I learned a very long time ago that the ability to gain perpective on your situation is a crucial one. I have lost count of the number of times that I was able to get over a funk by spending time thinking about how whatever had me in said funk really, truly fit into the grand scheme of things. Most of the time it didn't even belong in the same universe as the grand scheme of things.
Since sometimes perspective can be a little hard to find, I thought I would offer up a little to all of my loyal readers. Matt and I have donated in the past to the Northwest Arkansas Children's Shelter. The NWACS provides temporary housing and respite care for abused and neglected children. We receive their newsletter, and got the newest one just the other day. Talk about perspective. Allow me to demonstrate:
- Think you have too much hard work in your life? The NWACS cared for 113 children in the last quarter. That's 113 children who have been deprived of love and basic care their entire lives. Many are terrified of adults. Most have been abused. Few have ever been played with, read to or hugged.
- Hate having to let people down? In the same last quarter, the shelter had to turn away 171 children. That means that around twice a day, a child desperately in need of help had to be turned away because of lack of space and funding. Where did that child end up? Where did all 171 end up?
- Sad that you don't have enough money for a vacation this year? On the shelter's list of most urgent supply needs: ponytail holders and children's swimsuits. Imagine a little boy who can't go swimming because he has nothing but a pair of old blue jeans, or a girl with tangly hair and no way to get it out of her eyes.
This post was not meant to make you feel miserable, believe it or not. However, if you aren't tearing up just a little, I do worry about you. The point of me bringing this up is that this is one of the few problems in our world that everyone can agree is horrible. It's not controversial, it's not up for debate--we have a responsibility to protect this country's children. And amazingly, it's doable! You don't have to be able to give thousands of dollars to help these kids. If you have children, just give some of their old clothes to the shelter. If you buy your baby 10 jars of strained peas, and she hates them, donate the other 9 jars! Every time you buy the value pack of toilet paper at Sam's, set aside 1 4-pack to donate. And when you buy your daughter a pack of ponytail holders, pick out the colors she'll never wear and send them on. It may just be a circle of elastic to you, but it's an exciting gift to a child who has never had a single thing to put in her hair.
I am putting together some items to donate to the shelter. If you want to help, let me know and I'll gladly come and get anything you want to donate. The shelter's website, www.nwacs.org, has got a more detailed list of their needs. If you don't live in NWA, I would be willing to bet there's a similar place in your area that could use your help just as much.
I can't promise that donating a few things to a children's shelter will change the world. To the kids who get the things you provide, though, you will be a hero. There's your perspective.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Sunday, August 5, 2007
It would have made GREAT ESPN footage.
I feel like the second half of this week happened on fast forward. Thursday evening was Abby's first soccer practice. I was a bit nervous for Matt, who along with Chad had to coach a group of 4 year old girls who had never played an organized sport before. However, the men rose brilliantly to the occasion, and the girls displayed a surprising amount of talent for first-timers. This could be quite the season for the Foxy Loxies! Yes, that's the team name--Matt thought of it, if you can believe it. Foxy Loxy is a character from the movie Chicken Little. The name suits these girls perfectly. I am campaigning with the other moms to get our own t-shirts that say Foxy Mamas. Has a nice ring, don't you think?
Friday was my office's annual staff retreat. It is tradition that my boss Karen plans the staff retreat and no one but her knows what we're doing until that day. This year she let me plan it, and I had a great time. I'll spare you all the details, but let me just give you a few highlights. The theme was Office Olympics. The games we played included Post-It Note Fencing, Duct Tape Archery, and the Dolly Pairs Obstacle Course. The final event was an Office Chair Relay held on a full size track. It was hysterical. I worked my tail end off to plan the whole thing, and I think it went well--at least I think everyone enjoyed themselves.
Now we head into an equally, if not more, busy week. Matt is going on a short trip for work, my job dives from the kiddie pool of crazy straight into the deep end of insane, and somewhere in there we have to squeeze in soccer, gymnastics and a wedding. But hey, it's nothing a Foxy Mama can't handle!
