I saw my friend Catherine in line ahead of me to check Daniel in for Sunday school yesterday. She looked at me, I looked at her, we both sighed. No words needed. And then I made the statement, " Going to church with children is not for the faint of heart."
I think I remember the days when leaving the house was simple. I believe my routine used to go like this, awaken after a full nights sleep, get up, take a shower, drink coffee, eat breakfast, blow dry my locks, curl said locks, apply precision make up, IRON clothes, (I think I may have done that 18 years ago), wear said pressed clothes in very small sizes, put on lovely shoes, boots, whatever, run out the door, jump in car, tool about to church.
I think those things occurred, its been so long now, it seems as if maybe that is something I made up.
My Sunday a.m. had one goal in mind. Get to the 9a.m. service because I wanted to get home early, make dinner, so we could all eat before getting our Christmas Tree. I like the earlier service because there is usually less children in Daniel's class and he is fresh, less prone to a melt down when I leave him, which means there is no Mommy melt down I have to recover from the first 10 minutes of service while trying to "worship".
Mistake #1 Thinking that giving a boy a bath who detests baths would be a good idea on a morning I needed to be out the door by 8:30a.m. Lets just say both Carl and I were traumatized by the whole event, we still can't figure out why this kid hates baths. sigh. But suffice to say, both the boy and I were crying by the time is was over.
Mistake #2 Planning on getting a Christmas Tree.... Why do I attempt to plan anything that includes 5 people that have to come to an agreement that said activity will occur. My dear friend Aleyne posted recently about simply "giving up" with the massive amt. of decorating and such because of how difficult it can be to get everyone to help, agree, etc, I totally got her blog yesterday. I am like, forget it folks, just forget it.
Mistake #3 Coming into church late, because said boy did not want me to leave his class, coupled with the fact I was late getting him into Sunday School, due to said bath & trauma. The sanctuary is completely dark, only the stage is lit up where the singers are... The usher, very nice young man says to me, there are a couple of seats 2 rows from the back I can show you too. OH, is there anything down front? I have an attention span of a kindergartner. hehehehe, giggle. He takes me to the VERY FRONT ROW of the church. Is there anyone sitting in that front row?? Obviously NOT. There I sit, alone, in the very front row of the church. yup. that'll learn ya. is what I am thinking. no possible way to be distracted, except for the fact I am in the front row, alone. sigh.
I get home, make dinner, and nothing goes right after that. Suffice to say, Life is not for the Faint of Heart with Children, Infants, Toddlers, Teenagers. It simply is not. I posted today that I would give my self a generous 90% of loving the life of being parent. I had a 10% day yesterday. Yearning for the simplicity of my early years of marriage, the coming and going as I pleased. The working to make money, HAVING money to spend on whatever without a thought.
And then my dear sweet husband takes me to McDonalds for our weekly "date". We have mastered what we call the $8 dollar date or less. We even had coupons for our latte and white chocolate, which, that date costs us $2.50. After a church service Carl decided one Sunday we definately needed time alone on a regular basis, thus came the $8 date. We are becoming really good at it!!!!
So, I would conclude with the question I have asked myself so many times over the past 19 years of parenting. Why? Why do I do it? Why do I bring my kids to church? Why bother. Its hard, annoying at times, they dont like it, esp the being left part, why? Well, at 2:30a.m. I came up with an answer. Because, I want God to part of their reality. Can you get this without leaving your doorstep? Sure. I am sure you can. But somehow, the consistency of setting aside a day, Sunday for us, to go to church, despite the work of it, makes it special. I was headed to church 4 days after giving birth to Kristen. I was headed to church 3 days after giving birth to Elizabeth, with a toddling 2 year old in tow, thinking I would have to do it alone, accept my husband got up that morning and said, I will help you, no matter what my faith is currently. And with Daniel, he was 2 weeks old, we sat down front, never worried about how loud the music was, he always slept through it. no biggie. I get this internal "check" if you will when I begin to doubt the sanity of this. But when my daughters are reading the word with out prompting, or they are asking me to order them a Bible study, or they are making moral choices based on their faith, even though they are not surrounded by necessarily Christian values all day. Or when Daniel can actually tell me the Bible story he heard. Or simply, you know Mom, Jesus does love me, no matter what. I know its the right thing to do, this crazy Sunday morning thing.
Sunday morning then translates in Monday, which goes in Tuesday, and Wednesday, and beyond. Thats the life goal of believing and serving, right?
So, I made it through the horrible, bad, no good, day. But, as I reflect, it was neither, horrible or bad. It was developing in me my need for time alone with God, which I did before I went to bed. It made me realize how thankful I am for my husband who stays calm when I am cursing in the bathroom, sorry hon. That I can do the days, whether they be "90% days or 10% days". It can be all good.
So here's to honesty! I am living A Blessed Mess.
and I still have my sanity.
xo, Julie
Monday, December 9, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
6 and 1/2 years. and now I am done forever.
I know for many Moms, this is a very short time. I have one friend who had 9 children, so I am guessing she has between 16 to 18 years in. What am I talking about???? Breastfeeding. I know, I just lost some of you. Thats okay. For the ones who love it, keep reading, because you will understand what I am talking about.
In the beginning I was absolutely NOT going to breastfeed. I remember sitting at my friend Debbie McMorrans house for dinner, Carl and I were in the midst of hoping for a pregnancy that was far too long in the making, and Debbie brought up breastfeeding. She asked me if I was planning on it. Carl quickly responded, oh absolutely. Its the best thing for any child, yeah, she's doing that. I looked over at him, and gave him the hairy eyeball. I am NOT doing that! I think its gross, I dont want to expose myself, eww ick, no way, where did you get that idea I would do something like that??? Debbie persisted, Oh Julie, you will love it. I know you will. Its awesome, and such bonding. You will love it, I know you will. Awkward silence followed. I remember getting home that afternoon and asking Carl, why would you think I would WANT to do that? I mean really. You don't know me at all.
I know some of you reading this who know me now can't believe I felt this way. Since I am almost borderline obnoxious in my passion about breastfeeding. I have toned it down a bit, but, make no mistake, I am passionate about it and if I could train and coach every woman into it, my life would be beyond how worthwhile I view it already.
I remember my very first friend in college, Lynn, breastfeeding. I went to her apartment right after she got home from having the baby, Staria. Lynn and Craig were vegetarians, and my first thought was I need to bring them food. So, in my yet to be established cooking regiment, I brought over 2 cans of corn chowder, and we proceeded to heat it up in a glass bowl in the microwave, and I brought my Moms bread. We ooohed and aahhed over the baby, and they she started to fuss. Lynn very casually began to feed her. I had NEVER seen a baby be nursed before. I was so curious, like what are you doing to that kid???? I had not a clue. I remember Carl being very proud of Lynn. Then another friend at college, Vicki, had twins. I went over to University Park and saw the babies, and she was nursing twins!!!! I could not get over it. Now, these weren't seasoned Moms, these were 20 and 21 year old girls, ladies. Girls. Going to UMaine, one in nursing, one in history, married, girls. They began to lay a great foundation for me, an understanding I never had. IT was beautiful.
