Granny and I finished my daughter's life book earlier this week. Her life book describes how she was adopted and became a part of our eternal family. Her book describes Dad and I getting married in the temple, adopting her brother, and having more love for another child. Then, how she came to us and was sealed in the temple and received a baby blessing. Granny had a chance to read it to her a couple of times before leaving town, and we've read it to her at least once.
So today, she hasn't been listening, and has been in a little bit of trouble today. Our family had a fun day, but we were very ready for it to be bedtime tonight. She gave me a kiss and hug, then started to walk away.
As she did, she put her hand on the bed post and very slowly said, "I was born, so I could go to the temple with you."
"What was that?"
She looks at me with a smile and with more confidence says, "I was born, so I could go to the temple with you. And you are a princess."
"Come here ... come here." As I held her on my lap, "I am very glad you were born."
"Yeah." (with a smile)
"And I think you're pretty wonderful."
"Yeah." (more smiles)
And before she escapes, "And even when I'm angry because you're disobedient, I will ALWAYS love you."
"Can I go now?"
"Yep, go to bed."
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
They Say the Darndest Things!
So today was jam packed!
- U6 Soccer Game
- Family Day at my office -- open house for employees to show their families around
- Fontana Library -- We have a 1st grade paper, presentation, and poster on the Opossum due November 9th. What a beautiful library!!!
- Target -- original intent was birthday present shopping & bike helmets, but also picked up Thanksgiving decor, Halloween on clearance, and some Christmas shirts
- Shakey's for a little friend's birthday party
Remember, she's now 2.5 years old and he's 6 years old.
In the course of the day,
@1. She called out, "Mommy, move your bum!!" (She was sitting in my chair, while I jumped and paced at the edge of the soccer field.)
@1. I told him he might have to get muddy playing goalie, but don't worry, I brought a change of clothes. He said, "I'm not watching the mud, I'm watching the ball!!" GOOD KID.
@2. She spotted the filtered water faucet, like ours at home. She exclaimed, "THAT'S FOR BABY FEEDERS!!"
@2. "Kids, see Mommy's magnet collection?" Mistake. Commented to a co-worker, "Notice how I have all of those in just the right spot." Response, "Yep, and Monday we'll see you putting them all back." .....
"Hey kids, this is my space!" .........
"Okay, time to go." ..........
He says, "But we have to clean up." Me, "Don't worry I'll do it later."
@2. He pointed at a picture I took of the ocean, now hanging in my office, "Is that the ocean I almost drowned in?" "No, you almost drowned in the our bathtub, not in the ocean."
@2. "Kids, see Mommy's magnet collection?" Mistake. Commented to a co-worker, "Notice how I have all of those in just the right spot." Response, "Yep, and Monday we'll see you putting them all back." .....
"Hey kids, this is my space!" .........
"Okay, time to go." ..........
He says, "But we have to clean up." Me, "Don't worry I'll do it later."
@2. He pointed at a picture I took of the ocean, now hanging in my office, "Is that the ocean I almost drowned in?" "No, you almost drowned in the our bathtub, not in the ocean."
@3. As the elevator moved, she sighed, "I did it!" (She's had this issue with elevators.)
@3. Yesterday, after school we headed to the "LI-BERRY". He's asleep, she's chattering. "Is that the li-berry? Is this the li-berry? Is that the li-berry?" "Sweetie, we have a long drive I will show you the library." Well, the library was closed when we got there. YOU WOULD HAVE THOUGHT SOMEONE HAD STOLEN HER DOLLY!!! She REALLY took those locked doors personally. Glad we made it there today.
@3. Mom and Dad read childrens' stories to each other while our children played a computer game (its okay, they don't get any at home). And for the first time, I actually considered buying an iPad for them.
@3. They have children's restrooms with small kid-size toilets -- THANK YOU (But adult-sized sinks, I still had to sit my 2 yr old on the sink to wash her hands). My 6 yr old thought the toilets were too small. He exclaim with disgust, "Why do librarians have to have such small toilets?????"
@3. "Oooo, that's a scary book." He was pointing at a book in the children's section titled, Zombies in America. Great! Remind me to bring the blindfolds to the library next time.
@4. Bike helmets. Well, let's just say that we have now PROVEN that both our children have large heads.
@4. Which bike helmet does she want? The kitty. No, Dora the Explorer. No, the boys one. No, the princesses. NOT the Minnie Mouse one. I WANT DORA!
@4. In the gift bag aisle, he says, "Where does this go? Shouldn't we put it back?" Mom, "I didn't get it down. I do not want to clean up the whole store!" "Okay, but I'm going to put it here, because I WANT to clean up the whole store." (Unfortunately, this is a result of nurture, not nature. I have no one to blame but myself.)
@5. An older, baby-sitting friend offered to take her to play the arcade games. I said she had to wait. Man! I got the lowered eyebrow, "MOTHER!" look. Fine, go! Mercy! I give! You DID eat more vegetables than your brother.
@5. She pointed at the drain in the bathroom floor, "There's fishies down there!"
@Home Again. She sees the toy spoon on the floor, and like any good little church lady says, "Oh! I still have to make that dinner."
@5. She pointed at the drain in the bathroom floor, "There's fishies down there!"
@Home Again. She sees the toy spoon on the floor, and like any good little church lady says, "Oh! I still have to make that dinner."
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Trust in the Lord
"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding." -- ??
For some reason, I can remember the words clearly for a week but cannot find the exact scriptural reference tonight.
Here it is, Proverbs 3:5:
5 Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
6 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
7 Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the Lord, and depart from evil.
8 It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones.
9 Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the firstfruits of all thine increase:
10 So shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy presses shall burst out with new wine.
11 My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction:
12 For whom the Lord loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth.
13 Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding.
I encourage you to read the full chapter at lds.org: Proverbs 3
Trust in the Lord -- the other day I was thinking of some current struggles and sobbing about this statement. Its just not that easy. Four little words make it sound like, "Hey, no sweat, how hard could it be." And yet, I find myself again and again struggling to trust in the Lord, and not on my own understanding. And every time it works out I apologize to my Father in Heaven, and like my 2 and 1/2 year old, I say, "I will NEVER EVER do that again." I will NEVER EVER doubt again. I will NEVER EVER struggle to leap. I will NEVER EVER lack that faith. And yet, here I go again.
I also know something else that I tend to forget. The Lord loves me. Another four words that don't really accurately portray all that my Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ, are willing to do for me. Another four words which my pea-brained mind is only beginning to understand.
So, just how does this apply today?
I know that I am special. Not special, "I'm better than you" special. But special -- as in unique, special. As in God threw away the mold when He was done baking me. As in, there was no mold because He carved me by hand -- is STILL carving me by hand. And I believe that each of us is a very unique carving by the hand of God.
I married a man who has been divorced twice. You should have seen the looks I got -- like I was yet another woman to break his heart, or there must be something wrong with me because he doesn't have good taste. Let me tell you, it takes a special kind of woman to be a 2nd or 3rd wife. (And I imagine the same goes for a 2nd or 3rd husband.) You have to be the type of person who is really good at finding the (sometimes broken) diamond in the rough, willing to take on a long-term project, and be very self-confident in who you are. It was very humorous to me when everyone in my husband's life assumed who I was or would be. It didn't take much for me to knock their socks off -- but I'm used to that. People just don't see the tornado that's about to hit them when they meet me. ;)
So, how do I make sense of this? Did I just "get lucky" that he was divorced? No. Not by a long shot. I know that my husband and I knew each other before we were born, and that we were meant to be married. I know that because of who my husband is, he made choices, and I made choices, and in the end, it all worked out. And I know that God knew that. I know that his divorces helped him appreciate me more, and my dating experiences help me appreciate him more. And I have a feeling, that if it didn't work out, God had a really good back-up plan in mind for me. ;) (tongue in cheek) But even though we both have a testimony of our marriage, it is good for me to occasionally remind him that "he wasn't my only option".
