It's Corrective

Our toddler is sporting a cast.  I dreaded it, thinking she would hate it.  She is the girl who freaks out if she gets a drop of oatmeal on her hand.  But I was wrong.  Addie doesn't mind her cast.  She hasn't fussed about it once.  She wore her first cast (she picked a purple one) for two weeks.  She marched right out of the doctor's office, waving and saying thank you.  I think she has realized she's cute because she really knows how to work it, cast or no cast.  


We are now on to the second cast for another two weeks.  This time around she picked a pink one with glitter.  She seems excited about the whole experience. 

It looks like she will have a third cast for a total of six weeks of casting.  This is to help with straightening her left foot which is c-shaped [a condition called Metatarsus Adductus]. This was a good diagnosis to hear because doctors initially wondered whether she had neurological problems. 

The cast attracts attention and people say: "Ohhhhhh, you hurt your foot?"  "What happened?  How did you get your owie?"  Addie obviously hears all this conversation and our answers to people because last night I was talking to her about the cast and Addie says to me: "It's corrective."  Me: "What?"  Addie: "It's CORRECTIVE.  It doesn't hurt."

This girl makes me smile every day.  

2 Months In: Clothing Fast

Two months in on my year long fast from buying new clothes.   

Good thing I gave myself the exception of buying new underwear and socks.  I'm wondering if after the year I will have the best sock & underwear collection ever.

There are things I didn't consider when I set my goal.  Like, what if I gain weight?  It might finally be happening.  This is a good thing.  For me, as long as I can remember, I've been in pursuit of curves. Remember the jeans I mentioned having here?  I've cut two from the line-up.  The first pair were creating the dreaded "muffin top" which is never a good look.  Either I'm not as slim as I think or I'm not as toned.  Or something.  The second pair ripped.  No worries, I've still got 5 pairs of jeans left.  

I've purchased two things second hand which doesn't break any of my "rules" since I'm not consuming I'm just bringing home items already in circulation.  Rescuing them, really, and giving them a second chance and the love they need.  

• A 100% cotton button up shirt for $3.99.  
• A long, light brown cotton & cashmere cardigan for $4.99.   It's perfect for fall and, because it's long, it could help if any of my other jeans start looking a bit too "J-Lo".

It's going well.  I can do this.  Ten months left.  

Intensive Care

If it's a little quiet on my blog, it's because I've been at a loss on what to post.  I could post about how I love my dad's black bean salsa recipe or show you my most recent thrift find but my head's not in it.  I could tell you I was offered the part time job and I ended up saying no. 

Four weeks ago life brought a shock and I'm still shaking.  It's as if I saw a car wreck up close.  I wasn't in the accident but it impacts me.  Emotionally speaking, there are people in intensive care.  It's just too much.  

I can't write about it and I also need to think about something else.  Not to diminish the gravity of the situation but to release the burden and continue on.

I'm good.  Looking to God.  Doing the next thing.  Asking Him to help.  Hopeful.  

I remember being in an emotional intensive care in my own life.  The pain so great I wondered how it would ever heal.  During that time, 13 years ago, a wise and kind friend told me that I wouldn't be in the intensive care forever.  She said, I would slowly heal.  I'd move to my own room in the hospital.  In time, I'd gain strength and the pain would lessen.  Eventually, I would start physical therapy.  Then there would come a day when I would be released from the hospital and I would go home.  The word picture really grabbed me.  

It came true.  I am home.  Celebrating God's work in my life and so overwhelmingly thankful for the beauty, healing, and genuine life He brings.  

Life is all around me and I don't want to miss it.  Last week we had teacher-parent conferences and Jude's kindergarten teacher said he has a wonderful imagination.  It's so true.  He brought these two creations of his home today from school.  Left=crab. Right=giraffe.  I'm one proud mama.  

Now that I've written this, next, I may be able to write about my insanity with my clothing fast, the salsa recipe, or how attractive my husband is when he is reading books.  Or maybe something entirely different like my daughter's "human growth and development" class.  Yep.  

