The committee date was moved to March 12 (Dan's birthday). It usually takes them 3 hours to decide. Technically, they have 24 hours to make the final decision, although it is rare that they take that long.
Well, I was driving with my mother from Chicago to Memphis on the 12th, so Dan was the one to get the call from our adoption worker. They thought all families presented at committee had great strengths, and decided they needed to take the full 24 hours to decide. It was a bit disappointing, because I was anticipating the decision all day and just wanted an answer. At the same time, it was great to know that they were not making a rash decision, and reviewed each family thoroughly. And I was also happy to hear that the other families were good, because if we were not chosen I wanted the boys to go to a great family.
We found out March 13th around 1 pm that we had been the selected family. Ah!!
It is insanely exciting...and a little scary. I'm excited that they thought highly enough of our family to entrust 2 boys to us. I'm excited that I potentially have 2 sons. I'm excited to see Adalee and the boys grow up together. There is a lot to be excited about. Scary, only because nothing is final until it's legally final, and that always gives me a bit of anxiety.
The boys are 3 and 5 years old (just turned 5 this month) I still do not want to publicly post their names until after the transition into our home.
Here are a few questions you may have that I have gotten from others:
1. Have we met them yet? No. We have never met them. We have seen 2 pictures and that is all. It is a very weird process, and, yes, I wish we could have met them before committee, but that is not how the process goes.
2. When do they come home? They have been in their current foster home for 1 yr and are attached to the foster parents. It will be a slow transition. We are hoping to meet them the week I get home, but they will not move in with us for maybe a month or more after the initial visit.
3. How does Dan feel about it all? He is very excited. He has already started planning how he will insulate the garage and turn it into a playroom for the kids. He's cute :) He has already started collecting "boy" toys, and pirate outfits. He's anxious to meet them.
4. Are you sure you can handle 2 boys? This is a weird question to me. We obviously would not be at the point we are at, if we didn't think we could "handle 2 boys". Our adoption worker, after hours of interviews and stacks of paperwork, would not have approved us for 2 boys if she didn't think we were capable. The committee would not have chosen our family if they felt we could not properly care for 2 boys. It's a silly question to ask us at this point...and quite insulting, too.
5. How much does Adalee know about the adoption? She knows we are adopting. For the past year at bedtime we have been praying for whoever God has chosen for our family. Some days she is very excited and talks about having siblings, and other days she says she does NOT want to be a sister. She's a normal 5 year old, and it's going to be a transition for her, just as much as it will be for the boys. If I was growing a child inside of me, she would have the same anxiety about becoming a sister. We are doing our best to help her understand what is happening.
Luckily, we haven't been asked too many weird questions. Mostly everyone we know is supportive, and we really, really appreciate that. Thank you for all the prayers.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Adoption Committee
My initial intent was to start a separate blog, solely devoted to our adoption process, but that has not happened...obviously. Instead, I rarely write about the adoption, and the posts I do write involving the subject are dispersed among other posts about fitness, family and ridiculousness. Sorry.
Here is what has happened and what is currently going on:
Dec. 22nd - Home study was complete and we became certified
January 10- We were matched with 2 boys (brothers, 3 and 4 yrs old)
Once you are "matched" you get the children's bios, stating why they came into foster care, all family history that is known, education/special needs, etc. After you read their bios, you tell the case worker if you are still interested in the children. If you are, you then begin the process of collecting further info (talking to their foster parents, requesting school tests, sometimes even speaking to their teachers, doctor's reports...etc.)
So, this has been going on since January. Once you collect all information available, you then decide:
A. No longer interested/do not believe it is a good match for your family or
B. Still interested and wanting to "go to committee" for the children
The phrase "going to committee" is a bit misleading, because Dan and I are not actually present at the committee meeting. Our adoption worker is the one actually going and representing our family. The children's case worker is at committee and has narrowed it down to the families that she feels would be best for the children. Out of the many many home studies she received, she chose us as one of the best matches, which is very encouraging, since we were worried my health concerns would make it hard to get a match. At committee they present our family to a panel of children advocates/social workers and they decide if we are the best match for the boys.
There can, however, be up to 3 families total at the committee. We do not know if there are 2 other families involved, we just know it is a possibility. The reason I have refrained from getting too excited and spilling all the info is because there is still a chance we may not be chosen. If we are chosen, we would begin visitations, and then they would move into our home.
After a lot of prayer, phone conversations with the foster mother, and conversations with each other, Dan and I decided we do want to "go to committee". We just kept waiting for God to lead us in a certain direction; to show us any red flags that would make it clear it wasn't the best choice, or to open our hearts and minds to see that it very well could be a great match. He did the latter, so we will continue on this journey and trust that if we are meant to be their parents we will be chosen, and if we are not, they will be placed with the right family.
I don't think it would be right for me to give any more information on the boys until we know if we are chosen, but I would love prayers and positive thoughts. Committee should take place on March 14th and we will find out that day.
Here is what has happened and what is currently going on:
Dec. 22nd - Home study was complete and we became certified
January 10- We were matched with 2 boys (brothers, 3 and 4 yrs old)
Once you are "matched" you get the children's bios, stating why they came into foster care, all family history that is known, education/special needs, etc. After you read their bios, you tell the case worker if you are still interested in the children. If you are, you then begin the process of collecting further info (talking to their foster parents, requesting school tests, sometimes even speaking to their teachers, doctor's reports...etc.)
