Thoughts for the day:
Ever have one of those days where you wake up and you just know that you shouldn't get out of bed? Where the screaming baby at 7:15AM is enough to make you rethink being a parent, the dogs barking at every blade of grass makes you want to open the gate and say good-bye? Today is one of those days for me. Addison woke up literally screaming, the dogs won't stop barking and I miss my mommy.
I think that being a mom must be the hardest job in the world. I think back on my twenty-six years and all the things my mom has gone through with me, never wavering on her love. I remember the pre-teen years the best. The "I hate you" moments, the rolling of the eyes or the total and utter disrespect. I know this hurt my mom. I remember her crying or telling my dad that she couldn't take it anymore. Then I remember her turning around and showing me unconditional love only a mom can possess. I remember her being able to turn off the anger she had for me at the moment of sheer disrespect and show me love.
My mom wasn't perfect, none are, no matter what we perceive. We often look back and laugh about all the silly things that mom did. My brother and I were constantly getting grounded from the phone. Constantly. My mom used to tape the phone so that we couldn't get it off the hook and mark a certain spot on the tape so she knew if we untaped it and used it. Well, we got smart enough to just retape the phone and make a new mark. After a while mom caught on and just took all the phones in the house to work with her. Looking back I laugh and say, "Mom what if the house would've burnt down or someone would have broke in" and she just says, "I don't know what I was thinking!". Oh mom!
In the recent years my mom and I have have become closer. I think it's the natural process of growing up but I've come to appreciate her and all she's done for me. I remember wanting a friendship with my mom and now I have it. I can tell her pretty much everything and feel comfortable doing so. I've realized that most of the things she has told me would happen have happened. I've also realized that when she told me to "take the good and leave the bad" from my upbringing she was right. There are things I won't do with Addison and Evie but most of the things my parents did with and for me I will do for them. It's amazing to have a mom to be there no matter what.
Now don't get me wrong. My mom and I still disagree. Sometimes I feel like she thinks I'm still 15 and sometimes she thinks I'm acting like I'm still 15. We don't always see eye to eye on things. She gives me advice I don't ask for or don't want to hear. She is after all still my mom. No matter how old I get she'll always be my mom and she'll always be there to offer advice, listen to my problems or wipe my tears.
Now that I'm a mom I've realized how big of a job it is. No, Addison isn't a pre-teen telling me she hates me or rolling her eyes at my 'mom jeans' but she's still a hand full. She still has those days where I would pay someone to take her away but the love doesn't leave. No matter how many times I'm slapped, pinched or bit I know she doesn't mean it. I am going to be lucky enough to have two little girls and have two mother/daughter relationships. Maybe it's paybacks? All I know is that I understand why my mom did most of the things she did. Will I be a different kind of mom then my mom was? Yes, I think I will do things a little different. Will I take the good and leave the bad? Absolutely! There was so many good things in the way my mom was a mom I can't wait to share them all with Addison and Evie.
I love my mom.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
What do I have to lose?
Thoughts for the day:
Okay, so I've been a bit slush keeping up this past week. No excuses, nothing exciting is going on, just pure laziness on my behalf. I'm sort of in this lull of things to write about. It's not that there isn't anything going on in my life or the world around me, it's just that, I've been feeling a little disconnected from it all. It's the feeling where you know of the current events in the world and you have an opinion but it's just not that important to you for some reason.
There has been a lot going on in the personal lives of people I care deeply about and I think that may be the reason for my lack of interest. Somethings good, somethings not. What I've learned in the last week or so is that the power of prayer really does work.
Okay, let me explain something to you. I have always been a Christian. I was baptized as an infant and my parents did an excellent job showing me a Christ like lifestyle. As a teenager, thanks to an ex-boyfriend, I became very involved in my faith. I liked feeling important to someone (God). After high school, I strayed. Not far, no drugs, sex rings or robberies, but I strayed non the less. I made stupid choices and let me come before Him. Well, in the last six months or so I've found that place I had in high school again. I've dug into my Bible, read uplifting Christian books and I've really prayed. Maybe it's becoming a mom, maybe it's the move, or maybe it's just God doing His thing. I dunno but I like it. So, when people have said, I'm praying for you, I've always thought, "gee, thanks, but I think God has already decided the outcome". Maybe it's true that God knows what the outcome is going to be but lately I've realized prayer really does get answered.
I have this friend, Jenny, who has been trying to get pregnant for almost two years. She is a dear friend and I have never met anyone who wanted a baby more then her, except her husband. These two are kind, generous and deserving people so after hearing how, month after month, she still wasn't pregnant I was starting to get discouraged with God. I started praying every night for them to find an answer as to why. It turned out that Jenny had endometriosis and needed surgery. After her surgery I think we all thought she would just get pregnant. At least I did. So I kept praying and month after month she kept calling to tell me she wasn't pregnant. They started on medication and nothing was happening. We talked about 2 months ago and she told me that her and Wade had signed up for an Invitro class and were just expecting that her last eggs weren't going to work. I kept telling her, God has a plan Jenny. Well, He came through big time. She is now six weeks pregnant. And although it is very early in her pregnancy prayers were answered. Of course the prayer now is that this baby remains strong and healthy as it grows but either way, they are going to have a baby.
Remember Erin and Jeff? They lost their little boy to SIDS about a month ago. Well, I am happy to report that just the other day Erin announced that she finally had a "good day". I know it's a small step but it's a step in the right direction. God is healing their hearts slowly and according to His plan. I am very proud to know Erin and Jeff. The dignity and strength they have shown, even through the rough days, is amazing. I am not sure that I could face another day the way they both have. God is doing things in their lives and all we can do is continue to pray that He heals them.
There are other things, too. Things that are too personal to these people to publicly talk about right now but God is working in their lives too. I have come to realize that everything that I have come to know again is so amazing in God. Will I stray again, maybe. Will I question God and my faith, everyday. Will I wonder what it would be like to be without Him, never. See, I have a very good friend who is an atheist and he often asks me, "So what if your putting all this work in for nothing? Won't it feel like a waste of time?". And this is my answer to all of you who ask the same thing. If I am wrong I lived a life (for the most part, I am human) of love, fulfillment and the idea of knowing that someone or something was taking absolute care of me. If he is wrong, the consequences are much worse. So I guess I'd rather believe now and be wrong later. I mean, what do I have to lose?
Okay, so I've been a bit slush keeping up this past week. No excuses, nothing exciting is going on, just pure laziness on my behalf. I'm sort of in this lull of things to write about. It's not that there isn't anything going on in my life or the world around me, it's just that, I've been feeling a little disconnected from it all. It's the feeling where you know of the current events in the world and you have an opinion but it's just not that important to you for some reason.
There has been a lot going on in the personal lives of people I care deeply about and I think that may be the reason for my lack of interest. Somethings good, somethings not. What I've learned in the last week or so is that the power of prayer really does work.
Okay, let me explain something to you. I have always been a Christian. I was baptized as an infant and my parents did an excellent job showing me a Christ like lifestyle. As a teenager, thanks to an ex-boyfriend, I became very involved in my faith. I liked feeling important to someone (God). After high school, I strayed. Not far, no drugs, sex rings or robberies, but I strayed non the less. I made stupid choices and let me come before Him. Well, in the last six months or so I've found that place I had in high school again. I've dug into my Bible, read uplifting Christian books and I've really prayed. Maybe it's becoming a mom, maybe it's the move, or maybe it's just God doing His thing. I dunno but I like it. So, when people have said, I'm praying for you, I've always thought, "gee, thanks, but I think God has already decided the outcome". Maybe it's true that God knows what the outcome is going to be but lately I've realized prayer really does get answered.
I have this friend, Jenny, who has been trying to get pregnant for almost two years. She is a dear friend and I have never met anyone who wanted a baby more then her, except her husband. These two are kind, generous and deserving people so after hearing how, month after month, she still wasn't pregnant I was starting to get discouraged with God. I started praying every night for them to find an answer as to why. It turned out that Jenny had endometriosis and needed surgery. After her surgery I think we all thought she would just get pregnant. At least I did. So I kept praying and month after month she kept calling to tell me she wasn't pregnant. They started on medication and nothing was happening. We talked about 2 months ago and she told me that her and Wade had signed up for an Invitro class and were just expecting that her last eggs weren't going to work. I kept telling her, God has a plan Jenny. Well, He came through big time. She is now six weeks pregnant. And although it is very early in her pregnancy prayers were answered. Of course the prayer now is that this baby remains strong and healthy as it grows but either way, they are going to have a baby.