Furthermore, I know that I will be married to my husband for all of eternity. And my children will be mine for all of eternity. I know that in the next life, everyone receives that which they care most about. My husband wants a mansion in Heaven. I just want a cottage in a clearing in the woods with a large garden that never gets weeds -- where it is very quiet when I need it to be quiet, and where the animals are loud and noisy when I need the distraction. And where there is a path to the city, if I ever want to leave and enjoy the theatre. And at night, it is so clear that I can see millions and millions of stars. And any service God needs me to do will be done via computer, unless its for children -- then I will show up in person, "with bells on". (Sorry, I digressed for a minute there.)
But this is where I trust in the Lord, and lean not unto my own understanding. For He knows who I am, and what will make me happy. He knows the depth of my heart, and breadth of my personality and how little room I have for inadequate previous wives. And again, tongue-in-cheek, if my husband doesn't meet me in my wooded clearing I'm sure there's a REALLY good back-up plan waiting.
For some reason, I can remember the words clearly for a week but cannot find the exact scriptural reference tonight.
Here it is, Proverbs 3:5:
5 Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
6 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
7 Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the Lord, and depart from evil.
8 It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones.
9 Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the firstfruits of all thine increase:
10 So shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy presses shall burst out with new wine.
11 My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction:
12 For whom the Lord loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth.
13 Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding.
I encourage you to read the full chapter at lds.org: Proverbs 3
Trust in the Lord -- the other day I was thinking of some current struggles and sobbing about this statement. Its just not that easy. Four little words make it sound like, "Hey, no sweat, how hard could it be." And yet, I find myself again and again struggling to trust in the Lord, and not on my own understanding. And every time it works out I apologize to my Father in Heaven, and like my 2 and 1/2 year old, I say, "I will NEVER EVER do that again." I will NEVER EVER doubt again. I will NEVER EVER struggle to leap. I will NEVER EVER lack that faith. And yet, here I go again.
I also know something else that I tend to forget. The Lord loves me. Another four words that don't really accurately portray all that my Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ, are willing to do for me. Another four words which my pea-brained mind is only beginning to understand.
So, just how does this apply today?
I know that I am special. Not special, "I'm better than you" special. But special -- as in unique, special. As in God threw away the mold when He was done baking me. As in, there was no mold because He carved me by hand -- is STILL carving me by hand. And I believe that each of us is a very unique carving by the hand of God.
I married a man who has been divorced twice. You should have seen the looks I got -- like I was yet another woman to break his heart, or there must be something wrong with me because he doesn't have good taste. Let me tell you, it takes a special kind of woman to be a 2nd or 3rd wife. (And I imagine the same goes for a 2nd or 3rd husband.) You have to be the type of person who is really good at finding the (sometimes broken) diamond in the rough, willing to take on a long-term project, and be very self-confident in who you are. It was very humorous to me when everyone in my husband's life assumed who I was or would be. It didn't take much for me to knock their socks off -- but I'm used to that. People just don't see the tornado that's about to hit them when they meet me. ;)
So, how do I make sense of this? Did I just "get lucky" that he was divorced? No. Not by a long shot. I know that my husband and I knew each other before we were born, and that we were meant to be married. I know that because of who my husband is, he made choices, and I made choices, and in the end, it all worked out. And I know that God knew that. I know that his divorces helped him appreciate me more, and my dating experiences help me appreciate him more. And I have a feeling, that if it didn't work out, God had a really good back-up plan in mind for me. ;) (tongue in cheek) But even though we both have a testimony of our marriage, it is good for me to occasionally remind him that "he wasn't my only option".
Furthermore, I know that I will be married to my husband for all of eternity. And my children will be mine for all of eternity. I know that in the next life, everyone receives that which they care most about. My husband wants a mansion in Heaven. I just want a cottage in a clearing in the woods with a large garden that never gets weeds -- where it is very quiet when I need it to be quiet, and where the animals are loud and noisy when I need the distraction. And where there is a path to the city, if I ever want to leave and enjoy the theatre. And at night, it is so clear that I can see millions and millions of stars. And any service God needs me to do will be done via computer, unless its for children -- then I will show up in person, "with bells on". (Sorry, I digressed for a minute there.)
But this is where I trust in the Lord, and lean not unto my own understanding. For He knows who I am, and what will make me happy. He knows the depth of my heart, and breadth of my personality and how little room I have for inadequate previous wives. And again, tongue-in-cheek, if my husband doesn't meet me in my wooded clearing I'm sure there's a REALLY good back-up plan waiting.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Beggars Can't Be Choosers
I'm a mother of two beautiful, smart, wonderful, caring children. And we adopted them. But I want the world to know that I did not "settle" for them. My children are not some kind of door prize given to those sad souls who can't conceive children on their own. My children are the once-in-a-lifetime, Publisher's Clearing House, win the BIG lotto type of prize. They are the Golden Ticket -- and I got two of them.
I have read articles, comments on articles, and talked to people (even former family) who have the attitude that since adoptive parents can't conceive on their own, they should accept whatever child is offered to them. They cite the thousands of older children above the age of 5 yrs old who are still in foster care because they are considered "un-adoptable". They cite the thousands of special needs kids in America who need loving homes. Basically, I have often heard one of two things: 1) "beggars can't be choosers" or 2) you need to be more lovingly, like Mother Theresa.
I have spent some time with older foster kids, and they are wonderful. I love them dearly. I am privileged to know them. Every day, they and they're families fight to overcome the craziness of their early childhood years. To stabilize, to love, and to nurture.
But let me clarify a few things. Some of these kids are still in foster status because our system is trying very hard to give their bio-parents every opportunity to re-unite their families. Many of the children aren't available for adoption, because bio-parents keep taking two steps forward and one step back. Kids go home to live with bio-parents for 6 months, things fall apart again, and the kids are back in the system. Basically, they are unavailable for adoption, not "un-adoptable".
Additionally, social workers are trying very hard to put kids in homes where the placement will work "for good". They try very hard to match personalities, race, culture, etc. They try very hard to blend this new family just right and still fit within all the state-mandated requirements on number of children in the home, boys in one room and girls in another, and age separation between child and parents. I don't always agree with the decisions, but I'm glad I'm not a social worker.
My goal in adopting children wasn't to relieve societal or family pressure on myself. It wasn't to feel fulfilled as a woman. It was simply to be a "mom". My dream was to watch that toddler start to express themselves and get to know everything that was happening in that little brain. My dream was to hold a tiny baby and watch that tiny baby take everything I had or had not provided or taught and turn into a wonderful adult.
I read all those questionnaires from the agencies, and did countless hours of soul-searching with my spouse on what we wanted in our future family, and we answered those very seriously. No one teaches you how to "be flexible" without twisting your spouse's arm. Those probably had to be some of the most difficult conversations of our marriage. Knowing that every "No" meant less opportunity to adopt, but still trying to respect the other's opinions and feelings. And no, in the end, we did not ask for perfection.
