Florida Report

Florida Report

April 2, 2015

"Florida Report" doesn't sound like something fun to read - more like something cranked out by a consulting firm for some need or other!  But I don't feel right entitling this "My Super Duper fun Vacation," either, because it wasn't.

I went for Ben.  And I don't regret that one bit.  He had an absolute blast.  With all he's endured in his lifetime, I'm very grateful I was able to give this experience to him.

I endured.

The trip to and from Florida was arduous, to say the least.  Florida is a LONG ways away from Iowa.  Our charter bus was old.  They had a coffin-like appendage hanging down in the front of the bus covering the first 4 or so seats so that everyone had to hunch over to get to and from the entrance.  It  was a bed for the drivers to take turns using as they drove through the night.  Who thought of this set-up?  The seats were cramped.  I did a lot of reading.  I worked a bit on an article I'm writing that I have to have turned in by April 22.  I stared out the window quite a bit.  Now that was scary!

I found it amusing to look down into people's cars as we went by and into semi-truck cabs.  What was NOT amusing was the number of people - including semi-drivers - who were scrolling through Facebook or texting as they drove.  You hear about this kind of stuff on the news, but until you see it like I did, you don't realize how dangerous it really is out there on the road!  One semi-driver I saw had a book propped up against the steering wheel.  Should I give him props for being a reader?    It's amazing more of us aren't dead right now.

Attempting to sleep on the bus for two nights was beyond horrible.  Two Advil PMs were not enough to make it work for me.  I tossed and turned and I couldn't stretch out and I got rug burns on my elbows from repeatedly scraping the seat cushions.  I got kinks in my back and neck.  This may be an old lady problem; I don't know.  The two teenagers to our left dozed almost day Thursday.  They were part of the school group that returned from a trip to Belize at 11 pm the night before and had to be at the school by 6 am to load up for the Orlando trip. 

I'm not sure where to stick this in where it will flow well, so I'll just do it here: Leggings.  Leggings, ladies and gentlemen, are NOT pants.  But nobody seems aware of this.  I had the foresight to dress Ben and myself in sweats for the trip down thinking we'd want to be comfortable sitting for a 24 hour shot.  Now, I like leggings, actually.  Lizzie has several pairs and underneath a short dress or a long top, they're really cute.  But I think every high school girl on this trip dressed in leggings but they didn't pair them with a long top!  They are a very unforgiving garment.  Nothing is hidden when you encase your rear end in a pair of skin tight leggings.  Even the foreign exchange, Muslim, girl that went on the trip wore her leggings.  She was careful to only wear long sleeves and had all her hair covered at all times - even at the beach.  But she also wore leggings the entire trip and they showed off things that I'm fairly certain would be offensive to Muslim dictates.  Maybe?  Or am I just showing my age?  I don't know.  Sigh...

Hollywood Studios

We made it down to Orlando Friday morning and were immediately taken to the first Disney Park - Hollywood Studios.  I wasn't all that impressed.  Ben wanted to ride roller coasters.  I've never been overly fond of fast moving rides, but who else was going to ride with him?  We had fast passes (Disney allows you to sign up in advance for three rides/shows a day where you get to go through the "fast" lane rather than waiting in the regular lane from anywhere from 20 minutes to two hours, depending on the popularity of the attraction) for three.  We used two.  When Ben figured out that we'd have to go clear to one end of the park and then back to the other end for another ride, he wasn't interested and I wasn't, either.

It was really humid on Friday and my hair was going crazy.  Fortunately, I had a headband with me and was able to slick back most of the frizz with it.  We left the park around 3 and were immediately taken to Disney Downtown, which is this huge shopping area.

Expensive shopping area.  Everything at Disney is expensive.

By this time it was raining.  One of the best purchases I made in anticipation of this trip was a $40 LL Bean lightweight backpack.  I carried that thing everywhere and it came in so handy.  I was able to whip out two umbrellas for Ben and me.  Unfortunately, we discovered that neither one worked well.  We got wet.  After awhile we just found some chairs under a canopy at a restaurant and sat for a long time.  Then, we were herded to a Cirque du Soleil show.

This was really impressive.  I had no idea what Cirque du Soleil was.  It's circus acts minus any animals.  It's a lot of acrobatic stunts and comedy.  I was so exhausted I kept falling asleep during the performance and then I would feel guilty because I knew I will probably never again in my life see these performers again.  And the performers are - amazing.

Then, we finally got to go to our hotel.  I was in charge of 8 other girls on my floor.  All that meant was they had to periodically check in with me and I had to make sure they were in their beds at curfew.  By the end of the trip, some of them were coming to me with problems.  One teenager got a severe sunburn at the beach and wondered what to do about her bra.  I told her to just skip the thing.  She didn't want to do that.  I remembered I had a sports bra I had brought along for sleeping so I offered that to her.  She was so grateful.  I also tracked down some sunburn spray for her.  I bit my tongue.  All of the chaperones warned the kids quite strongly about the dangers of the sun.  But I remember being 16, too.  I probably wouldn't have listened all that well, either.