Remember Erin and Jeff? They lost their little boy to SIDS about a month ago. Well, I am happy to report that just the other day Erin announced that she finally had a "good day". I know it's a small step but it's a step in the right direction. God is healing their hearts slowly and according to His plan. I am very proud to know Erin and Jeff. The dignity and strength they have shown, even through the rough days, is amazing. I am not sure that I could face another day the way they both have. God is doing things in their lives and all we can do is continue to pray that He heals them.
There are other things, too. Things that are too personal to these people to publicly talk about right now but God is working in their lives too. I have come to realize that everything that I have come to know again is so amazing in God. Will I stray again, maybe. Will I question God and my faith, everyday. Will I wonder what it would be like to be without Him, never. See, I have a very good friend who is an atheist and he often asks me, "So what if your putting all this work in for nothing? Won't it feel like a waste of time?". And this is my answer to all of you who ask the same thing. If I am wrong I lived a life (for the most part, I am human) of love, fulfillment and the idea of knowing that someone or something was taking absolute care of me. If he is wrong, the consequences are much worse. So I guess I'd rather believe now and be wrong later. I mean, what do I have to lose?
Friday, April 23, 2010
A page from my journal: Dec. 27th, 2008
Thoughts for the Day:
Since I couldn't think of anything to write about today I decided that I would share with you all a journal entry I wrote to Addison when I was about 7 months pregnant with her.
Dear Sweet Baby,
We've been together now for 7 months and I've enjoyed this time with you thoroughly. You have recently moved very low in my belly and are moving around a lot now. I am sure you have mastered a cartwheel, a downward dog and a back handspring. You're dad is starting to experience your movements now as they are so strong he can see my belly moving!
We are starting to really prepare for you now. Your bedroom is beautiful. Some days, when I am getting anxious to meet you, I go in your room, lay on your floor and talk to you about all the things you will see when you enter the world. I tell you about you. What I wish for you and what I hope to instill in you. We've had some very intense conversations you & I. You're often very still when I am talking to you, I like to think you enjoy the sound of my voice. I hope that you recognize me as soon as you are born.
I want to tell you about your dad since you don't get to spend as much time with him. He is a pretty amazing guy, Addie. He is so excited to see you! He often talks to you, rubs my belly in hopes you'll give him a little kick and feeds us all the naughty things we shouldn't eat! Your dad is one of the hardest worker's I've ever met. He goes to work each day for us. He doesn't complain when we can't buy something he wants and he loves spending our extra money on you!
He will teach you so many things I can not. He'll teach you about animals, football, Nebraska and how to laugh at everything. He'll show you how to treat people with respect and how to gain respect from people. He will never turn his back on you no matter what. He is very wise. He has wise things to tell you. Please listen to him. And remember to be kind when he doesn't understand the jargon of a girl, he'll be trying, I promise.
Your grandparents are excited to meet you too. Grammy Penny asks how you are every day. She has bought you more clothes then I can put in your drawers! You are going to be a spoiled little lady!!
Addie, I can't wait to hold you in my arms, smell your smell, kiss your lips and tell you that Mommy loves you. Please be kind on your way out, this is my first time too. We can do this together, I promise. You are everything I have ever wanted and I haven't even met you yet. I love you sweet baby girl.
Love,
Mommy
Since I couldn't think of anything to write about today I decided that I would share with you all a journal entry I wrote to Addison when I was about 7 months pregnant with her.
Dear Sweet Baby,
We've been together now for 7 months and I've enjoyed this time with you thoroughly. You have recently moved very low in my belly and are moving around a lot now. I am sure you have mastered a cartwheel, a downward dog and a back handspring. You're dad is starting to experience your movements now as they are so strong he can see my belly moving!
We are starting to really prepare for you now. Your bedroom is beautiful. Some days, when I am getting anxious to meet you, I go in your room, lay on your floor and talk to you about all the things you will see when you enter the world. I tell you about you. What I wish for you and what I hope to instill in you. We've had some very intense conversations you & I. You're often very still when I am talking to you, I like to think you enjoy the sound of my voice. I hope that you recognize me as soon as you are born.
I want to tell you about your dad since you don't get to spend as much time with him. He is a pretty amazing guy, Addie. He is so excited to see you! He often talks to you, rubs my belly in hopes you'll give him a little kick and feeds us all the naughty things we shouldn't eat! Your dad is one of the hardest worker's I've ever met. He goes to work each day for us. He doesn't complain when we can't buy something he wants and he loves spending our extra money on you!
He will teach you so many things I can not. He'll teach you about animals, football, Nebraska and how to laugh at everything. He'll show you how to treat people with respect and how to gain respect from people. He will never turn his back on you no matter what. He is very wise. He has wise things to tell you. Please listen to him. And remember to be kind when he doesn't understand the jargon of a girl, he'll be trying, I promise.
Your grandparents are excited to meet you too. Grammy Penny asks how you are every day. She has bought you more clothes then I can put in your drawers! You are going to be a spoiled little lady!!
Addie, I can't wait to hold you in my arms, smell your smell, kiss your lips and tell you that Mommy loves you. Please be kind on your way out, this is my first time too. We can do this together, I promise. You are everything I have ever wanted and I haven't even met you yet. I love you sweet baby girl.
Love,
Mommy
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Who likes to share anyway?
Thoughts for tomorrow:
I've been at a stand still for something to write about. I asked Billy to give me a subject for tonight and his suggestion was poop. There are a lot of stories I could tell you but I figured I'd save that topic for another rainy day (You're Welcome!).
I have this love/hate relationship with sharing. I love to give. I love to buy presents. I love to see the light in someones eyes. I'm not good at sharing. If I'm eating ice cream I don't want to give you a bite, get your own. If I'm reading a magazine I don't want to give it to you for a minute, wait until I'm done. If you forgot your toothbrush, don't touch mine.
Okay, truth be told that's the real issue tonight. I think that sharing toothbrushes is possibly thee grossest thing in the entire world. And, to my demay, my husband uses my toothbrush. Ick. Yes, I know I kiss him. Yes, I know I've created children with him. No, I do not like sharing my toothbrush. Gross, yuck, ick. I'd rather share my underwear, okay, maybe not but still.
Well, the shoe was on the other foot on Thursday evening. I went to the gym and brought my toothbrush with to freshen up after my workout. I left it there. Not realizing this until I went to brush my teeth Thursday night I was in a tough spot. There is was, Billy's toothbrush. It looked so innocent sitting there in the holder, toothpaste next door. I himmed and haued and finally decided that if I run it under extremely hot water I could do it.
Gross, yuck, ick. It was the shortest teeth brushing in human history. And you know what, I didn't die. I can't figure out this phobia. I don't mind his germs but thinking about putting his mouth germs in my mouth is disgusting to me.
I'm really not sure why I decided to write about this tonight. It sort of defeats the "I am woman hear me roar" attitude of my blog but I figured it was funny and maybe you can relate.
On a more positive note: I am writing tomorrow's blog tonight because I have my last oncology appointment tomorrow and will be out of town all day. Yay! All that hard work paid off. I'm a little sad that Londer (my doctor) and Kate will be memories of my past but they are the two that really got me through this. If you're ever faced with the horrible news that you have cancer Londer is the man to see. And Kate, wow, there aren't even words. She is probably the best nurse a person could ask for. She also took time out of her crazy day to listen to me cry, tell me I'd be okay, or make me come in for an unexpected visit because I didn't sound good. She is one fantastic person. A saint if you will. Kate, Dr. Londer and all the HHH Cancer Center staff, thank you for life.
I've been at a stand still for something to write about. I asked Billy to give me a subject for tonight and his suggestion was poop. There are a lot of stories I could tell you but I figured I'd save that topic for another rainy day (You're Welcome!).
I have this love/hate relationship with sharing. I love to give. I love to buy presents. I love to see the light in someones eyes. I'm not good at sharing. If I'm eating ice cream I don't want to give you a bite, get your own. If I'm reading a magazine I don't want to give it to you for a minute, wait until I'm done. If you forgot your toothbrush, don't touch mine.
Okay, truth be told that's the real issue tonight. I think that sharing toothbrushes is possibly thee grossest thing in the entire world. And, to my demay, my husband uses my toothbrush. Ick. Yes, I know I kiss him. Yes, I know I've created children with him. No, I do not like sharing my toothbrush. Gross, yuck, ick. I'd rather share my underwear, okay, maybe not but still.
