Thankful for Friends and Family

I had to do something embarassing.
I had to call and ask my father for money.





I had squirreled away money for my student loans while in preparation for not working while I was recovering from having my baby.
My husband has sole charge of our collective savings.
He'd been spending it without telling me.
Sigh.
Long story short, we had much less money to live on than I had anticipated.
So here we are, sneaking up on October. I'm back at work and we're able to pay all of our bills except my student loans.
I explained the situation to my father--that if I default or defer, I lose the 5% forgiveness of my interest if I make all my payments on time for the first five years.
He agreed I couldn't miss the payment.
He sent me a check.
Then he sent groceries--fresh meats, canned vegetables, boxed non-perishables--with my grandparents.
I could just cry.
It's embarassing.
It really is.

I love my daughter.
I love that my family is willing to help, even when they are facing their own economic hardships.
Other family members have sent help, which has really helped to get us through.
My husband's work buddies have sent fish which they've caught and cleaned.

I am so thankful that we have such loving friends and family who are moved to help.

The End of Summer {pretty, happy, funny, real} edition

It's been a fire storm of drama and bad news around here lately. Lots of family, friend, and financial issues which seem to be coming to a head and ready to blow at any moment. I'm linking up with the ladies at Like Mother, Like Daughter and have been looking for the contextment of contentment in everyday life this past week!



I've been trying to set a new morning routine, what with Little Shaver getting on the bus this year and our new addition Scout. After getting Shaver on the bus in the morning and Scout down for a nap, Madeline Ann and I have been spending our mornings on the front deck enjoying coffee and sunlight. She's so very {pretty}.

A rare picture of myself and in a {happy} and {funny} moment! Aaron and I went fishing without the kids. As a joke, I put on Shaver's life jacket but couldn't quite make it in. Remember the movie Tommy Boy when Chris Farley puts on David Spade's jacket? "Fat guy in a little coat," he sings. Well I'm a big girl in a little vest!

A {happy} and {real} moment in our home--Shaver loves to hold Scout. He's such a proud big brother, and luckily he ADORES his baby sister! Such moments make my heart melt into a puddle and give me moments of such joy that I seem to forget everything else going on in the world.

As a side note, I've been pumping and having Scout feed from a bottle during the day. I'm hoping to go back to work next week. Most of the time, she's quite willing to take any food source available. (My husband has a wet t-shirt from where she tried to nurse from him to prove it!) I struggle between the guilt I feel in beginning her weaning and the relief I feel from being able to share the responsibility of feeding her and more time with Shaver.

This past Sunday, Scout took an amazingly long nap in which I was able to pick up the whole house, vacuum, and sweep and mop, and Aaron was able to accomplish an incredible amount of yard work. Shaver bounced back and forth between us. I looked outside to check on my men and saw this! What a {happy}, {funny}, {real} moment! My son just adores my husband and is eager to help. Of course his bubble mower doesn't do anything to the lawn but this moment is burned into my memory. I laughed, watching Shaver scamper after Aaron, eager to help and please, and so happy to be involved in the upkeep of our home.

Have a great week!

The Relationship Between my Husband and my Son

My husband is not my father's son.
Gasp.
I know.

Some of you may judge me for that. Before you think about stringing me up over a tree, I think it's fair to remind you that such situations are not that uncommon these days. I believe having him was the right choice. Whether his dad and I had stayed together or not, I have never regretted his conception or birth. He is a sweet, beautiful, loving child. I was a silly girl in college and though precautions were taken to prevent pregnancy, they were unsuccessful. I thank God they were.

Little Shaver loves to do what Aaron does. Here he's following Aaron with his bubble mower as Aaron mows the lawn.

Little Shaver's dad and I tried to make it work. We stayed together through my pregnancy, he was there for the birth, and the first 15 months of Shaver's life. Shaver's dad and I were even going to get married, but I called it off six weeks before the day.



