Category Archives: Stuff I Actually Think

When hope and love collide

Tara and Dave just adopted Malakai!

I know I have encouraged you to read their story HERE.  Adoption is beautiful and it is costly.  They have sacrificed a lot to bring Kai into their world, to choose him, to give him a home and a family.  But their friends and family have helped, too.  Many people get to share in the delight and joy that this little fella has brought, as we have all learned a lot more about the “spirit of adoption (Romans 8.15).  Family is lovely, big or small.

There is another couple whose journey I am following via their well-read blog, The Lettered Cottage (www.theletteredcottage.net).  I am watching as they take all the steps my kids have just recently, which has culminated in so much joy for us.  I cannot help but want to cheer them on and pray for them as they also take the many sacrificial strides toward opening their hearts and home to a child who needs one.

On that blog, the adoptive daddy-to-be wrote and recorded a song for the child they haven’t yet met.  Can you even imagine what an ongoing remembrance of love that will be?  You can download “Love Collides” for a monetary gift that will go towards their upcoming adoption.

Isn’t that cool?  Get an MP3 and invest in a child’s life.  {CLICK HERE}  I did!  :)   It is such a sweet song with beautiful lyrics.

Baby Kai update: he is 12 days old!

Meanwhile – Kai is getting stronger daily.  He is still in NICU and mommy and daddy are getting more anxious daily to get to take him home.  They are “living at the hospital” until he is released (because it is too far to go back and forth) and Hunter is just rolling with the flow, a few days here, a few days there, adventures with friends and family and waiting for his baby brother.  Pray with us it will be soon, OK?  :)

Kai knows he is loved like crazy

Think {mid-century} pink!

There may not be a greater example of mid-century modern, artistic, mouth-watering, pristine, high-fashion, silly-but-endearing, picturesque, old-fashioned and up-to-date in one fell swoop movie ever…

If there is, it is not coming to mind presently.  Because:

Think Pink?  Oh, yes, please!

Banish the black, burn the blue, and bury the beige

From now on girls

Think Pink!

It is on Netflix right now, “Funny Face” (1957) starring Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire.  Costumes by Edith Head and Audrey’s Paris wardrobe by Givenchy.  The Gershwin Brother’s fab music…It’s o-so-adorable and just plain good-for-the-brain beauty and charm, wit and glamour.  There are singing and dancing, and dresses divine. Cinematography?  Marvelous!  Sets?  Stimluating!  Charm?  Galore!

Suspend disbelief and the fact that Fred is way too old to be with Audrey and all kinds of other weaknesses in plot and script and just enjoy the fantasy and delightful frolics this film entices you to enjoy.  You MUST just grab some chocolate and sit yourself down for a sense-captivating romp through 1957.  This minute!  REALLY!!!

 

my-fictional-self

So, as I have mentioned, I am a little Judge Judy. Ok – maybe a lot Judge Judy.  But of course, she isn’t fictional.  Or perhaps her persona is, but we are not to believe that. 

 

The fictional me:

Naturally, I relate to Lucy of the Peanuts cartoon strip. Do you want to know what YOUR problem is, Charlie Brown?  Well, I will be happy to tell you.  The doctor is in!

 

There is a bit of the nurturing Shirley Partridge to me now.  Plus, I mean, she was groovy in her bell-bottoms and sort of a rock-star-singer.  I love singing!  Does that count?    ;)   AND, she had 5 very talented children, you know.

 

Jan on Lover Come Back, played by Doris Day (and really all her late-50s, early 1960s movies): I love her I’m-tough-but-slightly-ditsy-and-I have-a-strong-sense-of-right-and-wrong, professional marketer with so much “mid-western experience” and Oo, oo, ooooo – anger never looked so good. She is all justice and righteousness with a nice poofy hairdo.  Maybe I just wish this was me. But I love her – and that wardrobe of my dreams!

This Property is Condemned. This movie just impacted me like a Mack truck plowing over a recently planted seedling of a tree. I saw it when I was 11 and I couldn’t quit thinking about it for days. And weeks. I decided I wanted to be a script writer when I grew up because I wanted to re-write that movie and make it have a happy ending. And I thoroughly understood both characters. Alva Starr (the town flirt played by the tragic Natalie Wood) was over-the-top made-up and bejewelled and she was dead-set on getting out of her small-town going-nowhere life. Her little sister, Willie Starr, was the lost sibling, barely noticed, who ended up recounting the story of Alva in the movie. I relate to both, the driven-ness of the one, the memory-keeping of the other.

 

Did I forget to mention Robert Redford in the movie, too?  Alva (Natalie Wood), left; the homely little sister, right.

