Buying Cattle with Daddy

 

 

Epcot

 

Did you ever look at a picture and instantly realize you were watching the last moments of childhood slip away?

L was so excited for the princess breakfast.  Poor J is surrounded by so many girls, he also couldn’t wait. We got to Epcot very early,but it paid off as we strolled through the park almost alone and were among the first to be seated.  We were right by the door where the princesses entered.

After a delicious breakfast we parted ways just as the park was officially opening.  When it comes to Disney, I am a crazy planner.  I read all the books and websites,and we entered each park with a plan to help everyone get the most out of their day. Of course by Wednesday,it became clear the plan included everyone but Mama whom became a little resentful, but Brian has promised a return trip where I can see all the parades.  We will probably be ancient before then,but oh well.  I have to admit that by the end of the week I felt those whom instilled the fireworks fear should have been dragging J onto rides explaining over his screams that no fireworks were inside.  The same applies to the Halloween party where we got caught in the show and had to restrain J like a wild animal.  Other than these relatively small issues, the plans worked like a charm.

Big kids headed to rides and little kids and I searched for characters.  We kept our autograph books ready for any chance encounter.  J could smell a character 1/2 mile away.  For L, characters,shows and of course water were the trip.

We met back up to do Nemo and Turtle Talk with Crush.  Due to Disney magic of course, an animated version of Crush, the sea turtle, can interact with the audience.  L got to squealing VERY loud and high and Crush commented on the guest who could speak “whale.” 

For lunch we headed around “the world.”  The food and wine festival was going on, and Brian,Dawn and I would have happily just snacked away the afternoon,but….  After a little searching, Brian found a fabulous pizza place at the back of Italy.  He just smiled and said “It’s Eat Pray Love, we have to eat here”  Gotta love a man who pays attention to the reading habits of his women folk.  It was excellent.

Playing drums in the amazon.  B picked out several architectural features around epcot, allowing Mama to feel relieved that something of world geography was sinking in. 

Characters and gift shops caught us on our way out.  By this time L was completely toast.

 

But who can resist Stitch!

Old Key West

 

We did something different this time and rented someone else’s vacation club points to stay in a condo on Disney property.  It worked great for us.  A washer and the ability to cook are just mandatory for us.  That’s right, my crock pot made the trip!

Finally, L was getting to head to the swimming pool!

And what a great pool it was.  The water slide was a huge hit!

The sand play area was pretty good too.

L can balance on her back and swim from Mama to Daddy!

The view from our patio.

Disney World 2010- The trip down

 

Could you ever guess from this picture that our trip down to Orlando was nothing short of crazy??  In other words, just a normal day for the Celsor family!  We had very good intentions of leaving right from school,and we were close until Brian’s forgotten ankle brace meant a trip back to Holland and then on the road again.  L started signing “swim” before we crossed the Tennessee line,and J was sure Disney World was no further than Bowling Green.  They were delightful traveling companions.  J had stepped on a piece of glass earlier in the day and by the time we stopped for the night, it was obvious a piece was embedded in his foot and we had considerable bleeding.  Brian had researched our stop options and made a great choice. 

The next morning started with Advil for all and a great hot breakfast until we realized L was stinky.  Umm… so began a series of stops due to some kind of stomach bug, in a state that has not improved its public bathroom situation since that ill fated college spring break trip I try so hard to forget.  No changing facilities or even hot water most places.  Thank you Ray Croc and Truett Cathy.  Some days McDonalds and Chikfila are on my most wonderful things list.  Well, that and the pepto bismal we started popping like candy.

Summer Scenes

 

Gotta love girls softball- pony tails, silly socks, pink bats and cheerleader chants with words like scoot your bootie back all sung with plenty of twang  We had an awesome season.  There was plenty of controversy in the final 2 games,but Brian handled it well and we were blessed with great parents and girls.  I especially love the smile on Brian’s face despite his very swollen, purple black ankle from a fight with a calf!  My favorite moments of the season were when H wasn’t hitting and made a deal with her coach/Dad. “I promise to pay attention and hit the ball if you will let me hit left handed.” (She is a righty)  Much to her mother’s chagrin, deal made, ball hit.  And of course the night they just seemed sluggish and Brian yelled to the dugout to “talk it up.”  H always took the lead here and jumped right into some chant.  Her coach from travel ball had stopped by and laughed as he said “H is just such a great cheerleader.”  How he nailed it.  Sorry Dad.