The next morning we returned to Cirque du Soleil.  I guess this was the "educational" portion of the trip.  We got a backstage tour of the circus where the guide would hyperventilate if anyone breathed on anything they were not supposed to.  I found it annoying and the whole thing boring.  We didn't even get to meet the performers - just saw where they worked and how some of the stunts were put together.

Then, we went to Cocoa Beach.  This was probably my favorite part of the trip.  It was cool that day.  When we pulled into the beach, a nearby bank sign informed us it was 65 degrees.  And there was a good wind from time to time.  So, I rented beach chairs for Ben and myself (where they required my driver's license and a deposit - how valuable are these chairs, anyway?) and plopped down in the sand.  I already had my suit on and I swapped out my shirt for my beach cover-up.  And I never took it off.  It was too cold!

But again, I am an old lady.  As soon as those teenagers hit the sand, they were pulling off their t-shirts and running into the surf in their little bitty bikinis.  They're the ones that got sunburned.  I was very careful to use my sunscreen but my scalp got burned.  Right where I part my hair, my head is still pink!

It was relaxing.  Eventually, all the teachers on the trip rented chairs too and placed them near mine.  I had some nice conversations that day with them.  One of the teachers has taught both Will and Ben.  He told me "your boys have changed our school!"  He said that Will is one of those rare students that he felt taught him more than he was able to teach Will.   We had a great conversations about homeschooling and special needs children and other things.  We even talked about Christianity, which I found interesting.

One of the teachers reiterated to me how much Ben is loved by his fellow students.  He commented that he thought if some teacher were ever to give Ben a hard time about anything, the other students would immediately rise up in his defense.  I saw this affection on the trip that the kids have for Ben.  They genuinely like him and are not put off by his quirks.  At one point Ben was doing his little "gallop" thing that has always irritated me and I've always attempted to stop when I see him doing.  But his music teacher laughed and said, "Oh, I love it when Ben does that - that means he's excited!"  Would this have happened in any other school district?  I don't know.  I know it sure didn't when Ben was in kindergarten up in the Missouri Valley school.  I think of all the things that transpired that eventually led to Ben attending Pleasantville and it makes me think that God must have  had His hand in every little event, knowing where Ben needed to be.

That evening we were back at the hotel earlier, which I appreciated.  Ben discovered a hot tub and I was able to relax for awhile in my room.  The girls called me and then Will did, too.  I felt much better after talking to all of them.  I kind of forgot about Ben being down in the hot tub until one of the teachers delivered a dripping boy to my door.  He said that Ben couldn't remember his room number, so they had the concierge look it up and make a key for him.  I felt like not-such-a-good mom at that moment.

Sunday we did both Animal Kingdom and Epcot.  It was a still a cooler day, which I appreciated.  We saw a Lion King show at Animal Kingdom that was very well done.  Actually, everything Disney does is top rate.  That said, we were on two different rides that broke down at different times and another ride at the Magic Kingdom that we had fast passes for had to be delayed until they got it running again.

I was impressed by Epcot.  It's HUGE, though - so much walking.  Our tour coordinator had a fit bit and she visited the parks along with us, although probably did not do nearly as much walking as most of us did.  Sunday evening she said her fitbit was registering that she had walked just under 10 miles that day.  No wonder I got a blister on one of my feet!  But God bless Clark sandals...they were the best thing I could have bought for this trip.

One of the neatest rides we did at Epcot was called "Soarin'."  I really enjoyed this.  There are a number of rows and the rows slowly rotate upwards, downwards, and back and forth.  Meanwhile, you are viewing this wrap-around screen of scenery - all kinds - deserts, golf courses, rapids, plains.  It was so realistic that I found myself lifting my feet as we would approach banks of trees, so that I wouldn't hit them!  It must be something like what hangliders experience, only without the danger.  I would gladly do that ride again.  I can't say the same for the bone-jarring roller coasters Ben preferred.

Half of Epcot is divided up into "countries."  You'll find restaurants and shops designed to give you an experience as though you just stepped into one of these actual countries.  It was really cool.  Ben and I spent quite a few hours in that section.  It was as we were walking through Germany, I believe, that I heard Ben chuckling to himself.  I asked him what was so funny and he replied, "Nothing - I'm just so happy!"  I knew in that moment I would do this all over again.  We had our choice of countries for supper and settled on eating in "America." There was no question in Ben's mind of where we should go!   I have raised these kids right! Unfortunately, I was served raw steak in America, after being assurred it would be well cooked. 

That evening we all met together again and watched a fireworks show they do over the water.  I've seen fireworks before, so I wasn't all that blown away.  Plus, I was tired!

Monday we did the Magic Kingdom.  I never want to go there again.  It was crowded.  I don't know how anyone dealing with obesity, a stroller, or scooter even survived.  It was so crowded you sometimes came to a complete standstill waiting for others to get out of your way.  Not my idea of a good time!  It's billed as the "happiest place on earth" but I sure saw a lot of unhappy children and parents.  It was a hot again that day, too.  But Ben enjoyed it.  We took one ride just to sit down that basically circulated over the majority of the park, pointing out different attractions.  It was from there that Ben saw a racetrack where he could drive.  He wanted to do that.  So, we waited in line for 40 minutes and he got to drive.  He liked that.

