Tuesday, August 14, 2018

An unplanned walk down memory lane

Today we moved Kate into college to begin her sophomore year. She's got a busy schedule of mentoring, serving, leading, learning, building relationships, and just having fun. I have no fears for her, not really. She's proven that she's quite capable of succeeding mightily at this whole college life. There were no tears at drop-off, just happy good-byes and tight hugs as she went to relax before her first meeting and we drove the 2 hours back down the mountains to home.

Tonight I drove Lydia to her first official soccer practice of the new season. This new club team she's playing with practices sometimes at a field behind our local elementary. Instead of dropping her off, I chose to stay and walk a few laps around the park and school.

The school has been there for awhile, but there's a whole newish complex behind it with soccer and softball fields and a really fun-looking playground. It occurred to me that my kids would have loved it when they were little and suddenly they were there--two little shadow girls climbing and running and calling, "Mommy, watch me!"

As I walked around the complex, I saw Kate grow up again in my memory.

I saw her on the spinny stools on the playground that she both loved and feared, which was what made them so exciting.

I saw her in the kids riding scooters and bikes along the path. I saw her once again riding away down the street, finally losing the training wheels so she could keep up with the neighborhood kids.

I saw her grumpily walking around the parking lot as some in her 4th grade class had been talking yet again so everyone had to walk laps instead of play at recess. That was her one short foray into public school.

I saw her in the father and daughter walking out onto the field with a bucket of balls and a gear bag almost larger than herself. I saw her unconsciously poke out her tongue and wrinkle her freckled nose in concentration as she learned to swing for the fences.

I saw her in the teens as they raced after the soccer ball, ponytails flying in the gathering darkness.

And I saw her as they climbed into cars and drove away.

I am not usually one for nostalgia and each new stage is my new favorite, but tonight it was good for my mama heart to remember.

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Thoughts on Adoption

Last year, I was trying to help another writer understand the process of adoption as it relates to our adoption into the family of God. I ended up writing a whole essay on it and I wanted a place to share it publicly. So while this blog has been quiet enough for long enough that I don't know if anyone still reads it, it is at least publicly available. So here it is for your edification and reading pleasure.
My daughter L is adopted.
God planted the seed for adoption in both Will and I before we ever married, but took a radio ad and a lot of time and consideration before we actually did anything about it. When we plunged into the process, we had no idea how long and complicated and demanding it would be. We started in September of 2003 and, over the next 2 years, we attended training sessions, read books and online discussion boards, got shots and tests, chased down documents from all over the country, persuaded law enforcement and doctors and notaries and social workers to go way out of their way to help us, and opened our home and our lives to investigation and probing. It was long periods of agonizing waiting filled with short spurts of frantic activity. It was decisions made by others halfway around the world and maddening delays that kept our child trapped in an orphanage while we fretted and waited and waited and waited.
Do you know what L was doing this whole time? When we began the adoption process, she had not even been born. While we worked to bring her home, she was growing, playing, learning, living her life as she knew it. Adoption was not a concept that she would have been able to understand. She did not know of her need for a permanent family. She had no idea what a family was and how much it could mean to her. In fact, if left to follow her own desires, she would never have chosen to be pulled from her familiar orphanage environment to be handed over to these strange people who didn’t look or sound or smell like anything she had ever known.
Eventually we got to the point in the adoption where we had an identified child. We had decided to go the special needs track and our agency had a list of 10 children. Each child had a gender, birth month and year, and a few sentences about their special need and we were required to choose and apply for only one. How on earth do you *choose* which one will be your child? After prayer and careful consideration, we selected the youngest girl because her age and special need of a heart defect would mean we wouldn’t have to redo our home study (and then we still had to redo it). The adoption agency approved the match, then for the next 8 months, we had a few pictures, a one page description, and a daughter living in an orphanage on the other side of the planet.
We knew little about L and yet we knew she was our daughter. God had arranged for her to be born to other parents half a world away, but he had always known she would be our daughter. We loved her without knowing her. She didn’t have to earn our love. There was nothing she could be or do that would have caused us to not complete the adoption and bring her home. The adoption was our idea. We did all the work, made all the efforts, took all the responsibility. Even after the adoption was completed, we still did all the work and took all the responsibility. When she screamed in anger those first few days, when we had to teach her boundaries, when we had to guide her to understand the correlation between actions and consequences, it was all on us. Even now, all these years later, we are still taking the responsibility and there is still nothing she could do or be that would cause us to break our promise to love and care for her.
Knowing and participating in the process of adoption has given me a much clearer picture of how God pursued and adopted me. God did all the work and took all the responsibility before I was saved. Before salvation, I had no understanding of what salvation was or why I needed it. True understanding was not possible for me. Like a child, I would have chosen what was familiar, too stubborn and uncomprehending to take the risk and choose what is infinitely better. God had to reach out and take me for himself.

