Our house resembles an infant daycare. It is astounding to me that one 8 lb. child needs so much equipment. Well, maybe I should qualify that....maybe it is not so much need, as want....or maybe it is a combination of both. At any rate, having adopted my bundle at the age of 2 did not bring on things like swings and Pack n Plays and changing tables....oh my!
My daughter and I have successfully read a lot of directions and used our brand new, handy-dandy electric screwdriver many times and in many ways. As a team, we work well together. I am convinced that this equipment comes in several small pieces as a practice for parenthood. If the caregivers can successfully maneuver the directions that are written in five different languages, come out even on all of the screws and bolts, and snap the sides of the pack n play before they push down on the bottom, they may have some success at 2 am when the baby decides to clear out his lungs for no apparent reason....
We shall see.
Baby time is coming soon. The baby shower is this weekend, and my fun and entertainment for Saturday surrounds installing three car seat bases in three different models of cars.
Pray for me.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Want to see the crib in my crib?
There is a crib in our crib. We have successfully constructed a crib, put together a swing, found sufficient storage for diapers, and decided how and where we are going to bathe this little boy, feed this little boy, and change this little boy's diaper. My daughter's belly is growing at a fast rate of speed as this little guy is really making his appearance known. It is starting to look like a nursery around here, and the dogs are sufficiently confused.
There have been some "owies" lately and reality is hitting hard for my daughter, I fear.
She is starting to realize that her life is never going to be the same. But, at the same time she is truly excited about what is to come.
I am planning on letting her make her own decisions about how "normal" she is going to be. However, I am adamant about the fact that she is going to have some "Senior Year" memories. I want her to have the opportunity to be a 18 year old senior - senior girls overnight, senior skip day, swimming, and fast pitch. She is smart enough and has her academic act together enough to be able to be a good Mom and have a memorable senior year. I will support her through this. I do not want her to have any regrets - a baby should not be a regret.
As a family, we will get through this and bring her and her child out on the other side. I am committed to setting her up to be able to raise this child as a single parent, if that is the will - and in order to give her son a life that he deserves, she needs to obtain a career that involves post-high school education - college has always been the goal and continues to be the goal.
We just have someone else along for the ride.
There have been some "owies" lately and reality is hitting hard for my daughter, I fear.
- The band went on tour without her - she could have gone, but 20+ hours on a bus would not have been too comfortable for her at this point - and she may have taken up more than her allotted time in the bathroom. She worked for this trip and looked forward to it for three years - it was the first of many things that will change for her now. She handled it maturely and I was proud of her for that.
- Prom night is on the night she is due to give birth. Needless to say, she will not be attending.
- And, the biggest hit for her thus far....fast pitch started last Monday. The start of the fast pitch season was hard on her. She has plans to go to every home game she can and to help out when she can, and she is still planning on getting back into shape by playing summer ball.
She is starting to realize that her life is never going to be the same. But, at the same time she is truly excited about what is to come.
I am planning on letting her make her own decisions about how "normal" she is going to be. However, I am adamant about the fact that she is going to have some "Senior Year" memories. I want her to have the opportunity to be a 18 year old senior - senior girls overnight, senior skip day, swimming, and fast pitch. She is smart enough and has her academic act together enough to be able to be a good Mom and have a memorable senior year. I will support her through this. I do not want her to have any regrets - a baby should not be a regret.
As a family, we will get through this and bring her and her child out on the other side. I am committed to setting her up to be able to raise this child as a single parent, if that is the will - and in order to give her son a life that he deserves, she needs to obtain a career that involves post-high school education - college has always been the goal and continues to be the goal.
We just have someone else along for the ride.
What a week...What a time....
Last week was quite the week. The week surrounding March 17, and in fact this time of year, is always bittersweet for me. And this year, it seems that every normal emotion is magnified by about 10 - so it is quite the ride at times.