As adults, we realize that sometimes we have to "settle". We trade old dreams for new ones. We sacrifice something we once thought we wanted, for something we want more now. Sometimes, we have remorse. We call it "settling". Other times, we realize that we have grown and our dreams have changed, and we are at peace with those decisions.
My dream was to have brand new, completely healthy babies ... and know that someday, when they hate me or when I'm totally aggravated by their decisions --- that all of it, EVERY SINGLE NURTURING INFLUENCE OR LACK THEREOF, was completely my fault. That's crazy, yes, but I wasn't settling on this.
And I am NOT Mother Theresa. My children are not "lucky to have me". Heck, they will be lucky to survive me. I'm not a "tiger mom", but pretty close -- I constantly fight my hovering instinct. I am lucky to know my children. They are beautiful people. They have saved my life in ways no one will ever understand. They help me laugh when I forget to, they motivate me to be a better person, and they remind me that there is more to life than just work.
I have read articles, comments on articles, and talked to people (even former family) who have the attitude that since adoptive parents can't conceive on their own, they should accept whatever child is offered to them. They cite the thousands of older children above the age of 5 yrs old who are still in foster care because they are considered "un-adoptable". They cite the thousands of special needs kids in America who need loving homes. Basically, I have often heard one of two things: 1) "beggars can't be choosers" or 2) you need to be more lovingly, like Mother Theresa.
I have spent some time with older foster kids, and they are wonderful. I love them dearly. I am privileged to know them. Every day, they and they're families fight to overcome the craziness of their early childhood years. To stabilize, to love, and to nurture.
But let me clarify a few things. Some of these kids are still in foster status because our system is trying very hard to give their bio-parents every opportunity to re-unite their families. Many of the children aren't available for adoption, because bio-parents keep taking two steps forward and one step back. Kids go home to live with bio-parents for 6 months, things fall apart again, and the kids are back in the system. Basically, they are unavailable for adoption, not "un-adoptable".
Additionally, social workers are trying very hard to put kids in homes where the placement will work "for good". They try very hard to match personalities, race, culture, etc. They try very hard to blend this new family just right and still fit within all the state-mandated requirements on number of children in the home, boys in one room and girls in another, and age separation between child and parents. I don't always agree with the decisions, but I'm glad I'm not a social worker.
My goal in adopting children wasn't to relieve societal or family pressure on myself. It wasn't to feel fulfilled as a woman. It was simply to be a "mom". My dream was to watch that toddler start to express themselves and get to know everything that was happening in that little brain. My dream was to hold a tiny baby and watch that tiny baby take everything I had or had not provided or taught and turn into a wonderful adult.
I read all those questionnaires from the agencies, and did countless hours of soul-searching with my spouse on what we wanted in our future family, and we answered those very seriously. No one teaches you how to "be flexible" without twisting your spouse's arm. Those probably had to be some of the most difficult conversations of our marriage. Knowing that every "No" meant less opportunity to adopt, but still trying to respect the other's opinions and feelings. And no, in the end, we did not ask for perfection.
As adults, we realize that sometimes we have to "settle". We trade old dreams for new ones. We sacrifice something we once thought we wanted, for something we want more now. Sometimes, we have remorse. We call it "settling". Other times, we realize that we have grown and our dreams have changed, and we are at peace with those decisions.
My dream was to have brand new, completely healthy babies ... and know that someday, when they hate me or when I'm totally aggravated by their decisions --- that all of it, EVERY SINGLE NURTURING INFLUENCE OR LACK THEREOF, was completely my fault. That's crazy, yes, but I wasn't settling on this.
And I am NOT Mother Theresa. My children are not "lucky to have me". Heck, they will be lucky to survive me. I'm not a "tiger mom", but pretty close -- I constantly fight my hovering instinct. I am lucky to know my children. They are beautiful people. They have saved my life in ways no one will ever understand. They help me laugh when I forget to, they motivate me to be a better person, and they remind me that there is more to life than just work.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
First Grade Orientation
I attended school orientation for my first grader tonight. One of the other moms looked at me and said, "Why? Our kids have been attending here for ages, what do I need to get "orientated" about?" I said, "Well, they could have changed things since last year." She said, "Thanks, you're not helping." She stayed and was glad she did, because things are changing just a bit.
I like the beginning of the school year --- NO, I LOVE THE BEGINNING OF SCHOOL. I always have, and now that I work full-time I get to live vicariously through my children. Ah! The joy of new erasers and fresh markers. Fresh school clothes. A new class. A new teacher, sometimes. A fresh start.
I had a mixture of emotion tonight. Gratitude that my son has the same teacher again -- a teacher who obviously loves children. Total exhaustion at the thought of another nine months of homework battles. Pride when the teacher mentioned in front of the other parents that my son was the best reader in the class last year. Relief when the other 1st grader parents mentioned that yes, their children had also completely resisted workbooks and reading this summer. --- And Comraderie when I left the room with the other first grade parents discussing the changes for the new year.
Ah! What fun it is to be a parent.
I like the beginning of the school year --- NO, I LOVE THE BEGINNING OF SCHOOL. I always have, and now that I work full-time I get to live vicariously through my children. Ah! The joy of new erasers and fresh markers. Fresh school clothes. A new class. A new teacher, sometimes. A fresh start.
I had a mixture of emotion tonight. Gratitude that my son has the same teacher again -- a teacher who obviously loves children. Total exhaustion at the thought of another nine months of homework battles. Pride when the teacher mentioned in front of the other parents that my son was the best reader in the class last year. Relief when the other 1st grader parents mentioned that yes, their children had also completely resisted workbooks and reading this summer. --- And Comraderie when I left the room with the other first grade parents discussing the changes for the new year.
Ah! What fun it is to be a parent.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
So I Bought A Chevy Volt
(This blog will be written in installments, as time permits. All new additions, have dates in blue.)
What was my motivation?
I drive 84 miles round trip per day, 5 days per week. I was at the gas station twice per week. We had driven a Chevy Volt at a car show and liked it. So, I continued to eye the Volts. We had also driven a Leaf. It scared me to drive a solely electric car with two kids -- and be stuck someplace without a charge. I was already dealing with occasional break-downs in my current "beater" car. The Volt's electric battery with "back-up" gas engine was a great solution. But a single charge could only get me to work, I would still need to drive gas on the way home at night.
Then, my company installed electric vehicle charging stations at no cost to the employees. I could charge at home, drive to work, charge at work during the day, and drive home.
Then, my current vehicle died. http://workingonwonderwoman.blogspot.com/2012/07/ode-to-my-honda-crv.html
We looked at used cars. I really did try to buy a used car. Even with a used car, we would be adding a car payment and increased insurance (possibly) to the monthly budget --- and still on the same gasoline bill. We went to a popular used car dealership, the one car under $20K my husband outright refused to buy. We checked into a used Honda from a local dealership, and the Honda salesman turned me off almost immediately.
So, we drove down the street to the Chevy dealership.
How the Volt Works (in non-engineer terms)
To Be Written
My Driving Habits
Freeway Driving:
I had three speeds on the freeway.
For example, one day I got tired of driving behind someone who had no one in front of them and was going less than the speed limit. I hit the gas, and passed around the vehicle. The Volt followed my lead and did a great job -- however, I was on my last tiny bit of electric charge when I got to work (which is why the gas tank back-up is WONDERFUL).
