He did it!

Every mother has a list of wishes for their child, from the minute they meet them face to face.  In some long lost journal up on a shelf in Charlie's room, I wrote mine for him.  Maybe I should glance at it before completing this post?  Nah…

Charlie has always been the inquisitive type.  Books and puzzles were attractive to him from an early age.  Being a former teacher,  I would not say no to buying a book for my children.   When your kids grow up knowing books and learning are fun, it's amazing what they will do with it.

When we moved to Canada, he was three and a half.  I distinctly remember him staring at the maps we used to drive across the country.  They amazed him.  And why wouldn't they?  They were colorful, interesting and straight forward- and easy to understand at any age.

Much of his free time was spent in front of the large North American map that hung on the office wall. He'd either study it or bring blank paper and copy it free hand.  Thus began his in depth love of all things geographical.

Fast forward eight years or so.  He's a self taught kid who reads every non-fiction book he can get his hands on.  Some kids play sports.  My kid reads.  Some kids read best selling fiction.  My kid reads books about learning Russian and Science books.  Some kids have no interest in learning new things.  My kid can't get enough of new information.  It's the way God made him.

Friday was his third time competing in the State Geography Bee.  After two years of experience, his maturity and comfort level kicked in, unlike previous years.  He'll tell you that he studied more than in other years, and more methodically.  Obviously, it paid off.

He won the entire competition without missing a single question all day.  Out of all the wishes I ever had for him as a infant, I'm fairly certain none of them involved winning a big competition.  Plenty of life skills had to be practiced that day; patience, good sportsmanship, being cool under pressure, wisdom, being gracious to journalists, and relishing the moment.  His composure through it all astounded me.  Sometimes I wonder if we've done right by him when it comes to certain things (don't ALL parents have this worry?), and other times I know that he's got no excuse to not do it properly.

More important than the win, was the chance to see him shine.  There are certain personality traits our children carry, that in the wrong light can be construed as negative.  Yet, when circumstances arise that are out of our control, sometimes those "negative" traits become positive.  Such was the case on Friday.  It's a wonderful thing to watch your child bloom right in front of you.  Seeing them in a new light, being humbled by the gifts God gave him/her, brings me to my knees in utter awe.  Part of it is knowing I could NEVER do what he did.  The other part is realizing that he is a unique individual, given a set of gifts and talents that God is showcasing in ways I never could have predicted.

Yes, Charlie won.  But God gets all the credit.

Amen.

Thing 32

It's always a joy to find another thing to love about living here.  We're still "newbies" in my book, having lived here just under three years.  Making discoveries still happens fairly regularly, and I welcome them.

Thing 32 that I love about living here is that the Seeing Eye is only a stone's throw from us.  It's a  nationally known organization that exists to bring dignity and independence to the blind through the assignment of a Seeing Eye dog.

Yesterday, I began my stint as a volunteer at their headquarters.  Once we let Ester go, the puppy fix was needed.  By volunteering I could still be around pups and also learn a bit more about the running of the organization.  My "job" is far from glamourous, but it does allow me to be in the kennels.  Secretly I'm hoping to see our girl while she's there, but I think it might do me in, to be honest.

While waiting in the reception area yesterday I was able to chat with the receptionist, (who happens to be blind) about all things Seeing Eye.  She was kind enough to let me pet her black lab "O'Hara" which was a special treat, trust me.  This particular Monday happened to be the beginning of the new session, so students were checking in for their month long training.

When the first student came in with his wife, several of the instructors came to greet him, along with  the head of the Seeing Eye with his dog "Vegas" in harness.  For a few moments I was the fly on the wall, overhearing the conversation.  The gentleman was coming in for his first dog.  Between hearing that and watching Vegas in action, I was brought to tears.  What a privilege to finally see it all in action, lived out right in front of me.

As a puppy raiser, there's a tendency to have tunnel vision and only focus on the training of the dog.  Once they leave us, we're onto the next puppy or attempting to get back to normal.  We're not privy to the ENTIRE process of getting that puppy into the hands of the blind person.  All this time, talking and thinking about Ester becoming a Seeing Eye, it's been difficult to visualize the end product, not having seen it.

Sitting in that chair changed all that.  Everything came together for me.  These dogs change lives.  How totally selfish I've been in wanting her to come back to us, when she can go out and conquer the world for someone.  THAT'S what I want.  We don't need her, but they do.

We're blessed to be involved with such an amazing organization. Thing 32, you might just be my favorite reason for moving here.

Time passes

We're about six weeks into the absence of Ester.
I'd like to say we're used to it, and in a small way we are, but truthfully, we miss her.
We miss her dearly.

On these long cold nights with a fire going and us hanging out on the couch, there's no Ester to snuggle.

When the fire is raging and warming up the room, there's no Ester to rest in front of it and soak up it's heat.

When the cats are lounging around like they own the place (and they do), there's no Ester to torture them and take them down a notch.

When the snow just wouldn't stop coming, and coming, and coming- there was no bouncy, happy Ester to jump right into it with the kids.

When this mom, who spends the majority of her days alone talking to herself, there's no Ester to listen or offer up love.

How does one adjust to this missing piece?  Is it possible we will never adjust completely?  Part of me believes we won't ever be able to say we've recovered from her absence, and that's okay.  I want to be affected in such a way that our response is to do it again, and again and again.  Fostering a puppy for this cause has impacted me, and our family greatly.

Two letters have come in the mail from Ester, with the latest one giving us the details on who is training her, as well as preparing us for her future "town walk" where we will get to see her in harness.  Can I be honest?  The thought of her in harness makes my heart swell with such pride.  But pride is the last thing I want to feel, instead I'm aiming to feel nothing but gratitude.  Not just for the chance to love her and know her, but for the opportunity to affect a life in a way that is uncommon and unmeasurable.  In a small way we are acting as ambassadors of Christ, in sacrificing our time, energy and hearts to love on a person we don't even know.  What a mystery of love to do something so difficult, and yet desire to do it again and again.  The capacity for love that Christ has given us is propelling us forward.

