Do yourself a favor and after reading this blog choose the next blog choice at the top of this page. I don't know if you have to be signed in but it is amazing to see and read the absolute creativity, beauty and humor of humans. I happened upon the blogs of three or four women...interesting women...that took the time to upload pictures of beautiful things and the people they love. A South African transplant in the American Midwest? A woman over 65 years old pointing out that she is a minority as only 26% of people over her age are on-line? She says she loves her life. All at our fingertips.
I feel funny chronicling my own life and throwing it out there into internet space. Especially when I see the beauty and prose that is swirling around me. Proof that we are all connected to one another...the beauty we seek and share with others.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Rainy Tuesday
Jon has a meeting this afternoon and then has work at the university. They are having a safety meeting to remind wood shop employees of ways to minimize the chances of college students cutting off their fingers with band saws. Yes, this almost happened. I think this is going to make for a long afternoon/slash evening and I am not looking forward to it. I even got to lay down and relax some after a very busy morning. I took the girls to the Moscow Food Co-op for Co-op kids, to the Moscow Parent Toddler Co-op field trip at the Appaloosa Museum and then to the 11 o'clock library story time. I printed up pictures to mail to various family members and picked up some groceries from the Co-op. I am caught up on dishes and laundry...and this gray weather now has me a little funktified.
Yawn.
Maybe I will cook up the soba noodles for dinner early. I am sure there is something else I could clean but I just look at the odds and ends stuff piled on top of the freezer and want to ignore it. Hence, there is a pile of odds and ends stuff on the freezer.
I also need to call my bio mom and wish her a happy birthday but imagine I will have to call 5 different numbers before I find the correct nurse to leave the message with since she can't speak on the phone anyway.
Yawn.
Maybe I will cook up the soba noodles for dinner early. I am sure there is something else I could clean but I just look at the odds and ends stuff piled on top of the freezer and want to ignore it. Hence, there is a pile of odds and ends stuff on the freezer.
I also need to call my bio mom and wish her a happy birthday but imagine I will have to call 5 different numbers before I find the correct nurse to leave the message with since she can't speak on the phone anyway.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Doing something while doing nothing
Today I received a funny call from my bio mom's nurse in California. "She wants you to bring her pajamas and a small radio with ear phones". "Uh, I don't live there, I live in Idaho", I said, "My mom has items at the room and board facility she lives at."
My life is pretty humdrum but sometimes these weird experiences wiggle into my daily existence. I don't know quite what to make of them...they are almost like weeds that just pop up randomly. I told the nurse I would call back but I didn't. I didn't because I am not sure what I am supposed to do. My mom is either not with it because she just had surgery or she is with it but wants me to do something, anything for her. The problem is...I don't know what to do. She has been offered help so many times. And truth be told, I think 99% of the time she doesn't want help, or rather doesn't want the kind of help that would require her to change her behavior. Then again, I am not sure she has the mental capacity to change her behavior. She is mentally ill after all. If you were to speak with her though, she is very sharp mentally. She is shrewd. She is a survivor. She has to have been in order to reach the almost ripe age of 60. I think reaching 60 after having lived the life she has is a testament to the scrapper inside.
That leaves me scratching my head. If it was as simple as saying, "Mom, you need help...you need medication...you need to be honest." Well then, that would be that. Well. Then I wouldn't have been adopted. She wouldn't have lost me. If losing your child isn't enough to shake you awake, then I don't really think anything can or will.
For her family this leaves us in a strange place. You see a family member often homeless or on the verge of homelessness and of course you want to help them. Of course I don't want to think of my mother as homeless. And I think she knows that. This allows her to pluck on our heart strings. Sometimes I feel guilt...and I know I am not alone in this. I am a kind person. I am a giving person. But I also know I wasn't enough. That doesn't hurt me to say. It is just the truth. If I wasn't enough at age 9, I am not going to be enough at age 33.
My heart is hard against her and I think it is for the best.
My life is pretty humdrum but sometimes these weird experiences wiggle into my daily existence. I don't know quite what to make of them...they are almost like weeds that just pop up randomly. I told the nurse I would call back but I didn't. I didn't because I am not sure what I am supposed to do. My mom is either not with it because she just had surgery or she is with it but wants me to do something, anything for her. The problem is...I don't know what to do. She has been offered help so many times. And truth be told, I think 99% of the time she doesn't want help, or rather doesn't want the kind of help that would require her to change her behavior. Then again, I am not sure she has the mental capacity to change her behavior. She is mentally ill after all. If you were to speak with her though, she is very sharp mentally. She is shrewd. She is a survivor. She has to have been in order to reach the almost ripe age of 60. I think reaching 60 after having lived the life she has is a testament to the scrapper inside.
