traveling

We just got back from traveling. We left on Monday morning and returned on Saturday night. We love going to see Grandpa Larry, Grandma Karen (Gary's folks), and Grandma Arlene (Gary's grandma).

We break up our journey from Zeeland to Branson into two days. We stayed at a hotel in St. Louis and enjoyed time with my best friend Karen and her fabulous family. The coolest part of the hotel was. . . everything! Pool, room, dinner, breakfast, pop. . . .what a great place! After visiting the zoo in the morning, we mosey on through the Ozarks to see Grandpa Larry and Grandma Karen!!!

The kids were so great and we enjoy lots of eating out, two days at Silver Dollar City, Kung Fu, dancing to the music on the jukebox, sleeping in the Coca-Cola bedroom, playing with the cool toys in Grandma Karen's closet, amazing views, and being tucked into bed by doting Grandparents (just the kids, although they may have tucked in Gary and me if we had asked).

The trip back was done all in one day. All. In. One. Day. We did remarkably well. I did learn some things on the ride back. I'd like to share, after all, it is my blog. :)

1. A lunch stop will take at least forty-five minutes no matter what you do to try and speed things up.

2. When you need a play place, you will not find one.

3. Kids who can normally ride for an hour in the car without a dvd player can not go for more than ten minutes before asking for a video.

4. Even if they say they don't have to go potty at the gas station, they must go potty at the gas station.

5. You can fit five nuggets and three M&M's into your snack bowl. That is dinner. Let's keep going!

6. If you say "no video for the next twenty minutes", someone will fall asleep.

7. If Penny cries a lot, she probably has a dirty pants. Stop soon or we'll all be sorry.

8. After 10 hours on the road, the driver and the front seat passenger think even the stupidest things are funny.

9. Hot Tamales (the candy) are a must for any road trip over five hours.

10. If you are allergic to beans, don't order the Pintos and cheese and then eat them all.

11. Where did all that trash come from?

Pictures (hopefully) sometime this week.

Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving! I'm sitting in a very comfy chair in Branson while my kids watch Little Bear and we wait for the rest of the household to wake up. Grandpa Larry and Grandma Karen (Gary's folks) as well as Grandma Arlene (Gary's grandma) not only sleep in a bit more, but they are also on Central time. :)

Over the past few days, I've been thankful for many things. Wonderful grandparents, a safe and fun road trip, seeing my best friend, eating out, Silver Dollar City, seeing my kids have a great time in a pool. . . and the list could go on and on. I can't even being to express how thankful I am for my husband and kids. I bless God that He chose to bring Gary and I together and that I have four kids! It was only eight years ago I thought I would never get married or have children. I was content to serve God in His Kingdom through teaching--something I loved doing and certainly miss at times. Yes, I am indeed thankful for the life I am living. Church, couple friend, a great school for my kids, some good mentors in my life, and my electric blanket also join my list of things I'm thankful for this year.

Yet, in this time of Thanksgiving, there is a rather large cloud with a severe warning attached to it that is a very real part of my life. Dad. The past two weeks have seen more drama attached to them since this whole thing began. It is hard for me to find things to be thankful for in this situation. When I last posted, dad was living at Lakeside Vista in Holland. He had insisted while at Holland Hospital that he needed to live in a place where his laundry would be washed and his meals cooked for him. Not only was he very unhappy at Lakeside Vista, he became angry about it. He lashed out at my mom on numerous occasions when she would come to visit. He lashed out at his counselor. He lashed out at other visitors. He has gotten so angry and so unstable that my mom is no longer allowed to visit dad alone. We are very afraid for her safety. He also decided to get medication (from the evil doctor who knows about his addition, yet refuses to do anything about it! grrr). . . the same medication that has harmed him so, that he is very addicted to, that he claimed over and over again he "was not on". Lies and lies with a side of lies.

He became so very unstable that he showed up at my mom's house and demanded to be let in. Mom called the police and with their, my Uncle Larry and Pastor Scripp's (the pastor at Graafschap) help, dad was brought to Holland Hospital. He has been readmitted to the psych floor. Where he will go next is totally in dad's hands. He doesn't want to go anywhere where he will be humbled. Friends, we all need to be humbled.

When I went to visit my dad last week, I brought him school pictures of the boys. We talked about them a bit and I asked dad if he wanted to see them again. He did. I then asked him to get busy living. Work to get yourself better. Work hard to discover truths about yourself. He just looked at me. His meal was delivered to his room and I asked dad why he didn't eat with the other residents. His response? "I don't eat with those people?"

