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Saturday Six

Back in “ye olden days” when we were but five, I always wrote my “Friday Five” editions. Now we live in this new and modern era of six and now my title is irrelevant as none of us is getting “voted off” the 1100 square feet anytime soon. I found myself considering such titles as the “Friday Five: The Not Five Edition” or concepts such as cutting the least interesting person of the week. Seriously, my worst idea in quite some time. So for now, I gave you the “Saturday Six“!

… or rather I will give you the “Saturday Six” after I stop one of my children from eating a refrigerator magnet…
As my sister Carrie would say: “Real talk“.

The topic that’s coming to mind as I compose this is thankfulness.

Bob: This week, Bob’s tireless effort was officially recognized by his employer and they gave him Friday off of work. If I were tweeting this, I would say #AWESOME.

Ellie: My moment of the week actually has to do with Bob as well. My husband does heroic things for us every day, but there are some days that he goes above and beyond into something truly amazing. I won’t elaborate further at this time, but yesterday was one of those days and I’m still smiling as I think of it. See? 🙂

Darcy: …is most likely thankful for the safe removal of a splinter from her finger yesterday. This girlie has her mother’s sense of drama and there has never been anything so horrifying for her, I’m sure. It is still much discussed. Oh, and I’m sure she’d also be fairly thankful for parental bribe of ice cream she got after said splinter. Come to think of it … So am I!

Aidan: When I talked to Aidan, he informed me that he was thankful for chocolate. Aren’t we all? Definitely a proud mothering moment right there.

Chase: When I pinned Chase down for a little chat, all I could get out of him was “Uh….I TWO!!!!”. That in and of itself is a point for rejoicing. Here’s hoping that he makes it to three.

Karsten: If chins could talk, Karsten would tell you that he’s thankful that he acquired the neurological skills to pick up and devour dry cereal. But they can’t and he won’t … Yet, he is. Are you with me?

There! You made it through the first “Six“! Are you stunned, stymied, suspenseful…? Okay, I’ll stop…

But hey, what are you thankful for this week/end?

20120623-210307.jpg
Oh yes…I’m also thankful for this picture because it makes me laugh.

Story of My Life (update)

Hey!  If you’re new to e-family or even if you’re not new and you just haven’t had a chance to catch up on this, here are the different chapters from my testimony of God’s faithfulness over the last several years.  Make sure to come back tomorrow as well because there’s another chapter that I’ve been working on … short and sweet … but NOT TO BE MISSED.

Prologue: It Confounds Logic

Is There Another Way?

The Dual Road

A Moment of Insight

A Time of Joy in Shifting Sand

The Peaceful Decision

If You’re Lucky, You Get A Phone Call

March 5th, pt I

March 5th, pt II

Coming tomorrow [05/23/2011]  … “Child of Grace“

 

My War On Germs

Is it Spring yet?

Sickness, be gone!  BE GONE, I say!  …hmm, this isn’t working as well as I thought it would.

I’m stymied as to how the last several weeks have turned green (in a snotty, not Spring-y or environmental-y way).  Are my children licking each other?  I’m seriously considering renaming one child “The Nose”.  Seriously.

I can handle the noses, and the coughs, and the sneezes, wheezes, hacking, fussing, fevers, …you get the picture? … there is one thing I absolutely can’t handle.

What I absolutely can’t stand in this house (or anywhere else for that matter) is the STOMACH FLU.

This last week, the cheeky germ decided to appear despite my sternest warnings that it should not.

[tangent alert]

On this topic, have you ever noticed that kids only seem to throw up in public or at 3:30 in the morning? I’ve always wondered about that … it’s like some twisted flu protocol that throwing up must occur at the worst possible moment for all individuals involved.  Come to think of it, I’m not really aware of a good time, to get the flu, but I still don’t get why it can’t suddenly come upon you at say, 7:30 PM while you happen to in the bathroom already.

I once had the flu onslaught in a moving car …on the way home from a babysitting job … being driven by the person who’d hired me to babysit … True Story. (but I’ll save my gross embarrassments for another post)

[phew, back on track…]

The “stats” on the germ warfare in the Ewoldt household currently include: one trip to the ER for rehydration, 15 gallons of electrolyte-infused beverage (perhaps a slight exaggeration), and so many loads of laundry that I’ve lost count and my washer and I are no longer on speaking terms.

