Seven Days of Family Love, day two-ish

I've had an entire week, here at the House of Hall. Complete with my son, daughter and husband. We've kept our schedule light and breezy. Plenty of time for my kids to spend hours in their own little playworld. They create entire scenarios with their dragons, reptiles and assorted lego figurines. For hours and hours they'll play. Their dynamic works quite well, my daughter is a leader and my son follows. They love each other so much.

This summer they were in two weddings. Each time a flower girl and a ring bearer. It was awesome. Especially during the receptions. My son is a chick magnet and worked the room. Pulling reluctant party goers from their tables. Dancing up a storm with lots of middle aged ladies. When the song was over he'd tell them, "I'll call you!" (No really, he did. Daddy told him to say that! :)

My daughter danced too. Swaying in her pretty dress, all silly with family love. I held her and we swayed together. My kids danced together too. It was wonderful, each of those weddings.

Given that, imagine my surprise to hear them playing a game called 'divorce' during one of their marathon playing sessions. In their pretend world, two of their plushy dragons had had a fight. My son was beside himself about it all. He didn't like that game one bit!

I went upstairs to check on things. See if I could help the dragons get back together. However, by the time I got up there, the dragons had reconciled. "They're back together Mommy," my daughter explained, "The fight is over." My son was much relieved by this. He wiped his tears and hugged his sister.

"I don't wanna be divorced.", he said. "I always wanna be married to Pancake!"

Which means during those weddings, he thought he was getting married too. :)

Seven days of family love, day one

Pancake and her Daddy were making Lego castles today. Her little brother was down for a nap. I was about to go up for a nap when the phone rang. It was an automated message informing us that one of the school teachers had passed away. We didn't recognize his name because he wasn't Pancake's teacher. I asked her if she knew what had happened. "He got sick, in his brain.", she said.

Then her Daddy asked her, "So, what are your feelings on the matter?" I loved the way he asked it. He was asking her opinion on the matter, the pros and the cons. Maybe brainstorm ideas on how to handle the sad of the situation. It was loving, thorough and efficient. Which explains a lot of Mr. Hall.

Then we asked Pancake about the teacher. Again, she didn't really know him. She described him though, she said, "He had blond hair and he was big. Not as big as you Daddy, but close."

Daddies are huge. So is their love :)

My thoughts on Newt Gingrich

You'll have to excuse this very watered down version of what could have been a very well researched and informative post.

I know of Newt Gingrich, by various news outlets. I had watched an A&E's biography on Newt, way back in the day. He became speaker of the house because of the power attached to that position. And in fact, that made sense. We live in a country ruled not by a dictator, but by a majority.

Next, I remember him resigning. Can't remember about what, but he's kind of a jerk so he probably deserved it.

Then, I remember reading a 7 page article from his former wife in Esquire magazine. See now, this is why I'm not a good political debater. I don't care about politics, I care about the stories of people. I love autobiographies, memoirs, blogs . . .

I remember his x-wife talking of how he would call her 6-7 times a day. How magnetic he was. How he spoke of high ideals and lofty goals. How he was largely missing such things in his personal life. I think he served his x-wife with divorce papers while she was in the hospital. While she was getting treatment for cancer no less. YEP. He's kind of missing some moral fiber. He's all clogged with gluttony and greed. Seems he's using high minded talk and using the buzz words of Christianity to fulfill those needs.

This doesn't really bother me though. What bothers me is that he is the face of white Christian man in power. And while I'm not one to judge (SHUT UP I AM NOT!) I really feel he needs to focus more on getting right with God then seeking office. Plus, he's saying some boneheaded things lately. This is where people get there ideas about Christians.

Look. We Christians are not a perfect people. I am perfectly capable of doing bad, selfish, mean and ugly things to my fellow man. I'm not proud of this, but I need to fess up and ask forgiveness now and again. I really, really, really try to base my actions, to root them if you will, in the ground of God. To do things in His glory.

Which is what my husband and I prayed about last night. We prayed about stopping the birth control. We prayed about our blessings as man and wife, of our children, of all that we have. We prayed that we would be blessed with another baby so we can raise them in His name, according to His word. We prayed that we would be doing all of this in His name.

It was a really good prayer. We've stopped all birth control and are giving it up to God.

THAT BEING SAID.

Wait, let me back up and completely change the subject first.

After we lost the last baby I disconnected myself from all the websites I use to go to. I stopped my account at babycenter dot com, etc. AND as I said in my last post. I won't be going to them anymore. God doesn't want me to be all hunched over, scouring websites for information. Spending hours in doctor's offices. God wants me to be happy.

Then, THAT BEING SAID.

Today, I went to the mail box and what did I spy with my little eye? A free sample of baby formula. Just like the one pictured above. Again, random free samples of baby stuff stopped when I disconnected myself from all those websites.

So why now? Why a bucket of powdered hope?

Because God loves me. He loves us! He loves all of us.

I realize breast is best but!!!


I totally believe it's a sign!





:)





WOOT!

getting my hopes up

I've been neglecting yon blog as of late. I just don't have much to say. My real life has picked up, which is nice.