This photo was taken over a year and a half ago. Little Shaver loves to spend time with Aaron in the yard. And Aaron likes to teach him.



We were getting rsvp cards back in the mail, and I just couldn't do it. After seeking advice from my campus advisor and pastor, I finally had a good talk with my campus chaplain. She asked if I was nervous about my wedding day or my marriage. I knew then that getting married, even if it was ideal for my son, was not going to work. I called off the wedding and faced the consequences. And believe me, it wasn't pretty.

Aaron and Little Shaver at the local Easter egg hunt

Aaron and I were friends long before Shaver was even conceived. I would be lying if I said I didn't have a crush on him, even when I was dating Shaver's dad, but he was never the reason I left Shaver's dad.

After I left Shaver's dad, Aaron and I started dating. He took on a young woman with a young toddler who was working two jobs and going to school full-time. Can you imagine what he must feel for me--to want to marry a pretty difficult woman with some baggage and self-esteem issues and an autistic toddler?

It's sad that my son's dad and I aren't together--I've grieved for my son.

However, there are some positive points.



This was Little Shaver on the morning of his birthday this year. Aaron insisted on getting him his own cd player and children's cds.

My husband is a great guy. He truly is. He knows how to handle me and all the attitude I can dish out. He has learned to love and care for my son. He's actually the one who gave my son the nickname "Little Shaver". (I think it stems from my son's fascination with Aaron's shaving...) When he talks about Scout and Shaver, he refers to them as "our children". On some level, he does think of Shaver as his son.

Aaron's parents immediately and happily assumed the role of grandparents. (They even introduce him as their grandson--not my son or their step-grandson. He is their grandson!)

There was a lot of luck, or divine intervention, that made what could have been a really crappy situation good for my son. He gained another father figure and another set of grandparents. Shaver's dad and I are still friends and only live about five minutes from each other. We have promised never to bad mouth each other and have really stuck to that.

Two years ago I was the maid-of-honor for my best friend's wedding, and Little Shaver was the ring bearer. (See the bear? Hehe!) Aaron was good enough to chase Shaver around the rehearsal dinner, dress him for the wedding, and chaperone him down the aisle!

Scout's birth has complicated Shaver and Aaron's relationship. There are days my son isn't perfectly behaved and needs a time out. His autism is hard to deal with at times. Aaron and I both get irritable with him. I remind Aaron that if he doesn't take special time with Shaver like he does for Scout, it will destroy Shaver. That really seemed to click for Aaron, and he's been making a special effort ever since.



Last summer, I was a bridesmaid for my step-mom's wedding. While we girls went shopping, had hair and nails done, and enjoyed a night out together, Aaron was caring for Little Shaver in a town he'd never been in so that I could be a good bridesmaid.



I worry about the relationship between Aaron and Shaver now that Scout has joined the family. Aaron has honestly admitted that he feels differently about Scout than he does about Shaver. He says it's hard for him not to be Shaver's biological dad. That's okay. I feel differently about Shaver than I do about Scout. I think it's natural. I think it's important to work on, but I think there's always something special about your first-born. I just pray that Aaron and I both work on our different feelings and are able to develop and keep great relationships with both our children.

Scout is 5 Weeks

Scout is five weeks old and though I know it's unreasonable, I'm starting to get frustrated that she's still up twice a night for feedings.

Next week is my six week appointment. The following week I have opened myself up to be free for substitute teaching. It's the beginning of the school year, so I know they won't need me every day yet, but I'm hoping to get back to work with some consistency.

Funds are running low as of late. I have student loans that I'm working on. We have bills. Groceries are increasing in price. I've been starting to get scared. We're just treading water over here. And though I swore I was not going back to bartending ever again, I've been taking hours that my old boss has offered on the understanding that I will only work as fill-in and will not be coming back to my regular shifts, which were Friday, Saturday and Sunday and a total of 30 hours per week. (She still hasn't quite replaced me yet.) My family has been great and sending help when they can, but it is still hard.

