I have promised to blog more but have so much to update that I don't really know where to start. I guess this post will start with the boys. With that out of the way, hopefully I will be more motivated to tackle the other stuff. Okay.
Izaiah has been in a children's psychiatric hospital for almost 11 weeks now. I struggle with sharing the "psychiatric" part of the name because I feel like so many harsh judgments come with that. He began to get too strong for us, and even with Mark staying home during the day to be "on call" we were all so exhausted and unable to keep up with his special needs. He got very violent at one point and the police had to be dispatched.
I am sharing this because it is real and because I believe in being genuine and humble. It is my biggest prayer that God will take all of this craziness in our lives and with our family and completely flip it for His glory in the future. In the meantime, I don't want to get accustomed to hiding behind secrets, even if it makes me feel vulnerable.
We could not keep Izaiah safe anymore. He was too big, too smart, too strong, had too much endurance, etc. We made one of the hardest decisions we have yet to make and admitted him to Hawthorne. We have since been on an emotional roller coaster. We get to see him two nights a week and on weekends for a few hours. He has been very clingy, very emotional, very angry, apologetic, tough, brave, loving, hateful, kind, etc. all depending on the day. It has been really hard to leave him each time. We have family therapy with him each week and have made some pretty big process. "Pretty big process", though, still seems like a tiny drop in the bucket. The doctors have been weaning him off most of his medications, and now we are at the point of finding which ones need to be added and which ones are unnecessary. Once a medication is added, we have to begin at a small dose and wait 2-4 weeks to see how it affects him. They can then begin increasing the dosage very slowly. If the medication does not work well with his body, we have to wean him off it and start over with a new medication. The whole process has been so slow. It has been crushing, watching other people parenting your child, and having to leave him day after day after day. We are pressing on, though, because we want to get this all figured out in hopes that he will not have to be hospitalized again for a long time.
Normally Dre is the easy one, but as soon as Izaiah left he made a string of very bad choices. His judge told him to straighten up or he would send him to a residential facility for the summer. Dre said he wanted to move out anyway, so fast forward a few weeks and the judge ordered him to go to residential. He has been there for 2 1/2 weeks. He is so mad at us and says he will never come home. I'm sure it is a very hard thing to be loved so unconditionally by an entire family after feeling so rejected by the first one. He is self sabotaging and it is so sad. Dre is, by nature, a good kid. A genuinely good kid. He has to work hard to get bad grades and to make bad choices. Mark is having a really hard time with him being gone. I am, as well, but am not as much of a basket case I thought I would be. I see this as a time for Dre to understand what it is really like to be without us. He thinks we are so strict and all up in his life, and of course he does - he's a teenager. Please pray for him. I'm trying to tough it out and not go visit him, as he requested.
While having the boys out of the house is maybe the best thing for right now, it is very difficult to be without them. As parents, Mark and I feel so helpless and inadequate. We are trying to trust God with it and not rely on medication and our own knowledge. I feel contradictory, though, because we are relying on medication and trying all kinds of different parenting method. It's like, at what point do you stop asking God for food and just go find a job? I don't think there is anything wrong with being proactive like that, but we are trying to get in the habit of seeking God's wisdom first. Please pray for us while we try to not be backseat drivers.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Saturday, March 12, 2011
The Adventure of Finding a Church
We have been looking for a church home for about how many years now? I think about 5, maybe more. We've been to them all and seen them all, and I'm far too jaded and liberal to join one. I should start a blog on the adventures of being raised in the church of Christ. That, my friends, would be a very interesting read. Romance, drama, crime, death, scandal, abuse...it would meet all the criteria for a best-seller.
Anyways, so we went to this church a few months back. We had been there several times a few years ago and really liked it. I, however, was not in a good place at the time, and as much as I wanted to find a church family, I also wanted to distance myself from anything that could hurt me. I had emailed with the pastor about his thoughts on sexual abuse and the church, and how their church prevents that from happening, yada yada. It probably was not a particularly nice exchange of emails, as I was going through an irrational time in my life. This church ended up moving locations and was now pretty close to us. My New Year's Resolution was to find a church, so off we went.
