Redneck Botox

I had a doozie of a weekend. I was determined to tackle some long overdue items on my mental TO DO list - one of which was to stain the extension we had put on our deck. Halfway through my violent flailing with a stain brush, I was perched on a hill underneath the deck, trying to stain up underneath one of the support posts when all of a sudden, I felt like someone drove nails into my forehead. I let out a blood curdling scream as I realized I had literally jammed my brush into a wasp nest. I had at least two wasp sting sites and a blinding headache the rest of the day while Husband went racing for the can of Raid and sprayed the snot out of our deck.

I thought that would be the end of my adventure but starting on Sunday afternoon, I noticed the left side of my face swelling up. Pretty soon I had a bulbous forehead, a smunched left eye, and a reddish haze creeping up my cheek and ear. Monday was even worse as I felt like my cheek was pushing up into my eye (think "Hitch" when Will Smith's character has an allergic reaction to nuts) and it itched like CRAZY! I made a run to CVS and came up to the counter loaded up with hydrocortisone and Benadryl.

It was about the fifth application of my anti-itch, anti-inflammatory, knock me unconscious treatments when I realized I MAY BE ON TO SOMETHING HERE! All that inflammation removed any hints of crows' feet starting around my eyes. I mean, if people pay good money to have their forehead injected with botulism toxin or to have their colon cleansed, why not offer my own "Redneck Botox" out at my ranch?

After a discussion with my brother, whose mind is as warped as mine, we determine we could issue burqa-style outfits with cutouts strategically placed over the area that you would, um, inflated. Then you get your very own paintbrush with a map to all the wasp nests and you can poke away.

That will be $60 and gratuities are always appreciated.

Sisterhood of the Ugly Pants

I have undertaken a project that has gone from mole hill to mountain in a hurry...I am scanning old photos and slides in order to share childhood photos with the rest of my siblings. In all my digging, I have uncovered the fact that we fell off the fashion tree and hit every branch on the way down when it came to pants. I submit the following as evidence:The extra bad news is that these were hand-me-downs...so not only did one sibling look ridiculous, the ridiculousness passed on down the line like the chicken pox. The good news is we were too clueless to know the difference.

My Life as a Zookeeper

I don't know when I became the activities director for the household but trying to keep two ADHD squirrels occupied this summer is going to drive me to drink! My day goes like this:

Shortly after breakfast, Elisabeth announces she is going to jump on the trampoline and wants Kate to go with her. Kate whines that she does not want to go. Elisabeth whines that she has no one to play with. I tell both of them to get their hind parts out to the trampoline and jump until they are out of breath. They go racing across the morning dew grass, jump for two minutes, then come trailing grass into the house announcing that they are bored.

I tell them to go play in the sandbox. They get all the sand toys out of the garage. They dump sand over the side and then decide to take buckets of water from the pool to the sandbox and turn it into a swamp. They are now covered from head to toe in sandy mud including mounds of sand in their hair. They come trailing in two minutes later declaring they are bored. They forget to take the sand toys out and the two hounds have buckets and shovels lodged in their jaws and are chewing like mad. Never let it be said that the hounds miss an opportunity to feed their oral fixation.

I tell the girls to go play downstairs. Elisabeth puts on her favorite pink princess dress. Kate puts on her pink leotard. They escape out the walkout basement and are in the pool. I tell them to get out of the pool but they whine that they want to go swimming. I tell them they need swimming suits. They come in, trailing water and wet grass and tear apart their swim drawer. They need help getting their suits on, I put their swim caps on, find their goggles, locate their swim toys, and spray them head to toe with sunscreen. They gleefully frolic in the pool for two minutes, then a ruckus ensues when Elisabeth dumps water on Kate, who could win an Academy Award for Best Actress in a Dramatic Screen Play with her alligator tears and wailing. They both come busting into the house, Elisabeth justifying why Kate is crying, Kate wailing at the top of her lungs. They tell me they are done swimming.

It's now 9:05 AM and I am ready to go back to bed. They are constantly "bored" despite having sidewalk chalk, a pool, a sandbox, a trampoline, roller skates, jump ropes, bikes, DVDs, books, Barbies, dress up clothes, an arts and crafts table, puzzles...need I go on?

So much for lazy summer days. I drew up a schedule for them today and told them I am running this like a school...only MUCH longer recesses in which (God help me) if they tell me they are bored, they will be pulling weeds by the driveway. We made up a list of "fun things to do" and they are to consult that if they need ideas. Somehow I grew up on a farm with no TV and yet, I don't ever remember whining to my mom all day that I had nothing to do. I had to can and freeze every fruit and vegetable known to mankind and walk beans and mow the lawn. I tell my hard luck stories to the girls but they fall on deaf ears (sigh).