That evening we loaded up onto our bus and headed northward.  We got home at 7:00 Tuesday night, 2 1/2 hours ahead of schedule.  I wasn't about to complain about that!  I was SO happy to be home!

Ben loved the trip.  I'm so thankful that it was everything he was hoping for.  I did it for him and I would do it again.  But I wouldn't do it for me.

I really struggled during the trip with grief over Paul.  That surprised me.  I also missed the rest of my kids tremendously.  I kept noticing these families at the parks and I felt sad that it was just Ben and me.  I think a lot of it was that I remember past family vacations when we were all together - not that we ever went to Disney - and I wanted that happiness back.  I am convinced now that it's not so much where you vacation, but it's the act of being on an adventure together.  I am anxious to take my kids back to Silver Dollar City and the Wisconsin Dells because we had some wonderful family trips there in the past.  It's not so much the locations themselves as it was the fact that we were together.

I don't think we'll ever be together at Disney, though.  I honestly have no desire to go back.  Florida has rotten weather - a brutal sun and some real humidity. I also got my first insect bites of the season - something that would never happen this early in the year in the midwest.   I figured up that for our family to do everything we did on this trip, I would be looking at a minimum of spending $5000.  And it would probably be closer to $6 or 7000 by the time you add in food and travel.  That's a chunk of change!

The food and souvenier prices at Disney are very, very high.  The cheapest meal Ben and I ever had was about $14 a person - for a hamburger, fries, and drink.  Disney does allow you to bring food into the park but there's only so much you want to carry around on your back, too.

I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who will disagree with everything I've written.  They'll point to their own Disney experiences and say it was the greatest trip of their lifetime.  And maybe it was.  If Paul and I had gone with the kids at some point we might have said the same thing, too. 

But I don't regret going.  Ben has some awesome memories he will carry around the rest of his life.

I haven't written about the best part of my trip yet.  It happened yesterday morning.  I went over to Jenn's to pick up the girls.  I couldn't drive fast enough.  I walked in the door and Ellie spied me first.  She ran to me and jumped into my arms, burrowing her head into my chest.  She clung so tightly I thought she was going to bruise me.  We sat there for the longest time, me crouched on my knees and she with her entire body pressed against mine.  And then Lizzie saw me and ran over too.  She actually knocked me backwards.

  And I held her little braided head and I knew I was right where I belong.

Day 655

DIARY OF AN UNWILLING WIDOW

March 21, 2015

Day 655

 

This week just flew by and I know next week will be the same.

 

A week ago today I was in Iowa City at the Special Olympics Dance competition.  This was the first time our district had put together a team.  I don't know why I thought that it would be a simple matter of driving out there, watching Ben perform, and then turning around and going home.  There were at least 20 groups performing.  And then results had to be tabulated and the awards ceremony had to happen.  Duh.  Why didn't I think of all this?  So my poor Littles had to sit in the stands for over 3 hours absolutely starving.  But they were really good.  Well, Ellie was mostly good and for her, that's saying something!  Lizzie was getting over her cold and had a sinus headache.  I didn't have any children's aspirin on me.  And of course, these were all loud, rocky, dance tunes that we had to listen to.  They were blaring.  So for a lot of the time Lizzie just laid her head in my lap and I tried to cover her ears so she wouldn't get the full impact of the loud music.

 

That said...it was still pretty cool.  Some groups had 20-30 people and some had only one.  I watched one woman with Downs Syndrome dance her heart out in a solo act and she was amazing.  Our group did awesome.  They got silver medals.

 

I don't know why, but it seemed like every other group chose either Frozen songs or "Shake it Off" to dance to.  I loved those songs...not so much anymore, though!

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This week was Spring Break week for Ben.  It was cooler this week than last, but the sun shined most days - even on my birthday, which is a real rarity.  Monday was a really nice day.   I found out that day that it was Dairy Queen's 75th anniversary and so, they were giving away free soft serve ice cream.  After supper that night I loaded up the kids and we drove down to Knoxville.  It was a nice way to end the evening.

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I got Will's FAFSA filed this week.  The lady who did it said that he should qualify for the full Pell grant, which is more than tuition at DMACC.  If she's right - and I hope she is - that means the next two years he'll attend for free and she said there should even be enough grant money to pay for his books.  Thank you, American tax payers!  Actually, I'm kind of thinking that maybe, knowing this, it would be kind of silly to sit at home for the next 3 yrs until David graduates doing nothing - other than homeschooling him and the normal, mom stuff.  Maybe I need to give more serious thought to wrapping up the degree I started more than 25 yrs ago. We'll see.

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Lizzie asked me how old I was going to turn on my birthday.  I told her and she exclaimed loudly(and yes, we were in public), "That means in just 7 years, you'll be 100!"  I said, "Uh, no" and she recalculated and said, "Oops - I meant nine years"  Who's her math teacher anyway?