The sermon (which I would normally care very little about) spoke straight to me. I honestly don't even remember what was said, just that it felt as if God was speaking directly to me. The worship was awesome, and Mark and I both felt the Holy Spirit in that place, which is a rare occurrence these days. They were talking about small groups, and everyone was signing up for one that day. I flipped through the bulletin (is there a more modern name for this nowadays?) and saw that there was a small group meeting in our neighborhood. It's a sign! So before I could change my mind, I rushed over to the information table to get more information. As I looked at the sign-up sheet for the small group in our neighborhood, I saw that it was being held in a home on our street, one block over. AND there was childcare provided.
Okay, now I knew it was a sign. I was so excited, so I started signing us up. There was a man behind the table and he asked what I was doing. I was so smiley and excited and I said, ''I'm signing up for a group!"
"I see that. But you are putting several names on one line."
"Yeah, I'm putting my family's names down, too."
"But you can't do that. There is not enough room. You cannot save spaces for other people. This is a popular group and it is almost full."
"Well I am putting my husband and kids' names down. Can't I do that?"
"You would need to put one name per line. How many of you are there."
"Four. Me, my husband, and two boys."
"Ma'am, there are only three spots left. I'm sorry, but this group is full."
"So I can't sign up even though my boys will technically not be part of the group?"
"Look, you need to erase your name and start over."
This man was getting so frustrated with me, and I couldn't understand why. I scratched out our names, and he got even more frustrated. Now lets back up. It took all the guts I could muster just to walk into this building and stay through the entire thing, then to come over and try to sign up for a group, and now I am getting the third degree from you because why?!
So I politely said, "Nevermind. Thank you for your help," and walked away while he continued to call after me, still frustrated. I spotted the boys and grabbed them to make a beeline for the exit. Then...
"Hey, do I know you guys?"
Crap. It's the pastor himself.
First time here, Mark tells him.
"Except for when we came several times 5 years ago." I just had to open my big mouth. "I emailed you a bunch back then."
"Oh. Um, okay. Well, I get a lot of emails."
"It was about sexual abuse. In the church. Pretty messed up." This is why I am supposed to keep my mouth shut when we check out churches. I sound like a freak.
"Okay. Ummm..."
"I was probably pretty rude. I don't remember. Bad time in my life. Sorry about that. Anyways..."
And then the pastor proceeded to refer me to a counselor who he thought I could probably really benefit from seeing. No kidding.
So the next day, the pastor calls me unexpectedly and awkwardly tells me that some people were upset about a possible misunderstanding at the small group booth yesterday. He said that we can join the group, and it is actually the one he is leading. Not to mention, the man behind the booth was his FATHER!!! I apologized and tried to explain why I changed my mind about joining the group, but of course it came out weird and at one point I blurted something about being pretty messed up. WHAT?! After some awkward silence, the pastor tells me he should probably just call my husband and talk to him. For the love, has this ever happened to you? I felt like the guy from Meet the Parents, where he just keeps saying the wrong thing. I'm really not as weird as I sound sometimes, just awkward.
We have been going to the church for several weeks now. Izaiah really likes it, and the teachers that work with him in children's church have been really great. Mark has given me the lecture about not building up my walls, so I'm trying reeeaallly hard. I will blog about updates. It is a very interesting experience, finding a church. I turn into this weird, awkward, hardened person at church. I hate it. We are not looking for religion, or a place that thinks like us, looks like us, or places any emphasis on wealth, healthy, prosperity, or hell, fire, and brimstone. We ARE, however, looking for a place where we can live in community with others and do life together. We want to find people who are authentic, and who we can be vulnerable with, and who love Jesus and not religion. Hopefully we have found it. We're not looking for perfect. We're looking for Real.
Pray for our journey to finding the right place for us. We have friends we do "church" with (for when two or more are gathered in His name...) but would really like to connect on a deeper level with those who are seeking God's heart. We want our boys to have good role models that exist outside of my family. We are desperate for a safe place for them, and for us.
I keep listening to this song, and the words stick out so boldly to me....
Anyways, so we went to this church a few months back. We had been there several times a few years ago and really liked it. I, however, was not in a good place at the time, and as much as I wanted to find a church family, I also wanted to distance myself from anything that could hurt me. I had emailed with the pastor about his thoughts on sexual abuse and the church, and how their church prevents that from happening, yada yada. It probably was not a particularly nice exchange of emails, as I was going through an irrational time in my life. This church ended up moving locations and was now pretty close to us. My New Year's Resolution was to find a church, so off we went.
