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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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Archives for 2012

Overthinking fundraising

6.21.12

Fundraising.

Just the word can give me the chills. I picture overpriced wrapping paper and pizza kits, going door to door and begging family friends to help me go on my choir trip or get new softball uniforms.

Years later, I don’t really remember who bought the candy bars or candles or pizza kits I was selling though I remember where they got me.

But, raising funds—terms with a whole lot less chill factor, in my opinion—for an adoption is entirely different.

A private domestic adoption may cost around $20,000. An international adoption costs a whole lot more than that–$10,000-$25,000 more than that. I have a friend who spent $60,000 to bring their daughter home. There are simply not a lot of families who have that kind of money at their fingertips.

Enter…raising funds.

And, enter criticism.

If you can’t afford to adopt, you shouldn’t be doing it. You shouldn’t use a child to play on people’s sympathies to give you money. If you wouldn’t fundraise to buy a house or your car, you shouldn’t do it for an adoption either.

But, see, a child isn’t a house or a car. And, not having $20,000-$45,000 in a savings account doesn’t disqualify you as a good parent—thankfully. And, actually, I’d venture to say that most families raising funds for their adoptions are not standing on street corners with cans and a picture of a malnourished child wearing a tent sign saying, “Help bring my baby home.”

I give families raising funds for adoptions a lot of respect. Everywhere I go online, I’m finding families who have designed and are selling great t-shirts to raise funds. I’m finding moms who have learned a craft and are working hard when all is quiet in their homes at night to make them and list them online. I’m finding parents writing books, threading needles, making jewelry (and more and more jewelry), selling coffee, teaching a skill–in this case, Chinese!, becoming artists, selling items through The Sparrow Fund (there’s a program for fundraising families), gathering unwanted stuff to sell at massive yard sales, hosting giveaways for Kindle Fires, putting together big ole raffles, doing their best to somehow get closer to that money needed to grow their families through adoption.

And, I’m finding God providing.

These families aren’t playing on my sympathies and making me say, “Fine, already, take my money!” Instead, I’m saying, “I want to be a part of that family’s story. I want to play a part—albeit a small part—of God’s provision for that family.”

I read a post not long ago written by an adult adoptee criticizing adoption fundraising, criticizing adoption itself in a lot of ways. At one point, the author wrote specifically about fundraising with this:

Is it really so hard to see how that [fundraising] is using the child, your future child, for personal gain? Do what you have to do, but is doing it at the expense of your child’s privacy, and well-being, really how you want to begin your new family? What will it teach your child? Will it teach them that when you want something bad enough, it is acceptable to play on the compassion and sympathy of others to get what you want?

Is that really how parents want to begin their new families?

Yes.

What will it teach their children?

It will teach their children that they did all they could to bring them home. It will teach their children that their being a part of their families was not a mistake. Families will recall to their children the late nights, the thank-you notes, the clicking away on the computer. And, they will tell their children how God provided through people—people who shopped with purpose and people who gave with purpose.

Count me in.

______________________________________________

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption

{summer ♥} Repurpose a Dollhouse

6.20.12

The wooden firehouse and doll house haven’t been played with in a while. But, on a summer morning when the “What should I do?”s started, these toys were reincarnated.

1. With Evan all into the Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory book, then the play, and now the book The Candymakers, Candy is a big theme around here lately. When I suggested creating a candy factory, his eyes lit up. Next time, I may suggest a super villain lair or a mad scientist laboratory or a haunted house.

2. Empty out the dollhouse, looking for things that might be able to be repurposed as you do.

3. Think creatively, and don’t squelch any ideas.

(I love his pipe cleaner pipes and the baby toy on top that is a gum ball machine maker.)

4. Encourage teamwork. Drew made the truck garage for Sweet’s Candy Factory. Ashlyn turned the dollhouse into the candy store where Drew would deliver the goods. 

5. Be warned that little trouble makers may not understand the repurposing and interfere a bit much to the creative thinkers’ dismay.

6. As with other projects, spend all morning setting it up and once it’s complete, the fun is over. No real playing going on after that. But, who cares. I remember getting more excited about dressing my Barbies than playing with them. 
7. Surrender your living space to giant repurposed creations that have to remain out for way longer than you’d like them to—or until you can come up with something else you can repurpose them for…and maybe a different place to do it. 
we ♥ summer

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: why can't they just stay little forever

Overthinking on Fathers’ Day

6.17.12

There is a reason Disney movies are wildly successful, a reason beyond crazy realistic animation and multimillion dollar marketing. Before all that, there were what you might call the simple classics–Snow White, Cinderella, The Sword in the Stone…

There’s something all these movies, stories, share. There’s a hero and someone who needs a hero.

