A Whole New Katie!

Contemplating the big change.

Katie has been growing her hair out forever.  Ever since . . .

The Unfortunate Homemade Marshmallow Incident of Christmas 2010

. . .when Katie got a patch of her hair ripped from her skull after getting it caught in the Kitchenaid mixer, Katie has been hesitant to have us touch her hair.  She's gotten a trim here or there, but mostly Katie has been content to let her hair grow and grow and grow.  But it has just gotten too long.  Katie has super fine hair like me, but it also has a bit of a wave to it, and more often than not it just ends up as a huge nest of a mess when she awakes each day.  Add to that an abnormally sensitive scalp and a tendency to wait until the absolute last second to try and brush it out . . . well, let's just say that more than a few tears have been shed while Katie gets ready for school each day.  I knew that something had to change, so we decided to cut it a lot shorter to help it become a bit more manageable.  I was planning on having them cut it to about shoulder length, but with Katie's hair as long as it was I knew that there was an opportunity to donate her hair to Locks of Love.  Check it out.  It is an amazing program where disadvantaged youth who have hair loss due to medical treatments (most generally cancer) are able to receive a wig made of donated hair.  Katie needed to have ten inches available to donate.  She had the ten inches, but her hair would have to be cut a bit above her natural hairline.  That was going to be a significant change for my long haired beauty.  Would she be willing to part with her long loved hair?  We would see.

Before the cut.  Katie said she was ready to do it.  No concerns at all.

Okay.  Maybe a few concerns.  She loved her long hair!

As Bernie, Hairstylist Extraordinaire, started the shampoo, Katie's nerves started racing.  Katie does this thing where she blinks her eyes over and over and over whenever she is trying not to cry, and during the shampoo her eyes were blinking like mad.  Bernie and I kept repeating that Katie did not have to do this if she didn't want to.  Bernie was not going to cut anything off unless she was absolutely sure that Katie wanted it to be cut.  Katie kept assuring me that she was okay.  As the rinse was completed Katie said, "Mom I am 125% sure!"

So off came the hair! 

Bernie spent a long time styling Katie's new shorter do, and it looked super cute.  It made her look so much older, and I was amazed to see just how thick her hair was.  And adorable!  Hopefully it will be much easier to take care of.

Here is Katie outside the salon holding her newly cut hair.

The bundle of hair looks like a dead ferret.

And here's the new do.  This angle doesn't show just how cute the whole cut is, but trust me, it's lovely!

So overall it was a very positive experience for Katie.  No tears.  Big smiles.  A cute new hairdo and the satisfaction of doing a little something to help someone in need.  A great way to spend a Thursday afternoon!  

But If Not . . .

I have no good pictures of me teaching.  I'm always the one taking pictures.  But here's one of me (and Chris!)
at 5:50 am before the rest of the seminary students start arriving.

Do you ever suffer from disappointment with yourself due to high expectations that you set for yourself?  You know, those times when you feel so strongly that you need to perform at a certain level, but only find that you feel as if you are flailing about, trying to make things work, and failing miserably?  Those moments when you know that there is so much that you can give, but when you see that your best isn't working?  Well, I have those moments constantly when I struggle to get all that is in my head or in my heart out there to share, but it just doesn't flow.  And today was one of those days for me.  But all is not lost.  I think that I actually had one of those teachable moments meant for me, not for my students (although I sure hope that they walked away having learned something as well).  And every once in a while as a seminary teacher, I imagine that I'm allowed to have one of those days.

Cedara and Lilli studying hard

For those who don't know what in the world I'm talking about, seminary is a program in our church where high school students come together each day to study the scriptures.  In areas where there are a ton of members they can take this as a regular school class as they are released for the hour to attend the class in a nearby seminary building, but in an area like ours where there are fewer members the students come to meet before school begins each day.  That means that my class meets every single school day at 6 am.  6 am!  That is quite an accomplishment for a busy high school student to get themselves up and ready for the day at that hour.  And yet my class does it, all while still attending school full time, participating in extra-curricular activities, and sometimes having jobs on the side.  It is an amazing thing to see them dedicate themselves to doing this, usually with a smile on their faces.

I try to do my best to make things worthwhile for them.  I try to be very prepared and give them a lesson that will mean something to them.  I hope that everyday each of them will come away with a stronger conviction that they CAN choose the right that day, even in the face of overwhelming opposition at times.  I'm not the most knowledgeable teacher or the most dynamic or the most talented, but I come forth each day giving it my all, hoping that the Lord can make up the rest.

Well, today we studied the amazingly amazing story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and the fiery furnace found in Daniel, Chapter 3 of the Old Testament.

These guys?  Not exactly.
But sort of.

What an amazing story!  (I know . . . I'm saying amazing too much.  But I've been up since 4:45 am.  Cut me some slack.)  Just put yourself in their situation.  Everyone in the kingdom gathers, and all of them are commanded to bow down and worship this ginormous statue erected by King Nebuchadnezzar.  If they don't then they will be thrown into a fiery furnace because laws back then were no joke.  You followed them or else.  Shadrach, Meschach, and Abednego knew that they had been commanded not to worship images like this, so they had a choice to make.  Do they just follow the huge crowd, blend in, and bow down, maybe just saying, "Well, we'll bow down and make all the motions, but we won't really mean it."? Or do they stand for their convictions and probably end up being punished unto death by the king?  What would I do in that situation?  I can't even imagine.  We talk about the dangers of peer pressure a lot, but this is pressure to the extreme.  But anyway, after making the choice to defy the order of the king, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are brought before the king to explain their actions.  The king restates his command and gives them one last chance to follow along.

