tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84788283918170450832024-03-12T16:46:18.376-07:00This Complicated LifeThis blog is about nothing and everything all at the same time.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-80046770302186931672012-11-12T16:07:00.002-08:002012-11-12T16:07:14.148-08:00<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">You can tell the size of your God by looking at the size of your worry list.
The longer your list, the smaller your God. ~Author Unknown</span></span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-24356121378895516242012-11-12T16:03:00.002-08:002012-11-12T16:03:26.768-08:00Adoption...It Ain't for the Weak.Now it pretty much takes common sense to know that adoption is tough. It's not as easy as a glass of wine and a back rub that may eventually turn into a baby. Oh no. Adoption involves so very much more. You'll need a back rub and a glass of wine as you go, but it may not move things along or even make them easier or even produce the kid you long for. It seems like a "sure thing", but...<br />
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I'm an open book. I don't hide much and I am willing to share my experiences in hopes of helping others. Truthfully, I've just always been known as a "big mouth". I had no idea that upon choosing to move forward in the adoption process I would have to expose all parts of myself, including those parts I had forgotten about for so long. I didn't mind the medical exams and immunizations. I don't mind the paperwork although it can be very annoying. I don't mind the politics. The thing that really gets me is having to share every little detail of my personal life. It's one thing if it's my idea, but when I'm made to do it? Not as easy. And it's not basic questions. It's hard questions. Questions on integrity and morals. Questions of your dating and marriage history to your spouse. Now, don't get me wrong; I know why they ask all these things and we probably should ask parents that conceive biological children the same ones, but it's tough laying your whole life out to be scrutinized over and then be told if you are "fit" to parent. My young, yet very wise friend Rachael asked, "So two crack addicts can do 'it' under a bridge somewhere and have a kid and no one questions it, but you are trying to save a kid that lives in an orphanage that no one wants and you have to do all this?" Yup. That's pretty much it.<br />
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My husband and I know that we are supposed to do this. We are supposed to adopt our little guy. We are his forever family. If I didn't constantly keep that in mind and stay focused on the end goal it would be easy some days to shout a few expletives and be done with the whole stinking process! There a very few times in my life that I can recall following God's will for my life. I often know what He wants me to do, but since I like to control things I fight it. I fight Him. When it has come to adopting there has been little fight from me. We all just know it's where we are being led and so we go. When I start to worry about the money, the paperwork, the time, the possibilities...I am instantly calmed by that peace you hear about. You know, the kind that surpasses all understanding? So, even though I am weak, and sometimes the adoption process sucks, <strong>He is strong</strong>. I persevere. I follow. And in the end, that is what faith is all about, isn't it?<br />
ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-22214600038165593522012-11-04T12:04:00.003-08:002012-11-04T12:04:48.582-08:00<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30294A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> orphans and widows<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30294B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-24036907415426601692012-11-04T12:02:00.000-08:002012-11-04T14:01:06.502-08:00Best Laid Plans...It's been a long while since I've written anything. Therefore it feels crazy jumping from my last post to what I'm about to share now...<br />
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Ya, so, we are adopting a Russian...! Some of you reading this may already know the big news. Others of you may be thinking, "Wait. Wasn't this lady just writing about her bad postpartum experience and now she is adopting an orphan?" I know. If I were looking in on someone else I'd likely be thinking the same. But if you saw this kid...if you looked into his eyes, you'd get it. Let's go back to 4 short months ago...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEb5ustf4hZ0iEz06k8Mj3fD2YYpbnWi38BKx1SDCvfWk5SH24LSeOJyosaUenXZH3feq1xFOjN_faYNQsw_MU6YPe_eOOHzwBiGQs0e9uiJ-mP-3r3fqdObwUl3Xpz3q49XAU5urda5kh/s1600/iPhone+pics+2+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEb5ustf4hZ0iEz06k8Mj3fD2YYpbnWi38BKx1SDCvfWk5SH24LSeOJyosaUenXZH3feq1xFOjN_faYNQsw_MU6YPe_eOOHzwBiGQs0e9uiJ-mP-3r3fqdObwUl3Xpz3q49XAU5urda5kh/s320/iPhone+pics+2+031.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My kiddos after setting up Edik's sleeping area.</td></tr>
