Here we are at the beginning of a new year. Every year marks change and every year I grow - for this I am grateful. If I spend some time in retrospect of 2013, I am awed at the path my life continues to take and the blessings I've been given. In some ways, I am no where close to where I thought I'd be in life, yet in other ways, this is exactly where I'd always dreamed I'd be.
I am now the parent to 2, count 'em, 2 teenagers!
Wy Guy is 15 and starting to drive. He still loves football and is working hard on living up to his coaches request to gain weight. (My grocery bill's the proof!) He continues to mature and be a witty, charismatic kid who is fun to be around... for the most part!
Sis is 13 and trying to find her own path, out from under her big brother's shadow. It can be a struggle, but she continues to shine with her determination and her LOVE for being DIFFERENT. Wear thigh-high socks for basketball, yes please. Geek out on classic Shakespeare and not One Direction, she's all that. Gotta love that girl's ability to blaze her own path.
Beebo lights up my life. That kid can make you laugh without even trying! He's smart and crazy imaginative. He's 9, but just an 1.5 inches shy of 5 feet and grows faster than any kid I've seen. He has found a love for basketball. Ever a momma's boy and I'm going to eat that up for as long as he lets me.
Mr. S & I hit the big 16 years in 2013. Hard to believe I met this man more than 22 years ago! To celebrate, we completed our foster parenting licensure. We've been prayerfully considering this for a year, done the classes, completed the paperwork, did our home study, and finally pulled the trigger. Our hearts just told us we've been given this big home and even bigger love and so we need to share it some more. The kids are totally on board. We re-arranged some bedrooms and now officially have an empty bedroom, decorated and just waiting. It's like being pregnant, only you have no idea of your due date or what you are expecting! A phone call could come at any minute... literally, any minute.
So, welcome 2014... let's see what you've got. You don't scare me... much. :-)
Monday, January 20, 2014
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Sigh
I have spent so much time fighting with insurance lately. Boy, is it exhausting, frustrating, and disappointing! Don't get me wrong, we're definitely blessed to have insurance coverage. But when you pay your premiums and co-insurances without fail and then the insurance carrier finds a "loophole" and denies coverage, it's enough to drive you batty!
Since June 21, we've been through appeals with medical and dental insurance for the extraction of Beebs' impacted tooth. Here's the kicker... dental insurance will cover the procedure if:
Since June 21, we've been through appeals with medical and dental insurance for the extraction of Beebs' impacted tooth. Here's the kicker... dental insurance will cover the procedure if:
- it's a wisdom tooth ~ same procedure, different tooth number
- it's done in a hospital ~ our surgeon prefers to do it in a surgical suite because it's cheaper and now that we've been through appeals, they will not allow us to re-submit with hospital coding
- it's done without anesthesia ~ the tooth is fully encased in the jaw and will require going through the bone to even get to the tooth and he's 9... no anesthesia, really?
Medical insurance says it's a dental procedure so they've denied all 3 of our appeals, even though our policy clearly states that dental procedures are covered if they are the result of a congenital defect (which his IS).
We've gone around and around. We've gone back and forth. I've made countless phone calls. I've involved benefits managers and doctors. I've sent scads of documentation, including CT scans and notes from 4 different docs including his craniofacial doctor in Iowa. After EVERY phone call, I've been assured that if I just send "x" document with "x" code, it should be fine and EVERY time it's denied.
Now, after pushing back all of his treatment by 4 months during this maddening dance, we have exhausted all options and will be paying for it on our own. Months lost and we are exactly where we started.
Sigh.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
If time passes between posts...
It's not because I don't want to post, but I'm busy building cathedrals...
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’
Obviously not; no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??
Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I’m a satellite guide to answer, ‘What number is the Disney Channel?’ I’m a car to order, ‘Right around 5:30, please.’
Some days I’m a crystal ball; ‘Where’s my other sock? Where’s my phone?, What’s for dinner?’
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going, she’s going, and she’s gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: ‘With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.’
In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, ‘Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it And the workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was Almost as if I heard God whispering to me, ‘I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.
No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I’d built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he’d say, ‘You’re gonna love it there…’
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.
—Anonymous
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’
Obviously not; no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??
Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I’m a satellite guide to answer, ‘What number is the Disney Channel?’ I’m a car to order, ‘Right around 5:30, please.’
Some days I’m a crystal ball; ‘Where’s my other sock? Where’s my phone?, What’s for dinner?’
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going, she’s going, and she’s gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: ‘With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.’
In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, ‘Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it And the workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was Almost as if I heard God whispering to me, ‘I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.
No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I’d built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he’d say, ‘You’re gonna love it there…’
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.
—Anonymous
Friday, July 12, 2013
The end of an adventure
Here's the final, week 8 comparison picture between our broiler birds and our newest laying hens.
Slaughtering took a lot more time than we anticipated (26 birds took about 6 hours), but we finally got a little assembly line system going. We estimate all of the birds gave us anywhere from 5.5-7.5 pounds each. We were even able to give the chicken feet a home (apparently they're a delicacy in China and a co-worker was ecstatic to take them all off our hands... evening preparing them and sending a few back for us to try!). I'm slow cooking up the bones to make chicken stock. The only parts we didn't use were the heads and the feathers, so I'm very happy with that. And, since we know exactly what they ate and how they were raised, I'm going out on a limb to say mine are better than organic+!
This was a pretty cool experience, but was a LOT more work than I anticipated. I think specifically because Mr. was gone for a few weeks and cleaning, feeding, and watering multiple times per day fell solely to me. Will I do it again... hmmm... ask me after I've eaten a few of these and the memories of the poo and flies fades.