Why did he get kicked out of transitional living in Petosky? "I don't belong with those people." Why won't he go live at the Holland City Mission? "I'm not one of those people." See, dad will say that he is an addict, but I don't think he really believes it. He doesn't acknowledge that he can't do it alone, that it is hard work to live in recovery, that he shouldn't have any available cash with which to purchase drugs, that he works hard and spends lots of time thinking of ways to try and manipulate the people in his life. . .he is very good at talking the talk. I continue to pray that God will humble him. Of course, I need to ask God to humble the parts of me that are arrogant and prideful as well.

Our future is so very uncertain again. Let me share one story with you as I close out this very long entry. :) There is a recovery meeting for family members of addicts through OAR (Ottagan Addictions Recovery http://www.oar-inc.org/index.html) that meets on Tuesday nights. Gary and I take turns going with my mom who goes every week. Each week we examine another topic related to addiction. It has been good. The analogy went something like this. As a family, we see the addict dying, almost as if they are drowning. They started with just dabbling in the water, dabbling in their addiction. We think that they will come out someday, that they will stop getting too far out. Soon however, it becomes apparent that they are in too deep. They may not even acknowledge it. We may even realize that they are beginning to drown. When they are drowning, we want to go and rescue them, and many of us have tried this. The problem with jumping into the water is that they will pull us under, they will harm us and we will end up dying with them. Instead, we stand on the shore and throw as many things out to them as we can. Sadly, they often refuse to grasp whatever help we offer to them. We cry and shout and beg and plead for our addict to get help---we do everything that we can do, yet unless our addict accepts help, we grieve as we watch them drown.

It grieves us as we watch dad drown. . . drown in his addiction, his pride, his lies, his arrogance, his manipulation. . .it is so very hard. I keep telling him that I love him and asking him to get the help that he needs, but unless he decides that he is sick. . . .

Thanks for your prayers.

My daughter

Noel is standing by me, asking many many questions and making many statements. Here are three quotes in order.

"Mom, are you getting happy now?" She then proceeds to take my face in her hands and give me a very gentle kiss.

I turn back to the computer to try and get a recipe that I need for a chocolate bake-off.

"Mom, your pony tails make you look like a girl." Thanks Noel I say as I'm laughing.

"Mom, you have something in your teeth. Why did you save something in your teeth mama?"

I'm laughing very loudly now and logging on to the blog so I can remember the moment. There are times when my kids drive me crazy, and then there are moments like these when I don't want them to grow up. Love it!

happy quote

Garrison: "Mom, maybe this could be the day that God helps me get my tooth out?"

God offers encouragement

I subscribe to a daily text e-mail. I must admit that I often just delete it. Today, God gave me this encouragement. I just love Him.

Psalm 128
1 Kings 11:1-25; John 15:18-16:4

The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down. Psalm 146:8

There appeared a woman... She was bent over and was quite unable to
stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said,
'Woman, you are set free from your ailment.' When he laid his hands on
her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. Luke
13:11-13

God of glory and honor, restore unto us this day our ailing hearts,
minds, and bodies. Revive us so that we may not only give thanks for our
wholeness, but also offer ourselves to serve you with gladness and
glorify your name. Amen.

Weights

Do you ever feel like you are carrying a ton of weights? I do. Right now.

Yesterday at Bible Study, Beth Moore (love her and she is not annoying to me) talked about finding your destiny. Sometimes this happens when you feel like you are carrying so much already. Makes me wonder if God is trying to get my attention. DUH!

Folks, I'm carrying and juggling and laughing and crying and stressing and forgetting. . . lots of action here. I e-mailed friends recently and asked them to please pray for me. I received great responses: I will, I'm praying my guts out, a phone message, and even a real hug. It can be hard to say, "I'm not doing well and I need your help." To the folks that I asked, I say thanks. Those who read this may know of one or even several situations that I'm in or preparing for. Will you add me and my family to your list? Do you ever feel like something is "going down"? Yup. You can pray about that too.

Has it really been two years?

Two years ago today, I woke up and looked over to see a beautiful little Chinese boy. I'd met him the day before and on this day, I was going to declare to an official that I wanted to keep him.

Gary and I dressed up, put together some gift bags for the officials, and headed to the Civil Affairs Office. We put it in red ink that we didn't find fault with this child and we wanted to be his parents.