I will be so happy to see that big yellow bus lumbering to the end of our driveway, I may just plant a big one right on Marvin the Bus Driver's kisser. He'll probably skip my stop from then on but oh well.

Harfing Under the Golden Arches

I'm a little late in posting our vacation adventures. Every other year, we head out with the F family to the Outer Banks of NC for a week long lesson in in-law bonding. This year, we had the blue mini-bus complete with copious amounts of "Veggie Tales" DVDs to make the trip bearable...if 17 hours of driving (and that's just one way) can be even remotely bearable!

The girls got to miss their last three days of school as we loaded up the car on Friday and headed out following Husband's sisters Tracy, Zina, and Tracy's three kids. Elisabeth was complaining of not feeling so well but we passed it off as anxiety/anticipation...until we were at McDonald's (their favorite place - gag!) and Husband made her at least try to eat some of her Happy Meal. She started to get a funny look on her face and then proceeded to throw up everywhere...mostly on her monkey pajamas and my flip flops. A fabulous start to the vacation, for sure!

The week was filled with much time spent in the pool. Black hair and chlorine do not mix so we got out their swim caps (which look hilarious to me every time). Husband brought them into the ocean for the first time and they honed their swimming skills all week by jumping in and out of the pool. Kate had a couple of near drownings as she hasn't figured out which is the deep end until I put her in a Barbie lifejacket and taught her how to get it one herself. At one point, I was having a little "too much vacation" and begged off an all-day trip to Ocracoke so Husband stepped in and took the girls for the day. This picture is what happens when I am not along:

The girls slept on an air mattress above an open ceiling to the living room where much of the activity (late night and early morning) was going on so needless to say, they were so slap backwards in their sleep schedule they didn't know if they were coming or going. We let Elisabeth take a "drug holiday" from her ADHD medication so that only added to the chaos.

All in all, we had a great time with plenty of pictures to remember it by. Elisabeth learned to play video games with Uncle Joe and kept Aunt Dena hopping with several rounds of UNO. Kate and Elisabeth both insisted on using their vacation money to purchase pirate outfits. And I know now that even black skin needs LOADS of sunscreen because while their sunburns do not look red, they can peel quite easily.

We'll mark our calendars, Oh F Family, and do it all again in two years!

Joint Heirs to the Family (Mis)Fortunes

Well, hallelujah! The day finally arrived when we could appear before a judge and formally have our petition for adoption heard. It's a bit anticlimactic after the 14,000 lbs. of paperwork you fill out to get to this point as the judge shuffles through several pages, quietly listing all the different affadavits and reports attached to the petition. The judge's eyes widened as she saw the vast horde of family and friends enter the courtroom. We were so excited to share this day with so many people we love and who have been special in Kate and Elisabeth's life so far (and hopefully for years to come).

Then, our attorney asked us to verify our names, the girls' dates of birth, date of placement, and whether we were satisfied with their health, the adoption assistance we would receive, etc. The part that brought tears to my eyes was when the attorney stated that these two girls were now legally ours with the right to inherit our estate. Makes me think of the Bible verse that talks about us being joint heirs with Christ to a fabulous estate in heaven. Not sure how much of an "estate" will be left to them but they are welcome to any fortune (or misfortunes [ha!]) that come with being a permanent part of our family.

The girls' will have new certificates issued as if we had given birth to them (which is a bit scandalous considering Elisabeth was born before we got married) and they now legally carry our surname. We'll change their social security numbers to protect their previous ones from abuse from former family members who may still have those numbers (something we learned in adoption class that I would not have ever thought of).

We celebrated by going out for a late breakfast, going swimming, getting ice cream, and playing with friends. Elisabeth commented at dinner that she thought it would be more "different" once she got adopted but tonight felt pretty much the same as nights before. That's when I realized perhaps all the times she watched "Annie" had built up an expectation that we'd have a three-ring circus and fireworks after the celebration.

Maybe if I were as rich as Daddy Warbucks. Until then, ice cream and swimming will have to do.

Macarana Roller Derby

Elisabeth turned seven last month and was beside herself with excitement to have a birthday party. She had been talking about her birthday for several months prior (on a daily basis) until I told her that she could no longer talk about it until April 1st. She woke up very sleepily on April 1st, and turned to me in a groggy voice to ask "Is it April yet?" When she found out it was, she said, "I can finally talk about my birthday." She desperately wanted to go to Chuck E. Cheese but Husband has very emphatically stated that he will NEVER go to Chuck E. Cheese for a birthday party (What? Bad pizza and germs build character and disease resistance!)