Now, here is the part of the lesson that really, REALLY touched me as I prepared.  They stand up before the king and say:

If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king.
But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up. (Daniel 3: 17-18)

Powerful.  But the part of that response that means the most to me is this "BUT IF NOT."  These three men (boys really) had great faith, and they believed that their god could save them from the fires of the furnace,  BUT even if He chose not to save them, they would still make the same choice and do what was right.  It might cost them their lives, but they were willing to stand strong in opposition to the powerful.  This really made me think about my choices in life.  We so often do things that are right with the expectation that life will be easier, things will run smoother, we will be happier, and we will be protected in our hours of need.  That is generally the case.  But, what if things in our life are still difficult?  What if our life doesn't go smoothly, even though we are choosing to make good decisions in our life?  Do we continue to make good decisions, or do we simply give up and say that it doesn't matter?  Do we simply have faith that all will be well, but at the same time be absolutely willing to make the exact same choices even if it isn't?

Tyler and Daniel

Well, these questions really struck me as I was reading the story in preparation for teaching today.  I pondered on my own situation and the choices that I am asked to make every day.  Could I have the courage to stand behind my convictions, even if I am alone in that choice, and even if there was a possibility that life could be difficult after making that choice?  Could I do it?  The answer:  I really, really hope so.  I think I would.  But I don't know.  I guess I just have to continue to make good choices in the small matters so that I will be ready for the big matters that will come eventually.  That was my answer for me.

I started class today feeling all of the emotion of my preparation yesterday.  I felt like this was such an important lesson.  It was an awesome story -- a story of courage and triumph over adversity -- the best sort of stories from the scriptures.  I really wanted my lesson to do this story the justice it deserved.

And then the lesson began.  How did it go?  Well . . . I felt off.  Just off.  I can't explain it.  It just didn't feel right.  I had all of this info in my head and in my heart, and it wasn't coming out of my mouth.  What was wrong with me?  This was a great story.  It shouldn't be that hard to inspire enthusiasm as I taught it.  But it just fell flat.  I started to get frustrated with myself -- in my head.  I don't think anyone in class noticed it.  I was just having this constant internal dialogue with myself asking myself what I could do differently.  Come on.  Doesn't everyone have those conversations inside their head once in a while?  Luckily I stop myself from verbalizing my dialogue outwardly . . . most of the time.  So, I'm having this discussion with myself trying to figure out how to help this lesson hit home a bit more.

Laney

I had just given the group the assignment to take verses seventeen and eighteen and put them into their own words so that they could have a better understanding of exactly what these guys were saying to the king.  While they worked together on this I walked out of the classroom and hid myself in the little nook that leads to the stake president's office, and I said a mighty little prayer.  I asked Heavenly Father to please, please, please, please help me deliver the message of this lesson.  I wanted it to be a lesson that would have an impact on these students who are not facing the possibility of death in a fiery furnace each day but who are facing social consequences that at times might seem just as daunting to them when they choose to do what is right.  I didn't want for my lack of skill to be the thing that kept them from learning these important lessons.  I needed some help -- a lot of help.  And I wasn't above begging for it today.

I re-entered the room, confident that my prayers were going to be answered.  They had to be, right?  I continued to teach the lesson.  I thought that there was some amazing discussion with excellent comments from several people in the class.  And yet, I just didn't feel like I taught this lesson the way that I needed to teach it.  Class ended, and I think everyone was happy with how it had gone.  But not me.  I was a bit disappointed in myself.  I've had some moments in my church life when I have felt that feeling that comes after you know you hit it out of the ballpark when you are teaching a lesson.  I don't mean this in a prideful sort of way.  I just mean that you know that you said exactly what you were meant to say.  It wasn't perfect, but you got the job done.  I have yet to have that feeling with seminary.  Every single day I leave class thinking of the ten thousand things I could have done better.  I think of the phrases I use and how I could  have said things differently.  I think about how I forgot to involve the class more in the discussion, or how I didn't ask the right follow-up questions.  I am hard on myself, but only because I feel like I have such an important role to play in the lives of these high school students who are in the process of making choices that will affect their futures.  I want to be all that they need me to be.

Rylie, Adrienne, and Thomas

Well, after class I talked to Herman on the phone.  He is on his way to north Missouri to do come consulting for a school district there, so he wasn't home when I arrived.  I told him how the lesson had gone and how disappointed I was with how I had taught the lesson.  I told him how I left the class half-way through because I felt like I needed to reboot and do something differently.  Herman is such an amazing gift to me in this calling because he has such an impressive knowledge of good teaching practices, and he has taught seminary when things went great and when things went terribly.  He understands.  And more importantly, he understands me enough to know when you use my dissatisfaction with my teaching to inspire me to improve and do better, and when to tell me that I was doing just fine and not to berate myself for every little mistake.