Today, Simon can't remember the Chinese songs that he used to sing to us. He doesn't remember living in the orphanage. He doesn't remember who his friends were, that he got to ride in a huge jet, or how to use chopsticks. He does remember who his Grandma Karen and Grandpa Larry are. He remembers his colors in Spanish, that I said we could make cookies together, that his brother wronged him, and that Fall Family Festival happens every year. He remembers Bible Stories from church. He remembers that I love him. . . then again I tell him that every day.

When we set out on our adoption journey, I never pictured my boy. Now, I can't picture my life without him. I love him and love what he gives to our family. He has an incredible smile and a caring spirit. He loves routine. He loves to take care of others and will defend his position with great stubbornness. He can run very fast. He is focused and can do so many great things because of his determination. He can also get frustrated when he can't create what he has set out to do.

I can't believe it has been two years since I made a commitment to take care of Yang Heng Yi. Simon Yiyi Arthur Sprick has changed our lives and I'm better for it. He is worth getting to know.

Keep on laughing

So. . . Gary was sick yesterday. I anticipated that someone would go down after me. He stayed home and spent a day on "king bed island" just as I had done the day before.

I got up with the girls rather early this morning (5:00--thank you daylight savings blah blah!). We did the whole morning routine thing. Gary stayed home again. . . he still wasn't 10-4. I asked if he would stay with Penny while I took the boys to school and then got groceries with Noel. We were out of milk and orange juice. And carrots. I had it in my head that I needed to make soup today. You know how that goes.

As we enter Meijer (A.K.A. Thrifty Acres), Noel looks and me and says, "Mama. . . Mama. . . my tummy." Then she stopped talking and began vomiting. I of course tried to catch it. What great mama wouldn't try to catch vomit in her hands. It makes perfect sense of course. :) I hugged my crying child and tried to get her to calm down just a bit. She instead decided that announcing that she had just vomited was a much better choice. I'm sure the folks entering the store appreciated hearing the news before they actually saw us in the puddle of said vomit. Thankfully, I was right by the cart wipes, so I grabbed a ton of wipes and began cleaning up. A neighbor who was at the customer service desk brought over some toilet paper to help clean up Noel. A checker brought two plastic bags so put the trash in. I cleaned up the floor and my daughter as best as I could, grabbed my purse and my grocery bags, and left the store. Had you been there, you would have heard her telling every person that we met that she had just "frowed up" (spelling correct) and that now she had "the flu".

I got her home and tucked into her own island on the couch with Sid the Science Kid. I changed my clothes and returned to Meijer without any children (wow!) and went in the other door. I managed to run into several (5) people that I knew. I thanked God that I could be at Meijer and have friends to meet. That wasn't always the case. It was nice.

I managed to scan all of my groceries and near the end of the order I greeted my wonderful friend Rebecca who pulled up behind me. We chit chatted and I scanned my coupons. I'm saving money baby! The problem is this: I don't have any money to spend. I had my purse, my phone, my grocery list, and my coupons. I didn't have a wallet. I laughed and laughed. What a day it had already been. Thankfully, today's angel was Rebecca who paid for my groceries and graciously allowed me to pay her later.

Now the kids are all sleeping and I'm relaxing. I'm still laughing. It is quiet, but I'm still laughing.

My island

I'm on an island today. A king size island.

I woke up about 5:00 this morning, lay for awhile and realized that all was not well. I whispered to my dear husband that I thought I was sick. I don't have time to be sick. Simon was the estrella (the star) today and I was supposed to go with him, provide the snack, and celebrate all things Simon and Spanish. I was supposed to make chili for supper. I was supposed to enjoy the outdoors on this amazing day. I was supposed to shower and get out of my pajamas. Twas not to be.

I was up for a couple of hours to coordinate the breakfast/get ready for school thing and then I was off to my island. You'd think a busy mama might enjoy a day in bed. You'd think it would be fun to just lay. Nope. It isn't fun when you feel so crummy.

Gary volunteered in school. My mom took care of the girls this morning. Shanda: she lay low.

Gary has been checking in on me. I've called him a couple of times on his cell phone for help. I also called him to come and give me a pep talk. I'm feeling a little better this evening. I'm keeping down some crackers and gatorade. I haven't had caffeine all day which I'm sure is the reason for this crazy headache. I'm bored and I miss my kids. I just want to cuddle them and kiss them. My poor Penny. I'm sure she is very confused as to why her mama isn't kissing her so many times today.

