The Nursery Song

I never imagined having a decorated nursery.  Since babies aren't known for being art critics and toddlers don't seem to care what color a wall is as they are drawing on it with a crayon, I never saw a need.  As long as I had a room that was comfortable and had all the things babies needed, it didn't have to match or look "cute".
During our first conversation with S, she asked about a nursery.  Knowing it was important to her to see that we had a place set up and ready for baby, we set off right away to create a space that we would love and that would make her more comfortable.  Sticking with gender neutral colors and items that can be used all over the house if they survive the first few years in babies room, we have almost completed our nursery.
Only two items remain.  Our dear friend, Rosie, is writing his name in calligraphy to hang above his crib, which we won't put up until he is home as a sign of respect to the fact that we have no claim on him yet and to protect our hearts from having to take that name down if something is to change. 
And, of course, our little boy.

 

I don't know if our son will be the slightest bit interested in music, but I didn't think he would mind for the first few years of his life that I hang a special piece of sheet music on his wall.  Who knows, maybe he will learn to play this song someday, or maybe I'll hang it downstairs somewhere when we replace this sheet music with a basketball hoop or Nebraska Cornhusker fan stuff.  One of the things I look forward to most in parenting is discovering what my son enjoys and then learning all about it if it is something I've yet to have an interest in.  Unless it's bugs or snakes.  Then I will gladly support him from a safe distance.

The song, A Thousand Years by Christina Perri.  Originally on the soundtrack of a movie about a vampire love story,  this song is probably one of the first where the lyrics are equally as moving to me as the music accompanying it.

Putting aside that the song is actually very well written, the instrument choice is spot on and it is beautifully executed, the lyrics are what bring me to tears every time I hear this song.  I might be a music nerd, but I am rarely bought to tears by modern music.

The words describe how I have felt throughout the past few years as we have prayed for a child.  Every month that went by, all of the times I prayed for my baby to grow up to be a good, Godly person even when it didn't seem like we would ever have one.  When we gave all of the intimate details of our life to a stranger to prove we could be potential parents.   Every baby announcement, every time I missed a baby shower or avoided a pregnant woman.  When S chose us, when we met her in person and felt a love and respect for her and a gratitude I can't even express.  Even now, in the uncertain hope we have for less than 8 weeks from now, knowing she is committed in her decision but knowing how hard it will be for her.  Knowing how much we've wanted this, how hard it has been, and knowing the end result is the most important responsibility and greatest joy Jim and I will ever experience.


A Thousand Years, Christina Perri

Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave?
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?
But watching you stand alone,
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow.
One step closer
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Every breath
Every hour has come to this
One step closer
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
One step closer
One step closer
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

The Whirlwind-iest Trip I've Ever Had

We left here Friday morning at 8 and were home by Sunday at around noon.

Between those times, we did a lot of traveling, some eating, a lot of learning, some crying (okay, so that was only me), some nervous pacing and a lot of trying to put details to memory. It took a while to process it all.  It was a surreal, great experience that might mean so much to our future son.

We met our attorney first, it was nice to meet her in person and know where we'll be signing paperwork after baby is born.  She had some frightening potential news to share with us as we were walking out the door, but otherwise it was a good visit.

We then went to an awesome Lebanese restaurant and met our hostess for February.  The woman who is going to let us take over her guest bedroom for our first couple of weeks of parenthood.  She is even more awesome in person and I don't think she realizes how much of a gift she is giving us by letting us use her home while we figure out a baby.  And she has great taste in food.

The next day was devoted to meeting S.  A tour of the hospital was scheduled, as well as lunch at a place of her choosing.  We also had ample time for conversation afterwards as well.  The hospital seemed a little less adoption friendly than we had hoped, but they were friendly enough to us and gave S a lot of attention, which is what you want from a hospital.

I did my best to commit everything I could to memory and spent the entire flight home (almost three hours) writing everything down in my "Dear (Insert name of son)" notebook.  It's important to me that if my son ever has questions that I can answer as many as possible, and I want him to know where he was born, who was born of and what he has in common with his past.

So I told him how she held herself while she was listening during the tour of the hospital, how she wore her makeup, how she dressed.  I described the hospital he'll be born in.  I described the town his mother lives in and the people in her life.

I told him the feelings I had during our visit.  How nervous I was (and how we arrived at the hospital an hour early), how I paced back and forth while we waited.  How Jim had to grab my arm to slow me down when we went to meet her at the front door.  I told him the things that were exciting, the things that scared me, and of course, how I can't wait to come back and see these people and places again, because that means he is on his way!

The highlights of the trip were--

1. Meeting S.  Seeing her in person, looking her in the eyes (and she has beautiful eyes), having open and honest conversations together.  Having Jim open the door for her.
2. Meeting some of S's family.  Shaking hands with some of the biological family of our potential son.
3. S giving us ultrasound pictures.  This is where the crying came in.
4. Hugging S before we left and hearing her confidence in her decision. 
5. Feeling confident ourselves that this is a good situation-- that we have a good connection with her, that adoption is a good decision and that with all of us in that boys corner, he's the luckiest baby being born in February.

We know that our trip was covered in prayer and positive thoughts from our friends and family.  We had no travel problems at all and overall, except thinking we lost the rental car once.  The trip was a success, and though there were some scary things to process, we are so glad we went.

Anticipation

In just a few short days Jim and I will be on a plane to Detroit, Michigan.  And a day and a half later, we will be on the return flight home.
It will be a whirlwind trip where we will not only meet S (the main reason for the visit), some of her family, our hostess for our visit in February and our attorney as well as touring the maternity ward of the hospital where S will give birth.

The word to best describe how we feel and how we have prepared for our visit is anticipation. 

While I feel what you might expect of someone in our circumstance-- nervous to meet someone new, worried she will not like us after she meets us in person, concerned her family won't like us and change their mind-- I am also just anxious and excited to meet her. 

She is giving us hope.  She has made a decision that would give us the opportunity to become parents and give us the greatest gift we have received.  She has made this decision knowing that it will cause her a great deal of pain.

We have been talking via text and some phone calls about every other day since our initial phone conversation.  We have shared pictures of the nursery as we have been preparing it and she has been so excited to see our progress.  When we named our son together I think we were both crying with how perfect the name turned out and how we all three loved it.  When we talk about our future we always seem to be on the same page.  I look at the picture of her baby bump a few times a day and am so grateful she shared it.

Someday, if all goes well, she will be family of sorts.  So while it's a little scary to meet her and be under the scrutiny of her support system, it will also be like meeting a long lost relative that you plan on keeping in our life from now on. 

We are also excited to meet the wonderful lady who we met through an organization I'm in.  After a phone conversation, she offered to let Jim and I stay in her home after the baby is born in February so we don't have to live for two weeks in a hotel room.  It's amazing and we're excited to meet her so we aren't strangers when we show up on her doorstep with a little bundle.