Well, the shoe was on the other foot on Thursday evening. I went to the gym and brought my toothbrush with to freshen up after my workout. I left it there. Not realizing this until I went to brush my teeth Thursday night I was in a tough spot. There is was, Billy's toothbrush. It looked so innocent sitting there in the holder, toothpaste next door. I himmed and haued and finally decided that if I run it under extremely hot water I could do it.
Gross, yuck, ick. It was the shortest teeth brushing in human history. And you know what, I didn't die. I can't figure out this phobia. I don't mind his germs but thinking about putting his mouth germs in my mouth is disgusting to me.
I'm really not sure why I decided to write about this tonight. It sort of defeats the "I am woman hear me roar" attitude of my blog but I figured it was funny and maybe you can relate.
On a more positive note: I am writing tomorrow's blog tonight because I have my last oncology appointment tomorrow and will be out of town all day. Yay! All that hard work paid off. I'm a little sad that Londer (my doctor) and Kate will be memories of my past but they are the two that really got me through this. If you're ever faced with the horrible news that you have cancer Londer is the man to see. And Kate, wow, there aren't even words. She is probably the best nurse a person could ask for. She also took time out of her crazy day to listen to me cry, tell me I'd be okay, or make me come in for an unexpected visit because I didn't sound good. She is one fantastic person. A saint if you will. Kate, Dr. Londer and all the HHH Cancer Center staff, thank you for life.
Security Blanket
Thoughts for the day:
Do you have something you couldn't live without? A baseball card. A picture of a favorite grandparent. Maybe a childhood toy that you won't throw away. To anyone else this object is useless junk but to you it's life. I have something that, next to my daughter(s) and husband (most days) is thee most important thing in the world to me. My baby blanket.
My mom calls it a rag. She tells me when we go to someone else's house that I am not allowed to bring it out of the bedroom. She's hid it from me for 2 days and I almost cried before she'd give it back. My dad just shakes his head. Whenever my childhood friends see that I have it they normally comment about how, "you still have that thing". And my very defensive answer is, YES.
See to me this blanket is the one thing that hasn't left. It's done everything I've done, been there for everything I've been there for, it's my friend. I tell this blanket everything. Literally. When I was young I would tell this blanket how mean my brother was, as a teenager I'm sure the story was something about how I hated my parents or about my high school boyfriend. As an adult this blanket has gone to Guatemala, Mexico, my wedding, honeymoon, through cancer with me and yes, was probably even in the bed when I conceived my two daughters. Needless to say, I love my blanket.
Well, my blanket is starting to look a little ratty. I'm pretty sure my Aunt Sue has been sewing holes in it since I was 10. It no longer has stuffing because, as I put it, Billy de-hearted my blankey. One side of it is completely open and it really needs an overhaul but to me, it's still perfect.
What is it about these objects that make them so hard to part with? Is it because it's from my childhood or does it really hold some magical power over me? I, honest to God, do not sleep well without my blanket. I toss and turn and try to find something to "replace" it for the night. Last night was one of those nights. I accidentally forgot my blanket at my mom and dad's house yesterday. I am genuinely concerned they are going to in someway harm it. I called my mom last night and got their voicemail. Sternly, I left this as a message, "I left my blanket folded downstairs on the bed. If you hurt it in anyway I will withhold your grandchildren from you. This is not a threat." I hope they know I'm very serious.
Security blankets. What's yours? Maybe it's not a blanket. Maybe it's not something you take to sleepover. Maybe it's something you wouldn't admit to your best friend. Mine is a blanket. I do take it to sleepovers and I'd admit that to my best friend, boss or a stranger on the street. As I've told my husband, don't judge me just deal.
Do you have something you couldn't live without? A baseball card. A picture of a favorite grandparent. Maybe a childhood toy that you won't throw away. To anyone else this object is useless junk but to you it's life. I have something that, next to my daughter(s) and husband (most days) is thee most important thing in the world to me. My baby blanket.
My mom calls it a rag. She tells me when we go to someone else's house that I am not allowed to bring it out of the bedroom. She's hid it from me for 2 days and I almost cried before she'd give it back. My dad just shakes his head. Whenever my childhood friends see that I have it they normally comment about how, "you still have that thing". And my very defensive answer is, YES.
See to me this blanket is the one thing that hasn't left. It's done everything I've done, been there for everything I've been there for, it's my friend. I tell this blanket everything. Literally. When I was young I would tell this blanket how mean my brother was, as a teenager I'm sure the story was something about how I hated my parents or about my high school boyfriend. As an adult this blanket has gone to Guatemala, Mexico, my wedding, honeymoon, through cancer with me and yes, was probably even in the bed when I conceived my two daughters. Needless to say, I love my blanket.
Well, my blanket is starting to look a little ratty. I'm pretty sure my Aunt Sue has been sewing holes in it since I was 10. It no longer has stuffing because, as I put it, Billy de-hearted my blankey. One side of it is completely open and it really needs an overhaul but to me, it's still perfect.
What is it about these objects that make them so hard to part with? Is it because it's from my childhood or does it really hold some magical power over me? I, honest to God, do not sleep well without my blanket. I toss and turn and try to find something to "replace" it for the night. Last night was one of those nights. I accidentally forgot my blanket at my mom and dad's house yesterday. I am genuinely concerned they are going to in someway harm it. I called my mom last night and got their voicemail. Sternly, I left this as a message, "I left my blanket folded downstairs on the bed. If you hurt it in anyway I will withhold your grandchildren from you. This is not a threat." I hope they know I'm very serious.
Security blankets. What's yours? Maybe it's not a blanket. Maybe it's not something you take to sleepover. Maybe it's something you wouldn't admit to your best friend. Mine is a blanket. I do take it to sleepovers and I'd admit that to my best friend, boss or a stranger on the street. As I've told my husband, don't judge me just deal.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Home is Where the Heart is, unfortunately.
Thoughts for the day:
It's true that I don't really like Mason City. It's also true that I am such a homebody that being at my parents house is where I am most comfortable. However, I've decided it's also true that home is where your heart is.
Addison and I spent the last 4 days in Chetek at my parents house and although it was a good time, I couldn't wait to come back to, eh hm, Mason City. While I was driving home I kept thinking, almost home, almost there and then I realized what I was calling Mason City, home.
My home is, and always will be, where my husband and children are. I couldn't wait to get to the place where we have created a life together. And although I don't really like Mason City and although this house isn't 'ours' it's my home now because my family is here.
Then something else hit me, I have my own family. Addison, and soon Evie, is mine to mold, create, love and teach just like my parents did for me. I don't need to worry about anyone else's opinion and therefore need to quit asking for it. I need to set the boundaries in which I am going to let both Billy and my parents live in. It's my job for her (them) to turn out to be an incredible human being.
So I guess it's true. No matter where I rest my head. No matter where my mom and dad are anymore. My home is where Billy, Addie and soon Evie are, even if it means Mason City.
It's true that I don't really like Mason City. It's also true that I am such a homebody that being at my parents house is where I am most comfortable. However, I've decided it's also true that home is where your heart is.
Addison and I spent the last 4 days in Chetek at my parents house and although it was a good time, I couldn't wait to come back to, eh hm, Mason City. While I was driving home I kept thinking, almost home, almost there and then I realized what I was calling Mason City, home.
My home is, and always will be, where my husband and children are. I couldn't wait to get to the place where we have created a life together. And although I don't really like Mason City and although this house isn't 'ours' it's my home now because my family is here.
Then something else hit me, I have my own family. Addison, and soon Evie, is mine to mold, create, love and teach just like my parents did for me. I don't need to worry about anyone else's opinion and therefore need to quit asking for it. I need to set the boundaries in which I am going to let both Billy and my parents live in. It's my job for her (them) to turn out to be an incredible human being.
So I guess it's true. No matter where I rest my head. No matter where my mom and dad are anymore. My home is where Billy, Addie and soon Evie are, even if it means Mason City.
Friday, April 16, 2010
All about Addie, really.
Thoughts for today:
Well, I suppose I could lay-off one of the many life lessons God has put in front of me and just update you on the life of the Folkerts family.
We'll start with Addison, after all, she's the most important. Addie will be 14 months old on the 19th of April. She is getting so big and amazingly smart. She is still in the 90th percentile for weight and the 75th for height. Her hair is really growing and she loves combing it with mommy in the mornings. She is eating all "normal" foods now, no more baby food for her! She loves milk and would drink it non-stop if I'd let her. She's learned so many new things too...
