I know all of my hunter friends will probably think this blog is lame including three of my very own family. HOWEVER, I don't care. :) I need to spit this out...theraputically, of course.
Hunting blows. I dread hunting season every single year. You know, it should have been an indication of what my life would be like, when, on our wedding day, my fiance and his friend spent the morning pheasant hunting ("and we got our limit, too!!") before the wedding. He was on time, thankfully, but there was a little bit of worry about that on my end. Another indication, perhaps, might have come a year later, when on our first anniversary was spent pheasant hunting in the morning, (I rode along...MAN I must have been in LOVE or extremely BORED) and for supper, I got to fry up what he shot. Happy Anniversary!
I have heard of people saying that they are a hunting 'widow' and boy can I sympathize! It's so true! I don't understand men when they get into the whole, "Man hunt, woman COOK" sort of mode, but it seems almost caveman-ish at times!! And let's not forget that they get up before the ass-crack of dawn, so when they come home they are tired!! Soooo, boots get thrown, camo gets thrown, guns laid out everywhere, and suddenly I have three corpses in the living room wrapped in little blankies snoring away...and the worst thing is THEY WAKE UP HUNGRY!! I know, I know, I should be more supportive. I will give my guys credit lately, due to some substantial meltdowns on my part, I have managed to get them to pick some of their stuff up before they crash. And, I don't like guns laying around when Levi is bopping about. I have thrown some pretty impressive fits in my eighteen years of marraige, and they have paid off in the long run, to an extent at least. :)
And, let's just take a moment to talk about the hunting videos, and the hunting shows on Saturday mornings that occur when they are NOT hunting. Ahh, yes, the camera is focused on a beautiful area...sun just coming up over the trees, and here comes...well, let's say, a deer...and the deer is majestic, and huge, powerful...and beautiful in his own surroundings...he is walking...the sun is rising...and you hear a shaky whisper...'ohhhh...that's a dandy..." and then, you hear the crunch of the deer's steps, as it looks straight into the camera as if to say, 'huh?" and then BAM!!!!!!! A tuft of fur goes flying, blood is pouring out of his side, and the deer takes off running only to crash, dead, like, 100 yards later. Then the camera goes to this hunter...who just ended this glorious animal's life, and he's crying...and shaking, saying, "This is a dandy of a buck...thank you, God, for this great hunt....blah blah blah" and I'm like SERIOUSLY??? You're BAWLING??? Ugh...Dumbest thing EVER!! (in my opinion!) Who the hell says, 'dandy' anymore, anyway??
And, let's talk about the crap. The hundred guns, because, of course, you need several different kinds because they all shoot differently and one might be more fun than another...the camo, my GOD the camo...is there any end to the amount of camo that is needed? Warm camo, cooler camo, blaze orange, camo hats, blaze orange hats, camo gloves, hats, facemasks....and there's not just one kind, there's endless different patterns, all for different things, and if you hunt everything there is, YOU GOT A LOT OF CAMO! Dear John, rent a storage shed. I am sick of trying to find my way around the basement!
Now, how about the stories? MY GOD, the STORIES...all about how many, how far, how many shots, who shot, who can't shoot, who can't aim, who CAN aim, who got this one and who got that one, and "yes I DID shoot some, but they all got away" or "I got that one, but the dog couldn't' find it..." ARRGGHHH!!! I'm not saying I'm not interested...but I'm not THAT interested! And John is always saying things like, "You know, I shot this one by that lake on that land that guy owns that I knew in junior high" or something like that, and I'm supposed to know exactly where it is! I'm lucky if I can find my way to the grocery store, PLEASE don't turn me loose in the country!!
OHHH and let's not forget when one of my daycare moms came and said, "Is that a liver by your door?" Nice clean up, guys. Glad she could see a goose liver right next to where the kids come in the house. I'm sure that's amazing for business. Or when another one of my moms pulled up and almost stepped on a pile of feathers that she was pretty sure was still alive...ugh! I think it was a pheasant wing...:( How embarrassing.
Okay, hunter friends, I know you enjoy this stuff more than life. I apologize if I have hurt any of your delicate feelings...and, I know you can defend this hobby into the ground which is why I've never asked my guys not to do it. I bitch about it, but I sort of accept it as being who you are.
But, even if it's who you are, it will probably never be who I am...and that's okay!
Now, who wants to scrapbook? :)
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
People That Inspire Me...
Someday, when I grow up...I would like to have some qualities of the people who have inspired me throughout my life. I have been so incredibly blessed to have had these people strategically placed in my life, and I want to give them credit, on the off chance that they didn't know how I felt about them!
My Mother, first and foremost. Raised seven children in a one-income house, for the most part. I never remember her making us feel like we ever had anything to worry about other than being kids. She never made it seem like things were hard, even though at times they were! When I look back on my childhood, I just have this warm, loving feeling. My Mom is beautiful, inside and out. I think at times, I probably embarrass the hell out of her with my large, unfiltered mouth...but she accepts me for who I am. She is always there with a loving nudge in the right direction, whether I want to BE nudged or not! She will always be my hero. I couldn't make it through anything without her!
My Dad, with his ability to say whatever is on his mind. Sometimes, I think, 'wow, that was harsh...' but then as I think about it, I'm like, 'dude, he was totally right.' My Dad is an amazing, talented man, and I definately care what he thinks, and try to make decisions in my life that he would be proud of...still to this day, he's a man I don't want to disappoint. EVER.