And meeting our attorney will be nice, as we are very grateful that we've been placed in capable hands who will handle the documents and everything legal that we need to do during a very awkward and confusing time where we would rather be focusing on our little man.

So if you are the praying type, we would appreciate you lifting us all up this weekend.  It may or may not be awkward, but this is just another thing we want to do for S and most importantly, for our future son. 

I Was The Only One

I have two older half siblings that were out of the house before I was born.  This means that I was raised as an only child, basically.  I also grew up with older parents on a llama farm outside of town, which further removed me from society... society my age, at least.

Being an only child, like any upbringing, had it's advantages and disadvantages.  I can say that having to entertain myself a majority of the time meant I practiced my instruments more and used my imagination almost constantly.  I acted more like an adult from a young age because it was all I knew-- from the first painfully awkward handshake and "howdy" I gave fellow students in preschool to discussing our financial future with my boyfriend-now-husband.  I also can now comfortably sit at home alone in silence without feeling lonely or uncomfortable.  And, being the only child meant I had my parents full and undivided attention in every way-- they attended every concert, drove me to every event, bought me everything I could need and most of the things I ever wanted.  In a word, I was spoiled.

The disadvantages change with time.  I longed for a little sister as I grew up.  Someone to love, some to protect, someone to play with on the days I didn't feel like making up another story.  And while my mom and I always got along, I think I used picking fights with her to fill the void of sibling rivalry.  It was sometimes lonely to be the only one to play with.  And not knowing how to act around other kids only created more of a gap between me and my peers.  While I grew up with friends, I longed for that best friend that loved me as much as I loved them, but never quite reached it. 

I grew out of longing for a sister early enough.  My parents were older when they had me, so the realist in me knew there was no possibility of a sibling.  So as I got older, the disadvantages to only childhood changed.  As my sisters-in-law got married, each with their sisters at their side, I was hit with a feeling of being an outsider... not a member of the sisters club.  Sometimes, when friends fade away or move on, I wish I had that sibling connection of someone who grew up with me to lean on. 

Again, I was a spoiled girl with a great relationship with my parents and a fantastic life.  So I contemplate these things for a very different reason.

If this adoption is completed come February and we bring home a son, there is a very good chance he will grow up an only child.  It wasn't something I had really considered much in my naivety, when I planned for 2 or 3 children and had them spaced the way I'd like and had the genders that I'd like in the right order.  The luxury of our daydreaming never considered the expense of our first (and potentially only) adoption putting the possibility of more children at risk.

But the reality is we can't do this again for a very long time, and when we have a son in our home I'm not sure I would want to put all of our resources towards this goal again when we would like to have some set aside for him and his future goals.  It's a sad reality that Jim and I have both had to face.  Jim has never questioned having multiple children in our home, that has always been his plan. 

I wonder if my child will appreciate being the one and only.  I wonder if he will be shy and awkward like I have been or if we will manage to socialize him enough.  I wonder if he will long for a little brother or sister to play with, or if he will feel lonely.  I wonder if feeling lonely will accentuate to him that he was adopted and further upset him.

Of course, this is coming from a woman who isn't even a mom yet.  I have no idea who my son will be and I don't want to project my feelings onto him.  But I wonder, and maybe do a bit of worrying.  I would hate if the fact that we can't have a baby and can't afford a second one was a point of pain in his life.

"My Kids"

Yesterday was National Adoption Day.  And while that topic is obviously frequently on my mind-- or more accurately, always on my mind-- something else happened yesterday that I wanted to share.

Last night, the best high school musicians from Nebraska gathered together on one stage to sing or play in the jazz band, concert band or orchestra.  Among the less than 40 clarinets on stage for the concert band, in her black and orange uniform, was Raelyn.

Raelyn has taken lessons from me for years.  So many years in fact that in my too-tired-to-think-after-a-long-drive mind I can't remember how many.  She has always been a dedicated student with a natural talent and a desire to do well. She was my first student to have made it into all state band while taking lessons.  Her parents bought me a ticket, which was amazing, and then I drove across the state with a part of her family so I could be a part of her first all state concert. 

I have had a few students make it into the state level honor bands before, but after they had moved on to other instructors or they did it completely on their own.  Genevieve and Micah were both great students that I appreciate being able to say I was a part of their musical journey, even if it was just a small one.

I have had a lot of students be very close to making it or who sport similar high honors in music.  Some of my students who didn't make it into the band made it into choir.  All have attended honor bands and all have done a fantastic job on their instruments.

I'm fortunate because my job allows me to work with hard working, talented and generally awesome kids.  I'm fortunate that I get to show kids what I love to do. 

I have the privelage of being in their lives and the responsibility that entails.  I'm sure it resonates with a lot of educators when I say that I'm exceedingly proud of "my kids".  When "my kids" have a recital, everyone knows I'm not talking about my own children putting on a show, but the kids I instruct privately, who have all taken a piece of my heart.  When I show up at music booster meetings I don't think a lot of people question my intent-- because I have a few of "my kids" in these groups. 

I have no claim to them, I can't take a lot of credit for their talent and dedication. 

I can say that during the years of desiring to have children in my home, "my kids" were a highlight to my day.  "My kids" were part of the reason I wanted to become a parent in the first place. 

I am extremely grateful for all of "my kids" and I'm so proud of all of them. 

Courtney who has a natural talent and desire to do well who rocked her first recital last year after only a few lessons.
Sammi who just made 8th grade all state band and left the audience of our last recital breathless after her piano solo.
Abigail who was the most prepared student I had for all state auditions this year and who rocked it as a high soprano in the choir.
Ashley who has learned a few pieces far too advanced for her level, simply because she wanted to.
Hayden, who bravely did her first piano recital at 5 years old.
Brenna, who went to Europe this summer and has made it her personal goal to audition for every honor band ever, it seems. 
Michael, who is the first kid I know to start school band on a second instrument and that instrument was oboe.
Ryanna, who is an alternate for the 8th grade all state band this year and who can play her chromatic scale like mad.
Chase, who has the best vibrato from a high school oboe player I've ever heard and a beautiful singing voice.
Abby, who takes lessons here and there, who sang in the choir this weekend and is going into music education.
Raelyn, who went to Europe this year, made all state and is generally kicking butt and taking names with that clarinet of hers.

You all are one of the best parts of my week.  

Communication

For the past couple of weeks I have been in the longest running text message conversation of my life and it has been with a person I have never met before.  S, as she will be called on the blog (has nothing to do with her name), the mother of my potential son, and I have been getting to know each other through a series of text messages and short phone calls.