City Street Driving:
Low Profile:
Extra Weight:
By the Numbers -- Gasoline
I put gas in the car before I drove it home the first night, 06/30/12. As of 07/30/12, I have not put gas in since I bought it, I have driven 2,027 miles, and my car tells me I still have 70 miles to go on the gas tank -- if I didn't have any battery power remaining. January through June of 2012, I've averaged $300/month in gasoline expenses on my Honda (minimum $203, maximum $418). My husband's Dodge van averaged $465/month (minimum $375, maximum $543). We've been using the Volt for family errands on Saturdays, instead of the van.
Our gasoline costs for the month of July were $274. Assuming our driving habits were similar in July to the first 6 months of the year, that's a $491 savings. Even if we both had spent our minimum gasoline bill in the same month (which we didn't), its still a savings of $304.
08/09/12: I ran on gas for a little while this evening. The first 3.5 miles were solely highway, measured ~50 mpg. Slowed down for the off-ramp and the stoplight/ stop sign laden city streets for another 4 miles, measured ~30.7 mpg. One adult and two kids with car seats weighing down the car.
By the Numbers -- Electricity
We are currently running our home electricity and electric charging for the Volt on the same meter. Southern California Edison offers an additional price break if we pay an electrician to install a separate meter just for the car. We're looking into that.
Our electricity billing is based on a tiered system, with the price going up for each kWh as your usage increases past each tier's threshold.
July, 2010 Usage: 70.56 kWh. The average max temp in the area for the month was 91 deg F, and average mean 77 deg F. The peak was 105 deg F.
July, 2011 Usage: 68.00 kWh.
The average max temp was 92 deg F, and average mean 78 deg F. The peak was 100 deg F.
July, 2012 Usage: 67.91 kWh with the Volt charging ~24 days.
The average max temp was 93 deg F, and average mean 78 deg F. The peak was 102 deg F.
So, obviously, something in our habits changed to offset the Volt charging. I don't know what it was (-- we are still very good friends with our central A/C), but either way, our habits and the weather have about as much affect on our electric bill as charging a car.
A true comparison might be easier during the winter months when our electrical usage is fairly consistent over many months. We're currently in our 3-month peak season.
How It Drives
To Be Written
Interior & Cargo Space
08/10/12: Very comfortable, enjoyable ride. Easy to wipe down, clean-up any spills. All controls easily within reach. Enough room for back packs, bags, etc. on the floor of the front passenger seat or in the trunk. I only have some small "Commuter Mom" comments:
1) I can't reach the floor of the back seat. In the Honda CRV, I could pretty much play "gumby" Mom while driving and reach any sippy cup, granola bar, or toy dropped on the floor without any effort. Now, I can't reach anything. But maybe the kids will just learn to keep track of their stuff. ;)
2) There isn't a really good spot for a trash bag. The floor of the front passenger seat puts the bag too far away. Putting a bag on the passenger seat always has the risk of spilling all over the car when hitting the brakes or leaking onto the seat. There's two cup holders and an open cubby behind the gear shift, so between the three spots, one ends up getting used as a small trash.
3) The console between the front seats runs across the floor of the back seats, in between the back seats to the trunk. So, basically, the kids have to climb over this (putting their dusty feet all over) to get out of the opposite side of the car -- which is necessary on occasion when some idiot parks too close to one of your doors.
4) Space is great for myself and the two kids with our daily stuff. There's a period in every child's life when their legs lay straight out from their seat, and aren't long enough to hang down. So, when my husband joins us in the car on the weekend, there's a little compromise on leg space between him and the little one in the back seat.
But like I said, these are minor. Maybe this will help some future or current car designer think of what us "Commuter Moms" need.
What was my motivation?
I drive 84 miles round trip per day, 5 days per week. I was at the gas station twice per week. We had driven a Chevy Volt at a car show and liked it. So, I continued to eye the Volts. We had also driven a Leaf. It scared me to drive a solely electric car with two kids -- and be stuck someplace without a charge. I was already dealing with occasional break-downs in my current "beater" car. The Volt's electric battery with "back-up" gas engine was a great solution. But a single charge could only get me to work, I would still need to drive gas on the way home at night.
Then, my company installed electric vehicle charging stations at no cost to the employees. I could charge at home, drive to work, charge at work during the day, and drive home.
Then, my current vehicle died. http://workingonwonderwoman.blogspot.com/2012/07/ode-to-my-honda-crv.html
We looked at used cars. I really did try to buy a used car. Even with a used car, we would be adding a car payment and increased insurance (possibly) to the monthly budget --- and still on the same gasoline bill. We went to a popular used car dealership, the one car under $20K my husband outright refused to buy. We checked into a used Honda from a local dealership, and the Honda salesman turned me off almost immediately.
So, we drove down the street to the Chevy dealership.
How the Volt Works (in non-engineer terms)
To Be Written
My Driving Habits
Freeway Driving:
I had three speeds on the freeway.
- My goal speed. If I drove too long below this speed, I got very angry.
- My, "Oh crap, I wasn't looking" speed. At which point, my foot came off the gas.
- And my, "#%$#&%$, I REALLY wasn't looking" speed. At which point, I tapped the brakes.
For example, one day I got tired of driving behind someone who had no one in front of them and was going less than the speed limit. I hit the gas, and passed around the vehicle. The Volt followed my lead and did a great job -- however, I was on my last tiny bit of electric charge when I got to work (which is why the gas tank back-up is WONDERFUL).
City Street Driving:
Low Profile:
Extra Weight:
By the Numbers -- Gasoline
I put gas in the car before I drove it home the first night, 06/30/12. As of 07/30/12, I have not put gas in since I bought it, I have driven 2,027 miles, and my car tells me I still have 70 miles to go on the gas tank -- if I didn't have any battery power remaining. January through June of 2012, I've averaged $300/month in gasoline expenses on my Honda (minimum $203, maximum $418). My husband's Dodge van averaged $465/month (minimum $375, maximum $543). We've been using the Volt for family errands on Saturdays, instead of the van.
Our gasoline costs for the month of July were $274. Assuming our driving habits were similar in July to the first 6 months of the year, that's a $491 savings. Even if we both had spent our minimum gasoline bill in the same month (which we didn't), its still a savings of $304.
08/09/12: I ran on gas for a little while this evening. The first 3.5 miles were solely highway, measured ~50 mpg. Slowed down for the off-ramp and the stoplight/ stop sign laden city streets for another 4 miles, measured ~30.7 mpg. One adult and two kids with car seats weighing down the car.
By the Numbers -- Electricity
We are currently running our home electricity and electric charging for the Volt on the same meter. Southern California Edison offers an additional price break if we pay an electrician to install a separate meter just for the car. We're looking into that.
Our electricity billing is based on a tiered system, with the price going up for each kWh as your usage increases past each tier's threshold.
July, 2010 Usage: 70.56 kWh. The average max temp in the area for the month was 91 deg F, and average mean 77 deg F. The peak was 105 deg F.
July, 2011 Usage: 68.00 kWh.
The average max temp was 92 deg F, and average mean 78 deg F. The peak was 100 deg F.
July, 2012 Usage: 67.91 kWh with the Volt charging ~24 days.
The average max temp was 93 deg F, and average mean 78 deg F. The peak was 102 deg F.
So, obviously, something in our habits changed to offset the Volt charging. I don't know what it was (-- we are still very good friends with our central A/C), but either way, our habits and the weather have about as much affect on our electric bill as charging a car.
