• Home
  • Blog
  • The Sparrow Fund
    • Together Called
    • We Are Grafted In blog
    • Speaking
  • Jiayin
  • Contact

My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

  • Home
  • Blog
  • The Sparrow Fund
    • Together Called
    • We Are Grafted In blog
    • Speaking
  • Jiayin
  • Contact

Time to go

2.19.18

It’ll be hours yet before the children wake. Staying up late watching the Olympics secured that. All but one of them lost interest long before we eventually turned it off. But, everyone stayed in the room, texting each other funny gif files while sitting side by side and playing with the cats. Drew pushed hard for our own Raudenbush olympics with events such as charades and our own version of figure skating, but Lydia was his only willing competitor.

We all hesitated to go to bed when our eyes got heavy. Us included even though we knew it would just be a nap given that our alarms were set for 3am. We all just wanted to enjoy the night together before Mom and Dad headed out.

I know it’s not easy for them to have a Mom and Dad who do a good bit of traveling. There’s a part of me that worries about it and wonders what messages they are receiving and if they are getting all they need. Then I remember that God didn’t call just Mark and I to this; He called our whole family. And, He’s equipping us to parent them within that calling and meeting each one of them right where they are.

20, 30, 40 years from now, I hope they say, “Our life was not always easy, but it was one of faithfulness and obedience, and we enjoyed each other and did it together.”

No related posts.

Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: parenthood, posts I can't really tag

Bye Bye Beebs

9.17.17

He’s been here from almost the very beginning. Married only a few months, Mark surrendered to my begging for an animal and we brought home a teeny calico kitten we named Mojo. A few days later, he surrendered to my begging for a brother for Mojo. I spent more than a typical amount of time overthinking which kitten would become the buddy she needed. A little black and white cat who looked like he turned his head right when God was painting his face came home with us and became our Bebo.

The two of them were my companions when my arms were empty. Bebo was our comedic relief as he tried to be Mojo’s BFF, attacked our covers every morning when we made the bed, and howled like a newborn baby every time we were on the phone. They welcomed our three babies home from the hospital, sneaking into the drawer under their crib for naps. At 12 years old, they adjusted when yet another little one came home a bigger size (and more than a bit faster on her feet!) than the other babies were they arrived. Even as oldies, they didn’t get mad when another family moved in with us for a while. They were quite content to invite themselves to permanently move into Evan’s room where they knew they’d not only get quiet but they’d get a lot of attention from someone who also likes quiet. They may or may not have even learned some new tricks, behaving kindly when little Chinese boys pointed at them and said, “be obedient!” in Mandarin.

Mojo was the first girl to break Evan’s heart when she died in his arms last spring. At some point, soon after Lydia came home, she very clearly transitioned from being our cat to being his cat. When he was home, she was beside him. I didn’t write about it here when she died. His heart hurt so badly and missed her so much, I felt like writing about it all here would somehow hurt him more.

Bebo stepped up after Mojo died, getting a little more snuggly with Evan as if he knew that Evan needed him. He held in there long after we thought he would. 18 1/2 years he was with us. From the spring of 1999 when he was a tiny furball until yesterday when it became very clear that he was  finished. He left his favorite spots in Evan’s room and climbed up the attic bedroom stairs and laid down on Ashlyn’s bed for a while. Then, he joined us in the living room while the kids and I watched some tv, curling up on Evan’s lap for a little while.

The kids helped me place him gently in a carrier when it was time for me to take him to the vet. They were so sweet in their sadness, knowing they needed to help me in mine as Daddy is on the other side of the world. I stayed with him while he fell gently to sleep and then cried like a lunatic at the vet’s office in an empty waiting room.

Mojo was a good cat…actually, the perfect cat for Evan. She was made for him, and I couldn’t love her and the God who made her anymore because of it. Bebo? He was a silly cat, always doing something weird, always the subject of Daddy’s silly songs. But, we adored him nonetheless because he was ours.

They will forever be part of our family’s story.

