Religion is such a loaded topic. To begin, I am Catholic. I love being Catholic. I adore my church, which is a wonderful community. Last week, I was visiting my parents and went to Mass with my father. There were 60 people in the church sitting in 50 different pews. There were no alter servers. No one made eye contact or held hands during the "Our Father." As soon as the priest said the final blessing, the church emptied so quickly that I was shocked. The entire time I was at Mass, I never felt the peace and acceptance that I take for granted at my church.
I realized why some people are so put off by religion. I will never be the type of person to beat my Bible at you. I don't use Jesus to explain my bad behavior and I surely won't judge or try to save you. My religion, while important to me, is my personal journey. I need that supportive community. I love having people from my grandparent's generation tell me about their large families. I love recognizing people in my neighborhood because we share a common experience every Sunday. I love that four generations come together in one place, from the newly born to the elderly, to share together.
I need to believe in something bigger than myself. I need the quiet and the peace that comes from spending an hour in reflection every week. I love that my children have a deep connection to their faith and their faith community. Church for me acts as a reset button and allows me to start anew every week and put the past week in the past.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Day Three: Opinions about drugs and alcohol
In high school, they were the cool kids. They hung out in the concrete area in the back of the school, near the tennis courts, earning them the nickname "The Backlotters." You know who I'm talking about. The kids that snuck cigarettes almost out in the open. The ones who didn't care about making their teachers mad. The kids who weren't afraid of getting in trouble. Even if you didn't admire their tactics, you had to admire their chutzpah.
But then, the Backlotters that you started freshman year were not as numerous. Some dropped out, some had gotten in enough trouble to get kicked out, some parents sent their kids to rehab or boot camp. A few hung on until graduation, but the ranks were severely diminished.
I would never imply that smoking cigarettes leads to a life of doped-up crime, but having a penchant for breaking rules rarely helps to endear one to authority. The kids in the backlot rarely were given the benefit of the doubt by teachers. They were usually guilty until proven innocent, and that is tough for kids. Choosing to rebel, which is fun, leads to getting into trouble that sometimes you haven't earned, which is less fun.
As a mom, I talk to my kids about drugs and alcohol a lot. I tell them that lots of kids experiment and lots of kids can try drugs and be fine. They can try it and move on and never have the desire to try it again. But some people can't. Some people will find that when they try something, they want it more and more and they are not able to control that on their own. I tell them that they don't know which kid they are until that happens, so the safest route is to just never try something that could hurt them. My oldest is 10, so this logic totally suffices for now.
As my kids get older, the conversation will change. I can tell them about the kids that used drugs when I was in high school. I can tell them about how many of them blew out of high school, how the decisions that they made as 14 year olds affected them for the rest of their lives. I can tell them about how if a "good kid" accused them of cheating, those kids would be suspended, even without proof. I can tell them that I cannot control their choices, but I want them to realize that sometimes small choices lead to big choices. Sometimes you start walking down a path and you meander along for a while, and then realize that you are not headed in the direction that you want to go at all. Then you have to scramble and find your way back to the fork in the road and that can be impossible.
I don't know what I would be writing if it were ten years in the future and I am embroiled in the teenage years. Do my children listen to my opinions? Will my voice be like Jiminy Cricket and guide them through tough decisions, even when I am not there? Will they know who they are in a way that makes drugs less appealing? I hope so. Until then (and let's be honest, always), I will keep that conversation open and hope that they can find some truth in it.
But then, the Backlotters that you started freshman year were not as numerous. Some dropped out, some had gotten in enough trouble to get kicked out, some parents sent their kids to rehab or boot camp. A few hung on until graduation, but the ranks were severely diminished.
I would never imply that smoking cigarettes leads to a life of doped-up crime, but having a penchant for breaking rules rarely helps to endear one to authority. The kids in the backlot rarely were given the benefit of the doubt by teachers. They were usually guilty until proven innocent, and that is tough for kids. Choosing to rebel, which is fun, leads to getting into trouble that sometimes you haven't earned, which is less fun.
As a mom, I talk to my kids about drugs and alcohol a lot. I tell them that lots of kids experiment and lots of kids can try drugs and be fine. They can try it and move on and never have the desire to try it again. But some people can't. Some people will find that when they try something, they want it more and more and they are not able to control that on their own. I tell them that they don't know which kid they are until that happens, so the safest route is to just never try something that could hurt them. My oldest is 10, so this logic totally suffices for now.
As my kids get older, the conversation will change. I can tell them about the kids that used drugs when I was in high school. I can tell them about how many of them blew out of high school, how the decisions that they made as 14 year olds affected them for the rest of their lives. I can tell them about how if a "good kid" accused them of cheating, those kids would be suspended, even without proof. I can tell them that I cannot control their choices, but I want them to realize that sometimes small choices lead to big choices. Sometimes you start walking down a path and you meander along for a while, and then realize that you are not headed in the direction that you want to go at all. Then you have to scramble and find your way back to the fork in the road and that can be impossible.
