Being a Sports Family

We spend most of our evenings on bleachers or lawn chairs. 

As I sit there I can't help but notice that many times my kids are the only homeschoolers there.

I know homeschool parents have different reasons for the things they do and we do not all share the same view on many things. But it saddens me that they are not taking the opportunities that their kids have to learn how to work as a team.
I think in terms of a team in almost every situation in life. I think of my doctor as a teammate and my pastor, my husband and even my children as part of my team. We're all in this crazy game together and I want my kids to be able to move around in these circles supporting and encouraging others. I don't think competition is bad for kids. I think we need to encourage it to an extent so they are able to develop a drive to complete tasks as adults. I also know that winning and losing teaches very valuable lessons. Winning can teach both humility and pride and, maybe even more importantly, losing teaches how to handle disappointment and how to learn from mistakes. However, I am also a firm believer that while sports teach these things there is only a limited amount of time before it is time to move on and live a life that most likely will not involve soccer or softball. I want to help my kids navigate that time as well by giving them a perspective that sports are not EVERYTHING in life.
I don't want the sports my children are in to define who they are, but I am okay with them loving a game and teammates and coaches. I want the sports we play to have a purpose and so far I am happy with the ones that we have chosen to participate in.

Being Compassionate

One of attributes I hope to instill in my children is a love for others.
I want them to love people who look like them and people who do not. I want them to put aside their comfort and try to see life from someone else's worldview. Don't get me wrong I want them to have their own worldview and be proud of it, but I don't want it to blind them to the fact that other people go through different things then them and that it shapes their lives. I want them to know that differences that are made out to be big are small and Jesus loves more than the middle-aged white guys.

When I entered college God started working in my heart by pointing out how limited I was in really understanding other cultures. I knew this about myself and I wanted more for my children. When we made the move to a new church with a lot of different cultures I was hoping I would see their worldview expand a little. So far it seems to be working. They now have lovely faces to go with words like immigrant and black and they see the love and sheer determination for survival come of our people have gone through and they love them for it.

There is so much nasty racism in the world and to see my 14-year old pick up on it and be appalled has been a  blessing. I want to foster in my children an attitude of compassion for all of mankind and broadening their worldview is what I feel I need to do to accomplish that goal. I am hoping to do more of that in the future by taking them to other countries. I want them to see the world so they can love the people in it better.

Being Halfway Through 2016

If you go back to the beginning of the year you'll find a post where I chose to not have any expectations for the year. 

I feel I have stuck to that, but I know I am on the cusp of some new things and I can't help but be introspective about my life up until now. 

I will only be a part of my MOPS group for another 2 weeks and it makes me a little sad to walk away from the ladies I have spent so much time, energy, and love on. I know it's time and I know it will free up my time to pursue new avenues that I did not have time to investigate before. In short, change is just hard sometimes. 

I remember one time over the winter when I went to our old church to do something when no one was there and I knew that my time spent there was going to be limited for awhile and then peter out completely. I stood there and just looked at the empty building where there was numerous classrooms that I had dedicated myself to working in for a long time. I knew it was the end of a chapter in my life and I didn't know what I would do without it. 

It turns out the transition to the new chapter has been good, with a few hiccups. I have seen how adaptive my family can be and how they are able to easily make new friends, which is a relief. 

However, in someways I feel like I am floundering a little, but not in a bad way more of a "God what now?" kind of way. I sort of find it odd that God has moved us yet left us right here too. I think that is probably the most confusing part of it. I feel like I have told God that I am willing to obey in big changes yet it's the lack of small changes that I cannot understand. I cannot for the life of me figure out how to navigate this huge commute to church stuff. I just can't grasp how I translate that into encouraging people from our area to join us. Perhaps that's the core of the problem, I am too worried about providing a church experience for people when all I really need to do is tell them about God. I think of two teenage boys who used to live a couple doors down from us and spent pretty much everyday one summer in my backyard. I recently ran into them and they were excited to tell me that they were going to a birthday party at our old church. I didn't tell them that I had moved on because I know they wouldn't understand. But I couldn't help but think to myself, "all that ground work and I am not even going to see how it turns out." I guess I am still working through some bitterness too. Mostly just the bitterness that we couldn't find a way to fit in. I saw clearly that we would never be able to reach our "full potential" there, but it doesn't change the fact that I wish we could have. Do not get me wrong, I LOVE where we are right now. Its mostly just navigating all our old friendships. No one really understands why we had to make the decision we did to walk away. We've explained it a number of times, but its hard to explain without feeling like we are slinging mud. We don't want to be mean about it, but it seems like everyone else has no problem laying on the guilt trips, so we're caught in this weird catch 22. I guess life is just like that and I will, as always, stand by silently and watch it go by.

