and message meant the world to us. We were trying our best not to be afraid, but when you have no other family around, it's easy to let fear creep in. All of the constant communication from friends and family from Illinois and other areas gave us confidence. We KNEW so many people were praying and beliving for us. So many prayers were going up to the Lord Almighty for us.
We knew we had people all over following the news and tracking Hurricane Irene just to see how close she would be coming to our area. We even had people up throughout the night last night tracking the storm, even as we were sleeping.
We miss our church from Illinois. We miss it immensely. The pastor and congregation there prayed for us this morning, and for the rest of the east coast. When someone called and told me that, I cried. My parent's church did the same thing. They prayed for my family! There is nothing more we could ask for.
Moving across the country has proven to be challenging. There are days when it is exciting and I feel accomplished, strong and capeable. Other days, I feel lonely and forgotten. When I feel that way, it is like I am being tortured from within. I wouldn't wish those feelings on anyone. It has nothing to do with my husband or kids, or even if my day was "good" or "bad." It is just a feeling that does its best to creep up on me every now and then. I refer to it as the "alien on another planet" feelling.
So, to all of you who texted me, messaged me, called me, etc...during this frightening time...I thank you from the bottom of my heart. We all do. We felt each and every prayer. I knew that prayers were going up for us all over the United States because we had such peace. It's not that we weren't afraid, or dreading the storm, but we were experiencing the peace deep within us that can only come from God. Not only were we protected, but He calmed the raging storm in our minds and hearts regarding Irene.
We feel loved. We feel "thought of." We feel cherished. As my husband and I were sitting in the living room watching the news last night, in the middle of the night, with the winds raging outside and pounding on our home, I thought of all of you and your prayers and words of encouragement. You all gave us strength for the storm.
Today, we are praising the Lord that the storm has passed and we are able to talk about it tonight because we are here and unharmed!
We thank our Heavenly Father for our friends and family who rode every wave of this storm with us. What a ride it was!
She was my "first" hurricane. It is terrifying to watch the news and hear the authorities and governement officials telling individuals in your area to, "hope for the best, but prepare for the worst." We headed their instructions, and then we watched the television, closely, the path of the storm. We prayed it would just head deep out into the ocean away from all humans, and then simply, disappear.
We listened to the reports that it was headed straight for us. We watched as it viciously ripped through other states before us. We had only two things we could do: wait and pray.
Besides a wet basement, fallen limbs and closed roads all around us, we are fine. We had no real damage to our home. We were kept safe. We are safe. Tonight, I'm not going to go into details about the hurricane. Instead, I am writing to say, "thank you."
In the days leading up to the hurricane, I began getting phone calls, texts, facebook messages and wall posts. They all expressed a common theme. "We love you guys. We are praying for you all. Keep us posted. We're thinking of you all."
Each text, phone call, and facebook post and message meant the world to us. We were trying our best not to be afraid, but when you have no other family around, it's easy to let fear creep in. All of the constant communication from friends and family from Illinois and other areas gave us confidence. We KNEW so many people were praying and beliving for us. So many prayers were going up to the Lord Almighty for us.
We knew we had people all over following the news and tracking Hurricane Irene just to see how close she would be coming to our area. We even had people up throughout the night last night tracking the storm, even as we were sleeping.
We miss our church from Illinois. We miss it immensely. The pastor and congregation there prayed for us this morning, and for the rest of the east coast. When someone called and told me that, I cried. My parent's church did the same thing. They prayed for my family! There is nothing more we could ask for.
Moving across the country has proven to be challenging. There are days when it is exciting and I feel accomplished, strong and capeable. Other days, I feel lonely and forgotten. When I feel that way, it is like I am being tortured from within. I wouldn't wish those feelings on anyone. It has nothing to do with my husband or kids, or even if my day was "good" or "bad." It is just a feeling that does its best to creep up on me every now and then. I refer to it as the "alien on another planet" feelling.
So, to all of you who texted me, messaged me, called me, etc...during this frightening time...I thank you from the bottom of my heart. We all do. We felt each and every prayer. I knew that prayers were going up for us all over the United States because we had such peace. It's not that we weren't afraid, or dreading the storm, but we were experiencing the peace deep within us that can only come from God. Not only were we protected, but He calmed the raging storm in our minds and hearts regarding Irene.
