I've taken to waking up at 5:30 in the morning to get a head start on my day. Truth be told, I never thought I would take that challenge on until I was in my mid-60s (don't most folks in their mid-60's wake up before 6am?). Thing is, it ends up that I really needed a few extra minutes to my day to get my thoughts together, so here I am. In my early- to mid-30's. With a toddler who loves sleeping in until 6:45/7. Making coffee at 5:30.
Pretty awesome.
I have approximately 6 more months until this Master's degree thing is officially over. I go between thinking there's no possible way I can complete it to moments of academic high in which I'm basically kicking the program's ass while making it plead for mercy.
This back and forth business can make a gal crazy.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
lumbering up a slope
... I climbed toward the rock without resting, and when I finally got there I picked another landmark and started all over again.
I climbed that way for hours, focusing my attention completely on some target- a rock, a shadow, an unusual ruffle in the snow- until the distance to that target became all that mattered in the world. The only sounds were my own heavy breathing and the rhythmic crunch of my shoes in the snow. My pace would soon become automatic, and I slipped into a trance. Somewhere in my mind I still longed for my father, I still suffered from fatigue, I still worried that our mission was doomed, but now those thoughts seemed muted and secondary, like a voice on a radio playing in another room. Step-push, step-push. Nothing else mattered. Sometimes I promised myself I'd rest when the next goal was reached, but I never kept my promise. Time melted away, distanced dwindled, the snow seemed to glide beneath my feet. I was a locomotive lumbering up the slope. I was lunacy in slow motion....
- Nando Parrado
I climbed that way for hours, focusing my attention completely on some target- a rock, a shadow, an unusual ruffle in the snow- until the distance to that target became all that mattered in the world. The only sounds were my own heavy breathing and the rhythmic crunch of my shoes in the snow. My pace would soon become automatic, and I slipped into a trance. Somewhere in my mind I still longed for my father, I still suffered from fatigue, I still worried that our mission was doomed, but now those thoughts seemed muted and secondary, like a voice on a radio playing in another room. Step-push, step-push. Nothing else mattered. Sometimes I promised myself I'd rest when the next goal was reached, but I never kept my promise. Time melted away, distanced dwindled, the snow seemed to glide beneath my feet. I was a locomotive lumbering up the slope. I was lunacy in slow motion....
- Nando Parrado
Monday, August 22, 2011
Birthday stuff
Our kid.
Sigh.
Today was his first day back to school/daycare. I was so dang proud of him. He was a bright and shiny super star who happened to do an awesome job of being himself while I began to attempt to reconfigure my day without his constant companionship. Pretty sure I missed him more than he missed me, but I'm pretty sure that's the way I want it (at least that's what I'm telling myself).
Today also happened to be my birthday. I just so happen to hate my birthday, so my beloved figured out that it might just work out to celebrate it the day before. As it so happens, that worked out just wonderfully. Less pressure, less memories, less whatever that makes the specific day so dang intense.
We did lots of fun things, including some rock throwing. Some stage performing. Some desserts. Some food. Some wine. Some laughing.
Sigh.
Today also happened to be my birthday. I just so happen to hate my birthday, so my beloved figured out that it might just work out to celebrate it the day before. As it so happens, that worked out just wonderfully. Less pressure, less memories, less whatever that makes the specific day so dang intense.
We did lots of fun things, including some rock throwing. Some stage performing. Some desserts. Some food. Some wine. Some laughing.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Presently stuck
I am currently stuck with the really valid concern that someone, somewhere, is going to take what I have said about parenting and post it on some random blog who's entire point is to show how shitty adoptive parents are. And today, after having read some of those blogs, I have to agree... there's a bunch of shitty stuff happening out there. Shitty stuff being said by adoptive parents. Shitty stuff being done by adoptive parents. Shitty this, shitty that, shitty, shitty, shitty.
I am caught up in a web of not knowing what to say. Very recently Claudia asked who wanted to write a post regarding the topic of conspicuousness... I quickly raised my hand and couldn't wait to be involved. I could immediately think about five different occasions to focus on, and had finally started to narrow it down to one when I thought- wait. WAIT. My crap, my discomfort, means nothing right now. Not when I have this incredible boy napping upstairs who is counting on me to make his world safe and secure.