So, this has been going on since January. Once you collect all information available, you then decide:
A. No longer interested/do not believe it is a good match for your family or
B. Still interested and wanting to "go to committee" for the children
The phrase "going to committee" is a bit misleading, because Dan and I are not actually present at the committee meeting. Our adoption worker is the one actually going and representing our family. The children's case worker is at committee and has narrowed it down to the families that she feels would be best for the children. Out of the many many home studies she received, she chose us as one of the best matches, which is very encouraging, since we were worried my health concerns would make it hard to get a match. At committee they present our family to a panel of children advocates/social workers and they decide if we are the best match for the boys.
There can, however, be up to 3 families total at the committee. We do not know if there are 2 other families involved, we just know it is a possibility. The reason I have refrained from getting too excited and spilling all the info is because there is still a chance we may not be chosen. If we are chosen, we would begin visitations, and then they would move into our home.
After a lot of prayer, phone conversations with the foster mother, and conversations with each other, Dan and I decided we do want to "go to committee". We just kept waiting for God to lead us in a certain direction; to show us any red flags that would make it clear it wasn't the best choice, or to open our hearts and minds to see that it very well could be a great match. He did the latter, so we will continue on this journey and trust that if we are meant to be their parents we will be chosen, and if we are not, they will be placed with the right family.
I don't think it would be right for me to give any more information on the boys until we know if we are chosen, but I would love prayers and positive thoughts. Committee should take place on March 14th and we will find out that day.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
My Work-Out Secret
Truth be told, I don't have an exercise routine. When I feel like working out, there are some very legit moves that I do, and I repeat them often, until my body is the way I desire it to be. But I will not be sharing those moves with you today. Most adults I know don't have time for gym memberships or strict, repetitive regimens. Who has time for that nonsense?
I do, however, have a different type of nonsense that you may have time for...here's a little secret of mine for getting into shape:
Move!
Sounds like a no-brainer, but you'd be surprised at how many perfectly good opportunities to move we pass up every day. Just because you work, it does not mean you can't move in some form. Wiggle your fingers, tap your toes, start shaking your whole body in your seat while you read this. Do it! Don't tell me you don't have time. How many times do you stop and check email, or check your phone while at work, or go to the bathroom? All you gotta do is move a little prior to, or immediately after, doing those things.
Wiggling is so underrated, and so ideal for many situations. I'd say, "dance" but that often scares people, so I prefer the term wiggle. Call it what you will, but if you would just shake that body a little every time you check your phone or your email, you'd be moving a hell of a lot more than you do currently. If you are in line at a store, march in place or sway side to side.
At home and have a few seconds to spare? Roll your shoulders, clap your hands, do 3 jumping jacks (I didn't say 10... I didn't even say 5. I said 3. You can do it)
Hop to the laundry room, dance to the kitchen, skip to the garage. I don't care what you do, just freakin' move! Get into the habit of being mobile in some way, all the time. I'm not going to lie, you will look ridiculous. But it may make you laugh, and as we know, laughter burns calories. Laughter will also instantly put you in a good mood, so it's a fine trade off.
One of my more ridiculous moves is rolling. I have been known, on many occasions, to roll on my floor during commercials, and even sometimes during the show I'm watching. How do I roll exactly? I lay on the floor and just start rolling all over the place, like a little kid hyped up on pixie sticks. I roll all over the living room floor. There is no science to it. I don't roll to one end of the living room and back 10 times, change my position, then repeat. I just roll as ridiculously as possible, all over the place, for as long as I can. Sometimes I'll switch it up and just lie on my back and kick into the air, or pretend I'm being chased and pedal my feet like I'm riding a bicycle to get away. If it gets my adrenaline really going, I'll jump up and run in place, or dance, or...something. Anything.
Is this going to get you into great shape? Absolutely not.
What it will do, though, is get your body into the habit of moving. It will also increase circulation throughout your body, which will give you more energy and clarity of mind. With all this new energy and mind clarity, you may now have the motivation to start some legit exercise moves, eh? See, moving in frequent and very small ways does have benefits.
Start incorporating different types of movement into your daily activities. Forms of movement that are often overlooked:
wiggling
clapping
stomping
jumping
hopping
swaying
kicking
hitting/punching (Grab an old pillow...and just beat the shit out of it)
skipping
tip-toeing
rolling
crawling
bouncing
Oh, one more thing I must say...
If you are a mother (or father) and you have had to A. pick up your children's toys or B. give them a bath today, I give you props. How dare you do those things and claim that you did not work-out! Give credit where it is due. It is, quite literally, a pain in the ass (and back) to bend back and forth over a tub to wash your child. Same goes for bending over repeatedly picking up toys. Go on and pat yourself on that aching back.
You definitely deserve it.
I do, however, have a different type of nonsense that you may have time for...here's a little secret of mine for getting into shape:
Move!
Sounds like a no-brainer, but you'd be surprised at how many perfectly good opportunities to move we pass up every day. Just because you work, it does not mean you can't move in some form. Wiggle your fingers, tap your toes, start shaking your whole body in your seat while you read this. Do it! Don't tell me you don't have time. How many times do you stop and check email, or check your phone while at work, or go to the bathroom? All you gotta do is move a little prior to, or immediately after, doing those things.
Wiggling is so underrated, and so ideal for many situations. I'd say, "dance" but that often scares people, so I prefer the term wiggle. Call it what you will, but if you would just shake that body a little every time you check your phone or your email, you'd be moving a hell of a lot more than you do currently. If you are in line at a store, march in place or sway side to side.
