Nate’s Notes: Singing in The Rain

Posted on February 19, 2014 by Amanda

Ever since I was a baby, when the sky starts leaking a lot, we get to go outside and dance in the water. I guess I was a baby the last time it leaked, ‘cuz Momma and Daddy say it has been a long time. Well, I was worried now that baby Lyla is here to stay that she’d ruin everything. I worried that we wouldn’t get to go outside this time because she cries so much about anything. She cries when I take my toys away from her, when I try to sit on her, when the dogs bark, when you don’t give her food fast enough, when I push her, and when you tell her ‘no’. Well, THIS time, I was wrong.

I was so wrong! Not only did Lyla not cry, but when the water hit her face, she laughed and did a happy squirm! I guess she’s not THAT bad. “Lyla like the watew!” I joyfully announced to Momma. “Yes Nate, Lyla DOES like the rain! Actually she LOVES it, just like you!”, she answered back. That’s right, I forgot. This water is called rain!

So for a few minutes we danced and jumped and sang in the rain. We smiled at the sky, at the rain, at each other. I was so happy, I didn’t even mind that the camera was along again. (Actually, it seems stuck to Momma’s hand.) We laughed. We laughed so hard I had to pee…which made me dance funny. Oh well, at least I looked like Momma then when she dances. Hmmm…I wonder if she has to pee? Anyway…

It has “JUMP IN ME” written all over it!

The BEST BEST part was finding puddles. Now I’m not sure which one I like better: mud or puddles! Both splash…both are gooky…both are fun! Lyla actually made it all better. She may not have mad skills like me yet, but she CAN splash and make a mess. The more the messier, the merrier! And so we smiled and laughed at each other all over again, singing and splashing and dancing.

That night, after a massive clean-up effort, I fell asleep smiling about the day. The puddles. The mud. The rain. The happy faces. The singing. Best. Day. Ever.

TMG Philosophy: Stronger In Waiting- Part 3

Posted on February 17, 2014 by Amanda

It was September 11, 2011. Chad and I had just finished a 24-hour local Relay for Life event. Drained and raw with emotion, we arrived home only to be bombarded with all the special programs to remember and honor those lives lost and forever changed 10 years earlier on September 11^th. By evening we were saturated with emotions: from Relay, from evocative 9/11 shows, and from the fost-adopt process we had set in motion. I always considered it strange that I could remember everything about the day with absolute clarity, and yet can’t usually remember what I was about to say. A few more months of waiting, and I would know why.

While we were waiting for that emotionally charged day to end, a baby boy we didn’t yet know was fighting to be born, struggling to feel loved, waiting to meet us. Waiting to heal us.

The next two months were a whirlwind of home study meetings, social worker visits, anxious dreams, more paperwork…and more waiting. They were all at once the fastest months of my life, and the slowest months. The quiet times that came found me questioning if this was right. Not whether this was right for us, but if we were right for this. Could we actually welcome a child into our home and give love from our scared and aching hearts without the assurance of being able to adopt? We were ready to be a forever family, and not strong enough to be a helping family. We were ready to grow and to give. The very real possibility that we would take a step in that direction only to have it taken from us often left me frozen and crying with fear. “Wait and see”, was the phrase we so often heard.

While we worked through the process, waited to hear of any potential match, that baby boy grew stronger and stronger waiting for us.

In early November, on a rainy, Friday morning full of the most hope I had felt in years, we arrived at the agency offices. Here, we would preview all the available children for fostering and fost-adopt in the county and state. After hours of reading about these children, babies and teens alike, we once again felt that heavy saturation of emotions. The stories crushed our hearts, chipped away at our resolve. Did we really have the strength to help these children? Did we have enough love to heal this pain?

We left with a heaviness that was made lighter only by the possible matches we held in our hands. Chad drove, and I stared at the pictures and words on the pages in my hands. Which one? How do we know? Do we wait some more? The phone rang.

One phone call. One phone call started answering what ten years of pain, ten years of waiting were for. As I listened to the words from our social worker, the tears came. I waited until she was done talking…and cried some more. With very little information about a 7-week old baby boy, we agreed to a disclosure meeting, and waited three of the longest days of our lives.