She learned how to clap. Now whenever she's done something she thinks she deserves praise over she claps. She's also learned that when she is doing something naughty a little smile with some clapping normally distracts mommy from punishment.
She is in a pretty solid routine and KNOWS it. In the mornings she sits on the sink and brushes her teeth with mommy. Then when we get downstairs she walks right to the refrigerator and waits for mommy to get her milk. I then tell her to find her chair and she walks to her highchair and puts her arms up. She gets fruit while I make her breakfast. After breakfast we play play play! At 11:30 I start making lunch and she patiently waits by her chair again. After lunch it's time for nap. After nap, it's time to make dinner. This is her favorite time of day because she knows daddy will be home soon. She goes to the door to "check" if he's there constantly. Then, daddy comes home and we squeal with delight and give him hugs and then eat. After dinner we play play play. Daddy tells her it's night night time, she gives me kisses, waves goodbye and they go to the bath and bed. It's perfect. She knows it, she's content in it and it gives her comfort.
She learned how to blow kisses, sort of. You tell her that you love her and she turns and smacks those lips at you. It's so sweet. Even sweeter are her slobbery open mouth kisses. They are wet, long and sometimes full of teeth but she is so proud when she gives you one. It's fantastic.
She's recently figured out how to drink out of a big girl cup with a big girl straw. She's sleeping in a big girl bed. She's a big girl!
She loves to climb up on her stool and look out the window at the big girls and boys playing outside. She giggles and smiles at them.
All in all, she's pretty amazing. She's still the happiest kid I know. She is constantly smiling and talking. There isn't a corner in our house that hasn't been explored, a noise that I haven't heard. She's amazing, oh have I mentioned that before?
Now on to Billy. He still loves his job. He still does something with farming. He's the same.
Me, I'm still pregnant. I'm still not really showing. I still stay at home with my (amazing) daughter. And, we still live in Iowa.
There's the update! Things here are slow, steady and normal. Honestly, that's the way I like it.
Well, I suppose I could lay-off one of the many life lessons God has put in front of me and just update you on the life of the Folkerts family.
We'll start with Addison, after all, she's the most important. Addie will be 14 months old on the 19th of April. She is getting so big and amazingly smart. She is still in the 90th percentile for weight and the 75th for height. Her hair is really growing and she loves combing it with mommy in the mornings. She is eating all "normal" foods now, no more baby food for her! She loves milk and would drink it non-stop if I'd let her. She's learned so many new things too...
She learned how to clap. Now whenever she's done something she thinks she deserves praise over she claps. She's also learned that when she is doing something naughty a little smile with some clapping normally distracts mommy from punishment.
She is in a pretty solid routine and KNOWS it. In the mornings she sits on the sink and brushes her teeth with mommy. Then when we get downstairs she walks right to the refrigerator and waits for mommy to get her milk. I then tell her to find her chair and she walks to her highchair and puts her arms up. She gets fruit while I make her breakfast. After breakfast we play play play! At 11:30 I start making lunch and she patiently waits by her chair again. After lunch it's time for nap. After nap, it's time to make dinner. This is her favorite time of day because she knows daddy will be home soon. She goes to the door to "check" if he's there constantly. Then, daddy comes home and we squeal with delight and give him hugs and then eat. After dinner we play play play. Daddy tells her it's night night time, she gives me kisses, waves goodbye and they go to the bath and bed. It's perfect. She knows it, she's content in it and it gives her comfort.
She learned how to blow kisses, sort of. You tell her that you love her and she turns and smacks those lips at you. It's so sweet. Even sweeter are her slobbery open mouth kisses. They are wet, long and sometimes full of teeth but she is so proud when she gives you one. It's fantastic.
She's recently figured out how to drink out of a big girl cup with a big girl straw. She's sleeping in a big girl bed. She's a big girl!
She loves to climb up on her stool and look out the window at the big girls and boys playing outside. She giggles and smiles at them.
All in all, she's pretty amazing. She's still the happiest kid I know. She is constantly smiling and talking. There isn't a corner in our house that hasn't been explored, a noise that I haven't heard. She's amazing, oh have I mentioned that before?
Now on to Billy. He still loves his job. He still does something with farming. He's the same.
Me, I'm still pregnant. I'm still not really showing. I still stay at home with my (amazing) daughter. And, we still live in Iowa.
There's the update! Things here are slow, steady and normal. Honestly, that's the way I like it.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Lemons into Lemonade
Thoughts for the day:
Do you ever realize that we contribute the words, why me, to a negative action? Why did I lose my job? Why are we so broke? Why did I get cancer? Why won't my kids behave? We never ask why something happened that was positive in our lives. We assume that God should just hand us the good and we should wallow when the negative comes to play.
I guess this all came to me after my OB appointment today. The doctor told me how I am looking exceptionally good, how my weight is still low and my baby looks and sounds fabulous. I left expecting to hear all these good things. I didn't ask God, why me? Why am I being blessed with another healthy baby when I have friends who are struggling to get pregnant? I just assumed that God would give me a normal, healthy little girl.
I know this may spark some anger, that's okay, I truly believe that my generation and possibly the one after me feels entitled. This age group, 18-30ish, has had everything handed to them. The economy was great while we were growing up so our parents weren't struggling to find work, if they wanted a job, it was there. We all had stuff. We all did things. None of us really ever thought, why me?,while things were good. We just assumed it was the way it was supposed to be.
Things have changed. Many people my age are losing jobs and gaining debt. We ask, why me? now that things are bad. Mom and Dad can't help us out because, let's face it, they took a hit in this economy too. My parents are very smart with their money. My dad understands stocks and when to buy and sell. He and my mom took a hit 2 1/2 years ago when the stock market crashed and just last night my dad made a comment they finally made that up. They are approximately 10 years away from retirement and they lost half of their money. They didn't ask why me? they just got back on that horse and recovered their loses.
I want to ask why me? in a positive way and find answers to the negative why me's? Here's my chance:
Why did I get cancer? (My biggest and daily why me for a long time) Cancer wasn't a gift but God gave me that cross to bare for a purpose, to see that I was worth something. It took a long time to see but my self-esteem is much higher after realizing that there are people out there who really would miss me if I was gone. It also made me realize the type of man my husband was. He didn't run. He didn't leave. He sat by my bedside every night. He told me that I was beautiful when I had no hair and the blackest circles under my eyes.
Why have we gone through financial struggles?
Well, honestly, a lot of it was stupidity. Thinking that we needed a lifestyle we couldn't support. Living beyond our means (that entitled thing again). I also think that our financial struggles have allowed us to bare it all to each other. It's hard but our "how are we going to pay this" talks actually make us get real with real issues. It's made us decide what is important for our family and what isn't. It's given us the chance to set goals for ourselves and it feels good when we achieve them.
Why am I blessed with an amazing daughter?
Well, obvious, I'm amazing! OK, not really, but I do wonder this a lot. And then I realize that she is an image of God. She is Christ-like. She is still innocent and pure. I hope to raise her to have the confidence I never had and the love I did have. I want her to know that even in her darkest days, I am there. She's pretty cool, I guess I'll keep thanking God for her!
Why do I live in Iowa? (seriously, WHY?!)
Maybe it's my inability to change but Iowa is definitely been my biggest why as of late. The other night I was trying to find a Bible verse for someone and stumbled across an old youth group study we did at Chi Alpha at UMD. It was about how God has a plan for us (duh) and that sometimes we don't agree with His plan (double duh) but that this plan is for our own good (okay, whaaa?). Then it hit me. Billy and I, although always strong in our marriage, were starting to live separate lives. We didn't spend a lot of quality time as a family. He'd work during the day and I'd work in the evening. He had bowling on Monday nights and softball on Wednesday nights. I had book club on Tuesday nights and worked Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Moving here has allowed us to spend some quality time together, maybe even too much! We have set a routine and it gives us time to catch up on our day. Although mine is pretty much the same everyday, he enjoys hearing the new things Addie and I did or the funny "you'll never believe" stories.
I guess what I am saying is that we need to stop taking the why me's? in life and making them negative all the time. We, as a generation, need to realize that there are people who have it A LOT worse then us. We need to make lemons into lemonade.
Do you ever realize that we contribute the words, why me, to a negative action? Why did I lose my job? Why are we so broke? Why did I get cancer? Why won't my kids behave? We never ask why something happened that was positive in our lives. We assume that God should just hand us the good and we should wallow when the negative comes to play.
