To Boldly Go Where I Haven’t Gone Before…

I haven’t written in awhile.  Of course, I have been averaging a post a month, and like most months, I’ve actually had quite a few things to write about.  Somehow though, it has been different over the past few weeks.  I’ve had time to sit down and write, but just haven’t felt like it.  Or perhaps it is that by writing about it, it becomes more real.

By “it”, I mean finally resigning from my job at the Yahweh Center.  For those that know me well, you are likely to understand what a big deal this is for me.  Will and I have been praying since Eila was born about me quitting my job and staying at home with Eila (and any other ones to come along) for the first few years.  In May 2008, we were already pretty sure that that was what I should do, but we also felt that the time wasn’t right yet and I really wanted to finish up with the children on my therapy caseload naturally rather than having to switch them to a new therapist (by naturally, I mean serving as their therapist until they left the Yahweh Center).  Despite our feeling that we should plan to live on one income at some point in the near future, we continued to pray about that decision over the next year and a half. I did, however, return on a part-time basis rather than a full-time one after Eila was born, so that has allowed for a gradual transition as well.

I let my therapy caseload dwindle slowly and did not take on any more cases, which allowed me to focus more on being the admissions coordinator as well.  Working as a therapist is a very emotionally involved job, but surprisingly, working as an admissions coordinator was too (although not nearly as much!).  The benefit of doing admissions is that it was easier to do parts of it from home, which allowed Will and I to avoid putting Eila in daycare.  My last child that I saw for therapy discharged over the summer, leaving me with a few months to just focus on admissions.

It has really bothered me though, that my attentions were split between work and home– I can easily state after this expeirence of working primarily from home that it is extremely difficult to do with a toddler.  Eila certainly needed my attention and I could tell she began to resent when I was on the computer or on the phone– it didn’t take a genius (or even a therapist) to figure this out, as she was always trying to close the laptop and would scream or cry when I was on the phone taking down intake info (I quickly learned to do the majority of my phone calls during her nap time).  On the other hand, I felt I wasn’t doing all I needed to do for my job- I couldn’t always fax documents when I needed to, I wasn’t there for some meetings that I would have liked to take part in, and considering that pre-Eila I had worked 60 hour weeks, I felt like I was not working as I should be.  It was hard.

It’s not just that I have some great work ethic or am a perfectionist– rather, the Yahweh Center has played a big part in shaping me into who I am today.  Being the daughter of the founder and Executive Director allowed me to grow up alongside of it- when I was younger, I would go with my mom to her office after school (when we were back on Wrightsville Ave) and would play with some of the kids (looking back now, that seems crazy, but it was definitely a different system of care then in relation to many things, although the issues the kids were facing were ultimately the same; our agency was different though overall).  As I grew and decided I wanted to work with children, I served first as a residential counselor to the kids, then as a case manager and therapist, and then as a therapist and admissions coordinator.  I saw the Yahweh Center go through and survive many system changes and struggles, and I saw that it was God who brought us through.  I admire my mother for the strength He has given her to carry on through extremely difficult circumstances, I have watched staff members treat her terribly, never knowing how hard she has worked to make things good for them or her personal sacrifices so that they could be paid on time.  I have become angry at comments that co-workers have made and have kept silent.  I have struggled with feeling isolated or left out because I was the “boss’ daughter” and could be a “mole” or a “spy”.  Or I have kept myself separate because sometimes, it was just too hard to form relationships with coworkers because of who my mother is.   I admire that my mother never treated me better because I am her daughter; rather, I oftentimes got treated worse than others in some ways as my mother worked hard not to show any favoritism and often kept silent when she would have spoken up for someone else.   I am thankful for this though, because it helped me grow.

All that to say…I still can’t quite fathom not working there.  I know I will have connection still through my mom of course, and through Will since he is the IT director.  But I know it won’t be the same.  Staying at home is going to be a HUGE challenge, and while I won’t miss certain aspects of my job, I will miss many of my co-workers, the fellowship, and the opportunity to serve in a ministry.  Now my ministry will be more focused at home.  I know God will equip me, but I sure don’t feel ready for this challenge.  I will have to find ways to develop myself outside of wife and mother, to find fellowship with others, and to serve others in different ways.  I will miss those long meetings, the children, and the families.   And I am trying SO HARD not to be worried about finances… we are not called to worry and I know it is insulting to my Lord that I don’t trust in His provision.  I know He will provide.  But it is still very new territory to live on one income.  We have always been careful with our money, but this will be an entirely new level of caution.

However, how blessed am I that I have this opportunity?  I know that it is a wonderful thing to get to stay home with my children when they are young and I am thankful.  And I will continue with my continuing ed credits, so that after a few years, if I am called to do so, I can return to work with my LCSW intact.  I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who holds my future.  That will have to be enough for now.