At first, the thought of open adoption was scary because each situation is as unique as the people involved and it leaves a lot unknown until it happens.  It's scary because I am tying myself to a person I have no knowledge of for the rest of my life.  It's scary because my child will grow up not only knowing I'm not his only mother, but actually knowing the other woman to some degree.  It's scary because, even if it's minimally, she can see how I am parenting our child.  It's scary because it is something I've never done before.


It was scary but we decided to move forward right away because the experts tell us, and we could see their reasoning, that open adoption helps your child.  Open communication gets you answers, gets you medical information, potentially gets you closure.  Open communication could mean less feelings of abandonment, could mean less questioning about identity, less pain in the healing.  We know that even in a perfect situation, our child won't be guaranteed a perfect little life where being adopted doesn't bother him ever.  But, like all parents, we want our child to have as little pain as possible and to grow up healthy, reasonably happy and good people.  And even if it's awkward, even if it's scary, even if it's really hard sometimes, we're willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.  If that means sharing the title of "mother" with someone my child knows by name, I'm willing to do that for him.  Because, I think by definition, the title "mother" means that this decision should be all about him.




We didn't know what our open adoption situation would look like and honestly, we still don't.  As of right now, it is going quite well.  S and I have discussed the schooling of our son, some of her hobbies and interests, some of mine and planned a trip to visit her before the birth over a weekend in December.  The best short conversation we had was naming our son together-- she loved our first name and we asked her to pick out the middle name (which we also loved). 
When we meet in December, more pieces will be put in place. I will finally see the face that I will someday recognize pieces of when I look at my son.  I will see her pregnant belly, see the area she lives, see her mannerisms.




It might seem strange to those outside of the adoption realm that I am having regular conversations with S.  It might seem like it would be awkward or scary or strange.  It really hasn't been thus far. 


You see, S is a person.  Just like me.  She deals with dramas that perhaps I don't have to and she has made choices that perhaps I wouldn't have made.  She has made a decision I couldn't make, but she has made it for very good reasons.  But I am a sinner, and she is a sinner.  She has good qualities, and I have good qualities.  Our relationship, just like every other relationship on the planet, will ebb and flow as time goes on.  As we build trust and interest in each other it will grow and it may fade with time.  Unlike other relationships, we have one huge connection that is both the greatest joy and the greatest tragedy-- the joy of a son and the tragedy of his departure from her life.  She may need to step away for a time to heal from this.  She may need to be in more contact to see her decision was right.  Her life may go exceedingly well (as we would wish and pray for her), or she may have struggles.  We may disagree on something in the future that causes conflict.




But here we are and I am committed to doing, at a minimum, what we have agreed in pictures, emails and contact.  I would love to get to know S very well, and that she would be open to a relationship with the son we will be connected by.  I pray that I will be able to be wise in my communication with her, as sometimes it can be a bit of a gray area as to what I should and should not say.   There are certain areas of her life that we've been advised not to discuss that I would love to know more about.  There are certain things I would love for her to ask us about but don't want to put pressure on her if she doesn't want to know the answers.  I pray that I will have enough confidence in my "mommyness" that I won't become frightened by her presence.  I pray that this will be a positive part of our son's life.
And I pray every day for S, for her safety, her health and her peace, no matter her decision.  But most importantly, I pray multiple times a day for that little boy, that he will grow up to be a good and Godly man, no matter who raises him.

Half Life

November 10 is our dating anniversary. Maybe it's silly to celebrate a dating anniversary when you have a marriage anniversary, but it's something you celebrate when you are high school sweethearts and I didn't see any reason to take away a celebration just because we were adding one.

On November 10, 2001, Jim and I went on our first date.  Taco John's and a hike.  Jim's taco had a bug in it.  It was beautiful fall colors but we walked in awkward first date silence.

Before then, however, I liked him as the "boy from church" and he eventually started liking me back.  The time frame on crushes is pretty blurry, however, and does not have an official date.  If it did, you could be guaranteed I would be celebrating that, also.

I have been exclusively Jim's "girl" for half of my life.  After November 10 I will have been with Jim longer than I have been without him.

Jim and Gail when we were in high school.

I was 14 on that first date, 14 years ago.  Think about that.  Our relationship is as old as a freshman in high school.  Somewhere out there, there is a teenager who grew from a baby to a toddler to the moody person they are today while Jim and I have been learning to become one.  

Busting a move in the hallway before prom.

A youth retreat while we were dating.

Our wedding day, if you didn't guess.

Jim and I soon after our marriage.

I grew up dating Jim, so I learned how to be his wife right along with algebra and history classes.  Not to say I didn't learn plenty more after we were married or as we have changed through the years.  If you would have told me that my graphing calculator toting boyfriend of high school would be known for his long distance cycling in our late 20's I wouldn't have believed it.  I would have been in even more disbelief if you had told me I would be running 6 days a week and all about fitness.

On a date.

When Jim took me on my dream vacation!

Top of Harney Peak.

At the Salt Lake City Zoo.

In any case, half of my life has been devoted to that blue-eyed fella' who still makes me smile when he walks in a room.  He's been my best friend and confidant since my freshman year of high school.  These past couple of years have been hard with infertility stuff and adoption process stress, but our relationship has never been in question.  We're in it for the long hall and we're pretty excited to see what the next 14, 24, 34, maybe even 50 years have in store (hoping we live that long!).

At Gail's wedding-- the bride actually took this picture.

 

You Might Want To Read This...

Jim and I are pleased to share with our dear friends and family that at this time we have been chosen to be the parent of a little boy.  Little Man is set to make his debut in February.  We are very excited to share this news with you and want to say thank you for all of the prayers, donations and kindness we've received.  There are also some things you might want to know.

What Happened
On Friday, as we were leaving town to go to Denver so I could run a 10K race on Saturday morning (2nd overall female, by the way... I'm totally not sorry for bragging about that!), we received a call from an unknown number with our adoption agency area code.  I made Jim pull over, a whole few houses away from our own, and wrote all the information I could on an oil change receipt as the case worker shared that we were someone's top pick!
Through a series of calls and emails over the weekend we ended up speaking with her Monday afternoon.  We had a great chat, a lot less awkward than we were expecting, and after we hung up it was minutes later we heard back-- she had officially chosen us as the parents to her son. 
So we filled out the paperwork and got the funds on the way to where they belonged and...
went back to work.

What's Next
Being chosen doesn't mean our uncertainty is over.  We will continue to get to know the woman who chose us through calls and emails and hopefully we will affirm her decision through these calls.  However, her decision is not 100% final.  She has every right to change her mind until a few days after the birth, or until she signs her release forms.  Hearing the experience of giving birth and the glorious moments of holding that baby afterwards, her decision may become a difficult one to follow through on... maybe even impossible. 
After she makes that decision, if she has still chosen us, we have to stay in the state of birth until all of the legal documents are sorted through on the right desk-- which is typically two weeks or so.  So we will be living in a hotel with a newborn!
Even after that, there is a six month period before the adoption becomes finalized.  Very rarely does anything happen after the birth mother signs the forms, but technically the state and home study have to prove that we are fit parents and they determine that in the first six months.