 

Sam said, "You were born in 1950, right, Mom?"  I told him he was off by more than 20 years.  Then he wanted to know what year his Grandpa Daniels was born.  I told him and he looked surprised.  He replied, "Huh - I thought you would have said somewhere around 1870!"

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David's new sandals arrived late last week - size 17s. They were $100, which is what I paid a year ago when I bought him size 15s at Scheels.  There's no skimping on name brands when you have gigantic feet.  Now I need to find him some cleats for softball.  That is going to be expensive, as well, and he'll only wear them for one season - less than two months.  Unless...his feet decide to, miraculously, quit growing and he can wear them again next year.  I'm not holding my breath, though!

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I struggled more, the first part of this week, with Paul being gone.  I suppose my approaching birthday had something to do with that.  He always made those so special.  Sometimes he would actually wake me up in the wee hours of the morning  to whisper, "Happy birthday!"  He said he wanted to be the first one to say it to me.  He probably could have been the first one if he'd waited until 7am or so, too!

 

Also, last weekend Will had me working on a paper with him for a class at school.  Apparently, there are a number of topics being covered, one of which is the Christian and death.  Will had asked his professor to not assign this one to him, as he didn't think he could emotionally handle it.  Well, the professor forgot and gave it to him anyway.  Will didn't want to make an issue out of it, and just took the assignment.  I was going through some of the materials and they are really, really good.  I had him download them to my computer and the ipad and I am wanting to go through them again sometime.  Will commented that he is wondering if God allowed him to be assigned this project for a reason - for further healing in his own heart.  I suggested that when he presents to the class he could weave his own story of loss into the presentation but Will said he doesn't want to try that because he doesn't think he'd be able to do it without breaking down.

 

I wonder if some of the materials and what I was helping him with affected my own heart.  I mean, I sat at my computer, writing this outline for Will, and  soon I found myself weeping.  I was ok but then I began to think on death and found myself bothered that Paul's death doesn't seem to have affected others like it has us.  That's a given of course!  I know his death did affect others, but since we were closest to him, it had the greatest impact on us.  I kept envisioning a body of water with a rock thrown into it.  The water is disturbed at first and then it doesn't take long for it to smooth back over.  That's what Paul's death has been.  Others are back to  normal, but I know we never will be.  I found myself bothered that people can just go on living when my life has been so radically changed.

 

It's the way it is.  What are you going to do - insist that others live in a suspended state of reality until your own heart heals?

 

Fortunately, all that only lasted about 24 hours.  I'm fine now.

 

And then the next day I cleaned out a kitchen cupboard.  In the bottom of one I found an unopened bag of ground ginger.  Paul swore by this stuff.  Anytime he was not feeling well, including times after he'd had severe seizures, he'd take ginger baths.  I found them kind of disgusting because it turned the bathwater brown and never completely dissolved.  But I always kept a bag around for him.

 

He doesn't need to take ginger baths anymore, does he?  I threw it away.  I'll never use it and I don't need that kind of reminder of the frailty  of Paul's earthly body.

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The rest of my week was a mix of good and bad.

 

Remember how I talked about the relief I felt in realizing that the craziness I see in Paul's family is no longer a burden I have to carry?  It was such a liberating thought. 

 

I'm not sure if God thought, "Umm....you have a few things you need to learn yet!" or if Satan saw this and decided that it was time to turn up the notch on the fire of life a bit.  I suppose it doesn't matter - ultimately, it can all be used for good and growth in my life.

 

This week I had three upsetting encounters with members of Paul's family.  Three!  After months of silence.  Sigh...

 

One came at 7:25 yesterday morning as I was getting ready to leave for Omaha to attend a craft show with Kathy.  I very nearly didn't take the call.  But I thought maybe someone had died and I should answer.   It occurred to me later that I do have voicemail and I probably should have used it.  The call was upsetting to me, but I had a good, two hour drive to think and pray about it.  I didn't let it ruin my day.  Freedom doesn't mean the absence of trials.  But it does mean that I can choose the extent to which I allow them to affect me.

 

As it turned out, Will was getting off work at the time I'd be getting back to town last night.  I drove to his workplace and we sat for nearly two hours in my van talking about this and other stuff.  He has a really wise perspective for someone still so young.  His dad was like that at the same age.  I have a lot more clarity today, which is good because assault #3 arrived in today's mail.  But I was able to pretty much laugh it off, even though it made me sad. 

 

So that's that for now anyway.  And, honestly, as much as I would like to be, I may never be completely free of all the craziness but after nearly two years, I am finally figuring out more healthy ways to deal with it all.

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The craft show was great.  It was a really large one, which made it more fun.  Kathy and I enjoyed ourselves so much.  We have the strangest friendship, where we go months without talking to one another - not even a text.  Kathy rarely remembers my birthday and half the time I forget to send her  a card on hers.  But when we're together we immediately slip back into a practiced familiarity, as though we just saw eachother yesterday and not three months ago.  We're both introverts and we've both noticed that tendency increasing as we age.  Kathy told me yesterday that she has other friends but when she spends time with them it feels like an effort and she comes away from those times exhausted.  She said her time with me is energizing.  That may be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me!  I have definitely noticed that I feel less stressed for days after spending time with Kathy.  It's worth the time, distance, and effort for us to get together.  Although, we may be a bit scary when we're 90 and still doing this.  Neither one of us has a real good sense of direction!