Making Memories of Us

Before Eila was born, I remember hearing some people talk or write about some things they do to commemorate their child’s growth from month to month.  Some take pictures, one person I know made a cake for each month, and so forth.  I decided that recording Eila’s growth each month for her first year of life is something I would love to do (and am especially glad I did now that I know how very quickly babies grow and change in their first year of life).

I wanted something that would last and I wanted something that would be meaningful as well.  So I chose to write a letter to her for each month describing what she is like and how she is growing- I’m sure other parents have done this but I didn’t come across this as I read what some people do.   This may sound morbid, but if something should ever happen to me, the letters would also help her to have a glimpse of what I was like when she was a baby and of how much I loved her, although the great thing is these letters will hopefully give her that gift whether something ever happens or not.

We have all 12 letters, and as we passed her 18 month mark a couple of months back, I remember thinking that I would like to write her a letter for that marker as well, because I am constantly amazed at how much she learns and grows with each day.  Today marks her 20 month “birthday” and I sat down tonight after I put Eila to bed and began writing little thoughts down as they came to me.  I am waiting to find the notepad I have the other letters on to actually write the letter out, but thought I would share some of the first things I thought of (and yes I am ending the sentence with “of”- it is my blog so I feel freedom!)

At 18 (to 20) months of age, my beautiful, sweet, amazing little girl…

-Has been known to say “Ummm…..hmmm…let me see” when asked a question
-Loves to play hide and seek
-When doing something she enjoys, will say “again” when it is over (over and over again)
-Loves animals, especially the “two kitties” that adopted us

-Has an amazing vocabulary- I can’t believe how many words this child knows and I think she learns at least two more each day!
-Talks about “Baby Asher”, “Baby Brother”, and “Brother Asher”
-Likes to kiss baby Asher by kissing mommy’s tummy
-Sometimes tries to share her stuffed animals with Asher by putting them on mommy’s tummy

-Loves to run up and hug her mommy and daddy’s legs
-When told “I love you” will say “you too” in response

-Eats well and loves pasta noodles in particular-Is obsessed with Veggietales, particularly liking “Cebu”, “Monkey”, Yodeling Veterinarian”, “Bunny Song” and “Larry’s High Silk Hat”

-Loves “Pooh Bear” (Winnie the Pooh)
-Likes to dance to Crazy in Love by Jay-Z and Beyonce because of the “uh oh” refrain
-Likes to throw things and then say “uh-oh”
-Likes to say “Oh gosh”, particularly when she stumbles or is sliding down the stairs

-Likes to blow kisses to bodies of water- the child loves water

-Likes trucks and some cars and once when she saw a vehicle with bumper stickers literally covering the back of it, decided that was an “icky truck” and said so repeatedly until the truck turned off

-Does not like to have things on her hands or feet, therefore if she gets food or sand/dirt on her feet, she loudly makes the pronouncement “icky” and demands that she be wiped clean

-Can name some of her colors, most of the parts of her body, can do some of her ABC’s in order (not consistently yet) and can count 2,3,4 but has something against the number 1

-Has the most amazing way about her- I am so blessed.

Eat your vegetables

It has occurred to me of late that Veggietales is quite the interesting idea.  The reason I have been contemplating such an important topic such as Veggietales is that Eila is OBSESSED with them, and by obsessed I mean she will randomly ask for “tales, cebu, bunny song, or monkey” throughout the day, all referring to a Veggietales silly song and will cry REAL TEARS when I let her watch a couple of silly songs and then turn it off..thankfully this obsession replaced the Elmo obsession, of which I am extremely thankful for.

Anyway, just a thought here– why, if we want our children to learn to eat vegetables, do we encourage them to come to like characters that are cucumbers, tomatoes, and other veggies?  Ha Larry, I have eaten off your head- Ha Bob, you will complement my spaghetti sauce nicely.   Junior Asparagus, run for your life before you join the rest of the veggies in the ah, hot tub on the stove range.  Why did the creators of Veggietales not think of this?  Perhaps this is not an issue at all, but logically speaking, it seems that it would be…doesn’t it?  Thoughts?

And a little bird poop for good luck

Last week Will and I celebrated our five year anniversary.  September 25, to be exact.  We decided to take the week off in order to enjoy our anniversary, but also, because we hadn’t taken time off in forever.  The last vacation we had taken was a year prior, and that, like this one, involved staying in the area and just doing things around the house.