The next step we are unsure of is a potential visit to the area the baby will be born in.  We could then meet the birth mother, visit the hospital, etc., and make the delivery a lot less awkward since it won't be the first time we're meeting.  However, travel is expensive and takes vacation days, things that are a hindrance for us right now.  But we will be hoping to find a way to make that a reality somehow. 

No Details
There are a few things Jim and I will gladly tell you.  We have been chosen (yay!), and Lord willing, a little biracial boy will be born in February and we will be bringing him home a few weeks later.
We will tell you that we respect his mother and we believe that she is making a wise decision in making an adoption plan (not because she chose us and we're happy about that, but because it is truly a good decision for her situation).

We will not be telling you details about her life, out of respect for her and the baby.  We don't want anyone making assumptions about the woman who is giving us the gift of parenthood.  We also want our child's adoption journey to be their story, something they can share instead of hearing it from others. 

So if you ask a question please don't be offended if we don't answer.  We aren't hiding something from you, we are protecting what isn't ours to share.

Help
Because there are a few who always ask (thank you, so much, by the way), we just ask for prayers for the right decisions to be made for that little boy.  For wisdom on our part in how to love the new people in our life-- a whole family, in fact.  For his mother, who is going to have some tough days ahead.  And for our (hopefully) son, that he will be who God wants him to be.

Thank you
Again.  From the bottom of my heart (and Jim's too) for the prayers, the love, the support (financial and otherwise) that you have given us.  Even if this particular situation ends differently than we hope, we are still so grateful to have you all!

Action and Reaction

In the past few weeks, I have had a few people, without any conscious prompting on my part, admit that they weren't really sure what to say to Jim and I as we go through the waiting stage of the adoption process.  I understand, as I have experienced the lack of words myself when witnessing someone else go through something difficult.
Empathy is hard.  Expressing empathy is even harder.  It goes against what we would do naturally.  Empathy is experiencing things vicariously through someone else, usually related to something unpleasant.  Empathy is feeling what a person is feeling.  It's having a pain you don't want that has nothing to do with you.

I don't claim to be an empathy master.  As a matter of fact, I'm pretty awful at it at times.  I am also pretty bad at receiving empathy sometimes, too.  Since the subject has come up within our situation, as well as a few things I've witnessed in others lives recently and in a Bible study message, I thought maybe I would share a bit about maybe how we can express empathy in a way that is respectful and loving.

First, there are some things we probably shouldn't do but tend to be the natural reaction most of us have.  Personally, I tend to want to make someone feel better as quickly as possible, so my natural reaction to someone's troubles is try to tell a joke or lighten the mood.  However, that isn't always what people need, and neither are the following.

1. Don't give advice, provide solutions or try to fix the problem.  Unless you know the person really well and know what they are seeking.  If you have a personal story or advice you think will rock that person's world, think about it and then ask if they are wanting any advice.  Often times, people just want encouragement.

2. Don't use cliches or common sayings.  I don't know how many times I was told if I just stopped trying to have a baby we would get pregnant.  This was not helpful, encouraging, and in the end, wasn't even true.  There are a lot of examples of things we just say automatically that aren't helpful.  Sometimes they might even seem helpful initially, but they are just empty words that make us feel as though we have done our duty in comforting someone without actually getting our hands dirty.

This one is going to make me sound like a terrible Christian...

3. God doesn't have to be mentioned to be present.  As a believer, I know that God is with me, He is hearing me, that He is in control and cares about me.  Hearing it in a chipper voice when my faith is hanging on by a thread, however, isn't always helpful and can come across as fake or pushy.  While I'm not saying you should never mention God while people are struggling, I think sometimes letting your actions speak can build your relationships better and ultimately glorify Him more.
 
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There have been times in the past couple of years when all I needed was someone to empathize with me in very simple ways.  I truly believe that empathy takes a lot of bravery, but doesn't take a lot of work.  I'm sure other people have different needs than me, but these things have been the most encouraging things I have received when I needed someone to care and I have never been yelled at for attempting these when I needed to empathize with someone else.

1. Do initiate.  The worst part about knowing someone is going through something is sometimes that we just don't know what to say, so we don't say it.  But the silence can so easily come across as lack of caring to the other person.  I don't think it's necessary to talk about the situation, whatever it is, all the time.  Just a card, a call, an email, a gesture that lets the person know they are on your mind can do a lot when they are feeling all alone.

2. Do ask questions.  Start with "how are you?" and listen to the answer.  Ask clarifying questions.  Not "have you tried...?", which is more of an offering of advice than seeking information.  Try to understand the situation they are in better.  Having more information may help you feel what they are feeling better and therefore help you know how to proceed or what else to say.  If they aren't willing to share, the worst they can do is not answer and that's okay.  You didn't do anything to offend them by asking.
The sweetest question we had asked was a simple "is there anything concrete I can do to help?".  For our situation, the answer is no, because it is up to a birthmother to decide and ultimately God to arrange a situation that is best for the baby.   It was still a really sweet thing to ask and made us feel as though someone truly cared.

3. Do keep it simple and express your solidarity.  I'm sorry this is happening.  I hurt for you.  I feel for you.  I'm here for you.  These are the comments that never offend anyone and say a lot about you.  To me, it says you are willing to go through this with me, even to a small extent, and that makes me feel like I'm not the only one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Empathy is the action we should take when someone is struggling.  However, as always, there are two sides to every coin.  When we receive empathy, we should know how.  I know that through this situation I have learned that I was lacking in empathy both in giving and receiving and I want to become better at both to be a better representation of what I believe in Christ.

Receiving empathy can be hard because people misunderstand what is happening, have preconceived notions, react in ways that are unintentionally offensive or sometimes it's simply that we don't know how to react to their empathy.

1. Understand the misunderstandings.  Even people who have been through very similar circumstances didn't go through the exact same thing as you.  They won't know your "sore spots".  Sometimes, people speak from a place of ignorance without realizing their words can be damaging.  Not a lot of people know about the adoption process fully, or about depression, or about losing a family member.  I don't see a problem with correcting the misunderstandings.  If the person means well, give them some grace and understanding that they aren't an expert on your situation or your feelings.

2.Speak up.  If someone does say something that is inadvertently hurtful, you can tell them you would prefer not to hear that, or you can defend your position.  If someone asks if they can help and there is way, tell them what it is.  If someone is trying to be there for you and you feel comfortable with them, be as open as is appropriate.