That leaves me scratching my head. If it was as simple as saying, "Mom, you need help...you need medication...you need to be honest." Well then, that would be that. Well. Then I wouldn't have been adopted. She wouldn't have lost me. If losing your child isn't enough to shake you awake, then I don't really think anything can or will.
For her family this leaves us in a strange place. You see a family member often homeless or on the verge of homelessness and of course you want to help them. Of course I don't want to think of my mother as homeless. And I think she knows that. This allows her to pluck on our heart strings. Sometimes I feel guilt...and I know I am not alone in this. I am a kind person. I am a giving person. But I also know I wasn't enough. That doesn't hurt me to say. It is just the truth. If I wasn't enough at age 9, I am not going to be enough at age 33.
My heart is hard against her and I think it is for the best.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
I am tired. We just got done with the boys science fair project. It was fun...but of course in the end Jon and I were the ones hurridly cutting, printing and taping small pieces of paper to cardboard. I will admire the science projects that are more well put together then ours but we had fun.
My aunt and uncle had sent us money for our anniversary and said dinner was on them. So we took the kids to Sangria, where they had never been, and they had so much fun! We paired up and shared meals to keep the costs down. Josiah and I shared clam linguine, Jon and Iris had salmon fettucine and Ethan and Sevrin shared Shrimp Scampi. We had two appetizers and drinks as well. We got the bill and we had .25 cents left of the money they gave us...and that is after tip! Yay us! And thank you Aunt Penny and Uncle Steve for a really fun evening out with our kids. We hadn't taken them out for a long while. We have such wonderful kids, I was so proud to take them out and have them be so well behaved and thrilled to be treated.
My aunt and uncle had sent us money for our anniversary and said dinner was on them. So we took the kids to Sangria, where they had never been, and they had so much fun! We paired up and shared meals to keep the costs down. Josiah and I shared clam linguine, Jon and Iris had salmon fettucine and Ethan and Sevrin shared Shrimp Scampi. We had two appetizers and drinks as well. We got the bill and we had .25 cents left of the money they gave us...and that is after tip! Yay us! And thank you Aunt Penny and Uncle Steve for a really fun evening out with our kids. We hadn't taken them out for a long while. We have such wonderful kids, I was so proud to take them out and have them be so well behaved and thrilled to be treated.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Conversation
This morning I got caught up with Lorie and my sister Gayle. My poor kids probably wished I would just get off the phone but it is fun to have family. Earlier this week I spoke with my sister-in-law Lindsey and my cousin Steven...I have to say...it makes me smile that I have people that call me. I love to hear what people are up to and I love to share with them stories about the children and what we are up to. It is good to have people to share your life with. People that understand you.
I find it odd that I can count Gayle (yes I know you are reading this!) as one of them. We have had a handful of conversations on the phone...but each time, it feels as if a few more obstacles come down and I am getting to know her. My sister. How comforting to have someone that has had similar experiences to my own and a similar temperament. We are both survivors and I admire her ability to care selflessly for those around her. Seemingly without complaint. It was oddly comforting to tell her about the situation with my birth mother. While Gayle and I don't share mothers, our mothers have some of the same challenges. We both moved from our mothers at the age of 9, her to her grandparents, me to my aunt.
Isn't life weird?
My bio mom, Marilyn, had to have a tracheotomy inserted yesterday. I called her the day before in order to check and make sure her address was the same so that I could send her birthday present. She was already at the hospital, scared and unsure. I hate these situations. Because I am her daughter. I was going to put a qualifier on that. But there isn't one. I am her daughter...even if not legally. Now she is nearly voiceless. Who will be her advocate? Who will clean her trach? This is a result from the fire last fall that resulted in the death of a man that was in her trailer. The fire inhalation burns damaged her vocal cords, leaving them immobile and putting her at risk of suffocation if she was to contract a respiratory infection. Speaking to her, hearing the whoops of her breath...is or was...uncomfortable. She made it to her primary physician for a regular check up, only to be sent to the hospital...this was how serious her doctor found the situation. A tiny camera inserted into her airway showed the damage and yesterday they set about rectifying the situation with the knowledge that it may result in a tracheotomy. I called this morning and was told by a kind nurse, yes, what you say is true...she did have a tracheotomy.
My mom wrote to me through the nurse, tell her I am doing okay...and that I love her. Sometimes emotion surprises me. Because of my separation I have a disconnect in my heart regarding her.
I had to and I have to.
This is intentional.
That nurse tells me, "She says, 'I love her' ". I steadied my voice and laughed. "Yes".
I didn't say it back.
What does that make me?