We feel loved. We feel "thought of." We feel cherished. As my husband and I were sitting in the living room watching the news last night, in the middle of the night, with the winds raging outside and pounding on our home, I thought of all of you and your prayers and words of encouragement. You all gave us strength for the storm.
Today, we are praising the Lord that the storm has passed and we are able to talk about it tonight because we are here and unharmed!
We thank our Heavenly Father for our friends and family who rode every wave of this storm with us. What a ride it was!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Days 76-81 *Everything I learned I learned from my animals* (almost everything)
I was looking through old pictures tonight. I stumbled upon some pictures from my childhood. I can't help but smile when I view the photos. What a childhood it was!
I grew up in Kentucky. We raised rabbits and teddy bear hamsters. Our entire backyard was full of rabbit cages. Litters were being born at an astouding rate. Bunnies do "do it" a lot! The bunnies were as cute as can be. We had solid white ones with pink eyes, brown rabbits with big brown eyes, and gorgous black and white rabbits with deep, round black eyes. I would feed and water them, and I would spend some time with them; however, I knew not to spend too much time! I knew that these rabbits were not my pets. They were our food, and they provided food for many other families as well.
When we began raising rabbits, I was young, probably about five, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Honestly, I think I just assumed that mom and dad were being generous in the "pet department." That idea quickly changed one morning when I looked out the kitchen window and saw my dad butchering one of the brown rabbits. Quickly, I learned what the rabbits were for. I learned that their purpose was not so that I could have 75 rabbits to play with. I realized that these rabbits were food to people who would come over and purchase them. They were food for us. Before long, it didn't bother me anymore. I understood and appreciated it. I would sit in the backyard carrying on a conversation with my dad about my school day as he butchered rabbits. It was humane, quick, and I learned a lot about life from raising rabbits.
My dad traveled as a construction worker. He was gone a lot. During those times, my mom and I took care of the rabbits. That meant feeding and watering 50 or more rabbits a couple of times per day. It didn't matter what kind of weather we were having. Rabbits still get hungry and thirsty! The winters were dreadful! My mom would get me up early before school, while it was still dark outside. We would wrap scarves around our heads, and put on hats, gloves, heavy coats, and boots as we would make our way down to the rabbit cages. Every bowl had frozen water...which means thirsty and dehydrated bunnies. We would keep going inside and boiling water in order to thaw out the heavy bowls. The ice would begin to crack, and we'd get a stick and beat the rest of the ice out. Finally, we would pour in fresh water, put pellets in their metal feeders, and return to our warm home for breakfast.
I learned about hard work and that a family is supposed to pull together to accomplish their tasks.
Several times, I remember vividly waking up from a deep sleep due to hearing what resembled children screaming. It wasn't children. It was our rabbits. Wild dogs get hungry, too. They would come in the middle of the night and attack the rabbits. They would press their sharp teeth through the cages and it woud send our rabbits into panic. If you have never hard rabbits "scream," it is eerie. My mom and I would run outside yelling. The dogs would run off, but the damage had already been done. Some of our rabbits would be lying on their sides, because their feet had literally been eaten off. Other rabbits were still, already dead, because the dogs had ripped out pieces of their small bodies. It was heartbreaking. There was only one thing to do in this situation. The rabbits, in pain, needed to be "put down" right away. They were hurting, and it was unfair.
I learned that life is not always fair. Nature can be so cruel. As vicious as it seemed, the wild dogs were not at fault. It's just the way it is.
One day, a beautiful litter was born. Our of all the bunnies, there was one solid white one, and it was big! My parents allowed me to choose one as a pet. It would be my rabbit that was stricly for fun. I chose the big white bunny and named him Thumper. He was one cool bunny. He grew very large. I walked him on a leash and taught him a few tricks. For instance, I'd snap my fingers above his head and he would balance on his hind legs and I would give him a leaf and he would hold it in his mouth as he was balancing! It was quite amazing.
I learned that my parents knew that I had a true love for animals, and they were determined to give me opportunities to foster that love. I also learned that rabbits are much smarter than we think they are!
I had ducks. They were something else. Creatively, I named them Wacky and Quacky. Our backyard was surrounded by woods. There were several large ditches deep in the woods. I would carry Wacky and Quacky into the woods and let them swim around in the deep ditches. Or, I would fill up a huge tin dog tub with water and let them hang out in there. They were interesting pets. They were also dirty! I still can't believe my parents let me attempt to be a duck owner. Nonetheless, they did! I enjoyed it and took care of them to the very best of my ability.
