Touch, touch, touch, feeeeel!

I got a new toy earlier last week. I really do feel like a kid in a candy shop! Yay for iPod Touch! I tell ya, there's nothing that makes feeling up your personal electronics feel quite so right.

Til next squeak,

A second guess

I've been debating with myself over talking about this. I'm forever second guessing myself. So, I'll take the plunge, and what will be will be.

This past week, I had a word from God. That word was quite distinct. God told me to MOVE! Ah, but not move in the way I want to. Oh no.
I prayed about it. I asked my friends their opinions and for their prayers. I asked Mr. P. and whined to him over it. In the end, God won. Isn't that often how it goes?
And what on earth caused me so much turmoil you ask? Ahhh there's the rub.
I started school this week. No, not college, as most people my age mean when they say they are going back to school. I am going for my GED.
Yuppers, I never graduated from high school. In fact, I dropped out twice!
This is probably one of the more nauseating, stress-inducing, ripping my hair out, crying out at night kinda things I've done in a long time.
Then again, I am forever second guessing myself, so maybe I'll adjust to this all a little closer to the actual test date.

Til next squeak,

Who planned that trip?

I've always been the type to get all reflective (inflective? inflictive? infected? bah.) at the close of the year. Perhaps it's because of the wild ride my life has oftentimes been. (heheh Mr. P., stole your blog title) Regardless, in years previous, I've kept my observations of the year to myself, but this year, I have the Maze! w00t! That means now I have all of you to annoy with my dorkitude.

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This year has been interesting to say the least. For one thing, I've managed to blog for a whole year! Yay! I don't stick with much for long so that really is saying something. When I set out in this Maze, I thought somewhere in the back of my mind that it wouldn't last long because I'm not the writer in the family. Mr. P. has always been the one with the passion for the written arts. I discovered that I enjoy this thing called blogging more than I ever dreamed I might. Lucky for you huh?
Part of the dubious joys of blogging has been watching my inner (and often very hidden) self come through and grow. I'm not the person I was at the beginning of the year, and that's both good and bad. With me, it's always been a 1 step forward, 2 steps back proposition. As I get older, I find that assessment holds even more weight.
Speaking of weight, never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd have joined a gym. <---- gotta love this! I'm looking forward to heading back, now that I have clearance from my surgeon.
Another great segue! Having surgery this year was certainly not in my plans back in January, but I'm grateful for it now. Each day feels like a renewed blessing. Corny to be sure, but very true. It's amazing how you can adjust to long-term pain, but then can quickly forget just how bad it was once you've been set free of it.
Being set free...reminds me of how far I was coming in my faith at the start of the year, and how far I've fallen now. That ol' 1-2 step thing again. In my short time as a Christian, I've had to face many personal demons, and it seems this wacky election year brought many old issues up again for me. Aside from all the ridiculous bickering and BS in the months leading up to Election Day, many of the issues that come with a POTUS race force one to define how they look at the world, and thus in turn, what kind of person they are or hope to be. For those of us with a religious bent, it becomes so much more. It's enough to make you want to not be a grown-up anymore.
Growing up. Ahh. Not only has it been bittersweet to watch my boys grow by leaps and bounds this year, but to find myself feeling like an adult for the first time as well. It's a strange thing for me, and one of the few remaining psychological strongholds my father had on me.
Parents. Meh. Actually, this year has been a defining one for me as a mother. Now I look at my kids in a new light, and hopefully, any other kidlets that come along will help me along this road. The boys have really helped refine me, and challenge me as a mother and person. This year has been the first since their return home that I did not look at our home life and think only of how lacking it was.
Home. As far as 4 letter words go, that's about the best in my mind. This year has been one of tremendous growth and change in our home, and in my marriage. Mr. P. and I have finally figured each other out, and gotten this lil sapling of marital bliss to put down roots. After being rocked by the storms life has thrown our way, it's so good to be where we are. I wouldn't change it for the world.

I know back at the beginning of this journey into blogging, I shared my heart's verse.