At home and have a few seconds to spare? Roll your shoulders, clap your hands, do 3 jumping jacks (I didn't say 10... I didn't even say 5. I said 3. You can do it)
Hop to the laundry room, dance to the kitchen, skip to the garage. I don't care what you do, just freakin' move! Get into the habit of being mobile in some way, all the time. I'm not going to lie, you will look ridiculous. But it may make you laugh, and as we know, laughter burns calories. Laughter will also instantly put you in a good mood, so it's a fine trade off.
One of my more ridiculous moves is rolling. I have been known, on many occasions, to roll on my floor during commercials, and even sometimes during the show I'm watching. How do I roll exactly? I lay on the floor and just start rolling all over the place, like a little kid hyped up on pixie sticks. I roll all over the living room floor. There is no science to it. I don't roll to one end of the living room and back 10 times, change my position, then repeat. I just roll as ridiculously as possible, all over the place, for as long as I can. Sometimes I'll switch it up and just lie on my back and kick into the air, or pretend I'm being chased and pedal my feet like I'm riding a bicycle to get away. If it gets my adrenaline really going, I'll jump up and run in place, or dance, or...something. Anything.
Is this going to get you into great shape? Absolutely not.
What it will do, though, is get your body into the habit of moving. It will also increase circulation throughout your body, which will give you more energy and clarity of mind. With all this new energy and mind clarity, you may now have the motivation to start some legit exercise moves, eh? See, moving in frequent and very small ways does have benefits.
Start incorporating different types of movement into your daily activities. Forms of movement that are often overlooked:
wiggling
clapping
stomping
jumping
hopping
swaying
kicking
hitting/punching (Grab an old pillow...and just beat the shit out of it)
skipping
tip-toeing
rolling
crawling
bouncing
Oh, one more thing I must say...
If you are a mother (or father) and you have had to A. pick up your children's toys or B. give them a bath today, I give you props. How dare you do those things and claim that you did not work-out! Give credit where it is due. It is, quite literally, a pain in the ass (and back) to bend back and forth over a tub to wash your child. Same goes for bending over repeatedly picking up toys. Go on and pat yourself on that aching back.
You definitely deserve it.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Overly Ambitious Goal for 2012
I had decided at the beginning of this year to read more. After having a child, the opportunities to get lost in a book for hours (or even 30 minutes) become very rare. I believe I've read less than 10 books, fully, within the 4 yrs of Adalee's life. I have a terrible habit of starting 5 books at once, and whichever book can hold my attention the longest is the one that I finish. The other 4, half-read books get tossed to the side and forgotten. I decided to try my hardest not to do that this year. Start one; finish one.
The first book I started was Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.
Aside from the very far fetched plot (a young boy wandering all over New York, going into strangers homes to find clues that he believes his dead father left behind for him...) I really, really enjoyed it. I finished it in less than 4 days, which was... invigorating. I hadn't finished a book in less than a week in years. It felt so gooood. I started having all kinds of crazy thoughts. At this rate, I could read 2 books/wk. And, technically, that would come out to 8 books/month... 96 in a year! I am going to read 96 books in 2012!
Hence, my overly ambitious goal for 2012 ;)
I have since settled down. My momentary high from finishing one book has waned a bit. The high has died down to what I would describe now as a mere buzz, which still feels excellent. I still want to commit to reading on a regular (preferably daily) basis.
Since reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, I have finished 2 more books. And I am half way through 3 more (yes, I fell back into my habit of juggling multiple books, but instead of choosing 1 and dumping the rest I am committed to finishing them all)
So, my new goal is to read 2 books/month, as a minimum. 24 per year compared to 96 is pretty sad, but at least it's realistic. And, it's much better than the previous quota of 2 per year. If I can finish the 3 I am half way through before April begins, I will still be on track.
2012 Book List:
1. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close- finished
Yes, I finally caved and began this teen series. I was very hesitant, due to the popularity of the Twilight series and how disappointed I was in those books. This is much different. Still, it is very obviously written for young teens, but the plot is much more appealing than that awful, vampire, love triangle story line of Twilight.
The first book I started was Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.
Aside from the very far fetched plot (a young boy wandering all over New York, going into strangers homes to find clues that he believes his dead father left behind for him...) I really, really enjoyed it. I finished it in less than 4 days, which was... invigorating. I hadn't finished a book in less than a week in years. It felt so gooood. I started having all kinds of crazy thoughts. At this rate, I could read 2 books/wk. And, technically, that would come out to 8 books/month... 96 in a year! I am going to read 96 books in 2012!
Hence, my overly ambitious goal for 2012 ;)
I have since settled down. My momentary high from finishing one book has waned a bit. The high has died down to what I would describe now as a mere buzz, which still feels excellent. I still want to commit to reading on a regular (preferably daily) basis.
Since reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, I have finished 2 more books. And I am half way through 3 more (yes, I fell back into my habit of juggling multiple books, but instead of choosing 1 and dumping the rest I am committed to finishing them all)
So, my new goal is to read 2 books/month, as a minimum. 24 per year compared to 96 is pretty sad, but at least it's realistic. And, it's much better than the previous quota of 2 per year. If I can finish the 3 I am half way through before April begins, I will still be on track.