Because so much of the fost-adopt process is about matching and chemistry, we knew that the two social workers we met at the meeting were scoping us out for compatibility. We knew each question was carefully asked to “test” us, with the baby’s best interest in mind. We waited to hear we were not a good match. We waited to be asked to leave. We waited while they told us about the baby’s sad beginnings. We waited while they warned us of the risks associated with the case. We read court reports and waited for the next question. As we held hands under the table, we answered the questions and waited for more of the story. We waited to hear his name: Nathaniel. We waited to see his picture, although by the end of the meeting when they showed it to us, we already knew our answer was yes.

Yes. And so we waited two more days to meet him, two more days for time to bring us together.

Stronger In Waiting- Part 1

Stronger In Waiting- Part 2

Nate’s Notes: Flutterbies

Posted on February 12, 2014 by Amanda

It’s possible I talk A LOT. It’s also possible I talk A LOT about disliking the car rides, the massive camera carrying and picture taking, the embarrassing Momma-in-public-with-the-camera moments, and the long days. Even though it’s no secret I protest these things… I still think it is pretty cool to be able to see all that I do. I haven’t been alive that many years and already traveling is a super big part of my life. Not just vacations. I’m talking day trips and field adventures too! Yes, Momma actually has me calling them adventures. Last month we went to really cool place with fast roller rides and animals!

Some of my favorite animals were there: an elephant (who was taking a bath- a BATH!), giraffes, and really big kitty cats who just looked like they wanted to snuggle! They made really good eye contact to, those big kitty cats. Hmmm…

Anyway, the best part was meeting the flutterbies. We got to go in their house! Someone needs to tell them to turn the fireplace down because it was warm warm warm! And it was all plants and no chairs or toys. Strange. Anyway, they are so little that we had to stand still and just look for them. Seriously, they asked ME, a toddler with very little self control, to stand still. After a few loud moments, I caught sight of a flutterby just near us. That made me stop. So I just watched.

Momma had a goofy grin, and Daddy was watching me, no doubt to make sure I didn’t move or talk. Hasn’t he ever heard of having a little faith??!! I looked back at the floating flutterby and waited. Actually, what were we waiting for? I still don’t know. As I started to make a dash for the door and more animals, I saw not just one flutterby, but another and another…and so many flutterbies! They were everywhere, floating and flying to us like they were gonna say hi.

Flutterby, flutterby, floating by!

One DID say hi! She landed on my hand! Please remember how hard it is for me to stand still. Not only did I have to now stand still, but I wasn’t allowed to grab the pretty little flutterby. I was almost itching I wanted to grab her so badly and take her home. A new toy! She eventually flew away to go play with her friends. Even after she left me, I just stood still. Amazing. This definitely goes down on my list of best adventures.

RSWL: Punctuation

Posted on February 10, 2014 by Amanda

Maybe it’s because of Facebook postings or tweets that I read; maybe it’s because I am a punctuation stickler (not to be confused with a grammar snob) sometimes; maybe it’s from editing many newsletters and student writings; or maybe it’s because punctuation saves lives. Whichever it may be, I felt prompted to choose punctuation as today’s Random Stuff We Like entry.

Though the following statements don’t necessarily apply to me whole-heartedly, they definitely resonated with me…enough so that I thought I’d share them from a book I am rereading.

“It’s tough being a stickler for punctuation these days. One almost dare not get up in the mornings…Part of one’s despair, of course, is that the world cares nothing for the little shocks endured by a sensitive stickler. While we look in horror at a badly punctuated sign, the world carries on around us, blind to our plight. We are like the little boy in The Sixth Sense who can see dead people, except that we can see dead punctuation.” -Lynne Truss, author of Eats, Shoots & Leaves

You think I exaggerate when I talk of dead punctuation and saving lives. Ah ha! (said with the tone that indicates I have proof.) Consider what Lynne Truss shares:

“A panda walks into a café. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and fires two shots in the air.

“Why?” asks the confused waiter, as the panda makes towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder.

“I’m a panda,” he says at the door. “Look it up.”

The waiter turns to the relevant entry and, sure enough, finds an explanation. “Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.” So, punctuation really DOES matter, even if it is only occasionally a matter of life and death.”