I also need to go back to work for my own sanity. I love my children, but being in a house in the country with no long-distance phone plan has been difficult. The days get lonely. I practically smother my husband when he gets home. I'm constantly checking Facebook and have been starting to watch some of the most ridiculous shows on television.

Next week we will be on a trial run. I'll be going to bed at 7 pm, after putting my son to bed. I'll be getting up at 5 am, practicing getting myself, Little Shaver and Scout ready by 7am and checking for job postings. I need to know that I'll be able to do this--I have to be able to do this. I'm eager to get back in the swing of things. I just hope Scout is ready.

Do You have a Journal?


Do you have a journal? I mean other than your blog?
I do.
Sometimes there are things you just can't blog about. Sometimes I need a private place for my thoughts. And sometimes I just don't have access to a computer and need to put my thoughts down.
This is my journal.

Front cover of my journal. I used scrap wrapping paper and stickers that I found from when I used to scrapbook.

 I buy composition notebooks around the start of the school year.
I started this when I was student teaching a few years ago. My cooperating teacher handed me a notebook and told me to journal every single day. He encouraged me to use it to reflect on my experiences and observations. He encouraged me to participate in the creative writing course he took, write down ideas, or even just journal about what was going on in my life. Some days he gave me specific assignments. I remember him making me journal for 15 minutes one day when I was discouraged and was thinking of just giving up.
Now I buy two a year: one for personal use and one for notes specifically about my substitute teaching experiences.

Back of my journal. I wrote down quotes I found and liked using different pens or permanent markers. The quotes are things I found funny or inspirational.

I decorate the journals to make them my own. As you can see, I use different kinds of paper or post-its. I also put down quotes that I find, religious or secular, to inspire me or amuse me.
Much of the time when I turn to my journal, I need to let out something that I can't let out anywhere else. It's usually a sad or angry reason, and I find that I usually need a laugh or encouragement.

Inside cover of my journal. I used a bunch of different post-its that I found and liked, that I thought would cheer me up. Most of these are inspirational quotes about faith.

I can't really talk about what's been bothering me lately.
I can tell you that I've honestly been struggling with post partum depression. My doctor knows and is involved. There are therapists here throughout the day for my son's autism therapy, so I'm not home alone a lot. I love my daughter, but being home alone with the kids is too socially isolating for me. I look in the mirror and get depressed about my stretch marks. I think about the plans I had for my life that didn't involve having children. I think about the enormous responsibility of having two small children so entirely dependent on me and get overwhelmed. I have to remember that the Lord entrusted this task to me, that I have to follow His plan, that most women struggle with the scars of motherhood.
But some days I just need to be sad and grieve. And I put those thoughts in my journal.

A page from my journal. Sometimes I cut pages from magazines and attach things that I think I need to remember in their entirity and make notes about them.

I don't just put sad or mad thoughts in my journal. I used my journal to keep track of my plans for my baby shower and for Little Shaver's 4th birthday party, from the guest list, favors, to the layout of the party.
Sometimes I write down all the things I am grateful for.
Sometimes I put in my prayers.
Sometimes I just write down what's going on in my life.
Sometimes I use three or four pages to explore my thoughts on a given Bible verse.

Another page from my journal. On the right handside is a list of things that I was grateful for one particular day.

If you don't have a journal, maybe you need one. I know I do. It's helping me get through this difficult time.

Shaver's First Day of 4K - {pretty, happy, funny, real}

{pretty} See the spider web? I marvel at the beauty of the workmanship!

{happy} A sleeping Scout! In her pretty $10 thrifted bassinet!

{funny} Little Shaver didn't want to stop watching PBS long enough to take a picture on his first day of 4K. Can you believe he has to get on the bus between 6:40 and 6:45 every morning!?

{real} I spent an hour folding five loads of laundry last night. *Sigh* Housework has been getting harder to keep up with as Scout won't sleep more than two or three hours at a time yet!