The sermon (which I would normally care very little about) spoke straight to me. I honestly don't even remember what was said, just that it felt as if God was speaking directly to me. The worship was awesome, and Mark and I both felt the Holy Spirit in that place, which is a rare occurrence these days. They were talking about small groups, and everyone was signing up for one that day. I flipped through the bulletin (is there a more modern name for this nowadays?) and saw that there was a small group meeting in our neighborhood. It's a sign! So before I could change my mind, I rushed over to the information table to get more information. As I looked at the sign-up sheet for the small group in our neighborhood, I saw that it was being held in a home on our street, one block over. AND there was childcare provided.
Okay, now I knew it was a sign. I was so excited, so I started signing us up. There was a man behind the table and he asked what I was doing. I was so smiley and excited and I said, ''I'm signing up for a group!"
"I see that. But you are putting several names on one line."
"Yeah, I'm putting my family's names down, too."
"But you can't do that. There is not enough room. You cannot save spaces for other people. This is a popular group and it is almost full."
"Well I am putting my husband and kids' names down. Can't I do that?"
"You would need to put one name per line. How many of you are there."
"Four. Me, my husband, and two boys."
"Ma'am, there are only three spots left. I'm sorry, but this group is full."
"So I can't sign up even though my boys will technically not be part of the group?"
"Look, you need to erase your name and start over."
This man was getting so frustrated with me, and I couldn't understand why. I scratched out our names, and he got even more frustrated. Now lets back up. It took all the guts I could muster just to walk into this building and stay through the entire thing, then to come over and try to sign up for a group, and now I am getting the third degree from you because why?!
So I politely said, "Nevermind. Thank you for your help," and walked away while he continued to call after me, still frustrated. I spotted the boys and grabbed them to make a beeline for the exit. Then...
"Hey, do I know you guys?"
Crap. It's the pastor himself.
First time here, Mark tells him.
"Except for when we came several times 5 years ago." I just had to open my big mouth. "I emailed you a bunch back then."
"Oh. Um, okay. Well, I get a lot of emails."
"It was about sexual abuse. In the church. Pretty messed up." This is why I am supposed to keep my mouth shut when we check out churches. I sound like a freak.
"Okay. Ummm..."
"I was probably pretty rude. I don't remember. Bad time in my life. Sorry about that. Anyways..."
And then the pastor proceeded to refer me to a counselor who he thought I could probably really benefit from seeing. No kidding.
So the next day, the pastor calls me unexpectedly and awkwardly tells me that some people were upset about a possible misunderstanding at the small group booth yesterday. He said that we can join the group, and it is actually the one he is leading. Not to mention, the man behind the booth was his FATHER!!! I apologized and tried to explain why I changed my mind about joining the group, but of course it came out weird and at one point I blurted something about being pretty messed up. WHAT?! After some awkward silence, the pastor tells me he should probably just call my husband and talk to him. For the love, has this ever happened to you? I felt like the guy from Meet the Parents, where he just keeps saying the wrong thing. I'm really not as weird as I sound sometimes, just awkward.
We have been going to the church for several weeks now. Izaiah really likes it, and the teachers that work with him in children's church have been really great. Mark has given me the lecture about not building up my walls, so I'm trying reeeaallly hard. I will blog about updates. It is a very interesting experience, finding a church. I turn into this weird, awkward, hardened person at church. I hate it. We are not looking for religion, or a place that thinks like us, looks like us, or places any emphasis on wealth, healthy, prosperity, or hell, fire, and brimstone. We ARE, however, looking for a place where we can live in community with others and do life together. We want to find people who are authentic, and who we can be vulnerable with, and who love Jesus and not religion. Hopefully we have found it. We're not looking for perfect. We're looking for Real.
Pray for our journey to finding the right place for us. We have friends we do "church" with (for when two or more are gathered in His name...) but would really like to connect on a deeper level with those who are seeking God's heart. We want our boys to have good role models that exist outside of my family. We are desperate for a safe place for them, and for us.
I keep listening to this song, and the words stick out so boldly to me....
And though my innocence was taken
not everything is lost,
not eveything is lost.
Your love is enough to light up the darkness
It's Your love, Your love
All I ever needed is Your love
I'm so ready to live like I believed this were true. Breaking down the walls, boldly stepping into the light unafraid,
Moving forward....
