I love this song. It helped me form my philosophy behind being a public school teacher. Which also pushed me along in my journey towards foster parenting.
"Family Portrait" sung by Pink.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
I Hope It's Not True.
A comment was made.
A hand motion displayed,
all very quickly,
and not part of the normal routine.
I hope it's not true.
A record of the incident was made.
An email was sent.
Emergency responders show up.
Nothing is disclosed.
I hope it's not true.
Parents are upset.
Visitation drop-off changed.
Sheriff is present.
I hope it's not true.
We are new to all this.
We are just doing what we are told.
I guess it is pretty much over now.
I hope it's not true.
A hand motion displayed,
all very quickly,
and not part of the normal routine.
I hope it's not true.
A record of the incident was made.
An email was sent.
Emergency responders show up.
Nothing is disclosed.
I hope it's not true.
Parents are upset.
Visitation drop-off changed.
Sheriff is present.
I hope it's not true.
We are new to all this.
We are just doing what we are told.
I guess it is pretty much over now.
I hope it's not true.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Always Pondering - This Time at the Spa
I was treated to a massage and relaxing afternoon lounging at a spa in honor of my mom's birthday.
I have only had a few professional massage experiences in my life-time. Sometimes I dwell on how intimate (not sexual necessarily) it seems. "Hi, stranger, let me lay naked under this sheet while you rub my body." Other times I wonder about my massage therapist and their journey in life that brought them to this job choice. I wonder about what their weirdest massage experiences have been. Is it like a hair salon situation where you can talk to your massage therapist and carry on a conversation or must you remain silent to maintain the calming ambiance. My goal was to try not to be so analytical during the massage and just relax and enjoy.
The plan was to use the half hour before my massage to shave my legs (because even though it's summer I was maintaining my mountain woman status). We arrived later than expected so I did not get to accomplish my goal. When my massage therapist asked if there were any health concerns or anything she should be aware of, I made her aware of my furry legs. I figured instead of me feeling awkward I'd just prepare her in advance. She said it was actually better that I didn't shave because she uses so much lotion and it could irritate freshly shaved skin.
After the massage my mom, sister, and I were discussing our experiences and I happened to mention that I didn't remember my bum getting quite the rub down in the past as it did this time. Apparently my bum was the only one that received such attention. Well, we'll just leave it at that then.
This particular spa is great because in the ladies area you can go in the jacuzzi, steam room, sauna, quiet room, and most everything is provided for you.
When I go, I wear a bathing suit, usually a two-piece. Some ladies walk around naked. I've contemplated doing the naked thing. I think I have issues with the lack of barrier between pubic hair and spa water.
We were all enjoying the calm atmosphere wandering around choosing different places to relax. I think it's fine if a person chooses to be naked at the spa. I just have issues with how to interact. Do I completely ignore the naked people? They are just people, they just happen to have no clothes on. Most of the naked people avoided eye contact or I wondered if they thought my usual friendly smile and nod acknowledgment was awkward because they were naked.
Why does it matter that they were naked? Does it matter? I felt no jealousy. I wasn't critically comparing. I found us quite beautiful in an artistic sense, like the curve of our hips. Our bodies also give clues about our lives and what we value. I found it difficult not to sneak peeks at people. I was curious about tattoos, breast implant scars, different types of bikini waxes, and why each person wanted to escape to the spa.
I ended my spa stay by reading and falling asleep in the quiet room where robes are required.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
I have only had a few professional massage experiences in my life-time. Sometimes I dwell on how intimate (not sexual necessarily) it seems. "Hi, stranger, let me lay naked under this sheet while you rub my body." Other times I wonder about my massage therapist and their journey in life that brought them to this job choice. I wonder about what their weirdest massage experiences have been. Is it like a hair salon situation where you can talk to your massage therapist and carry on a conversation or must you remain silent to maintain the calming ambiance. My goal was to try not to be so analytical during the massage and just relax and enjoy.