I never, ever, ever would have thought the details in the world of adoption could actually end up being so huge (I'm not giving myself enough credit here, I know... but that's not the point). Although tesoro and I didn't go into it all thinking we were going to "save a child," we did go into it thinking that we were going to become parents and that although it might be tricky at times, the skittly moments would by far outweigh the rest.
I generally feel like there is some kind of cloud hanging out over us. Not necessarily a foreboding cloud, but a cloud all the same. Don't get me wrong, it's not as though we go walking around over in these here parts with an umbrella constantly in hand, but when I take the moment to think... to really just think... well, that's when the cloud makes itself know. I especially sense it when I read blogs like this. Or this. Or this. And I end up thinking, how could I have ever thought it was going to be easy? How could I have ever thought that our son would grow up knowing that because he was all kinds of loved by us, all that other really shitty, hard, intense, real stuff would heal up? How can we do absolutely right by him? By his (our) family? How?
I think about things I have said online. Personal stuff. Not so personal stuff. And those things I have said out loud. To friends. To acquaintances. And I wonder, what was their perception of what I said? Why did I say what I said? Did it benefit anyone? Did it benefit my son? My marriage? Myself? Which is the most important (rhetorical)? And did I pay attention to that who is most important?
Yesterday I sent out some emails regarding the incredible "Ask 5 for 5." I made a personal plea, and I spoke about our son. About fifteen minutes later I sent out a follow-up email, asking everyone to disregard what I had said about leone. About leone's family. I felt like it was possible that I could be seen as using my son... using his story, his history, his future. And although that really wasn't my intent, because it is his story, it is his history, it is his future that has us pushing forward to fight this drought in any way we can, there is no doubt in my mind that HE should never be used (especially by me) in a way that gets others to pay up. To act. To make decisions.
Does that even make sense?
I see leone. I see him for who he is. His beauty. His strength. His agony. His wonder. The things that make him tick, and the things that make him tock. I am beginning to understand things in ways I have never understood them before (perhaps it should be stated that this understanding has come by way of blogs, books, discussions, and time spent deep in thought). And although his papa and I made the choice to adopt him, he had absolutely no say in it. And he most certainly has never asked us to use his story to try to make a difference in the world. And he MOST certainly never asked to be in a place where he would be viewed differently because he is black and we are white. And the idea of him wanting me to vent about the struggles we encounter with the world? With our life? To just everyone and anyone? I don't see it.
I no longer know what to say. How to say it. Where to say it. I know that I am human. I know that I make mistakes. But I have this fear, this brain-altering thought, that the mistakes made by being thoughtlessly vocal about our lives could (and do) have huge, huge, HUGE implications. And the fact is, those implications might just not be so damn great.
I am caught up in a web of not knowing what to say. Very recently Claudia asked who wanted to write a post regarding the topic of conspicuousness... I quickly raised my hand and couldn't wait to be involved. I could immediately think about five different occasions to focus on, and had finally started to narrow it down to one when I thought- wait. WAIT. My crap, my discomfort, means nothing right now. Not when I have this incredible boy napping upstairs who is counting on me to make his world safe and secure.
I never, ever, ever would have thought the details in the world of adoption could actually end up being so huge (I'm not giving myself enough credit here, I know... but that's not the point). Although tesoro and I didn't go into it all thinking we were going to "save a child," we did go into it thinking that we were going to become parents and that although it might be tricky at times, the skittly moments would by far outweigh the rest.
I generally feel like there is some kind of cloud hanging out over us. Not necessarily a foreboding cloud, but a cloud all the same. Don't get me wrong, it's not as though we go walking around over in these here parts with an umbrella constantly in hand, but when I take the moment to think... to really just think... well, that's when the cloud makes itself know. I especially sense it when I read blogs like this. Or this. Or this. And I end up thinking, how could I have ever thought it was going to be easy? How could I have ever thought that our son would grow up knowing that because he was all kinds of loved by us, all that other really shitty, hard, intense, real stuff would heal up? How can we do absolutely right by him? By his (our) family? How?