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Our church participated in a program called "Journeys of Joy" through Friends of Russian Orphans(<a href="http://www.fororphans.org/">www.fororphans.org</a>) where a group of Russian orphans along with an orphanage staff member and translator come and stay in the U.S. for 16 days. Host families volunteer to take care of these children during their stay and help them get the feeling of what family life can be like - if only for 2 weeks. We had a "mini" home study and went to some training classes to know how to deal with these kids and how to communicate with them as they knew no English. We chose to be a host family with the idea that this would be a great experience for our children and a way to make an impact on a young child's life. The children come with very little clothing or supplies, so we gathered these items as we waited for our little guy to arrive. <br />
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You may wonder how a family gets paired with a certain child. I wonder too. We were asked to write our gender age and preference, and we chose a girl with an age range of 10-11 so our daughter could have the experience of having a sister. When we got our e-mail revealing our child it read, "We are pleased to introduce you to your host child Eduard, age 6." I was thinking, "I ORDERED A GIRL!" I seriously has to be reasoned with as to why we may have been paired with a boy and why that made sense in our family. Looking back it was all part of a much bigger plan that we truly had no control over.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSOYLcWhzdodzbQ-mkRrpmd_AoUQ6KOdEhJMHbAusrQ1ixJMLdIIyprs3UpKQ53sawcZ-_rXnhj6VYebRhV6Pd__krQHrhW8SoFrZzpP9YuRxEvpqkQSbvOgb9-eLfksejCC8lrxl9Dpv/s1600/iPhone+pics+2+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSOYLcWhzdodzbQ-mkRrpmd_AoUQ6KOdEhJMHbAusrQ1ixJMLdIIyprs3UpKQ53sawcZ-_rXnhj6VYebRhV6Pd__krQHrhW8SoFrZzpP9YuRxEvpqkQSbvOgb9-eLfksejCC8lrxl9Dpv/s320/iPhone+pics+2+001.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eduard - Age 6</td></tr>
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<br />
The Russian children slept at our church and were with us from 8am when we met them for breakfast until around 8:30pm when we returned them to the bunkhouse. We set up Eduard's bed and waited anxiously for his arrival. To describe the morning we finally got to meet him is difficult. It was certainly very emotional, as we had known this boy from his picture and in our hearts for months, but he had only seen us from the picture we laid on his bed. He was visibly nervous, but we found quickly that he handles emotions with humor. He made silly faces and did funny things to make this strange situation easier. Eduard (Edik for short - said like Eric) is extremely physical and loves to climb. That's pretty much what he did on our church's playground; that and try to get squirrels. We grew comfortable enough to head out on our own with him and that began our 16 days of realizing our family had been missing something.<br />
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I'll be honest. At first we had no plans to adopt. Even once we met Edik, I still wasn't sure. I had my two kids who are amazing. I had a marriage that with some work had gotten to a place of happiness and peace. I wasn't really sure I wanted to disrupt that. My husband on the other hand apparently knew upon seeing his picture that we would adopt him! In fact we had many "discussions" our first week having Edik here because everyday he would ask me, "So, what do you think? Should we adopt him?" This wasn't something I wanted to be pressured on, and I needed to come to the answer on my own. People in our lives felt very free to tell us what they thought our decision should be one way or the other. Even once we had decided to adopt it is amazing to me how many people were hung up on the fact that Edik was Russian and not American. I always respond to those questions with the answer that we weren't planning to adopt and this is where we were led. Honestly though, I would never question someones choice to adopt from overseas. Who am I?<br />
<br />
We had the opportunity to have Edik with us for 3 full days and nights before the children returned to Russia. We packed up and headed north to my in-laws home in the Michigan woods. We swam, walked in woods, and enjoyed time with family. The last day of being up north I asked Edik if he was excited to return to Russia. He slowly shook his head no. Then I asked him if he liked being with us and he said loudly with his hands in the air, "Da!" So, there was my sign. The day Edik left was sad and awful. He was part of our family and we had to say goodbye. He was quiet. Not himself.<br />
I had no idea what to say. We couldn't say a word referencing adoption, and we couldn't cry. We were under strict orders from the orphanage director not to cry because if we did the children would cry too. I had to send my daughter to the bathroom to gather herself before Edik saw her. Watching the children leave us was difficult. Not knowing when, if ever, we'd see them again. My husband was supposed to return to work, but couldn't muster the will. We decided to go have breakfast as a family. During that breakfast we made a decision that changed our lives. We went around the table and rated from 1-10, with 10 being the best how we each thought our two weeks with Edik had been. We all acknowledged that it wasn't always easy, but no one gave it lower than a 9. Then we each said whether we thought we should adopt Edik and it was a unanimous YES! That single word propelled us into something we ever expected...ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-30672985057528904852010-06-18T11:56:00.000-07:002010-06-18T12:01:17.285-07:00<span style="color:#cc33cc;">God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame. ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-28273270944247791642010-06-18T11:09:00.000-07:002010-06-19T15:56:02.741-07:00Reality(I didn't look back to see if I have blogged on this subject before, but then I decided to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">just</span> go there again because we all need to think on this one a bit more...I know I do...)<br /><br />Who are you REALLY? Is the person everyone sees, day in and day out, the person you are? What about the life people see from the outside? Is it really the life you live? I know I am a great pretender. I have been that way my whole life. Until someone really gets to know me I will always say how great things are with me and how great Dan and the kids are... Bottom line - I am a liar. There are some days I just want to kill someone. There are some days I want to run away. There are actually days I wonder what the hell I am doing here! When I see myself faking it I get mad. I get mad because I faked it through about 2 years of my life not that long ago. I was in the darkest place and most people had absolutely no idea. Until my mom heard my talk in <a href="http://thiscomplicatedlife-ladyk.blogspot.com/2009/07/threes-company.html">California</a> last summer she was clueless. Even my husband, who I told how horrible I felt, was clueless. I was scared that if I admitted how crazy I really felt and some of the things I was really feeling that they would lock me up. They probably would have which may not have been a bad thing.<br /><br />Last night I began a book study at church. It's all about finding out what your spiritual gifts are. Not what you're good at. Not your skills. What we are searching for are the gifts God bestowed on us when we were made. The first question we were asked by our leader was, "WHO ARE YOU?" All of us stared with this blank look. When you have a room full of women, most of them mothers, that is a loaded question. We are what we do! That is what our lives are based on and really for me to tell you who I am is nearly an impossible task these days. My life, for the most part, does not reflect who I feel I truly am. Don't say, "That's sad!" or "Kendra sure takes her life for granted!" because I don't. I know what I have are all gifts from God - that's why I don't run away on the days I want to! But I do think I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sacrifice</span> many of my wants to satisfy the needs of my family and those closest to me. THAT is my reality. I look forward to learning more about myself through this study and maybe be reminded that our plans for our lives aren't always God's plans. I hate that. But just like I have over the years when things didn't go my way, I will look back and know it was all for the best.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-73680949740059016502010-06-17T11:31:00.000-07:002010-06-17T11:37:38.738-07:00<span style="color:#ff6600;">Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere. ~Glenn Turner</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-80706803350061382342010-06-14T19:30:00.000-07:002010-06-17T11:31:14.241-07:00Ya. It's Me. I'm Back.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pLk9hvFEDXfd_SIw4QoxR_r_6snfbXOva32mYr2pALqu4BXgy3ikXjbPPFvIoOLHvqFB6RxLKjpVWMS7klyp3R3X4AdDWVtBxvfwbMQHMqH3IlnglEc8w72HNihpvjGFWppRcBCjeUJo/s1600/028.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483811001967703650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pLk9hvFEDXfd_SIw4QoxR_r_6snfbXOva32mYr2pALqu4BXgy3ikXjbPPFvIoOLHvqFB6RxLKjpVWMS7klyp3R3X4AdDWVtBxvfwbMQHMqH3IlnglEc8w72HNihpvjGFWppRcBCjeUJo/s320/028.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Blah. Yup, that pretty much describes how I've felt for the 9 or so months since I have posted on this page... All my 16 followers (4 at least) have been BEGGING for me to come back, so here I am. Nice opener, huh? I wish I even knew where to begin... </div><br /><div>Life has a way of just being around you if you don't live it. I feel like I have literally floated through the last many months and that I haven't got much to show for it all. This blog has been taunting me the whole time. It has said things like, "Say something witty, why don't cha?" or "You aren't a writer! You are a chick who got lucky. You are a one hit wonder." Well, I'm back. This time it isn't to share me with you a much as it's to maintain a certain level of sanity. To begin, at least to put myself in the proper frame of mind, I will try to compile a list of all the good things that have happened over the last 9 months so I can be the glass-half-full girl I like to think I am.</div><br /><div><strong>Good Things</strong> </div><br /><div></div><div>1. Went to NYC to see Expressing Motherhood.</div><br /><div>2. Began substitute teaching again.</div><br /><div>3. My daughter turned 8. Wow.</div><br /><div>4. Celebrated my 9th year of being married to my wonderful husband.</div><br /><div>5. Thanksgiving.</div><br /><div></div><div>6. My baby boy turned 5. Wow again.