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I am now blogging as an older woman.  I turned 44 Wednesday.  When I woke up that morning I was immediately feeling sad because Paul wasn't here and Will had to work so he couldn't come home to celebrate.

 

But the day ended up being really, really nice, anyway.  I got so many touching FB messages, including one from Will that made me cry.  I got tons of cards in the mail with encouraging messages.  I got texts and a phone call.  I got sung to at church that evening.  A friend brought me tulips, which is my favorite flower.  I haven't had them since before Paul died.

 

The Littles and David made me homemade cards, which was sweet and appreciated.  Will says I'm getting my present today.  And you know what I've discovered?  Presents are not really that important to me anymore.  Being thought of and being appreciated on my special day is the the nicest thing.  I can buy the stuff I want for myself.  But I can't buy the genuine love and affection from my family and kids.

 

I heard Lizzie say on Wednesday to one of her siblings, "It's her birthday - she can do whatever she wants."  She paused and added as an aside, "But don't kill us!"  So noted.

 

The next day (which was cooler and gray - I was so thankful that kind of weather waited a day!) Sara and her entire family drove down, just for me.  They came armed with gifts and cakes and party supplies.  And it was a nice time.

 

I am loved.  I am loved first by God and secondly by a whole lot of people.  Until the day he died, I had the love of a good man.

 

I have a very rich life, indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 647

March 13, 2015

Day 647

 

This won't be a long post - it's been a pretty uneventful week.

 

Other than getting sick, that is.  I've got a head cold.  I'm still moving - it hasn't been bad enough to send me to bed, but I've got the sneezing, liquid in head, shortness of breath thing going on.  I was thinking today that I have not had a healthy March in at least 5 years.  Four years ago in early March I had the uterine ablation.  That really made my life much better, but there were a couple weeks of recovery.  The next March, I had that nodule removed from my breast.  Painful.  The next March I had the nasal surgery done which is the worst surgery in. the. world.  I can't even think of that time without my nose hurting.  And then, two days later the kids started coming down with the chicken pox.  Last year, I started feeling sick on my birthday - in March, of course - with what turned out to be a nasty, nasty case of the flu.  And this year I have this rotten head cold the kids shared with me.  Just once, I'd like to have a normal March!

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This has been Will's Spring Break week.  He flew to AZ on Monday to spend time with my brother and family.  He's been sending pics all week - sounds like he's been having a great adventure!

 

Of course, everything broke this week while he was gone!  He's coming home to a dvd player that suddenly doesn't recognize the remote (nor has back up buttons) anymore and a cracked bathroom mirror.  I also realized last night what bad shape the molding around the bathtub has gotten into.  I need to find out from him how to fix it.  I even dreamed about the tub last night, it's so bad!

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After our long winter, we suddenly had warmer temperatures this week.  I guess this is the normal  time for this to be happening, but I'm always surprised when it does.  I guess I get into a mindset that winter is going to last forever.

 

Of course, the kids think that highs in the mid-sixties mean they ought to be running outside in tank tops and shorts.  I think one of them even suggested it was time to get the pool up.  One day Lizzie commented seriously, "You are so different from other moms!"  That was because the high wasn't supposed to top 65 and I told her she needed to be in jeans, not shorts.  I guess all the other moms were slapping sunscreen on their little ones and driving them to the pool...

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My first Stitch Fix box arrived this week.  Now that was fun!  I was really excited to see what my stylist found for me, based on the information I provided for them.  I love their system.  Returns are super-easy and the check-out process is on-line.  For each item, you click either, "keep" or "return" and then let them know what you liked or disliked about each item.  That way they get to know your style better for future boxes.

 

They sent me: a really cute pair of mildly distressed boyfriend jeans.  But...I'm done with low-rise bottoms.  With my middle-aged, flabby tummy, there's too much spillage that happens.  So those, regretfully, went back.

 

...a berry colored, 3/4 length top...I also sent this back.  I thought the sleeves had a weird shape to them and the front was too low

 

...a gray and white horizontally striped sheer sweater with a cami...initially, I really liked this - until I put it on.  Then it was more of a "meh" thing.  It wasn't cheap, either, and if I'm going to spend that much on a top, it had better make me want to sing.

 

...a thin, long-sleeved navy top with white, horizontal stripes.  The cuffs are striped the opposite direction.  I love this and knew I had to have it.  I love it so  much that I am saving it to wear next week on my birthday! Sometimes you just try on something and you know it's perfect - this was one such item.

 

.....a necklace, that I also kept.   This purchase surprised me.  I almost always accessorize my outfits with jewelry, but my necklace choices tend to be pretty conservative.  I usually like them fitting inside my neckline and I don't like big, gaudy pieces.  The one they sent me is designed to look like the wearer has layered 3 different chains.  If I had seen that thing in a store I would have never even bothered, deeming it "complicated."  But on me - it looks great.  And it wasn't complicated at all.