If we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. (C.S. Lewis, “The Weight of Glory”)

Even now that I am a child of God, my job is that of a child. God continues to take on all the work and responsibility. God does give me rules that are designed to keep me safe and I should follow them because things will go better for me if I do, but God doesn’t love me because I follow those rules. They are for my benefit, not for my acceptance. I still have a hard time remembering and believing that on a regular basis, but, like a child, I can rest in the fact that God will take care of everything.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

The Great Room Swap of 2017

The girls are switching bedrooms.

L's room is right over our bedroom and so we're regularly treated to thumps and bangs above our heads. K is quieter and moving out in a few months for college, so I bribed them to switch rooms by offering mini makeovers. I had promised we would work on this over their school's winter break and the time has arrived.

The had all kinds of plans and ideas and were checking out Pinterest. Look at this! Oh, this is so cute!

Then I brought them back to reality. They could negotiate between themselves as to who gets what furniture, but I'm not buying any. There are 3 beds, 2 dressers, 2 desks, numerous cabinets and shelves. Plenty to accommodate their needs without adding anything new from Ikea.

Then I gave them each a fixed budget. Everything they need or want has to come out of that budget and I am accounting for every single penny. The only thing I agreed to buy that didn't count against their budgets was paint.

At first they were all, "Yea! So much money!" Then they started looking at how much the stuff they wanted cost and suddenly they realized that the money wasn't going to keep up with their imaginations. They had decided to switch beds so they both need new bedding, which is more expensive than you think. Wall decor? Expensive. Shelves? Expensive. Even if you settle for the cheaper options, they still add up quickly.

It's been fun watching them figure out what they're willing to spend money on. We wandered around Target yesterday and a number of things went into the cart only to come right back out. Today, we spent several hours spray painting desk legs and bulletin boards and lamps because the girls realized that it's cheaper to paint your old things than buy new ones. And I had agreed to pay for paint.

The room swap that I wanted and the makeovers that the girls wanted have turned into a valuable life lesson in finance, in weighing what you want versus what you're willing to live with, in being creative and doing things yourself in order to save money.

So far things are looking good. Lots of white and pale pink and gray. Tomorrow we'll finish prepping the rooms for paint - moving furniture, filling nail holes, covering trim with miles of painter tape. It's going to be a busy week!

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Growing up, up, and away

It's 2016. Which means that my oldest child will turn 16 this fall.


It's also going to be her senior year. Never content with ordinary, K has moved quickly through her school accomplishments and will be graduating early. When we first realized 5 years ago that K's projected graduation date would mean she would graduate at the age of 16, we made sure she understood that just because she was graduating at 16, did not mean we would automatically allow her to go off to college at 16. It would all depend on where she wanted to go, what she wanted to do, what the requirements of any scholarships or programs would require, and mostly whether we believed she was ready or not. After all, we have very vivid memories of our own time in college and we know what she's going into.

But here's the thing about K, she's a go getter. She's smart and she has sailed through this school stuff without getting stressed over being and doing everything. She has been involved in serving and leading in many different capacities at her school, but she also knows how to set boundaries and priorities and is comfortable stepping back and letting others lead. She's content letting others make their own choices while she sticks firmly to her own. She has known for ages what she wants to do with her life and has set a trajectory that will get her there.

Back in December, K forwarded me an email she received about a summer leadership program. I encouraged her to pursue it. Life is short and you should seize the opportunities that come your way. It was a daunting application process and there would be a whole lot of money she would have to raise to do it, but K dove in. She found people to be her nominator, her mentor, and to write recommendations. She planned fundraisers as she waited anxiously to hear if she had been accepted. They take only a very small number of participants each year and people apply from all over the country.