It might be hard to believe, but I also feel a bit of Pollyanna in my personality. Though I probably hide my inner-Pollyanna often, she is ultimately there, believing everything will work out fine.  Let’s all play the Glad Game now, shall we?

 

Other fictional characters I am drawn to, ones I recognize a little here and there?

Anne of Green Gables, the flying nun (not Gidget at all, though, but yes, the flying nun), Christy Love (of Get Christy Love!), Pippi Longstocking,  & Beezus Quimby, the Beverly Cleery character from the Henry Huggins series (and Ramona’s older sister), but not as she is portrayed in the 2010 movie. 

Who of us hasn’t felt like a red-headed orphan?  Anne talked a lot (I relate) and had quite an imagination (me, too).  Red hair!

 “When lift plus thrust is greater than load plus drag, anything can fly.”  That is how the adorable nun explained her flying ability.   And as long as she could fly, she could be counted upon to solve any problem that happened along.  Sort of a adventitious problem-solver.

Christie Love!  An undercover female police detective born to overthrow the big drug rings and whose wonderful tagline was, “You’re under arrest, sugah.”  Tall, strong and best-dressed with a take-charge attitude.  And some awesome kicks to the bad-guy’s faces!

Pippi was unconventional, assertive and often vexed adults with her less-than-proper manners.  I could never have gotten away with it, but I always wanted her fiery red hair which was in utter disarray along with her crazy mode of dress.  She appeals to a naughtier side of me.

Beezus and Ramona.jpg

Beezus is usually kind, but sometimes an agitator and full of (older) sisterly wisdom (which does aggravate some people).  While most of Beverly’s books were about little sister, Ramona, this one was from Beezus’s 9-year old point of view and my fav (written 1955).

So what conclusion may we come to? 

Hmmm….I may have a dissociative identity disorder.

Who are the fictional characters that are in you???

On raising 3 girls…in a row!

I wrote this in November when we found out you were having another baby girl.  Forgot to publish.  This is for you, Rocky & Jovan!

The odds of having one child of either gender are nearly, but not exactly, 1 in 2. US birth statistics reveal the odds are slightly in favor of a baby’s being male: roughly 105 boys are born for every 100 girls. So the odds a newborn is male are 1 in 1.95 (51%), while the odds a newborn is female are slightly lower, 1 in 2.05. This means that, when it comes to a woman’s first children, streaks of daughters are slightly rarer than those of boys.

The odds a woman’s first 5 children will be female are only slightly lower than the odds a baby will be part of the birth of twins (1 in 31.12). Multiple births, especially those of higher order (triplets and beyond), are much rarer than streaks.   SOURCE

So ~ another baby girl, against all odds!

Dear Jovan and Rocky~

You are having another girl!  Yes, Averi had been planning for “a little Rocky” and it would sure be fun for me to see another “little Rocky” unleashed on the world, but from afar so I could laugh and enjoy his antics more (as opposed to running red-faced after him at 90-miles-per-hour and trying to keep his little highness from escaping safety 268 times a day).  Oh, my Rocky, in retrospect, you were a hilarious handful, but during the days of your short little legs and gigantic mullet, oh my, I was pooped, pretty much all the time. Haha.

But before we got you, my darling boy, in 1984 (we dared not even hope), we were the parents of three, beautiful daughters.  Three girls with 4 dozen dresses apiece.  Three girls with tangles and curls and mountains of stuffed animals and lacy anklets and Barbie dolls and lilting voices and fuzzy slippers and joyous giggles.

And three is the big deal, you know.  I have always told you: three is when you know you’ve got this thing.  Or else you lose total control forever, but one day they all grow up and it is all fine, anyway.  But three kids is the parental “tipping point,” in my humble opinion.

You see, when you have one child, there is balance: both parents are there to share the load and care for the little sweetie-pie.  If one parent is sick, the other kicks in one-on-one.  It is all very nice and manageable.

Then you have a second baby.  Still – balanced.  Because there is one adult per child.  It all works out.

But three.  Three is the one that will upset the proverbial fruit basket.  Because if one parent is changing baby and another parent is cleaning up the child who is potty-training and just fell into the stool ~ who {???} will tend to the child who just ran out the door and down the street in nothing but a toddler-sized pair of cowboy boots and a nerf-gun in his hands?  Who, I ask?  That 1.5 children per parent thing does not work like it seems it should.

{You are SO going to be outnumbered now}

So, that you have had the courage to venture into parenting three puts you among the most courageous parents on the planet.  Both of your mothers did it (yay, for Jo and me!), so you come from a land of “possible.”  :)

I always tell everyone that once you have three children, you can add any amount and it no longer throws you.  Have 3, or have 12*.  It just doesn’t matter anymore.  This is because you either become extraordinarily able to handle absolutely anything and everything child-rearing-and-raising brings with it and can no longer be conquered, nor intimidated by them, no matter the size of their miniature army-ness, or you sort of lose your marbles and are blissfully unaware that you have lost control.  Either way, win-win.  So have 5 or 7* or however many you want after you have crossed the three-line, you can do it!