I am finally coming to the end of a major home overhaul. The whole process of going through the house, one drawer and one closet at a time, and moving out the old in preparation for the new has been exhausting, very rewarding, but surprisingly, quite emotional. I have watched those "Hoarder" shows on TV, and even though that was never my problem, I did always wonder how people could get so emotional about getting rid of what was obviously, at least to me and most viewers, complete and total junk. However, in the process of getting rid of many bags of garbage and/or Salvation Army items, I did figure out that my junk was sometimes special to me...junk, but special junk, none-the-less. However, unlike the people on the shows, I was able to move the special junk out the door at quite the rate of speed...I mean really, enough is enough. And, my special junk will look better in somebody else's house, or even on top of a shiny pile at the landfill.
In the midst of carpet replacement, carpet cleaning, laminate installation, and painting almost the entire house, I kept thinking about my Dad. For you see, seven years ago, last Thursday, March 17 - St. Patrick's Day - he left my world and left me with a permanent hole in my soul that will never completely fill.
Dad was the calm in the midst of the storm. The last time I did a major renovation on my house, he took on the role of "contractor." He dealt with the carpenter and the electrician and he hauled in dry wall with my very ambitious 8 year old - I will always remember when I called him in tears because I could not figure out how to get the linoleum to fit under the toilet and he came over and laid on my tiny bathroom floor and helped me. He truly enjoyed being a Dad - even when his youngest child was a whiny 38 year old....
I think about him often these days. I wonder how he would have dealt with my daughter and the pending baby. I long for his calm demeanor and sound advise. I yearn for his unyielding faith - something that I really could have used at times during all of this. My daughter and my Dad had a very special relationship. He no-doubt would have been disappointed by all of this, but he also, no-doubt, would have stood behind her for support. He would have given everything he had for all of his Grandchildren, and that I am certain of. He did give everything he had for his children - that I know.
March 17 is also the anniversary of the first time I ever met my daughter. This year it was the 15th anniversary. It serves as a reminder that life is truly a circle. The best thing that ever happened to me and the worst thing that ever happened to me, so far, all happened on March 17.
In the midst of preparing our house, and ourselves for the adventure that lies before us, I remind myself of that day 15 years ago... I walked up these dingy stairs, and down this brutally long hall and into a waiting area. The caretaker at the orphanage opened a door and there were 20 little children - the girls in wool plaid dresses and tights, and the boys in tights and jumpers, sitting at little tables, eating coffee and yogurt out of tin enamel cups with little pieces of toast. There were about six tables of toddlers, and halfway across the room I spotted her. She had this starkly cut blond hair and the biggest, grayest, eyes with the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. She was trying to get all of the yogurt out of that cup, and she was trying hard to eat that hard piece of toast. She was terrified and expressionless - but she was mine....somehow, she almost instantly knew that things were never going be the same again...we had finally found each other and we were a family.
I am finally coming to the end of a major home overhaul. The whole process of going through the house, one drawer and one closet at a time, and moving out the old in preparation for the new has been exhausting, very rewarding, but surprisingly, quite emotional. I have watched those "Hoarder" shows on TV, and even though that was never my problem, I did always wonder how people could get so emotional about getting rid of what was obviously, at least to me and most viewers, complete and total junk. However, in the process of getting rid of many bags of garbage and/or Salvation Army items, I did figure out that my junk was sometimes special to me...junk, but special junk, none-the-less. However, unlike the people on the shows, I was able to move the special junk out the door at quite the rate of speed...I mean really, enough is enough. And, my special junk will look better in somebody else's house, or even on top of a shiny pile at the landfill.
In the midst of carpet replacement, carpet cleaning, laminate installation, and painting almost the entire house, I kept thinking about my Dad. For you see, seven years ago, last Thursday, March 17 - St. Patrick's Day - he left my world and left me with a permanent hole in my soul that will never completely fill.
Dad was the calm in the midst of the storm. The last time I did a major renovation on my house, he took on the role of "contractor." He dealt with the carpenter and the electrician and he hauled in dry wall with my very ambitious 8 year old - I will always remember when I called him in tears because I could not figure out how to get the linoleum to fit under the toilet and he came over and laid on my tiny bathroom floor and helped me. He truly enjoyed being a Dad - even when his youngest child was a whiny 38 year old....