2012 Book List:
1. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close- finished
2. Angela's Ashes- finished
Excellent memoir of a young boy growing up poor in Ireland3. The Hunger Games- finished
4. Mockingjay- currently reading- 2nd book of Hunger Games series
Update: Finished
5. Attaching in Adoption- currently reading
6. Jane Eyre- currently reading (I read in high school and wanted to relive it)
Update:
Bad news: I began 2 new books before finishing #5 and #6
Good news: I FINISHED those 2 new books :)
7. Catching Fire (3rd in Hunger Games) - finished
8. The Lost Boy - finished
by Dave Pelzer (same author as A Child Called "It")
A Child Called "It" chronicles Dave's childhood as an abused child,
being raised by a mentally unstable and alcoholic mother...
The Lost Boy is his experience going through the foster care system
after escaping his mother's abuse.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Exciting News
Dan and I had been discussing adoption for a few years now (basically, since Adalee was born 4 yrs ago) With all the craziness of Papa's illness/death, the holidays and trying to figure out Adalee's neurological issues, it was too difficult to find the time to write about that subject.
Last summer we started to seriously research and discuss our options. I always felt a tug on my heart, leading to the foster/adoption route, but Dan had decided that he would be more comfortable with a domestic infant adoption...so we started down that road. The more and more we discussed and discovered information on this avenue of adoption, the more tension and disagreements we faced. It got to the point where we just called it quits on the whole thing. We decided to pray individually and not bring it up, until we felt certain of something. I was certain where I stood, but I would never push Dan into something he wasn't sure about. So, I just waited.
It was so heart breaking, seeing as this has been something I have wanted my whole life, and especially in the last 4 yrs, knowing this was our only option of growing our family. I went to a church women's retreat in October, hoping to just take my mind off things and have a great time. About 10 minutes after being there I unloaded all my emotions onto the women I was rooming with. Ha! It just spewed out. I had no control. But they were very kind, and it felt good to get it off my chest.
Literally, less than 2 weeks after that retreat Dan came to me and said "Now, I don't want you to freak out or anything but....I just wanted you to know that I've really been feeling God leading us towards the foster/adoption route. I'm not absolutely sure, but I think that's what he's telling me"
As time passed, Dan felt more certain of that idea. Discussing the infant adoption brought so much tension and anxiety, but with every discussion we had about adopting through the state we both felt such certainty and peace.
We attended the informational meeting and then tried to sign up for the 30 hour required training, but the Dec/Jan. classes were full.
So we signed up for the Feb/Mar classes. I wanted so badly to tell people our decision, but I was worried about one thing; my health. Although I am capable of raising my daughter and caring for my household, my doctors do not want me working full-time. I feared that my health issues would affect our application being accepted. I mean, if my doctors do not feel that I'm capable enough to work, why should someone else find me capable enough to handle the demands of multiple children? That fear haunted me.
I decided not to officially announce anything until I was assured that my health would not be an issue.
Today the case worker called me and said that she received the health forms that my cardiologist filled out and also the forms that I had filled out. She shared them with her supervisor. Neither she nor the supervisor, found anything in them that would cause our application to not be accepted, and we are welcome to start the training. Such great news! And on my Papa's birthday, too :)
So, the news is that we are officially starting the adoption process. Our first class is this Saturday.
We will complete our 30 hour training on March 8th
Then begin the massive amounts of paper work.
After the paper work is completed we will start the home study.
After the home study we wait for a match.
It's going to be a long process, but we are ecstatic to finally begin, and see what God has in store for us.
Last summer we started to seriously research and discuss our options. I always felt a tug on my heart, leading to the foster/adoption route, but Dan had decided that he would be more comfortable with a domestic infant adoption...so we started down that road. The more and more we discussed and discovered information on this avenue of adoption, the more tension and disagreements we faced. It got to the point where we just called it quits on the whole thing. We decided to pray individually and not bring it up, until we felt certain of something. I was certain where I stood, but I would never push Dan into something he wasn't sure about. So, I just waited.
It was so heart breaking, seeing as this has been something I have wanted my whole life, and especially in the last 4 yrs, knowing this was our only option of growing our family. I went to a church women's retreat in October, hoping to just take my mind off things and have a great time. About 10 minutes after being there I unloaded all my emotions onto the women I was rooming with. Ha! It just spewed out. I had no control. But they were very kind, and it felt good to get it off my chest.
Literally, less than 2 weeks after that retreat Dan came to me and said "Now, I don't want you to freak out or anything but....I just wanted you to know that I've really been feeling God leading us towards the foster/adoption route. I'm not absolutely sure, but I think that's what he's telling me"
As time passed, Dan felt more certain of that idea. Discussing the infant adoption brought so much tension and anxiety, but with every discussion we had about adopting through the state we both felt such certainty and peace.
We attended the informational meeting and then tried to sign up for the 30 hour required training, but the Dec/Jan. classes were full.
So we signed up for the Feb/Mar classes. I wanted so badly to tell people our decision, but I was worried about one thing; my health. Although I am capable of raising my daughter and caring for my household, my doctors do not want me working full-time. I feared that my health issues would affect our application being accepted. I mean, if my doctors do not feel that I'm capable enough to work, why should someone else find me capable enough to handle the demands of multiple children? That fear haunted me.
I decided not to officially announce anything until I was assured that my health would not be an issue.
Today the case worker called me and said that she received the health forms that my cardiologist filled out and also the forms that I had filled out. She shared them with her supervisor. Neither she nor the supervisor, found anything in them that would cause our application to not be accepted, and we are welcome to start the training. Such great news! And on my Papa's birthday, too :)
So, the news is that we are officially starting the adoption process. Our first class is this Saturday.
