I want to be 10 again

"I can't wait until I'm a grown up and can make all of my own decisions for myself."  I hear this a lot from my oldest.  Although the decisions get more challenging and multiply, it is a nice benefit of getting older.  Until you throw in some kids. That is when it kind of sucks.   When your decision making affects not just you, but those three little beings that hold a rather large part of your heart.  And when they hurt as a result of your decision, you hurt too.  That's when I want to be a ten year old girl simply longing to grow up.

When we bought this house we anticipated it would be our last home.  We planted trees towards the back of our field and wistfully imagined that some day one of our girls might choose to get married at this place where she grew up.  We built the house with unfinished space that we hoped to make into new rooms one day.  I let the girls draw on their walls (granted, in their closets) because no one else would ever have to see it.  We put in a pool, we bought the chickens and coop, we built a barn.  Brad bought many "farming" and "self-sustaining" books.  This was it.

But we had to make a decision.  One of those crappy, grown-up, "this will affect everyone" type of decisions.  We have talked pros and cons and "what-if's" until we are blue in the face.  Ultimately, though, we are going with what feels right in our gut.  We've decided to sell our house and move.  It was not an easy decision and there were quite a few tears involved.  I am happy to say they were mostly my tears.  The girls have really handled this well.  We've driven them around the area that we hope to move and they like it.  They are excited about a different type of lifestyle than we have had (easy walking or bike riding to stores, parks, walking paths, possibly to school).  They are sad at the thought of moving away from friends, as am I.  We've talked a lot about how we won't live that far away from them and the friendships that are the most important will last through the distance.  Laurel was very upset about leaving the place where we buried Rummy last month.  All in all, though, the "decision" went down smoother than anticipated.

When we were on vacation last week a windstorm mangled our trampoline and a creature got most of our chickens.  It kind of feels like the universe is showing us signs that it's time to leave.  I'm going on faith that the best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray.  On that note, if you know of anyone looking for 23 acres, a pool, and some of the best views around, let me know!

Seeing intentions

Back in January I wrote about my intention for the new year.  I hoped to be more aware of those little moments that might pass you by if you don't pay attention.  One of the things that I enjoy on Facebook and Pinterest are the sayings that people post.  Often these are messages that we already know, but seeing them in black and white can create an "ah-ha" moment.  They feel profound for a bit, I think to myself that I want to fit them into my daily life, but usually by the next day they are gone.  ((In my defense, I chalk some of this up to the Iceberg Effect.  The iceberg (my brain) is only so big.  Only a certain number of penguins (information) can fit on it. As time goes on there simply isn't room for more penguins.  So when more penguins need to get on the iceberg, others get pushed off.  Bigger penguins (ex: where my kids are at the moment) weed out the little penguins (ex: kitschy sayings that I like).  Survival of the fittest.  I find this happening at an alarmingly fast rate as I get older!))  Anyway, I saw this the other day and had one of those moments: 

Sometimes what bugs me about another person is more indicative of my own insecurity rather than their inadequacy.

It wasn't completely gone the next day, but not nearly as poignant.  But then I see the same message here. I'm getting the feeling that this is something that I'm supposed to be paying attention to.  What do you think?

17 years

The cicadas have descended upon the east coast.  They have been living in the ground for 17 years.  As I stood at the playground the other day with my girls I saw all of the holes in the earth where the cicadas emerged.  There was an entire world of these insects directly beneath my feet for all of the hours that I have spent in that park for the last 10 years. When I pushed Sierra in the baby swing these creatures were there.  As I caught Laurel recklessly flying down the slide, they were with us.  And now, as I help Cadence climb on the jungle gym, I see their shells and listen to their mating call.   Their drone is constant throughout the day.  It sounds extraterrestrial to me.  As if any minute I will see a spaceship lift out of the woods and ascend into the sky.  I love the sounds.  It has the soothing quality of a white noise machine (although I know that not everyone holds this same opinion!).

In just a few weeks they will disappear.  The females will lay their eggs and the nymphs will burrow into the ground.  It will be 17 years before I hear them again.  For some reason this fills me with a deep sadness.  I realized why this was the other day.  Brad and the girls were talking about the cicadas cycle, the 17 years, and how old they will be the next time that we hear their call.  Yes.  This is why. 

Cadence will have just turned 21 years old.  Is it too much to hope that she will just be tasting wine for the first time as the cicadas get ready to appear?  Laurel will be 25 years old.  She will be the age I was when I walked down the aisle.  Will I be helping Laurel pick out her wedding dress the next time the cicadas sing?  Sierra will be 27 years old.  She will be the age that I was when she made me a mother. Will I be swinging my (gasp!) grandchild as the cicadas emerge from the ground?  (Okay, seriously, that last line kind of made me nauseous!)