As Herman talked to me today he asked me about my experience saying the little prayer in the middle of class.  He asked me if I felt like the lesson went any better after the prayer.  I replied that I didn't feel all that much different during the second half of the lesson.  It wasn't a bad lesson.  It just wasn't what I hoped it could be.  At that point Herman said, "Well, maybe that was your 'but if not' moment.  The moment when you came to the Lord, asked for His assistance, but went back into the class, knowing that you would continue to teach even if things didn't go according to plan."  Maybe that was right.  Okay.  I wasn't going to face a potential date with a fiery furnace, but I was heading in to face fifteen high school students who might be entirely dependent on me teaching something that could carry them through any trials they might face.  And I chose to continue to teach, having faith that something we discussed would make a difference.  So I taught.  It may not have been exactly the lesson that I hoped to teach in my head, but at the end of the day I have to have a bit of faith that it would end up being the lesson that someone needed to hear.

I wish that when I taught seminary I could see a visual representation of what is going on in class.  I wish that everyone could come into class with their little oil lamps needing a bit of oil.  I wish that I could see those little lamps fill with oil as each student gained something from the lesson.  I think I'm making a difference.  But I'm not totally sure.  I don't see the changes that maybe their families and friends might see.  I wish I could know that all of the preparation I make, the lack of sleep, the mental beatings I give myself after each lesson as I work to improve a little each time, and all of the time sacrificed to come to class every single day would be something that would make a noticeable difference in each seminary student's life.  I wish that everyone will look back on this time in their life and be able to say, "Thank goodness that I could come to seminary each day."  I wish that twenty years from now I would get little notes sent by these students saying, "Sister Blau, you made a difference in my life."

But if not . . .

I'd still do it over and over again.  I love my seminary class, and I love teaching seminary!

Thomas, Todd, Rylie, Tyler, and Michael

What Exactly Is a "Mormon" Prom?

Lilli, Adrienne, Laney, and Cedara -- Aren't they beautiful?

This is about a week later than I meant to post, but life gets crazy sometimes, and I couldn't get to it.  Unfortunately that will prevent me from saying all that was in my heart the day after this dance, but I'll get the gist of things, I think.

Last week I drove a group of youth from our area to Columbia to attend a Mormon prom.  A Mormon prom?  What is that exactly?  Lots of people have asked me what this is and why we hold a separate prom from the traditional school sponsored prom.  Based on some of the facebook comments that were posted on my daughter's wall it seemed as if some people believed that this was some sort of better choice that she made to attend this dance rather than a school dance.  That is not exactly true.  Many of the youth who attended this dance will also be attending their school proms later this spring.  It is not true that as a church we discourage our youth from attending their school proms.  We love to encourage our youth to meet together often in social settings outside of regular church meetings, and this dance is a fun opportunity to get dressed up and experience all the fun of prom without some of the bad that can come with it in other settings.  There are some differences between the two types of proms.  There is a dress standard for our youth.  The girls have to wear dresses that are modest -- not too short, not too revealing, with sleeves on the dresses.  This is no easy task for our young women.  Have you gone prom dress shopping lately?  Laney chose to re-wear the dress she wore last year, but I can say that as we shopped for dresses last year we could easily dismiss 90% of the dresses for not meeting our modesty standards.  With a nice addition Laney was able to finally find a beautiful dress that worked for her, but her choices had been very limited.  A lot of youth have good luck looking online, but no matter what, our young women have to go to a bit more work than the average girl when hunting for the right prom dress.  Did it affect how beautiful our young women looked that night?  No!!  They were absolutely gorgeous, all of the ladies from the four or five stakes who attended.  And it wasn't like every girl was wearing the exactly same sort of dress.  Each girl was still able to find something that suited their particular style.  Lovely!

One thing that I really appreciated about this prom was that most people who attended did not bring a date.  I don't have any problem with people bringing dates to prom.  Laney attended prom last year with a very sweet young man, and it was an enjoyable evening for her.  But when someone comes with a date it kind of ties them down for the evening.  With so many people attending without dates it allowed people to dance a lot with all sort of different people.  I realize I was a horribly awkward young person, but I have to say that as I attended dances as a young person I was always desperate for a date because I thought that that would be the only way that I could ever dance . . . ever.  So as I attended these dances, almost always dateless, I would spend my night sitting on the periphery of the room, gazing longingly at all the other people who were out dancing.  I LOVE to dance . . . so much . . . but I would never get out there and do it.  I felt like I had to have a date to do that.  At these dances a ton of people dance.  Laney never sits out a dance.  If a young man doesn't ask her to dance, then Laney goes over and asks someone to dance.  And Laney is not unusual in this.  Everyone does this.  It gives them so many more opportunities to mingle with others that they might not meet otherwise.  And it is way more fun than hanging out on the sideline watching the action pass us by.  In fact I was so proud of the youth from the St. Robert area.  They would always find ways to be out there dancing most of the time.  That wasn't true of everyone.  Our youth know how to get out there and enjoy themselves.