My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage, and I cannot tell you how devastating that was. I remember going to the alter at our church and just sobbing, and my pastor and his wife praying with us. But then, finally, I got pregnant with Kristen!!! I prayed every single day for that baby growing inside me to be healthy. That long 9 months changed my heart. Each day I prayed for her, and the best for her, wanting to hold her, and kiss her little face, my heart was also softening to the idea of breastfeeding. By the time she was born, I was mush, my midwife helped her latch on, and thus began our journey.
I would love to tell you I had loads of support for this endeavor, but I did not. No support group at EMMC. My Mom (whom I loved dearly, but bottle fed only) telling me, well, you may not be able to do it, or didn't she just eat? Why are you feeding her again? Oh you can't do that in front of Ray, please go into a bedroom. At one point, my current brother in law, who was very quiet said to my sister, Why isn't Julie nuts yet? Your mother does not leave her alone to be a Mom. I'm nuts listening to it. He said, its like someone else has moved into Julie's body, she's so calm.
And I was calm. I had made my mind up. I was doing this thing that I was grossed out by years prior.
I was empowered by those sweet college friends who had shared their experience with me.
I wanted this baby to live and thrive and I made up my mind to do it.
And, lets not forget, its free. always thinking, that frugal husband of mine.
Kristen loved to nurse. She would nurse for 45 mins, then stop, then want to again in a hour. I just went with it. Go with the flow was my new motto. But what about Dr. Spock????? my mother would say to me. I never fed you girls that much and you turned out just fine. You Need A Schedule. Dr. Spock this and Dr. Spock that. To hell with Dr.Spock. but back then I would have never said anything like that to my mother, I would just nod, smile, and keep on feeding the baby. You have to put her down sometime! Are you kidding me??? I waited 2 years for this blessing, I will hold her as much as I want. smile, nod, would you like to hold her Mom?
Elizabeth came along, and what a different nursing baby. She was fast and efficient. 7 mins and 7 mins. done. I am not kidding. I could not believe it. I thought, how is she going to gain weight? 20lbs by 6 months, 2 lbs heavier at the same age as her sister. Go figure. Again, I went with the flow, fed when she wanted, all was good.
Then comes the Daniel boy. Great latch in the hospital. But he was definately different. If there was ever a term of "lazy nurser" I would call him that. He was very easy going. Was never demanding, I was the one who constantly offered him to feed. And not a strong latch at all, but this little bugger was 22 lbs by 6 months old, so he was loving life as well.
Six and a half years between all 3 kids.
If I live to be 90, it will have been not quite 8% of my life was given to feeding my children from my own body. Comforting them, consoling them when teething or not feeling well, feeding their thirst. I am a big comfort nurser as well. I figure, when my life is said and done, I want to be known as a comfortable place for my children to go when they are sad, hungry, need prayer or support. I am their cheerleader. I am their giver of life.
I fed my children from my own making of milk.
Its beautiful. It hurts. It is painful at times. This feeding thing. Its inconvenient. Its lonely. It was a trust thing between God and me. I remember praying, God, you made me, you made them, now help me to do this.
And He Did. What I didn't know then was, this is life with children, toddlers, teenagers, college students. These needs don't change, they just look different as my kids have aged. Great life lessons I learned while breastfeeding.
I remember the days it took for my colostrum to turn to milk. Born Tuesday, Midnight Friday. Kristen Born Wednesday, Midnight Friday. Elizabeth. Born Tuesday, Friday Morning. Daniel. Guess what? Fridays were hard days. Thursday Night, hard nights. Praying, okay God, any time now, any time...... Bone weary exhaustion. Like nothing else. Not only did I give birth, I am making food. Lots of food for this hungry child.
Not that I was going for the cover of Time Magazine or anything :) but I decided, lets just see how this thing plays out with Daniel. I had talked to my friend Amy, who was lengthy nursing Mom, (how do you like that term) and she said her daughter up and stopped on her own at age 2 and 1/2. My friend Carolyn said oh, boys love to nurse, Nathaniel did it until age 3 and 1/2, and finally, one of my sister in laws said, oh just do it as long as he wants, I am NOT telling you how long my last baby did it.
Well, I think it happened maybe a week or so ago, he stopped nursing.
We had gotten into the habit of laying in bed and reading together before nap, then he would just cuddle next to me and fall asleep. Or at night, he would cuddle with me on the couch and fall asleep and we put him in his bed. On Thanksgiving, I said to Carl, I don't remember the last time he nursed. It makes me a bit teary eyed, but Carl said, well, It was his timing. He's done, but you are his world. He needs you for other things.
I love my husband. He has always been my support in this area. He's never been weird about breastfeeding ever. He loves when he sees other women feeding their babies. He never put limitations on me. Just support. Do what you feel, honey. You are doing a great job. Listen to the babies, they know when they are hungry. Let them eat. He is probably one of the most unselfish men I know of when it comes to his Dad role. Sometimes we have simply had the energy to hug each other. Thats it. and say I love you. And that was enough. It doesn't last, that tiredness, but to have his support, love, encouragement. I couldn't have done it without him. His role was critical in this journey.
So, I am done. Forever. No more nursing. No more sweet breath. No more skin on skin contact with my babies. Sigh. But guess what? There's more to come. Way More. And I don't want to miss any of it.
I can't wait to support my own daughters and their someday husbands in their parenting journeys. And I will bite my tongue and not tell them what to do, I will wait for them to ask. That is my promise, they have it in writing, now!
And my Daniel boy. Who will become a man someday and have his own family. I will do the same. I promise, Daniel.
Thank you to all my breastfeeding Mentors, Thank you to the love and support that was given to me by my family, and Thank you to God for allowing me to be a Mom, the best thing next to marriage that has ever happened to me.
Blessed in this Nest.
Julie, Mom of Kristen Hope, Elizabeth Grace, and Daniel Joseph.
In the beginning I was absolutely NOT going to breastfeed. I remember sitting at my friend Debbie McMorrans house for dinner, Carl and I were in the midst of hoping for a pregnancy that was far too long in the making, and Debbie brought up breastfeeding. She asked me if I was planning on it. Carl quickly responded, oh absolutely. Its the best thing for any child, yeah, she's doing that. I looked over at him, and gave him the hairy eyeball. I am NOT doing that! I think its gross, I dont want to expose myself, eww ick, no way, where did you get that idea I would do something like that??? Debbie persisted, Oh Julie, you will love it. I know you will. Its awesome, and such bonding. You will love it, I know you will. Awkward silence followed. I remember getting home that afternoon and asking Carl, why would you think I would WANT to do that? I mean really. You don't know me at all.
I know some of you reading this who know me now can't believe I felt this way. Since I am almost borderline obnoxious in my passion about breastfeeding. I have toned it down a bit, but, make no mistake, I am passionate about it and if I could train and coach every woman into it, my life would be beyond how worthwhile I view it already.