I know that there is no stopping it.  There is no slowing it down. Even on the hardest days, the ones filled with whining, fussing, and arguing, I try to not wish the time away.  Seventeen years from now seems like a lifetime at this moment.   Yet, I'm getting ready for my 20 year high school reunion.  There are many moments when it seems like high school was just last week.  I  know that the next time the cicadas appear in the trees I will think about this time.  The time when the days sometimes lasted forever and I wanted to leap forward to bedtime or a time when the word "no" didn't result in a complete meltdown.  Yet I know that these next 17 years will pass by before I can even realize that it is happening.  And I will long for those days when I held my giggling girls in my arms and watched them collect cicada shells and listened to the hum of creatures that are as fleeting as time itself.

Homeschool "learning experience"

You know those times when you can completely predict how something is going to go down?  You see the path and know that there is no way that you can change the direction.  Yes.  That's what homeschooling was for me.  Maybe that is why Sierra's last day at school in December was so hard.  I even told friends back then that I anticipated how homeschooling would go for us.  I would have these grand plans in my head that wouldn't come to fruition and then I would be frustrated.  I had intended to do science experiments outside, create unique art projects,  listen to NPR pod casts and have good discussions about them, pick a country to explore and immerse ourselves in, learn and teach all things photography and cooking, give Sierra the opportunity to read aloud to Cadence and Laurel's classes.  Gosh, that sounds like such an AMAZING homeschool experience, don't you think?!  I was gonna rock this thing!  Or rather, I was going to think a lot about rocking this thing, not follow through on most of it, and then feel like a huge failure.  Yep.  That's how it went down.

I do realize that it's not that black and white.  Very shortly after our homeschooling adventure started Sierra missed her friends.  There aren't many kids her age who live close by and can just pop on over to say hello and she doesn't have a phone to text.  Our plans for her to start back at karate were put on hold when I went to Africa in February and, despite my efforts, it was challenging to find tween aged homeschoolers to connect with.  Sierra missed being around people her own age.  Homeschooling quickly lost it's appeal and by February she wanted to go back to school.  But, we had committed to try for the remainder of the year so we forged ahead. 

Unfortunately, as with most disgruntled pre-teens, it was difficult to pull enthusiasm from her.  Most of my suggestions (for those rockin' homeschool plans) were met with complaints, moans, and groans.  Sierra fell asleep as we listened to NPR pod casts.  She balked at reading aloud to her sisters' classes.  She definitely did not want to learn about any countries that I brought up.  It was frustrating for both of us.  So much that, in one particular "mom of the year" moment, I actually said that I was going to homeschool both her and her sister next year - as a threat!  Yes, it was that good.  Additionally, having Laurel in school made things even more difficult.  On a few occasions we had a bit of a groove going and then - BAM - snow day (or 5 or 6).  Of course Sierra wasn't going to do school work while Laurel was home playing.  For some reason it was so hard to pick up where we left off when Laurel went back to school.  I did learn something new about myself too.  I suck at structure.  Like, majorly suck!  And Sierra craved structure to her days and weeks.  Not a good match.

It hasn't been completely horrible.  Sierra took a fabulous art class that she really enjoyed. We've been able to do a few baking/cooking projects that she wanted to do. She has enjoyed less work focused days when she was able to hang out with friends.  It was some of these times with her friends that sort of clinched it for me.  Watching her smile, laugh, and brighten up when her friends were around made me realize the impact that social interaction has on her.  It made me realize that despite all of the things that I worry about socially in middle school (we've all been there, you know what I mean!) there are things that I cannot give her at home.  I think part of me hoped that by homeschooling her I could protect her a little longer from all of the drama that I loathe to think about my girls going through.  Give her a chance to grow into her own person a little more before exposing her to what everyone else thinks she should be.  But, it might do her more harm than good as well as the fact that neither of us is enjoying the process at all.  As a very wise friend said to me today, I need to have faith.  I need to have faith in Sierra. Faith that despite cutbacks at the school she will learn and grow and thrive.  Faith that, with our support and love, she will make the right choices and find her own way and her own happiness.  Faith that even when my kids are out of my reach, that they will be okay. 

Birthday week

The end of April through mid-May I used to a bit sorry for Brad.  My birthday, our anniversary, then Mother's Day, usually within two weeks... you can imagine it was a bit overwhelming for him to cover all of those!  Then, Cadence came home with her birthday smack dab in the middle of it all.  You can guess what takes priority over all of those now!

My baby is four years old.  I'm not sure when this happened.  She is very excited to be closer to the coveted "5 years old" when she will be allowed to have sleepovers like her sisters.  She is already counting down the days until then!  In the meantime, though, she has had a blast with her friends!  Birthday celebrations at preschool, a party at the park with her friends, and then a joint birthday breakfast celebration at my parents house for both of us.  It rounded out the week well!