</div><br /><div></div><div>7. Christmas.</div><br /><div></div><div>8. My friend Melanie and I were chosen to perform in Expressing Motherhood in Boston this fall.</div><br /><div></div><div>9. Substituted for a month. Have to admit; I loved the extra money...</div><br /><div></div><div>10. Watched my baby finish preschool. sniff.</div><br /><div></div><div>So there you have it. That is my feeble attempt to focus on the positive! For those of you who don't know me I am a worrier. I am anxious. My mind is constantly reeling with what might go wrong and what bad things could happen to me or my family. Some may call this "crazy" behavior, but I believe all that worrying can contribute to my creativeness if honed in the right direction. </div><div> </div><div>Thank you to those who continue to push me, even when I push back, because I need that. I hope I can provide you with some interesting stories and thoughts that might help you through your days and help you to feel just a little bit better about you! Mwah!</div><div> </div><div>P.S. Do you like my new picture?<br /></div><br /><div></div>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-30807814028809103322009-09-04T10:23:00.000-07:002009-09-04T10:25:05.267-07:00AliveNo, my friends, I have not left you. Fear no more. I have simply been working on another writing project that I hope to reveal more of as I gain confidence in it...<br />Stay tuned. Much love to you all.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-920609170066119312009-08-21T17:05:00.000-07:002009-08-21T17:09:21.905-07:00AspirationsSo, today we are driving. The kids and I are cruising along when the Queen song "Killer Queen" comes on the radio. Lilly begs me to leave it on because she "loves that song". Sam, out of no where, spouts from the backseat, "That's what I wanna be when I grow up! A killer queen! I love this song too!" Wonder what Daddy would say?? I loved every minute of it!ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-27511579361160167132009-08-19T08:13:00.001-07:002009-08-19T08:13:56.494-07:00<span style="color:#000099;">"Children are unpredictable. You never know what inconsistency they're going to catch you in next." ~Franklin P. Jones</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-78739539942118707492009-08-19T08:00:00.000-07:002009-08-19T08:08:56.222-07:00MilestonesThis morning a beautiful thing happened. I woke up late. Quite late. In fact, it was so late I woke up worried because my kids hadn't eaten their breakfast yet and I was sure they were just wasting away somewhere crying that since their mommy came back from California she just doesn't love them anymore... I came downstairs anticipating the crying and sadness and STARVATION. My youngest came into the kitchen, squeezed me around my hips and just smiled up at me. He wasn't wasting away-thank GOD. Then I told him I was going to make pancakes and sausage for breakfast and he says, "Mommy, we already ate breakfast!" I'm am sure my face was sheer confusion, so he went on to tell me that he and his sister were hungry so they got breakfast all by themselves that way I didn't have to wake up! Do you know how long a mother waits for this day? I love all the milestones - walking, talking, sleeping through the night. This one though, THIS ONE takes the cake! The best start to a day ever.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-23814272779142505302009-08-18T12:27:00.001-07:002009-08-18T12:27:58.473-07:00<span style="color:#ff6600;">"To live remains an art which everyone must learn, and which no one can teach." ~Havelock Ellis</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-21393372536279998012009-08-18T11:42:00.000-07:002009-08-19T08:00:11.482-07:00Life goes on...I have been home nearly one week. It is still crazy to me that I was gone for three weeks. It is even crazier that it all feels like a dream. I know it happened, but being back here, it feels like nothing different <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">occurred</span>. I am back to my laundry basket being full in the family room, waiting for me to fold. I am back to dirty bathrooms. Making beds. Feeding the cat. Scooping poo. Wiping butts. Cooking meals. Grocery shopping. Vacuuming. I am back to having my day pretty much planned for me.<br /><br />What makes all these mundane tasks worth doing? Kisses, hugs, and I love yous. My husband telling me how much he missed me. I wasn't sure what coming home would feel like. Frankly, I liked doing whatever I wanted. Selfishness is like a disease, and much longer out in LA LA Land, and it would have completely taken me over. While I was there I missed here. I knew though that my time was limited, and as the days flew by I jammed as much as I possibly could into the minutes as they rushed by. I want to be here. I know this is where I belong. Within me is this pull though because really, I could live 100 lifetimes and still not do or accomplish all that I feel I am meant to. The dilemma is <strong>how do you choose what to be in your lifetime</strong>? I am a wife and mom. Those for me are my most important roles at this point. Will the roles change? Will my focus change? Do I have to give up other things to do these two things really well? Why do I have to give up anything? I know the answer, but it isn't easy. I want what I want with my husband and kids by my side. But what about them? What do they want? Too many questions, not enough answers.