I find it odd that I can count Gayle (yes I know you are reading this!) as one of them. We have had a handful of conversations on the phone...but each time, it feels as if a few more obstacles come down and I am getting to know her. My sister. How comforting to have someone that has had similar experiences to my own and a similar temperament. We are both survivors and I admire her ability to care selflessly for those around her. Seemingly without complaint. It was oddly comforting to tell her about the situation with my birth mother. While Gayle and I don't share mothers, our mothers have some of the same challenges. We both moved from our mothers at the age of 9, her to her grandparents, me to my aunt.
Isn't life weird?
My bio mom, Marilyn, had to have a tracheotomy inserted yesterday. I called her the day before in order to check and make sure her address was the same so that I could send her birthday present. She was already at the hospital, scared and unsure. I hate these situations. Because I am her daughter. I was going to put a qualifier on that. But there isn't one. I am her daughter...even if not legally. Now she is nearly voiceless. Who will be her advocate? Who will clean her trach? This is a result from the fire last fall that resulted in the death of a man that was in her trailer. The fire inhalation burns damaged her vocal cords, leaving them immobile and putting her at risk of suffocation if she was to contract a respiratory infection. Speaking to her, hearing the whoops of her breath...is or was...uncomfortable. She made it to her primary physician for a regular check up, only to be sent to the hospital...this was how serious her doctor found the situation. A tiny camera inserted into her airway showed the damage and yesterday they set about rectifying the situation with the knowledge that it may result in a tracheotomy. I called this morning and was told by a kind nurse, yes, what you say is true...she did have a tracheotomy.
My mom wrote to me through the nurse, tell her I am doing okay...and that I love her. Sometimes emotion surprises me. Because of my separation I have a disconnect in my heart regarding her.
I had to and I have to.
This is intentional.
That nurse tells me, "She says, 'I love her' ". I steadied my voice and laughed. "Yes".
I didn't say it back.
What does that make me?
Thursday, March 24, 2011
11 years
11 years. Has it been that long? Tomorrow is our eleventh anniversary...and I find myself asking the same question I did last year? How in the world did I get to marry such a wonderful man? I seem to have fallen into the situation...kind of clumsy...kind of Heatherish. I seem to fall into luck a lot in my life. How a girl from a dysfunctional family ended up in my life...mystery personified. For those that know our story, well, it started out pretty unlikely. A relationship that went from 0 to 60...literally. We had never even held hands when we became engaged. No, that wasn't intentional. In reality, we had fallen in love before we knew what hit us. When faced with the possibility of being apart there was only one option. Get married. Now, my only regret is that we didn't flee to Europe for the backpacking trip we had planned. Instead we tried to please 110 different people, tried to prove we were a match, tried to prove we were godly and that made the actual experience of getting married hell. Yep, I said it. The getting married part was the worst part of the past 11 years. If I was given a do over I would elope...somewhere. Is that terrible? Probably.
I have learned a lot the past 11 years. Some of it about myself...a lot about other people and how to let go of expectations. I have learned this...don't expect much. Invest in the people that love you.
Jon on the other hand has exceeded expectation. As he always has. If you know him, you know what I mean. A more honest, hard working, kind person you won't find. He has taught me a lot about unconditional love and patience.
I have always heard people say marriage is hard work. For us, that hasn't really been the case. Maybe it is because we went into it with eyes wide open. Maybe it is hard work...but we don't see it that way. Mostly though, it has been fortuitous that we think so similarly. So here we are 11 years later.
I made a card for him tonight, borrowed Josiah's pastels, and it was fun to make this love note with four children gathered around giving me suggestions and making observations. Thank you Sevrin for pointing out that my heart ended up looking like an octopus so that I could change it to a love tree.
I hope my children all find the kind of partner that I have.
I have learned a lot the past 11 years. Some of it about myself...a lot about other people and how to let go of expectations. I have learned this...don't expect much. Invest in the people that love you.
Jon on the other hand has exceeded expectation. As he always has. If you know him, you know what I mean. A more honest, hard working, kind person you won't find. He has taught me a lot about unconditional love and patience.
I have always heard people say marriage is hard work. For us, that hasn't really been the case. Maybe it is because we went into it with eyes wide open. Maybe it is hard work...but we don't see it that way. Mostly though, it has been fortuitous that we think so similarly. So here we are 11 years later.
I made a card for him tonight, borrowed Josiah's pastels, and it was fun to make this love note with four children gathered around giving me suggestions and making observations. Thank you Sevrin for pointing out that my heart ended up looking like an octopus so that I could change it to a love tree.
I hope my children all find the kind of partner that I have.
Monday, March 21, 2011
"She Walked"
Since blogging more consistently I have noticed how much walking plays a part of my life. I mean, I knew this before. Some people eat. Some people smoke pot. Some people watch tv.
I walk.
I think my tombstone should read, "She walked".
I walk.
I think my tombstone should read, "She walked".
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