Better late than never

Spring of 2010 brought us plenty of rain. The same storms that flooded Nashville got us as well. I had always assured the girls that we lived “on top of the world” and nothing but a Noah type flood could get us. Never underestimate ground water. The water and rains came fast and furious. Brian and Michael finally just started tearing fence down in hopes cattle could get themselves to higher ground. Our basement flooded as the saturated ground could take no more and the water came in around the drains. By morning the above bridge had water across it for a short time.

This is the view of the river from behind our house.

Of course the ramifications of flooding like this don’t end overnight. I did a horrible job with pictures, but the whole summer was influenced. Our dock at the lake was completely covered- even the stairs. You can only imagine how comical we all looked trying to get out to the boats. There were several canoe tippings and plenty of mosquitoes but on we went.

Fountain Run Airfield

You just never know what will happen at the CPC Field Day. From that small beginning where most attendees were from the local FFA and Sara and I did the desserts to 1200 steaks served and airplanes on site. Not sure what I think about a runway built by bush hog. I was also a little taken back when the pilot turned the plane by hand. I mean he got out, picked up tail and walked the plane around. It was wild. The kids and Brian had a great time. That's right, I kept both feet on the ground.

The Story of Bear

 

My family has always had a special relationship with stuffed animals.  Many of you will remember Rusty or my bear.  So, of course as soon as  I knew about my children I was looking for that wonderful stuffed friend that would see them through childhood.  For B,I found a sherbert colored bear.  We took it to Russia in 1999.  B was literally terrified of it.  When we landed in Cincinnati, Aunt Becky presented her with Pug Dog.  I guess it was that this stuffed animal looked like a real animal, but Pug Dog has been around ever since.  He has been through all 13 surgeries, camp, school,vacations, and everywhere in between.

As soon as we knew about Had,the search was on again.  This time in the form of a creamy yellow,very soft bear.  We took Bear to Russia in 2001, where she patiently tolerated bag searches and gave smiles to stressed airport employees just a few months after 9/11.  Had loved her.  She was a constant companion from day 1.  Had is not quite as responsible as B and bear spent several nights lost in malls, or restaurants.  The longest time she was ever lost was when Had was in 3yo preschool.  We searched everywhere.  I had given up.  Had asked me to pray that God would bring back Bear.  I began to pray this carefully worded prayer about accepting whatever happened, when Had stopped me and took over.  “God, please help me find Bear.  Just put her under my pillow or someplace easy to see.  Amen”  I was worried to death about how we would deal with this loss.  Had however skipped off to school, confident God would answer.  When I picked her up that day,she was grinning ear to ear and said “guess what I have!!” and pulled out Bear.  I had to pull over I was crying so hard.  Had just laughed and said “Why are you crying?  I prayed didn’t I.”  Oh to have the faith of a child.

Bear’s story does not end there.  Last spring,in the midst of all the moving school trauma, Bear went missing.  Bear was getting in rougher and rougher shape and I told Had she couldn’t take her out anymore.  As usual, Had had her own plan and took Bear to school, where she was then left in the car. We couldn’t find her.  I was mad at being disobeyed.  Had was upset.  We looked everywhere and finally sent Had to bed.  The next morning I woke to find the backyard covered in white fluff.  The neighbor dog had ripped Bear to shreds.  I scooped it all up as I sobbed.  This was not repairable.  Hadley fell apart.  I went in at school to let the teacher know.  She looked at me somberly “the bear from Russia?”  I cried again.  Kids made Hadley cards.  It was like a funeral.  Ms. W brought Hadley her own 62yo bear to sleep with.  Meanwhile, I salvaged and hand washed every piece of Bear I could.  The face was 75% in tact.  The mission began.  We went through the fabric store touching every bolt and scrap looking for the right feel and color.  I hand made pattern pieces only to trash them and start again. The fabric was so fragile it required meticulous hand sewing.  Finally, I had a body somewhat in place.  The face and head were still defeating me. I was in over my head. Bring in Grandma who then took Bear to a friend that repairs antique dolls.  Months and hours and money later,Had got back her precious Bear.