Then the email came saying that K had been accepted! She was going to be part of the Compass program through Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. She spent the spring taking family portraits for friends, designing and selling t-shirts, babysitting, asking for donations, whatever it took to raise the money. June 22nd, she boarded a plane to Boston where she was met by the Compass people, who then spent the first 10 days doing wilderness training in the Adirondacks. They're now back at Gordon College where they're spending this week studying theology, then they'll leave Sunday to spend 10 days doing mission work in Nicaragua. They'll go back to Boston for a few days, then K will head home July 21st.

It's been like a mini-preview of K heading off to college next year. She went off to a place where she didn't know anyone, knowing that those perfect strangers would soon be some of her closest friends. She went to try new experiences and learn new perspectives, to see if what we've taught her all her life still holds true under different and difficult circumstances. She is out of communication and away from everything and everyone she knows. We've only gotten to talk once so far and I wait anxiously for the infrequent blog posts from the program director to hear how things are going.

K going on the Compass trip has been a big topic of conversation among our friends and family. I was frequently asked if I was nervous sending K off for a whole month to backpack and travel all the way to Nicaragua. And I had to say no. She was ready and able and fit for the challenge. Sure, I miss her, but we've spent her whole life preparing her to fly out of the nest. How could I clip her wings now?

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Talent versus hard work

Both my girls are busy and active, just like almost every other kid in America. I firmly believe in keeping kids involved in *something* so they find a place to belong and have a place to be and things to do. It helps keep them out of trouble as they get older and it teaches them so many good lessons about goal-setting and hard work and how to work together with others and way to many other good things to list here.

The oldest plays volleyball, serves on the student council, and runs the social committee at school. The youngest is a competitive dancer. Recently the situation came up for both that emphasized a point that every child really, really needs to learn early.

When things get hard, you have to make a conscious choice to rise up and change what you're doing to meet the challenge.

K plays on both the JV and the varsity teams for volleyball, but she was frustrated that she sat on the bench for the whole last varsity game while others of her skill/experience level played. I explained that it's the same issue that her little sister is dealing with right now.

L is starting her 4th year on the dance competition team and she was frustrated that she wasn't chosen for any small groups this year while many of her friends who are the same age and have been on the team a shorter time got solos and duets and special dances. Her friends are all nice little girls and they didn't gloat (our studio director is also the kind that would not have stood for such), but suddenly the duet partners were new best friends, music and styles for solos were the topics of discussion, and the teachers were pulling kids into the small groups for choreography work. It was all brand new and it was all in her face for every one of the long minutes she spends in dance each week. Every day that first week or so, she came out of class and shuffled quietly straight through the crowded foyer and out the door.

It hurt to see my bubbly, dance-loving daughter so upset. When she explained what was going on and asked why she was being left out, I had no explanation to give except that I had told the director we needed to have a light year in terms of time and financial commitment (L did start private school this year) and maybe she was trying to honor that in the way that would best meet the needs of both L and the team. A perfectly reasonable explanation, but I wanted to make sure that was the case, so I went to the director and asked.

That's always the best way to handle it, you know. To ask rather than assume. After all, L is...bubbly...and I wanted to make sure she was behaving herself in class and the no special dances thing wasn't because she was being a pill for the instructors. I wanted to know if there was a problem I could help with or something that L needed to change. So the director and I met and we came to a conclusion that is a bit foreign in our "I'm so awesome and it's all about having fun!" culture.

L is a talented dancer. She has a God-given ability that has carried her nicely this far. She's very flexible and graceful and has mastered many skills with minimal effort. But this year, the director moved L and her whole group up a level. They've got a brand new crop of cute little bitties and suddenly L's group is having to meet some very different expectations. "Cute" isn't going to cut it anymore.

While L is a very good dancer, she's kinda stalled out on learning new skills. She has come to the end of her inborn talent and she has come to the end of her this-is-all-brand-new enthusiastic practice-all-the-things-wherever attitude.

This is not a good combination.

While her friends are working on skills at home, L has been coming up with every excuse as to why she can't. She can't practice in her room because Dad is working all day right underneath her floor. She can't practice in the loft because there's too much furniture. She can't practice in the garage because it's too dirty and Dad's car is parked there. She can't practice outside because the grass makes her itch. Sure, she still taps down the grocery store aisles and cartwheels across parking lots, but she doesn't have a fully-outfitted dance studio in our normal-sized townhouse, so she can't have a focused dance practice.