I don't know what I would be writing if it were ten years in the future and I am embroiled in the teenage years. Do my children listen to my opinions? Will my voice be like Jiminy Cricket and guide them through tough decisions, even when I am not there? Will they know who they are in a way that makes drugs less appealing? I hope so. Until then (and let's be honest, always), I will keep that conversation open and hope that they can find some truth in it.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Day Two: Where do I want to be in 10 years?
On a island, near a beach, with a fruity drink in hand. The end.
Actually, at that point, if all goes according to plan, we should have 3 high school graduates, one senior, two juniors, one sophomore, and a seventh grader. I will be deep into the teenage years and all those challenges. We will probably be going at least 12 directions every day, but I still hope to have dinner together. I want to have the hang-out house. I want to see 5 extra faces at dinner every night and know that our house feels like a safe place.
I want to volunteer more. I would like to help support young moms and adoptive parents. I want to help my kids figure out dating, relationships, and growing up. I want to watch them become adults and enjoy the process.
I want to have a wonderful relationship with my husband. I love where we are now and I want to love where we are in 2021. I want to enter middle age gracefully with him. I want to still love the life I am leading.
Those are the goals. It will be interesting to revisit this in a few years.
Actually, at that point, if all goes according to plan, we should have 3 high school graduates, one senior, two juniors, one sophomore, and a seventh grader. I will be deep into the teenage years and all those challenges. We will probably be going at least 12 directions every day, but I still hope to have dinner together. I want to have the hang-out house. I want to see 5 extra faces at dinner every night and know that our house feels like a safe place.
I want to volunteer more. I would like to help support young moms and adoptive parents. I want to help my kids figure out dating, relationships, and growing up. I want to watch them become adults and enjoy the process.
I want to have a wonderful relationship with my husband. I love where we are now and I want to love where we are in 2021. I want to enter middle age gracefully with him. I want to still love the life I am leading.
Those are the goals. It will be interesting to revisit this in a few years.
Friday, November 4, 2011
World's Worst Blogger
So I just saw this thing on pinterest that was a 30 day blog challenges with topics. I need topics, gosh darn it, so I am going to try to stick with this and blog regularly again. Day one is my current relationship, so here goes.
I am married and will be celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary in a few months. I love my husband, and perhaps more importantly, I really like him. He is a great partner and without his help, love, and support, this large family thing would not be nearly as much fun.
My husband and I met in college and started dating when we were wee babes of 19. I think about who we were then and who we are now, and in some ways it is amazing that we have been able to change together because we have both changed a lot. We have grown up together and I am so thankful that we are together.
I love my marriage, but I didn't expect how much fun it would be. I love the inside jokes that come with living with a person long term. Don and I have so many of the same turns of phrase that our language is almost foreign to outsiders. One of my favorites is "mellow and cruisy." We took snowboard lessons together once and the instructor referred to the mountain as mellow and cruisy. (I, personally, don't feel particularly mellow OR cruisy while falling on my tush every two seconds and nearly colliding with trees, but that is another story all together.) Mellow and cruisy is the new black in my family. People who are hippies, mellow and cruisy. Children being insane, mellow and cruisy. Irrational driving, mellow and cruisy. People entering the medical marijuana stores, mellow and cruisy.
That is marriage. The dorky things that are not funny to anyone but you two. The inner nerd that you cannot hide in a long-term relationship. The one liners that are yours alone. I dig my husband, and hopefully, it's mutual.
I am married and will be celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary in a few months. I love my husband, and perhaps more importantly, I really like him. He is a great partner and without his help, love, and support, this large family thing would not be nearly as much fun.
My husband and I met in college and started dating when we were wee babes of 19. I think about who we were then and who we are now, and in some ways it is amazing that we have been able to change together because we have both changed a lot. We have grown up together and I am so thankful that we are together.
I love my marriage, but I didn't expect how much fun it would be. I love the inside jokes that come with living with a person long term. Don and I have so many of the same turns of phrase that our language is almost foreign to outsiders. One of my favorites is "mellow and cruisy." We took snowboard lessons together once and the instructor referred to the mountain as mellow and cruisy. (I, personally, don't feel particularly mellow OR cruisy while falling on my tush every two seconds and nearly colliding with trees, but that is another story all together.) Mellow and cruisy is the new black in my family. People who are hippies, mellow and cruisy. Children being insane, mellow and cruisy. Irrational driving, mellow and cruisy. People entering the medical marijuana stores, mellow and cruisy.
That is marriage. The dorky things that are not funny to anyone but you two. The inner nerd that you cannot hide in a long-term relationship. The one liners that are yours alone. I dig my husband, and hopefully, it's mutual.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
The long Goodbye
Schools ends this week for my kids and I cannot wait! Not only do we have an awesome road trip planned for this summer (5 states, 8 kids and 1 parent, what could possibly go wrong?), but we also will have lots of time to spend together which is my favorite. I never feel better than when all my little chicks are home in the nest.