Elisabeth finally selected roller skating and in order to make sure all the girls could stay overnight, we had over all first cousins. Paige, Courtney, Grace, and Abigail arrived with varying skills at roller skating. Paige was the cautious one, making a single lap at a time, never falling, all with careful balance. Courtney was like a wild bird learning to fly, spending half of her time up and half her time either falling herself or taking someone else out.

Grace was the rookie and spent the first half hour clutching the rails, pulling herself around, never lifting a foot. Abigail was very confident although her skill level was around medium. At one point, as the "Macarana" is blaring over the loud speakers, she informs me that she can do the motions while skating. She proceeds to do the shoulder-shoulder-hip-hip action but forgot about the turn on her skates and promptly wiped out. She was also informing me every round that she had ONLY fallen three times (four times, etc.) but when she got to 13, she quit informing me.

We went out for pizza where each girl got to get their own little pizza. Courtney informed us that she LOVED hot sauce but got a little carried away pouring it on her pizza. It was more like a mound of hot sauce with pizza being the condiment. We saw her suffer through a piece or two then offered some of ours before we had to call the M-town fire department.

Back to our house for my sad attempt at decorating an angel food cake (a tradition from my childhood) and ice cream. As Elisabeth eyed the mound of presents, she gleefully looked at me and said, "So this is what a birthday party is like!"

Later on, I told the girls that they could stay up as long as they wished as long as they were quiet. Their eyes were round as saucers as their mouths fell open...no bedtime? Can it be? They rolled out sleeping bags in front of the TV as "Ella Enchanted" began to play.

I don't know how late they stayed up. I heard the TV still on (infomercials) at 4 AM so I shut it off. The girls were sprawled out, most without covers and some pillows were MIA. I tried my best to get them covered up before crawling back in bed myself.

I would like to say they slept in and were in great moods in the morning but that would be lying. It took Elisabeth two days to recover from lack of sleep but if it's anything like my birthday parties growing up...it was TOTALLY worth it!

Habakkuk Upchuck

The other week, our pastor asked Husband and me if we would share our journey from infertility to instant parenthood as an illustration of his message series on Habakkuk. To be honest, Habakkuk is not a book of the Bible I read often. Okay, I think I read it once very long ago and couldn't tell you what was in it but as I read the 2nd chapter, I found the verses Husband and I would expound on.

I formulated some thoughts in my head as we both prepared for the Sunday message. Husband was up there first and gave his very practical version of the story of us "trying" to start a family, our discovery of the medical reasons why it would be a MAJOR uphill battle, and how he figured God was in control and so he didn't sweat it too much.

I was going to say some things I learned through all this but somehow, returning to that period in my life (which I call "The Lost Years") in my mind about set me over the edge and when my turn came to talk, I dissolved into a fit of weeping and gnashing of teeth. It's a place I don't go to very often because the hell that is infertility is an emotional dross that only those of us who have endured can fully understand.

To add to the rawness of remembering, we found out that the girls' birth mom is pregnant. Again. By yet another man. She's still not married. She still puts her partying exploits on her MySpace page. All the feelings of "unfairness" swept over me again as I parent the children she has not been found fit to raise. Yet, God, in His infinite wisdom, allows her to carry yet another child in her womb. I have some hard questions for God when I see Him.

But this I know...

Out of every heartache, God creates a ministry opportunity. I can look in the eyes of other women who are walking the road of infertility and say, "I've been there". I know what it is like to have your intimate moments scheduled like clockwork, taking all spontenanity out of the event. I know what it is like to wait those two weeks wondering if maybe this time is THE time for everything to work. I know what it is like to try every old wives' tale "just in case" (yes, I have stood on my head).

I know what it is like to inject yourself and pop pills and open the most intimate parts of yourself up to doctors all the while praying with every ounce of your being that God will have mercy on you and bless you. And to find out every month that you still have to wait on God's vision.

This I also know...it is in the darkest moments of your life that your love for God is truly tested. It's easy to love Him when everything is wine and roses. But when you watch your visions and dreams disappear and your arms remain empty yet another Mother's Day...you have to decide whether you will love God for who He is no matter what happens.

I don't know if everything happens for a reason.
I don't know if I'll ever carry a child.
I don't know why God chose this trial for me.
I don't know why the evil prosper and the good suffer.

But this I know...

"Record the vision and inscribe it...that the one who reads it may run. For the vision is yet for the appointed time; It hastens toward the goal and it will not fail. Though it tarries, wait for it; For it will certainly come, it will not delay." Habakkuk 2:2-3

Link to the iTunes recording (our testimony runs from 10:00 until 18:30): http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?i=55555752&id=319453744