I remember my very first friend in college, Lynn, breastfeeding. I went to her apartment right after she got home from having the baby, Staria. Lynn and Craig were vegetarians, and my first thought was I need to bring them food. So, in my yet to be established cooking regiment, I brought over 2 cans of corn chowder, and we proceeded to heat it up in a glass bowl in the microwave, and I brought my Moms bread. We ooohed and aahhed over the baby, and they she started to fuss. Lynn very casually began to feed her. I had NEVER seen a baby be nursed before. I was so curious, like what are you doing to that kid???? I had not a clue. I remember Carl being very proud of Lynn. Then another friend at college, Vicki, had twins. I went over to University Park and saw the babies, and she was nursing twins!!!! I could not get over it. Now, these weren't seasoned Moms, these were 20 and 21 year old girls, ladies. Girls. Going to UMaine, one in nursing, one in history, married, girls. They began to lay a great foundation for me, an understanding I never had. IT was beautiful.
My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage, and I cannot tell you how devastating that was. I remember going to the alter at our church and just sobbing, and my pastor and his wife praying with us. But then, finally, I got pregnant with Kristen!!! I prayed every single day for that baby growing inside me to be healthy. That long 9 months changed my heart. Each day I prayed for her, and the best for her, wanting to hold her, and kiss her little face, my heart was also softening to the idea of breastfeeding. By the time she was born, I was mush, my midwife helped her latch on, and thus began our journey.
I would love to tell you I had loads of support for this endeavor, but I did not. No support group at EMMC. My Mom (whom I loved dearly, but bottle fed only) telling me, well, you may not be able to do it, or didn't she just eat? Why are you feeding her again? Oh you can't do that in front of Ray, please go into a bedroom. At one point, my current brother in law, who was very quiet said to my sister, Why isn't Julie nuts yet? Your mother does not leave her alone to be a Mom. I'm nuts listening to it. He said, its like someone else has moved into Julie's body, she's so calm.
And I was calm. I had made my mind up. I was doing this thing that I was grossed out by years prior.
I was empowered by those sweet college friends who had shared their experience with me.
I wanted this baby to live and thrive and I made up my mind to do it.
And, lets not forget, its free. always thinking, that frugal husband of mine.
Kristen loved to nurse. She would nurse for 45 mins, then stop, then want to again in a hour. I just went with it. Go with the flow was my new motto. But what about Dr. Spock????? my mother would say to me. I never fed you girls that much and you turned out just fine. You Need A Schedule. Dr. Spock this and Dr. Spock that. To hell with Dr.Spock. but back then I would have never said anything like that to my mother, I would just nod, smile, and keep on feeding the baby. You have to put her down sometime! Are you kidding me??? I waited 2 years for this blessing, I will hold her as much as I want. smile, nod, would you like to hold her Mom?
Elizabeth came along, and what a different nursing baby. She was fast and efficient. 7 mins and 7 mins. done. I am not kidding. I could not believe it. I thought, how is she going to gain weight? 20lbs by 6 months, 2 lbs heavier at the same age as her sister. Go figure. Again, I went with the flow, fed when she wanted, all was good.
Then comes the Daniel boy. Great latch in the hospital. But he was definately different. If there was ever a term of "lazy nurser" I would call him that. He was very easy going. Was never demanding, I was the one who constantly offered him to feed. And not a strong latch at all, but this little bugger was 22 lbs by 6 months old, so he was loving life as well.
Six and a half years between all 3 kids.
If I live to be 90, it will have been not quite 8% of my life was given to feeding my children from my own body. Comforting them, consoling them when teething or not feeling well, feeding their thirst. I am a big comfort nurser as well. I figure, when my life is said and done, I want to be known as a comfortable place for my children to go when they are sad, hungry, need prayer or support. I am their cheerleader. I am their giver of life.
I fed my children from my own making of milk.
Its beautiful. It hurts. It is painful at times. This feeding thing. Its inconvenient. Its lonely. It was a trust thing between God and me. I remember praying, God, you made me, you made them, now help me to do this.
And He Did. What I didn't know then was, this is life with children, toddlers, teenagers, college students. These needs don't change, they just look different as my kids have aged. Great life lessons I learned while breastfeeding.
I remember the days it took for my colostrum to turn to milk. Born Tuesday, Midnight Friday. Kristen Born Wednesday, Midnight Friday. Elizabeth. Born Tuesday, Friday Morning. Daniel. Guess what? Fridays were hard days. Thursday Night, hard nights. Praying, okay God, any time now, any time...... Bone weary exhaustion. Like nothing else. Not only did I give birth, I am making food. Lots of food for this hungry child.
Not that I was going for the cover of Time Magazine or anything :) but I decided, lets just see how this thing plays out with Daniel. I had talked to my friend Amy, who was lengthy nursing Mom, (how do you like that term) and she said her daughter up and stopped on her own at age 2 and 1/2. My friend Carolyn said oh, boys love to nurse, Nathaniel did it until age 3 and 1/2, and finally, one of my sister in laws said, oh just do it as long as he wants, I am NOT telling you how long my last baby did it.
Well, I think it happened maybe a week or so ago, he stopped nursing.
We had gotten into the habit of laying in bed and reading together before nap, then he would just cuddle next to me and fall asleep. Or at night, he would cuddle with me on the couch and fall asleep and we put him in his bed. On Thanksgiving, I said to Carl, I don't remember the last time he nursed. It makes me a bit teary eyed, but Carl said, well, It was his timing. He's done, but you are his world. He needs you for other things.
I love my husband. He has always been my support in this area. He's never been weird about breastfeeding ever. He loves when he sees other women feeding their babies. He never put limitations on me. Just support. Do what you feel, honey. You are doing a great job. Listen to the babies, they know when they are hungry. Let them eat. He is probably one of the most unselfish men I know of when it comes to his Dad role. Sometimes we have simply had the energy to hug each other. Thats it. and say I love you. And that was enough. It doesn't last, that tiredness, but to have his support, love, encouragement. I couldn't have done it without him. His role was critical in this journey.
So, I am done. Forever. No more nursing. No more sweet breath. No more skin on skin contact with my babies. Sigh. But guess what? There's more to come. Way More. And I don't want to miss any of it.
I can't wait to support my own daughters and their someday husbands in their parenting journeys. And I will bite my tongue and not tell them what to do, I will wait for them to ask. That is my promise, they have it in writing, now!
And my Daniel boy. Who will become a man someday and have his own family. I will do the same. I promise, Daniel.
Thank you to all my breastfeeding Mentors, Thank you to the love and support that was given to me by my family, and Thank you to God for allowing me to be a Mom, the best thing next to marriage that has ever happened to me.
Blessed in this Nest.
Julie, Mom of Kristen Hope, Elizabeth Grace, and Daniel Joseph.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
This Camel Had Her Final Straw
We all have that Moment. We carry on enjoying life for the most part, finding the good in every day life, noticing the miracles all around us in our children, husband, or friends. But we all have stuff. What I mean by "stuff" is those things we don't share with others. Those situations or relationships that we just hope we can pray them away, or hope things will turn out better. We may have illness of a loved one we are plowing through, and unexpected debt has settled on us, or kids who are just requiring more prayers that we can say on any given day. Its "stuff". And for me, I share my "stuff" with only a chosen few. I have loads of friends, but they don't all want or need to hear my "stuff". I prefer to stuff my stuff, hoping for a brighter day, because I do have so much good to focus on.
The Moment Came.