*I am mostly kidding about having 7…or 12  ;)

But here you are, Rock-star and Jovanie: three babies.  Three baby GIRLS!  Three beautiful little daughters in a row.  Just like your mom did, Jovan.  Just like I did before the Rockster and the Storms came along.

Here is what is going to happen.  With three of the cutest little girls on the planet. Don’t ask me how I know:

They will never all sleep at the same time.  If you nap when the baby naps, be prepared for the ornery things the older 2 will be doing while you blissfully rest [Vick’s Vapo-Rub, baby powder, needles and a water-bed….the memories].  It will take 3.76 hours to clean up.  But the sleep will have made it worth it.

They will stay up too late almost every single night giggling and teasing each other and sharing their hearts and making each other cry and talking about what they will be when they grow up.

They will all want to cuddle with you at once.  Or none of them will.

You will go through 862 bottles of hair detangler before they reach 18.  Let’s not even talk shampoo and conditioner, and other beauty supplies.  And, by the way, your skills at fancy French braiding will become world-renowned.

It is going to take  47 minutes just to get everyone properly strapped into their car seats.  At which time one of them will need to go to the bathroom before you can leave.  Really – total emergency.

You can weave red ribbons into long braids in their hair for Christmas and have them each hold a large mic and sing “Come on Ring those Bells” at church because the whole congregation will find your little girls as wondrous and adorable as you find them.  Absolutely.

While you are nursing the baby, watch out for what those other 2 are up to.  Don’t think they are not going to scheme, for the minute you get situated nursing is a great time to do or touch [whatever it is they have been forbidden to do or touch].  True story.

I hate to tell you that I left Tredessa in her little seat in a shopping cart 3 aisles over at the local department store and would not have thought another thing about it until I heard saleswomen oohing and aahing over her.  She was a week old and dad was always the “cart driver.”  But with 3 kids, he had one walking, and holding on, the other in the cart and now…the big, yellow newborn seat needed a space in an additional cart and I … left her for a few minutes.  Yes.  It happened.  Keeping count of 3 kids is much, much harder.  Much harder.  I may have had to use my fingers.

You’re going to have 876 pink socks, but not the same-matching pink socks.  They will each be slightly different and varying shades of pink.  Oh yes, at one time there would have been a match for each, but where those go, no one knows.  Mysterious.

And under every couch cushion will be dozens and dozens and dozens of hair ties and bobby pins.  Count on that!

And of the 368 dolls they collectively own, only about 2 will actually be properly clothed at any given time.

You will see more shoes and small purses and pastel-jackets in your entry hall than in all of Macy’s~  all of Macy’s in the United States, actually.

You will have a house with three little girls.  It will be sugar and spice and every-oh-so-nice-thing and pretty loud and high and songs will peal out and cries of distress over small things, too.  They’ll all want to be as beautiful as their mama and they ‘ll need their daddy to affirm they are. Be the man of their dreams, Bo-Bear.

I had three daughters first, so I can tell you, it will be sweet.  Not every second, but over the long haul of life, you will be blessed by more delicious-warm-cuddly-wondrous-sweetness than any of us deserves.

You have been chosen, entrusted by God, with these three, these little pretties.  And they will be the strong, bold, courageous generation of women who speak and sing out the faithfulness of the Lord to generations you and I won’t ever even see.  You are reaching into eternity x 3.  In pink.

You got this!

Love,

mom

 

Poppa? We need more speed.

Two boys in house is a wondrously loud and lovely thing.

They lived through that awful Bronco game on Saturday by way of lots of good “football food.”  Stayed up late watching silly movies and propped up in bed with stacks and stacks of pillows.

They got up early and watched “Kicking It,” (then jumped all over doing karate kicks) played many levels on their iPod games (but for a very limited time, because I am the Nonna and I said so!), played with Poppa’s “antique” electronic {extremely noisy} football game, ate chicken tacos and watched old b & w episodes of Gillgan’s Island. 

Two words: ram – bunctious!

Their energy level was dangerously high so I “challenged them” to run up and down the 2 flights of stairs to our top story…20 times!  By golly they did it.  It definitely wore them out (and Hunter may or may not be limping and moaning about very sore legs today).

Then they hauled out the 1960s Hot Wheels and miles of track which belonged to their Grand-poppa when he was a kid.