A true comparison might be easier during the winter months when our electrical usage is fairly consistent over many months. We're currently in our 3-month peak season.
How It Drives
To Be Written
Interior & Cargo Space
08/10/12: Very comfortable, enjoyable ride. Easy to wipe down, clean-up any spills. All controls easily within reach. Enough room for back packs, bags, etc. on the floor of the front passenger seat or in the trunk. I only have some small "Commuter Mom" comments:
1) I can't reach the floor of the back seat. In the Honda CRV, I could pretty much play "gumby" Mom while driving and reach any sippy cup, granola bar, or toy dropped on the floor without any effort. Now, I can't reach anything. But maybe the kids will just learn to keep track of their stuff. ;)
2) There isn't a really good spot for a trash bag. The floor of the front passenger seat puts the bag too far away. Putting a bag on the passenger seat always has the risk of spilling all over the car when hitting the brakes or leaking onto the seat. There's two cup holders and an open cubby behind the gear shift, so between the three spots, one ends up getting used as a small trash.
3) The console between the front seats runs across the floor of the back seats, in between the back seats to the trunk. So, basically, the kids have to climb over this (putting their dusty feet all over) to get out of the opposite side of the car -- which is necessary on occasion when some idiot parks too close to one of your doors.
4) Space is great for myself and the two kids with our daily stuff. There's a period in every child's life when their legs lay straight out from their seat, and aren't long enough to hang down. So, when my husband joins us in the car on the weekend, there's a little compromise on leg space between him and the little one in the back seat.
But like I said, these are minor. Maybe this will help some future or current car designer think of what us "Commuter Moms" need.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Proud to Be A Mormon
There was a recent Facebook post of a picture of the LDS temple in San Diego, California. It said, "Share if you are proud to be a Mormon." I did, because I am.
I am a Latter-Day Saint. I know that Jesus Christ lives. I know that I am a daughter of God. I know that my Heavenly Father loves me. And I am proud to be nick-named "a Mormon".
Now, why am I proud to be a Mormon?
I am proud to be a Mormon, because there was a time when I wasn't -- well, at least not a very good one. There was a time in my life when I wasn't living the way I should. When I wasn't living up to the knowledge and testimony that I had previously acquired by study and faith.
Through a lot of hard work, I repented, and I changed. I fought hard. I fought harder trying to forgive myself, but eventually that happened. And that's why I'm proud. I'm proud because through exercising the gospel of repentance, through two great bishops, and a lot of love from family and friends --- I became a better person. I am grateful for both bishops, one bishop who laid down the law, and the other who convinced me it was okay to forgive myself. I am proud to be a Mormon, someone who sets high standards for themselves and fights to live up to those standards. Someone who doesn't give up, but strives every day to do a little better.
And isn't that what a religion should do?
I am a Latter-Day Saint. I know that Jesus Christ lives. I know that I am a daughter of God. I know that my Heavenly Father loves me. And I am proud to be nick-named "a Mormon".
Now, why am I proud to be a Mormon?
I am proud to be a Mormon, because there was a time when I wasn't -- well, at least not a very good one. There was a time in my life when I wasn't living the way I should. When I wasn't living up to the knowledge and testimony that I had previously acquired by study and faith.
Through a lot of hard work, I repented, and I changed. I fought hard. I fought harder trying to forgive myself, but eventually that happened. And that's why I'm proud. I'm proud because through exercising the gospel of repentance, through two great bishops, and a lot of love from family and friends --- I became a better person. I am grateful for both bishops, one bishop who laid down the law, and the other who convinced me it was okay to forgive myself. I am proud to be a Mormon, someone who sets high standards for themselves and fights to live up to those standards. Someone who doesn't give up, but strives every day to do a little better.
And isn't that what a religion should do?
Friday, July 6, 2012
Ode to My Honda CRV
He started life on the freeways of southern California in 1999, and entered the "car witness protection program" two years later. He reappeared in Sacramento with 68,836 miles, and a new zest for life. He hung out at "witness protection headquarters" eagerly waiting for his relocation assignment.
Then, two short blonde chicks walked in one night, and thought they could make a deal on a car. Late that night, they finally claimed this dark green Honda CRV and drove him off the lot for good. The smarter, prettier, and wiser blonde girl made herself at home in the front seat, and proceeded to name this Honda, "Skeeter". What was in store for Skeeter?
To his dismay, she loaded him high with her stuff, drove west and picked up more stuff, then drove south -- and kept driving. She took her time, seems she was overdue for a vacation. Eventually, they made it to their destination -- very near Skeeter's original home.
She drove like a mad-woman. Seems she was also over-due for some fun! Skeeter kept up with her freeway antics, long drives to meet her "friend", and forgetfulness for oil changes and regular maintenance. They had fun. And she made sure he had regular trips to the carwash. He liked being clean.
Fairly quickly, this "friend" became her husband, and they both drove him around -- and drove each other crazy. The hubby ensured Skeeter got regular maintenance -- and took Skeeter off-roading when the blonde wasn't around. That was fun! Skeeter out-did those big fancy trucks. Skeeter and the hubby even pulled a tree stump out of the back yard one day --- to the objections of the blonde.
There were outings to the mountains, up the coast of California & down the coast & up again, up the central valley of California & down again & up again, adventures to Utah and Idaho and Nevada, camping twice -- once even they slept in the car while camping. Chili cheese fries, soda, and burritos spilled on Skeeter's floor mats and always cleaned up. Because she loved him, she wasted some money on new rubber window gaskets, and eventually a reclaimed spare tire cover.
Then these little ones arrived -- always dropping sippy cups and milk bottles on the floor. What a mess! Maintenance got very regular, but carwashes declined. Skeeter hated the trailmix and fruit snacks that were constant companions in the back seat, but loved the company. Eventually Skeeter started to feel his age. He was hospitalized for awhile for engine work, and he felt good for awhile. Then, Skeeter's transmission needed a face lift. That didn't go so well, that took some revisits to the doctor's office.
Then, both Skeeter and the blonde could see the writing on the wall. They knew that time was short. Skeeter was left at home when the family left on vacation. He was very sad, but knew he couldn't make it anymore. One day, his starter was having trouble. She gave him a little gas, and he managed to get going, and that was good for a couple of weeks. She was afraid to take him to the doctor this time. He had many miles on him, but was giving her everything he could give.
Late in June almost 10 years from the time they met, Skeeter couldn't make it over the freeway hill and he over-heated. She turned him around and limped him to the mechanic. The news was bad. He needed a new engine gasket, his second. And his crank pulley was wobbly. If they could fix the gasket, it was just a band-aid and a new engine would be needed soon. They both knew he was unsafe to drive the kids around in.
She felt bad, almost disloyal, but she couldn't afford to fix him. She cried. Skeeter cried, but they said their good-byes. She sold him to somebody who could afford to fix him with his own skills. And she hoped, for his sake, that it gave him another chance. He still had his original engine and transmission, and had served her faithfully and reliably until he had 341,026 miles. And she'll never forget him.
Her life had changed over the last 10 years, and Skeeter had been with her for every mile -- whether difficult or fun or disappointing. He had been there, and she'll never forget him.
Then, two short blonde chicks walked in one night, and thought they could make a deal on a car. Late that night, they finally claimed this dark green Honda CRV and drove him off the lot for good. The smarter, prettier, and wiser blonde girl made herself at home in the front seat, and proceeded to name this Honda, "Skeeter". What was in store for Skeeter?
