Archive for Motherhood

Lessons Learned as a Family

So, we adopted.  Without doing ANY research.    No hours logged on-line, digging for answers and information.  Nope.  Just fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants adoption.

We adopted a yellow bellied slider TURTLE.

We were told turtles are the easiest pet to care for.  We were told that her tank was the right size, the lighting was what she required, and the Walmart brand of turtle pellets provided all the nutrition she required.  And we believed what we were told without finding out for ourselves .  Hmmm, that’s a little scary…

Banana has been a member of our family for almost 5 weeks and it wasn’t until after we moved her tank from her home next door and set her up on top of my son’s dresser that I started to examine her living conditions.  Her shell size falls somewhere between a saucer and a dinner plate.  And her tank is 30″ x 12″ x 12″.  Her lighting is a basic aquarium light.  She didn’t look healthy.  So I started my research …

Banana's Back

Banana

I discovered that Banana belongs in a pond.  She should have access to water and an area that is out of the water with a temperature somewhere around 79°.  Her diet should include meal worms, dark lettuce, strawberries.  And of all the turtle pellets out there, the Walmart brand offers NO NUTRITIONAL VALUE to a turtle.  In all actuality, turtles should NEVER be sold as pets.  We don’t know enough about them and it is a crime that pet stores are allowed to sell these critters who don’t belong in a tank.  Basically, we adopted an abused creature and my heart broke into a million pieces that night.

 

Sweet Face

Sweet Face

 

I can really be an instant gratification kind of gal.  I wanted to fix the situation the moment I discovered all of this information.  It was almost midnight, my husband was at the hospital for the night, and I was participating in the slow demise of our stunning adoptee.  I cried.  I paged my husband.  And I handed the next step to him.

Chad got to work and found a tutle rescue outfit.  Turtle Homes matches turtles with an approved adopter — usually a herpetologist or scientist, or someone living in Florida who has undergone investigation and has a pond appropriate for these creatures. 

Our dinner conversation with our two older children was hard and heartbreaking.  Banana was our first pet and she had only been with us for a little over a week.  We all cried.  But they recognized that Banana needed to come to us in order to find a home appropriate for her.  It was a wonderful opportunity to foster lesson-learning as a family, filled with tears and reflection and discussion.  An important journey of growth that we, as a family, got to walk together.

Banana

Banana

 

 

We packed Banana up today and shipped her to Florida.  She will be missed.  But we know that we made the right decision and that we learned valuable lessons together.  

 

 

Godspeed, Banana. 

Adios, Good Friend

Adios, Good Friend

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Blessed

Yellow Rose
Today marks the 2 year anniversary of our appointment with Dr. George P. Henry at the Reproductive Genetics Center in Denver.  It was there — after 4½ days of not knowing how healthy of sick our third child would be — that we found out our Beanie was healthy.  Beanie was our final pregnancy and perhaps because we were briefly  thrust into that chasm that is scary and devastating, I am moved to check in with other families whose outcome has been different than ours.  There are several blogs I check in on, and they are listed to the right of this post, under “Blogs I Read”.  Take a moment to read their stories and do whatever it is you do — say a prayer, send out positive energy, meditate, empathize, send your love to someone you’ve never met — for we are better off for all those we let in to our hearts, minds, thoughts, and lives.

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Goosebumps and Electricity

What more can I say?!  I mean, truly.  I was 20 feet from the man who should become the next President of the United States.  And everyone could feel the electricity in the air.  The energy shifted and all attention and focus was on the message Senator Obama was sending.  Sure, there was cheering.  But more importantly, we all were desperate to hear every word out of his mouth because IT.IS.IMPORTANT.  So, we quieted quickly.  And it was positive and empowering and incredible and unfathomable.  I get goosebumps anytime I talk about what I experienced yesterday and I tear up like I did standing with my children, watching history unfold.  The possibilities are endless and the hope is insurmountable.  My almost-8-year-old with remember where he stood as he listened to Senator Obama.  My 5-year-old will remember the Colorado blue sky and the rocks she tried to adopt and that we were in the presence of greatness.    