My sisters, Cathy, Cindy and Ellie. My three best friends. These girls are with me no matter what, but I use each one a little differently. If I need someone to tell me I'm doing a great job, and that I'm worth something, I call Cathy. If I need someone to sympathize with me, and feel sorry for me, I call Cindy. If I want someone to kick the shit out of someone with me, I call Ellie. HAHA! In all seriousness, these are my go-to girls, and I hope that I can always be there for them the same way they are for me. Amazing women...amazing talents...I am so very blessed to have them.
My brothers, Bill, Danny and Adam. It's funny, Bill just called me yesterday, and although we don't get to talk much, when we do it's just like no time has passed and we are still in our house in Wesley throwing frozen pounds of hamburger through windows. Bill and I are 11 1/2 months apart, and he is an awesome, hard-working guy, and is just plain decent all the way around. I think you'd be pretty hard pressed to find an 'issue' with Bill...he's laid back and caring, and I love that about him. Danny, well, if you know that kid, then you're probably laughing right now. Talk about comic relief! He has made me laugh so many times...I'm talking tears rolling down your face laughing! I love having him in my life, and I love talking to him. Just don't forget his birthday. And Adam...Adam who is probably the most talented one in our whole family. I don't think there is anything that guy can't do when he wants to. And I don't just mean he can 'do' it, it's perfect...I only wish I could have a shred of his talents!
My kids, of course, inspire me. More than they will likely ever realize. I am so proud of my three boys no words could ever possibly explain. I hope someday I have the COURAGE that those three have.
My husband, who can help in terrible accidents, fires, and other emergencies, and handle it so professionally...there is no way I could ever do that, but thank GOD he does...and thank ALL of the volunteer firefighters, and EMT's...for what they are able to do in our times of need...
My friend, Glenda, who just always seems to have her life in order. She'll say she doesn't, but she does. Sometimes when we talk, I feel as though I should excuse myself and go start making lists as to how I am going to be better!! She always has my back, and I love her for that!
SOOO many other people but these are the ones I have contact with nearly every day...and I feel there is a reason for that! So, thank you, to all you beautiful people who make every single day on this earth a little brighter and a lot better! I LOVE YOU!
My Mother, first and foremost. Raised seven children in a one-income house, for the most part. I never remember her making us feel like we ever had anything to worry about other than being kids. She never made it seem like things were hard, even though at times they were! When I look back on my childhood, I just have this warm, loving feeling. My Mom is beautiful, inside and out. I think at times, I probably embarrass the hell out of her with my large, unfiltered mouth...but she accepts me for who I am. She is always there with a loving nudge in the right direction, whether I want to BE nudged or not! She will always be my hero. I couldn't make it through anything without her!
My Dad, with his ability to say whatever is on his mind. Sometimes, I think, 'wow, that was harsh...' but then as I think about it, I'm like, 'dude, he was totally right.' My Dad is an amazing, talented man, and I definately care what he thinks, and try to make decisions in my life that he would be proud of...still to this day, he's a man I don't want to disappoint. EVER.
My sisters, Cathy, Cindy and Ellie. My three best friends. These girls are with me no matter what, but I use each one a little differently. If I need someone to tell me I'm doing a great job, and that I'm worth something, I call Cathy. If I need someone to sympathize with me, and feel sorry for me, I call Cindy. If I want someone to kick the shit out of someone with me, I call Ellie. HAHA! In all seriousness, these are my go-to girls, and I hope that I can always be there for them the same way they are for me. Amazing women...amazing talents...I am so very blessed to have them.
My brothers, Bill, Danny and Adam. It's funny, Bill just called me yesterday, and although we don't get to talk much, when we do it's just like no time has passed and we are still in our house in Wesley throwing frozen pounds of hamburger through windows. Bill and I are 11 1/2 months apart, and he is an awesome, hard-working guy, and is just plain decent all the way around. I think you'd be pretty hard pressed to find an 'issue' with Bill...he's laid back and caring, and I love that about him. Danny, well, if you know that kid, then you're probably laughing right now. Talk about comic relief! He has made me laugh so many times...I'm talking tears rolling down your face laughing! I love having him in my life, and I love talking to him. Just don't forget his birthday. And Adam...Adam who is probably the most talented one in our whole family. I don't think there is anything that guy can't do when he wants to. And I don't just mean he can 'do' it, it's perfect...I only wish I could have a shred of his talents!
My kids, of course, inspire me. More than they will likely ever realize. I am so proud of my three boys no words could ever possibly explain. I hope someday I have the COURAGE that those three have.
My husband, who can help in terrible accidents, fires, and other emergencies, and handle it so professionally...there is no way I could ever do that, but thank GOD he does...and thank ALL of the volunteer firefighters, and EMT's...for what they are able to do in our times of need...
My friend, Glenda, who just always seems to have her life in order. She'll say she doesn't, but she does. Sometimes when we talk, I feel as though I should excuse myself and go start making lists as to how I am going to be better!! She always has my back, and I love her for that!
SOOO many other people but these are the ones I have contact with nearly every day...and I feel there is a reason for that! So, thank you, to all you beautiful people who make every single day on this earth a little brighter and a lot better! I LOVE YOU!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Discovering Autism
People have asked me many times how I knew Levi had Autism. The story is kind of interesting.