I guess this all came to me after my OB appointment today. The doctor told me how I am looking exceptionally good, how my weight is still low and my baby looks and sounds fabulous. I left expecting to hear all these good things. I didn't ask God, why me? Why am I being blessed with another healthy baby when I have friends who are struggling to get pregnant? I just assumed that God would give me a normal, healthy little girl.
I know this may spark some anger, that's okay, I truly believe that my generation and possibly the one after me feels entitled. This age group, 18-30ish, has had everything handed to them. The economy was great while we were growing up so our parents weren't struggling to find work, if they wanted a job, it was there. We all had stuff. We all did things. None of us really ever thought, why me?,while things were good. We just assumed it was the way it was supposed to be.
Things have changed. Many people my age are losing jobs and gaining debt. We ask, why me? now that things are bad. Mom and Dad can't help us out because, let's face it, they took a hit in this economy too. My parents are very smart with their money. My dad understands stocks and when to buy and sell. He and my mom took a hit 2 1/2 years ago when the stock market crashed and just last night my dad made a comment they finally made that up. They are approximately 10 years away from retirement and they lost half of their money. They didn't ask why me? they just got back on that horse and recovered their loses.
I want to ask why me? in a positive way and find answers to the negative why me's? Here's my chance:
Why did I get cancer? (My biggest and daily why me for a long time) Cancer wasn't a gift but God gave me that cross to bare for a purpose, to see that I was worth something. It took a long time to see but my self-esteem is much higher after realizing that there are people out there who really would miss me if I was gone. It also made me realize the type of man my husband was. He didn't run. He didn't leave. He sat by my bedside every night. He told me that I was beautiful when I had no hair and the blackest circles under my eyes.
Why have we gone through financial struggles?
Well, honestly, a lot of it was stupidity. Thinking that we needed a lifestyle we couldn't support. Living beyond our means (that entitled thing again). I also think that our financial struggles have allowed us to bare it all to each other. It's hard but our "how are we going to pay this" talks actually make us get real with real issues. It's made us decide what is important for our family and what isn't. It's given us the chance to set goals for ourselves and it feels good when we achieve them.
Why am I blessed with an amazing daughter?
Well, obvious, I'm amazing! OK, not really, but I do wonder this a lot. And then I realize that she is an image of God. She is Christ-like. She is still innocent and pure. I hope to raise her to have the confidence I never had and the love I did have. I want her to know that even in her darkest days, I am there. She's pretty cool, I guess I'll keep thanking God for her!
Why do I live in Iowa? (seriously, WHY?!)
Maybe it's my inability to change but Iowa is definitely been my biggest why as of late. The other night I was trying to find a Bible verse for someone and stumbled across an old youth group study we did at Chi Alpha at UMD. It was about how God has a plan for us (duh) and that sometimes we don't agree with His plan (double duh) but that this plan is for our own good (okay, whaaa?). Then it hit me. Billy and I, although always strong in our marriage, were starting to live separate lives. We didn't spend a lot of quality time as a family. He'd work during the day and I'd work in the evening. He had bowling on Monday nights and softball on Wednesday nights. I had book club on Tuesday nights and worked Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Moving here has allowed us to spend some quality time together, maybe even too much! We have set a routine and it gives us time to catch up on our day. Although mine is pretty much the same everyday, he enjoys hearing the new things Addie and I did or the funny "you'll never believe" stories.
I guess what I am saying is that we need to stop taking the why me's? in life and making them negative all the time. We, as a generation, need to realize that there are people who have it A LOT worse then us. We need to make lemons into lemonade.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Three Years
Thoughts for the day:
It's been three years since I sat in that chair. Three years since I wore that hat. Three years since I wondered, "what if".It's been three years. It's been three years since that last hospital stay. Three years since the last ABVD. Three years since the cards and the cake. Three years.
Three years ago on Friday, April 13th I sat in that chair, wearing that hat, eating that cake and receiving my last dose of ABVD, chemotherapy. It's been 2 years 339 days since I heard the words, "you're cancer free". It's been three years, but whose counting?
This day has been special the last two years as well. A milestone if you will. I've received phone calls and flowers to celebrate how much closer I was getting to recovery. Complete recovery. There is something about being in remission. It's this weird place to be, in holding. Waiting for the days, months and years to pass to the day you can truly believe that you're no longer a cancer patient. It's something that most people don't know you think about but yet it's a little thought in the back of your head when the time for another scan comes up.
I don't think about being a cancer patient much anymore. I think about it when I see my scars or when I see the picture of me with my amazing medical team on my last day of chemotherapy. I think about it so little that sometimes I actually forget.
Then there is a harsh reminder that I went through the journey I did, first every 3 months then every six. Waiting for the results of a cancer screening is horribly painful, no matter how far out you are. I become introverted, scared, sad and very irritable during those few days. I know that no news is good news but not knowing wears on your emotions. There's that voice in the back of your head again, the one saying, what if?.
During the past three years I've thought, "it's back" when the pain in my back or chest returned. It seems as if in the beginning of recovery every ache and pain is a what if. Luckily, that feeling slowly subsides and you realize that you are only human and will have aches and pains!
I am one of the lucky ones who got to hear the word remission. I got my scans when scheduled, except with I was pregnant with my beautiful daughter, and waited for those results. I'm glad that God chose for me to go through this experience and feel these feeling. Why? Because today it's been three years.
The waiting, the wondering and the hoping is done. I am three years cancer free. I am cured.
Friday, April 9, 2010
First Impressions
Thoughts for the day:
First impressions are lasting impressions.
I remember hearing those words so many times in school. And, I suppose, to an extent, it's true. I remember the first time I met most of the important people in my life. My husband, my friends: Tori, Karen, Dor, and my sister-in-law, Vicki. I remember my first thoughts and my first feelings. It's a good thing I took a little time to look beyond those all important first impressions.
I met my husband at a bar. We were drinking. He seemed cool. On our second date I met him at his house. He walked out and was wearing, no kidding, a green zip-up Puma athletic jacket, a matching green belt and you've got it, a green pair of Puma shoes. I just kept thinking, SERIOUSLY?! But, I went out with him that night. We went to Lake Calhoun, sat on a blanket, watched the sun go down and drank a bottle of wine. He was funny and sweet. Beyond his terrible choice in clothing that night, this guy was great. I'm glad I let my first impression go.
I often think about the first impression I give off to people who don't know me. See, I am super awkward in large social settings. I know that seems hard to believe for people who've known me all my life but I've changed a lot since cancer. I just awkwardly sit in the back round and take it all in. I've learned, from a good friend, that her first impression of me was not good. She bluntly told me, "I totally thought you were a bitch". I get that. Girl in the corner, watching, evaluating, not participating. After she got to know me better and I opened up a little more she realized that I just don't do well with people I don't know. But it makes me wonder, how many people have had that first impression of me and not looked beyond it?
I know I've done that. I've judged someone off of my first impressions and left it at that. What's worse is that I've judged someone off of another person's first impression. I've let someone tell me whether or not I like someone. It seems irrational when I say it out loud but I know I've done it. It makes me wonder how many friendships I've past up because I thought the person looked a certain way. It's ridiculous.
I think as an adult it's our job to let first impressions go and get to know the person on the inside. I've realized that I might be surprised with the friendships that are formed when I take a little time to know the real person. I mean, how much can we really learn from an outward appearance. I remember another saying we learned in school (which contradicts the first statement):
You can't judge a book by it's cover.
First impressions are lasting impressions.
I remember hearing those words so many times in school. And, I suppose, to an extent, it's true. I remember the first time I met most of the important people in my life. My husband, my friends: Tori, Karen, Dor, and my sister-in-law, Vicki. I remember my first thoughts and my first feelings. It's a good thing I took a little time to look beyond those all important first impressions.
I met my husband at a bar. We were drinking. He seemed cool. On our second date I met him at his house. He walked out and was wearing, no kidding, a green zip-up Puma athletic jacket, a matching green belt and you've got it, a green pair of Puma shoes. I just kept thinking, SERIOUSLY?! But, I went out with him that night. We went to Lake Calhoun, sat on a blanket, watched the sun go down and drank a bottle of wine. He was funny and sweet. Beyond his terrible choice in clothing that night, this guy was great. I'm glad I let my first impression go.