Monday, February 14, 2011
Hospitalization, Take 2
It has been a long month. Izaiah, my sweet baby Izaiah, was having such a hard time. His aggression was escalating and he was having tantrums several times a day. Tantrums, for Izaiah, look like this: punching, kicking, biting, screaming, cursing, and coming at you like a rabid dog. This might have been manageable, except for the fact that Izaiah is stronger and more agile than a ninja. No exaggeration. And at some point he became stronger than us. It would take me, Mark, and Dre working together to get him off of me. He would throw things and shatter glass, without any regard as to how it could harm him, and at the drop of a hat, he would use whatever happened to be in his line of sight as a weapon. If he would become angry in the car, we’d just better hope we could pull over quickly because he would start attacking whomever was driving or start throwing objects at them.
It got to the point where he started doing it at school, too. When he didn’t get his way one day, he attacked the principal, punched her in the face, kicked her several times in the face, knocked over a bookshelf in her office, broke things on her desk, and then tried to run out of the building, so they had to call a Code Red. It took 4 teachers holding him and he still managed to get away. He got suspended for a day…his very first suspension, can you believe it? Every waking moment he would be screaming and running around. And not like a typical hyper boy, but like a kid that’s on fire. He’s been like this many times before, but this time he is bigger.
His doctor had him on meds that were a last resort. He had tried a combination of everything before. The only option left was to admit him to a psych unit and start over in finding a medication that would work for him. We have sworn on everything that we would not hospitalize him again after what happened the last time. It was never an option in our minds. His therapist saw him and made a good point, though. She said that if he seriously harmed someone, that would be much more traumatic for him in the long run than being hospitalized for a few weeks. We were deathly afraid of him hurting us, himself, or someone else and knew that would be the inevitable outcome if things continued the way they had been going.
We cried all night long once we decided to admit him the next day. We took him to the E.R. at Children’s and were there for 13 hours. They finally found a place for him, but it was at St. Vincent DePaul, and I did not know much about them. I threw a mom fit, and refused to allow him to go anywhere but two places I was familiar with. We asked if Mark could stay with him, at least during the day.
No.
We asked if we could drive him there.
No. They thought he needed to be transported by ambulance since he was such a safety risk.
He was admitted on a Tuesday evening, and we were told we could expect him to be there close to a month. I was literally sick over it. We were allowed to see him for 30 minutes a day, between 6 and 7 in the evening. Dre was not allowed to come since he’s under 18. Izaiah was so mad at us that first night. We held him and prayed, and he finally fell asleep on Mark. We never missed a night, but it was so hard seeing him. Little kids should never have to stay in this type of setting without their mommy, never never never.
The nurses were great, and were so patient when we would call six times a shift to check on him. A classmate of mine from grad school was the social worker on Izaiah’s unit, come to find out, which definitely eased our minds some. After ten days, the psychiatrist discharged him with a new cocktail of meds. He has been home for a week and a half now. Initially he did really well, but he has really struggled at times, almost to the point where we have contemplated re-admitting him. This is the hardest thing in the world for a parent. I feel like an awful mother, and the rational side of me cannot be convinced that I have not failed. He is the most precious thing in the world to me, and I love him with the love of a thousand Mother Teresa’s, but I am also so terrified of him. Please please please be praying for us. Particularly for strength for Mark and I, and for peace and rest and comfort for my baby Izaiah.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Too Much Thinking!
I'm up late and struggling with forgiveness. This is nothing new. I have come so far with it, and yet feel like I have millions of miles to go. I badly wish not to be hypocritical or inauthentic, yet try as I might I cannot get over things of the past like it seems everyone else in this world can. It's this heavy set of bricks on my chest, and currently the bricks are wet.
Fear. I try so hard to elude it. Fear controls my life if I let it. I really don't want to let it. How do you keep yourself and your family safe from potential pain or harm if you fully forgive, and forgive without another's repentance?