I learned that my parents trusted me. They were willing to let me take chances. Ducks were fun, cute, and filthy.
We were raising rabbits, and that was successful. I enjoyed my ducks. So, I decided it was time for me to raise an animal all on my own. I chose teddy bear hamsters. They were small, furry, and I could fit lots of cages in my bedroom. Keep in mind that we did not own a television. We didn't have video games. We had to be creative, and our parents allowed us these opportunities.
My room began to fill with cages. I had several females and a couple of males. I would breed these hamsters and they would create these adorable jelly-bean like babies. They had no hair. If I accidentally touched the small baby, the mother would eat it. My mom helped me with the cage cleaning. I'm sure she dreaded it, but she did help me with it. I began selling my baby teddy bear hamsters to a local pet shop.
One afternoon, I took a batch of weaned hamsters to the pet shop. Usually, the owner woud take them from me, pay me $0.25 per hamster, and I'd be on my way; however, the afternoon with my dad was different. The owner paid me for my little babies, and walked away with them. I followed him. He took them to a back room, and literally tossed them in a ten gallon aquarium FULL of other hamsters. The hamsters were three and four deep! My babies were just lost in the masses! I believe they were going to be used for snake food.
I stood in disbelief and cried. There was nothing I could do but walk away. He paid for them and they were no longer mine anyway.
I learned that things are not always as though they appear. They were my baby teddy bear hamsters, my responsibility, and it was my "hamster business." I should have asked more questions and scoped out the pet shop better. I also learned that sometimes we just have to move on. There is nothing we can do. We have to suck it up and keep moving.
We also had an enormous orange cat, again, with a very creative name: Tiger. My dad always despised cats. One sunny afternoon, a scrawny, half-dead looking kitten approached. I was instantly in love. I knew he needed us, or else he'd die. I also knew that my dad HATED cats. There was nothing he liked about them. I went to him and just begged. I pleaded my case. He said, "Yes, you can keep him, but he's not coming in the house." We took the scrawny cat home and fattened him up. It started to get cold.
"Dad, can he please come in for a little while?" I asked.
"For awhile." he said.
Within six months, my dad had quite a buddy. Dad woud get home from work and it was obvious how excited he was to see his pal, Tiger. Dad and I would go fishing and I'd use a net and catch baby bluegill, bass, and tiny catfish. We decided to start an aquarium of lake fish. We would feed them pieces of worms and insects. That was an amazing project for a kid! Tiger would balance on top of the ten gallon aquarium and put his giant paw into the water and flop our fish right out onto the floor.
Tiger was a wonderful asset to our family for many years.
I learned that parents, so often, put the love of their children before themselves. I learned that things that start out ugly, skrawny, and unloved, can have that all turned around if someone is willing to love them. This is true for people as well.
My one true love was Nicky. I rode home from elementary school every day with a boy named Shawn's mom. One afternoon, she picked us up from school and there were three puppies in the back of her station wagon. One puppy was black and white and covered with wirey hair. She had a pink and black nose. Could it get any cuter? Her hair almost completely covered her big brown eyes. Shawn's mother was taking me home and then taking the puppies to the pet shelter. I had to have that black and white puppy! She would make my little farm complete.
I took the puppy out of the car and headed up to my front door. My mom came out and, at first, shook her head "no." I showed her this precious pooch and she said, "Go out to the backyard. Your dad is out there. Show him the puppy and look up to him with your puppy dog eyes and say, "Please, daddy."
That's what I did. Dad picked up the puppy by the scruff of her neck. He held her up and looked her over really well.
"I guess we'll keep her. She looks like a fine dog."
Looking back now, I know what a gift she was for me. Intuitively, dad knew that. He knew just by looking at her that we would make an awesome pair.
I named her Nicky. My middle name is Nicole, so, I named her after me!
For years, we were a match made in heaven. She was that childhood dog that one never, ever forgets.
I learned that sometimes, even if we're not thrilled to give in to a request to our kids, just do it anyway, within reason. I learned about the love of a dog and what it means to a kid. I learned about unconditional love and that everything and everybody, for the most part, deserves a second chance. I was Nicky's second chance. She made me a very happy little girl.