<br /><br />It is amazing and scary how easily I fell back into my life here. How can we all have what we want and all be happy?ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-68338651362975257602009-08-09T11:54:00.000-07:002009-08-09T13:19:05.748-07:00<pre> <span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" >To Get Me To You</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Sung by Lila McCann</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > From the "Hope Floats" Soundtrack</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Well I, I still can remember times</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > When the night seemed to surround me</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > I was sure the sun would never shine on me</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > And I, I thought it my destiny</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > To walk this world alone<br /> But now you're here</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > with me</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Now you're here with me</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > And I don't regret the rain</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Or the nights I felt the pain</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Or the tears I had to cry</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Some of those times along the way</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Every road I had to take</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Every time my heart would break</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > It was just something that I had to get through</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > To get me to you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > To get me to you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Well I, I still can recall the days</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > When I had no love around me</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Makes me glad for every day I have with you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > And I, I look in your eyes and know</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > I'm right where I belong</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > And I belong with you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Always belonged with you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > And I don't regret the rain</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Or the nights I felt the pain</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Or the tears I had to cry</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Some of those times along the way</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Every road I had to take</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Every time my heart would break</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > It was just something that I had to get through</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > To get me to you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > To get me to you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > And if I could I wouldn't change a thing</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Wouldn't change a thing baby</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Because your love was waiting there for me</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Waiting there for me baby</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > And I don't regret the rain</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Or the nights I felt the pain</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Or the tears I had to cry</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Some of those times along the way</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Every road I had to take</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Every time my heart would break</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > It was just something that I had to get through</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > To get me to you</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > To get me to you</span></pre>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-53269908821280128142009-08-09T11:27:00.000-07:002009-08-09T13:18:00.986-07:00Hold On, I'm Comin'I have officially been in California for 17 days. The time has flown by. Really. It seems as though I just arrived and this whole experience has been a whirlwind. It has gone by so fast that I forgot how much I missed my husband. That is, until he arrived the other day. I could not believe how happy seeing his face made me. How I knew, in the instant I saw him walk through the doors at the airport, that God created him and I for one another. This man, who I take for granted on a daily basis, came here to support me and everything I had stuffed down deep to make it through the last couple weeks came rushing at me. He admitted worry as we began catching up. He admitted being afraid that I didn't miss him and the kids. That I did