I think about him often these days. I wonder how he would have dealt with my daughter and the pending baby. I long for his calm demeanor and sound advise. I yearn for his unyielding faith - something that I really could have used at times during all of this. My daughter and my Dad had a very special relationship. He no-doubt would have been disappointed by all of this, but he also, no-doubt, would have stood behind her for support. He would have given everything he had for all of his Grandchildren, and that I am certain of. He did give everything he had for his children - that I know.
March 17 is also the anniversary of the first time I ever met my daughter. This year it was the 15th anniversary. It serves as a reminder that life is truly a circle. The best thing that ever happened to me and the worst thing that ever happened to me, so far, all happened on March 17.
In the midst of preparing our house, and ourselves for the adventure that lies before us, I remind myself of that day 15 years ago... I walked up these dingy stairs, and down this brutally long hall and into a waiting area. The caretaker at the orphanage opened a door and there were 20 little children - the girls in wool plaid dresses and tights, and the boys in tights and jumpers, sitting at little tables, eating coffee and yogurt out of tin enamel cups with little pieces of toast. There were about six tables of toddlers, and halfway across the room I spotted her. She had this starkly cut blond hair and the biggest, grayest, eyes with the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. She was trying to get all of the yogurt out of that cup, and she was trying hard to eat that hard piece of toast. She was terrified and expressionless - but she was mine....somehow, she almost instantly knew that things were never going be the same again...we had finally found each other and we were a family.
Monday, March 14, 2011
There is a reason why I adopted a child.
The truth is that I always wanted to have a biological child. I would say that it was one of my Top 5 Life Goals when I was younger. I wanted to be pregnant and experience childbirth. But, if I was going to do that, then I wanted to do it with my husband. Having a biological child, for me, was not going to happen without a husband. Go figure.
My Number One Life Goal is not a secret. I wanted a child. I decided when I was about 18 years old that if I was not married by age 30, I would adopt a child. I put the adoption papers into the mailbox at the Post Office in Greeley, CO on August 13, 1994 - my 30th birthday. Crazy.
By the time I went through the adoption process, I had the privilege of watching a baby be born...one of my clients had a baby when I was a social worker, and I was the birth coach. It is an experience that I am eternally grateful to have had at this point in my life. If I was going into this without having had that experience, I am sure the anxiety would be even more intense than it is already. However, the client was not my daughter, and the absolute center of my life. The thought of watching her be in so much pain is beyond my comprehension...and believe me, I am trying to comprehend it.
As my daughter's belly grows to unbelievable proportions, and as I watch and feel that little guy (who has a name at this point) move around so purposefully and vigorously inside of her, I can feel the anxiety increasing by the second. It is such a mix of sheer excitement and unbridled terror. I am sure that it is as close to what my daughter is going through as I can get without having gone through it myself....
I know that the next seven weeks, give or take, are going to be interesting, to say the least, but I have to say that for the first time ever I am saying with a bit of confidence that we are going to be as ready as possible and the love that is bouncing all over this house will land firmly in that little guy's heart immediately - no doubt about it.
My Number One Life Goal is not a secret. I wanted a child. I decided when I was about 18 years old that if I was not married by age 30, I would adopt a child. I put the adoption papers into the mailbox at the Post Office in Greeley, CO on August 13, 1994 - my 30th birthday. Crazy.
By the time I went through the adoption process, I had the privilege of watching a baby be born...one of my clients had a baby when I was a social worker, and I was the birth coach. It is an experience that I am eternally grateful to have had at this point in my life. If I was going into this without having had that experience, I am sure the anxiety would be even more intense than it is already. However, the client was not my daughter, and the absolute center of my life. The thought of watching her be in so much pain is beyond my comprehension...and believe me, I am trying to comprehend it.
As my daughter's belly grows to unbelievable proportions, and as I watch and feel that little guy (who has a name at this point) move around so purposefully and vigorously inside of her, I can feel the anxiety increasing by the second. It is such a mix of sheer excitement and unbridled terror. I am sure that it is as close to what my daughter is going through as I can get without having gone through it myself....