When I was ten, my dad got a more permanant job in Illinois. The job meant that we would all be together as a family...my parents, two sister and I; however, we would be moving into an apartment in an unfamiliar area. We knew not one single person in our new location. So, ultimately, it meant that my "farming" days were over. I had to find new homes for all of my loves. I was crushed. My sadness was overwhelming and I hurt all over. Even so, I knew it must be done. Knowing that my family would all be together made it worth it...as painful as it was, I knew it was the right thing to do.
I learned that family is everything. Pets are extremely important, too; however, a family sticks together, even in the most difficult times. I learned that parents, as well as children, ache. When they see their children hurt, they hurt even more.
Dad handled all of the rabbits. I'm not sure where they all went; however, Thumper was my responsibility. I asked my mom's dad if he would be willing to take Thumper. He agreed. He lived in the country. Thumper lived there with him for several years. He had complete freedom. There was a wooden ladder leading into his cage, and he could enter and exit as he pleased. Eventually, he was just gone. He was never to be seen again.
We found homes for all of the teddy bear hamsters.
Our fat orange cat, Tiger, went to a family that we knew pretty well. The wife had been one of my sister's teacher. Tiger was a wonderful pet to that family for many years. They fell in love with him and his antics, just as we had. About three years after we moved, my dad sit us all down and said that he had something to tell us. I remember his words exactly.
He said, "A member of our family has died." My mom, sisters and I just stared at him wide-eyed and scared. He told us that Tiger had lived a great life with his new family, but he was hit by a car and he died instantly. All five of us sit there and cried. It had been three years, and even so, we all cried. I believe we weren't just crying due to Tiger's death. We were crying because we had been through a lot. We picked up, left our extended family, left our precious animals, and moved, so that we could all be together as a family, with dad at home with us. A precious piece of our past was gone, and it was heartbreaing.
We drove my ducks, Wacky and Quacky out to a farm. There was a big pond and other animals roaming around. I kept seeing this big dog running freely. Right before we left the farm I distinctly remember saying, "I hope that dog doesn't hurt one of my ducks." Well, he enjoyed not one duck, but both of them.
Last, but certainly not least, was Nicky. I had to find her a home. I loved her so much. My dad's friend told us that his parents had a dog named Nicky that had recently died of old age. We asked if they were interested, and they were. My mom and I went out and bought Nicky a new pink collar and leash so that she would look beautiful when we handed her over to her new owners. I remember the drive as if it were yesterday. I had Nicky's leash and we got out of the car. We walked up to the lady. As I began to hand over the leash, I began sobbing uncontrollably and just ran back to the car. I never looked back. I think I cried for days.
About a year later, I had a dream that something was wrong with Nicky and I pleaded with my mom to call her owner. Sure enough, Nicky had been hit by a car and lost one of her legs. She was managing, though. She ended up living out her last years with them. They would send me pictures of my girl, and I still have them.
What did I learn from all of that? Life is hard, but it is also FABULOUS! I'm sure you've heard the quote, "It's better to have loved and lost, then to never have loved at all." How true that is!
As much as we would love to change things...some things just can't be changed. We have to accept certain things, and then move on.
I learned that kids can grow up with no television, or name brand clothes, or video games, and still thrive!
I learned that sometimes, the things we go through in life that are the most difficult, make us stronger, smarter, and more sensitive to others.
I learned that family is everything. Families must stick together, work together, laugh together, and even cry together.
I learned that children are capeable of work. They need to know that hard work is important. It will not hurt them. It will make them strong and capeable members of society.
Some things in life are just simply unfair. It's just that simple.
I certainly learned the value of a dollar.
On a lighter not, I learned about the breeding habits of rabbits and hamsters. I learned that when rabbits are mating, the male begins to stomp so hard that the noise can be heard from a great distance! I learned that, unfortunatley, sometimes animal mommy's can be more nurturing than human mommys. I can easily tell you every internal organ of a rabbit, show you how to butcher them, skin them, and fry them.
I learned how it feels, as a young girl, to get home and have a wirey-haired black and white mutt be so happy to see you that she couldn't contain herself! The fact that I was home, was all she needed.
I learned that my parents thought I was pretty special to let me learn all of these great things. I wouldn't trade any of it for anything.