Being a Fairytale

Fifteen years. 

I can hardly believe that it has been that long since we set out on this journey.

I could never have dreamed what these years would hold.

I got married at 7:00 in the evening, in a garden, in a very short ceremony, with less than 100 people in attendance (I still have a soft spot for small weddings because of it).

The day I was married it was unseasonably cold and it rained during the day. 

About two hours before the ceremony my mother burned a hold into the front of my dress (for some reason she loves to tell this story). 

Neither the rain nor the hole phased me.

However, I will always remember at one point right before the ceremony for some reason I was left alone in the front of the building just standing there thinking....

Thinking, what am I doing? Do I want to bind myself to this man forever? Is this really the right decision? I could just walk out the front door and drive away and it would be okay, I think.

I didn't do it and for that I am thankful.

I've written about how our marriage was "out of necessity" before. But, I don't think I have ever talked about what exactly I have experienced as a wife. There's no way I could talk about everything in one post, so I'm going to just think through some events that changed me.

Here we go...

I remember our first fight. I don't remember what we fought about, but I remember taking the dog and just walking the city blocks thinking and stewing and then eventually deciding to let it go. It would be a strategy I would use often because let's face it everyone messes up and sometimes you just have to choose to let it go and forgive.

I remember digging out all of our bills and working together to pay everything down little by little.

I remember seeing the tears in my husband's eyes when he met his son for the first time and how my dumb first thought when I saw him was "wow, he has big feet." 

I remember the miles upon miles my first baby and I made around the east side of the city we lived in at that time, because I was lonely and our apartment was sweltering.

I remember almost burning down the kitchen while trying to make cornish hens (I haven't made them since).

I remember being lonely and wanted to move back home.

I remember moving back home and going back to church.

I remember a trip to Niagara Falls where I only saw the falls from the bridge crossing the border.

I remember having my first daughter after a violin lesson.

I remember my husband suddenly burning all of his comic books and me not fully understanding why.

I remember promising my husband to listen to all of J Vernon McGee's sermons before I die, even though his voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me.

I remember fully committing myself to God.

I remember a crazy February snow storm when we made the news because of the amount of snow we recieved.

I remember having a baby during said storm.

I remember thinking we were done having kids at three.

I remember being surprised to find out I was pregnant with my fourth.

I remember another little girl coming into the world and stealing her daddy's heart straight away.

I remember laughter, lots of laughter. Laughter at my kids, laughter at my husband. Learning that my whole-hearted belly laugh can make my husband crumble beside me.

I remember a new "giant" house.

I remember a career change for my husband and him getting shingles because he was so stressed.

I remember pushing my husband to pursue his degree.

I remember having my husband come to me and saying "so I'm feeling we need to open ourselves up to adoption."

I remember seeing this little blueberry-eyed, blonde boy peek his little head around the door to see "who was here to see him."

I remember rushing to the ER to see my oldest have his kneecap relocated and him yelling for me.

I remember hearing my youngest crying for only me when he was coming out of anesthesia.

 I remember standing by and watching as the church I grew up in started to not meet our needs anymore.

I remember feeling hopeless to help my little energizer bunny and wishing there was someone who could help me.

I remember going back to college so that other moms wouldn't have to feel like that.

I remember deciding it was time to move on and pursue different things spiritually.

I remember watching my husband become sensitive to the needs of others and truly caring.