 

Well, I won't give my readers a run-down of everything arrives in my boxes every time I order, but this first time was fun and I'm still pretty enthusiastic about the whole process.  I've set up another shipment for the end of April.  If I do this too often, I'll end up with far too many clothes.  For each season, I have in my head an approximate number of clothing items I need and I rarely overbuy, anyway.  Long ago, I realized the foolishness of having too many clothes.  You can only wear one thing a day and if your closet is stuffed, you may get to wear a favorite item only a few times during the season  (that's true for me, anyway,  because I force myself to wear everything I own before repeating).

 

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The other day Ellie said something about, "Will's big truck."  I realized that she was referring to Paul's truck.  Will insisted we keep the thing, even though I took the insurance off it and it doesn't run at all at the moment.  He wasn't ready to let go of it, which is fine.  But I found it interesting and little bit sad that she doesn't even associate the truck with Paul.

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Most who know me know there has been some tension (to put it mildly) between Paul's side of the family and me since his death.  I haven't written much about it publicly because I have no desire to badmouth the family and because the whole thing has been very hurtful to me.  It's a very weighty thing to remove one's self from a family, no matter how difficult things are - to keep my kids from having a relationship with  their grandparents and cousins.  It has caused a great deal of distress to me and I don't know that I will ever be "ok" with it.  I did what was necessary to protect our family, but oh, it's been painful.  I imagine I will pray for reconciliation until the day I die.

 

But this week...

 

Most people in the world are on Facebook these days.  I tend to be very careful about what I post there and I don't even post all that often.  I figure no one is really all that interested in my every thought or what I had for supper.  I save that kind of mundane for my blog!  But not everyone blogs and, apparently, a lot of people don't seem to care about the impression they give others by posting every thought that enters their head.

 

Sometime in the last week a big argument broke out between (you guessed it) Paul's dad and uncle over when the annual Heywood Family picnic should occur this summer.  Paul's dad is not on FB, but his uncle is and the argument got taken there.  Oh, my goodness...because they could not agree on a date they each picked their own date and then, tried to persuade others to attend their picnic.  I find the whole thing ironic because isn't the idea of a family picnic to bring family together?  I'm still FB friends with enough of Paul's extended family that the whole thing ended up on my feed.

 

Just, wow...

 

And then, suddenly, in the midst of reading, a bolt of understanding shot through me.

 

I am free

 

By taking the deliberate steps of separation that I knew to be necessary, I escaped all this craziness!  I don't have to hear about it anymore.  I don't have to talk things over with Paul and see him shake his head anymore.  I don't even have to read about it on Facebook if I don't want to.  It is  no longer any of my concern.  And just like that, a weight  lifts from my shoulders.

 

This is what freedom feels like!

 

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Well, that kind of freedom, anyway.  Today I am chained to my to-do list, the tissue box, and the Advil Cold and Sinus.  I really want to crawl into bed, but I can't.  Tonight is our church's annual gym night.  The  kids are crazy-excited about going and I don't have the heart to tell them that I don't really feel up to it.  So, we'll do that.  And then tomorrow I get to make a 4 hour round trip to Iowa City to see Ben perform in a 2 minute and 17 second dance routine.  I deserve the medal for this one!

 

Next week I'll be doing some things in preparation for our Florida trip (I found out I am, indeed, a chaperone, and will have several kids assigned to me, in addition to Ben.  This is something else I should be awarded a medal for, I think), and turning 44 one day, and entertaining Sara and the girls the next day, and then going to Omaha for a craft show with my friend, Kathy.  I also want to try to soak up as much time with my kidlets as possible because I feel like I am going to feel so guilty for abandoning them while I'm on our trip.

 

Gotta run...or more realistically, drag myself around with a tissue permanently stuck in my nose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 641

DIARY OF AN UNWILLING WIDOW

March 7, 2015

Day 641

 

Riding out a smaller grief wave today...I woke up really stiff and sore, which didn't help.  I must have slept in one position all night long.  And I woke up to Bella yowling at something which is really unusual.  She is normally a very quiet animal.

 

The boys have been gone all afternoon at the Deer Classic.  They had intended to go anyway, but then Will was able to get free tickets through his employer, which made it an even better idea.  So it's just been the girls and me.  I've been checking things off my to-do list and trying to get my cooking done for the month.  I've just been so tired, though.  And I'm going to lose another hour of sleep tonight with Daylight Savings time.

 

I've helped Will write two papers since last night.  He leaves Monday for AZ so he wanted to get some of his work knocked out of the way beforehand.  I actually find it kind of fun to edit his papers and help him figure out how to phrase things.  It makes me think that maybe, if I do decide to go back to college, I might be able to swing the coursework. 

 

Unless I have to take math.  Then I'm doomed.