The foster parent journey continues on. Met with the social worker and she had me explain myself for about 45 minutes. Kinda like a free therapy session really. It's been a while that someone new wanted to know every last detail about me. Of course, she's interested in me as future foster mom for the foster kids in her charge. But still, it's nice to be asked.

Then . . .

We got the bill from our recent adventures in birth control. Thank GOODNESS AND GOD ABOVE we have insurance. Seriously, the entire bill was about a 1000 dollars and we paided about 20% of that. That's right. Co-pay of about 2 hundo!

Holy CHIT!

THEN . . .

There are talks. Husband and wifely talks. Of craziness . . of the last six months post miscarriage. Of body, mind, soul and God. Of what if we . . . . wait . .

what if we . . .

try again?

What if we let go of the birth control? What if we don't try to prevent a pregnancy.

This (of course) unleashes yards and yards of crazy inside. It was good crazy though. Healing crazy. Soothing tears and hugs and what if's that make me us happy.

So we discussed all of this for long amounts of time. Months go by. We revisit. We think and pray and think and pray and hold each other. And wow. It's crazy and calm now.

SO . . . .

even before the check clears from our co-pay, we'll be trying again. Which wow, really? Now we have to tell the social worker we still want to sign up for a foster care liscense but- we can only do respite care for other parents for now. I feel really bad about this part. I didn't realize what I was feeling as I felt it and I didn't realize my husband was still feeling his feelings and OH MY GOODNESS.

Then the craziness starts in a whole different way. I've been through five pregnancies, two live births and three miscarriages. Yet, during the last lady part exam, I was told I was healthy and awesome. Well, not awesome per se, but healthy at least.

Then----well, NOW actually--my task is to figure out how to negiogiate this. How do I get pregnant again? I realize how, but how do i deal with my crazy? I can say that I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE ANOTHER OB GYN AGAIN FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. I DON'T WANT ANY STUPID TESTS OR PEOPLE TOUCHING MY JUNK. I DON'T WANT TO BE TOLD I HAVE TO TAKE EXTRA STUFF TO KEEP MY PREGNANCY HEALTHY AND I'M NOT GOING TO STOP DOING YOGA.

Of the list above, I think I can avoid OB GYN care until maybe the 20th week. Then I don't have to see them until the birth. And nobody has to touch my stuff. I can say no.

Mr. Hall and I will be employing a doula (kinda like a midwife) because I want my care to be from someone who doesn't triple book me into a 10 minute time slot.

And last but not least, I'll turn towards God during all of this.

Because God wants me to be happy, happy with my bible studies, happy with my church family, happy in His word. Happy with my children and blessings and happy happy happy. God designed women to be fruitful and let His blessings grow. I can get pregnant, grow a beautiful baby and birth them. He has given me two before. Miracles can happen, they've happened to us! This is how I'm dealing with. I'm choosing to be happy!

He doesn't want me to be in some doctor's office, chewing my nails and looking baleful. So, I won't!!

So, let's raise a glass shall we?

Here's to getting my hopes up!

Someday, this will be normal

That's a nice photo isn't it? It's Sgt. Hall and the wee Mac. He's now retired from the Air National Guard. He is home all the time now, which is a new normal. Which means I'm free to never again schedule our lives around guard drill weekends, two week guard excursions or tours in Iraq. It's a nice, new normal. Awesome even.

Also, health wise, things are getting back to normal. I've been stalling in fits and starts with my new healthiness. Losing and gaining the same 10 lbs over and over again. I made an appt with a dietitian and realized that I need to be more responsible. I'm logging my food at sparkpeople.com (it's free) and getting back to reality.

The reality is, is that I have no idea how to eat healthy. It's like building this whole new skill set. I'm learning that my entire diet cannot be centered around lean cuisine meals and diet coke. Learning that I don't have to do things I use to-- but how I use to do things was so normal. And this is how I came to be 172 lbs. I'm now down to 168. I say this on purpose. I don't like saying it , but saying it is one of the ways I can keep accountable.

Oddly enough, the more I keep track of my food, the less I think about it.

It's still kind of weird, not eating my former staples. It's odd not craving sweets or rummaging through the fridge for a late night snack. Also, I don't eat out anymore. That is just sad! Well not sad, just not worth it. There are no restaurants that serve quality choices on the healthy side of the menu. It's all fake sugar and low fat blandness. Nobody can do a decent salad around here without it being bullshit iceberg lettuce and a single sad tomato.

Then there are the social gatherings. I eat a balanced yummy dinner before the pizza parties and potato bar bonanzas. My absolute adoration for diet coke has now faded into a nostalgic murmur. I really like drinking water. I focus on chatting with the others during these gatherings. It makes them more fun really. In fact, I'm having more fun overall. :)

Which is fine.

I give up. I'll eat the earthy bounty before me so that I may enjoy the taste of life. I'll exercise not to get in shape but to thrive in my life. And soon, these habits won't be so strange. Someday, this will be normal. :)

Stuff I don't feel guilty about

RW did a post about things he doesn't feel guilty about. I don't feel guilty about stealing his idea.