Do you see the common thread? *I can't practice* She looks for excuses and isn't mastering new skills while her friends, who find places to practice at home, are moving forward. Because things have come so easily for her thus far, she hasn't built a solid foundation of hard work. Sure she practiced while it was fun, but she hasn't learned to discipline herself to practice the same things over and over even when it isn't fun. She's never had to work at something hard for a long time and so she's never known the immense satisfaction that comes from trying and failing so many times and then watching yourself finally achieve the goal you want.

Her director put it this way - she needs to make a choice. Is she going to quit because it isn't fun right now? Is she going to be satisfied with just being okay? Or is she going to work harder to achieve the goal of getting those special dances in the future?

The thing is, this is about so much more than dance.

When you get to college and the workload jumps, which choice are you going to make?

When you get that first job and your boss sets difficult expectations, which choice are you going to make?

When your marriage hits a really hard time, which choice are you going to make?

I want L and K to learn NOW, to be able to say when things get hard, *I* am going to be willing to change what I'm doing and work harder to achieve the goal. Whether it's a special dance or playing time on the court or a job or a relationship, *I* am willing to do whatever it takes. And then not just be willing, but actually DO IT. Stop making excuses. Stop expecting others to change. Stop expecting others to see how great you are just because you exist.

Trust me, it's good to learn that lesson at 9 with dance or at 12 with volleyball when the stakes are smaller, because it only gets more important from here.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

I'm liking this new schedule

Having both my children in private school this year has forced a few schedule changes around our house. I have never been much of a morning person. When hubby and I got married, it didn't take long for him to learn that talking to me for about the first hour of the day was not a good idea. Any necessary information should be relayed in short sentences that did not require a response because anything more was not going to go well.

When I taught and our school started at 7:30 (and what high schooler did they think was going to be ready to interact with the world at 7:30 in the morning!?!), I went through a terrible time with a reactive form of arthritis that left me in pain for much of the time. When we moved and I quit working and could sleep until the child woke me up (and she loves sleep as I do), the arthritis quieted down and has pretty much disappeared. I firmly believe that being able to *sleep* has been my saving grace. The whole less stress and not being on my feet all of the blessed day has probably helped as well, but I really credit the sleep.

Since school has started, my alarm is set for most days at 7am. Early, yes, but not stupid hour early. And curiously, my body has adjusted so well that it's often awake and ready to go before my alarm ever goes off. And I'm liking getting the day started earlier.

On Monday and Friday, K and I leave about 7:30, pick up a neighbor, and meet up with the rest of the carpool. We load up a total of 6 middle and high schoolers and all their gear and I drive them all to school where we draw a lot of attention when kid after kid comes piling out of my car in carpool line. I then drive home where L and I get started with her schoolwork right away. I'm really, fully awake, I've had some caffeine, and we can get organized and going smoothly.

On Tuesday and Thursday, L and I leave about 7:30 and I drive her to meet her carpool. I drop her off then go over to Starbucks for a chai tea and I get to sit and enjoy a peaceful morning writing a blog post before heading into the rest of my day. I sorta, kinda promised a new friend that I would show up at a spin class at our gym on Tuesday mornings, so today's chai tea was smaller and I have to leave here soon to get a spot in the class. She and her husband go and just love it and when I mentioned that I had considered adding that to my Tuesday routine, I ended up halfway promising to meet them. Spin is not my favorite and I am so not in the shape needed to keep up, but I like the accountability and comraderie of having a regular class, so we'll see.

Wednesday is my one day of no alarm as someone else picks up Kate for carpool. I love the sleeping in, but I find that those days don't go as well, so it may be time to add an (admittedly later) alarm for that day as well. I like structure and *doing* and this weekend was a perfect example of why I need it. We had Monday off school and we didn't have a whole lot of schoolwork Friday and there was a party at school I ended up helping with, so my whole schedule was thrown off the past 4 days. I felt so lost the whole time and it was confusing trying to get Lydia's work organized last night and trying to figure out if she had everything ready to turn in. I'm still not positive we had everything done, but I was getting emails from teachers late yesterday with apologies because they were late with posting their lesson plans, so everyone was totally thrown off by the holiday. Maybe they'll be gracious with the fact that Lydia went off and left her Language Arts homework in the fridge this morning (we made cookies and cream chocolate bark for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory).