Friday was my office's annual staff retreat. It is tradition that my boss Karen plans the staff retreat and no one but her knows what we're doing until that day. This year she let me plan it, and I had a great time. I'll spare you all the details, but let me just give you a few highlights. The theme was Office Olympics. The games we played included Post-It Note Fencing, Duct Tape Archery, and the Dolly Pairs Obstacle Course. The final event was an Office Chair Relay held on a full size track. It was hysterical. I worked my tail end off to plan the whole thing, and I think it went well--at least I think everyone enjoyed themselves.
Now we head into an equally, if not more, busy week. Matt is going on a short trip for work, my job dives from the kiddie pool of crazy straight into the deep end of insane, and somewhere in there we have to squeeze in soccer, gymnastics and a wedding. But hey, it's nothing a Foxy Mama can't handle!
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Different is good
We live in a great neighborhood. It's not really even a neighborhood--just a quiet street of houses, filled with nice people (with the exception of the TOTAL punk that lives across the street, but he's moving).
One of the things I like about living here the most is that for a street with 25 houses, we have a surprisingly diverse population. We have a Hispanic family, an African American family, and several Indian families. It is incredibly important to both me and Matt that our kids grow up not just knowing that not everyone looks like them, and not even just not caring, but actually valuing it. Living here has helped.
Our next door neighbors are a precious Indian couple who had their first baby about 8 months ago. Since we first met them, they have known our names, and the kids' names. I am ashamed to say we have no idea what their names are, and it has now gone way beyond the point where we can ask. They delight in our kids and lavish attention on them when we run into each other outside. Abby adores them, and even asked one time if she could have a dot on her forehead like the lady next door. We always chat in the driveways, and we went over with a gift when their son was born.
At any rate, they have been gone to India to see their families for the last several months. Tonight, they brought over gifts they brought back for us. A necklace for me, bracelets for Abby, and a carved sculpture for Matt with his name engraved on it. Keep in mind that we did not do anything for them while they were gone--they stopped mail service and hired someone to take care of their yard.
I am totally overwhelmed. Never in a million years would it have occured to me to bring them presents. I'm sure most of you are the same way. Yet it fits completely with their sweet natures. I cannot imagine living in a country half a world away from your family, not being able to speak your first language, dealing with constant discrimination and stereotyping, and still having the guts to reach out and be kind to your neighbors. It should be noted that of all the American families on the street, we have met two. Take from this what you will, but our next door neighbors have caused me to be more grateful than ever that I don't live in a country where everyone's the same.
One of the things I like about living here the most is that for a street with 25 houses, we have a surprisingly diverse population. We have a Hispanic family, an African American family, and several Indian families. It is incredibly important to both me and Matt that our kids grow up not just knowing that not everyone looks like them, and not even just not caring, but actually valuing it. Living here has helped.
Our next door neighbors are a precious Indian couple who had their first baby about 8 months ago. Since we first met them, they have known our names, and the kids' names. I am ashamed to say we have no idea what their names are, and it has now gone way beyond the point where we can ask. They delight in our kids and lavish attention on them when we run into each other outside. Abby adores them, and even asked one time if she could have a dot on her forehead like the lady next door. We always chat in the driveways, and we went over with a gift when their son was born.
At any rate, they have been gone to India to see their families for the last several months. Tonight, they brought over gifts they brought back for us. A necklace for me, bracelets for Abby, and a carved sculpture for Matt with his name engraved on it. Keep in mind that we did not do anything for them while they were gone--they stopped mail service and hired someone to take care of their yard.
I am totally overwhelmed. Never in a million years would it have occured to me to bring them presents. I'm sure most of you are the same way. Yet it fits completely with their sweet natures. I cannot imagine living in a country half a world away from your family, not being able to speak your first language, dealing with constant discrimination and stereotyping, and still having the guts to reach out and be kind to your neighbors. It should be noted that of all the American families on the street, we have met two. Take from this what you will, but our next door neighbors have caused me to be more grateful than ever that I don't live in a country where everyone's the same.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Cleats of fate
Soccer season starts in just a few days--well, practices anyway. Abby is going to be playing on a 4 year old girls' team. Her friends Audrey and Carol Grace are on her team, as is Mandy's daughter Katie. There are 9 girls total. Their coach is my dear husband, with Audrey's dad Chad serving as assistant coach.