I know that the next seven weeks, give or take, are going to be interesting, to say the least, but I have to say that for the first time ever I am saying with a bit of confidence that we are going to be as ready as possible and the love that is bouncing all over this house will land firmly in that little guy's heart immediately - no doubt about it.
I know an old lady who lives in a shoe.....
My daughter and I have a cozy two bedroom house. It challenges our organizational skills in a daily-basis. We also have two beagles. The house was stretching it's limits with the four of us...and, with our priorities going toward other "at the moment" items like cars, sports, and various teenager activities, the house was put on the back-burner. I always made a conscious decision to put the house off until my daughter was off to college and I could focus on things that did not seem quite as important at the moment.
Now, the house has become the center of everything we need to do. Our "on the go" lifestyle is going to become more centered again, and in a quick hurry. We are in the midst of finding a place for everything, and everything in its place. We are suddenly doing crazy things like changing out carpet, cleaning carpet, laying new floors, and painting...painting, painting and painting. The garbage man is getting a workout and the Salvation Army could open a separate outlet for our stuff.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I had a gastric by-pass almost three years ago. I lost almost 200 lbs. I still have some weight to lose, but I feel good. Physically, I feel as good, or even better than I have since high school. I have not gained a bunch of weight since all of this went down, and in the past that certainly would have happened.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who was very angry and was just on the brink of true rebellion before all of this happened. We is recognizing that we need each other and she and I have become quite close since all of this occurred. It is ironic to say, and a needlework project may have worked fine for me, but God was aware that we needed a common goal to bring us together. We have a common goal - to do the best by this little boy that we possibly can.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who is recognizing the fact that parenthood is going to be a mind-blowing, on her knees experience that is probably going to be taken on by her alone - as a single-parent. She has made some extremely mature observations about the father of her baby, and she is prepared to to the absolute best for her little boy. She sees a future for her and her son that involves marriage someday - but to someone who is prepared to love her, and her son with every responsible and understanding bone of their body. She wants to make her life better for her and her son. She has realistic goals that involve high school graduation, college, and work.
It is a very gratifying situation.
For the first time in a few years, I am looking forward to having people come into my house. I am proud of our house and I am excited to show off all of our hard work. As with all houses, it is a constant work-in-progress, but we are going to make this little house work for the FIVE of us.
It is a very gratifying situation.
Now, the house has become the center of everything we need to do. Our "on the go" lifestyle is going to become more centered again, and in a quick hurry. We are in the midst of finding a place for everything, and everything in its place. We are suddenly doing crazy things like changing out carpet, cleaning carpet, laying new floors, and painting...painting, painting and painting. The garbage man is getting a workout and the Salvation Army could open a separate outlet for our stuff.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I had a gastric by-pass almost three years ago. I lost almost 200 lbs. I still have some weight to lose, but I feel good. Physically, I feel as good, or even better than I have since high school. I have not gained a bunch of weight since all of this went down, and in the past that certainly would have happened.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who was very angry and was just on the brink of true rebellion before all of this happened. We is recognizing that we need each other and she and I have become quite close since all of this occurred. It is ironic to say, and a needlework project may have worked fine for me, but God was aware that we needed a common goal to bring us together. We have a common goal - to do the best by this little boy that we possibly can.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who is recognizing the fact that parenthood is going to be a mind-blowing, on her knees experience that is probably going to be taken on by her alone - as a single-parent. She has made some extremely mature observations about the father of her baby, and she is prepared to to the absolute best for her little boy. She sees a future for her and her son that involves marriage someday - but to someone who is prepared to love her, and her son with every responsible and understanding bone of their body. She wants to make her life better for her and her son. She has realistic goals that involve high school graduation, college, and work.
It is a very gratifying situation.
For the first time in a few years, I am looking forward to having people come into my house. I am proud of our house and I am excited to show off all of our hard work. As with all houses, it is a constant work-in-progress, but we are going to make this little house work for the FIVE of us.
It is a very gratifying situation.
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