Most scared of...

There was a guest speaker at church tonight. He was OK. Almost too funny actually.

Something he asked has got me thinking though.
He asked what I am most afraid of.
I was thinking about my many fears the other day so this struck a cord with me.

I see myself as a very very very paranoid person. Seriously, even when there is really nothing to be even remotely afraid of, I find a way to be afraid.
Now, I mostly can conquer my fears with prayer and will power, but that doesn't mean I stop feeling afraid.

But what am I most afraid of?? That I had to think about.
Let's see, I am afraid of being trapped in a small place or a place period sometimes.
I don't think that's my greatest fear though because I know that God is with me.
God has always taken extremely good care of me, so if anything goes wrong with the world around me, I know that somehow I will be OK. Even if I don't feel OK.

I have come to the conclusion that the thing I would most be afraid of is losing my awareness.
Becoming unable to understand even the most simple concepts, that would be the most frightening thing that could ever happen to me. At least from my point of view.

All other problems that I could face I could deal with, as long as I had the capacity to understand and too think I would find comfort in that.

I guess it's kind of vain, but I am afraid of being stupid. I know that in many ways, I probably seem very stupid to others. I know that even if I do stupid things, I can still learn, change, expand my awareness. Only when a person stops being able to learn are they truly stupid.

It's probably one of my biggest frustrations with people. The refusal to learn, to change, to actually think about things before they do them!!
I never want to be like the people who cause me the most grief in life.
That would really scare me.

Thoughts on life

I want to be a wrinkled old women.
When I look into the faces of older people and see the amazing patterns of creases and folds, I am amazed by the thought that just 20 odd years ago, these same faces were smooth.

I feel frustrated by the fact that so many think that aging is something to 'fight' that wrinkles are somehow inherently evil or 'wrong'.

I see nothing wrong with wrinkles, with grey hair, with anything that makes an older person 'unique'

I know that the standard for beauty means that unique-ness is completely out of the question.

What boggles me the most is how one wrinkle becomes much more than one.

It's like when you see a baby, you can't imagine right then that the baby will be a grown up.
When I look at pictures of myself as a baby, it's always so hard to imagine that the child in the picture was really me!!

Right now, insanely I feel like I have always been just as I am, even though I know I have not.

Transformation that occurs in people as they grow up, and grow old is utterly mind-blowing to me.
I know it is a simply thing that happens all the time, but I find it to be extremely amazing and beautiful to see that a person has grown old.

I can't wait till all my hair turns grey. I will not 'fight' it!! I think grey is a good colour, beautiful even!
I think that everything that happens in a human being, growing, changing, it is all worth experiencing and cherishing.

Life is all a miracle, to treat any part of it with contempt is throwing away the only thing any of us really have.

Every pain, emotion or physical or spiritual, it all means that I'm alive and I am grateful for that.
Every thing that makes me me means that I am ALIVE!

Every person who is alive is different yet the same as me, because we are both alive!
That is more important that being some 'idea' of what beauty is supposed to be.

God, please, give me wrinkles and grey hair!!! Glory to His name forever and ever!

Amen!!

perception

Lately I have been wondering how people who don't know me by name would refer to me.

I mean, I have lots of interesting names for people I whose names I don't know.
From customers to people who I see on the bus or the street or even at church, I find ways to describe people and to think about them and pray for them sometimes even.

What would one of the people I refer to by silly descriptions such as 'twitchy-weird-nice-guy-who-sits-near-me-in-church, how would he refer to me if he didn't know my name?
(today at church he asked my name, and I learned his, Justin, a name I kind of like, but the kid is way to young for me. Don't you get any bright ideas!)

How does the bus driver refer to me in his mind? How would the customers I serve refer to me if they didn't remember to read my name tag?

Would I be the chubby girl with messy hair?? The 'nice' lady with glasses?? The tall lady with glasses?? The big tall lady with glasses?? The loud annoying lady???

Something I really struggle with is trying not to care what other people think of me.
Chances are they are not even thinking of me at all very much, and if they do it is very brief, I hope.

I think that one of my biggest problems is that often I am perceived completely incorrectly!!
I heard a sermon once where the preacher monologued a fictitious conversation with God.
God was asking a man
'Why are you so angry at that person?'
the man replied
'Because that person perceived me incorrectly!! '
God answered
'So, you believe that you have the right to be correctly perceived at all times?'

Obviously asking that everyone totally get who you really are and what you are about at all times is impossible. I still feel angry when someone gets something about me wrong, but I shouldn't because that is unfair of me to expect that.

Chances are that I get things wrong about others much of the time, and I want them to have mercy on me and tell me kindly where I am wrong, so I have to do the same myself.

Sometimes I think that others have noticed how much I get things wrong about people and that is why they don't want to be my friend. They probably get tired of correcting me so much.

The same is true for me, many times I have told people the pertinent facts of my life.
Then I find that just a month or more later, they ask all the same questions and say all the stupid stuff they were so wrong about before I corrected them, again!

I get tired of the onslaught of ignorance that many people want to dwell in, so I avoid many people for fear of facing the fact of this damaging ignorance so many people hold fast too because I am trying to avoid the damage I see them in.

I know I live in my own type of ignorance much of the time, I know that I would have to kill myself if I really let myself understand all the truth of my life, and I don't want too.

I have to see that life is good because I have a full belly and a warm, soft, dry, safe place to sleep and the luxury of freedom(I knew I guy named Freedom once, last name Burrows, seriously, was a terrible crush...wonder what happen to him...) in many many ways.

I wonder how you all in blog-land imagine I am....I wonder if I would even slightly match what you think I am...maybe I would...maybe not... really...

I hope that what you imagine is right, especially if you have never met me, that would just be so encouraging to me, really it would!!

Life with Lucy

A friend asked about my cat Lucy just the other day and it occurred to me that I only wrote one post about her.
She is a really great cat, so I think I should tell you more about her.

Right now, I am feeling a little sad about her, she is fine, but I think she has a cold.
See, when I adopted her, the place I got her from said that she would for sure have a cold for the first while.

Well, it's been over three months and I didn't see any symptoms until now.
I looked up Lucy's symptoms and apparently cold viruses in cats can be dormant for months before a cat gets sick at all.

Lucy's symptoms are really mild actually, just one weepy eye and she kind of 'sniffles' from time to time. No sneezes, just like, well, wheezes.
I actually thought that was how she normally breathed after all the playing that we do.

At least she is still normal in every other way, eating, using the litter box, playing...etc

Lucy is the most social cat I have ever known. She's is kind of less active now, maybe because of her cold or because I am fattening her up a little. I just give her as much food as she wants.

The last time I tried to keep a cat on a diet, he died(kidney failure, maybe I stressed him out??), so I am just not going to do that again!!

My life with Lucy is good though for the most part. I am learning more and more about her as time goes on.

Some cute things that have happened.
Spontaneously one day she did a full back-flip while we were playing with her fake-fur mouse on a string.
She loves playing with her fake-fur mouse by throwing it down the stairs (from her mouth) and chasing it, or just batting it around. Funny thing, I was finding little pieces of black fabric and could not figure out where it was coming from (my mom has a lot of craft supplies) but then I noticed the toy mouse was torn and it was filled with the pieces of fabric I was finding!!