A few months ago, I had a dream of going to Savannah, GA with Will to enjoy our anniversary before the arrival of Mr. Asher Benjamin.  I envisioned breakfast in bed, sleeping in past 7am, cuddling, walking around Savannah, and eating at good restaurants– with no toddler to care for, as we would leave Eila with my parents and I would be anxious for a while and call every night despite enjoying myself, but Will and I would be able to have time to ourselves for the first time since Eila’s birth.  Or so it went in my head.  But the reality was that we are saving up money for a variety of reasons, so a trip to Savannah would not have been responsible.  Darn responsiblity.

Regardless, we decided to take a week off to work on Asher’s nursery, finish up some things in Eila’s room, hang up some shelves and pictures, etc.  Not Savannah but it will do.  And while it wasn’t a restful, fun, enjoyed every minute kind of vacation, it was productive and had some memorable moments.  Here are a few of them:

1) Reducing our monthly budget.  Now I know what you are thinking…”Wow, what an amazing vacation- so much fun that they worked on their budget!”  Yes, I am aware that it is somewhat pitiful to do your budget while on vacation.  But people, it is not something we feel like tackling after work and are typically too busy to tackle on weekends, so there you are.  Anyway, we had been wanting to look at reducing our car payments for awhile now (we were leasing our Hondas) and contacted the dealership to explore our options.  We decided to buy the Accord and see if we could return the CRV (poor Will and his green machine), freeing us up to buy a used car on Craigslist or the like for under $4000, thereby reducing our car payments, which were the second largest chunk out of our budget.  The dealership agreed.  Praise report #1.

We were worried about finding a reliable used car on Craigslist, because really, you just never know.  Enter praise report #2.  When Will’s grandmother Novie passed away a year and a half ago, she left behind her ‘95 Buick LeSabre, with only 40,000 miles on it.  When we were talking with Will’s parents about our plan to acquire a used vehicle, Will jokingly (well, somewhat jokingly) asked them about the Miata they never drive.  His mother, not wanting to part with the Miata, mentioned they did have the Buick and that they may be willing to give it to us.  They talked it over and decided that was what they would like to do.  Thank you Lord!  Down to one car payment.

2) Calvin the Super-Cat.  So, the cat that chose to adopt us a couple weeks back appears to be staying.  Residing on the porch, Calvin enjoys eating, purring, and playing with the conch shells we have by one of the porch posts.  On the only day of our week off where it wasn’t supposed to pour down rain, thereby making it “field trip to Southport” day, we wake up excited about the chance to have a day just to enjoy being together as a family.  Will comes downstairs with Eila to get her breakfast while I shower so we can get going to Southport.  I am getting dressed when I hear, “Liv, can you come down here?”  Uh oh.

I go downstairs only to discover that Calvin the Super-Cat is perched 15 feet up in a tree across the street in a wooded not-yet-claimed lot.  Will dresses in long sleeves to avoid mosquito attack and takes our ladder across the street to rescue this crazy cat.  Unfortunately, our ladder is only 6 ft. tall, and despite Will adding another 6 ft, the math does not add up.  We end up calling the Rocky Point Fire Dept., where a very nice volunteer fireman tells me that this is their third “cat call” this month and he will have to get permission from the Chief.  This was after he asked if we had a hose to squirt him down, as that is what they do- I explained we do not have a hose long enough to go across the street where the troublemaker was.  The fireman is granted permission and they show up quite quickly, hose the Calvin down, and after being thanked profusely, head on their way.  I have great appreciation that they would even help in such a way.  As for Calvin, he remained wet and angry for about 15 minutes before getting over it and returning to eat breakfast.  We missed our ferry, but decided to go anyway and take the ferry back.

3) Getting to watch Eila on the ferry.  You see, Eila LOVES water (to the point where she has blown kisses to it when crossing bridges), and I desperately wanted to take her on the ferry from Southport to Fort Fisher, hence our determination to find one day where the weather would allow for a trip to Southport.

4) Eila’s first dose of luck.  Oh yes, as the title of this post alludes too, bird poop was part of our vacation.  In the form of being deposited on my sweet little girl’s head, left shoulder, and back.  In Southport.  A few minutes after I had just said to Will that we needed to be careful sitting on the swing under those trees because we might get pooped on.  Thankfully, Eila had no clue and appeared more concerned as to why we were dumping a portion of one of our water bottles on her head.  I also was prepared that day with an extra outfit in the diaper bag, and some wipes of course, so it was manageable.  Actually,  I hesitate to admit this, but the first thing Will and I did (after noticing Eila’s cluelessness) was crack up.  I’m sorry, it was funny. I have no idea why people say that it is good luck- is it supposed to make it more tolerable?