Slaughtering took a lot more time than we anticipated (26 birds took about 6 hours), but we finally got a little assembly line system going. We estimate all of the birds gave us anywhere from 5.5-7.5 pounds each. We were even able to give the chicken feet a home (apparently they're a delicacy in China and a co-worker was ecstatic to take them all off our hands... evening preparing them and sending a few back for us to try!). I'm slow cooking up the bones to make chicken stock. The only parts we didn't use were the heads and the feathers, so I'm very happy with that. And, since we know exactly what they ate and how they were raised, I'm going out on a limb to say mine are better than organic+!
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| Before we parted most of them up and froze them. |
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| My poor refrigerator was bursting! |
This was a pretty cool experience, but was a LOT more work than I anticipated. I think specifically because Mr. was gone for a few weeks and cleaning, feeding, and watering multiple times per day fell solely to me. Will I do it again... hmmm... ask me after I've eaten a few of these and the memories of the poo and flies fades.
Friday, June 28, 2013
mmm... chicken.
So, it's been 6 weeks since my graceful fall. I limped along for a few weeks and just this past week am finally NOT limping, bending my knee, and have actually gone up stairs without pain (coming down is still not quite perfect yet!). I did end up getting a CT scan done when the leg got to this point:
It just showed severe soft tissue damage and the treatment was a brace and stay off of it (apparently I have a post in my foot that prevents me from having an MRI done... who knew?!?). Staying off of it... yeah, I'll get right on that.
Meanwhile, my broilers came (along with 3 Plymouth Barred Rock girls to add to my egg layers) and it is truly indescribable how fast they grow, how much they eat, and how much they stink! I have experience with chickens, but these are really franken-chickens... meant to be used solely for their meat. They aren't pumped full of nastiness or any chemicals, just selectively bred to grow big, really fast. And, they are going to be completely organic (because I pretty much know everything they are eating and drinking and doing all day long!), so that's an exciting thought. However, they aren't pretty. They don't have good personalities. They aren't anything like "my girls". It's pretty easy to not get attached to them. We've got 2 weeks left 'til d-day...
Now, excuse me while I go find the perfect wing sauce recipe!
It just showed severe soft tissue damage and the treatment was a brace and stay off of it (apparently I have a post in my foot that prevents me from having an MRI done... who knew?!?). Staying off of it... yeah, I'll get right on that.
Meanwhile, my broilers came (along with 3 Plymouth Barred Rock girls to add to my egg layers) and it is truly indescribable how fast they grow, how much they eat, and how much they stink! I have experience with chickens, but these are really franken-chickens... meant to be used solely for their meat. They aren't pumped full of nastiness or any chemicals, just selectively bred to grow big, really fast. And, they are going to be completely organic (because I pretty much know everything they are eating and drinking and doing all day long!), so that's an exciting thought. However, they aren't pretty. They don't have good personalities. They aren't anything like "my girls". It's pretty easy to not get attached to them. We've got 2 weeks left 'til d-day...
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| 2 weeks old. L: Barred Rock / R: Broiler |
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| 4 weeks old. |
 |
| 6 weeks old. |
Now, excuse me while I go find the perfect wing sauce recipe!
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Graceful
Believe it or not, I was a dancer. I took 11 years of dance lessons and was in competition Dance Troupe during high school. That does not, however, translate to grace apparently.
In the midst of talking, tossing my son's athletic support to my husband (hey, he was chafing after 4 back to back tournament games in hot weather!), wearing flip flops, and walking up bleachers at a baseball game, I bit it. Not a "oh, whoops, that-was-embarrassing" kind of slip but an "all-of-my-weight-just-landed-on-my-knee-slammed-against-the-bleacher-and-my-leg-looks-and-feels-broken" kind of fall. Yes, this is what my parent's investment in years of dance training landed me over the weekend:
So, of course the doctor wants an MRI of my MCL. I asked her if I could have one more week to see if it gets any better and she begrudgingly obliged. I am holding out hope that it gets better! She put me on an aspirin regimen to keep the blood flowing and keep any clots from forming. In the meantime, I'll just be a little gimpy... but hey, at least the money they spent on braces worked out okay!
In the midst of talking, tossing my son's athletic support to my husband (hey, he was chafing after 4 back to back tournament games in hot weather!), wearing flip flops, and walking up bleachers at a baseball game, I bit it. Not a "oh, whoops, that-was-embarrassing" kind of slip but an "all-of-my-weight-just-landed-on-my-knee-slammed-against-the-bleacher-and-my-leg-looks-and-feels-broken" kind of fall. Yes, this is what my parent's investment in years of dance training landed me over the weekend:
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| Day 1: kind of swollen and sore, but over not too bad |
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| Day 2: uh, oh - not sure my knee is supposed to be that size... and I think it should bend, right? |
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| Day 3: more swelling and the bruising begins... more pain and having trouble with range of motion |
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| And, a lovely shade of purple on my thigh... I blame it on massive amounts of soft tissue located there :) |
 |
| Day 4: broke down and went to the doctor because of more discoloration/mottling, persistent pain & swelling (albiet better) and blood pooling in my foot/ankle |
So, of course the doctor wants an MRI of my MCL. I asked her if I could have one more week to see if it gets any better and she begrudgingly obliged. I am holding out hope that it gets better! She put me on an aspirin regimen to keep the blood flowing and keep any clots from forming. In the meantime, I'll just be a little gimpy... but hey, at least the money they spent on braces worked out okay!
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