I guess the fabric is safer than cotton batten that could be ingested, the companies making toys for pets know what they are doing!!

Anyways, Lucy seems to really like living here, with me, she purrs almost constantly.
That should be a good sign, right?

The only time when she has been 'bad' lately is because my mom got some spare flowers from her church(they had a thing, there were lots of flowers for decoration, I'm assuming)
and she but them on our entertainment shelving thingy(mantel??).

Lucy became very interested in the flowers, and since my mom had but them in a very nice, not replaceable vase, it was kind of nerved-wracking to see Lucy so curious about them.

She is a cat after all though, so I should have expected her to be curious about anything new, especially flowers that probably smell ten times stronger to her than me!!

She did try to get at them, but I sprayed her with the water sprayer(it's just a little thing) and I didn't even get her really.
That night, she completely ignored me, refused to play or receive affection for the most part, I think she was mad at me.
The next day, she was all super-friendly again, so I guess she doesn't care about the new flowers anymore.

The only things that kind of worry me about Lucy is that she seems to want to eat only when I am right there with her.
If I fill her dish, and then have to run to the bathroom, she will follow me instead of eating her food.

I find that if I am home when she uses her litter, she seems to want me to clean it right away.

I really wish I could understand her 'meow' language.
Lucy has the most hilarious way of meowing and making little chirps and squeaks mixed in with purring sounds. Sometimes I can guess what she wants. Other times I am just amused by her.

My mom told me something weird the other day. I came home late and she actually went to be early. Lucy has her own room, we put her in there(has all she needs and more, trust me!) when we go out or go to bed.
My mom told me about this night where she couldn't get Lucy to go downstairs to her room.
You might not believe me, but Lucy seems to obey commands like 'go to your room' or 'come here' really, she does!!

Anyways, she was meowing at the back door for a while and my mom was like 'what do you want!'. We never let her out, she's an indoor cat, she her meowing at the back door was unusual.
My mom went to try and get her to go to her room and then she noticed that she had forgotten to lock the back door!!

My mom thinks Lucy was trying to get her to notice that by staying at the back door and making a fuss like she did because as soon as my mom locked the door, she when straight to her room, according to my mom.

One other weird thing is whenever I have a nap with Lucy, she tries 'kneading' me and she always goes for a part of me that is sore (I have a pain disorder, lots of parts of me are sore).
I really wonder how she knows where I am hurting.

Once, when I was napping with her, my foot was twitching, unconsciously, like it does sometimes and at first she just put her paw(no claws) on it. When both my feet twitched she got up from where she was laying on my leg and laid straight across my ankles, with all paws on my feet.

It was kind of cute, like she was doing everything in her power to stop my twitching feet (I promise you I don't do it on purpose!!)

The latest thing that has happened is that stray cats keep coming to our backyard, and when I bring Lucy out, she seems completely calm about their presence.

I would have thought the sight and smell of other cats would displease her...
Maybe it's because I am holding her and I only step out of the house holding her for a minute or two.

Also I think she prefers to watch the brown-ish squirrel(that we throw out peanuts to) rather than the black squirrel. Maybe because the brown-ish squirrel hits windows in an effort to get attention (and peanuts) while the black one just waits and doesn't come as often.

Anyways... I need to go to sleep.
Hope you like my update on my wonderful cat that I love very very very much(even though I still miss Louie)

The filler

The last time I tried to post an entry I lost it, and because it was an "angry at life" entry I didn't feel like writing it all again.

Lately I have been feeling like nothing in my life is very noteworthy or blog-worthy for that matter.

I could be blogging more, and maybe someone out there might actually be intensely interested in my thoughts and feelings.
I don't know why, maybe hoping that I might suddenly have some kind of life-changing news or something.

No, nothing like that will ever likely happen to me.

Just last weekend I actually had the whole weekend off (a rarity for shift work) and I did mostly nothing but read books.
I went to church on Saturday and took a trip to the store on Sunday, but other than that, I just read books(and watched one program on TV).

I took a break from my computer, because I was beginning to feel controlled by it.
Doing stuff like actually reading my real, physical Bible instead of an Internet one is a good idea anyways.
I can't let my Bible get dusty, makes me feel guilty for neglecting it.

I spent some time looking at my moms photo albums, I do that from time to time.
I like looking at old photos, someday I want to scan them all to digital memory and print out copies for scrap booking(if I can ever get the hang of doing that...).

Every time I look that those photos I feel differently about them.
Last weekend when I was looking at them I was noticing that the photos all follow a similar life pattern of births, marriages, and deaths.
With some other happenings as well but those basic themes are what my mom's photos are all about.

I noticed there are more wedding photos than almost anything else, and not just of my mom and dad's wedding, but their respective siblings weddings, cousins weddings, and of course my sister's wedding.

I remember as a child thinking that getting married would be a given, something as predictable as my birthday, or graduating high school or some such event.

I have come to the realization that I will likely never get married.
Also that many other people treat getting married as a given.
Those people think I am crazy for giving up the illusion that I could still have a life where I get everything I want. I know that my life will never match, say, Toby's parents life, I will never be that normal, and I am OK with that, really!!

I know that I fall way out of the 'norm' for most of my family history.
There have been a few others who never married, but they are true out casts.
I guess that is my fate as well, and it's OK with me.

Really, I am great at being alone. I like being able to pray by myself and really let myself 'feel' God healing my soul.

Truth is people don't know how much it hurts to be a filler.
That's what I have decided I am, to pretty much everyone I know.
I'm a filler.

Don't understand, let me explain.
I am the one who 'will do' until the person who is really right for a place your life comes along.

When I was born, I was the filler for the other babies my mom lost before she had me.
When my sisters came along, it was obvious that they were the ones that she needed, and I was just the filler until they came.

I am ordinary, I am not ugly, but I am not a 'beauty' either. I am not stupid, but I am not a genius, I am not the kind of person that charms everyone and makes things better, but I don't really make anything very much worse.

I know that I conceived my son in a rebound relationship, his father likely does not consider me a 'serious' relationship in the history of his relationships.

I know that at the church plant where I volunteered for four years that I was not the kind of volunteer the church organizers really wanted. Even though I showed up on time, all the time, I did whatever they asked without complaint, and with joy. I did not have what it takes to really be a real part of the mission.
That is why they phased out all the jobs they gave me to do without telling me, and then expected me to just 'understand'.

That is why none of my problems are really worth any ones time or attention, from church or friends, or family or work or any other place. No matter what they are, nothing that happens to me is of very much consequence because I am not really someone who's fate matters.
I know this because I am well aware of my own mediocrity, I know my limits.

The times I have tried to change them were always met with failure, so now I have learned to live within my own personal limits.

I know how to take care of myself with barely depending on a sparse few, and while providing some kind of 'filler' service for those few. Whenever someone may be lacking something they need, a companion, a sounding board, a prayer partner, a worker, I am someone they can use until the one who was supposed to be these things shows up. Why would you care that that I am crazy, fat, have bad skin, and that I am a little 'slow' as long as I am of some kind of benefit to you? At least until the perfect fit(the one you wanted in the first place)comes along, almost anyone will do.