I totally played a stalker parent during the dance.  Everyone just looked so beautiful, and I had to get pictures to remember things.  As I took pictures of everyone I was always checking on Laney.  Someday far, far in the future I'm sure that she will be able to bear testimony that she is the patient woman that she has become because she has had to deal with such a mother.  So ahead of that day, Laney, let me just say . . . You're Welcome!  I can't help it.  She is so much better of a young woman than I ever was.  It kind of amazes me.  I love to watch her in action.

Laney and Thomas

A nice young man from the Nauvoo area (I think)
 who was a bit shy to ask her to dance,
but they got along wonderfully

One of the things that I noticed about Laney as I observed/stalked her -- Laney has an amazing gift of being able to bring out the personalities of those who are a little bit more reserved.  She just looks at these young men straight in the eye as she is dancing with them, letting them know that she is completely involved in listening to the things they are saying.  I still can't do that when I talk to people.   If I had a young man who was shy or a bit nervous about asking a girl to dance for the first time, I would want for Laney to be that girl who dances with him.  She is just so confident.  I'm not sure if Laney realizes just how rare of a quality that is.  She isn't the only young woman who can do this.  I love seeing several young women in our area who do the same thing as they dance.  It's refreshing to see a dance where the couples who are dancing actually TALK to one another during the dance.  

This picture actually was one that Laney staged for my benefit.  The dance had been going on for awhile when a group of cadets from Missouri Military Academy walked in.  They were all decked out in their military uniforms, and they looked SHARP.  So impressive.  They really stood out.  As soon as I saw them I ran over to Laney and said that she had to dance with one of them.  So she did.  Nice young man, I think.  It was just fun to see Laney dancing with a boy in uniform.  So, thanks for that, Laney!

Another group who made a big impression with their entrance was a group of Samoan youth from the Independence area.  They seemed so much fun, with tons of energy.  Here is a great picture of Cedara dancing with this handsome young man -- who is not related to her (yea!).

Even the leaders got to dance once in a while!

There are lots of fun and exciting things about a regular school prom.  Laney's not attending her school prom this year because she is not officially a student.  But next year if she wants to I'll have no issue with her attending the Waynesville prom.  But the nice thing about this dance was that she was absolutely certain that she would be attending a dance where everyone would be respecting her standards.  The music would be good music.  The dancing would be good dancing.  The conversation would be good conversation.  The dresses would be modest.  It was a place where Laney felt as if she could be herself.  As a mom it was so nice to see so many youth having a great time without compromising any of their standards.  I couldn't stop smiling all night as I watched our youth having fun and getting to know new people.  I wish I had the opportunity to go to these sorts of dances when I was a young weirdo.  Tons of fun!

Chris and McKenzie in probably my favorite picture of the night

On Grapefruit Slices and Hershey Bars

I've never had a migraine headache before.  At least I don't think so.  And judging by the descriptions that my friends have given of the experience I'm almost sure that I never have.  In fact, when I think of migraines my first thought is always of my college roommate who had them every once in a while.  I would always find her lying on her bed in our totally dark dorm room.  She would explain that she was having a monster migraine.  I would think in my head that it was just like any ordinary headache, and I would go about my business just as I would normally.  Thinking back, I'm sure that must have annoyed her to no end because she was probably in an enormous amount of pain.  I should have chosen to grab my things and go hang out in the library or something, but instead I turned on the lights and banged around the room much too loudly.  Oh how much I sometimes wish I could go back and have a redo on moments like that in my life!

So, anyway, I don't think that I've had a migraine before, but yesterday may have come close to what the experience might be like.  I had a late Friday night/Saturday morning.  I drove Laney and three other youth from church up to Columbia for the Priest/Laurel Mormon prom.  What is a Mormon Prom?  I'll explain that in a post later today.  But basically it is pretty much like a regular prom.  It was great fun for me as well as the youth, but I ended up getting home very early Saturday morning.  In the Blau household the world doesn't pause simply because Mom got to bed late.  No.  I was woken up bright and early by several bundles of energy, and there was no going back.  This isn't unusual for me.  I am generally a night owl who can sometimes find myself sitting up alone in the wee hours of the morning if I am engrossed in a particularly awesome book that I can't put down.  I am used to waking up with little sleep at times -- not as much as it used to be when I was younger, but still fairly often.  

Generally when I have a night with little sleep I suffer a bit of a sleep deprivation headache.  If I'm not feeling too stubborn I'll take a Tylenol and maybe have a little nap, and then I'll feel a thousand times better.  The day is saved!  But yesterday my experience was different.  While I was lying in bed I felt just fine -- maybe a little listless, but overall fairly good.  It was Saturday, and when we can the Blau family tries to have Saturdays be VERY low key and laid back.  We take our time getting out of bed and getting started with the day because it is the only day that we have that luxury during the week.  Yesterday was no different, but we couldn't stay in bed all day.  There were activities all over the place we needed to get to, so eventually I had to get out of bed and start living.  Still it was later when I did.

Herman had already left the house to attend auxiliary training at the church.  Spencer had a band competition in Jeff City and needed to be dropped off at the school.  Laney was gone cleaning Nandy's house for her, so I was the designated driver for the morning.  As soon as I hopped out of bed I noticed that I felt weird -- just off.  I couldn't really explain how I felt.  I didn't feel sick.  I didn't feel sleep deprived.  I just felt off.  I didn't bother getting dressed.  I just pulled my fingers through my crazy morning hair, threw on some flip flops and drove him to the school in my jammies.  (Don't judge me!)  We got to the school just fine, but as I was driving home I started to feel queasy and a bit dizzy.  My eyesight even blurred a bit.  I thought that I needed to pull over, but just as quickly as I felt the feeling it was over.  I continued the short trip back to our house and made it alive and well.