That being said, these last two weeks are DRAGGING. D finished Pre-K on last Wednesday, A finished Preschool on Thursday, P graduated from kindergarten last night, and the others have a field day that ends at noon tomorrow and then school ends for the year at 10:30 AM on Friday. Pull the band-aid off already.
That being said, these last two weeks are DRAGGING. D finished Pre-K on last Wednesday, A finished Preschool on Thursday, P graduated from kindergarten last night, and the others have a field day that ends at noon tomorrow and then school ends for the year at 10:30 AM on Friday. Pull the band-aid off already.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
The title of my blog
When I was 23, I was confirmed in the Catholic Church. I am a cradle Catholic, but growing up, we were more of the Christmas and Easter folks than regular attenders. Thus, I didn't get confirmed until after college when I really felt like I was ready to become an adult member of my faith.
At that Mass, one of the songs was "Here I am, Lord." It is one of my favorite hymns even now, but that night, it took on a brand new meaning. Listening that night, I knew, for sure, that we would add to our family through adoption. I somehow knew that I was being called to be a mom. I can't do a lot of things. I am not a doctor or a nurse, but I am a mom. At the time, I had one child, but I knew that I was ready, willing, and able to care for more children. I knew that I was ready to welcome more children into my life. So that's where the title comes from. Imagine this song with less instrumentals and more choir.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WRfpQKnzns&feature=fvwrel
At that Mass, one of the songs was "Here I am, Lord." It is one of my favorite hymns even now, but that night, it took on a brand new meaning. Listening that night, I knew, for sure, that we would add to our family through adoption. I somehow knew that I was being called to be a mom. I can't do a lot of things. I am not a doctor or a nurse, but I am a mom. At the time, I had one child, but I knew that I was ready, willing, and able to care for more children. I knew that I was ready to welcome more children into my life. So that's where the title comes from. Imagine this song with less instrumentals and more choir.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WRfpQKnzns&feature=fvwrel
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Little House on the Prairie
Michael Landon has kind of ruined an entire generation, I think. His portrayal of Pa Ingalls has made so many people long for yesteryear, when the good people were good, the bad people were bad, and every hour closes with a life lesson.
Don't get wrong, I love "Little House" as much as the next person. I like the idea of self-reliance and family bonding and Pa Ingalls unbuttoning that top button of his shirt. I like it all. However, "Little House" has a big flaw and it is one that I didn't recognize until I started spending time in Ethiopia, where many people, especially in the country, live much like spunky Laura Ingalls. "Little House" doesn't talk about the fear.
Sure, Ma almost gets eaten by a bear or whatever, but as a parent, I think there must be a primal fear that permeates every day of your life. It is the fear that if your children get sick, you do not have access to the medication that will make them better. It is the knowledge that if 1 out of every 5 children die, it is unlikely that all your children will make it to adulthood. It is the certainty that if the rain doesn't come or comes at the wrong time, you will not have enough food for the winter. It is knowing that every day, you are walking on a tightrope 40 feet in the air with no safety net underneath and you are fully cognizant that one missed step could be disastrous.
Don't get me wrong, that fear doesn't crowd out the joy. Ethiopia is filled with joy and joyful, beautiful people and Ma and Pa Ingalls had their fair share of good times, too. But under that joy is the very real understanding that life is fragile. In a world without antibiotics, Tylenol, and tetanus shots, life is fragile. Without NICUs, IVs, and oxygen cannulas, life is fragile. Without surgeons, nurses, and doctors, life is fragile. Perhaps that is why Ma and Pa hung on so tightly to their children and why the good days were celebrated. Because everyone knows that the tide may change tomorrow.
Don't get wrong, I love "Little House" as much as the next person. I like the idea of self-reliance and family bonding and Pa Ingalls unbuttoning that top button of his shirt. I like it all. However, "Little House" has a big flaw and it is one that I didn't recognize until I started spending time in Ethiopia, where many people, especially in the country, live much like spunky Laura Ingalls. "Little House" doesn't talk about the fear.
Sure, Ma almost gets eaten by a bear or whatever, but as a parent, I think there must be a primal fear that permeates every day of your life. It is the fear that if your children get sick, you do not have access to the medication that will make them better. It is the knowledge that if 1 out of every 5 children die, it is unlikely that all your children will make it to adulthood. It is the certainty that if the rain doesn't come or comes at the wrong time, you will not have enough food for the winter. It is knowing that every day, you are walking on a tightrope 40 feet in the air with no safety net underneath and you are fully cognizant that one missed step could be disastrous.
Don't get me wrong, that fear doesn't crowd out the joy. Ethiopia is filled with joy and joyful, beautiful people and Ma and Pa Ingalls had their fair share of good times, too. But under that joy is the very real understanding that life is fragile. In a world without antibiotics, Tylenol, and tetanus shots, life is fragile. Without NICUs, IVs, and oxygen cannulas, life is fragile. Without surgeons, nurses, and doctors, life is fragile. Perhaps that is why Ma and Pa hung on so tightly to their children and why the good days were celebrated. Because everyone knows that the tide may change tomorrow.
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