I think about things I have said online. Personal stuff. Not so personal stuff. And those things I have said out loud. To friends. To acquaintances. And I wonder, what was their perception of what I said? Why did I say what I said? Did it benefit anyone? Did it benefit my son? My marriage? Myself? Which is the most important (rhetorical)? And did I pay attention to that who is most important?
Yesterday I sent out some emails regarding the incredible "Ask 5 for 5." I made a personal plea, and I spoke about our son. About fifteen minutes later I sent out a follow-up email, asking everyone to disregard what I had said about leone. About leone's family. I felt like it was possible that I could be seen as using my son... using his story, his history, his future. And although that really wasn't my intent, because it is his story, it is his history, it is his future that has us pushing forward to fight this drought in any way we can, there is no doubt in my mind that HE should never be used (especially by me) in a way that gets others to pay up. To act. To make decisions.
Does that even make sense?
I see leone. I see him for who he is. His beauty. His strength. His agony. His wonder. The things that make him tick, and the things that make him tock. I am beginning to understand things in ways I have never understood them before (perhaps it should be stated that this understanding has come by way of blogs, books, discussions, and time spent deep in thought). And although his papa and I made the choice to adopt him, he had absolutely no say in it. And he most certainly has never asked us to use his story to try to make a difference in the world. And he MOST certainly never asked to be in a place where he would be viewed differently because he is black and we are white. And the idea of him wanting me to vent about the struggles we encounter with the world? With our life? To just everyone and anyone? I don't see it.
I no longer know what to say. How to say it. Where to say it. I know that I am human. I know that I make mistakes. But I have this fear, this brain-altering thought, that the mistakes made by being thoughtlessly vocal about our lives could (and do) have huge, huge, HUGE implications. And the fact is, those implications might just not be so damn great.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Ask 5 for 5
Today I'm featuring a guestblogger- someone who has figured out a way to do more than just speak about "doing something." This woman is incredible- I met her very recently and was drawn to her sincerity and compassion. Please read her message and consider making a contribution....
I began pursuing a BIG dream two weeks ago. After deciding I could no longer avoid the news about the famine in the horn of Africa, I had that gut feeling that I couldn't sit this one out. I HAD to do something because I could. Something bigger than I could do alone. That's when #Ask5for5 was born.
Two of my children, Ashen and Bereket, were adopted and are from the region affected by the drought in Ethiopia. They would be two of the statistics if they still lived there. I see my son’s and daughter’s faces in the photos of those suffering in the refugee camps. It could have been him. It could have been her. The thought haunts me.
And moms just like us are watching their children go hungry day after day. I can't imagine what it's like, but I have to –I have to be there to help them, because it could have been my children. These families have lost their livestock, their crops, food prices are inflated at the market if there any food there, and don’t have any more lifelines to tap into. Many are traveling hundreds of miles through parched land in hope of finding help. Many are dying along the way. It is estimated that 29,000 children have died in the last 90 days in the famine in Somalia alone.
But I KNOW we can do something about it. Instead of feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed, we can rally ourselves and our friends to respond! I set up a fundraiser through See Your Impact. 100% of your gift will go to the relief and development organization World Vision, where it will be combined with government grants to multiply up to 5 times in impact!
You’ll receive updates on just how your funding is being used to help save lives affected by famine in East Africa. I'm amazed at how much we've raised already -- over $7,000 in just four days! We blew through our first 3 goals in just 3 days and are well on our way to $10,000 and beyond!
I need you to help me save lives. It's so so simple; here's what you need to do:
Thanks! Please donate and email your friends right now--don't wait for a calmer moment, because if you're like me, other demands inevitably crop up and you won't get to it. A child's life hangs in the balance, but you can help save her!
guest blogger: Sarah Lenssen from Ask5for5
photos courtesy of Cate Turton / Dept. for International Development
First, thanks to il panettiere for allowing me to post on her blog today! Today, more than 25 bloggers, including this one, are standing with me to Ask 5 for 5 for Africa. Here's why....
photos courtesy of Cate Turton / Dept. for International Development
First, thanks to il panettiere for allowing me to post on her blog today! Today, more than 25 bloggers, including this one, are standing with me to Ask 5 for 5 for Africa. Here's why....