Really, this is more soccer lite than true competitive soccer. The playing field is tiny, they don't keep score, the coaches are the refs, and the parents are encouraged to spread out around the perimeter of the field to help keep the ball inside the bounds. It's mainly to get the girls to have fun, learn the basic rules of soccer (and by basic I mean REALLY basic, like don't touch the ball with your hands and don't sit down on the grass while the game is going on), and get some exercise.
The unfortunate fact is that while Abby may be playing soccer lite, the pre-season purchases were anything but cost lite. Abby has unluckily inherited my wide feet, bless her. We went on Saturday to buy soccer shoes. There is, it turns out, only one brand of soccer shoes that makes models even remotely wide enough to get her feet into, and even that company had only one shoe that would work for her. They're cute, and she loved them. Then she turned around, and I got a glimpse of the price tag. FIFTY FIVE DOLLARS. Before I could stop myself, I said, "You have got to be KIDDING me! I am not paying fifty five dollars for a four year old to run around and kick at a ball for two months!" The owner of the store, who was incredibly cute but waaay too into soccer, smiled kindly at me and said, "I completely understand. But I mean, this pair IS hers, they are meant for her." Seriously? I am a spiritual person, but I do not believe in the pre-destiny of soccer shoes. I could tell that he was dead serious too--this was not an attempt to get me to buy expensive shoes. In fact, there were more expensive pairs than that. At any rate, he figured out that Matt was the coach and that we were also buying soccer balls and cones and shin guards, so he knocked the price down to $30--still a lot of money, but he discounted everything else too, so I was okay with it. Besides, now Abby and her soul shoes can be together forever. Hey, those whom God has brought together, let no turf break asunder, right?
Really, this is more soccer lite than true competitive soccer. The playing field is tiny, they don't keep score, the coaches are the refs, and the parents are encouraged to spread out around the perimeter of the field to help keep the ball inside the bounds. It's mainly to get the girls to have fun, learn the basic rules of soccer (and by basic I mean REALLY basic, like don't touch the ball with your hands and don't sit down on the grass while the game is going on), and get some exercise.
The unfortunate fact is that while Abby may be playing soccer lite, the pre-season purchases were anything but cost lite. Abby has unluckily inherited my wide feet, bless her. We went on Saturday to buy soccer shoes. There is, it turns out, only one brand of soccer shoes that makes models even remotely wide enough to get her feet into, and even that company had only one shoe that would work for her. They're cute, and she loved them. Then she turned around, and I got a glimpse of the price tag. FIFTY FIVE DOLLARS. Before I could stop myself, I said, "You have got to be KIDDING me! I am not paying fifty five dollars for a four year old to run around and kick at a ball for two months!" The owner of the store, who was incredibly cute but waaay too into soccer, smiled kindly at me and said, "I completely understand. But I mean, this pair IS hers, they are meant for her." Seriously? I am a spiritual person, but I do not believe in the pre-destiny of soccer shoes. I could tell that he was dead serious too--this was not an attempt to get me to buy expensive shoes. In fact, there were more expensive pairs than that. At any rate, he figured out that Matt was the coach and that we were also buying soccer balls and cones and shin guards, so he knocked the price down to $30--still a lot of money, but he discounted everything else too, so I was okay with it. Besides, now Abby and her soul shoes can be together forever. Hey, those whom God has brought together, let no turf break asunder, right?
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
101 and counting
I just realized that my last post was my 100th blog entry! That's a big milestone! I started writing this blog at the end of August 2006, so I've hit a hundred in under a year. I feel quite accomplished.
To celebrate, let's take a little trip down memory lane. Tell me what your favorite post of mine was--if you have one. It will help me know what the people want more of. Also, tell me if there are any topics you think I should discuss. I'm open to suggestions.
No gifts, please--we'll save that for the 500th post party.
To celebrate, let's take a little trip down memory lane. Tell me what your favorite post of mine was--if you have one. It will help me know what the people want more of. Also, tell me if there are any topics you think I should discuss. I'm open to suggestions.
No gifts, please--we'll save that for the 500th post party.
Monday, July 23, 2007
There's no excuse
Oh, the shame, the shame. I feel so bad--even my precious great aunt Joyce wants to know why I haven't blogged in so long! I shall disappoint my fans no longer.