The plan was to use the half hour before my massage to shave my legs (because even though it's summer I was maintaining my mountain woman status). We arrived later than expected so I did not get to accomplish my goal. When my massage therapist asked if there were any health concerns or anything she should be aware of, I made her aware of my furry legs. I figured instead of me feeling awkward I'd just prepare her in advance. She said it was actually better that I didn't shave because she uses so much lotion and it could irritate freshly shaved skin.
After the massage my mom, sister, and I were discussing our experiences and I happened to mention that I didn't remember my bum getting quite the rub down in the past as it did this time. Apparently my bum was the only one that received such attention. Well, we'll just leave it at that then.
This particular spa is great because in the ladies area you can go in the jacuzzi, steam room, sauna, quiet room, and most everything is provided for you.
When I go, I wear a bathing suit, usually a two-piece. Some ladies walk around naked. I've contemplated doing the naked thing. I think I have issues with the lack of barrier between pubic hair and spa water.
We were all enjoying the calm atmosphere wandering around choosing different places to relax. I think it's fine if a person chooses to be naked at the spa. I just have issues with how to interact. Do I completely ignore the naked people? They are just people, they just happen to have no clothes on. Most of the naked people avoided eye contact or I wondered if they thought my usual friendly smile and nod acknowledgment was awkward because they were naked.
Why does it matter that they were naked? Does it matter? I felt no jealousy. I wasn't critically comparing. I found us quite beautiful in an artistic sense, like the curve of our hips. Our bodies also give clues about our lives and what we value. I found it difficult not to sneak peeks at people. I was curious about tattoos, breast implant scars, different types of bikini waxes, and why each person wanted to escape to the spa.
I ended my spa stay by reading and falling asleep in the quiet room where robes are required.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
Sunday, August 29, 2010
I Crash Cars
Hello, my name is Lisa and I crash cars.
I haven't always crashed cars.
Before June 9, 2010, I had a perfect driving record (there was that time, when I was pregnant and I rolled my car into our dear friends car while they were sitting in it but there was no damage so I don't count that except enough to mention it because I think it's good to be as honest as possible - I don't think they count it either though).
On June 9th I crashed into my brother's car. I was driving up to my parents' house to pick up the family to drive them to the airport and I had my girls with me. I coasted into their street. I was thinking I would park in the driveway but decided that wouldn't give us much room to load the bags in the car so I redirected my van to park it in front of the driveway behind my brother's car. I was thinking I would just reverse my car a little to straighten it out (because I am an anal retentive parker and I wanted to park parallel to the driveway).
My next thoughts went something like this, "Ah, I'm going forward fast! I hit Steve's car! Holy crap! His car is so bashed in and it's still rolling. Please stop rolling. Do I need to get out and try to stop it?" Thankfully the car stopped rolling. Knowing they had a plane to catch and I just screwed up majorly, I jumped out of the car and ran into the house (yes, I left the girls in the car without saying a word to them because I was a slight basket case).
My brother was in the front room as I entered and declared, "Oh my gosh, Steve, I'm so sorry. I just crashed your car." I was beginning to cry and flap my hands (yeah, I do that when I am both super happy or emotional). He gave me a hug and said it was ok (tender moment). He hadn't seen the car. He asked where the girls were and that's when I remembered them (great mothering moment).
We went out to see the girls and assess the damage. Steve saw his car and asked, "How fast were you going?!" I opened the sliding door of the van and the girls just stared and calmly asked what happened. We got the girls out and we all inspected the scene. JJ kept asking why I did that. "You crashed Steve's car."
We were all fine. Our swagger wagon was barely damaged but my brother's Nissan Sentra looked like crap (it turns out I totaled his car). We figure instead of hitting the brake before switching my car in reverse to park perfectly, I hit the gas and parked horrifically.
My brother mentioned that I'm like one of those elderly people that crashes into open markets and kills people (NOT tender moment). That thought has sort of tormented me ever since (I'm not blaming Steve, I thought the same thing when it was mentioned that I must have hit the gas instead.). I feared hitting people with my car even before all of this but there is just more of a reality that I am humanly capable.
The girls remind me of my driving faux pas often still to this day.