5) The actual day of Will and I’s anniversary. You see, at this point in the week, the sinful part of me was starting to resent that other people our age have actually taken real vacations, even having young children.  I was mad that the weather stunk, I was mad that we hadn’t even gotten everything done we had planned to, I was mad that we had gotten married the day before my mother’s birthday which caused conflicts with planning at times, and I was mad that Will had to go to court first thing on the morning of our anniversary to try and get out of a speeding ticket.  When he called to say that the ticket was dismissed, I felt a momentary moment of happiness before he added that we still had to pay court costs equaling $155.  I will refrain from going into a rant on the racket our court system runs in regard to speeding tickets.  Let’s just say I was probably not too fun to be around.

Due to the “court costs” and my current tendency to worry about money (and yes I recognize the irony-read SIN- in worrying about God’s provision in the midst of the miracle car situation), I began to fret over going to dinner for our anniversary.  I began to do the irrational thing I do at times (thankfully rarely) in which I say to Will I don’t want to do something when I am really wanting to do it and just hoping Will will reassure me.  A few hours before our reservation at the Little Dipper- one of my favorite restaurants and where I had been waiting to go again since our last anniversary- we begin to fight.  Thanks, primarily to me and my crazy expectation that after five years Will should be able to read my mind.  Looong story short, we end up heading to the restaurant, get caught in a torrential downpour on I-40, making us 20 minutes late for our reservation, I get upset over this and cry in the car for another 15 (arguing still with poor Will), and we finally get inside over 30 minutes later for dinner.  We had, of course, lost our table (the one Will had requested that was beside the fireplace).  Instead, we were seated at a table near the bar- cue more tears that I cry by going into the ladies room to save at least some dignity.

I come out, decide that I deserve it after how I had been acting, and we decide to just try and enjoy ourselves anyway.  And we did.  We came home and had a wonderful evening together.  God is definitely still teaching me about the danger of unrealistic expectations, the danger in comparing myself to others, and my overall sinful nature.

I am so thankful He is gracious, merciful, and loving.  And that He loves us enough to show us that we are nothing without Jesus.

So that was our week off in a nutshell.  I’ll stop here as this post was long enough (guess that’s what happens when I don’t write in a while).

Lessons from Kenny

This past spring, fully aware that we have a toddler and another little one on the way, Will and I made our Before Baby List.  This list just included a few things we would like to try to do before Asher’s arrival.  One of those items was to go to a concert together- in almost five years of marriage, that is one of the things we had not done that would be both attainable and enjoyable.  A month or so later, I noticed that a friend of mine had made a comment on her Facebook page about a Kenny Chesney concert later in the summer.  Curious, I began to look at who was playing Walnut Creek over the next few months, noting a few bands I really enjoy.  I love music, really love it actually.  I listen to many different kinds, but primarily listen to contemporary Christian, country, and pop/rock, usually top 40 kinds of stuff.

In looking at the concert line-up, most of the groups performing that I liked fell into the country category.  I noted that Brad Paisley was performing but the timing wasn’t going to work out; I saw Rascall Flatts was up in August but for some reason I can’t recall at the time, that didn’t seem quite right (now I am thankful we did not buy tickets because it turns out that ended up being the weekend we moved!).  That left Kenny Chesney.  Sticking that in the back of my mind, because I like the majority of his songs, I checked out Christian artists that would be playing in Eastern NC over the summer.  Unfortunately I didn’t really see any that I liked that would be playing at a time/place we could manage.

I mentioned to Will that we should go to a concert and that Kenny Chesney was playing in late August, and to my surprise, Will immediately said to buy some tickets…now, my husband likes country music, and he knew a few of Kenny Chesney’s songs, but I didn’t expect him to be so willing to go.  Noting my hesitation, he encouraged me to just do it, so I purchased two lawn “seats” and then spent the next little bit wondering if I should have spent the money…you know, new baby on the way and everything.

Fast forward to August 30.  Will and I are excited about the opportunity to be alone for more than a couple of hours at a time, including dinner and a concert.  My parents were wonderful and had agreed to watch Eila, knowing we wouldn’t get home until around midnight from Raleigh.  Feeling some anxiety over being away from Eila that long, I set out with my husband and we made our way towards Walnut Creek.  After a dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, we got over to the Creek and parked.  After a somewhat lengthy walk to the amphitheatre, blanket, chairs, and cooler in tow, we were ready to go through security and the gates.

Here’s what I learned from Kenny at the Creek…

1) So not fun to go to a concert while you are pregnant- not because of the heat really, but because you find yourself frequenting the bathrooms at an alarming rate and the bathrooms, well, they are nasty.  And lines are long.  And people are drunk.  You get the picture.

2) You are not allowed to bring in cameras.

3) It is helpful to bring an extra pair of capris along in case you get hot in your denim ones.  Not because you actually get hot and need to change, but because you can smuggle your camera in by putting it in the pocket of your extra capris and security does not look there if you are carrying the said capris in your arms.