To his dismay, she loaded him high with her stuff, drove west and picked up more stuff, then drove south -- and kept driving. She took her time, seems she was overdue for a vacation. Eventually, they made it to their destination -- very near Skeeter's original home.
She drove like a mad-woman. Seems she was also over-due for some fun! Skeeter kept up with her freeway antics, long drives to meet her "friend", and forgetfulness for oil changes and regular maintenance. They had fun. And she made sure he had regular trips to the carwash. He liked being clean.
Fairly quickly, this "friend" became her husband, and they both drove him around -- and drove each other crazy. The hubby ensured Skeeter got regular maintenance -- and took Skeeter off-roading when the blonde wasn't around. That was fun! Skeeter out-did those big fancy trucks. Skeeter and the hubby even pulled a tree stump out of the back yard one day --- to the objections of the blonde.
There were outings to the mountains, up the coast of California & down the coast & up again, up the central valley of California & down again & up again, adventures to Utah and Idaho and Nevada, camping twice -- once even they slept in the car while camping. Chili cheese fries, soda, and burritos spilled on Skeeter's floor mats and always cleaned up. Because she loved him, she wasted some money on new rubber window gaskets, and eventually a reclaimed spare tire cover.
Then these little ones arrived -- always dropping sippy cups and milk bottles on the floor. What a mess! Maintenance got very regular, but carwashes declined. Skeeter hated the trailmix and fruit snacks that were constant companions in the back seat, but loved the company. Eventually Skeeter started to feel his age. He was hospitalized for awhile for engine work, and he felt good for awhile. Then, Skeeter's transmission needed a face lift. That didn't go so well, that took some revisits to the doctor's office.
Then, both Skeeter and the blonde could see the writing on the wall. They knew that time was short. Skeeter was left at home when the family left on vacation. He was very sad, but knew he couldn't make it anymore. One day, his starter was having trouble. She gave him a little gas, and he managed to get going, and that was good for a couple of weeks. She was afraid to take him to the doctor this time. He had many miles on him, but was giving her everything he could give.
Late in June almost 10 years from the time they met, Skeeter couldn't make it over the freeway hill and he over-heated. She turned him around and limped him to the mechanic. The news was bad. He needed a new engine gasket, his second. And his crank pulley was wobbly. If they could fix the gasket, it was just a band-aid and a new engine would be needed soon. They both knew he was unsafe to drive the kids around in.
She felt bad, almost disloyal, but she couldn't afford to fix him. She cried. Skeeter cried, but they said their good-byes. She sold him to somebody who could afford to fix him with his own skills. And she hoped, for his sake, that it gave him another chance. He still had his original engine and transmission, and had served her faithfully and reliably until he had 341,026 miles. And she'll never forget him.
Her life had changed over the last 10 years, and Skeeter had been with her for every mile -- whether difficult or fun or disappointing. He had been there, and she'll never forget him.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
When Moses Went to Mexico
When I was married, it was a long week. My mother-in-law died the week before we got married, and it got worse from there. When the elderly officiator at my wedding saw this young couple in front of him, he thought it was a good time to impart some of his life-long wisdom to us. Because it had been a terrible week and because I try to look for meaning in my life, I listened very intently to what the wise man had to say. I had been taught that if they have gray hair, you owe them an attentive ear. I thought surely something he would say in the next 10 minutes would somehow come to mind and save my marriage some day in the future.
I soon realized he was delivering an encapsulated version of the entire history of the Gospel of Jesus Christ --- sooo, I acted my age and politely nodded. I knew this already.
When I left the temple, my sister was waiting outside and said, "SO, I hear Moses went to Mexico!" "Huh?" "The officiator, he said, "and when Moses went down to Mexico"". Hmmm -- my wheels turning. "He did! You're right!!!" (Since we all know Moses went to Egypt, this was a good chuckle.)
I was thinking of this the other day. My mind was also wandering to the fact that my 10-year anniversary is approaching. I was thinking of what I could say I had learned after a decade of marriage, and then thought of this officiator. How my search for deep meaning that day had turned up an empty harvest.
And then, "Duh!"
What I have learned in almost 10 years of marriage, and what I learned from the officiator that day (now that I think about it) --- was a reminder to never take yourself too seriously. Here we were, a long, hard week which almost resulted in no wedding at all .... making an eternal, never-ending commitment. Seeing ourselves beyond this life, in a way only God sees us. And in the midst of it, "Moses went down to Mexico!"
Take your promises/ commitments/ covenants seriously. Take your duty to your spouse seriously. Be dedicated to them in every way --- even when you have to tell them to just "Cool It!". But never, ever take yourself or each other TOO seriously. Laugh. Laugh in your anger. Laugh while you cry. Laugh when you pay a bill off. Laugh when you can't pay it off, because the car broke down. Laugh when you're ready to kill each other. Laugh when you know you're wrong and just can't admit it. In the grand scheme, compared to our Father in Heaven, you are still two kids playing house, trying to figure out how it all works.
May all your Moses' go down to Mexico!
I soon realized he was delivering an encapsulated version of the entire history of the Gospel of Jesus Christ --- sooo, I acted my age and politely nodded. I knew this already.
When I left the temple, my sister was waiting outside and said, "SO, I hear Moses went to Mexico!" "Huh?" "The officiator, he said, "and when Moses went down to Mexico"". Hmmm -- my wheels turning. "He did! You're right!!!" (Since we all know Moses went to Egypt, this was a good chuckle.)
I was thinking of this the other day. My mind was also wandering to the fact that my 10-year anniversary is approaching. I was thinking of what I could say I had learned after a decade of marriage, and then thought of this officiator. How my search for deep meaning that day had turned up an empty harvest.
And then, "Duh!"
What I have learned in almost 10 years of marriage, and what I learned from the officiator that day (now that I think about it) --- was a reminder to never take yourself too seriously. Here we were, a long, hard week which almost resulted in no wedding at all .... making an eternal, never-ending commitment. Seeing ourselves beyond this life, in a way only God sees us. And in the midst of it, "Moses went down to Mexico!"
Take your promises/ commitments/ covenants seriously. Take your duty to your spouse seriously. Be dedicated to them in every way --- even when you have to tell them to just "Cool It!". But never, ever take yourself or each other TOO seriously. Laugh. Laugh in your anger. Laugh while you cry. Laugh when you pay a bill off. Laugh when you can't pay it off, because the car broke down. Laugh when you're ready to kill each other. Laugh when you know you're wrong and just can't admit it. In the grand scheme, compared to our Father in Heaven, you are still two kids playing house, trying to figure out how it all works.
May all your Moses' go down to Mexico!
Monday, June 18, 2012
Out-laws
I had a boss one time that referred to her in-laws as "the out-laws". She was married, with a daughter in college, and her mother-in-law was still encouraging her son to divorce his wife because she hadn't given birth to a son. They had a beautiful daughter, but couldn't have any more.
I know that family businesses can tear families apart. People get greedy, or feel their survival is threatened, and they do cruel things. Money has this strange effect on even the tightest bonds, people kick into anything between "fighting for survival" and "fighting for a pipe dream" that wouldn't do them any good anyway or one they will never live long enough to see to fruition. I know good people, grown adults, who are still seeking the approval of their abusive parents, and it will never happen.
Some families deal with theft, abuse, violence, psychoses, and hatred. And on the other hand, some families just can't communicate well. The former have good reasons to be estranged, to protect themselves from further harm. The latter, just don't get it. Oh how short these moments are on the stage of eternity!!