But I was not well.  I could tell that a monster headache was coming my way, and this headache was unlike anything that I had ever had before.  My vision was wonky.  I felt queasy and dizzy anytime I stood up to attempt anything.  I just needed to sit down a moment.  Normally I am extremely stubborn when it comes to taking medication.  I think that's hereditary.  I will wait until I am in extreme pain before I ever take something for it.  That drives Herman crazy, I think.  But things were bad yesterday so I grabbed some meds right away.  It took a little while, but they did help, and I was able to get up and get some things done. 

Herman and I headed to Rolla in the afternoon to watch Savannah compete in the district academic bowl competition.  I had never seen one before, and Herman said that they were a lot of fun to watch, so we drove to see Savannah's last competition of the year.  (BTW -- Waynesville lost in the semi-final round, and Savannah placed fifth individually.)  In the middle of the competition I noticed that I started to feel a bit dizzy again, but I was sitting down, so everything was okay.  As we were driving home it started getting worse, so Herman had me open up his glove box to discover that he carries an entire pharmacy with him whenever he travels.  I picked the appropriate drug for the problem and hoped for a quick recovery.

The recovery didn't come all that quickly.  As soon as I arrived back home I headed straight for bed.  I wasn't sick enough to sleep or even so sick that I needed to avoid outside stimuli of any sort.  But I was sick enough that I couldn't really get up and do much of anything yesterday evening.  Herman was wonderful.  He entertained the kids.  He cleaned up the house.  He kept coming in to check on me.  He asked me if I needed anything like a soda or some grapefruit slices.  (I love to buy the refrigerated jars of Del Monte grapefruit slices that are found in many grocery produce sections.  It's one of my little treats to myself.)  I didn't need anything at all, but I appreciated him asking.  I did ask him for a blessing because I felt like this illness (or whatever it was) needed a bit of divine intervention.  He gave me a lovely blessing and then left me to myself again.

At one point in the evening the kids were taking showers, getting ready for bed.  JoJo was using the shower in the master bath and decided that this night he needed help getting the soap rinsed out of his hair.  I didn't feel like I could help out today for fear of toppling into the shower with dizziness, so I sent Katie to find Herman to see if he could help.  Katie looked everywhere and said that Dad was nowhere to be found.  That was weird.  He usually lets us know if he steps out for anything.  But I wasn't too worried.  Help for JoJo was eventually rounded up, and he survived his shower for the night.  

A few minutes later Katie came into the room bringing bounty.  She was holding three things in her arms: 

A Spoon.

A GIANT Hershey's Special Dark Bar.

And Del Monte Grapefruit Slices!

I just couldn't stop staring at them.  Herman knows that I love chocolate.  Okay, I don't just love chocolate. I'm obsessed with chocolate.  I'm addicted to chocolate -- okay, not really, or that would be wrong.  But I do like it very much.  Very, very much.  There are few problems in my life that can't be cured with a healthy dose of chocolate!  Herman didn't just get me a regular old chocolate bar.  He got me a GIANT bar.  Heaven!  And Herman didn't just get me a regular sized jar of grapefruit slices.  He got me a super sized jar with 10 (10!) whole grapefruits inside.  The world will never know what a sacrifice this must have been for Herman.  He has always hated it when I buy these canned grapefruit slices because it would make so much more sense to just buy a grapefruit and peel it myself.  It would certainly be cheaper.  So for him to spring for the biggest jar on the shelf when a small cup of grapefruit slices would have been sufficient was such a token of his feelings for me.  I just can't explain it adequately with words.  Why won't my words let me say this right????  Herman had left the house and made a special trip to the grocery store just to get these things for me.

Well, I couldn't help it.  I started to cry.  Maybe I'm just suffering from a deluge of make-me-cry hormones. Maybe one of the symptoms of this crazy illness is an overabundance of emotion for the smallest little events in life.  I don't know.  But at that moment I was just full of emotion, overwhelmed with gratitude for such a husband.  He wouldn't be perfect for everyone, but he is perfect for me.  I don't know what sort of bargain I entered into in the pre-existence to warrant the blessing of him in my life, but I'm sure glad for whatever it was.  I mean, he got me the extra large jar of grapefruit slices!!!!!!  EXTRA LARGE.  That's just epic.  

It isn't during the way fun and easy going moments of our marriage that I recognize the good match we make as a couple.  Well, I do notice that during those times.  We go well together.  I don't think there are many other people out in the world who could handle my idiosyncrasies, and I am sure that there are very few who could handle Herman's.  So I am happy to have him.  But it is during those times of illness and sadness and difficulties that I really recognize the strength of our relationship.  We don't run away from the bad stuff.  We face it . . . together.  We are both okay on our own I guess, but together we are a FORTRESS.  Bring it on!  