I could give you the whole rigmarole of how I missed both kids’ soccer games on Saturday to stand in line (with my 82 year old grandmother and dynamite mom, I might add!) for tickets to see Senator Obama, and then had my three children stand in line with me for hours and hours AGAIN on Monday to get through the 2 metal detectors they had set up for the thousands of people to get through.  I could go on and on about how we got there, and where we stood and who we met (wonderful, intelligent people), and how Chad was able to meet up with us …

But this isn’t about any of that. 
It’s about the goosebumps and electricity that rose up in all of us as Senator Obama took the stage.  It’s about the compelling force that made us all feel like we could make a difference and be a part of something bigger than anything we’ve ever been a part of before.  It IS about the tingle that creeps into my nose and forces warm, salty tears to my eyes when I breathe back in the possibilities of this nation and its promise.  It’s about respecting a man and his values, motivation, and dedication to a nation’s people … and the respect that that brings back to the title: The President of The United States.  And it’s also about what I saw and captured with my camera.  Here is what my children saw:

Red, White, Blue, and Obama

Red, White, Blue, and Obama

 

Colorado Sky and Obama
Colorado Sky and Obama

 

Change We Can Believe In

Change We Can Believe In

 

Just 20 feet away!

Just 20 feet away!

 

Senator Obama

Senator Obama

My grandmother said this is by and large the most important election of her life.  But it is of utmost importance to her grandchildren and great-grandchildren … those who are not able to vote and have a say in their futures yet.  It is up to us to make the best choices for our children and their futures, my friends. 

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On My Mind

Go to www.audreycaroline.blogspot.com .  Since my pregnancy with Ellie, Trisomy 18 has remained a condition for which my heart aches.  And although my Ellie Kate was miraculously healthy, I sob each and every time I recall my brief experience with what it means to potentially carry a baby who is sick.  Audrey Caroline’s family recently experienced the loss of their newborn — Audrey had Trisomy 18. 

Please take a moment and say a prayer, think strengthening thoughts, send heart-felt love through the breezes ~ whatever it is that you do ~ for this family.  And then meditate on your own numerous blessings.  I’ve spent the month doing that myself and know that Audrey has truly left a legacy.  I am in awe of Audrey’s mother’s courage and honesty … and her words have made my mind and heart expand.  I am a better woman and mother having read her journey.

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Gross Grooming

I have a sickness.
I love cradle-cap.  I adore boogers.  I crave the milk crust that can collect behind the ears.  I  swoon for toe goo.  I am a fan of infant neck cheese.  And I can’t resist bits of ear wax.

When the kids were itty-bitties, I would say, “God must love me.  A child with cradle-cap!  I have been blessed!!”  I considered it time well-spent if I had “worked” on the scalp that day.  I also took great pleasure in scooping out the neck cheese after a particularly messy feeding.  Milk crust behind the ears is something I still get to enjoy as my 13 month old still suffers from the crust.  I look forward to clipping fingernails and toe nails … offering me a chance to dig the jam out from between their toes.  Yes, I still attack my seven-year-old, poor guy!  Boogers offer me particular pleasure as I get to utilize my favorite grooming accessory, the cotton swab.  Almost nothing gives me such satisfaction as my successful extraction of a ball of slime, or a particularly challenging set of wicker furniture of the nostrils.  But the thing that will have me committed is my obsession with ear wax.  I specifically leave my pinkie fingernail a bit longer so that I can dig out the stubborn  flecks caught in the ear hairs.  [I believe this can be traced back to my junior high school band director.  May the gods bless his genius … but man, as first-chair clarinet, I had to spend a lot of time checkin’ out his ear gunkus.  A.LOT.  Yick.]  And here’s the kicker … I don’t stop at the kids.  Yep.  I attack my poor husband.  Go ahead, puke in your mouth a little bit.  Even I shake my head and ask aloud, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS CHICK??”       

I am a gorilla.  Next thing you know, I’ll turn my face to the heavens and ask for head-lice so I can mess with the nits …
Let’s hope not.

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