JJ - "Don't crash!" "You crash Steve's car?" "Why you crash Steve's car?"
Sarah - we were buckling her in to her carseat and someone asked, "What happens next?" and she replied, "We crash" (that was not the answer they were expecting). Sarah often makes her toys crash and she will physically reenact the crash.
At least they are coping verbally :~).
Fast forward to late July. It's a Tuesday night, Lisa's night, Jonathan watches the girls so I can spend time with friends or do whatever I want to relax. I was running late to meet a friend (same friend who's car I bumped into when I was pregnant) at a coffee shop. I backed out angled instead of straight, forgetting the carport pole on the passenger side of the Saturn. It rips a chunk of plastic off above the tire exposing the metal frame underneath. Luckily there was barely any damage to the carport pole and it did not collapse (as I feared after I realized what I had just done). That's how the Saturn got the name Scarface.
I've seriously contemplated using public transportation considering my unpredictable driving ability lately. Sadly all we have are buses in our area and they are not cost effective for more than one person that already has a car.
My mom says that this is something that can happen while driving under the influence of small children.
Cars are scary and powerful. I've known that for many years. It's one thing to mentally know you are capable of something and another to have physical (embarrassing) proof of what I am capable of. I've tried to really clear my mind of distractions while driving. God, protect us and those around me.
My wise husband reminded me (as I was joking about my sucky driving ability) that my identity is not based by my past mistakes. I am forgiven. I should live in that freedom. He had me choose a day when I would no longer label myself based on my recent driving record. I should be aware of my weaknesses but not dwell in them.
Hello, my name is Lisa, and I am redeemed.
"ForGod has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7
I haven't always crashed cars.
Before June 9, 2010, I had a perfect driving record (there was that time, when I was pregnant and I rolled my car into our dear friends car while they were sitting in it but there was no damage so I don't count that except enough to mention it because I think it's good to be as honest as possible - I don't think they count it either though).
On June 9th I crashed into my brother's car. I was driving up to my parents' house to pick up the family to drive them to the airport and I had my girls with me. I coasted into their street. I was thinking I would park in the driveway but decided that wouldn't give us much room to load the bags in the car so I redirected my van to park it in front of the driveway behind my brother's car. I was thinking I would just reverse my car a little to straighten it out (because I am an anal retentive parker and I wanted to park parallel to the driveway).
My next thoughts went something like this, "Ah, I'm going forward fast! I hit Steve's car! Holy crap! His car is so bashed in and it's still rolling. Please stop rolling. Do I need to get out and try to stop it?" Thankfully the car stopped rolling. Knowing they had a plane to catch and I just screwed up majorly, I jumped out of the car and ran into the house (yes, I left the girls in the car without saying a word to them because I was a slight basket case).
My brother was in the front room as I entered and declared, "Oh my gosh, Steve, I'm so sorry. I just crashed your car." I was beginning to cry and flap my hands (yeah, I do that when I am both super happy or emotional). He gave me a hug and said it was ok (tender moment). He hadn't seen the car. He asked where the girls were and that's when I remembered them (great mothering moment).
We went out to see the girls and assess the damage. Steve saw his car and asked, "How fast were you going?!" I opened the sliding door of the van and the girls just stared and calmly asked what happened. We got the girls out and we all inspected the scene. JJ kept asking why I did that. "You crashed Steve's car."
We were all fine. Our swagger wagon was barely damaged but my brother's Nissan Sentra looked like crap (it turns out I totaled his car). We figure instead of hitting the brake before switching my car in reverse to park perfectly, I hit the gas and parked horrifically.
My brother mentioned that I'm like one of those elderly people that crashes into open markets and kills people (NOT tender moment). That thought has sort of tormented me ever since (I'm not blaming Steve, I thought the same thing when it was mentioned that I must have hit the gas instead.). I feared hitting people with my car even before all of this but there is just more of a reality that I am humanly capable.
The girls remind me of my driving faux pas often still to this day.
JJ - "Don't crash!" "You crash Steve's car?" "Why you crash Steve's car?"