I try to remember that people were horrible to Jesus, too. Horrible. Mean, selfish, unforgiving. Liars. Jesus's mission was not to expose them, as mine would have been. He loved them regardless. He was not consumed when people spoke hateful things about him, when he suffered the consequences of others' untruth. Believe it or not, I try soooooooo hard to model that, and am very sadly unsuccessful most times. I would like to get to a place where I am content in not making everyone aware of the pain I have seen and experienced. It is just this huge sense of responsibility to justice that I feel. I feel that if I do not use my experiences for change, in whatever form, the experience is worthless, and I am a victim. I am learning how to live happily despite constant reminders of nightmares I have lived through. What a journey! Bear with me. I, too, am imperfect, just trying to find my way to God's heart.
Fear. I try so hard to elude it. Fear controls my life if I let it. I really don't want to let it. How do you keep yourself and your family safe from potential pain or harm if you fully forgive, and forgive without another's repentance?
I try to remember that people were horrible to Jesus, too. Horrible. Mean, selfish, unforgiving. Liars. Jesus's mission was not to expose them, as mine would have been. He loved them regardless. He was not consumed when people spoke hateful things about him, when he suffered the consequences of others' untruth. Believe it or not, I try soooooooo hard to model that, and am very sadly unsuccessful most times. I would like to get to a place where I am content in not making everyone aware of the pain I have seen and experienced. It is just this huge sense of responsibility to justice that I feel. I feel that if I do not use my experiences for change, in whatever form, the experience is worthless, and I am a victim. I am learning how to live happily despite constant reminders of nightmares I have lived through. What a journey! Bear with me. I, too, am imperfect, just trying to find my way to God's heart.
Christmas
We spent Christmas in Arkansas spending time with my family. Izaiah had a blast, as did Dre! We did a whole lot of nothing, which is very nice, I must admit. Ezra stayed for an extended visit. She and Izaiah are not meshing well, and we need a break!
I am going back on my diet, and will surely amaze you with how much I whittle down these next months. I lost 35 pounds last year, and am determined to lose another 20. It wasn't that hard the first time, so I don't expect it to be this time, either. Mark promised that if I make it to my goal weight, he will take me on a lavish vacation. Sweet! Right now New York is topping my list. If we weren't already so settled, we would move to the east coast in a heartbeat.
I would like to share an excerpt from a book I have been reading. It fits with my view of Jesus:
He was like nothing anyone had ever seen.
Among a people that smugly shunned
the sick and ill,
Jesus stopped,
looked beggars in the eyes,
touched lepers,
and brought dignity to the helpless and alone.
Jesus walked..
Jesus was a man with dirty feet.
As Jesus led his twelve closest followers
they would walk along the dirt roads together.
They went to parties together.
They ate meals together.
They worked together.
Jesus walked as a human among humans,
brushed elbows with politicians and outcasts,
went to parties with
sinners and criminals,
and embraced as his own family
those he met on the street.
Jesus floated on no pristine clouds.
Jesus was no aloof elitist.
Jesus was no odd hermit.
He preferred the world of
dirt and friends and handshakes.
He embraced this relational life on earth
more passionately than anyone ever had.
I am going back on my diet, and will surely amaze you with how much I whittle down these next months. I lost 35 pounds last year, and am determined to lose another 20. It wasn't that hard the first time, so I don't expect it to be this time, either. Mark promised that if I make it to my goal weight, he will take me on a lavish vacation. Sweet! Right now New York is topping my list. If we weren't already so settled, we would move to the east coast in a heartbeat.
I would like to share an excerpt from a book I have been reading. It fits with my view of Jesus:
He was like nothing anyone had ever seen.
Among a people that smugly shunned
the sick and ill,
Jesus stopped,
looked beggars in the eyes,
touched lepers,
and brought dignity to the helpless and alone.
Jesus walked..
Jesus was a man with dirty feet.
As Jesus led his twelve closest followers
they would walk along the dirt roads together.
They went to parties together.
They ate meals together.
They worked together.
Jesus walked as a human among humans,
brushed elbows with politicians and outcasts,
went to parties with
sinners and criminals,
and embraced as his own family
those he met on the street.
Jesus floated on no pristine clouds.
Jesus was no aloof elitist.
Jesus was no odd hermit.
He preferred the world of
dirt and friends and handshakes.
He embraced this relational life on earth
more passionately than anyone ever had.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
A Very Crafty Christmas
My family decided to make gifts for everyone this year instead of buying. Great idea, right? You save money, and people end up with gifts that took time, thought, and effort and will be cherished forever!