So as I sat on my bed and looked at my giant Hershey bar and my extra large jar of grapefruit slices I was moved to tears thinking of the kindness that those items represented.  I had to pull myself up and drag my dizzy little body into the living room so that I could say thank you.  That may have been the most thoughtful gift I have gotten in a very long time.  I like my diamonds, and I like my pearls, and I even like the Kitchenaid mixer, but it is this now empty (Again, don't judge me!) jar of grapefruit slices and almost empty (I'm saving some for later!) wrapper of chocolate that truly shows me the devotion my sweet eternal companion has for me.  He got these for me when I didn't really need it all that much.  I certainly would have never asked him to make a special trip to Wal-mart to pick them up.  But he simply did it because.  Just because.  And those are the best sorts of gifts I can ever receive.  

I heard this song on Pandora this morning, and I loved it.  It made me think of Herman somehow.  I don't know why.  But here it is.  I love the lyrics and the message.

Now We're Getting Somewhere -- Sort Of . . .

Our little Miss Minsy has had a busy week.  This is a week we have been waiting for ever since we got home from China -- the week we would finally be able to decide what to do about her age.  For those of you out of the loop -- Minsy was assigned a birthday by her orphanage in China because she was a bit older when she was abandoned.  They estimated that she was around 14 months old after checking the number of teeth she had and some developmental milestones.  For that story about Minsy you can re-read my earlier post HERE.  They gave her the arbitrary birthday of September 1, 2007 which would make her four and a half years old.  We went to China expecting to pick up a four year old girl who was smaller than the average four year old American, but we ended up finding an adorable little girl who was closer in size to a two year old.  Even with China's smaller norms in sizes, she was extremely small for her age.

So then the debate in our family began.  Was she really four years old?  If so, was she developmentally where she needed to be?  With foreign adoption we expected to find some developmental delay, but was this delay because of the normal and natural consequences of life in Chinese foster care, or was this delay because she really was much younger than her records led us to believe?  Should we keep her age the same, or should we assign her another arbitrary birth date?  These were somewhat daunting decisions to make because we didn't want to choose something too old or too young.

We decided to wait until we had an appointment with a pediatric endocrinologist in Springfield.  He would be considering whether we needed to be giving Minsy growth hormones to help her make up some height while she was young.  We figured that he would be able to help us to figure out of she was just extremely small or just younger than we thought.

It was with high hopes that Laney and I jumped in the van and brought Laney to her appointment last Wednesday.  I knew from the very beginning that this was not going to be any ordinary doctors appointment because when we arrived the office was completely empty.  Only us.  You don't normally find that condition in an average doctor's office.  Normally the waiting room is fairly packed with patients.  It was obvious that Dr. Schwartz was going to take his time with us and do a thorough exam.  I did appreciate that, especially with our crazy situation, but I have to point out that the reason he can do that as a doctor is because he charges an arm and a leg for his services, and therefore he doesn't need to see as many patients.

He was thorough.  The visit was over an hour long, and Dr. Schwartz did one of the most detailed exam I have ever seen on a child.  He checked every inch of her body, taking measurements, making observations, and asking me about ten thousand questions about what I had observed and understood about Minsy from her China records.  In the course of his exam he found that she had a significant heart murmur.  He tried to explain it to me.  At first I didn't worry at all because Spencer had a heart murmur when he was born, and we found out that most of those murmurs close on their own, so we only needed to monitor the situation.  We did, and the murmur disappeared within a few months.  I expected the same would be true for Minsy.  Dr. Schwartz said that hers appeared to be a bit more serious than that, so he referred us to immediately go and see a pediatric cardiologist that day to get an echocardiogram.  That freaked me out a bit.  I wasn't anticipating any trouble with her heart.

I was very interested in figuring out what age we needed to use for Minsy.  Dr. Schwartz was not terribly helpful in that.  He said that it would take some more observation and study before he could say what age she might be.  He didn't want to start any hormone treatment until he had a better idea about that, and he wouldn't probably consider that for another year or so.  For now he advised us not to change her age since we would only be guessing.  He said that if anyone asked how old she was we should just say, "It's none of your business.  Leave me alone!"  For now he wanted for us to treat her as if she is four and a half.  When it is time to think about her entering kindergarten we should consider her developmental readiness rather than any age that she may have reached.  That makes sense.  It really does.  But it still leaves me questioning exactly how old my little girl may be.  Hopefully during the coming year we'll be able to determine this a little better.

Well, the visit with Dr. Schwartz ended, but we weren't done for the day.  After he explained that he would mail us a record of his findings during the visit within a week, only calling if he found something wrong, we headed straight to another clinic to get an x-ray of Minsy's chest and wrist.  The chest x-ray was to double check and make sure that she didn't have tuberculosis since her test in China had been borderline, and tuberculosis could contribute to her stunted growth.  The wrist x-ray was to see if he could see an indication of her age through her bones since the cartilage and bone growth in the hands shows a person's age in some ways (although this would be skewed with something like malnutrition that we suspect with Minsy's early years).