It really doesn't matter what is wrong with me because I am just a 'filler'.
If I can do the trick for someone, be something "good enough" for someone or some place for a time, then I am allowed to be there.
For a time I get treated like I matter, but only until someone better comes along.

Then of course, I am forgotten, at least I hope I am.
Wouldn't be right for a filler like me to be remembered, would only mess things up.
That would be no good.

Yeah, this is why I try and blank my mind out with prayer and reading.
When I let the thoughts out, this is what comes out...you must all hate me.

If you actually took the time to read this, I am sorry you wasted your time.

Now I am going to try posting, see if it actually works again...

Goodbye until next time poor dears who read this lousy blog

The encouragment of humming

There are many subtle and not so subtle ways that I find God encourages me to let me know that He is with me when I least expect it.

Sometimes my faith is not very strong at all. Some days I feel like I am a fool to try and keep on believing what I do when nothing around me gives me reason to.

Times when I feel unworthy to consider myself a spirit-filled person of faith because of all the nasty thoughts and stupid actions I do regularly, but really wish I could stop doing!!

A few days ago, in the morning, I was feeling somewhat apathetic about my faith .
I was working early that day(my shift times change often) and riding public transit when the super-friendly-crazy-old-cowboy-man(who must be about 80yrs or something) got on the bus.
He is harmless enough, and sometimes says funny things to me, or anyone else around him, in a jovial way.

When I got on the train after getting off the bus, he actually made it all the way to the last car,(that I always get on because the first car is always packed because people are too lazy to spread themselves out into all the available train cars) and it was nearly empty, maybe a dozen people on it.

Anyways, super-friendly-crazy-old-cowboy-man sits right near me, not exactly next to me, but near me. Which is OK with me, because I know he is harmless. Then he started humming, and I knew the song he was humming.
It was 'The Old Rugged Cross'.

Being part of a church family all my life(truly!) means that I have the sound of thousands of hymns ingrained into my very brain from before I was even born. To tell you the truth, I prefer the songs that just are naturally part of my thoughts than those that I hear. I will never be one of those people who are addicted to music players and have to constantly be inundating their minds and ears with sound.

I am perfectly comfortable with silence, with the songs that play themselves in my mind, well... most of the time at least.

Hymns are songs that mean so much to me, they bring me back to the times when my faith was strong, when I felt completely assured of salvation and had not a shadow of a doubt.
Hymns are songs that I feel unable to forget, I don't know why, it like they have some kind of special power over me.
As soon as I hear the first three or four notes of a hymn, I will likely instantly remember almost every word of it as well.

Hearing 'The Old Rugged Cross' hummed for three and a half whole minutes(while I rode the train to my destination) was extremely comforting. I wonder if that super-friendly-crazy-old-cowboy knows that he encouraged my faith that day? I didn't say anything to him, talking in the morning is hard for me, especially since I still have this throat thing bothering me.
I couldn't even sing if I wanted too!! sigh!!
It doesn't matter though, because my mind can sing songs that no one but me can hear.

Truly I think it is my Lord telling me, 'I am here with you, I do love you, you are of great value to me' when things like this happen.
Or I could be making something out of a simple silliness, I hope not though.

I choose to believe that God is in control of all things, and He knows every detail of my life and loves me more than I could ever imagine.
When I hear an crazy old guy hum a hymn I know well, it just means that God knows that I was going to be there and that I needed to hear that.

My faith is the only thing working for me most days, even when I think I am not doing a good job at being a christian, God is still loving me...

A huge relief

Another visit with Toby is over. I am quite relieved to tell you the truth!
Everyone was very nice and I think we all had fun.

Toby's dad wasn't there, apparently he wasn't going to be coming in the first place because of his job(which he must go to because he didn't have one until recently).

The weirdest thing that all this time I was desperately wanting a visit I wasn't realizing what being with a very active boy is like!!

It is probably really obvious to everyone that I am not used to being around kids.
I mean, even my sisters kids(whom I love dearly) I only visit for an hour or so once or twice a month, and only because they live so close to me(about four blocks away)!!

My nieces and nephew aren't nearly as active as Toby is, well maybe they are and I just catch them at their 'slow' times...

It's just silly of me to complain about only getting to visit for an hour when an hour is all I can take of Toby. I am so so so sore right now!! I am glad that Toby and his sister enjoyed the bubble wands I bought for them, even if they did think it was more fun to just make a mess spilling out the bubble liquid!!! Toby is a real bundle of energy, truly!!!

I am happy that we got to visit at a park, where Toby could run around as much as he wants to his hearts content. I played together on almost everything, the teeter-totter, the swings, the slide, the climbing bars, everything!!

Toby talks almost constantly in a very soft insisting tone all the time. He's at that stage where he wants a reason for everything. Asking why about every little thing you can think of.
Which is perfectly normal. He even knows my name and says it perfectly(I know you might think it's hard to mispronounce Cindy, but you'd be wrong)

Some things that I learned today about him are surprising and unique, or at least I think so.
When we were looking at a very very nice little flower garden in the park he wanted to know where the dandelions were, he said he preferred them.
Why would a little boy prefer dandelions to rare rainbow coloured flowers?
Maybe because he's allowed to pick them, maybe because he likes yellow....who knows.

He really likes nature, and seems to understand how it works too!!
He explained fully well how a tree grows from a seed.
I guess he has learned some good things in the last few months!!

I also learned that he likes food with curry in it!!
I think that his food likes are taking after someone else...(although I like curry, sometimes!)

The only things I have slight qualms with are what I learned from his mom.
That she is not starting him in school (when he turns five), even though she can, because his birthday is very close to the cut-off for registry. Which is OK, I wish he could go to school, but holding him back one year is not going to damage him for life or anything. Will probably give Toby's mom time to potty-train him!!

Yes, that's right, Toby is still not potty-trained as well, but I am letting these things go because they are not the end of the world. Letting Toby decide when he is ready to potty-train might be the best decision for him right now. It's just a little disconcerting to know that a boy, who is three and a half years old, and is the size of an average five year old(seriously!), is still walking around with poo-poo in his pants.

All in all, it was a really great time. When we all said good-bye and gave hugs, Toby hugged me first and for a long time too!!! I was crouched down and I nearly fell over trying to keep my balance while hugging him!!

I think that visits are becoming a little more 'ordinary' for Toby, at least I hope so!!
I want him to see me as just another person who cares about him.
I don't need to be something super special or anything.
I just need to know that he 'knows' who I am and can see that I do care about him.

I know that just knowing what people care about you can really help a person in life.
If I had known that people really did care about me(as a child), well.... things in my life would be very different!!

Anyways, I am completely beat, my back is aching, my knees are aching, and I desperately need a good nights sleep after so many sleepless nights this week worrying about this visit.

Turns out I really had nothing to worry about!!
Wish I could learn my lesson about worrying, it's such a bad habit!!
Still, I will wonder about the day that things might get unpleasant during a visit.
Even though that is highly unlikely!!!

Pray for me, I am so so crazy!!

Saturday, Saturday, Saturday when will you be here?

I can't decide whether I feel like Saturday is coming to soon or not soon enough.