I know a wise woman, one I admire, and she taught me, "Consider the source." This advice has saved my career in more than one moment, but I think it has further application.
If you are in one of those families that doesn't have any "real" issues besides terrible communication, and you are at a family function .... just, "Consider the source." Be pleasant, kind, and outgoing. Be helpful. When all is done, get in the car, drive away, give your spouse an earful about your family and your in-laws, etc., etc., etc. But when all is said and done, consider the source.
What was said that you didn't like? Why was it said? Were you actually there or did it get relayed 2nd hand? Was it said out of love and concern, or hatred and cruelty? Every family communicates differently, most individuals communicate differently. Some individuals, even though they have adapted to their family communication style, still feel like its a "one size fits all" style that well, ... ... doesn't truly fit them. Then, what do we do? We go and throw in a bunch of in-laws, who don't know the "code of conduct", or will never fit into that "one size fits all" dress. And before you know it, we have some more "out-laws" because they don't fit into the dress. You've spent a lifetime learning to fit the mold, and you've fit it because that's all you've known. In-laws are lucky enough to see the mold, and know that it doesn't have to be.
So, consider the source. Ask yourself, which category it falls into: 1) different than my world view, 2) more open and frank than I appreciated, 3) insensitive, 4) vengeful, 5) intended to do harm, or 6) intended to incite war. What do I know about this person? Do they usually aim bows and arrows at the hearts of others OR are they generally a good person who married and cares for a member of your family? And how much do you care for that member of your family? Does your mutual past, memories, or shared lifetime, mean anything to you? .... Then, consider the source.
And after you "consider the source", pray for them. Get on your knees and pray for their health and happiness. Pray that you may know what they need and how to help them. Pray that they my know the joys you have in your life, and pray for understanding. Pray for forgiveness and gentleness of heart.
The other person in my life that I admire is my husband. He would give away our very home to help someone in need, if I let him. He remembers others, he prays for others. I am so buried in getting through each tough day, but he is the one who looks around for those eternal service opportunities. I wish someday to have the courageous heart he does. I yearn to have his courage to speak out about what I see, and what I care about. I wish people could see him as I do, and know that I am better because of him. He values family. He is the in-law, and still comes home and prays for my family. He prays for every single need he sees, and I don't know how he does it.
Like my blog subtitle says. My life is perfect, but I'm not ... I'm working on it.
I know that family businesses can tear families apart. People get greedy, or feel their survival is threatened, and they do cruel things. Money has this strange effect on even the tightest bonds, people kick into anything between "fighting for survival" and "fighting for a pipe dream" that wouldn't do them any good anyway or one they will never live long enough to see to fruition. I know good people, grown adults, who are still seeking the approval of their abusive parents, and it will never happen.
Some families deal with theft, abuse, violence, psychoses, and hatred. And on the other hand, some families just can't communicate well. The former have good reasons to be estranged, to protect themselves from further harm. The latter, just don't get it. Oh how short these moments are on the stage of eternity!!
I know a wise woman, one I admire, and she taught me, "Consider the source." This advice has saved my career in more than one moment, but I think it has further application.
If you are in one of those families that doesn't have any "real" issues besides terrible communication, and you are at a family function .... just, "Consider the source." Be pleasant, kind, and outgoing. Be helpful. When all is done, get in the car, drive away, give your spouse an earful about your family and your in-laws, etc., etc., etc. But when all is said and done, consider the source.
What was said that you didn't like? Why was it said? Were you actually there or did it get relayed 2nd hand? Was it said out of love and concern, or hatred and cruelty? Every family communicates differently, most individuals communicate differently. Some individuals, even though they have adapted to their family communication style, still feel like its a "one size fits all" style that well, ... ... doesn't truly fit them. Then, what do we do? We go and throw in a bunch of in-laws, who don't know the "code of conduct", or will never fit into that "one size fits all" dress. And before you know it, we have some more "out-laws" because they don't fit into the dress. You've spent a lifetime learning to fit the mold, and you've fit it because that's all you've known. In-laws are lucky enough to see the mold, and know that it doesn't have to be.
So, consider the source. Ask yourself, which category it falls into: 1) different than my world view, 2) more open and frank than I appreciated, 3) insensitive, 4) vengeful, 5) intended to do harm, or 6) intended to incite war. What do I know about this person? Do they usually aim bows and arrows at the hearts of others OR are they generally a good person who married and cares for a member of your family? And how much do you care for that member of your family? Does your mutual past, memories, or shared lifetime, mean anything to you? .... Then, consider the source.
And after you "consider the source", pray for them. Get on your knees and pray for their health and happiness. Pray that you may know what they need and how to help them. Pray that they my know the joys you have in your life, and pray for understanding. Pray for forgiveness and gentleness of heart.
The other person in my life that I admire is my husband. He would give away our very home to help someone in need, if I let him. He remembers others, he prays for others. I am so buried in getting through each tough day, but he is the one who looks around for those eternal service opportunities. I wish someday to have the courageous heart he does. I yearn to have his courage to speak out about what I see, and what I care about. I wish people could see him as I do, and know that I am better because of him. He values family. He is the in-law, and still comes home and prays for my family. He prays for every single need he sees, and I don't know how he does it.
Like my blog subtitle says. My life is perfect, but I'm not ... I'm working on it.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
A Family's Decisions
I have a few thoughts tonight. My son just finished Kindergarten. He scored the highest in his class on the standardized test in the subject of reading. There were other awards earned, given, and received, but I am very proud of my son. And, I am very proud of this family.
People say a lot of stupid things about working moms, about families with two working parents, and even about families who choose private school over public. When it comes to these trades in life my theory is: Be happy with your decision. Be honest enough with yourself to change it when it doesn't work. And respect the other woman or mom enough, to let HER be happy with HER decisions.
Our family juggles a crazy schedule, a good dose of hardship, long commutes, and ........ regardless of all that ...... my child has still learned to read. We have made our decisions with a lot of thought and prayer. Depending upon the choice, we continue to "check-in" to make sure that this is the only solution or that it is the solution we still desire. We are not my mother's family, or that other family at church, or that other family at school. We are OUR family. Our children are loved, and they and their education is a priority.
And I am very proud of my son and our little family tonight.
People say a lot of stupid things about working moms, about families with two working parents, and even about families who choose private school over public. When it comes to these trades in life my theory is: Be happy with your decision. Be honest enough with yourself to change it when it doesn't work. And respect the other woman or mom enough, to let HER be happy with HER decisions.
Our family juggles a crazy schedule, a good dose of hardship, long commutes, and ........ regardless of all that ...... my child has still learned to read. We have made our decisions with a lot of thought and prayer. Depending upon the choice, we continue to "check-in" to make sure that this is the only solution or that it is the solution we still desire. We are not my mother's family, or that other family at church, or that other family at school. We are OUR family. Our children are loved, and they and their education is a priority.
And I am very proud of my son and our little family tonight.
Friday, June 8, 2012
I am helping to index the 1940 census for easy computer searching. Go to https://familysearch.org/1940census for more info.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
My Sabbath
I'm a Latter-Day Saint (LDS). We have a lay clergy -- which means every member has a "job" at church in additional to their "normal" job and family duties. Our bishop is also a high school teacher, his first counselor is a draftsman and handyman, and his second counselor (my husband) is a financial services representative. I also have an assignment -- I'm the Primary President, which means I'm responsible for the religious education of the 18 month olds through 12 year olds.