I had a tough pregnancy with him, nothing crazy bad, but I honestly thought he was going to kick himself out of the womb long before I had carried to term. He was VERY active. I developed some problems about three weeks before my scheduled c-section date, and ended up having to have him three weeks early. The doctor assured me, after an ultrasound, that his brain was fully developed, and that delivering at 37 weeks really held no risks. I honestly DID stop to think...I wonder if this is a good idea...but because they were afraid I was having a gall-bladder issue, we decided to go ahead and have him on August 23, 2002.
He was perfect, of course. TINY! The other two boys had been well over nine pounds, and here is this little seven pound nothin...what on earth am I supposed to do with HIM? A total peanut!
He was so cute. He smiled like he was supposed to, he was a lousy sleeper, but a lot of them are, so that didn't really worry me. And, he was mine. That made him perfect.
As time went on, Levi got bigger. I did notice by the age of 18 months that he really hadn't talked much yet. A word here or there, but had never called me 'Mom' or John "Dad"..and I thought it was interesting, but I wasn't worried about it. I just noticed it.
By the time he was two, still he wasn't really talking, but was doing a fabulous job of playing by himself (yeah, duh, Kim...no WONDER!). I would watch as he built these little circles around himself, taking hours to get every corner lined up just so...everything facing exactly where he wanted it to, and if it didn't meet his approval, the whole thing would get messed up and he'd start over...(someone should have been SCREAMING 'autism' at this point!) He didn't do a lot of cuddling (another sign), and he still really wasn't calling John or I "mom" or "dad"...he would point at something if he wanted it, but not always, sometimes he would just get really upset. He loved to jump up and down flapping his arms...(if God had dropped a 400lb wooden sign on my head it could not have been more obvious)...and he just had a million, what I called, 'quirks'. The truth is, I loved his quirks. I thought he was the neatest kid I'd ever observed.
However, one day, I was giving my friend Kellie a perm, and I'll never forget this as long as I live. We had been using flashcards during daycare that day, and they were on the counter. Levi, who really didn't talk at this time, came in and took the stack of flashcards off the counter and dropped them all over the floor. As he helped me pick them up, he told me the name of each letter, lowercase AND uppercase, and every number as he handed them to me. It was our Rain Man moment. I just looked at him in utter disbelief, and instead of being proud, the first thought in my head was, "This is bad..."
"It's almost like...AUTISM."
The weekend that followed was Memorial Day weekend, and we were camping with John's family. Part of me was too afraid to even voice the word to John, because John was so excited about how smart Levi was...so, I was talking to his sister and mom, telling them the story of the flash cards...and let the words come out..."it's almost like...autism". The second I said that it was as though a weight had been lifted off Judy and Dawn, like, SHE FINALLY GETS IT!! When they started telling me that they had thought that for awhile, my first feeling was just...well, I was crushed. I was crushed that they had not shared their thoughts with me! I must have looked like such an idiot!
We went home and I immediately called MY mom, and told her what Judy and Dawn had 'thought'...and Mom got very quiet, and I knew she'd been thinking the same thing.
Then I REALLY felt like an idiot.
Truthfully, that was the impossible situation. How do you tell someone that you think their child has Autism?? It's not an easy thing to say to someone, let's face it. Especially someone you love. In their situations, I don't think I'd have handled it any differently.
So, I called the AEA, and got a meeting set up, and they confirmed what, by then, my heart already knew for sure, Levi was autistic.
A lot of things go through your mind when you get this news. What did I do wrong? Why is this happening? What is life going to be like for him? Will he ever have friends? Get married? Hold a job? Get a driver's license? Live without fear of so many things? Protect himself from harm?
I have known since Levi was 2 1/2 years old, and he's now 8. Not one of the questions that I pondered above has been answered. They don't bother me as much now as they did in the beginning because I've come to realize that they don't matter. Every bridge will be crossed when we get to it. Everything will unfold as time goes on, just as it does in everyone's life. There have been many times where Autism will get us down, but then we work through it...we move on...we try harder.
Levi goes to five therapy sessions a week. Two 30minute Speech Therapy sessions, Two 45 minute OT sessions, and 1 hour of food group a week. (What would we do without Grandpa and Grandma Greenfield and their ability to provide transportation...a HUGE thank you, as always!) The sessions help him to communicate, and to learn to do things that his body is afraid of doing...things like swinging, and riding a scooter...jumping into a ball pit...without being terrified. Food Group helps him to try new foods...because he is very picky. He works with a Speech teacher at school, and spends most of his day in the Special Ed room. He cannot participate in PE...it terrifies him. He also has some wonderful respite workers that will take him different places when he needs a change of pace...(Jess Stakey, Jessica Landt, and Jered Johnston, you guys are the best of the best, and I love you.) They also take him when John, JT, Ben and I want to do something that he can't handle. (football games, etc)
But, all that aside, Levi is the most awesome kid. He is perfect, exactly the way he is. He goes through all this therapy and stuff because he needs to learn to survive in the world, but if I had my way about it, the world would simply embrace him for the amazing little boy he is. AS IS. He has taught me to look at things through his eyes, and you just haven't lived until you've seen the world as he does.
I guess what it boils right down to, is that Autism wasn't the tragedy I'd always thought it was. Finding out that my baby had autism didn't end life...it simply changed it. Is this the road I would have hand chosen for him? No. If I could change him now and make him completely 'normal' would I do it? No. Because he wouldn't be the Levi that I love so dearly. I accept him for what he can do and what he cannot. I will always be amazed by his accomplishments and his talents, no matter how 'small' they seem to some. He is my baby, my perfect gift from God.