See! I told you so. Next time you loosely use your punctuation, for the love of pandas, think about it. Furthermore, if any of this left you smiling and nodding your head, perhaps you should pick up a copy of the book, Eats, Shoots & Leaves.

TMG Philosophy: Stronger In Waiting- Part 2

Posted on January 27, 2014 by Amanda

It was the summer of 2011 and I was done waiting. I was done hoping. My husband and I had experienced a year of loss that threatened to drown us both. Waiting for anything other than a lifeline seemed impossible. I was done explaining the story to those who asked, and done fielding the sympathetic looks when people discovered we did, in fact, want to start a family, but had experienced so many years, so many cycles of grief in waiting. “There, there,” kind eyes said. “It will happen; keep trying,” warm hugs said. “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be,” concerned smiles said.

Maybe it wasn’t, I finally told myself. A resounding NO was the answer I kept hearing, in my head and in my unanswered prayers. That NO had already crept into my heart, filling it with a hardness that seemed to make each smile forced. I would stop waiting because there wasn’t anything to wait for.

I didn’t know it, but a trip back to Minnesota for a family reunion began to chip away at the hardness. My husband and I had always planned to adopt. It wasn’t a matter of “if”, it was a matter of “when”, or “when we can afford it”. We hadn’t ever given anything but independent adoption the time and consideration. We certainly weren’t going to do anything crazy like open our homes to foster kids, hoping to adopt them if that was an option. That would require too many risks, too much waiting, too much wondering. So, after I read an article on fost-adopt that my aunt showed us, I thought, “Well, that’s nice, but not for us. Not this way.” An offer by a cousin to be a surrogate for us floored and humbled me, leaving me to wonder, “Was this the way? Was this what we had been waiting for?”

The trip home was full of wonderings, full of questions…full of this odd feeling that resembled hope. Was that article and that offer the kick we needed to do something instead of feeling like victims? What were we supposed to do? What were we waiting for? I hate waiting…

When my sister walked into my office on a warm afternoon and handed me a business card for a local agency that specialized in fost-adopt, I thought, here we go again. “Call,” she told me. “No,” I told her. “I’ll just wait and think about it. I don’t think this is the way.” “It’s time,” she answered me. “Time to stop waiting. I’ll call for you.” Fine. Whatever, I thought as she left.

Two weeks later as I talked on the phone with the director of the fost-adopt program, I felt that hope begin to grow. An interview, some phone calls, much paperwork, emotionally-packed training classes and a few more weeks later found us ready to begin the next step in the process and meet our social worker. This was it; we were in it.

Had I known how many meetings we would have with her, how much a part of the family she would become, I would have hugged her immediately and welcomed her like an old friend. Of course, had I known how many meetings we would have with her, how much waiting we would go through with her, we may not have continued.

As she begins to take notes, I wait. I wait to hear her say this isn’t going to work. I wait to see if I can make out what she is writing. No matter how much I strain my neck, I can’t figure it out. So I wait some more. I wait in between meetings and phone calls with her. And when our home study is almost done and our profile is ready, I wait for the phone to ring. I wait for the disappointment. I wait.

Nate’s Notes: A Big Year

Posted on January 22, 2014 by Amanda

Well, it’s a new year. I’m another year older…and she is still here. It’s been a big year! I remember when she first came to live with us. I remember Momma and Daddy calling me a big brother for the first time. I remember holding her for the first time, her throwing up on me for the first time, the first time she smiled at me, laughed at me, and growled at me. I go back and forth about having her around. She smells. She makes funny noises. She keeps us ALL up at night. She gets a lot of attention. Sometimes I act like her so that I get attention too…as if to say, “Hello big people! Remember me? The funny, witty, charming one who actually HELPS with things?” Then, when no one is paying attention to either of us, I remind her that I was here first. This usually ends in crying, head butting and an innocent-looking, well placed move from me that appears to be a hug just as Momma and Daddy look at us. On the other hand, she thinks I’m super cool (maybe she’s smarter than I thought), AND she growls. Both of these will come in handy. And when she smiles at me or gives me a kiss, I get that happy tug and warm feeling. When she laughs because of something I do, I can’t help but smile!