I have known and still know some adults who resent the amount of time their parents spent in their church assignments. They feel that their parents cared more about their assignments or "callings" at church, than their own kids. I don't know, I think we all find something to resent our parents over. I was the kid who's parents didn't always come to church. My parents weren't very active until I was in high school, but they were always good people, I knew they believed in God, and we always prayed as a family. I didn't really understand the advantage of a temple marriage over a civil-only marriage until my parents were married in the temple when I was 16 years old. The four of us kids were also "sealed" to them for "time and all of eternity" at that time. Then, as a judgmental, opinionated teenager, I saw two good people with a good marriage, become something greater. This lesson has served me well over the years.
I guess I don't have a lot of sympathy for the adults who were active kids with active parents -- seems like a strange thing to hate your parents over. However, I do worry about my kids feeling this way some day. I don't want them to hate the Church because their Mom and Dad were busy serving everyone else, but them. I am very careful about how many hours I ask them to be adults in little kid bodies. Because really, the end goal is for them to love the Lord and His Church, as much as I do -- if not more.
So, back to today's sabbath:
This morning, my husband and I both needed to attend Ward Council (basically, our congregation's staff meeting with the bishop), which meant also taking the kids -- an almost 5 1/2 year old and an almost 2 year old for a 1.5 hr adult meeting. (Who is going to babysit at 7am on a Sunday?) Thankfully, I have two wonderful counselors who trade off months with me, but this month it was my turn. As I pulled up to the church 30 minutes late -- totally my fault this morning, but I didn't lose my cool -- my kids cheered and screamed, "Yay! Church!". I said, "Okay, but first we go to bishop's meeting." Then screams of "Yay! Bishop!" Man!!! That did my heart good!! This made my month!!! These two "little" adults were great during the meeting, and help me set up chairs in the classrooms afterward. Then, during church, with everyone watching and my husband helpless in the front of the room, I was in the back pew with two little ones who decided to be children again. I racked up 400 steps on my pedometer while "sitting still" in church, and my last comments were, "No touching!!!". I was handling it okay, better than some days, but I was ready to turn them over to their teachers. A member of the Stake Presidency (leaders over ~10 local congregations) walked by afterward and smiled "You did a good job." I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, right!" He smiled again, "I know its hard." Thank you, I needed that.
I have known and still know some adults who resent the amount of time their parents spent in their church assignments. They feel that their parents cared more about their assignments or "callings" at church, than their own kids. I don't know, I think we all find something to resent our parents over. I was the kid who's parents didn't always come to church. My parents weren't very active until I was in high school, but they were always good people, I knew they believed in God, and we always prayed as a family. I didn't really understand the advantage of a temple marriage over a civil-only marriage until my parents were married in the temple when I was 16 years old. The four of us kids were also "sealed" to them for "time and all of eternity" at that time. Then, as a judgmental, opinionated teenager, I saw two good people with a good marriage, become something greater. This lesson has served me well over the years.
I guess I don't have a lot of sympathy for the adults who were active kids with active parents -- seems like a strange thing to hate your parents over. However, I do worry about my kids feeling this way some day. I don't want them to hate the Church because their Mom and Dad were busy serving everyone else, but them. I am very careful about how many hours I ask them to be adults in little kid bodies. Because really, the end goal is for them to love the Lord and His Church, as much as I do -- if not more.
So, back to today's sabbath:
This morning, my husband and I both needed to attend Ward Council (basically, our congregation's staff meeting with the bishop), which meant also taking the kids -- an almost 5 1/2 year old and an almost 2 year old for a 1.5 hr adult meeting. (Who is going to babysit at 7am on a Sunday?) Thankfully, I have two wonderful counselors who trade off months with me, but this month it was my turn. As I pulled up to the church 30 minutes late -- totally my fault this morning, but I didn't lose my cool -- my kids cheered and screamed, "Yay! Church!". I said, "Okay, but first we go to bishop's meeting." Then screams of "Yay! Bishop!" Man!!! That did my heart good!! This made my month!!! These two "little" adults were great during the meeting, and help me set up chairs in the classrooms afterward. Then, during church, with everyone watching and my husband helpless in the front of the room, I was in the back pew with two little ones who decided to be children again. I racked up 400 steps on my pedometer while "sitting still" in church, and my last comments were, "No touching!!!". I was handling it okay, better than some days, but I was ready to turn them over to their teachers. A member of the Stake Presidency (leaders over ~10 local congregations) walked by afterward and smiled "You did a good job." I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, right!" He smiled again, "I know its hard." Thank you, I needed that.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
A Good Parenting Article
I love this article!! Made me feel better. Thank you to the Ralph's grocery store clerks and baggers who always show patience to my children, when I've obviously reached my limit. By the time a certain mother is pulling out her bank card, she is particularly curt and unbending to any child's request(s).
Apologies To The Parents I Judged Four Years Ago
My husband and I have judged other parents in our pre-children days, only to hear ourselves this Saturday at Sears saying, "I know she's screaming, but we can't take her out. She needs pants and shoes. Her pants don't fit." And with a committed look, the other saying, "Okay, we can handle this."
Apologies To The Parents I Judged Four Years Ago
My husband and I have judged other parents in our pre-children days, only to hear ourselves this Saturday at Sears saying, "I know she's screaming, but we can't take her out. She needs pants and shoes. Her pants don't fit." And with a committed look, the other saying, "Okay, we can handle this."
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Adoption Message of Hope
This will be short as I actually have house chores tonight, now that everyone's in bed.
I just wanted to send a blast to all my unknown friends out there -- all those adoptive parents in waiting.
A few people have asked me lately, "Oh! You adopted your kids! So, how is that process, 'cause I've heard a few things?" My response, "Yes, its awful. Its stressful, and exhausting, and unfair, .... BUT I now have two wonderful children."
I would throw myself in front of a bus for my two beautiful children. I would walk on hot coals for my kids. So, yes, I would even go through the adoption process all over again for them. Every intrusive question, every monthly inspection, every form, every long day of waiting. Every sleepless night wondering if the adoption would ever finalize. Every fear. Every terrible nightmare. Every tear and every prayer. Every strain it has put on my body, on my family relationships, and on my marriage.
Yes, I would do it again -- for one day like today. A swim lesson, a little friend's birthday party, two kids tracing their mother's outline with sidewalk chalk, a movie at home, one kid falling asleep in the highchair and another snuggling close.
Keep hoping, because eventually the judge will say "it is as if they had been born to you".
I just wanted to send a blast to all my unknown friends out there -- all those adoptive parents in waiting.
A few people have asked me lately, "Oh! You adopted your kids! So, how is that process, 'cause I've heard a few things?" My response, "Yes, its awful. Its stressful, and exhausting, and unfair, .... BUT I now have two wonderful children."
I would throw myself in front of a bus for my two beautiful children. I would walk on hot coals for my kids. So, yes, I would even go through the adoption process all over again for them. Every intrusive question, every monthly inspection, every form, every long day of waiting. Every sleepless night wondering if the adoption would ever finalize. Every fear. Every terrible nightmare. Every tear and every prayer. Every strain it has put on my body, on my family relationships, and on my marriage.
Yes, I would do it again -- for one day like today. A swim lesson, a little friend's birthday party, two kids tracing their mother's outline with sidewalk chalk, a movie at home, one kid falling asleep in the highchair and another snuggling close.
Keep hoping, because eventually the judge will say "it is as if they had been born to you".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)