3. Your pain doesn't negate others problems.  Other people still need my empathy every day.  Even on the days when I feel like crawling under a rock, other people still exist.  Circumstances shouldn't dictate your kindness, gentleness, goodness, self-control or love.  The benefits of this are numerous.  First, it is easy when in a struggle to feel as though you don't matter-- nothing makes you see your value more than helping another person.  Second, those people are getting the love they need in their situation.  Third, you strengthen these traits when you practice them while it's hard to.


I'm going to continue to work on empathy in my own life in both giving and receiving.  I hope someday we will be able to teach it to a kid or two, too.  Because I believe empathy is one of the best ways to build strong relationships.  Coming along someone in their time of need is difficult but rewarding for everyone involved. 

The Stockpile

When Jim and I started the adoption process, we did the best we could to return to what I like to call the "college budget".  When we were first married and Jim was a full time student, I worked two part time jobs, sometimes three.  I wasn't making a lot, so we lived with very little income.  We stuck to a strict budget.  We lived mostly off of ramen noodles, mac and cheese and boxed meals, but we lived comfortably in our tiny apartment and didn't complain that we couldn't afford to eat out.
The budget got a little squishier when Jim graduated and we started living on a regular income.  Of course, expenses also increased.  A mortgage that didn't include utilities like our rent payment made living a little more expensive, as did my interest in health and our acquiring three dogs.
However, we have done a lot of cutting since we saw the price tag on adoption.  From renegotiating my cell phone bill, going to a new internet provider, to returning to a more strict grocery and date night budget (though I admit, they are both higher than they used to be! Especially groceries... mac and cheese and ramen noodles are really cheap but not exactly the healthiest option).

One thing that was added to the budget, though, was the stockpile item.

Every month, we buy a baby item.

After scouring the internet and reading plenty of "what you need for baby" lists, I made a list of my own.  I know that once there are children in our home I will realize my list was off in one way or another, but I think I have the basics covered. 

I walk through the clearance aisle of Wal*Mart if I'm there, or use a coupon at the local drug store, or buy things when they are on sale, but every month I check something off of the baby stuff list.  Small, essential items like bottles, swaddling blankets, onesies, towels.  Just one or two a month to add to the pile so when we get "the call", we won't have to spend the first 24 hours of having a baby in the baby aisle trying to buy all the stuff we need.

Some sweet people in my life have added some things to our little stockpile.  My best friend sent us gender neutral onesies early on in the process. My mom bought cloth diapers when she saw some on sale.  My sister-in-law dropped off a few items her son is no longer using.

Admittedly, I didn't think we would have the time to collect so many items.  Maybe it's just me, but as a potential adoptive parent couple, I thought Jim and I were going to be picked "quickly".  I mean, our profile represents the best of us-- we are a kind of cute, athletic, musical, smart (well, Jim is smart), animal loving couple in a small, supportive community.  I thought certainly someone would snatch us right up. 

Obviously, the woman who is meant to find us completely adorable hasn't seen our profile yet.  We know that it's all in God's timing so we try to keep looking forward.  I look at this pile with a mix of impatience, hope for the future, sadness for the current circumstances... and a bit of satisfaction in being somewhat prepared (I am a planner, and knowing that I have everything my baby will need the first couple weeks except formula and a car seat has me feeling a little more at ease.  Because, you know, having burp clothes means I will totally know what to do with a newborn, right?).

In any case, our guest bedroom currently looks like that of expectant parents.  A lot of cute little pastel colored things I hope to get to use one day.  A lot of hope.

Give Me A Break, Give Me A Break...

... break me off a piece of that Kit Kat Bar!
Actually, don't.  I don't eat kit kat bars anymore, though they were a favorite of mine growing up. 

That, my friends, is what you'd call a random introduction.

I say my friends because I'm sharing this on my Facebook page, a page designed for friends specifically.  And as awkward as it feels to do this, I'm posting this on my Facebook page to let you know that I won't be visiting my Facebook page as often for a while.

On Sunday night, I deleted Facebook from my phone.  The account is still here, I plan on checking it every now and again, because I'm in charge of a couple of other pages and want to make sure I keep up with those.

Normally a Facebook or social media hiatus doesn't need to be announced, I've been on many since joining bebo years ago (I think that was the name... it was the not-so-cool myspace that no one knew about but me and a few church ladies).  However, I figured people might wonder why I'm not around "liking" things anymore and didn't want them to take offense.

I am taking a break for a few reasons.  First, it was becoming somewhat of an addiction in my life.  I could get to the app on my phone with eyes closed and I would check it multiple times a day-- sometimes out of curiosity but sometimes out of habit.  I don't like having something become second nature without taking some time to decide if it's really worth it in my daily routine.  I want to make sure it doesn't become something I just "need".

Second, I am being a terrible Facebook page manager for our church and the arts council and if I don't just go on Facebook every day it will be more intentional, which I'm hoping will spur me on to being a better steward of the pages that have been assigned to me.

Third, and this one is tricky to talk about and a little touchy feely, is sometimes there is too much happy on Facebook for me to handle.
See, I have a finely tuned news feed.  I have an exceptional group of people in my friends list and I have done some tweaking so that memes are at a minimum and my feed is simply a pleasant online experience.  My friends are witty, intelligent, positive, kind.  I like "surrounding" myself with them while online.  You all are like a warm blanket.
I love my friends.  I love their kids.  I love reading pregnancy announcements, birth announcements, good news, cute quotes from kids and anything that moves peoples lives forward.  I am filled with joy for the good stories I get to see in lives I wouldn't normally get a chance to be a part of (take my cousin in Australia, for example.  I can't exactly just walk down the street and say hi, but I can congratulate her on her recent victories as a body builder).
But these sweet things that are shared can, by no fault of my friends, feel like sugar coated daggers.

I will never get to share a pregnancy announcement on Facebook.  How stupid that after accepting that I will never experience a pregnancy, the fact that I don't get to hold a beach ball to my tummy or hold up a preggo can or write a question mark on my belly is what makes me sad.
And while I watch the tummies of my pregnant friends grow on their timelines, I am reminded that my son or daughter and I will never experience that extra nine months of bonding time together.  What this means for my baby and for the woman that gets to do that bonding breaks my heart.

I see peoples lives moving forward as they should-- sharing vacation photos, celebrating birthdays, moving up in their careers.  For the past 10 months my answer to "what's new?" has been "still just waiting". 

Listen.  I am doing my best not to complain.  It sucks to wait.  I was raised as basically an only child and a spoiled one at that.  I'm used to getting my way in a decent time frame.  I get that this process takes time... sometimes a lot of time.  I get that there will be slip ups and decisions made out of my control that will make it seem even longer.  I'm trying to see this as a temporary thing that will eventually lead to the right circumstances for our children.  I can usually conquer this impatience and jealousy for the sake of loving my friends and celebrating in their lives. 