not want to come home from this fantasy land. I fessed up that I have enjoyed this "me-time." I have not - for 8 years - done anything even remotely close to this. I told him that I loved being part of the show and that it fulfilled me in a way that mothering can't. I also admitted that this time away confirmed even more to me why I am married to him and why I love him with all of my soul and all of my being. After all, this is the man who loved me through my crazy time. This is the man who tells me how beautiful I am <span style="font-weight: bold;">all the time</span>. The man who loves my ass, no matter how big or small it has gotten over the years. This is the man who is truly my best friend. The one who gets me; possibly more than I get myself most days. I realized during my time here I have tried so hard to focus on why I was here and just prayed to stay focused on that. In that process I tried not to think too much about home - and now I can only think of home. I counted down 12 weeks until I arrived here. Now I am counting down 3 days until I am in Toledo, having a camp out in the living room with my best friend and my babies. I will lie there THANKING GOD that He blessed me with way more than I deserve, and I will sleep. Peacefully.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-57807122790829930042009-08-03T14:35:00.000-07:002009-08-03T14:43:08.167-07:00<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"It's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not." ~ Author Unknown</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-73559889902414672222009-08-03T14:16:00.001-07:002009-08-04T11:00:19.449-07:00Living the DreamA few months back a friend from high school asked if I could do any job in the world, what would it be? My answer? Acting. It was as simple as that. I had no idea then that I would now be doing just that. This weekend I lived that dream. The dream I have had since high school, but never felt like I could attain. All day Saturday I was just sick. My stomach was in knots and I couldn't really eat. I had a terrible rehearsal a couple nights before and that set the tone for me. I just knew I would go out and make a fool of myself. I knew that these other women were way more talented than myself. They were funny! I felt that my story was a downer, really. I prayed all day. More than I have prayed for anything in a long time. Friends and family sent texts and encouraged me all day. My husband topped them all though by constantly reminding me that I was here, in this place at this time, for a reason. He told me that I would touch someone who felt alone in their personal struggles after having a baby. He told me how proud he was that I am his wife. One of my cast mates whose husband is an actor told her his advice was to pray right before you go on and that is just what I did. When I walked on the stage I felt good. Like I was meant to be there. Like I DID have a story to share that was real and relevant and would touch lives. It was wonderful and the energy of opening night was indescribable. The more time I spend with these other women (and one very funny man!) who have been brought together to share their own lives with the world - or a least a small part of it - I see that we are creating our own story. We are backstage opening ourselves to one another. We are talking about good times and bad times. We are talking about being mothers, wives, and daughters. This whole experience has exceeded what I could have hoped for. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Now, I just have to keep it going after I leave...</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-6263607720726650032009-07-31T22:38:00.000-07:002009-07-31T22:40:54.211-07:00<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">"Home is not where you live, but where they understand you." ~Christian Morgenstern</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-74534225629627574942009-07-31T22:02:00.001-07:002009-08-04T10:58:51.940-07:00Home Is Where the Heart IsYou know how some things are better left alone? You know how some things are better in your head than in reality? That was the majority of my day today! I picked up my Mom and best friend from their hotel and headed down to Hollywood and Highland where the infamous Hollywood Walk of Fame, Kodak Theater, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Grauman's</span> Chinese Theater are located. Seeing these things was something I had to do. I don't know why. Maybe it comes from reading too many smutty publications and feeling like I could be part of their world that made me want to visit. Or perhaps from watching movies that made me think that even prostitutes can find love with a millionaire real estate investor. I really can't say for sure. But as we arrived in this place which was just mobbed with people I literally wanted to run. I no longer had interest in seeing the star's hands and feet. Nor did I care that somehow, by the grace of GOD, Britney Spears earned a star on the Walk of Fame. We met some friends down on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hollywood</span> Blvd. and began the trek to see all the "cool" stuff. I put my hands where Meryl <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Streep</span> did, hoping a bit of her talent would rub off. We saw <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Shrek</span> walking along with Elvis, Dora, and Batman. I was almost run over by some street vendor selling skates that attach to your shoes. It was just nuts! We were <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">approached</span> with the opportunity to see a live television show be taped. Be part of the "live studio audience". So we had lunch at Mel's Diner on the way then hiked the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">fricking</span> mile to the studio. We got there and were informed the taping took four hours. Four HOURS! We of course could not commit that amount of time in the hellish Hollywood place so we left. Next came a curvy, swirvy trip up the famed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Mullholland</span> Drive. Very cool with lots of amazing views of the Hollywood sign and the valley below. Finally, we culminated the day with my very favorite part...SHOPPING! Not just any shopping though. Shopping on Rodeo Drive! You may wonder if the homemaker wife of an engineer can afford anything on Rodeo Drive and the answer is yes. I got a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">beautiful</span> diamond bracelet from Tiffany's just to celebrate my new found success. Did you believe me? Hope not, because all I got was some perfume from a store called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Oilily</span> at which the only thing I could afford was the perfume! We did enter Tiffany's and dream a bit. We saw <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Bentleys</span>, Jaguars, Rolls <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Royces</span>. We saw people carrying bags and bags of expensive things I cannot even imagine from stores like BCBG, Stuart Weitzman, St. John, Hermes, Gucci, and Yves Saint Laurent - just to name a few. I actually picked out a pair of underwear that was $185 at La Perla. Really? Does anyone need $185 underwaer? NO. And they weren't even all that cute!<br /><br />For the first time on this trip I missed Toledo. I missed people that said hello when you meet their face. I missed feeling like I could drive a car and talk at the same time. I missed knowing my way around. I missed feeling like I was <span style="font-weight: bold;">home</span>, and even though Toledo isn't my first choice, it's home for 3 reasons. Their absence makes this place far from comfortable and far from HOME.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-45573195353623043062009-07-30T16:44:00.000-07:002009-07-31T08:20:17.066-07:00G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-SYesterday culminated with a most amazing journey. Jess and I spiffed up, showed a little cleavage, and took the drive down to Hollywood. We had reservations at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Katsuya</span>. To the mere person this means nothing. Sounds like a regular old sushi joint, right? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ummm</span>....NO! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Katsuya</span> was <span style="font-style: italic;">way</span> more than that. We couldn't take the minivan - very <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">unhip</span>. Jess stole the keys to her husband's Audi and off we went. When you go to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Katsuya</span> you don't park your own vehicle. I think it may even be a mortal sin to do so, therefore valet was the best option. Paparazzi swirled outside of the front doors; watching each car that drove up intently. When I exited the passenger side they appeared so very disappointed. I still stood with my head tall and proud and ACTED as thought I was the shit and that they better recognize. We entered the restaurant and went to the bar as we were waiting on some friends. We ordered a couple beers and I surveyed the room. In all my life I have never been in a place like that. Never. I don't know for a fact there that everyone there was rich or important, but they all sure acted like it! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Katsuya</span> itself is a beautiful place with tons of cool art and tables surrounding a massive sushi bar in the middle. It is THE place for people watching and the food was, dare I say, <span style="font-weight: bold;">orgasmic.</span> Jess's friends were wonderful and lots of fun. We didn't see anyone I recognized, but I still had a great time. At first I really felt like I stuck out. Like people knew I didn't fit in. I am not stick-thin. My clothes are simple and not very expensive. As the evening went on I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">didn</span>'t care. I know I am somebody. I know that I am here to be part of something so cool. WAY COOLER than Heidi and Spencer or Kim <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Kardashian</span>. I know that I will relish in the fact that I do stick out here and that is a good thing.