Thank you, Levi. You are the most amazing little boy, and my life has changed only for the better because you are in it.
I had a tough pregnancy with him, nothing crazy bad, but I honestly thought he was going to kick himself out of the womb long before I had carried to term. He was VERY active. I developed some problems about three weeks before my scheduled c-section date, and ended up having to have him three weeks early. The doctor assured me, after an ultrasound, that his brain was fully developed, and that delivering at 37 weeks really held no risks. I honestly DID stop to think...I wonder if this is a good idea...but because they were afraid I was having a gall-bladder issue, we decided to go ahead and have him on August 23, 2002.
He was perfect, of course. TINY! The other two boys had been well over nine pounds, and here is this little seven pound nothin...what on earth am I supposed to do with HIM? A total peanut!
He was so cute. He smiled like he was supposed to, he was a lousy sleeper, but a lot of them are, so that didn't really worry me. And, he was mine. That made him perfect.
As time went on, Levi got bigger. I did notice by the age of 18 months that he really hadn't talked much yet. A word here or there, but had never called me 'Mom' or John "Dad"..and I thought it was interesting, but I wasn't worried about it. I just noticed it.
By the time he was two, still he wasn't really talking, but was doing a fabulous job of playing by himself (yeah, duh, Kim...no WONDER!). I would watch as he built these little circles around himself, taking hours to get every corner lined up just so...everything facing exactly where he wanted it to, and if it didn't meet his approval, the whole thing would get messed up and he'd start over...(someone should have been SCREAMING 'autism' at this point!) He didn't do a lot of cuddling (another sign), and he still really wasn't calling John or I "mom" or "dad"...he would point at something if he wanted it, but not always, sometimes he would just get really upset. He loved to jump up and down flapping his arms...(if God had dropped a 400lb wooden sign on my head it could not have been more obvious)...and he just had a million, what I called, 'quirks'. The truth is, I loved his quirks. I thought he was the neatest kid I'd ever observed.
However, one day, I was giving my friend Kellie a perm, and I'll never forget this as long as I live. We had been using flashcards during daycare that day, and they were on the counter. Levi, who really didn't talk at this time, came in and took the stack of flashcards off the counter and dropped them all over the floor. As he helped me pick them up, he told me the name of each letter, lowercase AND uppercase, and every number as he handed them to me. It was our Rain Man moment. I just looked at him in utter disbelief, and instead of being proud, the first thought in my head was, "This is bad..."
"It's almost like...AUTISM."
The weekend that followed was Memorial Day weekend, and we were camping with John's family. Part of me was too afraid to even voice the word to John, because John was so excited about how smart Levi was...so, I was talking to his sister and mom, telling them the story of the flash cards...and let the words come out..."it's almost like...autism". The second I said that it was as though a weight had been lifted off Judy and Dawn, like, SHE FINALLY GETS IT!! When they started telling me that they had thought that for awhile, my first feeling was just...well, I was crushed. I was crushed that they had not shared their thoughts with me! I must have looked like such an idiot!
We went home and I immediately called MY mom, and told her what Judy and Dawn had 'thought'...and Mom got very quiet, and I knew she'd been thinking the same thing.
Then I REALLY felt like an idiot.
Truthfully, that was the impossible situation. How do you tell someone that you think their child has Autism?? It's not an easy thing to say to someone, let's face it. Especially someone you love. In their situations, I don't think I'd have handled it any differently.
So, I called the AEA, and got a meeting set up, and they confirmed what, by then, my heart already knew for sure, Levi was autistic.
A lot of things go through your mind when you get this news. What did I do wrong? Why is this happening? What is life going to be like for him? Will he ever have friends? Get married? Hold a job? Get a driver's license? Live without fear of so many things? Protect himself from harm?
I have known since Levi was 2 1/2 years old, and he's now 8. Not one of the questions that I pondered above has been answered. They don't bother me as much now as they did in the beginning because I've come to realize that they don't matter. Every bridge will be crossed when we get to it. Everything will unfold as time goes on, just as it does in everyone's life. There have been many times where Autism will get us down, but then we work through it...we move on...we try harder.
Levi goes to five therapy sessions a week. Two 30minute Speech Therapy sessions, Two 45 minute OT sessions, and 1 hour of food group a week. (What would we do without Grandpa and Grandma Greenfield and their ability to provide transportation...a HUGE thank you, as always!) The sessions help him to communicate, and to learn to do things that his body is afraid of doing...things like swinging, and riding a scooter...jumping into a ball pit...without being terrified. Food Group helps him to try new foods...because he is very picky. He works with a Speech teacher at school, and spends most of his day in the Special Ed room. He cannot participate in PE...it terrifies him. He also has some wonderful respite workers that will take him different places when he needs a change of pace...(Jess Stakey, Jessica Landt, and Jered Johnston, you guys are the best of the best, and I love you.) They also take him when John, JT, Ben and I want to do something that he can't handle. (football games, etc)
But, all that aside, Levi is the most awesome kid. He is perfect, exactly the way he is. He goes through all this therapy and stuff because he needs to learn to survive in the world, but if I had my way about it, the world would simply embrace him for the amazing little boy he is. AS IS. He has taught me to look at things through his eyes, and you just haven't lived until you've seen the world as he does.