And I'm off to spin class. If you don't see another post from me on Thursday, come visit me in the hospital where I'll probably be laid up in traction.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

The perks of being impatient

I recently finished an Enormous Painting Project. A year ago (or maybe it was two, I claim memory loss due to old age and/or paint fumes), I painted a large portion of my downstairs in a beautiful creamy, yellowish color that looks like the pale yellow-white of real butter. And after a year (or 2), I still really love the color, so I had a dream of seeing that color on the rest of my house. The beautiful yellow cream with an occasional accent wall in a deep, rich color. I stared at the increasingly nasty builder white walls and dreamed. Until last week, when we had just started school and volleyball and were deep in the stress of starting the busy dance schedule, because that's the most logical time to start a major painting project (insert sarcasm here). But the project is done, I had fun doing it, and it looks beee-you-ti-full. The hallway and the stairwell and most of the loft are creamy yellow and the large back wall of the loft is a deep navy blue. I'll show you pictures next time, but for now I wanted to show you another project that I tacked onto the end of the Enormous Painting Project. The large back wall of the loft is a wide open expanse of navy blue. It's the perfect look for that wall, but it's a very large wall with no windows (it's the inside wall of our townhouse) and I just kept looking at it and thinking how it really needed a really large *something* on the wall. A month ago we were in the Ikea in Dallas and I saw an gorgeous piece of art that would look awesome on that wall.

Isn't that lovely? It ties in the blue from the loft and the fallish tones from downstairs. And it's HUGE. So I drove across town to our Ikea and...they didn't have it. Gloom, despair, and agony on me! Deep dark depression! Excessive misery! Ok, not really. But I was frustrated. I walked out thinking that I could just order the print or I *could* go next door to Hobby Lobby and see what they had. And I had a 40% off coupon there so it was worth a shot. I walked through the store and looked at everything until I found this. 

Very awesome. Beautiful. Perfect. Except that it was way too small. But then I decided to go for a meandering walk all through the store and loaded up random items into my cart then hauled it all home.

I enlisted my oldest daughter's help between school assignments this is how you can accomplish what we did.

Mix up a few pale shades with white, brown, and yellow and blotch them around the canvas, don't forget the sides! Apply it thickly and the crazier the pattern, the more interesting your background will be. Then take a clean natural sponge and tap it over the entire canvas (including the sides) to blend and texture the paint. At the end, you can dip it in either a much lighter or much darker color and tap it lightly in a few spots. Then let this dry.

Next you need a couple of stencils. Spread some darker or lighter paint on a paper plate and dip your natural sponge in it. Place your stencil over one area of the canvas and tap the stencil in gently so it doesn't cover solidly. I used a border stencil over and over to create a big pattern then added a few other individual designs.

Now you need to paint in a few crazy bare branches. Make sure you've got plenty of horizontal-ish branches for your birds to sit on.

While all that dries hard, get online and search images for "bird silhouettes". Pick out a few that you like then print them out really big. Or whatever size you need for your canvas. My canvas is 36" square, so my birds are a little bigger than a single sheet of paper. Find some awesome scrapbook paper in the colors you want and cut the silhouettes out. Tip: Line up any pattern on the paper with the orientation you want of your bird. Make sure they're facing the way you want and that the pattern will come out lined up on the final artwork like you want. Once you've got the birds cut out, using a darker paint (I used a bronzy metallic here and in the stencils) and the natural sponge, tap around the outside edges of the birds so that it creates a shadow all around. Don't be tempted to skip this step as it adds so much to the final look.

When everything is dry, paste the birds to the canvas. I used spray glue and it works nicely to keep things smooth.

Now it's time to add the 3D accents. I used burlap flowers cut off the stems and some awesome ones I found made of swirled metal that were meant to be hung on the wall. These I just attached with high heat hot glue.

And you're done! We started after lunch and had it hanging on the wall before dinner. And it's awesome! I didn't have to wait to get it shipped, it's a great size for the space, it's all the right colors, and every time I look at it, I can think, "I did that!" And now you can make your own.