But sometimes 3 pregnancy announcements, a birth and pictures of kids are all I see on my news feed.  And sometimes, it's not a pleasant place for me to be anymore.

So I'm taking a break.  Keep sharing all of your awesome life stuffs, because I totally expect some likes and what not when I post stuff of my kids (I may be the kind of mom who posts finger painting art on her wall, so you may have to stretch the truth a bit). 

For now, know that if I haven't liked something in a while it isn't because I don't like it in real life.  I still think you are awesome.  I'm just working on me being better at handling your awesomeness :). 

Our Adoption Process Q & A

Until someone is directly involved, there is a lot of adoption information that just isn't public knowledge.  Combine that with the fact that every adoption is as unique as the people involved and we have a lot of misinformation, questions and concerns.

As it has been almost a year since we announced to friends and family that we were pursuing an adoption, the initial excitement has worn off and we are currently experiencing a second wind in questioning after a few months of silence.  I just wanted to take this opportunity to answer a few of the "frequently asked questions" regarding our specific situation.

1. Where are you in the process/ any news/ why don't you have a baby yet?

We are waiting for a birth mother or birth family to choose our profile as the best match to raise the child they bring into the world.  It's all up to the birth mother at this point until her parental rights are signed over.  So, our only news is our home study will need to be renewed in a couple of months and we are being shown to an "adequate" number of birth mothers.  We don't have a baby yet because no one has chosen us yet.

2. Why aren't you traveling or visiting family?

Surprisingly, we get comments or questions regarding our travel a lot.
I have two answers.
First, travel is expensive.  We have had some people sacrifice for us for our adoption fund.  To respect their donations and to exercise responsibility, we have cut out frivolous spending and stick to a strict budget.  To add to this point, we are also still below where we need to be to pay for everything adoption related by a few thousand dollars, so we are still in save mode.

Second, we are with a national agency, which means if we are called out of state (most likely) to pick up our baby, we have to wait for the paperwork and red tape to clear before we can go home, which is two weeks or longer.  While I would be on maternity leave, Jim would have to return to work.  He does not want to leave his wife and newborn baby in a hotel room in an unknown town because he doesn't have enough vacation time.

3. Don't you want to try longer for biological children / did you jump in to adoption too quickly?

No.  Maybe it doesn't seem like this, but we are the kind of people who consider all of our options before making a decision, put a lot of thought and prayer into it and when it is made it is final.  If we are ever blessed with more children biologically, we would gladly accept them (yes, even if I get pregnant when we become parents through adoption), because I would rather have multiple kids of a close age than none at all.

4. Isn't it awful that you have to jump through hoops to become an adoptive parent?

No. It wasn't that bad.  It's a lot to get done and other people can just get pregnant without anyone judging their parenting abilities but another family is about to entrust us with a precious human life.  I would want to make sure I was a good person to do that to, too.  The "system" has it's flaws, but adoption isn't an easy thing for anyone involved and I don't mind hoop jumping.  To me, it's like diaper changing and bottle warming-- things I have to do for my baby that might not be "fun", but essential.

5. Have you looked at international adoption / foster adoption / this other agency?

Yes.  See the answer to number 3. A lot of thought went into which type of adoption path we were going to go down.  While an agency assisted infant adoption is one of the more expensive options, it was one we felt comfortable pursuing.  Every path to and through adoption is different and this is the one we are on and we are united in our decision.

6. What people haven't asked.

If you have questions-- please ask.  It shows that you care, which is always important to anyone going through something different or difficult.  So please ask questions, we will always say so if it is too personal.

It's rare that people ask how we are feeling in the adoption process.  Maybe I over share so no one needs  to ask, but here is the answer, in case anyone was wondering.  We're mostly okay.  We have hard days.  I wish I could say that I always have a peace beyond understanding but I don't.  I have days that it hurts or something happens that makes me sad.  

Yes, when baby comes home, I plan on having a "meet and eat", so you will get to meet our precious little one when the time comes.

Yes, I have a dog and house sitter for when we get "the call".

If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to ask! 

Rejection

The great thing about being a potential adoptive family with a national agency is the exposure we are given.  Throughout the US, potential birth mothers can look at the profile of a quiet couple from Western Nebraska, which means that monthly we are being shown to a dozen or more women who have a hard choice to make but who could maybe choose us to be the parents of their unborn child.

The horrible thing about being a potential adoptive family with a national agency is the exposure we are given.  Throughout the US, potential birth mothers can look at our profile, meaning a dozen or more women every month since we became active have chosen someone else.

We knew going in that adoption is tricky and requires patience, and we have prayed multiple times a day that the right situation come into our lives, the situation that will be best for our future son or daughter, even if it means we have to wait forever, even if it means we end up in a situation we weren't expecting.  We knew that women considering adoptions are given a pile of profiles to sift through and there are a lot of factors that go into her decision.

But it doesn't matter how much we knew or how much we continue to learn.  Rejection hurts.

In mid-August a little girl was born somewhere in Nebraska and she went home with another family.  Through a series of events we found out we were one of just a couple of choices her biological mother had narrowed it down to.  She chose them.  She didn't choose us.  That little girl is in a family that will love her dearly, and I hope she grows up to become a lovely woman with a beautiful life.  But on her due date, I realized I could've been her mother that day if things had gone differently.

Rejection comes in all shapes and sizes but it all feels about the same.  I found out recently that I wasn't as important to some people as they were to me and it hurt in the same place.  It felt the same when the publishing companies told me they weren't interested in my music.

We go way back, rejection and I.  It happens when you wear bright red overalls to school because you think they are cool... but they aren't. 

But I don't like to feel like a victim and blame the world when I'm rejected, because I find no one really cares how much you point the finger outward.  Trying to find a place for the blame isn't making the problem itself go away.

Rejection hurts because it hits my pride.  I thought we were a cute, fun loving couple that any woman considering adoption would fall in love with.  I was convinced I was important to someone when I wasn't.  I thought my music was good enough to publish so I sent it in.
But we aren't, I wasn't, it wasn't.  And when one thing feels like it isn't good enough, it spreads like a disease, until suddenly I don't feel good enough.  How easy it is to fall into a self-made pit when you feel less than good enough. 

Fact is, I am not always going to be good enough.  But, I have a deep and unmoving worth.  I am a person whose life has value.  The good Sunday School student answer is that I was created in God's image and therefore have worth.  That I am not good enough but by grace through faith I get to be His anyway.  But it goes beyond that, too.  The rejections I face today aren't my whole story.  Our profile has to be rejected just enough times for the right situation to fall into place.  I have to be rejected by people important to me to notice who doesn't, to remember not to do it to others. 

Rejection hurts but pain almost always goes away with time.

