Borrowed this from Tina who borrowed it from . . .who borrowed it from . . .anyway, it's going around J-land:
One word
Please leave a one word comment that you think best describes me.
It can only be one word. No more.
Then copy and paste this into your journal so that I may leave a word about you...
Here are the first of the promised pictures of our little home. We're still working on it, but things are beginning to take shape. My first focus was on the kitchen. I wanted kind of a chili pepper theme and chose red to dominate. We still need to paint trim, but have had wonderful luck locating red dishes, pots and pans and appliances. I'm tickled with the result so far.
Rob has been working on the front yard and the grass is greening up. It's so nice to sit out there. We found some good furniture and we've planted a couple of tomatoes and some flowering plants. It's really beginning to feel like home.
Andrea loves her new home. She has a neat yard to play in and a room that we are going to decorate to her specifications. She's picked out colors and has seen a bedspread combination that she likes. We hope to get a computer up and running for her in there as well, though not online just yet. That will need to be supervised.
Next I'll take pictures of the living room and office. The bathroom is in blue and white. Living room furniture blue. Rob loves eagles and we have an eagle corner and the rest of the room is slowly coming around to my way of thinking. The office area is a total mess! We spent a couple of weeks just rrying to get all the computers online. When I have more than a day off at a time, I want to tackle that area.
I love our new home! Yes, we pay rent on it, but having lived as a missionary for so many years, it's nice to have something we can call "ours" We are so comfortable even though there is still a lot of work to do. I think God chose this little haven just for us.
After all, we are His kids.
"Let the little children come to me . . ." Matthew 19:14
Krissy asks us this morning how many hours a day wuld you have to be on your computer to be addicted? UGH!!! I know I am addicted.
In 1986, I had my first experience with a computer. I was at work, and the billing girl taught me how to do her billing for her. Then the boss bought a computer for her home and had me sit at her house taking lessons about how to use it. I was hooked! Remember, this was a time when we just had DOS and a 20 megabyte hard drive was all we'd ever need. We didn't even have color monitors.
It wasn't long before I saw the great benefit of having a computer of my own. I could write letters, keep records and play nifty games as well. It was 1987 before I got my 40 megabyte hard-drive computer and was as happy as I could be. I spent a lot of time writing and playing even back then.
I was living in Mexico by the time I finally go Internet capability We had lots of programs on our upgraded 250 mg - color monitor - Windows 3.1 machine. When I wasn't working with the kids or sleeping, I was on the computer.
You can't imagine my glee when I found our that home computers now had gigabytes of memory!
To make a long story short, my computer goes on in the morning when I get up. I take my laptop to work with me. I also use the laptop while I'm in bed. I love the technology and can't seem to get enough. Although I am not actively on the computer 24 hours a day, I bet my addiction keeps me on about 6 hours each day.
Do I want help for my addiction? Is there a 12-step program you want to send me to? Forget it! I'm not in denial (which is NOT a river in Egypt) - I am absorbed in this wonderful technology.
After reading NICURNmama's tribute, I thought I would share one of my own. Robert and I met at a camp meeting. I was there to present the ministry report and he had come with his pastor. He was smitten with me right away, but I didn't notice. I was busier than a one-armed paper hanger just trying to keep the children's home running smoothly.
The next year, my friend Arlene told me she thought Robert liked me. I just laughed at her and went about my business. I've shared some of this before, but this is the story Robert tells:
"I was single for 30 years and decided to ask the Lord to give me a good, godly woman to share my life with. It would be okay if she had a little family."
Robert had been married years ago and had a baby daughter, Tina Christina. Whatever problems Robert and his wife had, they each loved that precious little girl. Just after they separated, Tina became ill. It was discovered that she had a devastating brain cancer. She was 6 years old when cancer took her life. Because the doctor had questioned him about Agent Orange, Robert spent years believing Tina's death was his fault. He wanted children, bu vowed never to subject another wife and child to the possiblity that he could make his child sick. It was a pretty sad time for him.
But as he got older, he found he missed being a father, so the prospect of marrying a woman with a couple of children was pleasing to him. He persued me and caught me, though I thought he mightn't be ready for a passel of needy Mexican kids. He came to Mexico to visit us and he and the children fell in love with each other.
NOW of course, he tells people that you have to be specific when you make a request of God (you see God has a sense of humor) Rob never set a specific amount of children he wanted. There were thirteen in residence the day we got married. Andrea and a tiny little guy named Poncho walked me down the aisle (Poncho go the job because someone gave him a little tuxedo) and the girls were dressed alike as were the boys.