We will complete our 30 hour training on March 8th
Then begin the massive amounts of paper work.
After the paper work is completed we will start the home study.
After the home study we wait for a match.
It's going to be a long process, but we are ecstatic to finally begin, and see what God has in store for us.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Didju do that?! Yes. Yes, I did.
It has been almost a year since I began crocheting. Sadly, none of my creations have been worthy enough to post. There are so many crafty people in this world, with crafty little blogs showcasing their talents. I don't think I will ever be one of those people. But, every now and then, I hope to create a winner that I can share and not be ashamed of. Little masterpieces that will evoke questions such as, "Didju do that?!"
I decided to try my hand at Amigurumi - Japanese word that literally means "crocheted stuffed toy"
They are so freakin cute, and seeing as I have a 4 yr old little girl that loves soft cute things, I decided to give it a go.
She initially wanted me to make an ugly looking airplane, which didn't really even look like a plane, even when crocheted by professionals. I am not about to put in that much time, effort and yarn to make a toy that looks ridiculous. I vetoed that choice and had her choose between the 3 that looked like real toys: Bunny, Giraffe or Elephant. She agreed on the giraffe.
So with no further adieu....
He is pretty darn cute, I must say. I need to work on sewing the pieces together a bit, because I kind of jacked up the neck seam....
...but Adalee didn't notice. She named him Carlon - her favorite girl's name is Carla, so all boys are "Carlon"
I decided to try my hand at Amigurumi - Japanese word that literally means "crocheted stuffed toy"
They are so freakin cute, and seeing as I have a 4 yr old little girl that loves soft cute things, I decided to give it a go.
She initially wanted me to make an ugly looking airplane, which didn't really even look like a plane, even when crocheted by professionals. I am not about to put in that much time, effort and yarn to make a toy that looks ridiculous. I vetoed that choice and had her choose between the 3 that looked like real toys: Bunny, Giraffe or Elephant. She agreed on the giraffe.
So with no further adieu....
He is pretty darn cute, I must say. I need to work on sewing the pieces together a bit, because I kind of jacked up the neck seam....
...but Adalee didn't notice. She named him Carlon - her favorite girl's name is Carla, so all boys are "Carlon"
Ta Da!!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Love you, Dad
I have always been a daddy's girl. One of my favorite movies is Father of the Bride and I will cry at just about anything having to do with daddy/daughter relationships.
My father is not perfect, by any means. And our relationship has been very, very rocky at times (during the divorce I wrote him a 4 page poem, entitled "Shit", which basically just called him shit in many different ways. Yep, rocky)
So, don't worry, all you dads out there with teenage daughters that hate you. It can get better!
I have hundreds of stories about my Dad and it's really hard to choose my favorites, but I tried to narrow it down. In honor of Father's day -and my dad- here are a few things my father taught me throughout my 26 years.
(By the way, I totally jipped my mom on my mother's day blog! I'm totally going to do a redo and give her the credit she deserves. I love love love her and I'm sorry I only talked about being hung over and throwing plates...that would be me, hungover and throwing plates, not her)
1. There is no wrong time to take a nap.
My father is a huge napper. If I'm not feeling well, or just in a bad mood his suggestion is always "just take a nap" He can nap 2 hours after waking...and again at noon... and again at 5 pm. Really, there is no limit to the amount of naps you can take in a 24 hour period. He takes his sleep very seriously.
When we were young, my siblings and I would always be very quiet when dad was napping or he'd yell at us in a half-asleep, crazy daze. He was never violent, he would just yell and threaten, and give us "crazy eyes". One of my favorite (and funniest/most traumatic) memories of this occured on my 8th birthday...
I had a slumber party with about 7 of my closest friends. We all slept on the living room floor. The morning after the sleepover we were all waking up and giggling quietly when someone suggested that we scream as loud as we could to wake the last girl who was still asleep. Seven, high pitched, 8 yr old girls huddled together and on the count of three...1...2...3....screamed "WAaaaaKE Uuuup, Jeeesicaaaaa!!!!" All of a sudden my parent's door bursts open and my dad is standing there in his boxers, ( I want to say he was holding a belt, but I can't quite remember if it was that dramatic- it felt like it, though) like a mad man, screaming "If I hear one more word, EVERY SINGLE ONE of you is getting spanked!!!" In his half asleep/half awake mind I'm sure he had forgotten that it was my birthday party and probably assumed it was just me and my brothers and sister out there yelling.
My mother hurried to the rescue and quickly got my dad back into the bedroom, then ran out to console the 8 hysterical girls crying in the living. Happy Birthday To Me.
2. Never hesitate to invite strangers to church
One Sunday morning, when I was about eh...7?, we were getting into the car to go to church when we saw a man attack a woman and take off with her purse. We lived on the south side of Chicago, so this was not an unusual occurance, but I had never seen it live. We were told to get in the car, my mom called the police, and my dad took off down the street to get the theif. I was kind of scared for my dad.
I remember having so much pride for my father when I saw him walking back to the house with this criminal. This is the first memory I have of me thinking my dad was, literally, a hero. By the time they made it back to the house the cops had arrived and were ready to take the guy in. My dad begged them to let it slide and asked if he could take the man to church with us instead. My family laughs about this now because, although it was a very kind suggestion, it was probably not the smartest thing to do...having a criminal ride in the back seat with your children. The cops declined his request.