At this point I just really want it to 'be here' already.
The anticipation, for both the good and the scary encounter is making me antsy.

I am not yet completely physically well, but I think I am actually getting a little better.
Everyday(for about a week now) I have been trying to sing scales, just to see what sounds come out of my throat. Many of them are very amusing, I think I sort of sound like one of bendy plastic musical wind-pipe toys that is cracked, and makes all the wrong sounds.

I think I am slowly making some of the right sounds, but in the past few months, I have been through a few cycles where I get a little bit better, but then worse again. I don't know if I am ever going to get better....

Not having a strong voice might be a good thing when I comes to visiting Toby and his family.
I want to be able to resist nervously jabbering on like an idiot, maybe God's way of answering that prayer is to make it I have some difficulty speaking. Not that God would want me to be sick.
I know that He is giving me the strength to still live as I normally do, even though I am not sleeping well because of breathing issues.

The medicine my GP gave me gives me the runs and fierce stomach pains, so I stopped taking it.
I might start again tomorrow, just because maybe the 'side affects' are worth it if I can breathe normally again and speak and maybe even sing normally again.

Not that being able to sing is a matter of great importance in my life.
I just really enjoy singing and the fact that it hurts to try right now kind of is a downer for me.

To tell you the truth, my whole body doesn't seem to like working well.
I have a pain condition, mostly in my shoulders. That just never goes away. Sometimes my shoulders just completely seize up and I literally cannot move my arms anywhere above my elbows.
I have sharp pains on my right side by the rib, if I bend that way, but I don't remember hurting myself. It's probably a pulled muscle. Then there's the matter of my poor coordination, I am always hurting myself, running into, tripping, but rarely actually falling or causing anything other than minor bruises. Recently I have been having swelling and pain in my knuckles, maybe from typing too much, maybe not. I just feel like my whole body refuses to be healthy.

I don't let it stop me from living much, I am usually more productive than many of my completely healthy, pain-free counterparts!! I just deal with pain that I feel in so many different way through prayer and sheer will power. I have too, it's not like anyone is going to give me a free ride, I know I will always have to pay somehow.
That's just life for me.

The last times that I have visited Toby, I have noticed that he might have inherited my lack of coordination, poor kid. I really hope that it's just his age and that he will not inherit things from me that are the bane of my existence. Hopefully if they know my physical problems they can prepare for them, somehow.
I know my physical problems are minor compared to someone who has cancer or is dying from something for real or that doctors actually know for sure something is wrong with them.

My doctor thinks I am making things up, or that aggressive generic drugs(that she probably gives to a hundred other patients with 'just a cold') will do the trick to rid me of all that ails me.

Being in constant pain makes me very impatient!!
I am holding on to the hope that Toby's parents don't even mention their feelings relating to this blog, and that not one person brings it up in any manner.

I would much rather them being talking about their recent adventures and such with being a family, even their jobs or their health or what they had for breakfast!!
Anything but how I have been the most inconsiderate birth mom in history but letting them in on my true thoughts and feelings. They were really much better not knowing how much I regret my choices in life.

I really hope that the bubble wands and the cookies are really good distractions that keep us from having any sort of 'deep conversation' but help us have lots of fun.
Toby should remember visits with me as 'fun', right?? I can only hope...

I know that Toby is living the best life possible, every parent always wants more for their child.
I am no different in that respect, I know am not an actual parent to Toby, nor will I ever be.
I know that as little change as possible is the best idea for most children.
I know that he is well cared for and even loved, although I will always worry about that...

Right now though I am just holdin' on for Saturday!!
(I feel like a kid in a car ride asking 'are we there yet? are we there yet?...dear me!)

Staring down the barrel...

Been meaning to post about my feelings about the fast approaching visit with Toby that's only a week from now.
Can't sleep anyways, and I might not remember that I wanted to get some words 'out' in the morning(well...it is morning technically, but I mean when I wake after a few hours sleep).

I don't feel ready.
I feel like I am waiting to get hit by a freight train and can do nothing to stop it because I the one trying to get in front of it.
Or like a shot-gun in aimed straight at me and I am staring down the barrel just waiting for the bang.
I should feel more excited, and I want to be, still my thoughts always go to the worst case scenario. If I had more time I'd be able to work my mind around more postive themes and idea, but I don't.

I wish I had more time to feel ready, I wish I knew months in advance when a visit with Toby will be so that I can be truly ready and not do anything stupid in the mean time.
Honestly I know that I could never truly feel 'ready' for a visit.
I know I don't show it usually, but it's always completely overwhelming, just the mere sight of Toby in person.

I do believe it's much much different to see someone in person than in a picture.
Although you can get a 'general' idea of how a person looks that way, some details just don't seem to show up on ordinary pictures that are so obvious in person...

Then again, Toby does mostly look like me, and I never really 'look' like my pictures somehow.
(maybe if the made normal pictures in 3D I might really look like myself in them???)

Unfortunately, my stupidity, borne out of my desperate longing for my only son, overtakes me often.
For this reason I feel compelled to write my thoughts, feelings, everything else, for the whole world to read, because I feel like I have nothing else to lose, someone needs to know I care about Toby!!
How am I supposed to know when I will be ignored or paid attention too??

Seems to me like people expect me to know things I can't possibly know much of the time, just a fact of life

I am so desperate most of the time for people to even care, just a little bit, about me.
Not even my GP cares that I have had a cold for much much much too long, that I have strange pains in my body, that a number of things that I won't name are not working all that well in my body.

Seems like some days I could stop existing one day and not a single person's life would be adversely affected. That's how I feel, I am probably wrong, I hope...

I cannot control what will happen at this visit or any visit. That's what makes me feel crazy scared. I think I have a pretty good control over almost everything else in my life. I am usually quite prepared and able to handle things in my daily life. What I am not sure if I can handle is being a birth mom.
Sometimes I wish that it was all a dream, not real at all, but that could never be true.
I will try to be a good as possible, and hope that playing with bubbles(I have decided to bring a gift, maybe cookies too..maybe) will make everyone happy, vain hopes I know,(sigh!!)..;-)

I want to do something to make everything alright again.
Something that will make the relationship I have with Toby's parents better, stronger, somehow...I don't know how at all, but I am trusting in God's mercy that He will make a way for me to redeem myself in their eyes.

I DO want to be there friend, I have since I met them.
I think I need a miracle at this point for that to happen.

Good night! Hope you are all well...

The 'low-down' on 'what's up'

I have to tell you, even though I thought seriously of shutting this whole thing down.
I decided it was to hard to do, and not necessary.

Here's the deal, Toby's parents read this blog, and they were NOT impressed to say the least.
We had a little bit of messaging going on. I cried like mad for days and days, thought I'd ruined everything by openly posting my blog on my FB.

Then I calmed down, Toby's mom messaged that she doesn't really hold it all against me and that she is not interested in reading my thoughts ever again.

I believe her. Plus I am in really really really really good spirits now because she just invited myself and him to visit Toby(and family) in a couple weeks!!

I know that I am not the best writer in the world, but I really like doing this.
I am excited by the thought that people, anywhere in the world might actually read my words.
I want them to, really I do, it's just people I know IRL can't handle my view of things easily.