I was heading out the door with two arm fulls of Bible studies I was bringing to my sister-in-laws house as she wanted to look through what I had studied to help in making a decision about what she might like to study next. My daughter Kristen was waiting to be brought to the grocery store to get much needed M&M's to aide her in the evenings studies and a simple calculator that she assured me could be bought at a grocery store "for a dollar or so" as it was so basic it could not cost more than that. Kristen was in the car waiting, I was bringing out loads of Bible studies, arms beyond full, I put my cell phone in my pocket, could feel the key in the same pocket. phew, there it was. Finally got into the drivers side and pulled out the cell phone, only to find no key. WHAT? Where the heck is that thing??? I ran inside, I was running out of time if I was going to be in Old Town by 6:30 p.m., get this kid to the grocery store and back then leave. I made a quick sweep of the kitchen. No Way. No key.
I go into the back room where Scooby Doo is blaring. Anyone seen the key or picked it up? Nope. Carl gives me this look, you did not loose the key did you??? I give him the teenager eyeroll. I mean, really. I did not loose it, I know I had it. Come on, give me a break. I quickly looked over all the surfaces in the house where it might be. There are not that many places I had gone. I had come home from the eye docs, went into the kitchen, noticed it was a mess, cleaned it up, loaded the dishwasher, started making dinner. I did not go far.
At one point in the evening as I knew I was going nowhere I went outside on my hands and knees looking for the key under the van. I said, For real God, if we dont fiind these keys, I am done with You.
Yup, I said that to God about loosing those keys.
oh boy.
My faith is usually not that shallow, but it has been tested to say the least in the past year.
The Key was the Straw for this Camel's Back.
It was.
I continued to look until I went to bed. I went to bed with this key weighing on me. I would like to say it was the only thing weighing on me, but apparently not if I was willing to Curse God and Die over the key.
I would love to say I was this evolved Christian who never worried. Who went to bed each and every night and enjoyed 8 hours of blissful restful sleep. Never happens. Let me tell you that I know all the right things to do. I do. And, for the most part I practice them. But, let me tell you, until you experience true heartbreak over hearts broken, there in nothing but time that heals the wounds and it seems as if I have entered a season where my heart gets broken and needs time to heal. I am not a quick healer.
I woke up at 4 a.m. with a broken heart. I was heavy in spirit and I knew it. And to top it off, the key was still lost. I tried to sleep, but soon after 5 a.m. I was greeted with Mom, I need cereal, lets go eat cereal. I am sooooooo tired, but I get up, make coffee, start my day.
I have my feet in 2 worlds. The world of my 3 year old, who is physically demanding, and the world of two teenage daughters that is emotionally demanding. There are moments when all I can do is sit and drink my coffee, take a deep breath, and pray. that simply has to be enough.
Except on my broken back days.
I quickly realized this morning I need more. I sat at the table and cried to my husband. I did not know anyone was listening,I thought we were the only ones up, that and the Scooby Doo addict who was occupied with....Scooby Doo. But apparently not. I got my coffee, went up to my bedroom, laid on the bed, and cried some more. Carl got ready for work, as did the girls. I stayed in my room.
One of my daughters entered the bedroom as I began to get off the bed. She put her arms out to me to give me a hug. She hugged me and did not pull away. She began to cry. I am sooo sorry Mom. I am so sorry. We cried together. No daughter, I am sorry. I am sorry for sooo many things I simply can't talk about right now, but I will accept this hug. It was a healing moment. I don't forget these.
I began tearing the kitchen apart, cupboards, baskets at the door, radiators, anything to find this key.
Mom called. Mom, I simply can't take it. Its too much. Life is just too much. I can't do this. Everything, nothing, I cant. Well, you can't do everything, but God can give you strength to do what you can. She prayed with me on the phone. I cried some more. Now, I fully expect to hear you have found this key. By 2:30p.m. Mom doesn't mess around.
I went outside One More Time. I felt like I had been outside 100 times looking in my small driveway, under the vehicles, I even lifted the covering on the motorcycle. I glances at the grass and saw something shining. I bent down and pulled a fork out of the grass covered in sand. Then I thought, what if this key is hiding? Where would it hide? I bent down again, looking around my steps. I have 2 flower pots near my door way. One is placed on the first step going up the stairs. I look at that pot of dirt and white flowers. I see something silver in the pot. I look closer, and what do you know, I see my black van key. Can you believe that?
It was around 1:30.
How do like that Mom? God was early. Amazing.
Fortunately, God did not take me up on my offer.
He sees my imperfect life and loves me anyway.
Knowing I will have more back breaking moments, but knowing I won't go it alone.
Blessed in this Imperfect but Beautiful Nest.
Love, Julie
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
I know what I know. thats it.
I know what I know because I have experienced it.
Not because I read it in a book, or am trying to follow some far reaching role model in my life.
But because I think I know, because I trust my instincts.
I thought I knew some things, but I was very wrong. I felt I had been duped and deceived by people I had trusted, but they were not worthy of my trust, and I had absolutely no idea, none. So I began to question my experience, my ability to discern truth from fiction, my "radar", my "mom sense". I wanted retribution. I wanted to make those involved to see how wrong they were. I did not want anyone getting away with anything that would cause someone else harm. What if others didn't know? What if the same thing happened to them and I stood by and said nothing. When is it considered gossip or letting someone know the skinny so they wont fall prey?
I said to my husband, while I was Praying, they were preying. How ironic is that???
Living in this world is a balancing act between
Love and hate.
Believing or Questioning.
Lying and Truth.
Let go or Hold On.
Intervene or Sit Back and Wait.
Throw in the Towel or Keep Fighting.
Character or Charm
Momentary "Magic" or Lifetime commitment.
As I was running around the track this morning, I said to God, where were you when.........? Did you not see???? Did you not know, I mean, you are God, right? What are you trying to do to me? You know how deep my love is. I don't fake this life. I am not a con artist. I put it all out there. I love generously, and I feel as if you are showing me I don't have a clue.
And then I felt a nudging in my spirit, Read Psalm 139. go on, read it. I am not far away.
verse 2 you know when I sit and when I rise.
verse 3 you know when I go out and when I lie down
verse 4 before I speak a word, you know what I will say
verse 5 you hem me in, you go before and behind me
verse 7 I can't get away from your spirit
verse 16 All the days were ordained for me before one of them came to be.
I did cry on the track. I had one more lap to go. I did the lap, crying. Crying because I hate the feelings of hurt. I hate being taken advantage of, but who doesn't? Who wants to sign up for intentional emotional pain from other humans? Oh, that would be Jesus.
Thank you God for bringing your Words to Me. Reminding me you do see it all, even when I don't. And that I can Trust you know the End Game. You know the consequences. And I don't have to be the one to deal them out. My hope is my praying will lessen the preying. That healing will prevail, and blessings will continue in my own life as well as my family that you blessed me with.
Always humbled by this Beautiful Life,
Julie Kristen Robbins
Not because I read it in a book, or am trying to follow some far reaching role model in my life.
But because I think I know, because I trust my instincts.
I thought I knew some things, but I was very wrong. I felt I had been duped and deceived by people I had trusted, but they were not worthy of my trust, and I had absolutely no idea, none. So I began to question my experience, my ability to discern truth from fiction, my "radar", my "mom sense". I wanted retribution. I wanted to make those involved to see how wrong they were. I did not want anyone getting away with anything that would cause someone else harm. What if others didn't know? What if the same thing happened to them and I stood by and said nothing. When is it considered gossip or letting someone know the skinny so they wont fall prey?