And in the meantime, I have three dogs.  Which is the definition of complete and total acceptance and devotion at all times.  Even as I write this, with all three snoring at my feet. 

The Perfect Day

I grew up in the Black Hills of South Dakota.  I spent much of my childhood outside, exploring the woods beyond my house, hiking Harney Peak with my dad every summer (at least once), "back roading" and hiking Mt Roosevelt with my then-boyfriend-now-husband.  I loved the forest, but didn't realize how much until I became a prairie occupant.
The prairie has it's own beauty-- open spaces, wide rivers, tall grass, meticulously organized fields, the sand in the dirt creating interesting formations in the low rolling hills.
But I'm a woods girl at heart.  I love the clicks and gurgles of the small creeks that run through the nooks and crannies of the hills, the wind whistling through the tree tops, the crunch the needles and cones of the pines made beneath my feet.  The smell of hot sap in the summer and clear, spruce scented winters. I love not knowing what is around the corner until I get there on a small tunneled path surrounded by trees.

Which is why Jim and I promised each other that we would make trips to the forest often, be it the Hills of South Dakota or the mountains of Colorado.  This year, with the exception of my sister-in-laws wedding, I wasn't able to spend any time in the woods.  Jim's vacation days went to cycling adventures so I stayed home.

My husband recognized a problem and sent out to fix it.  He knew that circumstances around our future adoption plans and life in general had me feeling impatient, rejected, lonely and stressed, he did what he knew would heal my heart.  Friday night, as I was falling asleep, we talked about where the nearest forest would be and how we could get there.  Saturday morning, after a 10 mile run for me and Men's Bible Study for him, we were off to Halsey, NE.  Jim took me to the woods!

The minute we pulled in at the recreation area, I rolled down my window and breathed in the smell of home that every forest has (plus smoke from Oregon, which oddly reminded me of home as well, since we experienced a fire in the Hills a few years ago).  We went to Scott Lookout Tower  first, where David was brave enough to climb to the top.  Jim and I took turns climbing the stairs, as the little dogs were too afraid of heights to join us.

We then started down the trail that would lead to the ranger station 3 miles away.  We went a ways down the trail before it became obvious that it had too many sand burs for the dogs to enjoy the trip and we turned around.

We then found a sand and gravel road that veered off into the trees and decided to follow it for a while.  It reminded me of our dating days, always wanting to know what was over the next hill, if there would be a prettier valley or something exciting.

We walked around the picnic area, crossing the river at the entrance of the forest on a beautiful bridge.

After spending a while in the small but beautiful forest, my spirit being slowly restored, we headed towards home.  The road between Stapleton and Thedford is fascinating, as it runs along the old highway, which is now just abandoned and overgrown, areas of it crumbling from lack of care.  It was beautiful and sad.  We pulled over and walked about a two mile stretch of the forgotten road, taking tons of pictures while we were there.

 When we got back to North Platte, we stopped at Cold Stone and Qdoba before coming home to watch a movie.

It wasn't a full vacation and we spent more time driving than we did outside of the car, but it was a wonderful day. 
I remembered how much I love the woods.  I got to do some of my favorite things in exploring new territory, hiking and climbing towers (I don't know why I love climbing up towers, I just do).  
Most importantly, however, I was reminded that neither the woods or the prairie are my home. That God provided a temporary home for me on this earth--Jim is that home.  Until the day He gives us children, Jim is my family.  I was reminded that I was so important to my husband that he would drive 5 hours on a Saturday just so I could spend a little while with some trees.  I was reminded that a simple day with my little family of my guy and three dogs can be the perfect day.  I was reminded again just how fortunate I am to be married to one of the greatest guys in the world. 

Thanks for the great day, sweet heart. 

The Comments Section

I have never found something so consuming, frustrating and tactless as the comments section.  It is my estimation that I spend approximately an hour a week reading the comments section on various things-- from youtube videos to blog posts to Facebook debate pages.  As someone who is resolutely against participating in most forms of debate, I am often surprised by me interest in what others have to say on any given topic.  Yet there I sit, reading, often times getting upset, almost always leaving in a worse mood than I started with.  And today, I got so angry I contributed to the madness in one comment.

The comments section is where grammar, kindness and thought out responses go to die.

It's truly unfortunate that people allow the anonymity of a computer screen bolster their courage to say whatever is on their mind, whether it is worthy of the time it takes to type it or not.  Opinion, it seems, is far more important than knowledge in internet-land.  With the access to millions of opinions, some sounding quite legitimate, it is easy to find someone who agrees with any given idea, fueling this audacity of online commenting

When I discovered the world of online forums, I was excited.  As someone naturally shy and constantly thinking about how my words might come across, I looked forward to a place where I didn't have to respond in the moment.  Where I could carefully formulate my opinion, word it carefully, and post it when I was prepared to share it.   It wasn't long until I left the two forums I had joined because I learned that for some reason, this wasn't a common thought about online conversation.

Most often, it's swiped, incorrect words replacing important ones so what may have been a convincing statement comes across as jibberish (I'm guilty of the swipe faux pas, but I do my best to keep those between my husband and I, so when I accidentally say "ovaries" instead of "oboe reeds", it's something we can giggle about later).  The angrier someone becomes, I have found, the less likely they are to use the word they want, spell things correctly, or avoid unnecessary curse words.  Some responses, to even the most mundane of videos or articles, are illegible by the time they are posted.

When the responses are a bit more thought out and therefore understandable, they are sometimes so filled with hate that they are hard to read. Without the filter of everyday, face to face conversation, people tend to say things that can be really hurtful, whether they are directed at a particular person or not.

The comments section has done a good job of telling me that everything I am is something someone else is adamantly against and they are more than willing to share their disdain online.  Everything from my faith, my pets, my hobbies, my diet, and even our decision to adopt an infant have been topics attacked.  It may not be directed at me personally, but some of these cruel comments hit on something very personal for me or someone close to me. 

Today, I responded to a comment on a debate page.  A woman believed that those adopting an infant "suck" because they are just "waiting around for the perfect baby" instead of adopting from foster care.  It was such an ignorant comment, to assume that anyone who desires a child should just hope right into foster parenting, as if it's the easiest thing in the world.  All of us in the adoption world have very specific reasons for going the route we do, and we have very important reasons for ours, none of which are the "perfect baby", or "one that looks like we do" (another assumption of the poster in question). She said some hurtful things about adoptive parents of infants and it got under my skin too quickly and too deeply.  I won't give it any more attention here, because her thoughts were lacking in information and I think she may have meant well in the end.  But she attacked not only something important to me, but she also attacked some of the best people in my life with her comments and I couldn't stand it.  I broke a Kristin's Cardinal Rule and replied in the heat of the moment-- luckily, I did a few rephrases before posting and I feel I came across clearly and without sounding like a nut case.