I guess what it boils right down to, is that Autism wasn't the tragedy I'd always thought it was. Finding out that my baby had autism didn't end life...it simply changed it. Is this the road I would have hand chosen for him? No. If I could change him now and make him completely 'normal' would I do it? No. Because he wouldn't be the Levi that I love so dearly. I accept him for what he can do and what he cannot. I will always be amazed by his accomplishments and his talents, no matter how 'small' they seem to some. He is my baby, my perfect gift from God.
Thank you, Levi. You are the most amazing little boy, and my life has changed only for the better because you are in it.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Tom and the Possum of Death.
This is one of my favorite stories I like to share about my Dad. He nearly murders me every time I bring it up, so because I like to live on the edge, I am going to put it in my blog.
I will start out by saying, this will be a lot funnier if you know my father, but it's still pretty dang funny if you don't.
You know how when you are a little girl, you just know your daddy is going to be there to protect you from everything bad, right? You come to trust that as long as this man is in your presence you're gonna be JUST FINE, right?
Maybe??
One evening, my sister Ellie was having Dad look at something on her car. I was there talking to them in the driveway at Dad's house. So, it's about dusk, and it's getting darker, and all of the sudden, one of us looked over and saw this...shall we say, 'creature' walking across the circle drive...and we all kind of squint to see it, was it a cat?? NO!! IT'S A POSSUM!!! Now I'm sorry, those might be one of God's ugliest rat-like creatures, and Ellie and I were OUT OF THERE!! We start screaming and take off on a dead sprint to the garage, thinking Dad will take care of the unwelcome visitor, right?
All of the sudden, I realize that there are footprints behind me, and I look back to see my Dad's panicked eyes and his legs sprinting as fast as he could screaming for Ellie to "CLOSE THE DOOR!! CLOSE THE DOOR!!" (meaning the garage door which was open), and so Ellie flies in to the garage followed by me and Dad and is looking for the button, and pretty soon the garage door goes down...and we all just stood there for a minute looking at each other like, 'what the hell just happened??"...and one of us said, "Is it still out there??" So, ever so gently, we peer out the smaller door...my head on the bottom, Ellie's head above mine, and Dad's head on top. We see that the possum has barely made it to the edge of the driveway, probably a mere 6 feet from where we originally saw it...(they really aren't that fast, you know.) :) Anyway, I look at Dad, and just bust out laughing...and he said, "What?? It was licking my heels!!" He swears to this day that it was indeed, licking his heels.
So, like the true cowards we were, we stayed in the house until we were sure he was gone, or at least gone from our view, before we emerged again.
My Dad still thinks the only good possum is a dead possum...but he also swears that from time to time, he can still hear the scraping of claws on the pavement of that particularly horrible possum from that night, and marvels at the fact that we made it out alive.
I'm not going to say that I thought differently of my Dad after that night, but let's just say, if I want to be protected from THAT type of predator in the future, I will make sure that it is my husband that I look to, and not my Dad!!
Licking his heels...REALLY?
I will start out by saying, this will be a lot funnier if you know my father, but it's still pretty dang funny if you don't.
You know how when you are a little girl, you just know your daddy is going to be there to protect you from everything bad, right? You come to trust that as long as this man is in your presence you're gonna be JUST FINE, right?
Maybe??
One evening, my sister Ellie was having Dad look at something on her car. I was there talking to them in the driveway at Dad's house. So, it's about dusk, and it's getting darker, and all of the sudden, one of us looked over and saw this...shall we say, 'creature' walking across the circle drive...and we all kind of squint to see it, was it a cat?? NO!! IT'S A POSSUM!!! Now I'm sorry, those might be one of God's ugliest rat-like creatures, and Ellie and I were OUT OF THERE!! We start screaming and take off on a dead sprint to the garage, thinking Dad will take care of the unwelcome visitor, right?
All of the sudden, I realize that there are footprints behind me, and I look back to see my Dad's panicked eyes and his legs sprinting as fast as he could screaming for Ellie to "CLOSE THE DOOR!! CLOSE THE DOOR!!" (meaning the garage door which was open), and so Ellie flies in to the garage followed by me and Dad and is looking for the button, and pretty soon the garage door goes down...and we all just stood there for a minute looking at each other like, 'what the hell just happened??"...and one of us said, "Is it still out there??" So, ever so gently, we peer out the smaller door...my head on the bottom, Ellie's head above mine, and Dad's head on top. We see that the possum has barely made it to the edge of the driveway, probably a mere 6 feet from where we originally saw it...(they really aren't that fast, you know.) :) Anyway, I look at Dad, and just bust out laughing...and he said, "What?? It was licking my heels!!" He swears to this day that it was indeed, licking his heels.
So, like the true cowards we were, we stayed in the house until we were sure he was gone, or at least gone from our view, before we emerged again.
My Dad still thinks the only good possum is a dead possum...but he also swears that from time to time, he can still hear the scraping of claws on the pavement of that particularly horrible possum from that night, and marvels at the fact that we made it out alive.
I'm not going to say that I thought differently of my Dad after that night, but let's just say, if I want to be protected from THAT type of predator in the future, I will make sure that it is my husband that I look to, and not my Dad!!
Licking his heels...REALLY?
Monday, October 18, 2010
Football Mom...sort of
Okay, so back when we figured out that the boys' eye condition was pretty serious, our amazing eye doctor, Dr. Suh, told us that the boys should never be in any contact sports. Again, this was when they were like, four and five, and it just didn't really seem like THAT big of a deal, right? WRONG!!