4)  Security is not very secure.  They seriously do not check items closely enough.

5) Do not bring chairs that sit more than 9 inches off the ground.  If you are pregnant, however, you are granted a medical excuse and are allowed to bring one chair in.  (I never sat in it, one, because people behind me wouldn’t have been able to see, and two, it would be wierd to sit in the chair while my husband sat on the ground at my feet…actually, writing that makes it sound kind of appealing .

6) There is no need to worry about people behind me being able to see, as they stood on their feet the entire time yelling “Kenny, I love you” (mind you a guy said this).

7) It is amazing to see what people find to wear to a concert.  Wow.

On a more serious note though, I think the lessons I learned most were in regard to our culture today.  I left the concert asking Will if we had just gotten old, but thankfully, I think it was much more than that.  I found myself distracted and saddened by how drunk so many people had gotten/were getting around us.  People falling on other people, people having a hard time standing up, people not even registering half of what was going on.  Yes, it was also partly annoying, as the people behind us were singing along so loudly with the songs that we could barely hear Kenny Chesney, and I’m sorry, but I did not pay money for tickets to hear them singing “I Go Back”.  And then there were the very rude people that would step right on the quilt we were sitting on, narrowly missing us by a small margin.  Or the people beside me, that after the guy had a discussion with me about pregnancy because his wife is due in a month and he appeared to be slightly perturbed by the thought of being  a dad, his companion lights up a cigarette and begins polluting the air of myself and my unborn child.  But more than feeling annoyed over all these things, I just felt sad.

The saddest thing I remember occurred during one of my many trips to the bathroom.  As I walked down the hallway to the toilet area, a girl a few years younger than me came walking by, going out the wrong way.  She staggered from side to side, and as I looked into her eyes as she neared, the absolute blankness in them broke my heart.  I don’t know if I can explain it, but for some reason, that image haunts me.  Perhaps it is because so many there, particularly this young woman, appeared to lack the light of Christ in their lives- they were drinking and drinking and drinking, and of course, Christians sometimes drink (I like a glass of wine every once in a while- when I’m not pregnant/nursing), but this was a different kind of drinking.  A kind of drinking that seemed to have the purpose of filling some void, of easing the way into oblivion to allow for forgetting whatever was to be forgotten.  An emptiness.

I told Will that as much as I enjoy music of different kinds, when it comes to concerts, I would like to stick to Christian ones.  Of course, being there to hear Kenny, I was able to remember a lot of life that I am not often exposed to (it definitely brought to mind the UNC days of Franklin Street after a win or on Halloween), and I intend to keep praying for that young woman.  That she will find what she is looking for, hopefully in the person of Jesus (if she doesn’t know Him) rather than in a bottle.

18 months and counting…

Eila turned 18 months last week, and it still amazes me that not only am a mother, but that I have a toddler and another on the way!  Does anyone else have a hard time sometimes understanding that they are an adult and not just frozen in a time of pre-adulthood?  If so, then I have company, if not, well…stop laughing at me.

On that same note, I feel like I started losing track of how old I am once I passed 25- I honestly forget sometimes that I will be 29 this year.  It feels like I can’t possibly be almost 30.  Sometimes I feel like I am a little girl again pretending to be a grown-up.

I am already learning the lesson that while children may remind you of your adulthood particularly in regard to level of responsibility, that they do definitely keep you young.  Eila does this for me daily, and I’m sure Asher will do the same.  For example…

Eila has a wonderful laugh that I love to hear, so what choice does that leave me but to make incredibly silly faces, sounds, and dance crazy dances (I like to dance, but not in front of people, as my husband will attest to, so to dance in front of her is certainly an exception to my rule)!

In all her toddler-glory, Eila is learning the beauty of the word “no”- clearly this relates more to the responsibility issue rather than the keeping me young issue…as frustrating as it is at times though, she sees it so sweetly that it negates some (emphasis on some) of the obnoxiousness that accompanies it at times.

Back in the keeping me young category, each day becomes an adventure, allowing me to see the world freshly through the eyes of a child.  When a plane goes by in the sky, Eila says “plane” with such enthusiasm and with such a look of wonder that I can’t help but stop and listen and look as well.

She also likes to say her baby brother’s name and kiss and pat my tummy.  Enough said.

In response to being told that I love her, Eila responds with “you too”.  Also enough said.

Not to mention that I get constant exercise chasing the munchkin around, which keeps me young but being pregnant, is also making me feel old!