You see, as much as I hate generalizations and as much as I want to believe this isn't true, we live in a world where face to face contact is less and less important and freedom of speech now means you are encouraged to be painfully opinionated without any reasoning behind those opinions.  We live in a world where "u r such an iafiot, i can sharz my opinion on dis" is an acceptable rebuttal (actual quote, mind you).  We live in a world where we are supposedly accepting of so many things now but can't hold our tongues on any given topic.

I suppose it's always been this way, people destroying other people with their words.  It was a problem even in Biblical times, though sometimes I feel like verses were written exactly for online conversation.

Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent. Proverbs 17:28

A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back. Proverbs 29:11

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; James 1:19

The wise of heart will receive commandments, but a babbling fool will come to ruin. Proverbs 10:8

Whoever guards his mouth preserves his life; he who opens wide his lips comes to ruin. Proverbs 13:3

Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.
Colossians 4:5-6

and last one of the day


Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. Ephesians 4:29



People can be cruel.  It doesn't mean we have to be, too.  Like the old song goes "Oh, be careful little mouth, what you say". 

The Perks Of Being A Good Girl

Whether or not it was because of my own personal decisions, the fact that I was a social recluse or that my family lived on a 6 acre llama farm 10 miles from town, I was (and am) a good girl.

Sometimes, perhaps, it was fear of punishment.  Often it was respect for authority.  Most often it was because being "good" was simply easier and less stressful than being "bad".

In any case, I rarely got into much trouble.  My worst shenanigan was a "party" my friends had at one grandmother's house when an attempted game of sardines resulted in breaking a bed frame that surprisingly couldn't support the weight of 11 teenagers.  My worst indiscretion was literally 15 minutes long, when I stole kitty collars from K*Mart and broke down in the parking lot, confessing everything to my mother and returning them to the manager, telling him I planned on grounding myself for a week for the theft.

I have been told that my lack of excitement due to my goody-goody-ness is something I will regret one day.  That somehow being a good kid has ruined my chances of having truly "lived"-- that somehow by following the rules I have ruined any chances of having any fun ever.

I'm here to tell you-- that's a big fat lie.  Growing up a good girl definitely had it's perks and I think it's time to celebrate the rule followers and the "innocents".  I'm not going to judge anyone else's experiences thus far in life, but I'd like to share with you some of the things that have come from being a borderline brown noser.

1. Good girls marry good boys.  And good boys make excellent husbands.  Sure, a bad boy with a soft side seems like a good idea, but my nerdy, graphic calculator toting boyfriend of high school not only turned into a loving, caring, awesome husband, but a super smart electrical engineer.  If there is one thing young ladies take from this post it's this-- go for the good guys. 
On the topic of marriage, having married as a virgin to a virgin (part of the good girl thing, I guess) I can tell you how awesome it is to come into marriage with a clean slate and without any guilt.  It might not seem romantic, but let me tell you, I don't for a second regret this and neither does my awesome, good guy husband.

2. Authority likes me.  Parent teacher conferences were always the best.  I got a free cookie and sat around while other adults told my parents what a joy I was to have in class.  Every time I visited a friends house I was treated like the best kid in the world because offering to help with dishes was basically asking for sainthood. 
Authority also trusts me.  So much so that when as drum major I bought a 6 foot sub for the band on homecoming and needed to cut it into smaller pieces, the ladies in the lunch room not only gave me a huge knife, but just let me walk out of the cafeteria with it.  On the short walk from there to the band room I passed the secretary and the DARE police officer and no one even batted an eye at the senior girl walking down the hall with the knife the size of her forearm.

3. People trust me.  Don't worry, that statement wasn't followed by an evil cackle.  People trust me because you can trust trustworthy people and I do my best to be just that.  However, there were times when people told me secrets simply because I was the "quiet, good girl".  One group of high school boys loved to tell me what they were planning to do to another guys locker, or how they were going to prank the girls basketball team, because for some reason, I looked like someone who wouldn't tell. 

4. I remember all of my fun.  I have personally never seen the draw to getting drunk.  I have never understood the excitement of losing control of some of your mental capabilities.  It sounds frightening to me, to be honest.  But I can say that every time I have been at a social gathering and had a good time, I remember every second of it and never once had to puke afterwards (okay, that one time when I ate something bad, but you get the point).  In all of my funny drunk stories, I am most definitely not the star, and I prefer it that way.

5. My parents never had ammunition and we always got along.  Back to authority liking the good girl, by the time I was in high school my parents didn't ask me where I was going or when I would be back, because they knew it was clean fun and I'd be back at a decent hour.  This is partially because they were laid back parents, but it was also because they knew I wouldn't do anything that would make them nervous.  They rarely had something to punish me for and therefore didn't often get a chance to use an indiscretion to tell me I couldn't do or have something.  Looking back, never having a rebellious stage, unless you count getting married at 19 when my parents didn't want me to, it was great being best friends with my mom through those awkward teenage years.

6.  When I cuss, people listen.  I don't believe in using inappropriate language.  I know some people use it more frequently than I do, and that is perfectly fine for them, but I feel if I am representing the God of the universe, my husband, my job, my church, etc., I should always be on my best behavior, and I would rather honey come from my lips than vulgarity.  So I don't cuss, at least very rarely.   But when I do, jaws drop.  Rooms fall silent.  People pay attention.  Things get real when the good girl lets one fly.  There are two perks to this. One, people almost always listen to my side in an argument because if I get heated enough to cuss I must be very serious.  Two, cussing could someday save my life.  I once dropped a knife while doing dishes, cut my hand and uttered a less-than-proper word and Jim was by my side almost instantly, at non-human speed, assuming I was dying if I was saying such a word.

7. People assume I'm smart.  Because teachers loved me, people assumed I was a great student.  Sure, I stayed in the A and B range (except for Algebra 2, stupid math), but other students always thought I knew what I was talking about.  While I am quick to admit my intellectual shortcomings, it is fun to know that by simply being a good girl some people might take what I say as fact, because I just "seem" smart.  

8. The risks I make count.  Sure, maybe I never went to a party that could have been broken up by the police.  Maybe I've never been in a somewhat unsafe situation.  Maybe I'm not the kind of risk taker that has great, funny stories to tell about the time she did something stupid.
But I do have the stories about the risks I've taken.  Marrying young to my high school sweetheart.   Asking directors to have their bands play my pieces.  Befriending people that intimidate me.  Going through the adoption process.  These are risks worth taking.


I was most definitely not a perfect child and had my moments of being a hooligan without a doubt.  I also have many friends who had much more interesting shenanigans than my cat collar story.  This post is in no way meant to offend them or anyone else, so just read it for what it is and maybe laugh if something what funny, okay?