For the first 2 1/2 years of our marriage, Robert was more father than he really ever planned. He loved the kids, teased them, took them to the places they needed to go and taught them all to pray. Every morning and every night, he would call th kids to prayer and they would all get on their knees in the big room. Prayer requests were given and specifics of prayer learned. Children also used this time to recite
Bible verses and sing songs. Their little hands would shoot up in the air "Me first, Papi!"
Rob asked the Lord for a good woman and maybe some kids. He didn't really know what he was gietting into, but he stepped up to the plate and became the best and for some of the kids the only dad they had ever known.
If I had a way to do it, I nominate this gruff, loving man to be the father of the year. For Andrea and me, he's the father of the century. I don't have a picture tonite to put up of him, but maybe tomorrow I can honor this godly man with a picture.
God could not have chosen a better dad for Andrea or husband for me. Happy
Father's Day, My Love
Here's the Saturday Six from Patrick
1. Do you do a yearly "spring cleaning" in your home? If so, have you done this year's version, yet? Yes, we do. This years version is currently in process!
2. Have you ever been blindfolded and asked to identify which of two drinks is Pepsi or Coke? If you haven't, do you think you could tell the difference? No one has ever blindforlded me, but I could DEFINITELY tell the difference.
3. You find out that you're going to have a child: what baby names will you choose? Robin, Jeremiah, Joshua, Alexis, Angel, Naomi
4. You must become one of the Brady Bunch kids for a single day: which one would you choose to become and why? I'd become Jan because that's the only name I can remember
5. Where are you going for summer vacation this year? No where . . .we spent the money on immigration for our daughter
6. What is the most religious thing you do on a day-to-day basis I pray many times a day
This morning our church's youth are gathered together to have a carwash to earn money for summer camp. I like the idea. It teaches the kids responsibility and they have fun doing it. Andrea dressed in shorts and sandals for the affair and is wearing papa's airport cap. She looks very cute.
I dropped her off in the church parking lot where some cars were already in various stages of wash. With her tickets and money in hand she waved me off with a promise to behave herself. He Sunday School teacher will bring home. I made a quick trip to the store while I was out and on the ride home noticed a couple of the kids with bright neon-colored signs.
My kid is standin' on the corner! She's shouting "Car WASH!!!" This is so great. my little girl is participating in some cool stuff.
I know its not a huge deal to those of you who have raised your children here in the USA, but for Andrea, almost everything is still a new experience. An thusly, it's a new experience for Rob and me as well. It's like being young all over again. Life is so precious and we waste so many moments (at least I do). It's nice to know there's always a chance for a "do over."
Lest you think that my last entry was a downer, please understand that my life was full and complete . . .even without a father. My mother filled my life with love and learning, answering every question I had, comforting every fear. In addition, I had a grandfather (her dad). I've written a little about him in my journal.
Instead of Grandma and Grandpa, we called my mother's parents "Boosie" and "Dearie". My grandmother's name was Ruth (or Ruthie) but a neighbor kid couldn't pronounce that so she be came Boosie. Dearie got his name because the called each other dearie.
My grandfather was an engineer and an inventor. He liked to make things work better. To that end, he invented a machine that is still in use today for baking bread. It's a commercial machine for bakeries that holds many loaves for the whole process. He sold the rights to this machine probably before I was born. One of my fondest memories is playing with a game he invented which we called "9's" There were 2" cylinders of clear plastic with numbers sort of like those on a die. It's been so long since I played the game that I can't really remember now exactly how it worked. I believe that one of my sisters still has those game pieces.
Some of my best early memories include my grandparents. They were very involved in the church and seemed to be well liked by everyone. My grandfather was a man who loved his family and wife without reservation and I honestly don't remember ever hearing him criticize or shame anyone.
So please, dear reader, think not that I despair of having a father. I am a woman who has been truly blessed by a loving family.
My son John asked us to tell about our dads. Like my own children, I am the product of divorce. Unlike my son, I have not even one intersting story to share about my father. I got over it a long time ago, but the only dad I ever had was in my imagination. My natural father gave me nothing but disappointment.
My father was a man unable to handle the resposibility of a wife and 4 daughters (it's a tough job for anyone). He remarried and had a so-so life. I wish he could have had it better.