JT's love for football began on the playground at school during recesses. Seemed innocent. I was pretty sure they wouldn't hurt each other too bad...and it's supposed to just be TOUCH football. Don't think I don't realize that there were an awful lot of tackles in 'recess TOUCH football'...but it didn't worry me too much. However, I just thought he was having fun, I didn't realize that he was learning everything he could about the game!! And LOVING it!! At the end of sixth grade, Coach Klemp told the boys that if they were interested in playing, they should come and talk to him. JT is a lot like his Dad, when something is bothering him, he's not a big talker...just gets quiet. Well, that night when he came home from school, he was VERY quiet. I couldn't get a word out of him, which is rare for me, because I can get a word out of almost anyone. (it's a gift) Finally as I dug at him he told me how upset he was that he couldn't play football, and proceeded to beg me to let him.
What do you do, when you see this boy that you love more than anything, staring at you with huge, desperate, bright blue eyes?? It wasn't that JT wasn't CAPABLE of playing the game, in fact he was a great kicker, he's a good thrower, he had the size, and the ability!! The eye doctor told us that one good knock to the head could detach his retinas just like that. I'm sorry, but there is a lot of head knocking happening out there on that football field, even in the lower grades!! John was all for him trying. I was...not. Not in the least, actually. However, I talked to my Mom, and she kind of made me feel like I couldn't put him in a bubble just because I wanted to. He had to be able to have opportunities...you can't really live life if you base it on 'what if's'. JT and John kept saying things like, 'I could fall down walking to school and have the same thing happen!'..So, finally, I talked to Coach Klemp, and I asked him to just give him a position like, kicker. Can't touch the kicker, right??
I went to that first game, sick. I mean, SICK...terrified. What if....what if....what if...was all that was going through my mind as I watched my little boy (who I noticed was really not that little) have the best time of his LIFE. He ended up playing a lot more than kicker!! But, he just loved it. How could I deny him that?
Well, I denied Ben. Ben wanted to play so bad in 7th grade, but because we weren't just dealing with the eye scare, we were also dealing with spondylolysthesis, and JRA, I told him absolutely not. I pointed him towards manager where he got teased by the other kids, and called 'sissy' names. I don't know if they knew why he wasn't out there. Ben doesn't really like to tell people what he can't do, which I find to be totally admirable. Anyway, this year, I caved...again, very reluctantly, but with John totally on board! I went to his games and watched as he jumped up time after time. He played both offense and defense, and didn't spend much time out of the game! He doesn't have the size that JT has and that made it a little more scary for me, but if Ben had any fear out there, you wouldn't have known it.
Through the fear of the dreaded 'what if's'...I am so very proud of BOTH of my football boys.
However, at the games you probably aren't hearing me yell, because no matter how hard I try, I don't understand the rules of that damned game...and also because I tend to yell things like, "RUN THE OTHER WAY!!" "GET OUT OF THERE!!" and when they crawl out of a heap I want to yell things like, "CAN YOU STILL SEE ME NOW???" "HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?!?!"
One day this mom was screaming at her kid, "GET UP! SHAKE IT OFF! You're FINE...GET BACK IN THERE!!" and here the poor baby had broken his ankle! I think if that is what a football mom says, I'm okay with never being one!
I have been sworn to silence in the stands by JT and Ben. One time I yelled, "GO JT!" which I found to be totally harmless, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, his head just dropped, and one of his friends patted him on the shoulder as if to say, "It'll be okay..." and I realized that you can't yell, "GO JT!" when the game hasn't even started yet. Apparently it's just not 'cool'. I am learning as I go!
I talked about finding blessings last time, and how you have to look for them. Well, the blessing in this is very evident. My boys have made it through another football season unharmed. What an amazing blessing that is!! I believe that they are each on that field with an angel on their shoulder keeping them safe. I am learning to be less freaked out by the games, and that, too, is a huge blessing. AND, it gives John and I something to do together that we both WANT to do...and that's more of a MIRACLE! (nothing has to get shot...and nobody has to scrapbook...)
GO HAWKS!
JT's love for football began on the playground at school during recesses. Seemed innocent. I was pretty sure they wouldn't hurt each other too bad...and it's supposed to just be TOUCH football. Don't think I don't realize that there were an awful lot of tackles in 'recess TOUCH football'...but it didn't worry me too much. However, I just thought he was having fun, I didn't realize that he was learning everything he could about the game!! And LOVING it!! At the end of sixth grade, Coach Klemp told the boys that if they were interested in playing, they should come and talk to him. JT is a lot like his Dad, when something is bothering him, he's not a big talker...just gets quiet. Well, that night when he came home from school, he was VERY quiet. I couldn't get a word out of him, which is rare for me, because I can get a word out of almost anyone. (it's a gift) Finally as I dug at him he told me how upset he was that he couldn't play football, and proceeded to beg me to let him.
What do you do, when you see this boy that you love more than anything, staring at you with huge, desperate, bright blue eyes?? It wasn't that JT wasn't CAPABLE of playing the game, in fact he was a great kicker, he's a good thrower, he had the size, and the ability!! The eye doctor told us that one good knock to the head could detach his retinas just like that. I'm sorry, but there is a lot of head knocking happening out there on that football field, even in the lower grades!! John was all for him trying. I was...not. Not in the least, actually. However, I talked to my Mom, and she kind of made me feel like I couldn't put him in a bubble just because I wanted to. He had to be able to have opportunities...you can't really live life if you base it on 'what if's'. JT and John kept saying things like, 'I could fall down walking to school and have the same thing happen!'..So, finally, I talked to Coach Klemp, and I asked him to just give him a position like, kicker. Can't touch the kicker, right??