3. I am beautiful just the way I am
I remember being about 10 yrs old and feeling ugly. Very ugly. It's weird to look back now and think that a 10 year old could feel that way, but I did. Between the ages of 8-12 it is so awkward for girls. The tween years were harder than the teen ones. You start to notice and compare yourself to others. You're not old enough for makup, so the contrast between the "pretty girls" and the "ugly ones" is very easy to see. I felt like an ugly one.
I broke down crying to my dad one night, confessing that I felt ugly. I know that must have broken his heart. He responded with the usual "You are beautiful to me...it maters what's on the inside...blah blah blah...." When he saw that none of that cliched jibberish consoled me he asked what exactly I thought was ugly about me. I remember this conversation word for word. I told him "my nose is big, my eyebrows are bushy, my teeth are big and crooked, my hair is curly and frizzy, and I have a mole on my face" Right away he came back at me with "Sarah Jessica Parker has a large nose, big teeth and curly and she's gorgeous! Boys love her. Cindy Crawford has a mole on her face and it's what makes her different from the other models. And she has full eyebrows too! The girl from Father of the Bride has very full eyebrows and you love her. All of those things are beautiful in their own way"
Now, I must admit, at the time I thought his response was horrible. Basically, he confirmed that I did, in fact, have all of those ugly features. I remember wanting him so badly to laugh and say "Becky, you're crazy! Your nose is not big at all. Your teeth are not crooked. Your hair is not frizzy. I'll tell mom to tweeze your eyebrows. I'll look into how much mole removal will be" That's what I hoped his response would be.
Looking back years later though, I'm so happy he didn't say that to me. I love that he didn't just say that I was something I was not to make me feel pretty in the moment. He saw me exactly the way I was (big nose and all) and still thought I was beautiful, and encouraged me to accept every feauture I had as beauty.
4. Guns are nothing to joke around about.
Here's another fun, birthday story. On my 16th birthday my dad took me down to the DMV to get my license. At the time we lived in Memphis, Tennessee. Anyone who has lived in Memphis knows that the DMV is equivalent to hell. You usually have to wait 2-3 hours no matter what you go in for and the people who work there hate their jobs and are not helpful in the least.
Anyone who knows my dad, knows that he is not very patient.
DMV + Dad is a terrible combination.
About 20 minutes after we took our number and finally found a seat in the crammed waiting area, my dad got up "to see what's going on". They hadn't called a new number since we sat down and he was not happy about it. He came back frustrated and decided to get some fresh air outside to calm down. This whole sit-see what's going on-get frustrated-take a breather outside went on for about another hour until he couldn't take it anymore. Finally, he says to me "This is ridiculous. They have 6 people working up there and not one of them is doing a damn thing" And then he took off to...see what's going on...again. I watched his hands wave around as he got into a heated exchange with the woman at the front desk. It was only about a minute and then I saw him abrubtly storm out of the building and go to his car. I assumed he just needed a breather. The woman at the front looked horrified and I saw her making some calls and talking to the other workers.
10 minutes later I see the police pull up and now the entire wait area was whispering about some crazy man who has a gun. I instantly knew who they were talking about. I turned to the man next to me and asked "What's going on?" He said that a man had threatened the woman at the front desk with a gun. I looked outside and saw the cops talking to my dad and then escorting him inside. I reassured the guy next to me that he did not have a gun, "That's my dad..he's never owned a gun in his life...yada yada..."
Apparently, when my father went up to the woman at the desk he ranted about how long he had been waiting and how slow the workers were. His closing lines to her were "What does it take to get anyone to do their job around here?! A gun?" And then he stormed off and started rifling through his car. Which, perhaps, gave her the impression that he was getting a gun.
I actually wasn't that embarassed. It was too funny. Had my father actually owned a gun and threatened her with it, it would not be funny. My father had never even shot a gun before, so the thought of everyone thinking he was going to go on some crazy, shooting rampage was hilarious to me.
They searched him for a gun and made him apologize to the workers, which took longer than it should have because he refused to apologize. Finally, he caved and made ammends.
I did, eventually that day, get my license. Happy happy birthday.
5. Sometimes it's OK to lie to your children
Just recently I started going over some childhood memories in my mind. I was thinking about some of the stories my dad would tell me, to help me deal with issues I was having. He would always relate to what I was saying in some way and then tell me about a similar situation he's dealt with.
I started to remember some of the stories my Dad would tell me about himself as a child, and then it dawned on me. He made them up. All these years of hearing heroic tale after tale about my father...and they never actually happened. I'm sure there was some truth dispersed here and there, but the majority were fabricated. They always had some moral lesson in them. Fables, I suppose. I'm slightly embarassed that I didn't figure it out sooner. I was 26 yrs old before I even questioned their validity. It's so obvious looking back now.
Here are the two that I recall most vividly:
1. Once I learned the word "asshole" (at about 11 yrs old) I would whisper it to my little brother Joe all the time when I was mad at him, and eventually he got tired of it and told on me. He told me he was going to tell my dad so I went to the backyard and hid behind our pool...as if he'd never find me there. After about 5 minutes of hiding he found me, and told me to come sit with him and talk. He then told me a story about when he was in school and all the 'cool kids' ganged up on him and were teasing him and telling him he 'better swear or else!' He proudly told me that he refused to do it. He told them that they could beat him up if they wanted to, but he wasn't going to say those words, cause it was wrong. So I asked "well, what happened?" And he told me that they were so impressed with his stubborness that they let him go.
Moral of the story: Stand by your morals no matter the cost, and in the end even your persecuters will be impressed.