Proverbs 16:9- In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.

Looking back, it's pretty clear that He had a different path planned out for me than I did. I can only guess at what 2009 may have in store for us. Lord willing, it'll be just as inspiring and exciting as this one was. For all it's frustrations and fears, highs and lows, 2008 has been a year like no other. I'm glad this trip wasn't all that I planned it to be. His steps were far better than mine.

Til next squeak,

Wow! It only took 9 years!

Sunday was...interesting. At least from a psychological point of view. And for those who know me well, they'll recognize that I'm forever over-analyzing things. Especially when those things involve my in-laws.
I've been with Mr. P. for 9 years (in case you couldn't tell by the post title LOL) and in that time, well, let's just say I've had a hate-hate relationship with his family. The feeling's mutual I'm sure. Although a lot of these issues stem from when our kids were in foster care and subsequently came home, some do come from various other personal issues as well. It's been a fun trip to say the least.
So when Mr. P. and I (me? are you sure?) were invited to the family Christmas shindig this weekend, we were both somewhat wary. Admittedly, I was more on edge than my better half. After all, I'm forever the one who has to make an impression.
Anyway, I bit the bullet, and we went. I must say I'm impressed. It only took 9 years to get to this point. I wasn't treated outright rudely (although flat out ignored by some family members...hey, I'll take that over how it's been in the past) and things went pretty smoothly. My kids had fun, and to me, that's what matters most.
I don't know if Mr. P. feels the same (perhaps he'll chime in with a comment), but it was somewhat strange to feel like an adult around his family. Maybe it was the fact that my SIL is now bringing her SO to family events. Maybe it was the discussion of speeding tickets I overheard from his younger cousin. Maybe it's the fact that I didn't have a baby on my hip like I did the last time I celebrated the holidays with my in-laws. (that oughta date the last time I went over there...my kids are 5 and 7) Who knows? But it's an odd look at oneself nonetheless.
Hopefully this neutral vibe will hold for Christmas dinner at my MIL's. Here's to praying it will. After all, it's been 9 years now. Maybe that's all it takes.

Til next squeak,

On thick-headedness

I've been thinking about this. How many people do you know who've had their kids put into foster care? If you're reading this blog, then right now, you know at least 1. How many parents do you know of who've had DCF/CPS called on them? How about an opened case?
Not many? Yeah, I didn't think so. Believe me, those of us who have gone through the wringer don't really talk about it. So...I've been thinking about it.
I don't know if your perceptions are like mine were, but when you think of a family who's gotten themselves enmeshed with the State, what do you think? Probably some ghetto family, maybe a single mom, seriously neglected kids at the least and some major issues with the parents. Now keep that image in your head. What about that same family, only after the case is closed? Now what's your image like? Kids still in foster care, Mom's rights terminated? Or maybe the family is still whole, but they've gone back to their old ways, proving this "lesson" hasn't taught them a thing?
Yeah, I used to be right there with ya.
Actually, after our own experiences, I could give you quite a few other hypothetical outcomes. But here's the thing. Not all families who've been through the system turn out like any of those scenarios.
Let me tell you about us. One thing we learned early on in our DCF experience was to claim your issues, and take responsibility. Yes, ma'am. It's not the state's fault you screwed up; it's not your mama or your daddy's fault; it's not because you didn't have everything in life you always wanted. Honey-child, it's YOUR FAULT. And if you can't admit that, claim it, and change it, well, you're gonna be spending a lot of time hollerin' at the wind. Speaking of which...
Another thing we learned was that no matter how fair or unfair, right or wrong, legal or illegal you may feel the Department's actions or rules are, well, they just ARE. You can take that to the bank. It's kinda like arguing with the wind. You can waste your time and energy screaming at it all you want. You can tell it to you won't be effected by it. But then again, you can't see it. You can't tell with any certainty whether it's coming at you from the north or south. You may think it'll come in a roar, but then it could always surprise you by whispering through your town. You just never know, and you can never truly control it.
Now if you are a thick headed kinda person (much like we are), it could go 1 of 3 ways. The 1st thing that could happen is that you don't learn those things I pointed out above. You spend the whole time trying to tell the state what to do, and ultimately, your kids are taken. After that? Well, Parent #1 is still ramming her thick head against the wall, screaming about how she was wronged and is gonna get her babies back...1 day. The 2nd thing that could happen is you could try to be thick headed with the state, eventually realize it's not getting you anywhere, "play them", and once they close out, go back to your old ways. How long do you think it'll be before Parent #2 gets another DCF/CPS case opened? Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too. Then the 3rd thing that could happen is you can take that thick headedness, channel it in productive ways against the state (the key here is the word productive), learn from your experience (ya thick headed doof) and make sure that once the case is closed, it never happens again.
I'm proud to say that we fall into the same category as Parent #3.
The one thing I've been really thinking on is that many people don't realize that there are Category 3 families out there. We do our best to make sure our kids are healthy, happy, and successful in school. We pray that God will give us the serenity to accept the things we can't change (like the DCF rules we will live by for the rest of our lives), the courage to change the things we can (like the situations that may have caused the case to be opened in the 1st place), and the wisdom to know the difference. (can you tell Mr. P. and I come from a long line of 12-steppers?)
All I'm saying is that when it comes us Category 3ers, give us a little grace. We're not calling you out on anything when we make comments about our parenting vs yours. Give us a little support. We still live each day in fear of that knock on the door. And give us your prayers. God knows us thick headed people need 'em.

