Sunday, December 11, 2011

a fixer-upper

I have picked up what might seem like rather strange  hobby for a new 30-year-old. I tell myself it's not that weird because I know other people like to do the same thing. However, I may only be kidding myself, and maybe I am quite strange after all. Either way, I am totally excited and just need to share.

When I was around 10 years old, I asked for a dollhouse for Christmas. I'm not talking about a barbie dollhouse; I'm talking about the wooden kind that comes in a kit and you put it together, paint it, add carpet & wallpaper & little miniature furniture. My parents obliged that Christmas. They bought me a dollhouse kit that I would put together with my dad. They also bought me a few beautiful pieces of furniture. Well, my dad & I never put the kit together and then I left home, got married, and so on. I think the kit eventually was given away. I have always kept the mini furniture in hopes I would one day again be able to have a dollhouse.

As my 30th birthday approached, I thought I needed some kind of project to do... something for me... so I thought about it and decided I wanted a dollhouse. Undortunately, the price of dollhouse kits has skyrocketed in the past 20 years so I opted to buy a used one. I found one online for a great price, which also included oodles of furniture. This house is a fixer-upper. It needs to be repainted and needs some fixing up inside. Doors need hinges, floors need carpets, and walls need paint. So, this year I will start working on those basics, and worry about the rest of the furniture later.

I'm so excited about this that I seriously don't want to do anything else with my extra time. So, here is a picture of my gorgeous dollhouse. I don't know what color/s I will paint it, but it won't be the same by the time I finish.

And, here is the inside: 10 rooms and lots of furniture to boot.

Maybe I'll throw in a couple pictures along the way as I fix it up. I'm excited! Happy 30th birthday to me!

Friday, December 2, 2011


So, our foster kids will most likely be gone by the end of December. This is fine and we knew it was coming. In fact, they are now with their parents more than they are with us. So, this means my life is a bit easier now. I still have to drive them around all the time, but home life isn't as hectic. The other day I started thinking about them leaving for good. I have just gotten so used to seeing their little faces around my house. I've gotten used to their smiles, their laughs, their preferences, their messes.

Most assuredly, I have gotten used to having a baby around. I have really grown to love Little Miss B. She is just such a darling baby. I wish I could post a picture of her for you to see. I adore her the way I adored Megan as a baby. I love most everything about her. I find myself whispering sweet nothings into her ears. At night, when I put her to bed, I tell her I want her to be my baby forever. I tell her it's not fair that I love her and have to give her back. I tell her to tell Heavenly Father that she should be my baby (even though I know I shouldn't say that). I ask her if she wants to be mine, and then she smiles at me, or laughs. And I hold her close because I won't be able to hold her much longer. Then she'll be gone and I'll most likely never hold her again. I don't want to let her go, but I have to.

So, I found myself grieving for this child that isn't even mine, that I haven't even lost yet. I guess it stems back to the fact that a part of me still aches to bare my own children. Granted, I've told myself a zillion times that I'm over it and that it doesn't matter. After all, it is absolutely true that we never would have found Megan had our lives not set us in this direction. And we wouldn't give up Megan for 15 biological children, and that's the honest truth. But still...

this is not the path we chose. We did not choose to be infertile. Sure, we chose to adopt because we wanted to be parents, but we would rather have had our own (and it would have been a thousand times easier, I think). Now we are foster parents. People put us on a pedastal for doing this. Thing is, we don't do foster care because we're "good people". We do it because we have to. We do it because I can't ever get pregnant and we need more kids and we don't feel right going more into debt to adopt more children. So, you see, foster care is not the path we chose. I would go so far as to say this foster care thing is not the path I want. I don't want to have to raise other people's children that come to us with their own issues. I don't want to deal with the problems. I don't want to deal with the hassle. I don't want to deal with having to love children, and then have them leave and never see them again. I just don't want to do it. But, we do it because we don't have a choice. We need more children and this is the only feasible way to do it.

So anyway, I was getting down on myself, you know, the "why me" statements. The look at so-and-so who pops out children like they're popcorn comparisons. The why can she get pregnant when she obviously shouldn't, but yet I can't when I obviously should be able to resentment. Basically, the life's not fair and I got the short end of the stick, depressing thoughts.

I hate it when I think this way. Thinking this way does not make me feel better. Wishing to have something I don't have never makes me feel better. So, instead, I tried something else. I got on the internet and started looking at a friend's blog who lost a baby last year. Her blog led me to many other blogs, with stories of grief and pain from lost children. So then I just started feeling grateful instead.

I'm grateful that Megan is healthy and happy. I'm grateful for a loving husband who has supported me emotionally when many men would shudder away. I'm grateful for my warm home. I'm grateful for my piano. I'm grateful that I have music in my life. I'm grateful that Jared is such an amazing dad. I'm grateful for the good family I came from, and for the good family I married into. I'm grateful for good friends, I'm grateful for the beautiful mountains across the street. I'm grateful that foster care is available for people like us. I'm most grateful for my Savior. I'm grateful that He knows me and helps me. I am grateful to know that my family can be together for all eternity; that life does not end at death. I am grateful to know that my Heavenly Father loves me and has given me every tool I need to return to Him some day.

With so many things to be grateful for, I find it hard to feel sorry for myself. I really have countless blessings. I truly am happy with my life. When I look at life in this perspective, I wouldn't have it any other way.