The One That Got Away

Last Saturday, my husband and I went fishing. We left the kids with his folks and hit the lake for about four hours with another friend, each of us enjoying each other's company and quiet time away from our children for a few hours.

We were fishing for bass, so we were fishing pretty close to abandoned docks and patches of weeds. Many of the ones we were catching were only 11 or 12 inches long, and they had to be 14 inches to keep. Drag!

My husband got bored and decided to switch bait and thought it would be fun to try out a new spoon. (For those of you non-fisher folk, it's just a shiny metal lure that's painted on one side and is supposed to mimic an injured fish.) The spoon was three or so inches long, and I teased him that there was nothing big enough in the small in-land lake we were fishing in to catch with that bait.

Boy! Was I wrong!

After his second cast, Aaron said he thought he was stuck. He pulled up on his pole but there was no give. I told him to let the line run, and it started pulling. Oh, there was something on that line. And it was BIG!

Aaron let her run for about ten minutes before he started pulling her in. (If you don't run 'em, they can snap the line.) He was still sitting in our boat, but I stood up to see what he had caught. My eyes literally bugged out. I yelled a few expletives, and she went back underwater. It was a HUGE northern pike!

Once the guys knew what was going on, they were able to catch a glimpse of her too. Yup, she was big.

At one point, she surfaced for a few minutes, her eyes just above the surface of the water, as if she was studying us. What was going to happen now?

At this point, I need to explain the ridiculousness of our situation. The lake we were on does not allow motors, so our boat only had a small electric trolling motor that doesn't cast a wake. Our friend was in a boat beside us, and we were joined up in order to figure out what to do. My husband's boat is a sailboat that he bought without a mast or sail for $50 that he then put two boards and seats in so that he could take it fishing. Our friend has a small row boat with three seats, one of which opens up for storage. Our net was small in comparison to the fish. We were lucky if were going to get her head in it. And just to add to the hilarity of the situation, none of us are "experienced" fishermen. We went pan fishing with our dads as kids and that was about it.

"What do we do?" we asked each other. Aaron wanted to keep it, and we agreed to try to measure her in the water. I locked the measure at 33 inches and held it above her as she was surfaced. Holy mackerel! She was even longer! A good two or three inches longer! The men decided we needed to keep her.

But where were we going to put her? And how were we going to get the lure off that giant fish? And how did we get her out of the water when she was so large and had such big teeth? We were all too scared and inexperienced to really know how to handle the situation.

I suggested hammering her in the head and killing her in the water, but a) we agreed that was inhumane and b) no one had a hammer. (I know hammering a fish in the head sounds terrible, but isn't a slow death of suffocation just as bad?) It was agreed that she couldn't come in my and my husband's boat--she was too big to even put on the floor. And she'd tip us if she thrashed around, which we knew she was going to do if she were left alive. The men decided that she would go in the storage seat of our friend's boat. Our friend would net her tail and the two would lift her by line and net into the seat, cut the line, close the seat, and wait for her to die.

Not a great plan. But it was a plan.

The guys waited until she surfaced again and counted to three. I pulled my hat over my eyes and held my breath. (I didn't like this one bit! I wish we'd never caught that stupid fish because now we had to kill her and I just felt sick!) I heard the guys yelling, thrashing of water, an expletive, and then silence. I peeked out from under my cap, and the guys were just staring into the water with mouths and eyes wide. Aaron was holding a broken line between his fingers.

I sighed in relief and both men cursed and laughed a little. That was quite a fish that got away!

Aaron has been sulking for the past three days about "The One that got Away." He bought a bigger net and some new spoons. He's planning to go back for her.

I don't tell my husband, but I really am glad she got away. I worried about her the first night, picturing her swimming the lake with this huge lure stuck in her mouth, but Aaron assured me it would work its way out. Her eyes have been haunting my dreams, and it would have hurt me to see such a magnificent creature killed, even if we were going to eat her.