Linking up with Just Write.

Racial Awareness

Addie [28 months] is becoming more self aware.  I remember, in our adoption training class which was almost four years ago now, hearing about how kids will realize skin color fairly young [I think around 2-3 yrs?].  I think it's happening.  We've been telling Addie she was born in Ethiopia.  She realizes that is a place on our globe.  She connects that Marcus Samuelsson is also from Ethiopia.  So, the other day, Addie's daddy took her to the library.  When she saw a few black women sitting together she pointed at them and started yelling...."E-OPIA!!"  She is also into naming her colors.  This is pink.  That is purple.  She will also say her hair is brown.  She is discovering.  I think sometimes she is even giving special treatment to black people.  Like a nod of the head or an extra fist bump.  Maybe I'm imagining it.  

our big or little gray house

I was reading earlier this year from the book Organized Simplicity: 

National Public Radio reports that from 1950 to 2004, the average American home has doubled in size, what was once 983 square feet is now 2,349 square feet.  

Family size is smaller.  Houses are bigger.  Today, smaller families (average family size was 2.62 in 2002) "need" bigger homes. 

Statistically, the amount of stuff we have accumulated, the size of our storage & closets and our pursuits of more are excessive.  Yet, the average Americans aren't happier than a rickshaw driver in Kolkata, India, according to a documentary I watched the other day.  Even with all the more....Americans aren't any happier than they were in 1950.  

 via National Geographic 

Since our move last fall I've thought about needs vs. wants and our housing.  In recent years, I've traveled to other countries...and walked through homes.  In Haiti [2010], a woman gave me a tour of her new home.  Her home was considered nice in contrast to her neighbors.  It had walls, a roof, wood doors, a few rooms.  [I'm guessing it was maybe 400 sq. feet?]  Her and her husband were so proud and beaming as they gave our small group the tour.  A few things struck me.  1. She was sincerely happy and thankful.  2.  She made it a home.  Concrete walls and dirt floors were the backdrop of pretty little curtains hanging from a wire in one window and there was a single piece of art in the home.  I thought of how we do our best to make a house our home irregardless of our culture or financial means.  

Happiness isn't dependent on our surroundings.  I know this is true but I need to be reminded and let go of my grip on things.  In the documentary I watched it said studies prove that once our basic needs are met [for food, shelter, etc.] our happiness does not go up with our income.  Scientists stated that they found people's happiness does not really increase whether they earn $50,000 or 50 million as a yearly income.  

I've had various thoughts as we moved.  We get used to what we have.  I want to remember I have enough.  Maybe someday I'll live in a bigger house.  Maybe I never will.  I want that to be ok with me.  Not because there is anything wrong with a bigger house.  But I don't want to look to that or wait for that day.  I have enough.  Here in our little gray house [by today's standards in America] or our big gray house [by yesterday's or many countries' standards].  I am happy here. 

"The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, 

but in developing the capacity to enjoy less." (Don Millman)

Into His Arms

One thing I love in my relationship with God [especially in significant times in my life] is how He brings multiple things into my life, from many sources, to communicate a message to me.  I love words and He sends me the part of His Word perfectly suited to what is going on inside of me.  It's amazing because it's the same message breaking into my life.  It all has the same theme.  It's as if everywhere I go I hear the same song.  There it is again.  There it is again.  I can't escape the song.  

This week is yet another example of this.  

God is ministering and reminding He is close.

Today's, [October 1] scripture reading:

"Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand.  You guide me with your counsel...Whom have I in heaven but you?...My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever...But as for me, it is good to be near God.  I have made the Lord my refuge."  [from Psalm 73]

I continued reading with this: 

"Gaze intently with the eye of faith at the infinite wisdom and unlimited power of God, to whom nothing is impossible or difficult, and consider that His goodness is unbounded, and unspeakable His willingness to give, hour by hour, and moment by moment, all things needed for the spiritual life, if we will throw ourselves with confidence into His arms." 

Linking up with Grace Laced.