 

Speaking of school...yesterday I took the Littles to meet the principal of the elementary school and tour the building.  It went very well.  I was pretty impressed with the set-up they have there and very relieved to find out that Sam will have more than an hour of recess every day.  The principal told me that they put a high emphasis on keeping the kids active and he thinks that is why the school continues to do well, scoring wise.  In fact, the school is being studied right now by a student doing his doctoral thesis. Pville has increasing poverty rates but, academically, they are remaining steady.  That usually doesn't happen. 

 

Sam and Lizzie were both very excited after our visit and quite crestfallen when they found out the first day of school is a good five and half months away yet.

So, it looks like I'm really going to do this.  After being such a staunch advocate of homeschooling for more than a decade and encouraging countless numbers of friends to make the same choice for their children,  I'm now reversing directions and plopping most of my kids in the government school system.

 

Paul would be appalled...maybe.

 

But I know this is the right thing to do at this time.  It's that calm voice of assurance that I felt in my heart when I knew I was done homeschooling Ben when he hit his middle school years.  It's that same voice that told me we were on the right path when we decided to pursue adoption despite all the logical reasons I had to not do it.  I know this is right.  It doesn't mean I'm suddenly anti-homeschooling.  I have no plans to quit schooling David at home.  I really think homeschooling is the best educational option out there -overall.  But it doesn't mean it's always the right choice for every child and for every family all the time.

 

It's not right for me right now.  And that's ok.  I am fully satisfied at the moment that Sam, Lizzie, and Ellie will thrive in the public school and will be well-educated.  Maybe not perfectly so, but well, enough, anyway.  I am learning that "good enough" is acceptable too, in a lot of areas.   But I suppose in deciding this I may be criticized by others who believe that homeschooling is not an individual choice, but a directive by God.  I can't live my life for the good opinions of others, though.

 

It was so cute yesterday.  Before we left for the school, David caught my attention and said, "Listen!"  Out in the kitchen, Lizzie was loudly practicing counting by tens.  She then told Sam that she sure hoped she knew enough math for the school to let her in!

 

At the meeting, the principal asked the three of us if we had any questions.  I had come with a list, but before I could say anything, Sam replied, "Well, yes, Yes, I do have some questions!"  Most of his had to do with lunch and recess but he just cracked me up.  I never realize how much he's been thinking until he opens his mouth.

 

Yesterday must have been all about schooling.  Just a couple hours after we got home from visiting the elementary and starting the registration process over at the superintendent's office, I had to pick up Will in Ankeny.  We had an appointment at DMACC with an admissions counselor.

 

That went well.  I have an appointment up there later this week to file our FAFSA and from there Will just needs to fill out his application and attend an orientation meeting.  It sounds very affordable and flexible.  Will has options of taking some of his classes on-line and at closer campuses than Ankeny, too.  His thinking is that he'll get his AA degree in 3 semesters and from there transfer to a 4 year school to wrap up his degree.  Hopefully, by the end of his time at DMACC he'll be closer to figuring out exactly what it is he wants to do with his life!

 

He has just become convinced as the school year has progressed that Faith is not for him.  He never intended to attend there more than two years anyway.  He has really enjoyed his classes and told me just yesterday that he's been discovering some real treasures in the school library.  He wants to find out if they will still let him in there just to read once he's no longer a student!  But he hasn't been overly fond of dorm life or some of the more stringent rules.  And that makes sense.  He has always been very independent and mature and I am beginning to get a better idea as time goes on just how much of Paul's role Will assumed after his death.  I rely on him quite a  bit, which I never intended to do.  But he's so capable and willing that it has been easy to hand off a lot of responsibilities to him.  So, anyway, I can see how it would chafe to have to live with things like curfews  and dorm room inspections and things like that.  Will is not a "people" person either (meaning he's like both his parents - perfectly content with their own company and not needing routine interaction with other humans) which I suppose makes communal living in a dormitory more of a pain.

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I guess this may end up being the year of teeth in our family.  As I mentioned before, Ellie is having major dental surgery in April.  Also that month we will find out if Ben gets to have his wisdom teeth out this summer.  This week Will went to our new dentist for the first time for a routine check-up.  One of the things he wasn't too crazy about our old dentist was that for several years they've been pushing him to get his wisdom teeth taken out.  Well, this new guy took a look at Will's jaw and told him he'd better get them out sooner than later.  I can't remember everything Will told me but it's something about the angle at which the teeth are growing in.  So, now we need to go see an oral surgeon.

 

Will was supposed to build me some L-shaped bookshelves for the upstairs landing during those three weeks he's finished at Faith and before he heads back up to camp for the summer.  It sounds like he'll be recovering from dental surgery instead.  Sigh...Oh, and I was hoping Will wouldn't have his  teeth done until he's fully independent so that I wouldn't have to pay for it.  No such luck, I guess!

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The other day Ellie said, "I have to go to preschool cuz I'm not grown up yet!"  I guess that's one reason.

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Will and I had our taxes done this week.  For the first time in forever I didn't get a refund.  In fact, I owed money.  I was shocked.  I figured the fact that I have no real income other than a little pension of Paul's and Social Security and the fact that I'm raising fifteen million children would ensure I'd be getting a refund.  Although, I guess if I think that through...a refund implies that you paid in too much.  Since I didn't really pay anything why do I think I should be owed anything?  It had to do with the money I invested - apparently you get taxed when you make a profit on stuff like that.  Bummer.