I went to that first game, sick. I mean, SICK...terrified. What if....what if....what if...was all that was going through my mind as I watched my little boy (who I noticed was really not that little) have the best time of his LIFE. He ended up playing a lot more than kicker!! But, he just loved it. How could I deny him that?
Well, I denied Ben. Ben wanted to play so bad in 7th grade, but because we weren't just dealing with the eye scare, we were also dealing with spondylolysthesis, and JRA, I told him absolutely not. I pointed him towards manager where he got teased by the other kids, and called 'sissy' names. I don't know if they knew why he wasn't out there. Ben doesn't really like to tell people what he can't do, which I find to be totally admirable. Anyway, this year, I caved...again, very reluctantly, but with John totally on board! I went to his games and watched as he jumped up time after time. He played both offense and defense, and didn't spend much time out of the game! He doesn't have the size that JT has and that made it a little more scary for me, but if Ben had any fear out there, you wouldn't have known it.
Through the fear of the dreaded 'what if's'...I am so very proud of BOTH of my football boys.
However, at the games you probably aren't hearing me yell, because no matter how hard I try, I don't understand the rules of that damned game...and also because I tend to yell things like, "RUN THE OTHER WAY!!" "GET OUT OF THERE!!" and when they crawl out of a heap I want to yell things like, "CAN YOU STILL SEE ME NOW???" "HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?!?!"
One day this mom was screaming at her kid, "GET UP! SHAKE IT OFF! You're FINE...GET BACK IN THERE!!" and here the poor baby had broken his ankle! I think if that is what a football mom says, I'm okay with never being one!
I have been sworn to silence in the stands by JT and Ben. One time I yelled, "GO JT!" which I found to be totally harmless, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, his head just dropped, and one of his friends patted him on the shoulder as if to say, "It'll be okay..." and I realized that you can't yell, "GO JT!" when the game hasn't even started yet. Apparently it's just not 'cool'. I am learning as I go!
I talked about finding blessings last time, and how you have to look for them. Well, the blessing in this is very evident. My boys have made it through another football season unharmed. What an amazing blessing that is!! I believe that they are each on that field with an angel on their shoulder keeping them safe. I am learning to be less freaked out by the games, and that, too, is a huge blessing. AND, it gives John and I something to do together that we both WANT to do...and that's more of a MIRACLE! (nothing has to get shot...and nobody has to scrapbook...)
GO HAWKS!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Finding Blessings
Do you ever notice how sometimes you really have to search for your blessings, and sometimes they just seem abundant? Things may seem to be going pretty well, pretty NORMAL...(which is really all I want) and then they take a turn and start going downhill. You have to really stop and not let yourself fall into the negativity, and at times, that can be a real struggle!
We found out recently, that Ben cannot get his license. His eyes are just not good enough to allow for this 'privilege' that we all take for granted. I started really realizing the weight of this...thinking, how many times do I hop in the van for something? How many times do I want to go somewhere, so I do? I don't have to depend on anyone to drive me anywhere...and think about going to work. How do you get to your job? You probably drive, right?? And it just hit me...so as I was telling some people, I would hear things like, "Oh well! It's okay! It'll be fine!!" and the immature little brat in me wanted to slap those people and say, "how would you like to have your license taken away?? Don't tell me it's going to be FINE..." but knowing of course, that their hearts were in the right place, I didn't act on impulse. :) The thing that sucks, is we find this out now, as Ben was about to recieve his permit. It won't hit Ben fully until he's supposed to get his license in two years, and all of his friends are getting theirs...and then we will have to go through the anger, sadness, and 'not fair' feeling that we just went through, but on a bigger scale, because it will be REAL. The thing is, I don't know what to say to Ben. I got nothin. No 'talk' I can come up with is going to fix this, and it is all going to fall on my young son to deal with this new blow to his life, and I hate it. Take MY sight. Give MY eyes to Ben, I will gladly trade. He said, "Can we afford laser eye surgery?" And then, I had to tell him what his doctors have told us, he and JT are not candidates for these types of surgeries.
JT was able to get his license which helped Ben out a little, because he can still get away from Mom and Dad now, even if he does have to be nice to his big brother, but there's a little problem with JT, too. He can't drive when headlights are required. No fog, no dark driving, he's restricted. So, this really cuts down on his privilege, too! Think about it, in the winter, when you are driving home from work...it's probably dark!! The only time he's really going to be able to be out til a whopping 8:30-9:00 is going to be in the summer...and I thought, what about going on dates? Going out with friends? He likes to hunt early in the morning, and it's dark then, too!! We always knew it was going to be tough for the boys to drive, if they could at all. I've known this since they were like, 5. But now that it's here, it's like mourning the news all over again, like I said, on a much larger scale, because it's becoming so REAL. And again, I just hate it.
Then, poor John, struggling with leg/back issues that we can't seem to figure out, but we are in the process of some tests...and I'm just terrified as to what they will find...it just doesn't appear to be something 'simple'. And, because hospitals aren't always, 'user friendly' we just have to sit and wait until they decide that they can get him in...and the waiting sucks.