I am just going to keep on posting here no matter how people who know me IRL feel or say.
Why?? because I remember as a child that a few times I destroyed a journal or two because of something that a family member or friend said after reading it(without my permission mind you!). I don't want to repeat my behavoir as a child. I think I am old enough to have a right to do what I want and not let myself be controlled by the reactions of others to my views.
I hope that that's ok with Toby's parents, maybe they want to control me somehow...

I really hope that this visit is not all awkward and uncomfortable, it will only be for a couple hours(the most that Toby's parents ever allow) but at least it will be close to home(in my city!) so I don't have to go deeper into debt taking a stupid yucky bus for a whole day, just to visit for a few hours.

I am grateful that it will be when the weather is still nice too. One thing I don't want is to be a seasonal visitation person. I have had some of those in my life and my memories of them are sort of 'trapped' in the setting of a certain season. Not that the memories are not good ones.
It's just that I don't want to be defined by a season in Toby's mind, like some of my relatives are.

Toby probably doesn't think about me at all at this point.
I worry about that, am I totally messing him up by interrupting his life with visits??
Does he feel like he's being forced to get to know someone that seems totally unnecessary to him??? Do visits with me only make him feel more 'different' than he wants to be???

I know I can be a very boring person, to kids, and maybe to adults as well, but they bare my presence more easily that young children who just want to go play and be with people they are familiar with. I know that I will never really be a 'familiar' person to Toby.
Not with only one or two visits a year, he will have definitely forgotten the last time we visited completely by now.

I am excited, I hope that everyone has mercy for me for being rude, I seem to have a habit of being rude lately.

I think it's because I am stupidly sick and not really getting better, it's just a cold, but it's really making me crazy because I don't sleep well. I feel like I am sweating waaay wayy to much, my body aches more than usually(I have pain disorder) and I sneeze disgusting glops of slightly bloody snot once or twice a day, lovey eh?

Other than that, I am ok, still working harder than most of my coworkers, playing with my delightful cat, and watching wayy wayy too much television!!

Just thought I'd give you the 'low-down' on 'what's up' in my life...lol!!!

#5 discussion topic

I just can't resist doing a post for another of the 'open adoption round table' prompts.

This ones question asks:

How has open adoption changed you? In what ways are you different because the presence of open adoption in your life?

I'd like to say to the average person who knows me, not much about me has changed.

When I think about my life, the fact that I became a birth mom seems inevitable.
I'm a little bit psychic and I can show you a journal book that sardonically states that if I had the one and only son I ever wanted, I'd probably wouldn't be good enough to be a mom to him even so.

I've always always always had a very negative view of myself as far as I can remember.
As a child I endured some unfortunate things, I had a brain disorder that caused seizures.
(they think it was epilepsy but they could have been wrong).
As well I was born with a bad hip and didn't walk very well till I was almost two!!

Other than the physical things, I have always been the one who kind of got forgotten or taken for granted because I tried so hard to be agreeable(and I do to this day) and just being a 'middle child'.
Especially since my older and younger siblings caused loads of trouble.
Not that I was always perfect, but I just didn't have the strength to be 'bad' most of the time.
I just was really annoying with being opinionated, even at say, 10 years old, I just read to much and think I knew better than everyone what the right thing was, which was an attitude that got me in trouble many times, and still does(old habits die hard)

I have always had a melancholy out look on life as far I can remember at least.
Sort of like I was born with a Eeyore complex.
So the answer the question, has adoption changed that about me???
No, I don't think so, if anything, all my worst qualities of that negative attitudes have been exaggerated by the experience.

Now, there are times where I am usually content when others think I should be quite the opposite.
The biggest thing that has changed me that is related to adoption is that I now know, without a shred of doubt, that my mom loves me.
I know this because I love my son, even if he turns out to be the worlds worst nightmare(which he won't) I will still love him like I did the first time I saw him.

A kind of love that seems to have a life of it's own inside my very being that nothing can change or diminish.
Just having given birth and knowing another person is a part of my very flesh and bone changed me, I guess.

I prefer to believe that everyone becomes what they are.
That a persons identity is what it will always be, right from the moment of conception.
It gives me great hope to know that I am not in control of my ultimate destiny, but my Lord and God is, and he has plans for every moment and second, for my good and His glory.

Yes, I believe there is free will and all that, but I also believe that God's plan is not limited by the choices I made or make, because He is God. I am who God created me to be, I have abilities and qualities that He created in me. I cannot make a new quality or ability in myself, because I am not God, so I cannot change what I am either(only God can). Whatever I find I am able to do, it is because God gave me the strength to do it, I cannot create my own strength. Whatever strength I have do to anything will always have come from God.

I don't think that anything can really change a person, each person has unused qualities and abilities. It might seem like they changed, like they became something else than what they were before. I choose to believe, that even if a person is not actively working out these unused qualities and abilities, they are in that person already, just waiting to be used.
As I see it, I am innately gifted to be a birth mom, just as I am a writer, and a sister and all the other things I am.

I think I would have to ask others if I really 'changed' because I can't tell.
Can you???

Is There Hope For Me???

Right now I am frustrated with myself. My whole self.

I am frustrated that I have had a cold for months. A disgusting condition where I keep sneezing hard clods of snot mixed with blood/and or scabs a couple of times a day.
It doesn't even happen in the same place or time, so it can't be allergies because how could I suddenly be allergic to things I have been around for years??!

I am frustrated that with my heart because I care when I shouldn't care.
I let myself be completely controlled by the fear that people I love will suddenly take everything I care about away if I don't please them.

What do I care about?? Well, I need 'life lines' I need to have contacts with people that are family and people that I have known so long they have become family. Without those people, my life means nothing. Even the ones that have hurt me in the past, even the ones that will hurt me in the future, even the ones that refuse to comprehend the harm they have done to me.
I want them, I need them, and this fear that they might be displeased with me and write me off is frustrating, I want it to leave me, but it doesn't.

I am frustrated that I can't be a better person. I get so tired because I am not well that I become rude, selfish, and stupid. I only realize my actions have been this way after the fact.
They are the small actions that I fret about, forgetting to say thank you to a cashier or a person who holds the door for me. Hearing or reading something truly heart-wrenching and feeling nothing for the person affected by the event. I want to feel something, and I feel terribly guilty for being so callous.

Everything is very wrong with me.
If you saw me now, you would perceive that I seem completely normal, and I am.
I have no intention of being crazy enough to be dangerous to anyone, even myself.
I go along in life with a very very very predictable regularity.
I do not usually socialize. I go to work, I come home. Sometimes before work I go to the store, once a week I go to church before coming home, carrying all actions with the very bare minimum of human interaction. I have a talent for avoiding human interaction. It takes away a lot of the stress I feel about being hideous, inside and out. If I interacted with anyone for long enough to truly show my craziness, then I am afraid I might actually become dangerous.

All the time I am just barely holding myself all together.
Inside I am longing to scream a thousand insults because my soul feels like ice, like rot, like everything I don't want to be. All because life is not fair, but it was never supposed to be, and I know that very very well.