2. My brother was having a school dance and they were talking about asking girls out. He took the opportunity to tell the story of when he was in high school. He wanted to ask the most beautiful girl in school to the dance, but he was nervous. He was nerdy and she was popular. It was the day before the dance and he decided to just try, assuming she probably already had a date. Turns out, no one had asked her yet because everyone was so intimidated. She said yes to him, because she was impressed with his confidence and everyone else was jealous and regretted not trying.
Moral of the story: Always go for what you want, because you never know how it will turn out and you won't want to regret not trying.
Anyway, after I had this revelation that my father had told me false stories the majority of my childhood I got angry and started ranting to Dan. After I stopped, Dan says,
"Really? So your dad made up stories about himself to try to be a good role model for you, and to encourage and help strengthen your morals?" ...and then he laughed... "Do you know how many kids would love to have a dad care enough to try to give a good example, even if it's not entirely true? Seriously, of all the mistakes a father can make you're going to hold that against him?"
He had a point. My father had good intentions and a good heart. It may not have been the best way to go about things, but it was all out of love. And it worked! I clung to those stories and I was encouraged by them.
So thank you, Dad. For all the good and not so good. It makes for good lessons and greater memories. I love you.
My father is not perfect, by any means. And our relationship has been very, very rocky at times (during the divorce I wrote him a 4 page poem, entitled "Shit", which basically just called him shit in many different ways. Yep, rocky)
So, don't worry, all you dads out there with teenage daughters that hate you. It can get better!
I have hundreds of stories about my Dad and it's really hard to choose my favorites, but I tried to narrow it down. In honor of Father's day -and my dad- here are a few things my father taught me throughout my 26 years.
(By the way, I totally jipped my mom on my mother's day blog! I'm totally going to do a redo and give her the credit she deserves. I love love love her and I'm sorry I only talked about being hung over and throwing plates...that would be me, hungover and throwing plates, not her)
1. There is no wrong time to take a nap.
My father is a huge napper. If I'm not feeling well, or just in a bad mood his suggestion is always "just take a nap" He can nap 2 hours after waking...and again at noon... and again at 5 pm. Really, there is no limit to the amount of naps you can take in a 24 hour period. He takes his sleep very seriously.
When we were young, my siblings and I would always be very quiet when dad was napping or he'd yell at us in a half-asleep, crazy daze. He was never violent, he would just yell and threaten, and give us "crazy eyes". One of my favorite (and funniest/most traumatic) memories of this occured on my 8th birthday...
I had a slumber party with about 7 of my closest friends. We all slept on the living room floor. The morning after the sleepover we were all waking up and giggling quietly when someone suggested that we scream as loud as we could to wake the last girl who was still asleep. Seven, high pitched, 8 yr old girls huddled together and on the count of three...1...2...3....screamed "WAaaaaKE Uuuup, Jeeesicaaaaa!!!!" All of a sudden my parent's door bursts open and my dad is standing there in his boxers, ( I want to say he was holding a belt, but I can't quite remember if it was that dramatic- it felt like it, though) like a mad man, screaming "If I hear one more word, EVERY SINGLE ONE of you is getting spanked!!!" In his half asleep/half awake mind I'm sure he had forgotten that it was my birthday party and probably assumed it was just me and my brothers and sister out there yelling.
My mother hurried to the rescue and quickly got my dad back into the bedroom, then ran out to console the 8 hysterical girls crying in the living. Happy Birthday To Me.
2. Never hesitate to invite strangers to church
One Sunday morning, when I was about eh...7?, we were getting into the car to go to church when we saw a man attack a woman and take off with her purse. We lived on the south side of Chicago, so this was not an unusual occurance, but I had never seen it live. We were told to get in the car, my mom called the police, and my dad took off down the street to get the theif. I was kind of scared for my dad.
I remember having so much pride for my father when I saw him walking back to the house with this criminal. This is the first memory I have of me thinking my dad was, literally, a hero. By the time they made it back to the house the cops had arrived and were ready to take the guy in. My dad begged them to let it slide and asked if he could take the man to church with us instead. My family laughs about this now because, although it was a very kind suggestion, it was probably not the smartest thing to do...having a criminal ride in the back seat with your children. The cops declined his request.
3. I am beautiful just the way I am
I remember being about 10 yrs old and feeling ugly. Very ugly. It's weird to look back now and think that a 10 year old could feel that way, but I did. Between the ages of 8-12 it is so awkward for girls. The tween years were harder than the teen ones. You start to notice and compare yourself to others. You're not old enough for makup, so the contrast between the "pretty girls" and the "ugly ones" is very easy to see. I felt like an ugly one.
I broke down crying to my dad one night, confessing that I felt ugly. I know that must have broken his heart. He responded with the usual "You are beautiful to me...it maters what's on the inside...blah blah blah...." When he saw that none of that cliched jibberish consoled me he asked what exactly I thought was ugly about me. I remember this conversation word for word. I told him "my nose is big, my eyebrows are bushy, my teeth are big and crooked, my hair is curly and frizzy, and I have a mole on my face" Right away he came back at me with "Sarah Jessica Parker has a large nose, big teeth and curly and she's gorgeous! Boys love her. Cindy Crawford has a mole on her face and it's what makes her different from the other models. And she has full eyebrows too! The girl from Father of the Bride has very full eyebrows and you love her. All of those things are beautiful in their own way"
Now, I must admit, at the time I thought his response was horrible. Basically, he confirmed that I did, in fact, have all of those ugly features. I remember wanting him so badly to laugh and say "Becky, you're crazy! Your nose is not big at all. Your teeth are not crooked. Your hair is not frizzy. I'll tell mom to tweeze your eyebrows. I'll look into how much mole removal will be" That's what I hoped his response would be.