Til next squeak,

So that's the difference!

Mr. P. and I love going to the movies when we have the chance. It's not too often we get to go, but we almost always agree on what to see.
Everyone I know is all a-flutter about Fireproof, which is apparently the fall's biggest chick flick. Bleck. Not my thing. I know that makes me a bad Christian, bad wife, bad woman, and probably a bad person in general that I find that movie just sappy and ridiculous.
Mr. P. and I are hoping to have the extra funds (heck, any incoming funds, but that's a different story) in October to see Saw 5. Mwuhahahahaha! I guess that's just the kind of people we are. A gory murder thriller will do more for our marriage than an uplifting little movie about saving ones marriage through God. Speaks volumes huh?

Til next squeak,

Sometimes I revel in it

Only in the ghetto can you get away with this at 9am.
I'm sitting here, laughing maniacally while blasting some seriously bouncin' tunes from a few years ago. Yeah!
Sometimes I revel in it. Just thought I'd share.

Til next squeak,

Voting Shmoting

Well, no friggin' surprise here at all to those who know me.

Should You Vote for Obama or McCain?


Your Issue Profile: 56% Obama, 44% McCain
Truth be told, you're not really satisfied with either of the candidates.You could vote for either of them. You are the typical coveted swing voter.
You may want to narrow yourself down to a particular set of issues in order to pick your president.Or start looking at third party candidates. One of them might suit you better.

Til next squeak,

More than it seems

It's not often I blog about any subject that can remain entirely serious, but today I feel something comin' on. Perhaps I should go check my temperature?