I believe we were all created with a longing for a hero.

Growing up, we moved a lot with my dad on Young Life staff. New houses. New schools. New friends. Even new pets from year to year. But, no matter where we lived, the three girls in our family played ball. It was sort of the one stable thing I can remember. I think the first thing my parents did in a new town wasn’t to find a good mechanic but to sign us up for softball. My mom carted us around to and fro every practice. And, I think both my parents made every game pretty much. At one particular game in maybe 5th grade, this short stop took a line drive right off the mitt and into the mouth. I remember crying and bleeding. And, then I remember my dad running onto the field, scooping me up like a baby, and carrying me to the car. I think he joked about me messing up his shirt or something like that. But, what I remember most clearly was him being my hero.

We spent summers at Young Life camp where, at about that same age, I know I acted like I owned the place. There was one particular college aged summer staff guy who overstepped boundaries just a wee bit when I was being sassy to my older sister one night. I don’t remember much about if I told my parents or my shocked older sister did in my defense. But, what I do remember was looking out the window of the staff housing and seeing my dad give that boy a talking to I’d never seen before. And, I knew that he was my hero.

We debate over whether my dad ever changed a diaper. I can’t remember him ever helping us with homework. And, if Mom was away and he had the task of getting us up and to school, he was known to wake us up with Banjo playing or the Beach Boys on the record player. But, I longed for a hero. And, along the way, I knew he was one as we walked the halls of different high schools with my grape soda in hand.

Now, I have the joy of parenting alongside my best friend. He’s a different dad than our dads were in a lot of ways. He’s changed way more diapers than he cares to remember. He bathed all the babies and sat by the bath tub just to talk to them and make them laugh. They think he can fix anything–and I’m pretty content with them thinking I can fix nothing. They love wrestling and being enveloped by him as they cackle and he growls ferociously. When he plays hockey early enough that all are still awake, we bundle up and sit in the stands. They can’t follow the game; but they sure follow their daddy, cheering his name and clearly giddy with excitement when he looks their general direction. They get that he works to provide for us and that he’s “in charge” of the family.

We trust him. We know he loves us.

He’s so their hero. And, for the past nearly 14 years, he’s been my hero too.

Happy father’s day, Dad – the hero of my youth who may not have changed my diaper but now reads my blog faithfully.

And, happy father’s day, Mark – my hero for life and the one leading our family and pointing us all to the Hero everyday.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Extended Family, Mark

{summer ♥} Bean Auction

6.16.12

My fond memories of hosting my own bean auction parties in 4th or 5th grade have now been usurped by hosting a bean auction party for my kids. 

1. Have your kids look around for some items to contribute to the auction, things they don’t want any more or maybe a gift they got that didn’t thrill them. Throw in a King size Hershey Bar and other goodies to sweeten the pot.

2. Call a friend to do the same and come on over. Make sure friend’s mom is okay with (a) friend donating items from his room or their gift closet for the sake of alleviating boredom and (b) friend coming home with junk to fill the space those things came from. 

3.  Beans. Each kid needs a cup of ’em. Use a glass cup so they can literally see how many beans they have left in there (trying to make this educational, you know). For this first attempt, I gave each kid an even 40 beans. Next time, I’m going to give beans as answers to questions….such as…. 

  • Did you brush your teeth today? Yes = 1 bean
  • Did you contribute more than 3 items to the auction? Yes = 3 beans
  • Did you put your flip flops away today? Yes = 2 beans (obviously more valuable to me than clean teeth)
  • Did you tell your mother you love her today? Yes = 5 beans

4. Be a full-fledged, fast-talking auctioneer, showing off each item and making it totally desirable.

5. Be prepared for the donor to suddenly believe your fast talk and change his or her mind and bid on his or her own donated item.

6. Choose the order wisely–mix up lesser desired items with more highly desired items.

7. Adore your child when he bids on a craft donated by your daughter and then immediately gives it to you, saying that you were saying such nice things about it, you sounded like you really wanted it.

8. Laugh hysterically when son is cheering at his win of the King-sized Hershey Bar for 28 beans after a tight bidding war with his sister only to have his friend jump in during the “going once…” talk to drive up the bidding so that son spends all 40 beans on one chocolate bar in total Wonka style.

we ♥ summer 

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: why can't they just stay little forever

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