I’m talking about Lyla, of course. This last weekend it was her birthday. She’s one now! It seems like when I turned one, I had such a better understanding of life than Lyla does. I already had my own blog, was practicing with cameras (even without permission), and had the art of distraction down, especially in public when Momma embarrassed us with her camera. Lyla seems like such a baby. She just crawls through life unaware of all that is done around her and for her. Pfff. Some kids. Oh to be that unaware.

She’s watching me now…actually she’s headed this way, so I better stop. Not that she would understand what I’m doing, but I don’t need her drawing attention to me. I guess I’ll have to pretend to be really interested in learning the ABC song again so Momma doesn’t catch on to me writing this. I mean, how many times can you hear that song???!!! Lyla doesn’t mind; she’ll just clap and bop her head like she does every time…such a baby. Gotta go!

RSWL: Service to Others (Volunteering)

Posted on January 20, 2014 by Amanda

“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’” – Martin Luther King Jr.

Today, our nation observes and celebrates Martin Luther King Jr., his life and accomplishments. As one of many ways of doing this, each year, Americans across the country answer that infamous question of his by coming together on the Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday to serve their neighbors and communities through volunteering and service projects. I decided to rehash a previous blog post on volunteering to share today.

Volunteers are the backbone of organizations and events throughout society. Who hasn’t signed up for a creek clean up day, soup kitchen, building project or more? Sure, some people volunteer a few times a year, others volunteer like it’s their job. And while I usually smirk at these do-gooders, the truth is that I wish I was more like them. I’d love to volunteer about a gazillion percent more than I do, and I want my kids to grow up volunteering throughout their lives, begin part of a movement to progress.

There is such a range of volunteering too, that there HAS to be some area we all fit into with our abilities and personalities. Whether it is helping at a race event, vacuuming a church, tutoring kids, a community garden, walking a dog, fighting fires, or a mission trip, volunteer opportunities abound locally and elsewhere. I’ve seen firsthand the impact a couple dozen people and a few hours can make on the lives of people who are hurting. I’ve felt first hand the love these actions carry. Giving our time for something bigger than our needs gives hope. For me, helping out at whatever occasion comes up is a good reality check and a reminder that life isn’t just about my needs, troubles and wants. Sometimes the circumstances are eye-opening, or life altering, like a mission trip or being part of relief efforts after a natural disaster.

Whatever the motivation, whatever the cause, whatever the reasons for helping, volunteers are just plain cool. We don’t all have to believe the same thing or think the same way to have an enormous impact together. Imagine a life without volunteers. What would happen at our churches, libraries, volunteer fire departments, schools and parks if the volunteers didn’t show up??!! Who would help those that need extra love and care above and beyond the paid-position sector if not for volunteers? I don’t think we want to know.

So, if you have ever volunteered, or if you are going to volunteer…thank you. You rock.

RSWL: Service to Others (Volunteering)

Posted on January 20, 2014 by Amanda

“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’” – Martin Luther King Jr.

So, if you have ever volunteered, or if you are going to volunteer…thank you. You rock.

TMG Philosophy: Stronger in Waiting- Part 1

Posted on January 13, 2014 by Amanda

I am impatient. Though I resolve each year of my life to become more patient, I feel like the virtue slips further out of my reach. With a toddler son now, and an infant daughter, I find myself surprised when my friends and family tell me I am calm and patient with the kids. Most times, I feel frantic and flustered. Most times, I feel like screaming while I roll my eyes dramatically when my son decides we need to stack the books AGAIN just as we are leaving the house; or he chooses to throw a level 12 tantrum with five minutes to spare before getting to an important appointment (level 12 requires at least 37 minutes to get through). Most times, I feel like giving myself a time out in the corner and rocking back and forth. Truth is, I am impatient, no matter how I SEEM to others. I loathe waiting, whether it is in a line for food or for my kids, or for photos to upload. I start twitching.

It is exciting to think about where The Transmogrifier will go, how many people we can inspire to create and connect with through our photos and blog. Trouble is, I, along with the other team members, have to wait. Probably longer than ANY of us want to. I loathe waiting. Whenever I hear myself drift toward this negative but very real part of me, I remind myself…

Hope

Ten years ago, if someone had told me I’d be stronger because of waiting, I’d have shown them the door. I didn’t have time to listen to psychobabble about being refined through trials and patience. I had a plan. My husband and I wanted to start a family, and we were pretty sure it would happen pretty fast, without glitches. We were so wrong. One year, then three, then eight years went by. People tried to support us. People tried to love us. I didn’t have time for that though. I didn’t want to wait around and be comforted.