1. Not liking Henry Rollins (who is pictured above)

I was once a fan of his spoken work, quick wit and funny stories. Nowadays, I find him grating. I can't take all the f-bombs and assorted swears. I just can't take it. Plus, I believe there is a time to be a punk ass then there is a time to grow up. To revel in the complexity and beauty of life. And stop saying the f word. He is older than me, he needs to grow up. Until then Mr. Rollins, we'll always have 'Get in the van'.

2. Buying those stupid products from PAMPERED CHEF, AVON, MARY KAY, MICHE BAGS, SCENTY OR ANY OTHER CRAP from my friends who are 'selling it'.

I am a girl. I have friends that are also females. Females think that if they sell things like pampered chef or avon, they will make money. IT DOESN'T WORK LADIES. These types of sales are pyramid schemes. You need to rope people in to be your sales staff and take a cut from their sales to even break even. So no, I won't be supporting that kind of scam. Plus the prices on that stuff is overpriced. I realize they are trying to generate a second income for themselves but just ask for money instead. Be honest with me and maybe I'll help.

And stop inviting me to your 'parties' with these products. A real party is a gathering of friends with wine, cheese and giggles. Where you don't try to sell me anything. :(

3. Saying no to stuff like PTA

I like my life on the lazy side. I will only give so much to extracurricalar activities. I really, really like my family. I like lounging and relaxing with them. I like not having my kids in three sports each. Sure, I co-lead some church groups, work almost full time and work out. But, beyond that, I need time to decompress and have quality, monkey love with the Mister. So no, I'm not volunteering for anything more.

4. My religion

Like any group of people, Christians conjure up a lot of images, thoughts and stereotypes in peoples' heads. These are influenced by the images in the media mostly. The media has a job to emotionally provoke the viewer by showing them images of hate, fear and intolerence. If the media can scare you, or make you mad . . . . you'll watch longer. And thus buy more products. . . It's a fact jack!

So, when people think about Christians, sometimes they think not so nice things. But here, in this cyberspace, let me be a shining example of God's love towards all my brothers and sisters. Let me show what God has done in my life, how rich and awesome His power is.

So there ya go.

Stuff I don't feel guilty about!

What don't YOU feel guilty about?

A wink, nod and a dream

Mr. Hall and I filled out the 30 or so pages of foster parent paperwork. It was fun actually. We just took a deep breath and filled it out. There were all manner of personal questions, like how was my relationship with my mom. Are you willing to work the birth parents in the reunification process? How is your marriage? Are there any family members who would object to a child of a different race? It's a lot of questions that are hard to answer in two or three sentences.

We try to be as truthful as possible. Like with the last question. I say, "I use to have a racist uncle, but he's passed on now."

Anywho . . .

Went to the doctor to be medically cleared. She thankfully eschewed the lady part exam, for which I'm eternally greatful. I'm tired of people looking at my lady parts. I've had way too much doctor related activity with my junk on account of the miscarriages. I say no more! I want to be back to normal with doctors. I don't want to see them anymore 'cept once a friggin year. Or never again in my life would be good too.

I was pronounced normal. . .

YAY!

Anywho . . .

In addition to the paperwork, interviews and mandatory classes; we've been emotionally preparing ourselves for this foster parent journey. As much as we can anyway.

Which brings me to Thanksgiving. I was holding my new baby nephew and getting annoyed at his Mom because she was all up in my grill. "Hold the baby like this," she says, "Hold the bottle like that! Careful for his head!" GAH!!! I've held babies before ya know!! (I used my inside voice to say this.) I started to get pissy-- but then I remembered. I was the exact same way with my daughter. Nervous, hovering and needing her in my arms at all times. :)

Then, after we got home, I felt a balloon inflate, right in my chest. It hardened to a plastic gallon of milk. It hung there, suspended by an axle and cable system from my ribs. I was just so sad, it hurt to breathe. When I breathed, I started to cry.

I am about three weeks from my now useless due date. I had decorated December 18th on my calendar with a red heart and stickers. I should be round and plump. Whining about how I can't breathe or eat because baby is taking up space.

But I'm not.

Instead, I'm learning how to live with this sadness when it wells up. A good eighty five percent of the time, it's not here. I know it will never go away though. I believe it will ebb and flow for the rest of my life. It consumes me sometimes. That's rare, the consumption. So, I'm learning to feel joy and sadness all at the same time.

I pray with Mr. Hall and try not to swim in the sadness when it comes. I purposefully tell God I am surrendering to His will about all of this.

Becoming a foster parent is a process of letting go. I am scheduling our lives around the paperwork, examinations and classes. We are not in charge of any of this. It's becoming more fun though. The more I let go, the more giggles I produce. ;)

I can say this. We are starting to work with a social worker. OH MY GAH.. I love our social worker. She lets me ask all sorts of questions and has a very pragmatic and kind way about her. Social workers are the best!

And that may be the key to this. Reaching out and leaning on people as much as I can. Which is why I'm writing this. I need to tell the stories about my life. Especially the parts that mean everything to me.

thank you for reading :)