Levi has been on a 'hoarding' mission lately, and has been building forts out of every stuffed animal, blanket, pillow, and toy he can incooperate into his design, so every time I turn around I have a PILE of toys, etc. to put away again...and that should really be the least of my worries, but I have noticed that it's getting to me more than it normally would...(gee, I wonder why??)
SO! Through all of this, I'm still supposed to be able to laugh, smile, and stay upbeat for my guys. And, I do, for the most part. But, sometimes, I just want to sit down and bawl for like, I don't know, a day or two...just til I get it all out...and then see if I feel any better! I am pretty sure I would walk away from that with a migraine, so I'm not going to do it. :)
But, this morning, as I was sitting outside with Levi waiting for the van to come and get him, he got in cuddle-mode. He just curled up on my lap and laid his head on my shoulder, and started talking about a moose...I have no idea where he was going with his moose talk, but I didn't care...then I looked up, saw the brilliant blue sky, felt the crisp fall air on my face, watched the leaves fall around us as we snuggled, and I realized that everything IS going to be okay. Do you want to know why? Because it has to be. Because we are given one life, and nothing is promised. God has a plan for my family. I will never know, while I am here on earth, what his plan is, because I'm not supposed to.
Dear Lord, I accept your plan for my family and for me. Please help me to find the blessings all around, no matter how insignificant they may seem. Help me to be a good mommy to my boys, and help me to guide them in the right direction. Help John find his strength again, and keep him safe. Thank You for the amazing friends and family you have given us to fall back on when we need to. In your name, Amen.
We found out recently, that Ben cannot get his license. His eyes are just not good enough to allow for this 'privilege' that we all take for granted. I started really realizing the weight of this...thinking, how many times do I hop in the van for something? How many times do I want to go somewhere, so I do? I don't have to depend on anyone to drive me anywhere...and think about going to work. How do you get to your job? You probably drive, right?? And it just hit me...so as I was telling some people, I would hear things like, "Oh well! It's okay! It'll be fine!!" and the immature little brat in me wanted to slap those people and say, "how would you like to have your license taken away?? Don't tell me it's going to be FINE..." but knowing of course, that their hearts were in the right place, I didn't act on impulse. :) The thing that sucks, is we find this out now, as Ben was about to recieve his permit. It won't hit Ben fully until he's supposed to get his license in two years, and all of his friends are getting theirs...and then we will have to go through the anger, sadness, and 'not fair' feeling that we just went through, but on a bigger scale, because it will be REAL. The thing is, I don't know what to say to Ben. I got nothin. No 'talk' I can come up with is going to fix this, and it is all going to fall on my young son to deal with this new blow to his life, and I hate it. Take MY sight. Give MY eyes to Ben, I will gladly trade. He said, "Can we afford laser eye surgery?" And then, I had to tell him what his doctors have told us, he and JT are not candidates for these types of surgeries.
JT was able to get his license which helped Ben out a little, because he can still get away from Mom and Dad now, even if he does have to be nice to his big brother, but there's a little problem with JT, too. He can't drive when headlights are required. No fog, no dark driving, he's restricted. So, this really cuts down on his privilege, too! Think about it, in the winter, when you are driving home from work...it's probably dark!! The only time he's really going to be able to be out til a whopping 8:30-9:00 is going to be in the summer...and I thought, what about going on dates? Going out with friends? He likes to hunt early in the morning, and it's dark then, too!! We always knew it was going to be tough for the boys to drive, if they could at all. I've known this since they were like, 5. But now that it's here, it's like mourning the news all over again, like I said, on a much larger scale, because it's becoming so REAL. And again, I just hate it.
Then, poor John, struggling with leg/back issues that we can't seem to figure out, but we are in the process of some tests...and I'm just terrified as to what they will find...it just doesn't appear to be something 'simple'. And, because hospitals aren't always, 'user friendly' we just have to sit and wait until they decide that they can get him in...and the waiting sucks.
Levi has been on a 'hoarding' mission lately, and has been building forts out of every stuffed animal, blanket, pillow, and toy he can incooperate into his design, so every time I turn around I have a PILE of toys, etc. to put away again...and that should really be the least of my worries, but I have noticed that it's getting to me more than it normally would...(gee, I wonder why??)
SO! Through all of this, I'm still supposed to be able to laugh, smile, and stay upbeat for my guys. And, I do, for the most part. But, sometimes, I just want to sit down and bawl for like, I don't know, a day or two...just til I get it all out...and then see if I feel any better! I am pretty sure I would walk away from that with a migraine, so I'm not going to do it. :)
But, this morning, as I was sitting outside with Levi waiting for the van to come and get him, he got in cuddle-mode. He just curled up on my lap and laid his head on my shoulder, and started talking about a moose...I have no idea where he was going with his moose talk, but I didn't care...then I looked up, saw the brilliant blue sky, felt the crisp fall air on my face, watched the leaves fall around us as we snuggled, and I realized that everything IS going to be okay. Do you want to know why? Because it has to be. Because we are given one life, and nothing is promised. God has a plan for my family. I will never know, while I am here on earth, what his plan is, because I'm not supposed to.
Dear Lord, I accept your plan for my family and for me. Please help me to find the blessings all around, no matter how insignificant they may seem. Help me to be a good mommy to my boys, and help me to guide them in the right direction. Help John find his strength again, and keep him safe. Thank You for the amazing friends and family you have given us to fall back on when we need to. In your name, Amen.
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