I can’t imagine what it will be like to chase after two of them…at the moment, not sure I want to.  But I am so thankful for her and for her little brother on the way, and I will remind myself of this when I am later overwhelmed and asking God why, WHY did we decide to space them so closely…

Asher Benjamin

So in my last brief post, I shared that we were having a boy.  Just wanted to elaborate a little now that I have more time.  The ultrasound was amazing, we got to see our little guy moving his mouth and playing with his chin and the tech printed out some wonderful pictures for us.  After our appointment, we met with one of the doctors (my favorite one and the one I pray will deliver our little guy vs. Mr. “Get ‘R Done”- don’t ask…)…the doctor shared that he had passed his ultrasound with flying colors and everything looked great.  He is weighing in at 10 ounces currently and is right on track. I also learned that the reason his movements have been less pronounced than I expected was because he is located behind my placenta so it cushions the movement, but I will begin feeling even more as he grows.

Of course, Will and I had been discussing names for both boys and girls, and while we agreed on the girl names, we were having more difficulty agreeing on  a boy name.  Once we officially knew it was a boy, I began the “team Asher” campaign.  You see, I really felt like our little guy was supposed to be an Asher, and while Will didn’t dislike the name, he wasn’t 100% on board.  Poor Will had to listen to me, his mother-in-law, and his sister-in-law all discuss how wonderful the name Asher is.  I’m happy to say, somewhat anti-climatically given the title of this post, that a few days following our ultrasound, Will agreed with Asher.  So Asher Benjamin it is.  I can’t wait to meet him.

And know this- Will isn’t easily swayed, so I know he agreed to the name because he genuinely feels it is right after thinking about it rather than just caving in. Just in case you were wondering.  He gives me a run for the money when it comes to who the more stubborn of the two is!  :)

Chromosome game and ultrasounds

It’s a boy!

I like to think of this post as putting things in perspective…

So I recently (recently as in almost a month ago) did a post about some of my favorite things.  Since then, I have been pondering some of my not-so-favorite things.  Otherwise known as things I don’t like.  I don’t mean to use this post to complain but rather to vent, and perhaps, to process.  I process through writing.  Anyway, so here goes…

1.  The first one that comes to mind are real estate negotiations.  We just accepted an offer on our house and are very excited, as we should be moved by the end of this month.  I am thankful for this, believe me, but I learned through the process that I don’t like to play games, gamble, or wait while other people play games.  Sometimes waiting on the counteroffer literally made me feel somewhat sick to my stomach (and no, it had nothing to do with my pregnancy).  I like it when people are straightforward rather than trying to pretend they aren’t interested or feign complacency in order to try and get more money out of you.  SO thankful that, Lord willing, all is done with this offer and all we have to do it close.

2.  This leads me to number 2, the real estate agent that nosed his way in while we had still listed by owner (to  hold to our contract on our future home, we agreed to list with an agent if we hadn’t sold by owner within a certain time).  So before we listed with our current agent, a family friend, ethical man, Christian, and great realtor, we had to deal with a man that had not found our home for the couple, did not show it to them, but yet expected his 3% commission from us because he had shown this couple 40 homes (40!) before THEY found ours listed by owner.  Will and I didn’t like him from the start and are very thankful that it ended up not working out with this couple (they lowballed and we couldn’t accept); the reason we were glad is because even though we have to pay more to our agent since listing with him, I’d much rather give him the 6% commission rather than a 3% commission to someone who did NOTHING but pull up our tax records and eventually come 0ut to try and convince us why we should drop our house $14,000 and then pay him 3% on top of it…

3. The NC mental health system, which ultimately leads to our federal system which is putting all of our children and families up the creek without a paddle, then leaving them to brave the rapids that are hell-bent on destroying the little boat they have left…

4. People who profess to be Christians and completely turn others away from Jesus.  I’m not just talking about Christians that make mistakes, do wrong, etc, as, HELLO, that is all of us.  We all sin.  I’m talking about people that consistently act in such a manner that cause those who do not believe in Jesus to dismiss Him entirely.

5. People that are wishy-washy, especially to the point that their indecisiveness hurts others.  A little boy I have worked with for 2 1/2 years has been waiting quite a while for us to find him a foster family (and hopefully adoptive family someday).  This was, of course, once the court got over its wishy-washiness and freed him for adoption).  A family approached us and seemed that they could be a good match for this little guy.  So we checked their records, read their home study, etc, and began visits once they had been okayed by our treatment team.  Well, what no documentation revealed is their utter inability to commit to our little guy.  One week they were entirely gung-ho and wished he could come home with them RIGHT THIS MINUTE, and the next week they were indicating they may be interested in another little girl through a different agency.  Then, they would express their commitment to our little guy, and a moment later, expressed they couldn’t do it because they were concerned about his school situation.  Oh, but wait, we have it figured out, so we are back in the game…What’s worse, is that they would continually indicate to our little guy that they would see him in such and such days, and make plans, and then change them (this occurred at the very end).   I had to tell our boy that they were not coming to pick him up for a long overnight visit as they had talked to him about…once we gave them permission to be done for the sake of our little guy, they had the nerve to literally lie to another agency about what had occurred.  I was and remain concerned that they will do this to another child (as we learned later that they had done this to one little girl prior to coming to us about our little boy).  I sent a detailed email to their representative at their licensing agency to express my concerns, and unfortunately, did not receive a reply… (another pet peeve of mine).