I said to my husband, while I was Praying, they were preying. How ironic is that???
Living in this world is a balancing act between
Love and hate.
Believing or Questioning.
Lying and Truth.
Let go or Hold On.
Intervene or Sit Back and Wait.
Throw in the Towel or Keep Fighting.
Character or Charm
Momentary "Magic" or Lifetime commitment.
As I was running around the track this morning, I said to God, where were you when.........? Did you not see???? Did you not know, I mean, you are God, right? What are you trying to do to me? You know how deep my love is. I don't fake this life. I am not a con artist. I put it all out there. I love generously, and I feel as if you are showing me I don't have a clue.
And then I felt a nudging in my spirit, Read Psalm 139. go on, read it. I am not far away.
verse 2 you know when I sit and when I rise.
verse 3 you know when I go out and when I lie down
verse 4 before I speak a word, you know what I will say
verse 5 you hem me in, you go before and behind me
verse 7 I can't get away from your spirit
verse 16 All the days were ordained for me before one of them came to be.
I did cry on the track. I had one more lap to go. I did the lap, crying. Crying because I hate the feelings of hurt. I hate being taken advantage of, but who doesn't? Who wants to sign up for intentional emotional pain from other humans? Oh, that would be Jesus.
Thank you God for bringing your Words to Me. Reminding me you do see it all, even when I don't. And that I can Trust you know the End Game. You know the consequences. And I don't have to be the one to deal them out. My hope is my praying will lessen the preying. That healing will prevail, and blessings will continue in my own life as well as my family that you blessed me with.
Always humbled by this Beautiful Life,
Julie Kristen Robbins
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
A Divine Moment in the Cafeteria
My daughter had surgery on June 21st at Boston Children's Hospital for corrective back surgery due to her diagnosis of severe scoliosis. If you have seen any of my facebook posts, you would have seen a recent picture post of the before and after digital hospital image. Amazing what modern medicine is capable of. So glad I am so close to such an amazing hospital.
During our week long stay for her surgery, we had the privilege of staying at a place called Yawkee Family Inn. This is an Inn that parents/guardians of patients of Boston Children's hospital can stay. The cost is nominal, $30 a night, and area restaurants bring in food 3 to 4 nights a week. Those staying at the inn are given refrigerator space, and pantry space for your own food, and there is also a community spot in both areas where you can use any of the food left behind by others. While staying at Yawkee Inn I was able to talk to the residents. I met parents from Libya, China, Puerto Rico, Tennessee, Kansas City, New York, New Hampshire, just to name a few places. Most people were there much longer than we were. We were one of the "fortunate" families whose stay was only a week long. Being in that place with all these new people, all functioning with children who were in different degrees of suffering with some sort of condition that needed physical intervention, who may be suffering from something that can be fixed through operation(s), or possibly the child is terminal, has a way of minimizing my simple annoyances. A thing to remember, there are parents who would LOVE to have a child throw a "normal" temper tantrum over a toy they could not have, as opposed to a child who is crying out in pain on a continual basis until surgery takes care of the problem. If you have never dealt with serious debilitating health issue with yourself, an extended family member, or your own child, be glad. But if you have, I would dare say you are not one of those parents who continually sweats the small stuff. All of it is small stuff when someone's life hangs in the balance. ALL OF IT.
My moment of reckoning came on a day I decided to have lunch in the cafeteria at Boston Children's. I am even tearing up as I write this. You see, my daughter was on the orthopedic floor. This was a floor for kids who have scoliosis, some sort of orthopedic problem that will be solved, for the most part, by surgery, so my exposure to children with deformities was almost non-existent. I saw kids in pain, but I knew they would be better as time healed their bodies after surgery.
As I sat down to eat my lunch, I was thinking, I just want to be alone. I don't want to make polite conversation with anyone. I don't want to talk about why I am here. It was all I could do to go down stairs, eat, function, and not cry or loose it. Loosing it would not benefit anyone, I had to get back upstairs to Elizabeth.
I saw a Mom come in with her son. He was in a laying down wheel chair/stroller of sorts. It was obvious he had had brain surgery, as you could see the stitching going up one side of his face, across the front of his hair line and down the other. He was severely bloated, sleeping, legs propped up by a pillow, eyes fluttering. I am ashamed to admit this, as I think sometimes I am an "evolved" person and love people, but I thought, oh please don't sit here, I am trying to eat. How can I eat and watch your son? My heart can't take it, I just want to eat.
And then I heard this little voice say to me "Tell her that her son is BEAUTIFUL!" He is beautiful to me. With all those scars, all that bloating, He Is Beautiful to Me.
It was all I could do to not begin crying right there.
Yes, He is BEAUTIFUL.
The boy's Mom looked exhausted, as most parents do here. You kind of see that look and you know the difference between the look of a visiting relative and a parent. That look of, I am as strong as I possibly can be at this moment for my child, but, I am on the edge. I am tired. I just want to sit here and eat too.
I finished my lunch. I looked across the very small table at this Mom, her son parked right beside the table. She glanced up at me. I was shaking.
I told her, "I just want you to know, Your Son Is Beautiful". oh, thank you, in the most quiet voice. And then she smiled, He really is. And I could see her tears coming. He is. I got up, and left, saying a prayer for that little one.
And in that moment, God showed me with all of His power, how beautiful we All are to Him.
He does not see our "worldly scars", that either we put there ourselves, or were put there by others.
He does not see how small, big, smart, lacking, developmentally delayed, deformed we are by worldly standards.
He sees Beauty.
I saw Beauty that day.
And I will never be the same.
Thank God for True Beauty.
The One Who Created You Thinks Your are Beautiful.
Touched and Changed.
Humbled Yet Again,
Julie Kristen Robbins
During our week long stay for her surgery, we had the privilege of staying at a place called Yawkee Family Inn. This is an Inn that parents/guardians of patients of Boston Children's hospital can stay. The cost is nominal, $30 a night, and area restaurants bring in food 3 to 4 nights a week. Those staying at the inn are given refrigerator space, and pantry space for your own food, and there is also a community spot in both areas where you can use any of the food left behind by others. While staying at Yawkee Inn I was able to talk to the residents. I met parents from Libya, China, Puerto Rico, Tennessee, Kansas City, New York, New Hampshire, just to name a few places. Most people were there much longer than we were. We were one of the "fortunate" families whose stay was only a week long. Being in that place with all these new people, all functioning with children who were in different degrees of suffering with some sort of condition that needed physical intervention, who may be suffering from something that can be fixed through operation(s), or possibly the child is terminal, has a way of minimizing my simple annoyances. A thing to remember, there are parents who would LOVE to have a child throw a "normal" temper tantrum over a toy they could not have, as opposed to a child who is crying out in pain on a continual basis until surgery takes care of the problem. If you have never dealt with serious debilitating health issue with yourself, an extended family member, or your own child, be glad. But if you have, I would dare say you are not one of those parents who continually sweats the small stuff. All of it is small stuff when someone's life hangs in the balance. ALL OF IT.