While we wait to hear how she does in her training, we have moved forward in our quest to have our own puppy to keep.  When we began the entire process of fostering, we (actually only one of us) weren't sure a dog would be the right fit for us.  Ester went and sold us.

In the meantime, we're teaching the cats to play fetch and walking them around the block.  It's been an epic fail.  You can't teach on old cat new tricks.

Already?

Every time I'm out with Ester I am barraged with questions.  It seems predictable that I answer the one about her age and then comment (lately, anyhow) that she'll be called up soon.

So while I've been SAYING it,  and EXPECTING it, I've not really BELIEVED it.  This is a problem.

Just today, in some back and forth emails with the coordinator about Ester's latest adventure (I'll spare you the details) she mentions that Ester's being called up this month.  We as a family, need to decide on the specific date.

CRUSH. MY. HEART.

How do I go about looking at her sweet face and not break into tears?  Who will greet me when I come home from running errands?  Who will sleep in front of the fire and enjoy it's warmth?

How do I tell the kids?  This will not be my finest moment as a Mom, I can guarantee it.  No books, no manuals on how-to-break-the-news-to your-children.  A box of kleenex and lots of hugs.  I'm going to pray that does the trick.  And a freezer full of ice cream never hurt either.






 

Thing 31

It's been quite some time since finding another thing to love about this move.  Even if it's been over two years, it doesn't matter.  As transplants, we'll likely always find something unique to love about this place.

Thing 31 isn't a place, or a thing, but people.  This could be a first (but I'd have to do my due diligence and check).  Last evening we had a dinner at school to celebrate the soccer team's season.  Kid #1 played on the team, a stretch for this kid who doesn't care much for sports.  As parents, it's always a joy to see your children extend themselves in new ways.

Lest you forget, (or don't know) our children attend a small classical Christian school in the area.  The two coaches are parents of children on the team, and both men have a love of the game, a love for children and a love for Jesus, above all.  When it came time for the head coach to speak, he said something "unconventional" in the sports realm-  " I told your kids, on the first day of practice, that I didn't care if they won or lost a game; that our priority was to exemplify Jesus Christ while on that field."  Wow.  Not wow as in: "how could he not care about winning or losing?" but wow as in "if only there were more people in the world like THIS."  The fact that my child was mentored by two men of such caliber, leaves me speechless.  He proceeded to talk about each child and the character traits that stood out all season.  Sure, he talked briefly about the team's stats, but truthfully, that wasn't what we wanted to hear.  It was completely humbling to hear about kids aged 11-14 living out their faith on a soccer field.  I love this.  My heart loves this.  More importantly, our God loves this.

There's too much that's wrong with the world these days.  Last night, I was honored to witness something that's RIGHT with it.

Thing 31 that I love are the two great coaches that impacted my child's life for a season.

Lessons from a puppy

1) Always be excited when people come to your door- it makes them feel welcomed.
2) Never miss a meal, it keeps your blood sugar stable.
3) Sleep a lot, then sleep some more.  One can never sleep too much.
4) Play with kids.  They know how to enjoy life, and they don't take themselves too seriously.
5) Find one good toy, it will keep you occupied and prevent you from finding trouble.
6) Run through the sprinklers on a hot day.  Because who doesn't love the feel of cool water?
7) Take long walks to enjoy nature and your surroundings.  The birds, the wind through the trees, seeing your neighbors, it's all good!
8) Have a good relationship with your doctor.  In fact, be excited to see him/her EVERY time, as treats will follow.
9) Be on your best behavior when in a restaurant.  It will impress people.
10) Show unconditional love and expect nothing in return.
11) Linger by a roaring fire, and if led, nap there too.
12) Follow the trustworthy, but lead the blind.
13) Show those puppy dog eyes whenever it will prove beneficial.  A little can go a long way here, folks.

Crunch time

Ester is nearly 11 months old now.  Where has the time gone?
Just last night at class, there was a brand new 8 week old flat-coated retriever (named Finnegan) present and I gave thought to kidnapping him because I truly miss the cuteness of that stage.  Then I looked down at Ester and realized not only is she long past that age, but she's SO MUCH EASIER than an 8 week old puppy.

I never thought I'd get to say that.  In the middle of the rough stage, it can seem so PERMANENT.  Have you ever had a phase of life like that?  Then one day, you're out from under it, without even realizing it, and that's the sadness of it, really- the casualness with which we lose perspective.

A 10 month old lab is not without work, lest you think she is!  According to our coordinator, we have "a few things" to be working on in the next few months.  This self- imposed guilt I feel over not training her properly is weighing heavily on me.  Now it's up to me and some serious discipline to correct it, or else she may fail the program.  The details of it don't matter, but I will say that this dog is SMART.  She's one step ahead of me, smart.  Unfortunately, that won't help her succeed if she doesn't obey the rules here in our house first.  She and I each have our goals, and we're battling it out- so far it's Ester 10, Lori 1.

If she fails, I'll come to grips with it.  My preference would be that she fails PRIOR to being assigned to her blind person.  Months in the kennel means they won't be able to see her around furniture, a kitchen, or shoes, where these issues would pop up.   This is my fear- that her weak spots only show up in "real life" once assigned.

For now, I'm working hard to re-train her and hoping it's enough to do the trick.  This is where   1Timothy 6:18 comes in handy as I persevere:

" Let them do good, that they may be rich in good works, ready to give, willing to share"