Cadence is not an "easy" child.  She pushes and pulls and strives for independence when she is still so young.  She is observant and literal and will call you out to prove her point.  In the hustle and bustle of our busy lives all of us moms throw some lipstick on in the car, right?  The other day Cadence wanted to take her play make-up with us and put it on in the car.  I told her that we don't put make-up on in the car.  She responded "You do.".  Why, yes.  Yes I do.  Busted!  Cadence was annoying her sisters.  I said "Cadence" in my best 'You had better stop now or else there will be consequences' voice.  She continued and I said "Cadence, I told you to stop."  She replied "No you didn't.  You said 'Cadence'."  with perfect inflection and all. 

While she may not be "easy" she is truly one of the funniest kids that I have ever met!  She cracks us up on a daily basis.  She loves babies and coloring and playdoh.  She loves group hugs and being a clown.  Cadence brings so much joy into all of our lives.  It's so hard to believe that she has only been with us for 2 1/2 years.  She has certainly filled us all with more love than we ever imagined!

Happy birthday, Cadence!

Party in the park

Making a wish

Busting into her new year!

Happy birthday to us!

Three year anniversary

I may not blog frequently, but a month off it a record for me!  Lots of indecision in so many areas of my life have left me paralyzed on all decision making fronts... including what to write about!  However, yesterday was a special anniversary.  Three years ago we received our referral for Cadence.  I wrote this blog two years ago and still remember the feelings of that day so vividly, as if it was yesterday!

Cadence's referral picture

April 24th also marked the anniversary of another beginning... the beginning of our life with Cadence. I woke up that morning, one year ago, and got ready to start the chaos of a Saturday. Gym for me, swim for Sierra, baton and a sleepover for Laurel. I hurriedly opened my email and saw a message from our adoption agency. "Waiting Child Match - WANG, FENG YE". Holding my breath, reading the email, really only processing a few words "read this ENTIRE email carefully", "Female, 5/2/09, cleft lip and palate, Hohhot, Inner Mongolia", "time constraint on shared list", "This IS a potential child match". And then there were 4 pictures... and those eyes. Deep, dark, intense eyes. They didn't seem sad or broken to me, as I've seen other orphanage pictures look. They also didn't seem ecstatically happy, but content. But it felt like they were looking right AT ME.

And I was scared. We weren't supposed to get this until December, at least. I'd been watching everyone else's timeline and this was too soon. Could this really be it? Could it really be her? Was this our daughter? Was I supposed to open up my heart to this child and believe that she would be in my arms in a few months? What if some adoptive parent put their child on a plane back to China with a note in her pocket... and China stopped their adoptions, like another country had (albeit temporarily). Was I strong enough to have faith in the process to accept and love this child now? But isn't that what I did with both Sierra and Laurel? I fell madly and deeply in love with these children from the moment I saw two lines. I took a leap and opened my heart to something that I could lose. And I do it everyday now. I am not so naive to believe that the universe will discriminately protect me from the worst heartache possible. But I keep on loving, fiercely and deeply... as I did with Cadence on the same day that I opened that email. It didn't matter that I had never touched her hair, smelled her skin, or heard her laughter. It didn't matter that she was on the other side of the world. She was my daughter.

Four and half months later I got my first look into those eyes in person. I got to hold her, wipe her tears, and eventually hear her laugh! And now, one year after seeing her face for the first time, I get to do this everyday! We are truly blessed!

The first time I laid eyes on Cadence

Two years ago

Love this girl!

RIP Rummy

She was my first baby.  I adopted Rummy (Rum Tum Tugger) a few weeks after I got my first apartment when I was 22 years old.  She was just a tiny thing and quickly grew attached to me.  Rummy was more dog-like than cat-like.  She would follow me around my apartment, sitting on the bathtub ledge when I took a shower, begging for treats, never skittish.  Back in those pre-kid days I was able to take random naps during the day and Rummy would always curl up on my stomach and nap with me.  At night she slept on my pillow.  Cupid came to me a year later when I thought Rummy needed some company.  I adored both of them... as evidenced by the pages of pictures of them in my old photo albums!  When I moved to California I left the cats in Ohio with my parents for my three month assignment.  I missed them so much and swore that I wouldn't do that again.  When I met Brad in California he sensed that I might one day be a "crazy cat lady".  I'd tell him how great my cats were, how they were different from other cats, how I couldn't wait for him to meet them!  When I reread that it does conjure images of me sitting a rocking chair with cats swarming around me!

 

Brad and I got married, Sierra was born, and Rummy quickly lost her status as "my baby".  I think she'd spent the last 10 years wondering what happened.  She's always loved attention so much that she would sit in a room full of toddlers during playgroup just waiting to be petted.  Rummy remained sweet until the end.  A few days ago she seemed off.  The next day even more so and we prepared ourselves and the kids that we would be saying good-bye soon.  Laurel stayed up late last night with me holding Rummy and telling her what a good cat she's always been, how she always had the softest fur.  Rummy died peacefully in my arms, I'm sure just how she would have wanted.  She may have lost her status as "my baby" years ago, but she will always have a very special place in my heart.  We'll miss her.

 

First cat, first apartment.

 We both look so young! 16 years ago!

Just last week