I remember starting this marriage thinking I would just have to live with it because I got myself into this mess.

And I remember God having another plan and allowing my husband and I to grow and experience all these things together and to become closer and happier than we've ever been before.

As I remember all of these things all I can say is; "Man, this sure has been a crazy ride." It's funny to think back and see how our love and family looks so different from when it started. I never could've guessed fifteen years ago we would be here today. 

It seems every year we talk about how there won't be anything as big as the year before, but somehow God keeps surprising us. We think to ourselves, what's bigger than ____ and all of a sudden our world is turned upside down.

 I cannot presume to even guess what surprise is in store this year or the years to come. I know there will be some pain and some happiness, but I just don't know how it will manifest itself. Honestly, I'm kind of excited to find out.

Being a "Mother"

Birthmother's day was yesterday and Mother's day was today, so as you can guess I have been thinking a lot about moms and the different roles we play and the labels we receive. I follow a couple different online community pages about adoption (way more religiously before we added our fifth child and I started school again) and I remember this one post that made me feel really annoyed with labels. On this particular post a birthmother was venting about how she did not like when the other members of the board used the anagram "BM" for mothers like her because it could stand for bowel movement. This poster was slammed pretty hard for stating her opinion and it turned quite nasty and was completely unnecessary. Was her post an over-reaction, yes, but did all the adoptive mothers and fathers need to jump down her throat, no. I felt bad for her because all those ladies and men were basically saying her feelings were less important than their time to actually type out the word. It was ridiculous, but it taught me a lesson that day. It taught me that labels are dumb and who cares what we call each other. I know I am supposed to prickle when I hear people ask things like, "are you his REAL mother?", but I don't see the point, because 1. I know they don't understand the terminology and 2. it really doesn't matter that much to me that I did not birth him because I know he is mine and so does he.
I think of my role in our boy's life as a pinch hitter of sorts. His birth mom hit the home run but was unable to run the bases so I stepped in to help finish the job. Both jobs are important and dependent on the other. I am not against our birthmother I am on her team and we are in this together. So if someone tells me birth moms don't like to be called something I am not going to call them that simply because I think their role is so important and I care about their feelings. We're all just moms and we're trying to do what is best for our kids. Let's work together!

It also helps that my 5 year old son thinks having two mamas is stinkin' awesome!

Being a Personality Type

     

         Here's another little insight into my inner workings. I don't really know what I am. People seem to be obsessed with posting articles and blogs about being introverts lately. These pieces always rub me wrong because I feel like they are kind of a cop out. I think everyone has introverted AND extraverted tendencies. I can definitely see where I am both and where others are too. For example when I am in a crowd with people I don't know well I tend to be quieter and just observe what is going on around me. My husband who grew up in a crowd (11 siblings) says that I shouldn't do this that I "need to fill the silence", but I don't believe him and I don't think this makes me an introvert of any stretch of imagination. Its pretty interesting to think through these 2 personality-types in comparison with us as a couple. In outward appearances I feel like my husband would be considered the more outgoing one, but really he will say that he doesn't like people very much and is perfectly happy locking himself away into his office for hours at a time. In my mind and according to all of those articles that would make him an introvert.

   

Now looking at me you would find someone who enjoys crowds (we have 5 kids for goodness sake), loves new experiences, and actually kind of likes to put herself in foreign situations just to get a different perspective. However, to take in all this new information I rarely open up to people on our first meeting. So does spilling one's guts upon meeting equate being an extravert? I don't think it does, because I do not shy away from meeting people and I will carry on a conversation with anyone who wants to talk to me they just have to make the first move.

**Update: After taking a class on Personality, I can now say that I label myself as a "Shy extravert." I'm shy because of all the reasons I listed above, but I'm an extravert because I feel recharged from being around other people. One is a personality trait the other is a temperament. I guess it really is about "the more you know." :-)**

Being A New Year

A year's worth of wear.

Two-Thousand-Fifteen began and ended not as I expected. 

How does one even attempt to look into the future and know what's going to become of her? 

 I have hopes for 2016, but no concrete plans because I just cannot fathom what will become of it.