This is one reason I have to stay away from places that may enhance the ugliness inside me.
Places like a pub or a bar, where you are supposed to let your real self loose, I just can't take the chance and do that. If I do, I do so out of pure obligation, and if someone who can keep me accountable is there. Even then, the fear that when I do something rude, something stupid, something that is completely abnormal, then everyone will then know what I freak I am.
Then I will really lose all hope that I can be good.

That is why I only want to go to places that can make me good, like church.
I know it archaic to believe a place can make me a better person, but it's not just the place.
It's the people there, all there to teach me how to be good, how to rid myself of all the evil lurking in my very being.

God is the only reason I can be at all good. My Lord Jesus the Savior that I desperately need everyday just to live a life of honor.
I still have hope, but it is fading...

Calamity Galore

My name should be Calamity.
Seems like way too many things go wrong in such weird ways!!

Yesterday I went out with my mom for dinner at a nice restaurant because she insisted for more than a few days that she wanted to go out for supper and wanted me with her.

We went out, just barely sat down and got some tea and coffee, and the power goes out.
We then watched some dangerous drivers completely disregard the rules of four-way-stop that should have been in affect the moment the power for the traffic lights when out.
No accidents thankfully, but watching near misses from 200 feet away is a little unnerving.

I had a weird feeling that we shouldn't go out, but not even my mom trusts my psychic twinges, go figure. We had an OK supper at a different restaurant.

Then today I wasn't sure what time I worked so I just got ready early to go to work for a possible opening shift and then I call and I am actually scheduled to close.
Meaning that waking up and getting ready early was a complete waste of energy.
I went back to bed for a while. Then got up again and just puttered around the house.

Then I somehow locked myself out of my bedroom and realized that I don't actually have a key to open it. Of course the then freaked out for the better part of an hour tried to jimmy the door with a butter knife. Then I searched the laundry room(it's almost across from my bedroom) for tools to help with my vendetta to open my own room door. Besides, I did need something from inside(my credit cards) and something just wouldn't let me stop trying and give up.

After I had tried everything I just remembered how got into the laundry room once when I accidentally locked it. I sledge hammered the door. I remember when I looked at the place in the door patched with a piece of contact paper that does nearly match the fake wood look of the ply-wood door. My room has a flimsy ply-wood door as well, so I decided to sledge hammer a hand-sized hole in the door because I was beyond reason at that point.
It worked I got into my room, got all I needed too.

Even checked my email. When I did I discovered an email from the animal shelter I adopted my cat Lucy from just a few weeks ago. The email was just a friendly 'how is everything with you cat that you got from us' thing. I emailed them all the wonderful and great fun that I have been having with my cat Lucy. Then later, at work, I realized that I didn't say a word about how I actually feed her and give her water and that she is healthy and well(using the litter box properly).
I just told a great big story about how she plays with nylon yard and likes lighting and purrs alot.

I wonder if that lady who sent me the email will think me a bad pet 'parent' for seemingly not showing examples of the care and attention I DO give to my cat Lucy everyday.
I wonder if she will think I am completely crazy for playing with my cat soo much...???

Anyways, I just feel like I can't really do anything right, and when I try, even if am doing things right, it never looks like I am...

Just yesterday I got a look at some pictures of Toby on FB. Not his mom's FB, his aunties.
This lady has never met me, I don't even think she knows that I visit Toby.
Yet I have access to her FB pictures because Toby was tagged as his mom and his mom is on my list. That means I can then see the whole of any album(that is not secured and apparently adoptive aunties is NOT)that has someone on my list tagged, or that someone on my list commented on.

Sometimes little things like those facts are not obvious to those who do the above actions.
I am glad that I got to sneak a peek at my son once again.
I am just sad/mad/disappointed/confused that his parents don't actually keep their word in showing me through pictures of their own about the things that Toby is doing.

It's always makes me feel jealous when I see other moms posting tons and tons of pictures and Toby's mom maybe posts a couple(or so), here and there of him.
Most of the pictures are still of the natural children.

As I looked through the aunties pictures, first I wondered what she would think that I am looking at her little boy and feeling jealous for Toby's sake that this little boy(the same age as Toby) gets to be with a mom who has the exact same colour of eyes as him and the smile of his dad.
While Toby doesn't have the blessing of looking at a mom who's eyes mirror his own everyday.
Toby doesn't have anywhere near the same physical traits as those around him(except for being human, like them).
I wonder if he realizes that yet.

I know that his parents would try and tell me that he indeed does look like them in some ways, but I am not fooled by there vain hopes. I see how Toby is nothing like them. I see how his mouth is 'thicker' than his mom's. How his eyes are bright and wide, while all the others are slightly slanted and/or closer together and dark.

Looking through the pictures I found some small solace in the fact that he does have an adopted cousin, another who looks nothing like her parents but they want to pretend otherwise.
Maybe knowing her will bring him comfort in knowing another that does not completely 'fit in'.

The feeling that gets me the most is that somehow, I have a feeling that they do not want me to know about Toby's life. The feeling that if I do not nag them for a visit, they will be relieved and assume I am no longer interested, finally. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

To tell you the truth, the more I find that they are limiting what I know about Toby, the more I am determined to know. The more I want to know. If I really received updates like they said they would send me three and a half years ago. If I really received tons of information about Toby all the time, I think then I wouldn't crave knowing about him so much.
I might even get bored of knowing him, naa... unlikely!!!

I hope that Toby's adoptive auntie(mom's SIL) won't be mad at me for copying all the pictures of Toby from her albums...I feel kind of evil about that. I don't want to have to steal, I feel like I have no other choice, I need to have pictures of Toby.
What if I forget what he looks like?? What if he changes so that I can no longer recognize him??

Oh such crazy fears I have......!!!!

musings on reality...

Lately I have been watching a new reality dating show.

What they have been making me think is 'why are looks so important to some?'

I especially wonder why looks are so important to guys.

I mean, if they are following their 'natural instincts' they are looking for someone with whom they desire enough to procreate with.

I know that many guys are not exactly thinking that when they see a women.
My opinion is that, especially if they are not thinking, they are going by what their 'inner animal's' instincts are.

By that standard, the bigger girls should be more desirable.
Just think about what happens when a women gets pregnant, her whole 'tiny waist' disappears!!

So why is having a 'tiny waist' so important, I am sure the guys can't really tell you, I just don't get it.

Why is having a perfect face important?

Look at elderly couples, are any of them really pretty?? NO!!(well, there might be some exceptions...)

Fact is, if a man is looking for perfection, it's not going to last.

I know that some women need to see some perfection, and I might even be a little bit like that sometimes.

Most of the time, personality and how a person treats me is of far more value and appearance.

This show is mostly good.

I mean, the first show a girl rejected a guy because of looks!!
The second show a guy rejected a woman because of her religious beliefs(what else is new?)
For the simple fact that if she raises children, strong convictions are a big asset!
Why can't a guy admire strong convictions when they present themselves??

Is having a woman who will just agree with whatever you want worth more to some guys?

I am glad the 'thicker' girl got a guy, but will it last, who knows...

Still, the theme is usually about looks, or comes back to them again and again.

I mean, I care about simple things like personal hygiene and good posture, but looks don't matter to me that much. Only the attitude that the guy has toward them.