I know, we are nuts, but sometimes in a very difficult world, we need a little security and comfort that only a stuffed friend can provide.  But just to be safe….  J and L don’t have such buddies.  They have each other and that is enough.

Status

Yeah, Yeah, I have to do a better job with this. I will soon have to lump this with my woefully unupdated scrapbook stuff. As usual busy doesn't seem to cover it.

Brian messed up his ankle this summer and with the countdown to Disney and all it's walking on, (Don't think L is offering him a ride) Brian bit the bullet and had surgery the first week of August. It's just hard to lose a set of hands in this house, but he is on the mend and promising me he will be careful between now and fall break. L loves that they have therapy together each week, and he has a brace too.

The transition to school has been awesome. After the angriest summer on record, H has thrived in her new setting. Bigger has meant more people to show off for. I'm not kidding. I don't think many people have not noticed her. No one will ever be Ms. W, but I think she got a fabulous teacher this year. There have been some interesting moments like her first scan tron test. We studied really hard for this test and were horrified when she announced she got a 76%. Further investigation revealed she never got a copy of the actual test and didn't realize she was supposed to get one. She answered as the teacher went over the questions to make sure everyone could read them. Only Had. Thankfully, all was figured out and the retest produced a much better result. She has also particularly enjoyed her debit card type lunch account that means too much ice cream, not enough broccoli.

J had a good start followed by trauma as it was announced his class would be cut. After lots of tears by Mama (not very productive) and lots of phone calls and meetings by Brian and some other dads (very productive), J and his classmates were found a space. A slightly different,more challenging place, but at least he is there. He has so far managed to catch every germ in the building, and you know J-- always willing to share.

L has the best teacher ever. Hindsight being what it is, I wish she and J were together. Mrs. R came through Big Red School at WKU, which should be the standard for all inclusive preschools. L was saying "teacher" within just a few days and can't wait to go each day. Her aide stayed with her, and is truly an angel. We even got a phrase this weekend "Boat with my Daddy."

B is gutting out one more year with me before the big move to middle school. We are still trying to help her find an activity. ANYTHING!! 12 is just hard. 12 with a beautiful, talented self assured sister, a very confident brother, and another sister that is holding the whole family hostage, is unbearable. I need to improve my prayer life.

So, there it is. The updated life and times. Stay tuned for Adventures at the Lake and Ode to Dollar General.

Transitions

I had too many emotions flowing to write this as school let out, but I couldn't let a new chapter of our life begin without paying homage to our fabulous last 6 years.


Lets begin with all children are unique and special individuals. One of the advantages of adopting was an awesome social worker that made us confront that our children would not be us. Biological children aren't either, but in adoption, you have to face that it is unlikely your offspring will have any of your talents or natural leanings. Are you ready to leave your own comfort box? Hold that thought. Years ago I read an article about a family that had made the rare decision to educate each of their 3 children in a different setting. One in public school, one in private school, and the other at home. When asked why, they simply stated "Each of our children has different needs." I hoped I would be so open minded. Most of our world argues that one area or the other is correct. Either we were raised that way and can't imagine anything else or we may have strong religious beliefs about one choice or another: Aren't we called to be salt and light? (public) Jesus was educated in the temple and the church has a long history of strong education (private) and finally, the Bible clearly places parents as the authority over children and we are called to teach and talk about faith to our children as we walk, sit, work etc. (home). I have long found confusing that while many are perfectly okay to send children to post secondary schools best suited to individual needs and personalities and after visits, tours and research, they make elementary choices without observation or critique. They accept what is handed to them. If I chose my child's pediatrician, whom we see a few times a year, after recommendations and research, why would I just chance where my child spends 7 hours a day, 5 days a week?


I knew my child. I knew her needs. I went looking for a school. I visited many places. Sat in many classrooms and sat down with administrators. When I walked in Holy Trinity, I almost cried. As the director walked me down a hall filled with children's art work based on a great artist they had studied, paper butterflies hung from the ceiling. The walls of the cafeteria were covered in a flower garden of thanks to teachers as part of Lutheran schools week. I saw parent volunteers in classrooms and the library. She discussed the importance of real books, not just textbooks. Here were small classes, high academic standards and an open door to parents. Science and social studies flourished in younger grades not because it would be tested, but because those are the years of seed planting. And of course covering it all was open discussion and practice of God's love, grace, standards, and forgiveness.