The Fitzgerald house has seemed anything but jolly this weekend as we teamed up to make each other's gifts. First off, being crafty actually does cost money, almost just as much as buying a gift. Secondly, the craft never looks half as good as the picture. And thirdly, Izaiah. Enough said.
Moral of the story: Some people are meant to make gifts, and some people are meant to buy them!!!
The one success of the weekend was actually mine, the most uncrafty person ever, and check them out!
They are Rice Krispie Treats with sprinkles and Rolo's! These aren't actually the ones I made, but the ones I copied from the picture. I was too lazy to take pictures of my own, but I swear mine look just like these!
Merry Christmas, our wonderful friends! May the season fill you all with joy, love, and peace!
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Catching Up
DeAndre moved in with us in September!!!! He is such a joy. We love him being here. Love is quite the understatement. He and Izaiah have a bond that cannot be described. I found myself loving DeAndre with such an intensity that it was shocking. I think it is called motherhood. The moment I saw him for the first time, I was so taken aback with just how much I loved him. It was as if my heart, without my mind's knowledge, finally found something it had been searching and searching for.
DeAndre has been visiting with his father about once a week. The goal is for him to move in with him eventually. Please pray about that, that that will only happen if it is what is best for Dre. Please also pray for me; that I will stop being a basketcase about it.
Izaiah's other set of grandparents recently decided they would like to have a relationship with him, so we are very happy about that. Izaiah loves them so much, which I think has been sort of the redeeming quality of the whole situation.
Our back wall of our house finally collapsed. Insurance said they will not pay for it. We were able to get part of it fixed, but will probably be in debt the rest of our lives. Ha! I wish I could laugh at this situation already.
Still looking for a church. It's frustrating to feel like you're at church at the Gap, or at a funeral, or a political pep rally. I don't get organized religion. The most horrible people I have ever known or known of have been big participants in it. It's a struggle trying to teach the boys about Jesus while still protecting them from church people. If you are a church person, please understand that I don't mean to be offensive. If your actions are in line with your beliefs, you love Jesus, and are humble, kind, and loving then I am obviously not talking about you.
We are adjusting to Mark being a stay-at-home Dad. We love it most days! It is definitely a sacrifice, but our family couldn't function without one of us being home. An organization bought some gifts for the boys and gave us a laundry basket full of cookies, toilet paper, paper towels, trash bags, etc. I cried at the thoughtfulness of such a simple gift. It's a good lesson to be the recipient of "charity". Definitely humbling. Definitely restores some of your faith in mankind.
I am loving my work, as usual. I love how hard it is, and how much it challenges me. I love my clients and all the ways they teach me. As stressful as it is, I never have a dull day!
Izaiah is doing great in Kindergarten! It is so cool to watch him want to do homework and sing little songs he learned. He is so precious. Dre and I ran into Izaiah's siblings' father at the mall. Wow. We found out they live very close, so we all went over the next day. It was soooo great to reunite the kids, but that might be something we will deal with later. Sorry I haven't posted in forever. Here are pictures from the last 5 months.
DeAndre has been visiting with his father about once a week. The goal is for him to move in with him eventually. Please pray about that, that that will only happen if it is what is best for Dre. Please also pray for me; that I will stop being a basketcase about it.
Izaiah's other set of grandparents recently decided they would like to have a relationship with him, so we are very happy about that. Izaiah loves them so much, which I think has been sort of the redeeming quality of the whole situation.
Our back wall of our house finally collapsed. Insurance said they will not pay for it. We were able to get part of it fixed, but will probably be in debt the rest of our lives. Ha! I wish I could laugh at this situation already.
Still looking for a church. It's frustrating to feel like you're at church at the Gap, or at a funeral, or a political pep rally. I don't get organized religion. The most horrible people I have ever known or known of have been big participants in it. It's a struggle trying to teach the boys about Jesus while still protecting them from church people. If you are a church person, please understand that I don't mean to be offensive. If your actions are in line with your beliefs, you love Jesus, and are humble, kind, and loving then I am obviously not talking about you.
We are adjusting to Mark being a stay-at-home Dad. We love it most days! It is definitely a sacrifice, but our family couldn't function without one of us being home. An organization bought some gifts for the boys and gave us a laundry basket full of cookies, toilet paper, paper towels, trash bags, etc. I cried at the thoughtfulness of such a simple gift. It's a good lesson to be the recipient of "charity". Definitely humbling. Definitely restores some of your faith in mankind.