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-71664118340296479462009-07-29T07:03:00.000-07:002009-07-29T07:05:00.989-07:00<span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">"If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?" ~ Milton Berle</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-61303440938743343502009-07-29T06:17:00.000-07:002009-07-29T07:07:37.819-07:00Group TherapyLast night were the rehearsals for <span style="font-weight: bold;">the show</span>. At first, it was quite strange meeting all these women who had simply been names on a computer screen for the last 3 months. We are all ages, coming from very different backgrounds. The cast filed into the Electric Lodge theater at 7pm and took our seats in the audience. The seats are cushioned black folding chairs arranged stadium style on a handmade platform. The entire room is painted black. The "stage" is not a stage, but an extension of the first row as to create a more intimate feel. and that is exactly what it did. Initially, the thought of being so close to the crowd was intimidating, to say the least. Most of the performers have experience in the entertainment industry - I am NOT one of them. We said our hellos, gave scripts to the director, signed waivers, and got the tour of the facility. Once I had heard that I was one of the only ladies having not done something in "the business" I instantly felt tiny. What the hell was I thinking trying to compete with these people? Then we began. The lights dimmed, the music turned up and I decided to stop worrying and just see what happened.<br /><br />I love when a group of women get together and are honest. Real. I had no idea that last night was the one thing above all others that I needed to feel normal again. My piece is on postpartum depression. I have, in recent years, begun sharing my experience more and more . Through therapy I came to understand that talking and sharing is healing. In every woman's piece last night I saw myself. Every story was different, but they all somehow connected with me. I heard about feminism, colic, sick kids, challenged kids, placentas, having a past, getting frustrated, being sad, staying home, splitting time, accidents, sex, and LOVE. I laughed, I cried. I was so scared that I would not possibly be good enough. I was scared that mine was too serious. Too crazy. I was scared that I had no training, no stage presence. When I walked down for my turn I was so nervous. What if they just did not like me? As I began my monologue I began to calm and just tell my story. It was my story and it was all true and I did it. I shared myself with a room of sixteen people and it was freeing. They laughed with me, they felt my sadness. It was the best night of therapy, and besides the flight, wardrobe, and food money it was completely free! Thursday night will be the dress rehearsal and then Saturday is <span style="font-weight: bold;">the</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">day</span>. I am so blessed to be part of this. Touching others, but especially women who maybe have never heard the real shit of motherhood. Maybe there will be a man who thought his wife is the only woman who feels like this. Maybe a single man or woman will see that motherhood is not easy. Maybe someone who never understood their own mom will. Maybe someone will think before they judge a book by its cover. This show needs to go nationwide. Really. We all need to see that moms are gifts from God and that even though moms make mistakes they still need to feel appreciated and need to be able share their stories.ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-23230495236126695292009-07-27T14:06:00.000-07:002009-07-27T14:08:00.659-07:00<span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);">"Troubles are a lot like people - they grow bigger if you nurse them." ~Author Unknown</span>ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8478828391817045083.post-29831869146608637962009-07-27T13:49:00.000-07:002009-07-27T14:05:05.550-07:00Worry SchmurrayGot to L.A. I am staying with my friend Jessica from high <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">school</span> who also happens to be a producer for "Expressing Motherhood." We had dinner shortly after my arrival and then we began preparing for bedtime. During the whole preparing process, she pulled out the hideaway bed and accidentally hit her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tw</span>o year old son right in the head. Blood, screaming, and a visit to the E.R. really got the visit off to an interesting start! Jessica's son is fine, but I must say that it made me feel a whole lot more normal knowing I am not the only mom who's kid needs stitches every now and then!<br /><br />Sort of sad today. The fun of Saturday has finally worn off and I am back to "normal" life. Missing my husband and the kids. Needing sleep, but refusing to stop moving and rest. If I stop, I think. I worry. I STEW. What you may ask do I have to stew about? I am in one of the most beautiful parts of the country, with great people, with an amazing adventure that is continuing as I write. That is the problem. There is nothing. My problem is I worry, I over-analyze, and in the process I <span style="font-weight: bold;">drive myself crazy</span>. I was in counseling for a couple years and I logically know that I can change my thoughts. I have the power to do that. For whatever reason though the last two days my thoughts and worries and guilt have consumed me. Tomorrow will be better. It has to be!ladykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14277869462579895638noreply@blogger.com3