One of the best things about HTLS is size. Yes, it matters. Small schools and classes have fewer limits. It is easier to adjust the program for a different classes needs, or even a few children's needs. We have been blessed with awesome teachers who took every opportunity offered. Hear about a great field trip, play or program? Toss them in the van and go. Space camp, local theatre, Kentucky history by traveling all over the state. It is easier to be positive and deal with heart issues. Most importantly, Holy Trinity builds families. In classes this size, you can have the whole group plus families to Halloween parties or picnics. Over the years these people became not only my children's friends, but mine. How will I raise my kids without them?? These people who pick my kids up with no notice. Friends who bring supper, share clothes, and just love us. I know HTLS doesn't have a monopoly on good people,but they sure have a high percent of them.

HTLS isn't perfect. Like any other place we have dealt with issues like bullies or parents whom don't pitch in, or a teacher dispute. But along the way we skipped the popularity battles, clothes wars and other politics. We sent our kids off to school in their Target specials to get messy and become better thinkers- not just good students (there is a difference). And got to expose them to different races and cultures.

Tuesday, we begin a new adventure. After a year of being those open minded parents with one in home school, 2 in private, and 1 in public we are facing the reality that living where we live makes this plan almost undoable. Even with great friends to carpool, it is just too much. I can't spend, L can't spend the hours in the car (25 or so a week). We will continue to home school B as it has been a good fit for her, but J, L and H will all make the move to public. To huge schools (27 in H's class which is one of 9 4th grades in the building.) To a place where we know a few people, and there are no doubt some great people, some great teachers and of course Christians. It will be an adjustment. I have been warned to expect little parent communication and the woefully un updated web site attests to that. There will be more challenges and less flexibility. I wonder if anyone realizes that while 10,000 volumes in the library sounds impressive, when you do the math it amounts to 10 books per kid. The lack of foreign language till high school in an ever shrinking global climate is a little terrifying. But, I am clinging to the hope that a bigger school means opportunities I haven't imagined. That learning to work in this environment will make my children stronger. That the added family time will mean a better, less exhausted Mama. We are hoping above all hopes that our very angry child will be okay and after a few weeks will be as happy as L when we pull up at the building. Transitions are always hard and leaving a wonderful place makes it hard to envision the next place as good or even better, but we are going to try. Our bags are packed, we have boarded the boat, we leave behind our small bay and head into open water. The ocean awaits.

Camp 2010

“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”  Psalm 46:10

I long ago realized that camp was far more about me than any child I ever took.  Camp just seems like a place that God is closer, or at least easier to hear from.  I come from a family history of camp.  I remember my aunts heading off to Burnumwood for weeks at a time.  I was part of the long drives to get them long before I was old enough to go myself.  I couldn’t wait for that first weekend as a camper.  What a place it was.  I heard songs never sung at my church and for the first time read from something other than a KJV Bible.  For years I thought they were the only place with Bibles in common English.  I loved reading those hard backed books!  This was the first place I ever had a quiet time, sang a praise chorus, or saw drama in worship.  We played capture the flag, looked at stars, and slept outside without a tent.

When my girls got old enough I started looking for the same experience.  Secular camps are not the same and too often, church “camps” have become more like conferences than an old fashioned checkout from technology, meet with nature events.  Sure there is a place for these, but I wanted to make sure they didn’t miss out on what was so great about my camp experience.  Thank you Cedarmore.  Cedarmore is set in the woods with gravel walks and log cabins filled with bunk beds.  The dining hall has a slamming screen door and hot water is a valuable commodity.  The schedule is full but leaves plenty of room for singing on the hill, doing hair, and playing outside.  I love that it is all girls because it can be girl empowering without being beat the boys.  My favorite part is always the missionaries.  MIllie Reule and Deborah Cortner planted a love of missions that has never gone away.  I am completely taken with God’s work through ordinary people sold out to His plan. 