I would like to tell you that I have a good reason for not blogging much lately, but the truth of it is--I have just been lazy. I took two and a half weeks off of work to "get things done at home." Not much got done--doesn't it always work out like that? The break was welcome, nonetheless, but I am glad to be back in the groove of things now. So that you don't feel excluded, I will give you a brief glimpse into what AMEN has been up to:
- The kids are doing well. Abby is ready to begin her first attempt at an organized sport with soccer in just a few weeks. Her team's coach is, coincidentally, her father, so this should be a most interesting endeavor. It shall no doubt be the source of some fantastic blog posts. Ethan is learning new words daily, as well as how to take off his shoes, dive headfirst off the couch, and pin poor Annie (our dog) to the floor.
- Our friends Mandy and David have sold their Little Rock house and are finally heading for the hills. We've lived in different towns for so long, I can't imagine what it will be like getting to hang out whenever. Plus now, I can actually go WITH her to Gymboree to watch her do her magic.
- I have read the final Harry Potter book, and seen the fifth movie. Both were immensly satisfying. I know that some of you don't read HP, and to each his own, but I think the books make one of the best thought-out fiction stories I've ever read. That is one clever lady.
There is a pile of clothes that has conquered the laundry room and is threatening a hostile takeover of the kitchen, so I must go defend my home. Check back soon--I'm feeling inspired!
I would like to tell you that I have a good reason for not blogging much lately, but the truth of it is--I have just been lazy. I took two and a half weeks off of work to "get things done at home." Not much got done--doesn't it always work out like that? The break was welcome, nonetheless, but I am glad to be back in the groove of things now. So that you don't feel excluded, I will give you a brief glimpse into what AMEN has been up to:
- The kids are doing well. Abby is ready to begin her first attempt at an organized sport with soccer in just a few weeks. Her team's coach is, coincidentally, her father, so this should be a most interesting endeavor. It shall no doubt be the source of some fantastic blog posts. Ethan is learning new words daily, as well as how to take off his shoes, dive headfirst off the couch, and pin poor Annie (our dog) to the floor.
- Our friends Mandy and David have sold their Little Rock house and are finally heading for the hills. We've lived in different towns for so long, I can't imagine what it will be like getting to hang out whenever. Plus now, I can actually go WITH her to Gymboree to watch her do her magic.
- I have read the final Harry Potter book, and seen the fifth movie. Both were immensly satisfying. I know that some of you don't read HP, and to each his own, but I think the books make one of the best thought-out fiction stories I've ever read. That is one clever lady.
There is a pile of clothes that has conquered the laundry room and is threatening a hostile takeover of the kitchen, so I must go defend my home. Check back soon--I'm feeling inspired!
Thursday, July 5, 2007
She's alive!
There's no excuse--I'm a slacker. My apologies, now let's move on with things.
Today officially began my 2 1/2 week vacation. Sort of. Well, it did, except that I worked for about 3 hours from home and am not done yet. What can I say? They can't live without me up there.
We had a very nice, very low key holiday. We went to our firends' Kori and Billy's house for the afternoon. They have a huge pool, and we were there with several other families we know. We had a great time, though Ethan is not a fan of a swimming pool. Abby is a regular water baby, though. After swimming a while and then eating ourselves sick we came home and got E in bed, then did some minor fireworks in the front yard. We're very lucky--from our driveway, we can see several fireworks displays around town, including that of the fearless teenage boys up the street, and the crazy fools down the street. It's like I say every year, why pay to blow yourself up when you can watch others do it, then go inside and go to bed instead of to the ER?
Today officially began my 2 1/2 week vacation. Sort of. Well, it did, except that I worked for about 3 hours from home and am not done yet. What can I say? They can't live without me up there.
We had a very nice, very low key holiday. We went to our firends' Kori and Billy's house for the afternoon. They have a huge pool, and we were there with several other families we know. We had a great time, though Ethan is not a fan of a swimming pool. Abby is a regular water baby, though. After swimming a while and then eating ourselves sick we came home and got E in bed, then did some minor fireworks in the front yard. We're very lucky--from our driveway, we can see several fireworks displays around town, including that of the fearless teenage boys up the street, and the crazy fools down the street. It's like I say every year, why pay to blow yourself up when you can watch others do it, then go inside and go to bed instead of to the ER?
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