My moment of reckoning came on a day I decided to have lunch in the cafeteria at Boston Children's. I am even tearing up as I write this. You see, my daughter was on the orthopedic floor. This was a floor for kids who have scoliosis, some sort of orthopedic problem that will be solved, for the most part, by surgery, so my exposure to children with deformities was almost non-existent. I saw kids in pain, but I knew they would be better as time healed their bodies after surgery.
As I sat down to eat my lunch, I was thinking, I just want to be alone. I don't want to make polite conversation with anyone. I don't want to talk about why I am here. It was all I could do to go down stairs, eat, function, and not cry or loose it. Loosing it would not benefit anyone, I had to get back upstairs to Elizabeth.
I saw a Mom come in with her son. He was in a laying down wheel chair/stroller of sorts. It was obvious he had had brain surgery, as you could see the stitching going up one side of his face, across the front of his hair line and down the other. He was severely bloated, sleeping, legs propped up by a pillow, eyes fluttering. I am ashamed to admit this, as I think sometimes I am an "evolved" person and love people, but I thought, oh please don't sit here, I am trying to eat. How can I eat and watch your son? My heart can't take it, I just want to eat.
And then I heard this little voice say to me "Tell her that her son is BEAUTIFUL!" He is beautiful to me. With all those scars, all that bloating, He Is Beautiful to Me.
It was all I could do to not begin crying right there.
Yes, He is BEAUTIFUL.
The boy's Mom looked exhausted, as most parents do here. You kind of see that look and you know the difference between the look of a visiting relative and a parent. That look of, I am as strong as I possibly can be at this moment for my child, but, I am on the edge. I am tired. I just want to sit here and eat too.
I finished my lunch. I looked across the very small table at this Mom, her son parked right beside the table. She glanced up at me. I was shaking.
I told her, "I just want you to know, Your Son Is Beautiful". oh, thank you, in the most quiet voice. And then she smiled, He really is. And I could see her tears coming. He is. I got up, and left, saying a prayer for that little one.
And in that moment, God showed me with all of His power, how beautiful we All are to Him.
He does not see our "worldly scars", that either we put there ourselves, or were put there by others.
He does not see how small, big, smart, lacking, developmentally delayed, deformed we are by worldly standards.
He sees Beauty.
I saw Beauty that day.
And I will never be the same.
Thank God for True Beauty.
The One Who Created You Thinks Your are Beautiful.
Touched and Changed.
Humbled Yet Again,
Julie Kristen Robbins
Thursday, May 16, 2013
I Am Boycotting Mothers Day.
And Valentine's Day. And Anniversaries. And Birthdays.
Bah Humbug. No More Easter Bunny silliness.
I have you all wondering. What has gotten her goat? What is her problem?
Just a little food for thought. You are welcome to read and disagree. I have no problem with that, I am over 40 after all. (My friend just posted something about women over 40, and one of characteristics is we know the truth and don't care if you agree with us or not.) Its okay, you are still my friend.
I had a very wise mentor friend say to me once, Christmas is every day for me, as is Easter. I remember thinking, OOOKAAAAY. I guess you aren't into the materialism and all. He went on to explain his reasoning, and I listened politely, not really getting it, but sort of getting it because I respect this man profoundly.
And then I got it.
This mothers day, this past Sunday. I got what he was saying to me all those years ago.
My day started full of unsaid expectations, because, after all, It Was Mothers Day. And, being the selfless fool that I am, I said to my husband, if nothing is done for me tomorrow, you are all DEAD MEAT. Yup, winning the Mother of the Year award for that statement. He proceeded to take the teenagers shopping while I took a very long nap as life just exhausts me at times and calls for a nap.
Did I awaken the next morning to a symphony playing on our sound system? Coffee in bed? Warm buns baking in the oven? Bacon and eggs warming on the stove with nicely cut up fruit awaiting me on china? Rosebuds encircling my bed? Flowers of ANY KIND greeting me?
All a BIG NO.
I began to grow sadder by the moment. I began to go through my list of all the wonderful things I do for my family. I began to feel used, abused, neglected. Please tell me I am NOT the only woman who has a brain who works like this? And then I went to church, they had some lovely photographer that was taking family shots, and I am like No Way. I am not standing in some line to wrangle all these people.(It was a thoughtful idea, I was just in no mood.)
We get home, and before we get out of the van, Carl stops everyone from getting out, and he starts talking.
"First of all, I want to thank you for being the Rock in this family. Your love, caring, guidance, spiritual direction, continual prayers and heart for God is what keeps us all moving in the right direction. Girls, thank you so much for being great kids. Yes, you give your mother some attitude, etc, but when I was your age I was an absolutely horrible teenager, I was mean, nasty, did stuff I am not proud of, things I will never tell you about, and that is not who I am now, I am different, and I credit that to God and your Mom. Little Daniel, you are a gift to all of us, we are blessed".
I began to cry. And this is why I want to boycott all those "silly" holidays.
Those words can be uttered on any day of the year, at any moment of the day. Anytime. My husband is very good at affirming me, and he knows when I am down and need it. It changed my mood in an instant. They were life giving words. At that moment, I did not care if I had been given a breakfast or gifts. Those words were my gifts. The love that was in those words were the gifts.
We can do that anytime.
We don't need a holiday to tell us to do that. Or do we? Have we become lazy praisers? Do we think that one day of gifts can fix a whole year of neglect and defiance? What if we lived every day like it was fathers day, or mothers day, or childrens day? What if we simply honored others when given the opportunity?
So, I have decided. I am going to take Mom out regularly just because I love her.
I will buy things for my children, just because.
I will kiss and hug and make coffee and his favorite steak and onions on many days of the year for my husband, and say, ride that Harley anytime, babe, you work hard.
I will call my Dad more often just to say I love you Dad. I am glad you are part of what made me.
I will send notes when I feel prompted in my heart to do so, or make that phone call so I can hear your voice.
Because, guess what? Every day is a holiday. Every day matters. People in my life that God continually brings to our home, matter. Lucas, at 7a.m.in my kitchen, matters. How about a good morning, and can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry? Can I love on you in some way that will awaken in you your specialness this very moment?
My husband gave me a reminder. I do love those willow angels so much. I have a small collection started. They are special because they have been given to me by people who see certain things in me, and find a angel that represents that characteristic.My husband got me the angel called "Abundance", which means lots of love. greatly overflowing. And, I had my tears. Thank you for the reminder, my dear Carl.
I have an Abundant Life.
Love to you all who read, and know each day is a "Holiday".
Blessed in this Nest,
Julie Robbins.
Bah Humbug. No More Easter Bunny silliness.
I have you all wondering. What has gotten her goat? What is her problem?
Just a little food for thought. You are welcome to read and disagree. I have no problem with that, I am over 40 after all. (My friend just posted something about women over 40, and one of characteristics is we know the truth and don't care if you agree with us or not.) Its okay, you are still my friend.
I had a very wise mentor friend say to me once, Christmas is every day for me, as is Easter. I remember thinking, OOOKAAAAY. I guess you aren't into the materialism and all. He went on to explain his reasoning, and I listened politely, not really getting it, but sort of getting it because I respect this man profoundly.
And then I got it.
This mothers day, this past Sunday. I got what he was saying to me all those years ago.