Looking back years later though, I'm so happy he didn't say that to me. I love that he didn't just say that I was something I was not to make me feel pretty in the moment. He saw me exactly the way I was (big nose and all) and still thought I was beautiful, and encouraged me to accept every feauture I had as beauty.
4. Guns are nothing to joke around about.
Here's another fun, birthday story. On my 16th birthday my dad took me down to the DMV to get my license. At the time we lived in Memphis, Tennessee. Anyone who has lived in Memphis knows that the DMV is equivalent to hell. You usually have to wait 2-3 hours no matter what you go in for and the people who work there hate their jobs and are not helpful in the least.
Anyone who knows my dad, knows that he is not very patient.
DMV + Dad is a terrible combination.
About 20 minutes after we took our number and finally found a seat in the crammed waiting area, my dad got up "to see what's going on". They hadn't called a new number since we sat down and he was not happy about it. He came back frustrated and decided to get some fresh air outside to calm down. This whole sit-see what's going on-get frustrated-take a breather outside went on for about another hour until he couldn't take it anymore. Finally, he says to me "This is ridiculous. They have 6 people working up there and not one of them is doing a damn thing" And then he took off to...see what's going on...again. I watched his hands wave around as he got into a heated exchange with the woman at the front desk. It was only about a minute and then I saw him abrubtly storm out of the building and go to his car. I assumed he just needed a breather. The woman at the front looked horrified and I saw her making some calls and talking to the other workers.
10 minutes later I see the police pull up and now the entire wait area was whispering about some crazy man who has a gun. I instantly knew who they were talking about. I turned to the man next to me and asked "What's going on?" He said that a man had threatened the woman at the front desk with a gun. I looked outside and saw the cops talking to my dad and then escorting him inside. I reassured the guy next to me that he did not have a gun, "That's my dad..he's never owned a gun in his life...yada yada..."
Apparently, when my father went up to the woman at the desk he ranted about how long he had been waiting and how slow the workers were. His closing lines to her were "What does it take to get anyone to do their job around here?! A gun?" And then he stormed off and started rifling through his car. Which, perhaps, gave her the impression that he was getting a gun.
I actually wasn't that embarassed. It was too funny. Had my father actually owned a gun and threatened her with it, it would not be funny. My father had never even shot a gun before, so the thought of everyone thinking he was going to go on some crazy, shooting rampage was hilarious to me.
They searched him for a gun and made him apologize to the workers, which took longer than it should have because he refused to apologize. Finally, he caved and made ammends.
I did, eventually that day, get my license. Happy happy birthday.
5. Sometimes it's OK to lie to your children
Just recently I started going over some childhood memories in my mind. I was thinking about some of the stories my dad would tell me, to help me deal with issues I was having. He would always relate to what I was saying in some way and then tell me about a similar situation he's dealt with.
I started to remember some of the stories my Dad would tell me about himself as a child, and then it dawned on me. He made them up. All these years of hearing heroic tale after tale about my father...and they never actually happened. I'm sure there was some truth dispersed here and there, but the majority were fabricated. They always had some moral lesson in them. Fables, I suppose. I'm slightly embarassed that I didn't figure it out sooner. I was 26 yrs old before I even questioned their validity. It's so obvious looking back now.
Here are the two that I recall most vividly:
1. Once I learned the word "asshole" (at about 11 yrs old) I would whisper it to my little brother Joe all the time when I was mad at him, and eventually he got tired of it and told on me. He told me he was going to tell my dad so I went to the backyard and hid behind our pool...as if he'd never find me there. After about 5 minutes of hiding he found me, and told me to come sit with him and talk. He then told me a story about when he was in school and all the 'cool kids' ganged up on him and were teasing him and telling him he 'better swear or else!' He proudly told me that he refused to do it. He told them that they could beat him up if they wanted to, but he wasn't going to say those words, cause it was wrong. So I asked "well, what happened?" And he told me that they were so impressed with his stubborness that they let him go.
Moral of the story: Stand by your morals no matter the cost, and in the end even your persecuters will be impressed.
2. My brother was having a school dance and they were talking about asking girls out. He took the opportunity to tell the story of when he was in high school. He wanted to ask the most beautiful girl in school to the dance, but he was nervous. He was nerdy and she was popular. It was the day before the dance and he decided to just try, assuming she probably already had a date. Turns out, no one had asked her yet because everyone was so intimidated. She said yes to him, because she was impressed with his confidence and everyone else was jealous and regretted not trying.
Moral of the story: Always go for what you want, because you never know how it will turn out and you won't want to regret not trying.
Anyway, after I had this revelation that my father had told me false stories the majority of my childhood I got angry and started ranting to Dan. After I stopped, Dan says,
"Really? So your dad made up stories about himself to try to be a good role model for you, and to encourage and help strengthen your morals?" ...and then he laughed... "Do you know how many kids would love to have a dad care enough to try to give a good example, even if it's not entirely true? Seriously, of all the mistakes a father can make you're going to hold that against him?"
He had a point. My father had good intentions and a good heart. It may not have been the best way to go about things, but it was all out of love. And it worked! I clung to those stories and I was encouraged by them.
So thank you, Dad. For all the good and not so good. It makes for good lessons and greater memories. I love you.
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