6. People that are passive aggressive.  Particularly people that act like everything is fine when you ask them but you know behind your back have not been your friend.

Number 6 leads me to Number 7…

7.  I was hesitant to write about this, but because it has stayed on my mind so long, I feel the need to further process my thoughts and deal with my feelings about it.

A few months back, I posted a comment relating to my view of pro-life on my facebook status update. Abortion is another thing I get very passionate about and dislike intensely (to be clear, I feel for many of the women that find themselves facing an unplanned pregnancy, but I cannot agree with a practice that murders a child- I especially abhor it in those circumstances where it is simply  ”inconvenient” to have a child at this time)..Anyway…back to my facebook status…

In response to this status update, an individual I had reconnected with on Facebook that I had been close to at a point in time (we’ll call them friend #1) responded strongly to my comment, relating it to another issue not related to abortion.  I was somewhat bewildered by the individuals strong reply, but let it be.  (I apologize if the next part is confusing, but I’m trying to avoid using names as I don’t think that would be at all appropriate)… The next day I received a message in my inbox from another friend that I had lost touch with (friend #2), stating that the reason friend #1 was upset was because of something I had supposedly said about them in the past.  I was then told that friend number 1 had been told the following… that I had once said that because my friend #1 was homosexual, I would walk on the other side of the street due to my dislike of this person because of his/her lifestyle.  I am then told in this message that apparently, a former very close friend (#3), while drinking, had shared that I had said this.

I was stunned and all I could do was sit there and cry.  I do believe homosexuality is wrong.  However, I know that I would never have said, much less thought, to not walk near someone on the street because they are a gay or lesbian individual.  I don’t know how long I cried that afternoon.  So why did I cry?  Granted, it may have been in part because I was falsely accused.  I make so many mistakes and regret many things, but I know I never said this.  But aside from being hurt that people would believe I said this, it was so, so much more than that.  I cried for friend #1, the one that had been told such a terrible thing.  I cried because I couldn’t imagine the pain it must have caused for him/her.  And, most of all, I cried because of how it reflected on Jesus.  You see, friend #1 is not a Christian, and while I don’t know him/her very well now at all, I know that he/she doesn’t believe Jesus is their Savior.  And when Friend 1 was told this terrible thing, all the while knowing that I am a Christian and I supposedly said that, why on earth would they want Jesus for their Savior?

As for friend #3- I am working on forgiveness of this person.  I don’t really know who it is, but I have a suspicion based on the little info I was given about them.  I deliberately didn’t ask friend 2 to give me a name…sometimes I wish I had, but what good would it do?  I get very, very angry at the person I think said this (and then I feel guilty because what if I am wrong?  Lord, please forgive me if I am wrong, and forgive me anyway for my anger at the person, whoever it is).  But obviously, this still really bothers me.  I don’t think friends 1 and 2 believed me when I told them I didn’t say that, and I know there is nothing I can really do to change their minds.  I wish they knew me well enough to know I would never behave in such a way.  I have strong convictions, but I know that I can love someone while disagreeing with their choices- I do it regularly.  Perhaps not perfectly, but I love and care for them nonetheless.

And I don’t know why friend 3 would say such a thing- if it is the person I think it is (and by process of elimination I think I may be right, especially as I didn’t have more than a few very close friends during the time period in question and I know which ones it couldn’t have been (based on timeline alone), we have not been close for years.  We barely communicate now, if at all.  There has been an undercurrent between us for quite a while.  At least five years.  And while some people believe that people, when drunk, are the most honest individuals alive, they are also the individuals that allow emotions and other issues bothering them to rule their thoughts and behaviors, as well as their words.  And I know that friend 3 must have been hurting to say what they said to friends 1 and 2, so I suppose I cried a little for friend 3 too, despite the anger I felt and feel.  I just wish that if friend 3 had chosen to hurt me, it hadn’t involved someone else as well.

I don’t know if writing this really helped me process further or not.  It’s hard to put into words.  It’s hard to even try and understand why someone would say such a thing.  I still pray that friend 1 will not allow this situation to reflect on Jesus. I pray that it will not keep him/her from one day coming to know Him.  And I pray that God will use this situation to grow all of us involved into who He wants us to be.