I often think about the first impression I give off to people who don't know me. See, I am super awkward in large social settings. I know that seems hard to believe for people who've known me all my life but I've changed a lot since cancer. I just awkwardly sit in the back round and take it all in. I've learned, from a good friend, that her first impression of me was not good. She bluntly told me, "I totally thought you were a bitch". I get that. Girl in the corner, watching, evaluating, not participating. After she got to know me better and I opened up a little more she realized that I just don't do well with people I don't know. But it makes me wonder, how many people have had that first impression of me and not looked beyond it?
I know I've done that. I've judged someone off of my first impressions and left it at that. What's worse is that I've judged someone off of another person's first impression. I've let someone tell me whether or not I like someone. It seems irrational when I say it out loud but I know I've done it. It makes me wonder how many friendships I've past up because I thought the person looked a certain way. It's ridiculous.
I think as an adult it's our job to let first impressions go and get to know the person on the inside. I've realized that I might be surprised with the friendships that are formed when I take a little time to know the real person. I mean, how much can we really learn from an outward appearance. I remember another saying we learned in school (which contradicts the first statement):
You can't judge a book by it's cover.
I don't owe you anything.
Thoughts for the day:
We've all heard the sayings: I owe you one, or You pat my back I'll pat yours, or I'll get you back. In fact, I am sure most of us have said them. Is there an intention to actually "get them back"? Yeah, I suppose. Does it happen a lot? I don't know.
This thought all came about yesterday as I was doing some reflection on a relationship I have with "Bob". (Bob is not a real person. Bob is the he/she that this blog is about) See Bob keeps score. Bob makes sure that if they do something for me, I do something for them. Bob makes me feel like I owe them something. I'm sure you know the type.
See, I had cancer and very few of my "friends" stayed active "friends" during that time. A lot of them had great intentions and would call here or there but I had about 5 real friends who would give up a Friday night at the bar (we were 22) to stay home with me after a chemo treatment, watch me moan and groan and then fall asleep at 8PM. I often told them, you don't have to do this or "I owe you one". And I meant it and with Bob I've been trying to payoff my debt since.
With Bob I keep paying off my debt but never feel like it's enough. I've done all I can do for this person. Given all the give I have for them. I've listened, loved, done, & given everything I have to make this person see that I appreciate them being there for me. But I can tell That Bob thinks I still owe them something.
Well, last night while thinking about how this relationship is draining and more work then I want to put in anymore I realized something. I don't owe Bob anything. Bob was given the same choice the rest of my "friends" were given. Stay or go. I didn't beg, I didn't ask and I certainly didn't expect for Bob to stay around and I'd "get him back". I was sick, really sick. I needed Bob to be there when I needed to cry, when I needed to vent or when I got so scared that this might be the end. And Bob did all that but with the idea that I owed them something.
Do you know someone like "Bob"? Are you putting so much work into a relationship and still feeling drained? Are you Bob? I don't think it's how relationships, of any kind, should be. Self-serving. So now I'm standing face to face with two choices, both equally as hard, tell Bob that it's time our relationship ends or explain to Bob, I don't owe you anything.
We've all heard the sayings: I owe you one, or You pat my back I'll pat yours, or I'll get you back. In fact, I am sure most of us have said them. Is there an intention to actually "get them back"? Yeah, I suppose. Does it happen a lot? I don't know.
This thought all came about yesterday as I was doing some reflection on a relationship I have with "Bob". (Bob is not a real person. Bob is the he/she that this blog is about) See Bob keeps score. Bob makes sure that if they do something for me, I do something for them. Bob makes me feel like I owe them something. I'm sure you know the type.
See, I had cancer and very few of my "friends" stayed active "friends" during that time. A lot of them had great intentions and would call here or there but I had about 5 real friends who would give up a Friday night at the bar (we were 22) to stay home with me after a chemo treatment, watch me moan and groan and then fall asleep at 8PM. I often told them, you don't have to do this or "I owe you one". And I meant it and with Bob I've been trying to payoff my debt since.
With Bob I keep paying off my debt but never feel like it's enough. I've done all I can do for this person. Given all the give I have for them. I've listened, loved, done, & given everything I have to make this person see that I appreciate them being there for me. But I can tell That Bob thinks I still owe them something.
Well, last night while thinking about how this relationship is draining and more work then I want to put in anymore I realized something. I don't owe Bob anything. Bob was given the same choice the rest of my "friends" were given. Stay or go. I didn't beg, I didn't ask and I certainly didn't expect for Bob to stay around and I'd "get him back". I was sick, really sick. I needed Bob to be there when I needed to cry, when I needed to vent or when I got so scared that this might be the end. And Bob did all that but with the idea that I owed them something.
Do you know someone like "Bob"? Are you putting so much work into a relationship and still feeling drained? Are you Bob? I don't think it's how relationships, of any kind, should be. Self-serving. So now I'm standing face to face with two choices, both equally as hard, tell Bob that it's time our relationship ends or explain to Bob, I don't owe you anything.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Rants for the day
Thoughts for the Day:
Maybe I should title today's post "Rants for the Day" instead of thoughts. I just can't believe how some people behave. So, we live in a big beautiful house and the people next door are completely ruining it for us. I'm not sure where to start but here, it's a low-income, state-funded rental in which is occupied by a 17 year old girl and 20 year old boy with 2 kids under the age of 2.
Are you starting to see the problem?
They, apparently, do not believe in a garbage can. Normally, their decision on whether or not to put their garbage in a sealed plastic can wouldn't bother me at all but in this case it does. It bothers me because they choose to put their garbage bags on their deck, which eventually get ripped open by some animal causing all of their garbage to be in my yard, along my fence and under my car. We've contacted their landlord, explaining the situation and he's told us he'd take care of it. Well, he hasn't. Today was the last straw for me. I went outside to spray some sealer on the cutest wood hooks I made for Addison and Evie's room and there it was, a used maxi pad. Oh no! I was grossed out, furious and about to blow my top when the 17 year old walked out of her house. I very politely explained to her that I needed her to come over and pick up her garbage out of my yard. She said no, got in her car (kids in tow), lit a cigarette (windows up of course) and drove away with the thousand dollar stereo system pounding in the back. Ugh.
Well, luckily for me my other neighbor, bless his heart, is the Rental Inspector for Mason Shitty...excuse me, City. He happened to be walking his dog on his lunch break and I told him about the constant garbage and the run-in today. Looks like he'll be taking care of it.
Secondly, these people don't work. Okay, I have no problem with people being on government assistance if you are working, trying to make a better life for your family, but just can't make ends meet. Billy and I have been there. When his company went out of business and I was 8 months pregnant we had no choice but for me to go on Medical Assistance while he looked for a job. It was hard and I was really embarrassed but the day he found a new job, I was off. That's how government assistance is supposed to work. Anyway, they come and go all day. The kids are in daycare (govt paid) and they yell and swear at each other all day long. The police have been there 6 times in the last month mostly for girls fighting. I feel like I live in the slums when in reality I pay top dollar for my house.
Seriously, get it together people.
Maybe I should title today's post "Rants for the Day" instead of thoughts. I just can't believe how some people behave. So, we live in a big beautiful house and the people next door are completely ruining it for us. I'm not sure where to start but here, it's a low-income, state-funded rental in which is occupied by a 17 year old girl and 20 year old boy with 2 kids under the age of 2.
Are you starting to see the problem?
They, apparently, do not believe in a garbage can. Normally, their decision on whether or not to put their garbage in a sealed plastic can wouldn't bother me at all but in this case it does. It bothers me because they choose to put their garbage bags on their deck, which eventually get ripped open by some animal causing all of their garbage to be in my yard, along my fence and under my car. We've contacted their landlord, explaining the situation and he's told us he'd take care of it. Well, he hasn't. Today was the last straw for me. I went outside to spray some sealer on the cutest wood hooks I made for Addison and Evie's room and there it was, a used maxi pad. Oh no! I was grossed out, furious and about to blow my top when the 17 year old walked out of her house. I very politely explained to her that I needed her to come over and pick up her garbage out of my yard. She said no, got in her car (kids in tow), lit a cigarette (windows up of course) and drove away with the thousand dollar stereo system pounding in the back. Ugh.
Well, luckily for me my other neighbor, bless his heart, is the Rental Inspector for Mason Shitty...excuse me, City. He happened to be walking his dog on his lunch break and I told him about the constant garbage and the run-in today. Looks like he'll be taking care of it.