**Ten years ago, we took our daughter to an animal shelter. She picked out a skrawny orange kitten. Out of all the names in the world, she named him, Tiger! It was time for us to move to New York. The vet worried about a cat Tiger's age traveling such a distance. So...time to find a home for another cat that we loved so dearly...one named Tiger! Graciously, my parents said, "We'll take Tiger." It was music to my ears. Even if they weren't consciously thinking of it, I believe, in their hearts, they remember very well the pain we all felt when we moved from Kentucky 25 years ago, and had to give our very own Tiger away.
So, now, they are caring for my daughter's cat, Tiger. They are spoiling him rotten, and he is driving them crazy, but they love him, and that's all I need to know!
I grew up in Kentucky. We raised rabbits and teddy bear hamsters. Our entire backyard was full of rabbit cages. Litters were being born at an astouding rate. Bunnies do "do it" a lot! The bunnies were as cute as can be. We had solid white ones with pink eyes, brown rabbits with big brown eyes, and gorgous black and white rabbits with deep, round black eyes. I would feed and water them, and I would spend some time with them; however, I knew not to spend too much time! I knew that these rabbits were not my pets. They were our food, and they provided food for many other families as well.
When we began raising rabbits, I was young, probably about five, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Honestly, I think I just assumed that mom and dad were being generous in the "pet department." That idea quickly changed one morning when I looked out the kitchen window and saw my dad butchering one of the brown rabbits. Quickly, I learned what the rabbits were for. I learned that their purpose was not so that I could have 75 rabbits to play with. I realized that these rabbits were food to people who would come over and purchase them. They were food for us. Before long, it didn't bother me anymore. I understood and appreciated it. I would sit in the backyard carrying on a conversation with my dad about my school day as he butchered rabbits. It was humane, quick, and I learned a lot about life from raising rabbits.
My dad traveled as a construction worker. He was gone a lot. During those times, my mom and I took care of the rabbits. That meant feeding and watering 50 or more rabbits a couple of times per day. It didn't matter what kind of weather we were having. Rabbits still get hungry and thirsty! The winters were dreadful! My mom would get me up early before school, while it was still dark outside. We would wrap scarves around our heads, and put on hats, gloves, heavy coats, and boots as we would make our way down to the rabbit cages. Every bowl had frozen water...which means thirsty and dehydrated bunnies. We would keep going inside and boiling water in order to thaw out the heavy bowls. The ice would begin to crack, and we'd get a stick and beat the rest of the ice out. Finally, we would pour in fresh water, put pellets in their metal feeders, and return to our warm home for breakfast.
I learned about hard work and that a family is supposed to pull together to accomplish their tasks.
Several times, I remember vividly waking up from a deep sleep due to hearing what resembled children screaming. It wasn't children. It was our rabbits. Wild dogs get hungry, too. They would come in the middle of the night and attack the rabbits. They would press their sharp teeth through the cages and it woud send our rabbits into panic. If you have never hard rabbits "scream," it is eerie. My mom and I would run outside yelling. The dogs would run off, but the damage had already been done. Some of our rabbits would be lying on their sides, because their feet had literally been eaten off. Other rabbits were still, already dead, because the dogs had ripped out pieces of their small bodies. It was heartbreaking. There was only one thing to do in this situation. The rabbits, in pain, needed to be "put down" right away. They were hurting, and it was unfair.
I learned that life is not always fair. Nature can be so cruel. As vicious as it seemed, the wild dogs were not at fault. It's just the way it is.
One day, a beautiful litter was born. Our of all the bunnies, there was one solid white one, and it was big! My parents allowed me to choose one as a pet. It would be my rabbit that was stricly for fun. I chose the big white bunny and named him Thumper. He was one cool bunny. He grew very large. I walked him on a leash and taught him a few tricks. For instance, I'd snap my fingers above his head and he would balance on his hind legs and I would give him a leaf and he would hold it in his mouth as he was balancing! It was quite amazing.
I learned that my parents knew that I had a true love for animals, and they were determined to give me opportunities to foster that love. I also learned that rabbits are much smarter than we think they are!
I had ducks. They were something else. Creatively, I named them Wacky and Quacky. Our backyard was surrounded by woods. There were several large ditches deep in the woods. I would carry Wacky and Quacky into the woods and let them swim around in the deep ditches. Or, I would fill up a huge tin dog tub with water and let them hang out in there. They were interesting pets. They were also dirty! I still can't believe my parents let me attempt to be a duck owner. Nonetheless, they did! I enjoyed it and took care of them to the very best of my ability.