I am loving my work, as usual. I love how hard it is, and how much it challenges me. I love my clients and all the ways they teach me. As stressful as it is, I never have a dull day!
Izaiah is doing great in Kindergarten! It is so cool to watch him want to do homework and sing little songs he learned. He is so precious. Dre and I ran into Izaiah's siblings' father at the mall. Wow. We found out they live very close, so we all went over the next day. It was soooo great to reunite the kids, but that might be something we will deal with later. Sorry I haven't posted in forever. Here are pictures from the last 5 months.
Don't be fooled....
This is much more typical :)
Izaiah and Aunt Hannah on a date
Izaiah and his brother, Dominic
Izaiah and his sister, Sierra
Meeting Baby Morgan for the first time!
Aniyah wasn't thrilled about sharing her stroller at the zoo. Who can blame her?
My amazing friend, Shanana :)
Beautiful Shana and her amazing wedding dress!
The boys - and Ezra- on Halloween
Aniyah thought Dre looked funny
We love each other and our crazy life!
My precious boys
Sunday, August 29, 2010
A Fresh Start
Izaiah started back to school! He had a great summer at Karate Camp working on his karate, tumbling, Hip Hop, and Zumba. I need to post a video.
We decided to have Izaiah repeat Kindergarten since last year was soooo crazy and he struggled so much. His new teacher is Ms. Heaney, and we love her so far! Izaiah has been doing soooooo well, and has brought home smiley faces every day! :) There seems to be a lot more structure and consistency, not to mention I think he is surrounded by better attitudes during the day. We also have a new principal this year. We will definitely miss Ms. Krekeler, but we are hopeful that Ms. Wuch will be great, too.
With the seemingly dark cloud of drama following us, Mark and I decided that it is just physically impossible to both have full time jobs. His boss was very demanding and his job stopped being one in which he felt appreciated and respected by upper management. Life just kept piling up, as did the stress level. Finally, we made the decision for Mark to be a stay-at-home Dad. This is what he has always dreamed of. Not real sure how we are going to make this work, but we believe it is an investment in our family. Now we can spend weekends together, not frantically trying to get the house clean, lawn and garden tended to, laundry done, and errands run. It no longer feels like such a rat race.
Turned out to be a very good thing, as Izaiah's school nurse again refuses to give him his medicine. AGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! So Mark has been going up to school at 2:30 to give it to him. We are trying to figure out what is next for our family. So much, so much. New state, new kids, new career, foster care? We're open to it all and are currently taking suggestions.
My little Ninja
We decided to have Izaiah repeat Kindergarten since last year was soooo crazy and he struggled so much. His new teacher is Ms. Heaney, and we love her so far! Izaiah has been doing soooooo well, and has brought home smiley faces every day! :) There seems to be a lot more structure and consistency, not to mention I think he is surrounded by better attitudes during the day. We also have a new principal this year. We will definitely miss Ms. Krekeler, but we are hopeful that Ms. Wuch will be great, too.
With the seemingly dark cloud of drama following us, Mark and I decided that it is just physically impossible to both have full time jobs. His boss was very demanding and his job stopped being one in which he felt appreciated and respected by upper management. Life just kept piling up, as did the stress level. Finally, we made the decision for Mark to be a stay-at-home Dad. This is what he has always dreamed of. Not real sure how we are going to make this work, but we believe it is an investment in our family. Now we can spend weekends together, not frantically trying to get the house clean, lawn and garden tended to, laundry done, and errands run. It no longer feels like such a rat race.
Turned out to be a very good thing, as Izaiah's school nurse again refuses to give him his medicine. AGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! So Mark has been going up to school at 2:30 to give it to him. We are trying to figure out what is next for our family. So much, so much. New state, new kids, new career, foster care? We're open to it all and are currently taking suggestions.
Leaving for the first day of Kindergarten (Take 2...)
My two boys.
I love them :)
BRANSON
To be clear, there is not much in this post about actual Branson itself. Rather, what happened during the week we were supposed to be in Branson. Here are the chain of events.
Wednesday morning we awoke to leave for Branson. About the time we woke up, a woman was found dead right behind our back fence. Helicopters and police cars were everywhere. They ruled it a homicide. DeAndre had been sleeping in Hannah's room, with a view of everything. Thank God he slept through it all and didn't see anything.