My day started full of unsaid expectations, because, after all, It Was Mothers Day. And, being the selfless fool that I am, I said to my husband, if nothing is done for me tomorrow, you are all DEAD MEAT. Yup, winning the Mother of the Year award for that statement. He proceeded to take the teenagers shopping while I took a very long nap as life just exhausts me at times and calls for a nap.
Did I awaken the next morning to a symphony playing on our sound system? Coffee in bed? Warm buns baking in the oven? Bacon and eggs warming on the stove with nicely cut up fruit awaiting me on china? Rosebuds encircling my bed? Flowers of ANY KIND greeting me?
All a BIG NO.
I began to grow sadder by the moment. I began to go through my list of all the wonderful things I do for my family. I began to feel used, abused, neglected. Please tell me I am NOT the only woman who has a brain who works like this? And then I went to church, they had some lovely photographer that was taking family shots, and I am like No Way. I am not standing in some line to wrangle all these people.(It was a thoughtful idea, I was just in no mood.)
We get home, and before we get out of the van, Carl stops everyone from getting out, and he starts talking.
"First of all, I want to thank you for being the Rock in this family. Your love, caring, guidance, spiritual direction, continual prayers and heart for God is what keeps us all moving in the right direction. Girls, thank you so much for being great kids. Yes, you give your mother some attitude, etc, but when I was your age I was an absolutely horrible teenager, I was mean, nasty, did stuff I am not proud of, things I will never tell you about, and that is not who I am now, I am different, and I credit that to God and your Mom. Little Daniel, you are a gift to all of us, we are blessed".
I began to cry. And this is why I want to boycott all those "silly" holidays.
Those words can be uttered on any day of the year, at any moment of the day. Anytime. My husband is very good at affirming me, and he knows when I am down and need it. It changed my mood in an instant. They were life giving words. At that moment, I did not care if I had been given a breakfast or gifts. Those words were my gifts. The love that was in those words were the gifts.
We can do that anytime.
We don't need a holiday to tell us to do that. Or do we? Have we become lazy praisers? Do we think that one day of gifts can fix a whole year of neglect and defiance? What if we lived every day like it was fathers day, or mothers day, or childrens day? What if we simply honored others when given the opportunity?
So, I have decided. I am going to take Mom out regularly just because I love her.
I will buy things for my children, just because.
I will kiss and hug and make coffee and his favorite steak and onions on many days of the year for my husband, and say, ride that Harley anytime, babe, you work hard.
I will call my Dad more often just to say I love you Dad. I am glad you are part of what made me.
I will send notes when I feel prompted in my heart to do so, or make that phone call so I can hear your voice.
Because, guess what? Every day is a holiday. Every day matters. People in my life that God continually brings to our home, matter. Lucas, at 7a.m.in my kitchen, matters. How about a good morning, and can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry? Can I love on you in some way that will awaken in you your specialness this very moment?
My husband gave me a reminder. I do love those willow angels so much. I have a small collection started. They are special because they have been given to me by people who see certain things in me, and find a angel that represents that characteristic.My husband got me the angel called "Abundance", which means lots of love. greatly overflowing. And, I had my tears. Thank you for the reminder, my dear Carl.
I have an Abundant Life.
Love to you all who read, and know each day is a "Holiday".
Blessed in this Nest,
Julie Robbins.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
2880 miles Baby. Our trip to Florida.
The response I get from most when I tell them we drive to Florida, is, Are You Crazy??? And we do it most times in 27 hours of strait driving. I always feel a wee bit crazy by 2a.m. on the drive down. I am thinking, what the heck? Why? Why? And then daylight dawns, we stop at Mickey Dees, and life is good.
This year gave us a wee bit more crazy on the way down.
At 4a.m., just outside of D.C., I was sitting in the back seat of the van, and thought it smelled "hot". And then the thumping began. I said, what IS that noise? A truck? As Carl was driving he felt the steering shift a bit, and realized, Whoa, that sound is the tire. We were on the 495, just north by feet from an exit outside of Kensingston. We could not make it off the exit. 3 lanes of traffic, he pulled over to the right side of the interstate. Definitely a flat tire. Back left tire. Right under where I was sitting. Of course I smelled something, it was the tire.
We proceeded to call AAA roadside. Now, this is when the fun begins. That DAY was when the AAA roadside expires. at noon. Fortunately it is 4 a.m. of the day. So AAA comes. Apparently in vans, the dummy tire is between the seats, hanging only by a bolt, which of course, in the Maine elements has rusted to a frozen position. Being the auto experts that both Carl and I are, we did not even know we had a dummy tire. So, now the problem is 6 people cannot fit in the tow truck. It is now 5a.m. So, AAA guy calls for a long cab tow truck to pick us up and take us to a tire place that is open 24 hours. The same type of tow truck arrives, 1 HOUR later. Apparently the needed vehicle got lost in translation......so a taxi cab is ordered, another 1/2 hour wait.
Let us just say at this point I am feeling like the whole world is incompetent. Are we the first family on the face of the planet who has a flat tire while traveling at 4 a.m. with a van full of people? I guess so. I guess we were the trial run guinea pig family to figure out how AAA towing works.
Taxi cab comes, Daniel does NOT want to get into it for some reason. He is not a fit thrower. And he pitches the biggest fit of his entire life. Carl and Kristen hop into the original tow truck as I am trying to stuff him into the backseat of this taxi. His legs are flailing, kicking, NO NO NO, and the guy in the front seat is saying, well you are going to have to buckle him, I am like, RIGHT BUDDY. We all look like homeless people, disheveled and dazed, and boy am I so glad I drank nothing after 12 noon at this point on the previous day. I force him into the taxi, Elizabeth and her friend Sharon are in the taxi as well. None of us knows what to make of this screaming kid. I am thinking, how great to be 2. I want to scream and kick like that because that is exactly HOW I feel after sitting waiting in that van for 2 and 1/2 hours.
We make it to the tire place, it does not open until 7:30a.m. We are informed that if we were going to break down we picked one of the few nice neighborhoods in D.C. to break down outside of. Good thing, as we are waiting outside for over 30mins until the place opens up. But, the sun is shining, Daniel is running back and forth between all the girls, and we get in. That will be 30 mins. to get those tires on (we have to purchase 2). An HOUR later, I am pacing. Okay, this is officially sucking. It is now 8:30a.m. If you know anything about traveling you know every minute counts, let alone every hour. WE travel through the night to avoid places like NYC and D.C. and the George Washington Bridge in daylight, because, well, get stuck in any one of those places and you will NEVER do it again.
We roll out of the tire place at around 8:45a.m. Time for Breakfast. We find a McDonalds, eat, and are on our way. We are looking at a 5 HOUR delay at this point. 5 HOURS! I don't even want to think about it, as it is hard enough to be in a car from 3p.m. on Friday until 6:30p.m. on Saturday.
Gridlock in D. C. greets us.
And that is when we all had to make a choice.
We had to stop saying how much this all SUCKED royally.
We had to stop saying, WHY did this happen?
We had to stop looking at that Garmin that said we would not be arriving till well after our projected arrival time.
This was a real lesson in attitude.
What do you do when you know a situation will be prolonged beyond the point you already don't think you can bear?