I learned that my parents trusted me. They were willing to let me take chances. Ducks were fun, cute, and filthy.
My room began to fill with cages. I had several females and a couple of males. I would breed these hamsters and they would create these adorable jelly-bean like babies. They had no hair. If I accidentally touched the small baby, the mother would eat it. My mom helped me with the cage cleaning. I'm sure she dreaded it, but she did help me with it. I began selling my baby teddy bear hamsters to a local pet shop.
One afternoon, I took a batch of weaned hamsters to the pet shop. Usually, the owner woud take them from me, pay me $0.25 per hamster, and I'd be on my way; however, the afternoon with my dad was different. The owner paid me for my little babies, and walked away with them. I followed him. He took them to a back room, and literally tossed them in a ten gallon aquarium FULL of other hamsters. The hamsters were three and four deep! My babies were just lost in the masses! I believe they were going to be used for snake food.
I stood in disbelief and cried. There was nothing I could do but walk away. He paid for them and they were no longer mine anyway.
I learned that things are not always as though they appear. They were my baby teddy bear hamsters, my responsibility, and it was my "hamster business." I should have asked more questions and scoped out the pet shop better. I also learned that sometimes we just have to move on. There is nothing we can do. We have to suck it up and keep moving.
We also had an enormous orange cat, again, with a very creative name: Tiger. My dad always despised cats. One sunny afternoon, a scrawny, half-dead looking kitten approached. I was instantly in love. I knew he needed us, or else he'd die. I also knew that my dad HATED cats. There was nothing he liked about them. I went to him and just begged. I pleaded my case. He said, "Yes, you can keep him, but he's not coming in the house." We took the scrawny cat home and fattened him up. It started to get cold.
"Dad, can he please come in for a little while?" I asked.
"For awhile." he said.
Within six months, my dad had quite a buddy. Dad woud get home from work and it was obvious how excited he was to see his pal, Tiger. Dad and I would go fishing and I'd use a net and catch baby bluegill, bass, and tiny catfish. We decided to start an aquarium of lake fish. We would feed them pieces of worms and insects. That was an amazing project for a kid! Tiger would balance on top of the ten gallon aquarium and put his giant paw into the water and flop our fish right out onto the floor.
Tiger was a wonderful asset to our family for many years.
I learned that parents, so often, put the love of their children before themselves. I learned that things that start out ugly, skrawny, and unloved, can have that all turned around if someone is willing to love them. This is true for people as well.
My one true love was Nicky. I rode home from elementary school every day with a boy named Shawn's mom. One afternoon, she picked us up from school and there were three puppies in the back of her station wagon. One puppy was black and white and covered with wirey hair. She had a pink and black nose. Could it get any cuter? Her hair almost completely covered her big brown eyes. Shawn's mother was taking me home and then taking the puppies to the pet shelter. I had to have that black and white puppy! She would make my little farm complete.
I took the puppy out of the car and headed up to my front door. My mom came out and, at first, shook her head "no." I showed her this precious pooch and she said, "Go out to the backyard. Your dad is out there. Show him the puppy and look up to him with your puppy dog eyes and say, "Please, daddy."
That's what I did. Dad picked up the puppy by the scruff of her neck. He held her up and looked her over really well.
"I guess we'll keep her. She looks like a fine dog."
Looking back now, I know what a gift she was for me. Intuitively, dad knew that. He knew just by looking at her that we would make an awesome pair.
I named her Nicky. My middle name is Nicole, so, I named her after me!
For years, we were a match made in heaven. She was that childhood dog that one never, ever forgets.
I learned that sometimes, even if we're not thrilled to give in to a request to our kids, just do it anyway, within reason. I learned about the love of a dog and what it means to a kid. I learned about unconditional love and that everything and everybody, for the most part, deserves a second chance. I was Nicky's second chance. She made me a very happy little girl.
When I was ten, my dad got a more permanant job in Illinois. The job meant that we would all be together as a family...my parents, two sister and I; however, we would be moving into an apartment in an unfamiliar area. We knew not one single person in our new location. So, ultimately, it meant that my "farming" days were over. I had to find new homes for all of my loves. I was crushed. My sadness was overwhelming and I hurt all over. Even so, I knew it must be done. Knowing that my family would all be together made it worth it...as painful as it was, I knew it was the right thing to do.
I learned that family is everything. Pets are extremely important, too; however, a family sticks together, even in the most difficult times. I learned that parents, as well as children, ache. When they see their children hurt, they hurt even more.