Sarah - we were buckling her in to her carseat and someone asked, "What happens next?" and she replied, "We crash" (that was not the answer they were expecting). Sarah often makes her toys crash and she will physically reenact the crash.
At least they are coping verbally :~).
Fast forward to late July. It's a Tuesday night, Lisa's night, Jonathan watches the girls so I can spend time with friends or do whatever I want to relax. I was running late to meet a friend (same friend who's car I bumped into when I was pregnant) at a coffee shop. I backed out angled instead of straight, forgetting the carport pole on the passenger side of the Saturn. It rips a chunk of plastic off above the tire exposing the metal frame underneath. Luckily there was barely any damage to the carport pole and it did not collapse (as I feared after I realized what I had just done). That's how the Saturn got the name Scarface.
I've seriously contemplated using public transportation considering my unpredictable driving ability lately. Sadly all we have are buses in our area and they are not cost effective for more than one person that already has a car.
My mom says that this is something that can happen while driving under the influence of small children.
Cars are scary and powerful. I've known that for many years. It's one thing to mentally know you are capable of something and another to have physical (embarrassing) proof of what I am capable of. I've tried to really clear my mind of distractions while driving. God, protect us and those around me.
My wise husband reminded me (as I was joking about my sucky driving ability) that my identity is not based by my past mistakes. I am forgiven. I should live in that freedom. He had me choose a day when I would no longer label myself based on my recent driving record. I should be aware of my weaknesses but not dwell in them.
Hello, my name is Lisa, and I am redeemed.
"For
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
What a Hypocrite I am . . .
Modeling good behavior is one of the best ways to parent. I've realized some of my hypocritical ways during my daily interactions with the girls. Do what I say, not what I do. There is guilt. I'm making efforts to remedy many of these when I realize it.
I eat a chocolate chip FiberOne Bar for breakfast.
I don't always make my bed.
I don't always flush the toilet (you know, when it's just pee, to save water).
I use more than six squares of toilet paper at a time.
I put my feet up on the coffee table.
I don't always say, "Please."
I don't always say, "Thank you."
I scratch my arms (poor Sarah got eczema on her elbow pits like me).
I eat cookies whenever I want. (This is why I try not to have sweets in the house too often.)
I grab things out of the girl's hands without asking if I really don't want them touching it or I don't want to play keep away.
I often throw my clothes on the floor before bed (cuz, ya know, I might wear them again).
What things do you do?
I eat a chocolate chip FiberOne Bar for breakfast.
I don't always make my bed.
I don't always flush the toilet (you know, when it's just pee, to save water).
I use more than six squares of toilet paper at a time.
I put my feet up on the coffee table.
I don't always say, "Please."
I don't always say, "Thank you."
I scratch my arms (poor Sarah got eczema on her elbow pits like me).
I eat cookies whenever I want. (This is why I try not to have sweets in the house too often.)
I grab things out of the girl's hands without asking if I really don't want them touching it or I don't want to play keep away.
I often throw my clothes on the floor before bed (cuz, ya know, I might wear them again).
What things do you do?
Monday, August 23, 2010
My Big Sister!
Sarah got to go to JJ's chapel time during preschool. Sarah was in the front row. JJ was a few rows behind her, and I was a few rows behind JJ. At one point Sarah turned around on her knees, pointed at JJ, and yelled, "That's my big sister!"
I wonder how much of this experience Sarah will remember. There are moments that are beautiful.
I wonder how much of this experience Sarah will remember. There are moments that are beautiful.
Fun Summer!
 |
| We got to go to the zoo. |
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| We got to ride in the caboose of the Disneyland train. (Yes, I had JJ wear Sarah's doggy backpack with a leash. When I tried without, to see if it was necessary, JJ ran. I had to chase.) |
 |
| JJ waiting in line. |
 |
| Sarah waiting in line. |
 |
| Camping |
 |
| They got the giggles. It was so cute. |
 |
| We had a great picture of all three of them laughing. |
 |
| Deer walked through our campground. |
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| Smelling the flowers. There is a smile behind there :~) |
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