After the x-rays we headed to the physical therapy clinic to pick up Minsy's new shoes and elastic strap that would help her correct the alignment of her feet and toes.  This was a fairly quick visit.  Unfortunately the shoes they had ordered were too big, so we needed to wait a week for those to be sent to us, but she did get her elastic straps.  It's funny, but they are just simple elastic, but they make such a huge difference in her feet alignment.  It is an elastic belt that goes around her waist, and then elastic straps wrap around her leg and hook under the laces of her shoes.  The tension in these straps pulls her feet around so that they point straight out instead of inward.  It looks a bit weird, but it works.  Today her shoes came finally.  They are kind of cute in an old fashioned kind of way.  They look like old fashioned baby boots.  They are extremely rigid, so they don't bend with the foot when Minsy walks.  This has been a bit hard for her to get used to, but she's learning to manage.

Here is Minsy after she got her new shoes today!
Doesn't she look happy?

Here she is modeling the new shoes and her tension bands

After our physical therapy session we headed right over to the cardiologist's office for her echocardiogram.  This was another office with few patients in the waiting room.  But there were a few little kids there.  Just looking at them made me feel as if Minsy wasn't too bad off with her heart problems.  So many of the kids in this office had blue lips and fingers because of poor circulation due to their heart problems.  One little boy even had blue arms because his heart was so weak.  I haven't noticed anything even close to this with Minsy, so my guess was that we would find that her heart wasn't too bad off.  Still we did the test.  After waiting in the waiting room for fifteen minutes a nurse came out and told us to go on home without seeing the cardiologist at all.  He had looked at the test results and didn't see any glaring problem that required that we rush to the hospital or anything like that.  He would do a thorough reading of the test and let Dr. Schwartz know his findings.  Then Dr. Schwartz would let us know.  Here it is a week later, and we still don't know anything from the cardiologist.  I'm going to just believe that this is because Minsy is in no danger in this regard.  Hopefully I'll find that this is the case when we get some solid results.

The worst part of the day came right after this visit.  I forgot that I needed to take Minsy to the lab for some blood work.  We headed back to the clinic and got right in.  Minsy hated this part of her day.  Luckily she had an excellent lab guy, and he did an amazing job getting her vein poked right away. But (holy cow!) they had to take a bunch of blood.  They just kept filling tube after tube after tube.  I wondered how this would affect a little girl like Minsy.  I noticed the lab request from Dr. Schwartz, and he must have requested a thousand  tests.  I'm glad for his thoroughness, but I hope that he doesn't need to do so many tests each time we come to see him.

So tiny, but so cute!

I was planning on doing some shopping while we were in Springfield, but I was emotionally wiped out after all our doctor hopping that day, so I headed straight home.  I had only sat down for a few minutes when the phone rang.  I saw that it was Dr. Schwartz, and my heart immediately dropped into my feet since he had said that he would only call if he found something very wrong in the results.  But I sucked it up and answered the phone.  It wasn't as bad as I expected.  First of all he told me that he looked at the x-rays, and it showed that Minsy has the bone structure of a 2 1/2 to 3 year old.  This doesn't necessarily mean that she is that age, but it does give us a good starting point to compare as we watch her in the coming months and years.  The reason Dr. Schwartz called was because Minsy had a significant Vitamin D deficiency, and he wanted to start treating that with over the counter supplements right away.  This would affect her bone development and ability for her body to absorb calcium.  So we made a plan to deal with that.  Everything else would be stuff that we would continue to test and monitor throughout the coming years.  So, not terrible news, thank goodness.  But it wasn't news that brought us any closer to figuring out how to treat her small stature.  Bummer!

My Disturbing Realization

Atop the Great Wall of China
I'm an incurable romantic.
For my kids . . . it gets a little old to hear about it.

I admit it.  I'm a romantic.  I love a Happily Ever After story.  I love the giddiness and untamed optimism of first love.  I love the deep and everlasting love that comes after a couple has lived through the triumphs and challenges of everyday life.  I love the feeling of total comfort that love allows when a couple can be perfectly content to just sit in each other's arms silently doing nothing spectacular at all.  Simply existing.  I love it when a couple is so in love that they can anticipate each other's needs and feelings before any words have to be spoken.  I love to read romantic stories.  I love to watch romantic movies.  I love to hear about romantic life stories from my friends and acquaintances.  I love it all.  Love isn't perfect, but it can certainly be awesome.

I feel like I am living in my very own fairy tale.  I'm the ugly, awkward duckling of a princess who found my perfect prince, and somehow ended up feeling like a beautiful swan of a princess.  I just pulled out my old journals that I kept while I was dating Herman nineteen years ago, and I still get giddy reading about how fun and exciting our early dating experiences were.  We are always telling our kids that they don't have to plan these super extravagant dates -- just something simple and fun -- but Herman and I sure had some fantastic and fun dates when we first got to know each other.  Our dates have certainly got a lot more boring through the years, but our friendship and love for one another has gotten deeper and more enduring.

But me as a dater is not what this entry is about.  This about me as a mother of daters.  Well, right now I only have one dater and one soon-to-be dater.  But they are just going to keep coming every few years for the next thirteen years, so I'd better learn how to figure this whole thing out.  

Yesterday I was watching the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice for about the ten thousandth time.  (Like I say, I'm a romantic).  I have always thought that I was a lot like Elizabeth Bennet -- you know, witty and smart (at least in my head or on paper -- I'm too shy to say those witty things out loud).  Whenever I see the movie or read the book I think that I relate the most to her as a character.