After the typical fashion of my genetic material, I’ve spent most of the week in circles … “Where’s the disinfectant?!”, “Somebody grab the wipes!”, “Can I get more paper towel?” … until yesterday morning, when I had a breakthrough which  must be akin to the discovery of fire or some other equally ground-breaking scientific discovery.

Behold, THE BOX!  Yes, I’m aware that I need a much better name for a survival kit of this magnitude, but at this moment, it alludes me.

Equipped with handles for quick carrying action and stuffed with everything you need in case of a projectile emergency on the part of your two year old (who is currently eschewing the whole “vomit into a receptacle” theory as antiquated and below him), I thought it was so cool, I had to take a picture! Just for you!

I also had to include the picture of my other survival kit. Though not neatly ensconced in a box (candles and boxes not mixing well, etc), this is … what can I say?   Again, just had to help you picture it:

Ah, I’m feeling more relaxed already!

 

What’s in YOUR household “survival kit”?

 

The Peaceful Decision

I listened to the strange voice on the other end of the phone telling me that it was a doctor at a hospital in Arkansas and my mind went blank.  Just days before Christmas, my name and number had been with my grandmother at the time of a nasty fall, so she’d given the information to the hospital as an emergency contact. That was all it took to alert the whole family. She’d slipped on some ice. It was just a broken hip.   I’ve since learned that there is no such thing as “just” a broken hip…

My parents had to go be with her. My parents … the glue holding all the craziness together … left right before Christmas.  It was awful.  That was probably one of the worst Christmases I can remember.   We were so sad, but in some ways, for the first time in months, my sisters and I had to see each other and communicate.  So, it was painful but good all at the same time.

The original thought had been to get Grandma Poole installed back in her house post surgery and return to Chicago, but there were complications, and so, despite being back in town briefly over New Year, my parents began logging what would be a little over two months of their lives in Arkansas.   During this time, we talked almost constantly on the phone.   I’d call on my way to work in the morning, and on my way back in the evenings, and sometimes on some days (depending on the circumstances), I’d call several times in between.   Our communication was strong and my ability to stand on my own in this (by God’s grace) got better.

Two really big events occurred in my life during this separation as well.

First, after much deliberation on the part of the board and discussion between the leaders of the institution and my pastor, it was decided that the institution at which I was employed, while Christian, was not a church and could not exercise authority over this issue the same way a church potentially could and so I was told that they would be happy if I would keep my job and receive all the maternity benefits therein.  I would like to stress this point as a wonderful thing – this decision alone helped me talk to students (for the rest of my time at the college) who felt as if they were drowning in a sea of legalism – there was hope – God was at work in the hearts of many.  Having this piece in place also freed me up to finally make the decision on the potential of adoption.

Over the holiday season, I had talked to a couple adoption agencies, and though they were wonderful and encouraging, I couldn’t shake the feeling of almost nauseous unease.   Every reason for adopting (for me) ended with the phrase “get on with your life.” This felt so selfish and wrong to me.   How could I ever “get on with my life?” This was HUGE and life-changing. Besides this, the best reasons for adoption (as I listed them) were to provide a good home atmosphere with a loving family for the child – something that I had to give between my nuclear family, my extended family, and finally, my church family! At this point, I don’t feel the need to go into detail about the aspects/influence of being raised in a non-traditional or single parent family, but that was a serious concern that I definitely considered and even sought counsel on. [Please note: I would also very much like to stress that these arguments are my personal feelings on my personal situation and cannot/should not be applied to the concept of adoption in other situations without deep and prayerful consideration.]

It came down to this question for me: Was this child in need of rescuing?

Birth mother is over 21: check.

Completed college degree: check.

Gainfully employed: check.

Loving and supportive family: check.

No! I could not find a strong enough reason for the necessity of a rescue.

Now came the time for prayer: “Lord, I feel that our home would be a good atmosphere for this little girl – is that what you want for her?” …

I’ll never forget the night I was sitting in bed, working on a bible study, and a verse that I was reading stood out to me with the answer. I called my parents in tears, my heart finally at peace – the burden of decision gone! This baby was my firstborn, my daughter, and she would stay with me.

God’s timing on that decision and the peace it brought was perfect and good.

I would need that peace with me in the coming weeks.

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