Did we know her?
Was she taking a morning jog?
Was she leaving for work?
Do they have a suspect?
How did she die?
These were all questions we did not get answered before we left later that morning.
We got to Branson, and it was Mark, Izaiah, DeAndre, and me plus my parents and siblings. Our condo was awesome! We tried to relax for the next 24 hours. Then our next door neighbor called to tell us our house was broken into and trashed.
Great.
So early the next morning, off Mark and I went to go deal with that mess. Not only did they take TONS of stuff, but they also trashed the place. They cut things up with our butcher knives, and they took our food out of the fridge and freezer and left it all over the place. Thankfully they did not take Ezra. She watched the whole thing from her kennel. Also to be thankful for, our neighbor caught them in the middle of looting, so they didn't get to take everything they planned to, one of which I am sure would have been the puppy. We took Ezra to a co-worker's house and tried to clean and work things out with the insurance company and police. Details details.
The next morning, back to Branson we went. We were so tired. The next day we came home to our pillaged house. They took our TV, DVD player, Computer, several game systems, toaster, smoothie maker, can opener (?), cash, all our car, house, and work keys (including all spares), and even our alarm remote and code. We couldn't get into Mark's car, and had to have it towed to get a new key made. Not quite the vacation we were needing. We are learning over and over that material things do not matter. People matter. Love matters. Goodness matters. Kindness matters. We are still figuring out the things that the thieves took. If it is taking us weeks to figure out what they stole, then my view is that we had wayyyy more than we needed anyways. We are sosososo very blessed. The autopsy report showed that the woman found dead died of a drug overdose. Still very sad, but definitely reassuring that there is not some crazed killer roaming our neighborhood. Oh life! Why are you so stressful?!
Wednesday morning we awoke to leave for Branson. About the time we woke up, a woman was found dead right behind our back fence. Helicopters and police cars were everywhere. They ruled it a homicide. DeAndre had been sleeping in Hannah's room, with a view of everything. Thank God he slept through it all and didn't see anything.
Did we know her?
Was she taking a morning jog?
Was she leaving for work?
Do they have a suspect?
How did she die?
These were all questions we did not get answered before we left later that morning.
We got to Branson, and it was Mark, Izaiah, DeAndre, and me plus my parents and siblings. Our condo was awesome! We tried to relax for the next 24 hours. Then our next door neighbor called to tell us our house was broken into and trashed.
Great.
So early the next morning, off Mark and I went to go deal with that mess. Not only did they take TONS of stuff, but they also trashed the place. They cut things up with our butcher knives, and they took our food out of the fridge and freezer and left it all over the place. Thankfully they did not take Ezra. She watched the whole thing from her kennel. Also to be thankful for, our neighbor caught them in the middle of looting, so they didn't get to take everything they planned to, one of which I am sure would have been the puppy. We took Ezra to a co-worker's house and tried to clean and work things out with the insurance company and police. Details details.
The next morning, back to Branson we went. We were so tired. The next day we came home to our pillaged house. They took our TV, DVD player, Computer, several game systems, toaster, smoothie maker, can opener (?), cash, all our car, house, and work keys (including all spares), and even our alarm remote and code. We couldn't get into Mark's car, and had to have it towed to get a new key made. Not quite the vacation we were needing. We are learning over and over that material things do not matter. People matter. Love matters. Goodness matters. Kindness matters. We are still figuring out the things that the thieves took. If it is taking us weeks to figure out what they stole, then my view is that we had wayyyy more than we needed anyways. We are sosososo very blessed. The autopsy report showed that the woman found dead died of a drug overdose. Still very sad, but definitely reassuring that there is not some crazed killer roaming our neighborhood. Oh life! Why are you so stressful?!
Eating yummy sundae's at our family friend's restaurant, Mel's Hard Luck Diner!
Thanks Mel!
Of course we stopped at St. James Winery on the way back from dealing with our ransacked house. A little stress relief in the form of Red Velvet Goodness! Mmmm!
We're a grumpy family when we have to wait 45 for a table
(Please take notice of my mother's hair! ha!)
Izaiah LOVES his baby Aniyah :)
Keith came for a visit and bonded with Izaiah
And for your random picture of the day, yes, I was really holding this tarantula. I kissed it, too.
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