 

My tax guy was pretty surprised, too.  He's also my lawyer and I pointed out to him that I had not yet received a bill for  Ben's guardianship work.  He said yeah, he knew that.  He was waiting until I got my taxes done.  So, we wrapped that up and he handed me my bill - $525, which is actually less than I was anticipating.  But still...a word to the wise.  Don't get involved in anything that's going to require a lawyer at some point.  They are expensive!  Anyway, he felt so bad about my lack of refund that he knocked $25 off the price of doing our taxes and told us he wouldn't charge for Will's. 

 

Really, I am ok with the lack of refund.  Will assured me repeatedly that long-term, I'm going to come out ahead, financially, doing what I'm doing.  It's really not a good position to be in when you rely on a hefty refund in order to make your bank account smile.

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I read something interesting this week about black hair.  I haven't ever given a whole lot of thought to hair, black or otherwise, other than my attempts to bring it into some sort of order.  What I read asserted that the afros of the 1970s were, in fact, an "in your face" statement to the white world.  Essentially, this fashion grew (no pun intended) out of the Civil Rights movement a decade earlier.  It was a way of saying "We're not going to be repressed any longer." 

Be that as it may, I have come to realize from different adoption and hair boards I'm on, that white adoptive mothers often choose to style their black daughters' hair in what is called "free hair" meaning, it's basically an afro - sometimes slicked back with a head band or bow.  It's all I've pretty much been able to do for the last year or so since the girls' hair fell out after getting it relaxed.  But this is actually frowned on in the black community.  Also, it's quick and easy and gives my clumsy white fingers a break from attempting to make braids and twists.  So I guess the era of making a statement with their hair has passed.   Evidently, it's more acceptable in the black community to style your daughter's hair in what is called "protective" styles - corn rows, twisties. ropes, etc.  I wonder if black women can look at a black child and know immediately if she's adopted simply by looking at her hair?

 

PS: Tonight  Lizzie is rocking free hair and Ellie has 8 pretty impressive parts all over head.  I'm so proud of those!

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I was doing some shopping the other day.  I still didn't find anything for myself.  It had better stay cold for awhile longer because I have very few clothes for this spring and summer.  I cannot find anything I like.  But, anyway, I found this shirt at Kohls (that I did not buy).  Across the front was written, "Enjoy the little things."  Think about that.  Across the front...across the chest...yeah, probably not a message you want to be imparting to the world...

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 I have this custom made necklace that I bought oh, a couple of years or so before Paul's death.  It consists of a tiny little pearl hung by two 1/4" gold disks.  One is stamped with an "S" and the other with a "P."  I've continued to wear it since Paul's death.  In fact, I wore it the night of his viewing.  It's one of those things that still makes me smile and even gives a certain amount of comfort when I do wear it.  I have a little bamboo box on a bathroom shelf.  I wear jewelry almost every day so I've made it a practice to put the stuff I take off at night into the box and then I empty it every so often.  This necklace has a very fine chain that easily tangles.  Today I noticed it was wrapped around a bracelet so a little bit ago I carried the two pieces into the other room so I could work on untangling them from each other and hopefully not making any knots in the gold chain as I worked.  I got it done and to my surprise, when I held up the necklace, one of the gold disks had slipped off.  That's never happened before - ever.  I knew before I looked, though, which one it was.  Sure enough, the "P" is gone.  I'm assuming/hoping it's in that little box and I can find it and slip it back on the chain.  I haven't looked yet.

 

I have really tried hard to not look for meanings and symbolism since Paul's death.  I know that's a very typical response of the grieving and I've wanted to stay away from that kind of thinking.  But, I do have to wonder.  Is it only coincidence the P is no longer on my necklace?  It sure seems to be symbolic, if nothing else.

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Last week I ran, ran, ran.  The next two weeks shouldn't be quite as busy, although March is definitely shaping up to be more active than January and February were combined.  On tap this week is a little bit of work up at City Hall, taking the kidlets spring clothing shopping - I have a few gaps in their wardrobes to fill and then they should be set for warmer temperatures.  I'm getting our FAFSA done Thursday and that evening Ben has a choir concert.  Friday I am having lunch with the girls' brothers' adoptive mother.  We have a family gym night in Martensdale one night.  And then Saturday I'll be heading to Iowa City for a few hours to watch Ben's dance routine - all 2 minutes and 17 seconds of it.  Oh, he also has 3 practices this week that I need to fit into my schedule.  So, yeah, maybe it is going to be kind of a busier week.

 

That's all right.  I just need to keep moving.  Toward what...I'm not sure yet.  I've always worked best when I've been counting down time to something enjoyable...a new baby, a trip, stuff like that.  Right now, I don't really see anything in my near or distant future that gets me all that excited. 

 

But that's all right.  Elisabeth Elliott always said, "Do the next thing."  I feel like that's all I've been doing for the past 21 months.

 

 I don't think God is displeased.