I have the utmost respect for most dads. It's all on the dad for so much of life. Generally, he is the breadwinner and has less time to spend with his family than he deserves, but he makes the best of it.
I could give you example after example of dads I've met that top the mark. When I was a little girl, my best friend Becky lived right next door. Every day, her father would get off the bus, walk the half block home with his briefcase in hand and sweep his hat off his head, opening both arms as Becky would run down the driveway to him. I saw that act of love every day. I loved Becky's dad, too. He was the closest thing I had to a dad and the ideal I placed in my mind from then on out. He wasn't a "TV" dad like on Father Knows Best, but a real person who loved and cared for his family.
I know things have changed and times have changed, but the love a father has for his family is as real now as ever. I know this because I'm part of the family of God and my Father loves me and all of his children all day, every day.
I'm so glad Andrea doesn't read my journal. Actually, it's tough getting her to read anything! So I can say what's on my mind without fear of embarrassing her to death.
My little baby girl is growing up! Maturing! Becoming a young lady!!! What did I get myself into? She's getting bumps on her front and shape to her waist and behind. Now we have to have thre first "talk" You know the one, don't you? The monthly visitor talk. Ugh!
We started the talk this morning, but Andrea wasn't quite comprehending what would happen. She asked if she did something wrong? Was that why? No, it happens to all girls somewhere between the ages of 10 and 15. She asked if we couldn't talk about this when she's 15. I told her no, that some things shouldn't be left as a surprise. She thinks the whole thing is yucky!
So tonite we go out onto the Internet in search of something that will give her better understanding than my lame explanations and crudely drawn pictures of a woman's reproductive systems.
HELP!!! I'm too old to be doing this again!
From Patrick's Place I'm going to try the Saturday Six again:
1. When was the last time you looked your significant other in the eye and told him or her how much they mean to you? Just this morning.
2. Which business do you have the longest continuous relationship with: your bank, your auto insurance provider, your home telephone provider, your cellular phone provider, or your cable company? How long have you been with them? My bank - I think this one is nearing 17 years now.
3. What is the most embarrassing question you've ever been asked? When is the baby due?
4. You have the ability to snap your fingers and be instantly transported to one of three places whenever you wish to go there. Which three places would you select as your destinations? Yosemite National Park, The Yucatan Peninsula, Key West, Florida
5. Last week, the Reader's Choice question asked you to identify your favorite movie line. Later this month, the American Film Institute will list the 100 Greatest Movie Lines of all time. Which one do you expect to win? "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."
6. You are given the gift of an original oil painting by any famous artist. What painting would you choose and why? I honestly don't know whose work I would choose, but it would most likely be scenery with flowers in it.
I can't believe this has happened1 I stayed home for a while this morning so I could go with Andrea for her last parent/advsor meeting of this school year. We turned in her work, got books for the summer and had a little chat with the teacher. I drove Andrea home, grabbed a bologna sandwich and headed off to work. The bird had a fit because I was leaving again, but he'll see me tonite.
I've been at work less than 2 hours and Rob has called twice. The first time, he was upset. Andrea was cleaning her room (I asked her to do it) and moved her bed some and broke the window. He said she had a small cut on her elbow, but was otherwise okay. He was not at all happy. I understand, because we will have to pay to fix the window . . .but . . . accidents happen and I told him so.
The second call was more concerned. Apparently, she fell through the window and had cut both elbows and her butt. He wasn't quite sure how to handle this . . .she's at an age where daddy fixing the boo-boo on her bottom is a sensitive issue. I told him to bring her out to me and I would fix her up.
They arrived about 30 minutes later, bag of first-aid supplies and a change of clothes in hand. Andrea is limping. I took her into the kitchen and cleaned up both elbows - one is very minor, the other a little deeper. Then I had her bare her bottom for a look-see. Her pants and panties were full of blood and I had to peel away a paper towel to see the wound, which was fairly deep. After cleaning, I put a pretty professional looking butterfly on and then a big telfa bandage. Poor kid! She looks like the walking wounded, but will survive.
I told him to take her home and let her take a nap. She probably will, because I gave her an Advil. Her bed is full of glass, so she'll have to lie on the couch until we get it cleaned up. Rob feels pretty bad about yelling at her for breaking the window, but since she's all right and the window is replaceable, his hugs will help more than anything.
Boring day at work? I still have nearly 4 hours to go . . .