This year the missionaries were from a middle east country that has every material item you could want but is almost entirely Muslim.  It is in fact, not legal for them to be there as missionaries.  She (won’t mention names for safety reasons) taught the daily adult Bible study.  It was awesome.  She began each day by having a few people share testimonies.  The room was filled with really broken people that God was redeeming and using for greatness.  Doesn’t it take you back to realize that those whom have much don’t really let God use them the way those in pieces seem to?  I once heard an example of how God’s power and light shines through broken vessels, but is simply hidden inside the seemingly perfect ones.  How precious each story was.  But, here also was an opportunity to be a student.  Many times those willing to come to camp are also those teaching at home.  How refreshing to be the student.  The Bible verse that most hit me was Pslam 46:10. I have heard and read this verse many times.  I pause for a moment, express my frustration to God and then push on.  I am surrounded by people who largely think this verse is a joke. Okay,maybe a pipe dream but certainly not a way of life. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”  After all, aren’t we just supposed to go till exhaustion and then drink a red bull?  Umm… not quite what the verse says.  See most of us, myself included, seem to think that the gospel is about us.  God tells us to be still because rest is a good thing for ME.  But, if you read the whole verse we realize that it is a good thing for God.  See,if I be quiet, it is God whom gets the glory.  If I step back,it is God whom gets the praise.  Not me, God.

There were plenty more camp lessons I need to ponder like the sweetness of little girls singing away the miles sans ipods.  Or God’s protection while they are hanging from a wire soaring through the trees.  Or just the need to live with margins so that when hiking to the lake there is time to stop and breathe deeply of the delicious smells in the flowered bend in the path, and watch the amazing number of butterflies doing the same.  I hope the girls had a good week.  Their leader definitely did.

Skills We Have

Sometimes it takes the space of a year to really see accomplishment. Last year, as this year, I struggled to get to softball games. At one of the first games I did make last year, this lovely redheaded mom came running to me asking "Are you the coach's wife? I have really wanted to meet you." Turns out, they too had a daughter with many of the same issues as L, but no diagnosis (a troubling place to be). We talked quite a bit last summer, and then have run into each over over the winter. Enough for me to feel like her daughter C was making great progress and we were standing still. She was walking, sitting independently. And while we are thrilled for them, it is hard to not be jealous. Sometimes I need to do an emotion check and not unlike the Berenstain Bears book where they become consumed with Bearbie dolls and video games, be reminded to count my blessings. The mom on Table for 12 commented last season "I would be happy to feed Rachel (daughter with CP) for the rest of her life, but I think drinking from a straw would be a really nice skill for her." Ahh, a count my blessings moment. L can't hold the cup, but she can drink from a straw or a regular open mouthed cup. That people, means freedom. I reread my post from August about yes, no,and more. Last night that lovely red head watched L at the ballpark and commented on L's communication and what they would give for that. Keep counting Mama. L is making animal sounds-lots of them. She recognizes and says, pink, purple and yellow. She can pick out almost anything in the books we read,and has definite favorites. She participates in motions with songs like "Happy and you know it". If you can ask enough yes and no questions, you can figure out what she wants. She signs eat, sleep, music, and potty. Yes, she is going to be potty trained. We aren't walking or sitting criss cross or many other things, but a year ago she was barely getting yes and no. Now she crawls to me with her favorite color nail polish and points to her hands. This week, as it stormed outside, she pushed off my shoulder at bedtime and said "thunder, Mama." Yes, baby, just like the Berenstain Bears, it sometimes takes a little thunder to remember how much we have.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

How does your garden grow??

With children sweet….

 

and dirty feet,

And plants in boxes not rows!!

I just love the garden.  I love my morning meetings with earth worms and weeds.  I love the feel and the smell of soft black dirt in my hands, and the daily discovery of something newly sprouted.  Bright berries peek from under leaves, and J blows off the dirt before popping them into his mouth.  He debates with me all the reasons I should NOT plant red sweet corn, only yellow.  L repeats “lello”. J finds her a berry.  B takes over her own box to fill with wildflower seeds, and of course we weed.  We anxiously await the future blueberry and raspberry harvests and vow to find what creature is eating the broccoli.  I delight in finding that Brian has staked my babied heirloom tomatoes brought from Aunt Drue in Bracken county.  Better yet, a scoop of manure form the barn. I think J assumes the dirt piles are just for his truck playing needs.  I wear my funny straw hat from southern states, and L eats grass.  We take pictures like proud parents, squeal at bugs, and plan for the harvest.

This is a few weeks old, this box now looks like a rainforest.

Couldn’t resist the view.

Is there anything sweeter than fresh picked strawberries??