Secondly, these people don't work. Okay, I have no problem with people being on government assistance if you are working, trying to make a better life for your family, but just can't make ends meet. Billy and I have been there. When his company went out of business and I was 8 months pregnant we had no choice but for me to go on Medical Assistance while he looked for a job. It was hard and I was really embarrassed but the day he found a new job, I was off. That's how government assistance is supposed to work. Anyway, they come and go all day. The kids are in daycare (govt paid) and they yell and swear at each other all day long. The police have been there 6 times in the last month mostly for girls fighting. I feel like I live in the slums when in reality I pay top dollar for my house.
Seriously, get it together people.
Monday, April 5, 2010
18 Hours of Excitement
Thoughts for the day:
Today's post is going to be short and sweet. We had an exciting 18 hours in our home! First, Addison had officially moved out of her crib! She has been napping in her twin bed for a week now and last night was the true test! I put her to bed about 8:30PM and she finally settled down and fell asleep about 10PM. Not too shabby.
And the most exciting news, we had our ultrasound with the new baby today and found out that we are having another girl!! We are both very excited and I am sure Addison will, someday, love having a sister!
Today's post is going to be short and sweet. We had an exciting 18 hours in our home! First, Addison had officially moved out of her crib! She has been napping in her twin bed for a week now and last night was the true test! I put her to bed about 8:30PM and she finally settled down and fell asleep about 10PM. Not too shabby.
And the most exciting news, we had our ultrasound with the new baby today and found out that we are having another girl!! We are both very excited and I am sure Addison will, someday, love having a sister!
Friday, April 2, 2010
My Dear Sweet Grandpa
Thoughts for the Day:
After church last night I called home to ask my parents a question. While ending the conversation with my Dad he told me that my Grandpa was taken to the hospital by ambulance and that my mom was with him. After explaining to me that he was having some stomach pain and they were thinking possible blood clot my heart stopped racing. I said something that now I find almost amusing, "Well, glad it's nothing serious like a heart attack". I know that doesn't, on the outside, sound amusing at all but please hear me out.
My Grandpa Frank is 87. At 87 isn't everything serious? A blot clot could be just as detrimental to his health as a heart attack. I just don't look at my Grandpa as a fragile 87 year old man and neither does he. Just the other day he made a comment about the "old geezers" in the bar. My dad asked him, so how old were these guys and his reply..."In their 80's"! Umm, hello?!
My Grandpa fought in WWII and the Korean War. He experienced more in his first 20 years of life than most. My great-grandma and great-grandpa immigrated here from Mexico. My Grandpa didn't just grow up with little he grew up in poverty. My great-grandma worked at a cannery and for some unknown reason asked my great-grandpa to leave. So she raised four children on a warehouse salary. At 16 my Grandpa ran away from home and joined the Navy by lying about his age. Of course, they found out about a year later how old he was and my great-grandma signed a waiver for him to stay.
So there he was 17, being raised by Navy men and fighting a war. My Grandpa doesn't talk much about the war. In the recent years I've learned more then I've known my whole life. I know it's a painful experience for him to relive but I wish I knew more about his history. One story I do know, that made me understand my Grandpa's true personality is heartbreaking.
My Grandpa was on a Navy ship that was attacked and bombed from the Japanese off the coast of Australia. The ship starting sinking but my Grandpa didn't jump. He once told me that in the Navy he was taught, "you don't jump until your shoes are on fire". Well, he took that literally. By the time his shoes were on fire there were no lifesaving devices left and he started to drown. He remembers another solider grabbing him and waking up in the hospital. He wouldn't tell me what, if any, his injuries were but he did tell me he lost his very good friend that day.
In my early years I didn't appreciate the rough, often loud, Grandpa that I had. Honestly, I was scared of him. In the past 10 years he has mellowed out and we have grown close, very close. I used to tease him that he was sending his "child support" to me in college when I'd get $25.o0 every Friday. He, of course, thought I was spending this on food or school things but I spent it on beer or pizza. He always made a point to call around 9PM on Saturday night, knowing exactly that I was getting ready to go out, to talk.
I've learned that although he may not have been the softest husband and father he was a hard worker. My mom often tells stories about how he worked shift work at the paper mill for years and then he'd come home and mow the acres of grass or till the garden. He coached several state-champion little league teams, played tennis and bowled. In fact, he still beats my mom bowling and gives her "pointers". Although I've watched him age in appearance I've never seen his physical abilities stray. Not until recently that is.
In the past 3 years his steps are slower. His back is a little hunched over and his eyes look a little more tired. He's had both knees replaced and although I know it brought him great relief it didn't put the pep back in his step. (Disclaimer: If you were at my wedding and watched him dance for 4 hours straight, please know the next day he couldn't get off the couch!) Now don't get me wrong, he still mows and rakes the yard, shovels the driveway and goes for walks but it takes a few days now to complete these tasks. I suggested once he hire a college student to do these tasks and he said to me, "Well what the hell am I good for then?". It's heartbreaking to know that someday he won't be able to do these things anymore, the things that make him feel useful.
We've built this connection. When the day comes that my Grandpa passes I will be able to cherish the weekly letters, cards and phone calls. I'll never forget going to Twins games with him, dancing for him in the living room (I had quite the choreography skills in 2nd grade) and debating politics with him. I'll miss him. I'll cry but I'll know that my Grandpa loved his "dear sweet Megan". I hope someday that my final words to him will be,"Love you dear sweet Grandpa. May God bless and take care of you" just like his words have been to me at the end of every phone call we've ever had.
After church last night I called home to ask my parents a question. While ending the conversation with my Dad he told me that my Grandpa was taken to the hospital by ambulance and that my mom was with him. After explaining to me that he was having some stomach pain and they were thinking possible blood clot my heart stopped racing. I said something that now I find almost amusing, "Well, glad it's nothing serious like a heart attack". I know that doesn't, on the outside, sound amusing at all but please hear me out.
My Grandpa Frank is 87. At 87 isn't everything serious? A blot clot could be just as detrimental to his health as a heart attack. I just don't look at my Grandpa as a fragile 87 year old man and neither does he. Just the other day he made a comment about the "old geezers" in the bar. My dad asked him, so how old were these guys and his reply..."In their 80's"! Umm, hello?!
My Grandpa fought in WWII and the Korean War. He experienced more in his first 20 years of life than most. My great-grandma and great-grandpa immigrated here from Mexico. My Grandpa didn't just grow up with little he grew up in poverty. My great-grandma worked at a cannery and for some unknown reason asked my great-grandpa to leave. So she raised four children on a warehouse salary. At 16 my Grandpa ran away from home and joined the Navy by lying about his age. Of course, they found out about a year later how old he was and my great-grandma signed a waiver for him to stay.
So there he was 17, being raised by Navy men and fighting a war. My Grandpa doesn't talk much about the war. In the recent years I've learned more then I've known my whole life. I know it's a painful experience for him to relive but I wish I knew more about his history. One story I do know, that made me understand my Grandpa's true personality is heartbreaking.
My Grandpa was on a Navy ship that was attacked and bombed from the Japanese off the coast of Australia. The ship starting sinking but my Grandpa didn't jump. He once told me that in the Navy he was taught, "you don't jump until your shoes are on fire". Well, he took that literally. By the time his shoes were on fire there were no lifesaving devices left and he started to drown. He remembers another solider grabbing him and waking up in the hospital. He wouldn't tell me what, if any, his injuries were but he did tell me he lost his very good friend that day.
In my early years I didn't appreciate the rough, often loud, Grandpa that I had. Honestly, I was scared of him. In the past 10 years he has mellowed out and we have grown close, very close. I used to tease him that he was sending his "child support" to me in college when I'd get $25.o0 every Friday. He, of course, thought I was spending this on food or school things but I spent it on beer or pizza. He always made a point to call around 9PM on Saturday night, knowing exactly that I was getting ready to go out, to talk.
I've learned that although he may not have been the softest husband and father he was a hard worker. My mom often tells stories about how he worked shift work at the paper mill for years and then he'd come home and mow the acres of grass or till the garden. He coached several state-champion little league teams, played tennis and bowled. In fact, he still beats my mom bowling and gives her "pointers". Although I've watched him age in appearance I've never seen his physical abilities stray. Not until recently that is.
In the past 3 years his steps are slower. His back is a little hunched over and his eyes look a little more tired. He's had both knees replaced and although I know it brought him great relief it didn't put the pep back in his step. (Disclaimer: If you were at my wedding and watched him dance for 4 hours straight, please know the next day he couldn't get off the couch!) Now don't get me wrong, he still mows and rakes the yard, shovels the driveway and goes for walks but it takes a few days now to complete these tasks. I suggested once he hire a college student to do these tasks and he said to me, "Well what the hell am I good for then?". It's heartbreaking to know that someday he won't be able to do these things anymore, the things that make him feel useful.