It's Tuesday and I'm getting ready to go to work. Andrea has a picnic or something with some other homeschool kids today and tomorrow is our last meeting with the teacher/advisor for this school year. Time has really flown by!
I've been working about 2 months now and I'm pretty happy doing that. It feels good to go into the office, do work and get paid for it. It's been a vey long time since I did that. I think the last time was like 1987.
Not that I wasn't doing something! I was caring for kids in Mexico. I miss that sometimes. Well, a lot. Not the work, but the kids. I doubt that I could handle it anymore. 20 to 30 kids living with you can be quite a handful. Many times their personalities clash and they fight. It seems there's always some kid in tears. I guess that's life anywhere.
Sometimes I will look at a mom with a baby or toddler and get all emotional. I want one. Then I remember that it's not all cute and fun. You become responsible to see that they grow up right. That's what we are doing with Andrea. One is enough now. Most of our peers are done with that and are having fun with their grandkids. Not us. Not my sister Sharon, either. She's raising he granddaughter. We have more in common now than ever!
I guess I'm just rambling. The passage of time has done that to me. I spend more time thinking about stuff. Not worrying, mind you - what good does that do? Thinks always work out. I spend more time thinking about God and my relationship with Him. I regret some of my past, but can't change it and He's forgiven me even if I haven't and others haven't. I can live with that. The truth is, though have some regrets, I wouldn't change a thing. I like who I am today and all of that has molded me into this.
I just wish someone else could benefit from my mistakes. Doesn't happen often. We all have to make our own errors in judgement.
I hope you all have a good day. Be blessed in the Lord, my friends.
My! My! My! It's been an incredibly long time since I've posted to my journal. I can't believe this! and I have so much to say . . .
Yesterday was my son Robert's birthday. He was 40 years old. You can learn more about Bob and me on my other journal. He's a special kind of son for me. You see, I gave birth to him when I was 16 years old. There's not enough room here to tell the story, but suffice it to say: you can get pregnant the very first time!
I dreaded and looked forward to his birth. I was terrified because I truly was just a little girl. I know 16 year-olds today are really mature, but I was far from that. I still wanted to play with dolls. I also wanted what all teens want - to be grown up. I just went about it all bass-ackwards.
The night Robert was born, I lay in a very dark room laboring hard. I felt very alone and wanted my mom. Things were happening to me that I'd been taugt about but couldn't really understand. A nurse would pop in from time to time and check on my progress. She didn't even bother to turn the light on. At some point, she came in and put me on a gurney and rolled me into the other room. The lights there were so bright! Someone made me roll on my side and they injected my back with something and I lost all feeling from my bellybutton to my toes. The doctor pushed on my belly and out came a little boy. I wasn't allowed to lift my head to look at him. They whisked him off and the doctor finished his work with me and out I went.
Next day, I wept like a baby. I wanted to see my son! I knew I was going to give him up for adoption, but I wanted to see who I gave birth to. It wasn't allowed. We had to lay flat for 36 hours. I told my mom and sister I just couldn't give him away. I cried more. They cried. They said it was my decision. Later in the day, a nurse came in and proudly announced, "Your SON weighed 6 lbs 13 oz and is 19 inches long." That made it worse! I spent a miserable night.
Next day, I was allowed to walk to the nursery to see him. He was beautiful! He looked like our family. I still say he was the best looking one in the nursery. I was proud.
Because I had agreed to put him up for adoption, he would be taken from the hospital one day ahead of me. Even if I changed my mind, this would happen. So when they got ready to take him, I was told I could go and hold him.
The hallway seemed very long, the holding room small. Once there, I was handed a baby in a yellow blanket. I unwrapped him and looked at his fingers and toes (they were tiny but beautiful) and even checked his diaper to see that all the equipment was there. He was soft and every time I touched his face, he would turn toward my hand. I felt a bit detached. All the emotion I'd had right after his birth was spent. I knew that there was no way I could care for him. I knew I had to let him go . . .
For years I wondered who he had become, but believed that his privacy was of the utmost. I would never have looked for him, but when he reached majority, I would make myself available if he looked for me.
He looked. Before it was time, he looked. He found me. I was given a gift by God. He has a great family. Actually, he has a bunch of family! He has the family who adopted him, and those of us who let him go. He's found us all.
If that's not a miracle, I don't know what is. Space and time separates us, but heart-strings can't be cut.
Thank you, God.
Happy Birthday, Son. I love you.