I began pursuing a BIG dream two weeks ago. After deciding I could no longer avoid the news about the famine in the horn of Africa, I had that gut feeling that I couldn't sit this one out. I HAD to do something because I could. Something bigger than I could do alone. That's when #Ask5for5 was born.
Two of my children, Ashen and Bereket, were adopted and are from the region affected by the drought in Ethiopia. They would be two of the statistics if they still lived there. I see my son’s and daughter’s faces in the photos of those suffering in the refugee camps. It could have been him. It could have been her. The thought haunts me.
And moms just like us are watching their children go hungry day after day. I can't imagine what it's like, but I have to –I have to be there to help them, because it could have been my children. These families have lost their livestock, their crops, food prices are inflated at the market if there any food there, and don’t have any more lifelines to tap into. Many are traveling hundreds of miles through parched land in hope of finding help. Many are dying along the way. It is estimated that 29,000 children have died in the last 90 days in the famine in Somalia alone.
But I KNOW we can do something about it. Instead of feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed, we can rally ourselves and our friends to respond! I set up a fundraiser through See Your Impact. 100% of your gift will go to the relief and development organization World Vision, where it will be combined with government grants to multiply up to 5 times in impact!
You’ll receive updates on just how your funding is being used to help save lives affected by famine in East Africa. I'm amazed at how much we've raised already -- over $7,000 in just four days! We blew through our first 3 goals in just 3 days and are well on our way to $10,000 and beyond!
I need you to help me save lives. It's so so simple; here's what you need to do:
- Donate $5 or more on this page (http://seeyourimpact.org/members/ask5for5)
- Send an email to your friends and ask them to join us.
- Share Ask5for5 on Facebook and Twitter, and join our page to stay updated too!
Thanks! Please donate and email your friends right now--don't wait for a calmer moment, because if you're like me, other demands inevitably crop up and you won't get to it. A child's life hangs in the balance, but you can help save her!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
I love
I did this whole big post, then ended up deleting it. I hope no one read it, because it was out there for a few minutes this morning. If you did, forgive me for filling your head with bad writing.
Forgive me for doing it again.
I love my kid so much. So incredibly much. Like, so, so, so, so much.
I love the friendships that had been planted at miscellaneous times and truly began to bloom this summer.
I love that I want to write a book with very specific bits and pieces for leone's caretaker, because that means I know him better than I have ever known him. It also means that I am finally trusting myself as a mother. As his mother.
I love that I found, implemented, and continue to work on perfecting, a pie crust that I now consider my own. It will be the one I use for all pies for the rest of my life. It will also win me prizes, and for that I am appreciative (perhaps presumptuous of me, but all the same).
I love that I have been able to spend so many moments with my boy. Understanding his faces, his voices, the tilt of his hips, the moments that take him to the edge, the times that make him fly. Truly an honor. I can't even allow myself to wonder for so many seconds about him not being right beside me during the day next week, or the week after, or the five million weeks after that... it hurts to much. I am so grateful for your presence... for your person, my darling little one.
I love tesoro.
I love finding out that I am okay, just the way I am.
I have grown. I am thankful.
Forgive me for doing it again.
I love my kid so much. So incredibly much. Like, so, so, so, so much.
I love the friendships that had been planted at miscellaneous times and truly began to bloom this summer.
I love that I want to write a book with very specific bits and pieces for leone's caretaker, because that means I know him better than I have ever known him. It also means that I am finally trusting myself as a mother. As his mother.
I love that I found, implemented, and continue to work on perfecting, a pie crust that I now consider my own. It will be the one I use for all pies for the rest of my life. It will also win me prizes, and for that I am appreciative (perhaps presumptuous of me, but all the same).
I love that I have been able to spend so many moments with my boy. Understanding his faces, his voices, the tilt of his hips, the moments that take him to the edge, the times that make him fly. Truly an honor. I can't even allow myself to wonder for so many seconds about him not being right beside me during the day next week, or the week after, or the five million weeks after that... it hurts to much. I am so grateful for your presence... for your person, my darling little one.
I love tesoro.
I love finding out that I am okay, just the way I am.
I have grown. I am thankful.
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