What do you do when, to the best of your ability you have planned, made sure all things were in operating order so that something unforeseen would not happen?
What do you do when others are relying on you, and you feel just as horrible as they do?
And, add a 2 and 1/2 year old into this mix. Add a young one into anything will start a party that's for sure.
And so, we traveled on, stopping when we needed to, made sure Daniel had his breaks to run a bit, and we made it Kissimee, Florida at 12:30a.m.Sunday morning.
Because of the extra sleep time in the van, Daniel was not ready for bed. We all showered, munched on goodies that had been packed, and went to bed around 2:30a.m.
No one was complaining. We had made it to Florida. For the first time ever, I did not get out of bed until 8:30a.m. In the history of Daniel's entire life I have NEVER been in bed at 8:30a.m. 6 strait hours of sleep and I felt refreshed. and so did Carl.
And we headed to the pool.
And the week went on with trips to Sea World, Aquatica Water Park, friends visiting, enjoying the resort we always stay at, and Dominos pizza, my favorite new pizza. Oh, and never eat Chinese food in Florida, it is just plain gross. And I turned 45 years old in Florida. And the ride back went without a hitch whatsoever.
Were we watched over by angels? I believe yes.
Could that blow out tire been A lot worse? Absolutely.
Could our whole trip been ruined by foul attitudes, talking incessantly about how horrible the trip down was? yes. Was it? NO! Wasn't even mentioned.
It all boils down to choice.
How will I choose to respond when things do not go my way?
How will I choose to respond, even when my negative response is justified completely?
How long will I camp out in my justified negative response?
Its always up to me. As well as, it is always up to YOU.
And, I am just a wee bit glad the plan in to go to Myrtle Beach next April break....... :)
Love from the Traveling Nest,
Julie, Mother who still has hair, 2 teen daughters, and a 2 year Old.
This year gave us a wee bit more crazy on the way down.
At 4a.m., just outside of D.C., I was sitting in the back seat of the van, and thought it smelled "hot". And then the thumping began. I said, what IS that noise? A truck? As Carl was driving he felt the steering shift a bit, and realized, Whoa, that sound is the tire. We were on the 495, just north by feet from an exit outside of Kensingston. We could not make it off the exit. 3 lanes of traffic, he pulled over to the right side of the interstate. Definitely a flat tire. Back left tire. Right under where I was sitting. Of course I smelled something, it was the tire.
We proceeded to call AAA roadside. Now, this is when the fun begins. That DAY was when the AAA roadside expires. at noon. Fortunately it is 4 a.m. of the day. So AAA comes. Apparently in vans, the dummy tire is between the seats, hanging only by a bolt, which of course, in the Maine elements has rusted to a frozen position. Being the auto experts that both Carl and I are, we did not even know we had a dummy tire. So, now the problem is 6 people cannot fit in the tow truck. It is now 5a.m. So, AAA guy calls for a long cab tow truck to pick us up and take us to a tire place that is open 24 hours. The same type of tow truck arrives, 1 HOUR later. Apparently the needed vehicle got lost in translation......so a taxi cab is ordered, another 1/2 hour wait.
Let us just say at this point I am feeling like the whole world is incompetent. Are we the first family on the face of the planet who has a flat tire while traveling at 4 a.m. with a van full of people? I guess so. I guess we were the trial run guinea pig family to figure out how AAA towing works.
Taxi cab comes, Daniel does NOT want to get into it for some reason. He is not a fit thrower. And he pitches the biggest fit of his entire life. Carl and Kristen hop into the original tow truck as I am trying to stuff him into the backseat of this taxi. His legs are flailing, kicking, NO NO NO, and the guy in the front seat is saying, well you are going to have to buckle him, I am like, RIGHT BUDDY. We all look like homeless people, disheveled and dazed, and boy am I so glad I drank nothing after 12 noon at this point on the previous day. I force him into the taxi, Elizabeth and her friend Sharon are in the taxi as well. None of us knows what to make of this screaming kid. I am thinking, how great to be 2. I want to scream and kick like that because that is exactly HOW I feel after sitting waiting in that van for 2 and 1/2 hours.
We make it to the tire place, it does not open until 7:30a.m. We are informed that if we were going to break down we picked one of the few nice neighborhoods in D.C. to break down outside of. Good thing, as we are waiting outside for over 30mins until the place opens up. But, the sun is shining, Daniel is running back and forth between all the girls, and we get in. That will be 30 mins. to get those tires on (we have to purchase 2). An HOUR later, I am pacing. Okay, this is officially sucking. It is now 8:30a.m. If you know anything about traveling you know every minute counts, let alone every hour. WE travel through the night to avoid places like NYC and D.C. and the George Washington Bridge in daylight, because, well, get stuck in any one of those places and you will NEVER do it again.
We roll out of the tire place at around 8:45a.m. Time for Breakfast. We find a McDonalds, eat, and are on our way. We are looking at a 5 HOUR delay at this point. 5 HOURS! I don't even want to think about it, as it is hard enough to be in a car from 3p.m. on Friday until 6:30p.m. on Saturday.
Gridlock in D. C. greets us.
And that is when we all had to make a choice.
We had to stop saying how much this all SUCKED royally.
We had to stop saying, WHY did this happen?
We had to stop looking at that Garmin that said we would not be arriving till well after our projected arrival time.
This was a real lesson in attitude.
What do you do when you know a situation will be prolonged beyond the point you already don't think you can bear?
What do you do when, to the best of your ability you have planned, made sure all things were in operating order so that something unforeseen would not happen?
What do you do when others are relying on you, and you feel just as horrible as they do?
And, add a 2 and 1/2 year old into this mix. Add a young one into anything will start a party that's for sure.
And so, we traveled on, stopping when we needed to, made sure Daniel had his breaks to run a bit, and we made it Kissimee, Florida at 12:30a.m.Sunday morning.
Because of the extra sleep time in the van, Daniel was not ready for bed. We all showered, munched on goodies that had been packed, and went to bed around 2:30a.m.
No one was complaining. We had made it to Florida. For the first time ever, I did not get out of bed until 8:30a.m. In the history of Daniel's entire life I have NEVER been in bed at 8:30a.m. 6 strait hours of sleep and I felt refreshed. and so did Carl.
And we headed to the pool.
And the week went on with trips to Sea World, Aquatica Water Park, friends visiting, enjoying the resort we always stay at, and Dominos pizza, my favorite new pizza. Oh, and never eat Chinese food in Florida, it is just plain gross. And I turned 45 years old in Florida. And the ride back went without a hitch whatsoever.
Were we watched over by angels? I believe yes.
Could that blow out tire been A lot worse? Absolutely.
Could our whole trip been ruined by foul attitudes, talking incessantly about how horrible the trip down was? yes. Was it? NO! Wasn't even mentioned.
It all boils down to choice.
How will I choose to respond when things do not go my way?
How will I choose to respond, even when my negative response is justified completely?
How long will I camp out in my justified negative response?
Its always up to me. As well as, it is always up to YOU.
And, I am just a wee bit glad the plan in to go to Myrtle Beach next April break....... :)
Love from the Traveling Nest,
Julie, Mother who still has hair, 2 teen daughters, and a 2 year Old.
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