Now, I am not trying to hook up with anyone.
I don't even want to bother.
I have come to understand that most guys won't be able to look pass my bad skin, the 40 extra pounds and the serious religious beliefs I have.

That's another thing, I really don't get why guys are not usually devoted to faith as I am.
I mean, they might go to church and read the bible, even lead prayer groups!!
Sadly though, if you really got to know them you would find out that almost every single one of them masturbates to porn on a regular basis(and that I find thoroughly revolting!!)
How would I know this?? I don't, I am just assuming from my experience that this might be common.

Anyways, I am just venting here about the stupidity of the human race.
Why prefer a women with a 'tiny waist' when what really matters is her ability to bare good children(and that takes a lot of strength and smarts, etc...truly!!)

Why give in to things that only rob the ability to enjoy the real deal?

I know I just rather be alone than with someone who would want me to deny me the 'real deal' just because they are too lazy to know that it is better that the fake stuff.

The moment that started it all...

OK, so there's another prompt for the open adoption discussion but I am not sure that I can really find something good to say about it all.

When I read 'small moments' the first thing that popped into my head was the moment I found out I was pregnant and I prayed.
When I prayed almost out of nowhere I remembered a good friend who placed her third daughter in open adoption(she is a single parent to the two other girls).

In that moment I thought about how simple it all seemed for her, how it seemed to work out nicely for everyone.

I had no idea that there would be any hard feelings, and if there were, I was sure I could handle them. After all, I have grown up in a dysfunctional family, had many good friends die, I even handled the death of my Dad pretty well considering. I figured I could handle something that would be good for everyone involved.

This was a moment that happened long long before Toby's actual adoption took place and long before I ever met his parents.

In my mind though, it's what made his open adoption possible.
The fact that I was convinced, by the example of my friend, that doing this would be easy and really really good for everyone involved.

That moment of remembering her, after praying a fearful prayer when I learned I was pregnant was an answer to prayer.

I asked God 'what should I do?' and then I thought of her. That moment stayed with me throughout my whole pregnancy.

I was always sure it was the answer. I think that I viewed all options with that in mind.

If God put the image of this lovely women, who seems to be doing very very well, who made a decision to give her daughter different parents, nothing could make me go against it.

Not my own emotions and desires, not the pleas of others to consider parenting, nothing changed my mind because of this moment that I thought of my friend.

Although now I think she may be a little off her rocker because of the church plant she might still attend and the fact that she left her husband for a man much younger than her.
Even her daughters think she's a little crazy(maybe it's all the cats...)

I attended her church plant once about two years ago.
I tried to tell her about why I choose to place Toby because I admired her decision and the way she handled it.(at the time my thoughts on adoption were nothing but good)
She seemed to think that my decision should have had nothing to do with her.
She's probably right, I did make a decision based on the facts of my life at the time, but I realize now that I did it with the thought of her in the back of my mind.

There are some moments in this open adoption experience that have been positive,many negative, but they are all a blur most of the time.
Only that moment that I prayed and thought of this lovely women who portrayed to me that open adoption was not only possible, but easy.

How looks can be deceiving...

MEET LUCY!!

I got to do something really great yesterday.

My mom and I adopted a CAT!!!

Now, it does make me miss my poor Louie who was my first ever cat that died of kidney failure.

I am really really glad that I now have a new cat to love!!

Getting her yesterday was really kind of happenstance.

My mom had been saying for weeks that she wanted to donate the bird cage of our old budgie that died over a month ago(she was a very old bird). She said that she would need my help carrying it and wanted to go when we both had a day off(we both work shift-work jobs)

Anyways, my mom had also been saying while we were there she would be OK with adopting a cat if we went together. So when she asked if I wanted to go yesterday, I jumped at the chance even though I was(and have)not been feeling the best(might be food poisoning).

Cats are in very plentiful supply there and adopting one is not only something that benefits our lives but the place that it comes from.

All in all it's a generous and selfish act. Generous because we want to provide a good home for a needy creature, selfish because we feel the need for a pet.

The cat I decided on getting when we finally got there(annoyingly hard to find) is a beautiful little black girl who's only two years old and only 4 kg.

She is just the sweetest thing, very very friendly. She is content to just stay in your lap as long as you scratch her neck and back.

Her name, according to her adoption records, is Goof, but I am changing that to Lucy.

Seriously, who names an animal a term like that???

I am very happy to be a co-owner with my mom of this wonderful creature!!

If there were no limits to what I could do...

I want to tell you what I tend to think and imagine when I let my mind truly wander.

I think about home decor and what it would be like to live completely independent from main stream life.

Many times, when I visit someones house for the first time I have trouble paying attention to what they are saying because I am thinking something like 'oohhh, that's a really nice floor!!!'.

Most people might notice something like that and just go on to be able to really be more drawn to the people, but not me.
I want to be more drawn to the people I am spending time with it's just that because I don't usually get to enjoy the sight of excellent flooring or tasteful decor I become completely entranced by it all. I try to focus on the people, my mind doesn't let me do it completely though. I usually more drawn to the physical attributes of places that are truly creative and modern.
Lately 'modern' means natural looking, repeating patterns found in nature, which are especially lovely in my opinion.

The places I usually spend most of my time are not exactly tasteful or modern or creative, neither do they reflect a true sense of nature.
I don't realize this till I do see something that is all these good things.
I think it's because I am used to them, then, when I see something new, a colour of paint, a type of flooring, a house with a layout I have not seen before, I have to stare at it a while to believe what my eyes are seeing.

I often imagine, if I had no limits, what kind of house could I build??? I'd want one of whose completely eco-friendly houses that are made from only the materials of the land that it's on and use only solar and wind power. I think I would get as many wind turbines as possible, so I could live completely "off the grid"

I've had many 'visions' about how I would want a house of my own design to look.
Today I was thinking about how for years and years pioneers build houses out of the dirt.
I wish I could do that. Of course I'd have it done much better than the pioneers did it, and bigger of course.

Not too big, just big enough for me, like a studio apartment in the middle of nowhere, slightly build into the ground with a hatch as a door and a tunnel.
With that 'heated flooring' that looks like natural stones(brown and red and sandy and yellow...etc) and a solar panelled sky-light for a ceiling. Surrounded by a big wild looking garden so no one could know it was even there.
That's my dream, to live completely free and independent.

I wonder how much food I would need to live five years or more without needing anymore.
A thousand jumbo boxes of cereal??? Of pasta??? Of coffee???or peanut butter???..etc
I wonder if I could grow all my own food and maybe have a chicken(for eggs) and a cow(for milk).

Some part of me has always wanted to be able to dis-connect with the world around me completely, or just be free from my dependence on modern conveniences.

I wonder if I could really create a perfect physical oasis just for me, in the form of a house and a garden, what would it really take to make it, and what would it really look like??

Right now, this is just all in my imagination, where it will probably stay because I can rarely create anything I imagine, not with words, not with anything I have to use.
I wish I could, but I just can't, it's really fun to imagine it all though..

Ideas for Lifebook

For quite some time I have been thinking about making a Life book for Toby.