For all the times when I just wish I could have a break: I'll remember this day. I wouldn't trade all the craziness and drama and noise and joy and stickers and messes and meals and laundry for being sick.

Truth

I've been thinking about truth today. Why? Dad drama. Dad is hearing truth. He is believing truth. We are also listening to truth, believing it. Then, why the drama? Dad's truth is different than our truth. Huh?!?

He is choosing to listen to people who tell him what he wants to hear. He finds people who don't know his story, who see an old gentleman who is missing a leg, whose family has abandoned him (this of course is not the truth!) and who think that dad is perfectly charming (that is the truth!). :) These folks tell dad that he is doing the right thing. They tell dad that he is going to be fine. They tell him that medication will help him feel better. Dad doesn't want to talk with me, my brother, my mom, our counselors, many of his friends, his AA sponsor, many members of his family. . . according to dad, they don't tell him the truth.

Or course, I believe that I am speaking the truth. Why do I think that I am the right one and that dad is not? I first begin in the Word. I go to Christian advisers. I listen to experts on addiction. I drink up advice and encouragement from those who have "been in the same boat". So it seems, we are an an impasse and one of us is going to have to give in. Let me tell ya, it would be so much easier to give in! I'm learning that addicts are so very smart and man, can they wear you out!!! He spends so much time finding ways to "wear us down". It would be easier to say "fine" and be done with it. Dad often acts like my four year old who keeps on asking in an effort to wear me down, which sometimes happens I might add. BLECK! The more difficult path instead is to stand in the truth: despite dad's manipulating. Despite the condemnation of those around us. Despite the roller coaster ride that is our life (especially my mom's!) Despite the losses of sleep, time, and so much money. I keep repeating that truth will rise. God's truth always rises to the top. I must stay in the truth, stay in the light, and stay the course.

So, why stay in the drama? Because I LOVE MY DAD. If I didn't still love him and still care about him and still want him to get better, then I'd be done with him. I'd tell my mom every day that she needed to kick him to the curb. I'd take his picture off of my wall. I'd stop talking about Gramps with my kids. I'd stop praying about it. Sometimes doing the right thing is doing the hard thing. We love dad, so we are going to do the "right" thing, even if it is so much more difficult. Hopefully the scales will fall from his eyes and he'll see someday.

Also----here is another tough part. Have I ever disregarded a friend because they didn't tell me what I wanted to hear? Have I chosen friends wisely and am I willing to listen to truth from them? God has given me an amazing helpmate. Am I letting him help me? Am I asking him to share difficult truths? If I'm asking Dad to grow and work to get better, I'd better be willing to do the same.

favorites

Noel: Mom, my princesses are sick today.

Me: Really? That is too bad. What is the matter?

Noel: They have germs and drank too much soda.

Simon: Mom, why does Seth every time call me "dude"?

Mom: Well, often we call our good friends dude. It's o.k.

Simon: I'm not dude, I'm Simon.

Mom: True. . .

Simon: Mom, if he call me dude, then that start with the letter "d" and I start with the letter "s". I can't be dude.

Garrison: Mom, I think this is a healthy candy. (Almond Joy)

Mom: Why do you say that?

Garrison: It is crunchy inside, so that mean's that it is healthy! It is a walnut and that is crunchy, and this is crunchy, so it is mom, it is healthy! Plus, it is made of chocolate, and chocolate is very healthy.

Simon: No is isn't, chocolate isn't healthy right mom?

Mom: Depends on when you eat it.

Mystery

I'm looking for about 18 pudding cups. I know. It seems like it would be easy to find 18 pudding cups, but they are missing. Butterscotch, Chocolate, and Banana Cream.

A few weeks back, Simon had hand/foot/mouth blah blah and could only eat pudding and jell-o for a few days. I stocked up on pudding cups. Though he wasn't thrilled with the sores in his mouth, he did enjoy eating pudding and blue jell-o while his brother had to suffer with broccoli, snipe, cow liver, and grasshoppers. O.K., not exactly true, but he did enjoy eating a pudding when the others had to eat real food. The puddin' eatin' came to a halt when he began to ask for cereal and then would follow it up by asking for pudding--"My mouth still hurts." Yeah right--if you can eat cereal, you don't need to eat pudding at every meal.

I put the pudding in a secret place, known only to me, so that I could bring it out for special occasions. Now, the place has become so secret that I can't find it. I've looked in all the usual spots and in all my secret spots. No. Pudding. I think they are hanging out with my favorite sunglasses. They are missing as well.