My fervent pleading and prayers seemed unanswered. Or maybe I didn’t wait for an answer. I began to slow down. My hope disappeared. My courage vanished. My strength dwindled. I cried harder, pleaded longer, listened more intently, and waited for a “yes”. But all my waiting got me was another year, another “no”. I was done waiting. I gave up.

And then, one summer, some key people and a series of events changed me forever.

Nate’s Notes: Dr. Nate

Posted on January 8, 2014 by Amanda

Here’s the deal. I’m two. I don’t know about calendars or events, what day it is, or what special meetings have to happen. I take my cues from the big people in my life, mostly Momma and Daddy. Honestly, because I am two, I don’t really care either unless it affects me. Pretty much, if they are happy, I feel happy; if they go somewhere, I usually go too; if they get upset, it makes me feel upset. So you can imagine my surprise when I was told Momma and Daddy were going to stay with a doctor for a few days, over Christmas, and Lyla and I would stay with Gram and Papa. What? Why? What about me?

One day, Momma and Daddy dropped us off, after giving us big hugs, and left. Momma seemed, Daddy seemed upset, and it all made me feel icky in my tummy. Gram held me tight, Daddy said he’d be back as soon as he could, and they were gone. Just like that. They were gone. Lyla was oblivious, and I wished I could be too. Oh to be 11 months old again…when all you are aware of is when your next bottle will come. Nighttime came, and Daddy didn’t come back. We slept with Papa and Gram. Another day and night came, and we still didn’t go back home. I love it at Papa and Gram’s, but I couldn’t stop asking where Momma and Daddy were.

When I finally did see them, it was in a big doctor’s office, with lots of people; Momma was in a weird bed, with a strange dress on, and she was plugged into machines. Her face looked different, and she talked kinda different. I felt that scared, jumpy feeling again in my stomach. “Momma?”, I asked in a small voice. “I go nigh-night to Momma?”, I asked, and tried to climb onto the strange bed. Everyone yelled and stopped me, scaring me even more. I wanted to leave right away. Why was everyone so serious? Why was Momma in bed? Why was she here? None of it made sense. Why did she look like that? Why couldn’t I stay with her and Daddy?

After a few more days, Gram brought me and Lyla home where Momma and Daddy were waiting. I was so excited, and couldn’t wait to jump on Daddy! Momma still looked different. She took naps a lot. She must be really tired or something. She walked really funny too, all bent over and slow. Did she forget how to walk? Should I show her? There was that feeling again.

The next day I saw her get out of bed. I watched her from the hallway before that feeling took over and I ran to Gram yelling, “Momma scares me!”. Later I saw Momma crying and wondered if she was scared too. What was happening?

The next morning, Daddy and Gram were talking and decided they needed my help. They told me a story about Momma and her owie. They started calling me Dr. Nate. First they drew a line on my stomach and said it was just like Momma’s owie. It looked like a ladder to me, but it was cool. Then they had me go check on Momma. I was Dr. Nate and had to see if she needed water, if her owie was okay. I checked it. Hers looked like a ladder too!! Cool! Then I brought her water and ice, and kissed her hand. It was the first time I felt a huge smile on my face AND inside.

I get it now. At first, I was confused about everything that had happened. At least I think I was confused. I’m still trying to figure out each emotion as I grow. Whatever I was feeling, it came out as scared…mostly because I didn’t know what was happening or why. When my big people explained it to me and helped me be Dr. Nate, it became less scary. When I could be helper, something I knew and liked, it calmed me down.

I can hear Momma calling now. Dr. Nate to the rescue!

The Transmogrifier Blog

find . inspire . transform . create

Nate’s Notes: Singing in The Rain

Nate’s Notes: Flutterbies

RSWL: Punctuation

TMG Philosophy: Stronger In Waiting- Part 2

Nate’s Notes: A Big Year

RSWL: Service to Others (Volunteering)

RSWL: Service to Others (Volunteering)

TMG Philosophy: Stronger in Waiting- Part 1

Nate’s Notes: Dr. Nate

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