A Few of My Favorite Things

I haven’t written in a while despite my best intentions to post regularly; I have definitely been keeping busy lately.  Despite the writing drought, I have been thinking about some things I wanted to write about and have decided to finally make time to do it.

So, what follows is a list of my current favorite things…

1. Eila saying “mama” when she wants my attention (granted, this is not so much fun when done repetitively while I am on the phone for work, but that is another post)

2. Eila doing the “poopy dance” when she needs a diaper change.  The dance looks something like this…Eila looks at me, runs to one end of the couch, and hides.  When I ask her if she has a poopy diaper, she then runs to the other end of the couch, looking at me the entire time, and hides.  This repeats itself numerous times, until I scoop her up and head to her room.  Even better, sometimes she adds some variety by going up to the floor lamp at one end of the couch and shaking it back and forth, like she is ringing the bell in a belltower or sounding some kind of alarm.  As amusing as this is, due to safety reasons, I have to stop this pretty quickly.  

3. A new way we found to get our dog, Annabelle, to exercise.  You see, when we attempt to walk Annabelle and prepare her by getting her harness and leash, the lazy bum literally hides under the kitchen table, sometimes forcing me or Will to literally drag her behind out.  Now, however, if it is too hot or we don’t have time for a walk, we have “the light”.  Oh yes, the light does the trick.  I’m sure many of you know what I’m talking about, but for the sake of my joy in telling it, I will elaborate.  Will goes outside in the dark with the flashlight.  He lets Annie out in the backyard with him.  He then proceeds to turn on the flashlight and move it around the backyard while the ball of black fur that is my dog becomes a light-obsessed whirling dervish.  Oh she is determined to catch that light!  It is quite entertaining.  Even better, the dog has so much fun that she doesn’t want to come back inside!  

4. Grasshopper legs.  Back when my brother was little (let’s say 6 or 7- although he may have done this when older as well), he used to run around the house while holding up the hem of his shorts on both legs, which resulted in me calling him “grasshopper legs”.  Well, we have found Grasshopper Legs Jr. in Eila…this past week, my child has begun to carry the torch for the next generation.  I don’t know why she started doing it, but she finds it hysterical, probably because she noticed right off that her mother finds it incredibly funny.   She runs across the living room holding up her shorts on either side, laughing the entire time.

5. Eila and Annie.  Eila, like most toddlers, loves animals and is fascinated by her Annabelle.  She currently tries to give Annie love by going up to her, and instead of hugging her or even kissing her, bows her head until it is just touching Annie’s side.  It is remarkably reminiscent of the respect and deference of the Chinese.  Konichiwa.

6. Crib diving.  In the mornings when I go in to get Eila out of her crib, I know she has slept well if she engages in the extreme toddler sport of crib diving.  She becomes very coy and rather than allowing me to lift her out of the crib, she will stand as if ready to come out, and then dive headfirst into her crib when I reach for her.  She does this repeatedly.  I’m glad we have not yet removed the crib bumper…

7.  May-men.  I love, love, love that Eila likes to pray.  When we pray at the kitchen table, at bedtime, or anytime during the day, you are very likely to see Eila clasp her hands together to pray along.  Even better, however, is that once we say “Amen”, she follows it up with her version of Amen, May-men.  It is the sweetest thing and it gets me every time.  I have no doubt that that must make Jesus smile.  

8. Eila has begun saying her own name, and while I can’t capture quite how she says it through writing, suffice it to say that her version of Eila is as precious as she is.  

9. Spontaneous hugs.  Not much is better than having your 16-month-old run up to you and give you a hug, especially when you crouch down and she hugs you tightly around the neck.

10. Sweet nothings…okay, so this one is about Eila too…the child loves to whisper.  She gets such a kick out of it.  She likes to sit in my lap and whisper her toddler nonsense mingled with her rapidly growing (and impressive I might add) vocabulary.  My favorite by moment of this by far occurred Thursday night during small group.  Our associate pastor’s son, who is 6 years old, was sitting in Eila’s chair with her.  I watched as she tapped him on the shoulder and proceeded to lean over and whisper in his ear.  My husband may not have been thrilled (concerned with years to come I’m sure ), but it was amazingly sweet.  

I will stop at 10 favorite things for now- my obsessive-compulsive nature wouldn’t let me stop before that nice round number and if I keep going, I would have to get to fifteen before it would seem right to stop again (yes, I recognize how crazy that is, but let me be).  And I need to go spend time with my husband…

Actually, I will break out of my mold and add an 11th favorite thing…

11.  Dove.  That is one of the nicknames my husband calls me.  As in “Whenever you’re ready, dove”, which he just said to me to gently signal that it is time to say “Adieu, adieu, to you and you and you”  (forgive the Sound of Music reference, but it was so fitting given the title…)