---

In the course of the last 2 years, I've read many articles on the subject of hospitality. Quite a few of them found at LAF. (see sidebar link) While interesting and yes, at times inspiring, these calls to Christian feminine hospitality left a bad taste in my mouth. The feeling that hospitality must be practiced as an "all or nothing" proposition is one that comes up frequently if you look around enough, especially on women's message boards.
When I hear "hospitality" all I can think of is a group of ladies wearing itchy lace dresses, crowded into a stuffy old parlor room, and sipping hot tea when it's around 85 degrees out. Mmmm southern hospitality. What occurred to me yesterday is that hospitality (and I'm thinking it's time to go Google a darn thesaurus) can be very different from that image.
Some of you know that I live in the ghetto. Say it with me now. Ghet-to. Very good. Now if you've never experienced the ghetto, I recommend a trip to your local housing authority. They can direct you to your nearest ghetto and perhaps give you a quick tour. When you live in a ghetto like I do, you're probably not inclined to entertaining, like I'm not. But here's the thing. God often blesses us when we take the time to step out of our comfy little niches and do something to bless others. Not saying it's easy! But it can be well worth it.
Just a few weeks ago, Mr. P. and I had a few friends over for dinner. Most couples our age probably do this often, but we do this...ah...never. The great thing about that night is that all of us were pretty ghetto, but like I always tell my kids, we may not have a lot, but what we do have we can share. Certainly, we were blessed that night with companionship beyond measure.
Earlier this week, my aunt stopped by for a spell after her doctor's appointment but before she went home. Aunt D was quite sick with allergy-related bronchitis, and although she's typically the type to motor through everything, we tricked her into relaxing a bit. Coffee, kids and a gift of handmade soaps (no I didn't make 'em) worked like a charm. I didn't realize how much opening our home meant until she called a few days later let me know she appreciated having a place to recoup her energy before heading home.
And then yesterday, I gave a neighbor a cup of creamer for her coffee and some cookies for her son. It was our kids' first day of school and us mamas need that morning cuppa!
It's funny to me how each of these moments, small and large, blessed my heart while blessing someone else. And isn't that the point of being "hospitable"? Even in the ghetto, you can open your home and your life to friends, family and even those you hardly know. I've read that when it comes to Christian hospitality, the idea is sharing Christ's love along with your home and your time. So even if it's as humble as a plastic tumbler of half and half, it's more than it seems.

Til next squeak,

Just another day in the life...

Most mornings, I try to start out with a cuppa, and hit the computer while the kids are doing whatever it is that they do. Usually, that involves destruction, random acts of violence, and of course, the cartoons that encourage it all.
Today, while my coffee was brewing, I heard this coming from the living room:



Did you catch the line?
"He's got a super talking dog he takes every place who likes a cuppa joe and has a monkey face."
Yeah. All the while I'm hearing this, I've been head-banging in my kitchen. Until I got to that part.
"Hmmmm, do I have a monkeyface?", I thought. Because with my kids, inevitably, one of them will eventually make the connection between Dukey, constant cups of coffee , and me. Oh, let the parade of kid-comments begin!

Til next squeak,

That ol' memory lane

Recently, I was blessed to be able to visit a dear friend and her new daughter. Now, granted, as a mom of boys, I know next to nothing about raising a small thing covered in pink, but I'm betting the logistics are the same in those early days.
What a blessing that visit was! Between Tank recently turning 5 (and how did that happen without my permission?!?!) and my bouts of baby fever, it was alternately strange and sweet to hold her little one. Mr. P. came with me so that we could give her a hand in whatever she may have needed around the house, including a healthy dose of adult conversation. Seeing him cuddling with the baby started my heart down that famed road of remembrance I've heard so much about.
Nostalgia has never been my strong suit. There's been far too much in my life I've cared to forget, and not much I've wanted to preserve in my heart of hearts. The rare moment when I find myself swept away by a sweet memory, well, let's say that I find myself in one of 2 states. That would be either unable to cope or simply thanking God for giving me that moment, both past and present. (I say unable to cope because, alas, I am unequipped to handle the good things in life it often seems. A flashback of childhood abuse? Yeah I can cope effectively with that. A memory of holding my own children when they were smaller? Good Lord in Heaven above help me.)
It turned out that the Lord decided to save the strangest of personal revelations for last that day. In talking with my friend, answering questions about what was normal for babies at that stage, and giving her encouragement that the exhaustion and helpless feelings don't last forever (her baby is going through colic and that can be a very challenging thing, as many of us with older children know), a funny thing occurred to me. For the first time in my life, I felt like an adult. That may sound quite odd, but bear with me. For as long as I can remember, my parents drilled into my head that I would never "grow up". I would forever be immature, and a brat. Ok so they did not put it so nicely, but you see where this is going? I know that's why I look forward to my 30th birthday with such glee. Perhaps then, I'll finally have arrived to adulthood.
How weird and wonderful, that gift from both God and my friend, to feel "adult" and experienced but in a wholesome way in that moment. A taste of normalcy I rarely experience. And it just goes to show another of His blessings in the gift of children. Much healing has taken place in my life since I've become a mother. Being able to give my children a home that's pure of heart is maybe the greatest gift that those little boys have given me.
This little trip down memory lane has allowed me glimpse of the girl I once was. Broken, battered in spirit, and full of rage at the world. I've come a long way, only by the grace of God. The scars upon me are still quite red and vivid, but so much of that brokenness has been repaired by the simple gifts of this family of mine. I'm definitely a different woman than I was just a few months ago. I look forward to the woman God is molding me to be in coming years. I wonder just what I'll think of myself when I look back down that ol' memory lane a few years from now. Let's hope it's something good.