Jennifer Ehle as Elizabeth Bennet

Well, yesterday as I watched the mini-series I had a sudden realization.  I am way more like her mother, Mrs. Bennet.  Oh no!  That couldn't possibly be true.  She is such a busy body and totally over involved in concern for her children's relationships and future life.  I was struck with horror that that thought could even enter my head.  There was no possible way that I could relate to Mrs. Bennet at all.  And yet . . . the more I thought about it, the more I realized that at some point in my life I have switched from the witty, engaging young Elizabeth Bennet into her overbearing, loud mother.  

Alison Steadman as Mrs. Bennet

 I have to include one/two excellent Mrs. Bennet scenes from the 1995 Pride and Prejudice to illustrate what sort of mother she was to her five daughters.  I absolutely love these scenes when Mr. Bingley comes to visit the family and then eventually returns in order to propose to Jane.  Classic Mrs. Bennet!  The beginning of the video is awesome, and my favorite scene begins at the 5:30 point.  Enjoy!

Okay.  So I am NOT completely obsessed with getting my daughters married.  Not at all.  I don't even want to get them boyfriends.  Not at all.  So I'm not like Mrs. Bennet in that regard.  But here is what I am obsessed with:  I know that my children are getting closer and closer to a time when they will be making important decisions about their futures.  Part of those choices will involve the person who they will eventually marry.  I'm not talking about decisions that will take place in the next year or two.  They still have a bit of time.  But it is probably less time than they anticipate.  I was married to Herman when I was twenty-one.  Twenty-one!  Laney will be that age in four SHORT years!  That seems insanely young to me now, but at the time I felt perfectly ready to make such an important eternal decision.  It worked out just wonderfully for me, but I am totally concerned about my children.  I so want to make sure that they get these choices right.  Ultimately I won't have any say in this choice -- and that is a good thing.  We are not living in the age where parents arrange marriages for their children, thank goodness.  So I only have one real opportunity to play a part in this big decision for my children.  Right now I make sure and take the time to talk to my children as often as I can (too often in their opinion) about the ideal qualities in an eternal companion.  We don't talk about these qualities simply in general terms (you know, saying things like 'I hope to marry a man who is kind').  Although we do make those sort of statements  once in a while, I instead tend to point out specific young men and talk about specific qualities that those young men possess.  It isn't that we are sitting around and judging the young men of the world.  It would play out like this:  Laney, notice Joe Friday over there.  See how nice he treats his mother. What about that young man?  See how he sits and talks to the widows sitting next to his family at church.  Don't you think that that is a great quality in a young man?  So anyway, those are the sort of things I do all the time.  I know that Laney thinks that I am trying to set her up with every good quality young man on the planet.  But I'm not really doing this.  I already talked about our dating philosophy in this post.  But the gist of it is that we want for our kids to have a lot of dating experiences so that they can really start to realize the types of people who they click with and prepare themselves to make these eternal commitments eventually.

But even recognizing all my dating philosophizing, I still have to admit that I do get absolutely giddy thinking about my kids (and at this moment, my girls)  going through this process of dating and courtship in the next several years.  I am excited to hear about their experiences as they go through all of this.  The fun of first love should be almost as exciting for me as it will be for my kids.  I love to hear about all of the dates that Laney goes on.  Even though none of these dates are leading to anything serious or long term, it is still fun to hear about her just going out and having fun with her friends.  I love to see young men treating Laney with kindness and respect. 

I always thought that I would be a cool cat of a mom when it came to my kids dating, but as I watched Pride and Prejudice last night I really did begin to see that I am more in line with Mrs. Bennet, trying to orchestrate things behind the scenes.  When I noticed this I shared my thoughts with Herman and Laney, and Laney didn't even bat an eye.  She said, "Yeah, Mom.  That's exactly what you're like."  Really?  I didn't think I was that bad.  Laney didn't stop there.  She went on to say that she was like my own little SIM character who I could manipulate as I lived my life through her.  

I think I'll make Laney into the yoga girl on the right. :o)

She was saying all of this joking good-heartedly, without any malice.  I think she just kind of rolls her eyes at her parents' behavior regarding her dating.  From my giddy excitement about every single detail to her father's willingness to drive her all over the country (seriously, he just drove her out to Utah for a date) if a righteous young man takes the time to ask her to go on a date (most probably wouldn't ask her because, seriously, who expects a parent to drive their children across the country for dates?), Laney has gotten used to parental enthusiasm in this department.  

So say a little sigh for my poor children and what they have to deal with when it comes to dating in our household.  It is probably good that Laney is planning on heading out west to go to college.  Otherwise I would be a mess of a parent when she started college dating.  Poor Laney is our practice specimen in this regard as well.  We'll probably be very laid back by the time JoJo and Minsy get to dating age.

So I admit again . . . I'm a romantic.  I think that deep down my girls are as well.  They just would never admit it to me at all because it might set me off on one of my eloquent speeches about the joys of first love or another heartfelt kiss with my sweetie, and I think my poor kids have heard and seen enough of that for a lifetime.  Now I guess in the meantime it's time for me to continue reading the next romantic novel in my collection.  Ahhhhhhhh . . . young love!