I try to read as much about adult adopted(usually from closed adoptions) persons as I can and found that usually the same questions are asked again and again.
My goal in making a Life book is to answer those questions in a pretty, sensible, practical way.

I think it would be good for Toby to be able to take a little scrapbook to school for show-and-tell someday, or just have it close by to look at whenever he pleased or whatever.

I haven't made it yet, but I have all that I think I need, stacks and stack of pictures(and more on discs if they need to be re-printed) a nice scrapbook(it says 'once upon a time' on the front and 'happily ever after' on the back in gold and it's a nice old fashioned brown colour) and pretty papers(they are gold and ivory and brown and pattern gold).
I don't have all the fancy tools that some people I know have, I am hoping I could borrow if I just got up the courage to ask. (such as cutters and special glue)

The questions I want to answer for Toby, before he asks are:

Who are my birth(first)parents?

To do this I plan to make pages for myself and him each.
Two pages for both of us will just have each a picture of myself and him with little bios(50-100 words?)
I will make a couple pages for about my family. One page with three or four family photos, and another page with just my dad picture as a memorial of his passing(March 28,2001)

I will let him decide how he wants his family pages to look and then tell or even help(if he wants to..)

Who do I look like?

For this I will have a picture of Toby in the middle of a page with pictures of a variety of family members(hopefully from both him and myself) surrounding Toby's picture with possibly some small descriptions. I am thinking of making it look like a flower, with Toby in the middle and all the birth-relatives that look like him(myself and him , my niece, my uncle...etc) as the 'petals'.

Why was I adopted?

For this I will make a page with picture of myself and him(the only picture of us together is one on a city bus, but I think it 'fits') along with a description of our relationships journey(including a mention about our struggles with financial and personal needs).
I think I should possibly make the story into a booklet that tucks into a pocket in the page beside, because it's a probably going be too long a story to fit on just one page.(200-300 words?)

Then I will make a page with some pictures of myself pregnant, the ones that are decent. Then two or more pages of the day he was born(mostly of all the people who held him) with parts of my real personal journal that describe that day. I may even create a pocket to put the letters I wrote to him during my pregnancy.

I also want to do a page or two with all the 'visit' pictures. This is so that he knows that I do care and I came to see him as often as was possible.
I am thinking of creating extra 'pocket' paper frames for pictures of future visits.

I don't know how to phrase this kind of question, but I find many adopted persons wonder if their birth(first)parents care about them. I think the fact that I visited him before he could even remember I was there will show him that I do care very much.

Also a page of the adoptive family photos. Then a page or two of his newborn-baby-to-currant age pictures. I haven't decided whether to use just the professional pictures or the snapshots or both.

It would be really really nice if I could end the book with a picture of all of us(myself, him, Toby, adoptive parents)
Part of me wants to do a 'then and now' thing with the picture taken of all of us with Toby when he was one day old and then a picture of us all in the same way now.

I am figuring all this out now, I haven't actually done anything yet.
I think that I should wait to do it till just before Toby goes to school.
I believe that when he goes to school for the first time he will need to know who he really is(if he doesn't already) and be able to have something that proves it all.

I am just putting it all here in my blog so that I can get possible feedback and also be able to go back and refresh myself on my own ideas. I could write them with pen and paper, but I have just gotten to lazy for that...oh dear!!

P.S. I counted... should be about 17-24 pages...too much??? the book I have is only 20 pages...

Never ending...

Lately I have been thinking about relationships and how they never really 'end' they just continue in different ways.

I have been frustrated lately with the idea that just because certain relationships don't work out, then I must be obligated to either hate or be completely dis-interested in the person(s) and their life.

I just can't do that. I just can't stop caring for people even when they admit they have a hard time caring about me.

I just can't completely become stone-hearted towards anything that goes right or wrong in their lives just because they hurt me.

Forgiving is just easier to do and means that I am free to care about them.

It's just way way too hard to have ill feelings toward someone,(even if that person caused a turn of event that caused me suffering) when I see that they too are suffering from a painful turn in events. I'd rather show mercy because I know that most of the time, the people that caused me harm didn't mean too(and even if they did, something in me desires to show more mercy because something must be really wrong with that person then!!). I do many things that likely hurt and offend people. Sometimes simply caring about a person who has hurt me offends others who care about me. I hurt them by paying equal attention to them and the person who has hurt me!!

Why is it so popular to hold grudges and be glad for bad things happening to certain people who disappointed or hurt us?
Why am I not supposed to be interested in the well-being of people I really care about?
Why am I not supposed to care about people who hurt me or don't care about me the way I care about them.
I have tried to distance myself before from certain people whom people who care about me think I should not have anything to do with, that I should pretend they don't exist.
I just can't though, stop caring that is...
I don't want too.
Do YOU want me too???

Good Faith

I have been thinking about the idea of 'good faith'

Mostly because my friend Kyla's husband told me something interesting about Texas.
Where they have been living for a few years now(but they are from my city originally). I got to visit with them just this past Monday.

Anyways, apparently you can go to Texas with a Canadian drivers license and just exchange it for a Texas version in 'good faith'. No test or anything, but if you want to go to another state with that Texas license, you have to re-take all the tests and whatnot.

For a while now something about the way people ask me simple questions has bugged me and I am coming to realize it's because they don't take me in 'good faith'.
I am finding that many many people just are not willing to believe the facts of my life.
It's the only reason that I can figure for why they keep asking me the same questions or why they act like they didn't know some things that I have told them over and over.

For example, when I go to church, I like to keep to myself. It helps me think and remember and really experience just the general beauty of the place and it's purpose.
I keep to myself so well that I can easily avoid people by where I choose to sit and when I come(early) and when I leave(the moment the benediction is done).

I have told people that I know at church exactly where I sit and about this coming early and leaving 'early'(because many people just hang around for a good hour after the service). Still they act like just because they haven't seen me, well...I must not have been there!

Why can't they assume in 'good faith' that I have been there, every week, just as they have!

I work in a retail store and one of my frustrations is when people ask a question, I answer it, and they just refuse to believe me!! I tell them an obvious truth and they just act like I called them stupid for stating something they don't want to hear.

In general, the facts that I tell people over and over again just don't seem to 'stick'.
People don't want to believe that I haven't learned how to drive, because driving is something they take for granted. People don't want to believe that my Dad died, because they can't imagine not having one. People don't want to believe that I am different from them because they just really really don't want to acknowledge that they themselves are unique and different.

People want to blend in to the 'normal' they don't want to stand out because that would be social suicide.
Well, I have done social suicide over and over again and I am still OK.
Being accepted is not worth the price of denying who I really am.

I just want people to take the truth that I don't really care about being 'socially' acceptable because I know that I am a good person, saved by God's grace, but a good person.

I am just like you and nothing like you and I live honestly.
Trust me, please, take me in 'good faith' that I care deeply about every person in my family and many many others. Likely just like you. Believe me, remember the simple things.

Is that too much to ask???

I promise I'll take you in good faith, I'll remember the simple things about you, I'll try as hard as I can.
Heck, I even take Toby's parents in good faith that they love him and will include me in their lives, eventually. I am at peace with waiting for when they are ready for me.

I think that would be a stretch for many people to do if they were in my same place.

If I can do that, for them, you can do this for me.