Dad handled all of the rabbits. I'm not sure where they all went; however, Thumper was my responsibility. I asked my mom's dad if he would be willing to take Thumper. He agreed. He lived in the country. Thumper lived there with him for several years. He had complete freedom. There was a wooden ladder leading into his cage, and he could enter and exit as he pleased. Eventually, he was just gone. He was never to be seen again.
We found homes for all of the teddy bear hamsters.
Our fat orange cat, Tiger, went to a family that we knew pretty well. The wife had been one of my sister's teacher. Tiger was a wonderful pet to that family for many years. They fell in love with him and his antics, just as we had. About three years after we moved, my dad sit us all down and said that he had something to tell us. I remember his words exactly.
He said, "A member of our family has died." My mom, sisters and I just stared at him wide-eyed and scared. He told us that Tiger had lived a great life with his new family, but he was hit by a car and he died instantly. All five of us sit there and cried. It had been three years, and even so, we all cried. I believe we weren't just crying due to Tiger's death. We were crying because we had been through a lot. We picked up, left our extended family, left our precious animals, and moved, so that we could all be together as a family, with dad at home with us. A precious piece of our past was gone, and it was heartbreaing.
We drove my ducks, Wacky and Quacky out to a farm. There was a big pond and other animals roaming around. I kept seeing this big dog running freely. Right before we left the farm I distinctly remember saying, "I hope that dog doesn't hurt one of my ducks." Well, he enjoyed not one duck, but both of them.
Last, but certainly not least, was Nicky. I had to find her a home. I loved her so much. My dad's friend told us that his parents had a dog named Nicky that had recently died of old age. We asked if they were interested, and they were. My mom and I went out and bought Nicky a new pink collar and leash so that she would look beautiful when we handed her over to her new owners. I remember the drive as if it were yesterday. I had Nicky's leash and we got out of the car. We walked up to the lady. As I began to hand over the leash, I began sobbing uncontrollably and just ran back to the car. I never looked back. I think I cried for days.
About a year later, I had a dream that something was wrong with Nicky and I pleaded with my mom to call her owner. Sure enough, Nicky had been hit by a car and lost one of her legs. She was managing, though. She ended up living out her last years with them. They would send me pictures of my girl, and I still have them.
What did I learn from all of that? Life is hard, but it is also FABULOUS! I'm sure you've heard the quote, "It's better to have loved and lost, then to never have loved at all." How true that is!
As much as we would love to change things...some things just can't be changed. We have to accept certain things, and then move on.
I learned that kids can grow up with no television, or name brand clothes, or video games, and still thrive!
I learned that sometimes, the things we go through in life that are the most difficult, make us stronger, smarter, and more sensitive to others.
I learned that family is everything. Families must stick together, work together, laugh together, and even cry together.
I learned that children are capeable of work. They need to know that hard work is important. It will not hurt them. It will make them strong and capeable members of society.
Some things in life are just simply unfair. It's just that simple.
I certainly learned the value of a dollar.
On a lighter not, I learned about the breeding habits of rabbits and hamsters. I learned that when rabbits are mating, the male begins to stomp so hard that the noise can be heard from a great distance! I learned that, unfortunatley, sometimes animal mommy's can be more nurturing than human mommys. I can easily tell you every internal organ of a rabbit, show you how to butcher them, skin them, and fry them.
I learned how it feels, as a young girl, to get home and have a wirey-haired black and white mutt be so happy to see you that she couldn't contain herself! The fact that I was home, was all she needed.
I learned that my parents thought I was pretty special to let me learn all of these great things. I wouldn't trade any of it for anything.
**Ten years ago, we took our daughter to an animal shelter. She picked out a skrawny orange kitten. Out of all the names in the world, she named him, Tiger! It was time for us to move to New York. The vet worried about a cat Tiger's age traveling such a distance. So...time to find a home for another cat that we loved so dearly...one named Tiger! Graciously, my parents said, "We'll take Tiger." It was music to my ears. Even if they weren't consciously thinking of it, I believe, in their hearts, they remember very well the pain we all felt when we moved from Kentucky 25 years ago, and had to give our very own Tiger away.
So, now, they are caring for my daughter's cat, Tiger. They are spoiling him rotten, and he is driving them crazy, but they love him, and that's all I need to know!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)