They built and re-built that track and tested car after car until they could tell me endless details of which cars took jumps well versus the ones that could hang tight on the curves.  At some point they called in to Dave, “Poppa?  We need more speed.”  His engineering skills were needed to make cars go faster.  :)  They played with those Hot Wheels until nighttime fell.

We are blessed to have Hunter for some days while mommy and daddy are hanging with Baby Kai.  So providing cousin-time is a good thing.

Did I mention several hundred Star Wars guys set up in marching formation in the living room?

Getting Acquainted with Baby Kai

Oh. my. word.  I love him.

I love him, I love him.

He is 5 days old today (Monday).  These photos were taken when he was three days old.

Please pray for him, will you?  Pray for my 7th grandbebe, 6 weeks early, if you would be so kind.  He is still in NICU at a really wonderful hospital with an amazing staff.  He has some challenges to overcome.  He has rhythms to master and development to continue and bottles to learn to love.

Sleep is his favorite, right now.  And he seemed to enjoy cuddling, too.

Poppa (who was also adopted so many years ago) blessed baby Kai.

This is the small giraffe who keeps careful watch over our little Kai during his time under “the lights.” 

And just so you know ~

These were taken Saturday, “Bronco” day.  And we dutifully wore blue and orange so the little guy would be exposed to that which he has been born.

But it didn’t help, did it?  Don’t blame me, I wore my orange.  I don’t even like football.  But, wow, I adore Malakai, bunches!

I have a new grandson!

Omygosh – I have had to wait two whole days to say it out loud!

He is here!  He is here!  He is here!  And 6 weeks early at that!  But a finer, more beautiful boy, you’d be hard-pressed to find!

{{Malakai Hatcher Powers}}   He’ll be known as “Kai” which means Rejoice!

Please DO read about him at Tara and Dave’s blog, which has been all about their adoption journey for the past year and a half.  ALL THAT WORK: for this beautiful bundle.  He is so worth it and we are very grateful to the young woman who gave him life and to God for placing him in our growing familia!  He is welcomed by grandmas and grandpas and nonnas and poppas and cousins and more cousins and aunts and uncles and LOVE!

READ HERE:  http://powersadoptionstory.blogspot.com/

REJOICE with me for another grandbebe…number seven!  Now I have 4 grand-girls and 3 grand-boys and though the boys have strategized a catch-up, so far not to be.  For the next grand-girl arrives in March!  Oh, yes, she does!!!

 

These are the Moments I Thank God I’m Alive

THE question for 2013, for me (probably you, too), right now:  Not “what time is it?”  But “What is it time for?”

“There is a time for everything and season for every activity under the heavens…”  Ecclesiastes 3.1 NIV

Edwin McCain’s voice used to stream through the musak-system of a party store I managed, the volume too low to actually hear for understanding, but loud enough we’d all to try to hum-mumble along.

The song isn’t in my top 100 or one that I even even ever thought of in forever.  But after I watched the video below (one I have liked for several years and just came across again again today), I found myself hearing his far-away voice and singing along:

And these are the moments,

I thank God that I’m alive.

And these are the moments,

I’ll remember all my life.

I’ve found all I’ve Waited for,

And I could not ask for more.

And weren’t Mary and I just discussing these things this very morning at Starbucks?

http://www.theyearsareshort.com/

In the ancient Greek language, there are 2 distinct words that mean “time.” 

One is chronos, referring to chronological or sequential time.  See a clock.  See a Dayplanner.  Think about making lists and hurrying to get them done “in time.”  Chronos asks the question, often frantically throughout my life, I fear, “What time is it?  What time is it?”  Wasn’t the rabbit in Alice-in-Wonderland having a chronos meltdown?  I’m late, I’m late for a very important date.

But kairos – it is different.  It seems to refer to the “supreme” or most “opportune moment.”  It speaks of an indeterminate amount of time in which something very special happens and is the word used in Mark 1.15:

The [appointed period of] time is fulfilled (completed), and the kingdom of God is at hand (Amp),

fully defining kairos to mean the appointed time in the purpose of God.

The appointed time!

Kairos asks this question: what is this time for?  What is this time meant to capture/accomplish?  What purpose does this time serve?  What are the moments this time is about?

Standing at the entry of this New Year with a whole houseful of rooms to explore and doors to open, the question, with complete disregard for the clock on the wall, is:

What is it time for?

This year, my life, my relationships, my work, my plans, my hopes, my dreams, my God-defined purpose…what is it time for?

Keep asking yourself that and you will be spot-on living the life you were meant to live every day of this year and beyond.  Answer this question and you won’t be rushing willy-nilly towards the future, but living each rich day with gusto in the now.

For my sweet protege, Mary, it is her time for being an amazing wife and creative, loving mommy and leading young women to finding their worth in Christ.  She is in her sweet spot doing these things.

For you?…