We've built this connection. When the day comes that my Grandpa passes I will be able to cherish the weekly letters, cards and phone calls. I'll never forget going to Twins games with him, dancing for him in the living room (I had quite the choreography skills in 2nd grade) and debating politics with him. I'll miss him. I'll cry but I'll know that my Grandpa loved his "dear sweet Megan". I hope someday that my final words to him will be,"Love you dear sweet Grandpa. May God bless and take care of you" just like his words have been to me at the end of every phone call we've ever had.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Don't Give Up, Just Give
Thoughts for today:
Well, here we are again at the end of Lent and I am reflecting back on the past 40 days. Every Lent we are asked to "give up" something, whether a behavior or a bad habit. One year I gave up Coke. Anyone who has known me for longer then 15 minutes knows that I love Coke. I crave it, I want it, I NEED to have it. Another year I gave up swearing which, really, wasn't very hard for me to do. This year I decided that I was going to give up eating out. I figured that not only would it be something hard for me to do, it would help out financially too. Well, that worked for all of two weeks until my mom and I traveled to Oklahoma. So when I got back I decided that this year I was going do to something a little different. I was going to give.
We don't, as I've mentioned before, have a lot of extra money but I do have time. I decided I was going to give to my family and to myself. That I was going to be present in the moment and learn to enjoy the little things. It was actually a lot harder than it sounds and if I had to give myself a grade it would be a C-.
Give: (n) to be present.
Give: (v) to grant or bestow by formal action
I did give. I've always by nature been a giver. I love to give presents, give time and give love but those are all the action of giving. How many times do we give without actually giving? I can think in the past 2 months of all the baby gifts I've given but I didn't feel present. See what I mean? My goal was to be present. To give (n).
So it started small with my daughter. I'd give to her. I'd play with her and instead of having the TV on in the back round, catching moments of Dr. Phil or Ellen, I'd turn it off and put on music. We'd dance and clap. She'd giggle and for the first time since that first giggle I melted. She thought I was so fun that she giggled. We'd read books together and have tea parties. We finger painted and learned new things. I really sat and watched her discover the world while I gave her my attention. I was present and it felt amazing.
Then I tried with my husband. This, honestly, is where it got hard. I'd listen to how many bushels of corn he sold or how many contracts he signed. I'd make dinner and try to enjoy eating together but that is where I failed. By the time Billy walked into the house at night I'd been giving my give all day. I was tired, I wanted to feed the baby and get her ready for bed so I could zone out. You see, that's what Billy and I do best. Feed Addie, love her up for a while, bath, bed and then we get to zone. One of us in front of the computer the other in front of the TV. Is this how your home is too?
The kids go do their homework or go to bed and you and your partner zone. You forget about the day, prepare for the next and forget to give. I'm not sure it's uncommon. I often call my mom (like 5 times a day, sue me) and her and my dad aren't giving to each other either. Dad is in the office playing solitaire on the computer and mom is reading or watching her 1000th DVR'ed episode of The Real Housewives of whatever region they are on. Dad's de-stressing from the day, Mom's zoning out on cheap entertainment. We all do it, but why?
Lastly, I started to give(n) to myself. I decided that I couldn't be present with my daughter or husband if I wasn't present with myself. Have you ever done this? If not, I encourage it. I learned a lot about what I need, want and expect. I learned that there are things I expect, especially out of Bill, that I just need to learn are unattainable, at least right now. There are things I need that I didn't know I was missing and of course, I want too much. For example: This move has been really hard on me, that's no secret. I miss my friends, the cities and being 2 hours away from my parents. I feel lonely here with no friends and it's not a place I really "fit in". When I actually became present with the situation I realized that I need my husband to support the difficulty I am having with move. I need to have a little more faith that it will all work out. I want to go back to Robbinsdale, my friends and my security and I expect that it'll all work out tomorrow. My needs, my wants and my expectations are all there and now that I understand them I've realized what I need to do. Keeping giving(v) while I give(n). The more present I am in the fact that I now live in Iowa, we aren't moving back to Robbinsdale and I'm not going to have best friends tomorrow the more I am going to be able to give this place a chance.
Lent is an amazing thing. It's a time of reflection. Jesus asks us to give of ourselves and He didn't mean just monetarily. He wants us to give (n) like he gave (v). He wants us to be in the moment, give up our life and love others. These past 25 days of lent have been eye-opening for me. I hope that I don't forget to keep giving once the idea of Lent has passed. I hope that Lent has caused you to reflect as well.
Well, here we are again at the end of Lent and I am reflecting back on the past 40 days. Every Lent we are asked to "give up" something, whether a behavior or a bad habit. One year I gave up Coke. Anyone who has known me for longer then 15 minutes knows that I love Coke. I crave it, I want it, I NEED to have it. Another year I gave up swearing which, really, wasn't very hard for me to do. This year I decided that I was going to give up eating out. I figured that not only would it be something hard for me to do, it would help out financially too. Well, that worked for all of two weeks until my mom and I traveled to Oklahoma. So when I got back I decided that this year I was going do to something a little different. I was going to give.
We don't, as I've mentioned before, have a lot of extra money but I do have time. I decided I was going to give to my family and to myself. That I was going to be present in the moment and learn to enjoy the little things. It was actually a lot harder than it sounds and if I had to give myself a grade it would be a C-.
Give: (n) to be present.
Give: (v) to grant or bestow by formal action
I did give. I've always by nature been a giver. I love to give presents, give time and give love but those are all the action of giving. How many times do we give without actually giving? I can think in the past 2 months of all the baby gifts I've given but I didn't feel present. See what I mean? My goal was to be present. To give (n).
So it started small with my daughter. I'd give to her. I'd play with her and instead of having the TV on in the back round, catching moments of Dr. Phil or Ellen, I'd turn it off and put on music. We'd dance and clap. She'd giggle and for the first time since that first giggle I melted. She thought I was so fun that she giggled. We'd read books together and have tea parties. We finger painted and learned new things. I really sat and watched her discover the world while I gave her my attention. I was present and it felt amazing.
Then I tried with my husband. This, honestly, is where it got hard. I'd listen to how many bushels of corn he sold or how many contracts he signed. I'd make dinner and try to enjoy eating together but that is where I failed. By the time Billy walked into the house at night I'd been giving my give all day. I was tired, I wanted to feed the baby and get her ready for bed so I could zone out. You see, that's what Billy and I do best. Feed Addie, love her up for a while, bath, bed and then we get to zone. One of us in front of the computer the other in front of the TV. Is this how your home is too?
The kids go do their homework or go to bed and you and your partner zone. You forget about the day, prepare for the next and forget to give. I'm not sure it's uncommon. I often call my mom (like 5 times a day, sue me) and her and my dad aren't giving to each other either. Dad is in the office playing solitaire on the computer and mom is reading or watching her 1000th DVR'ed episode of The Real Housewives of whatever region they are on. Dad's de-stressing from the day, Mom's zoning out on cheap entertainment. We all do it, but why?
Lastly, I started to give(n) to myself. I decided that I couldn't be present with my daughter or husband if I wasn't present with myself. Have you ever done this? If not, I encourage it. I learned a lot about what I need, want and expect. I learned that there are things I expect, especially out of Bill, that I just need to learn are unattainable, at least right now. There are things I need that I didn't know I was missing and of course, I want too much. For example: This move has been really hard on me, that's no secret. I miss my friends, the cities and being 2 hours away from my parents. I feel lonely here with no friends and it's not a place I really "fit in". When I actually became present with the situation I realized that I need my husband to support the difficulty I am having with move. I need to have a little more faith that it will all work out. I want to go back to Robbinsdale, my friends and my security and I expect that it'll all work out tomorrow. My needs, my wants and my expectations are all there and now that I understand them I've realized what I need to do. Keeping giving(v) while I give(n). The more present I am in the fact that I now live in Iowa, we aren't moving back to Robbinsdale and I'm not going to have best friends tomorrow the more I am going to be able to give this place a chance.
Lent is an amazing thing. It's a time of reflection. Jesus asks us to give of ourselves and He didn't mean just monetarily. He wants us to give (n) like he gave (v). He wants us to be in the moment, give up our life and love others. These past 25 days of lent have been eye-opening for me. I hope that I don't forget to keep giving once the idea of Lent has passed. I hope that Lent has caused you to reflect as well.
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