Til next squeak,

When it stops being play time

I'm sitting here with my morning cup of java, and I'm going to share something with you that I am not proud of. It's something I realized a few days ago, and am now determined to live out.
First, I'll begin with a confession. I'm probably the world's worst homemaker. Particularly for one who claims to want nothing more than to just be at home with her family. It's pretty bad. Certainly not what one could even call decent. I can pull it together for a few days at a time, and usually for an inspection. But for a complete lifestyle change? Well, it hasn't happened yet. Truth be told, I haven't really put in the effort yet. I'm also the reigning champion at making excuses for myself, and to myself. Telling myself the housework didn't get done because my body hurt too much, the kids were too wild, my mental health was too fragile, I was too tired, or Mr. P. was unwilling to help, well, that's all just excuses. And oftentimes, blown way out of proportion. Yeah, the kids *can* be pretty wild, but lately they've been getting better. Yeah, I *do* struggle with chronic pain, but I'm learning more how to handle it. And quite frankly Mr. P. works way too many hours for me to be expecting him to take on more duties at home.
So, while I was brewing my cuppa, looking at the sink (and counter) full of dishes, I knew today was the day. You see, last week, the kiddos and I watched a preview of Planet Green's Wasted, on our fancy schmancy On Demand. And lo, I was convicted. Shocking to me, really. I've always said I'm not the one to ever feel "convicted" over anything. What's that phrase? Never say never, right? Anywho, on the show, this one family was very similar to mine own. I had taken to using paper and Styrofoam products in the kitchen for the last year, simply so I would not have any dishes to wash. At the time, it seemed a simple solution to my laziness. Now, I can see it for what it is. Completely wasteful, in more ways than just environmental. They showed what happens to my Styrofoam coffee cups when they come into contact with various chemicals, such as would happen in a landfill. Bleah. Ever seen that slime stuff that comes out of gumball machines in those little eggs that little boys like mine love to play with? Yeah. Just in white. And then there's the sheer amount of trash that is produced when an average family of 4 lives like that. Mind boggling. Oh but wait! Don't forget to factor in the cost of purchasing these products every few days. They quoted around $430 a year. Mmmmk, I don't have that kinda money to just toss around.
The next day was shopping-at-Walmart day. You know, where we as a family wander the aisles for about an hour or so, only to buy the exact same things I buy each and every week, forever and ever, amen. Ah, not this week. Instead of my usual round of disposables, we picked up some of the summer line of plastic bowls, plates, yada yada. I chose these because not only are they cheap, but with the way my hands claw up these days, if I happen to drop a few while washing them, no biggie. I vowed to myself that we would use up the last of our "sposies" and then I would get it together as a wife and mother should.
So here I am. Today is the day. It stops being play time. I think a big part of me always felt that I was "playing house". I know that until just about a month ago, I never felt like an adult. Maybe part of that is having grown up with parents who drilled it into me that I would never be an adult til I was at least 30. Maybe it's because I had to mature so fast in many ways as a kid that I now cling to some childish ways. Who knows? All I know is that it's to step up, for me, for my kids and husband, and for our planet. I need to put in an effort in order to become the kind of woman God has called me to be. Now I just need to figure out a way to stay accountable.

Til next squeak,