No related posts.

Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: parenthood

No words are needed

3.28.15

Gotcha Day Tradition

5 years.

5 years our daughter.

5 years a family.

5 years into this adventure of life hand in hand.

5 years into being the mother of this child who continues to amaze me and be a tool in His hand to sanctify me.

I can barely remember life before this day 5 years ago.

No related posts.

Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, adoption journey, Lydia, parenthood, why can't they just stay little forever

Spicing it up

11.7.14

Remember that time you gathered your things and tiptoed out of the back of a classroom hoping no one would notice because you discovered you were in the wrong class?

Sit back down. You aren’t in the wrong place. This is not the typical post you find here, but it’s written for you.

It was September 26th 16 years ago that we gazed into each others’ eyes and promised to love each other until death do us part. The vow hardly seemed necessary because at that moment, seemingly nothing could make us part. We couldn’t get enough of each other. Four children, career changes, lots of bills, an adoption and more than a handful of grey hairs later, our googly eyes can see things a bit more clearly. We now know that this thing called marriage that we thought was the most natural thing in the world for us to do is really, really hard. The toothpaste on the sink and socks on the floor have nothing on the pressure that parenting challenging children can put on our relationship. When our buttons are pushed and we’re so exhausted that we can hardly hold a cohesive conversation at the end of the day, those early years of marriage (and all the excitement of them) seem like a very long time ago. Parenting, especially intentional parenting of children from hard places, has a way of magnifying all things ick in our lives. And, sisters, that can put out the fire faster than a six year old in front of a birthday cake.

We committed to be husband and wife until death do us part, not children do us part. I’ve learned a few things lately as I’ve dug my heels in here in this partnership.

  • Don’t be content in a rut. There have been times I’ve thought my expectations were simply too high and that I needed to just learn to be okay with where we were. When I find myself hearing those words in my head, I know I’m headed in the wrong direction. Being content with being disconnected may seem like like the right thing to do, but it breeds passivity that is relationally destructive. If things are not where they should be, that’s okay. But, I know we can’t stay there.
  • Make room for each other. There was a time that we only had room for each other. But, four kids take up a lot of room. Attachment takes up a lot of room. If I spent as much time considering our attachment as I did my daughter’s attachment, things would look a lot different. Now, that room, that space in our hearts and in our minds and in our days isn’t going to happen unless we make it happen. We have to plan out time for each other and be willing to put other things aside to be with each other and consider each other even if it feels sorta awkward because it’s been too long since we did or even if our to-do list is still mocking us. If we don’t put things down and intentionally look up at each other for a little bit, we are going to be in a perpetual disconnect that looks a lot like that broken attachment cycle we know all about.
  • Be bold in sharing exactly what you need. Maybe he knew my every thought early on; but, even Prince Charming is not a mind reader. I cannot assume that because he isn’t giving me what I need that he doesn’t want to. He may just not know what it is that I do need. And, it is not fair for me to hold it against him that he doesn’t. I have been learning to ask him how I can love him better and be bold in telling him how he can love me better. I don’t say it with judgment against him; I say it more with the underlying message of, “I know you love me but I think I’d be able to know that more readily and feel it more fully if you _________.” Sometimes it amazes me that after so many years of living in the same home and sleeping side by side that we can both still be learning how to love each other better. But, I guess it shouldn’t amaze me because we need different things in different seasons. As things change, I know we need to grow with each other and fight against growing away from each other.
  • Be willing to initiate. I am really good at complaining and feeling slighted when I feel like my husband is not paying enough attention to me while being completely unwilling to initiate something to pay attention to him. I have learned that he may not be moving towards me because I’m consistently unintentionally sending him the message that I want to be left alone. When I take the initiative to write him a note, send him a text to say I’m missing him, make some sort of move towards him instead of isolating myself, things change. I want to be together and I want to be connected; I need to be willing to initiate some sort of closeness to him physically or otherwise to make that happen. It doesn’t all rest on him. Specifically with regards to the spicy kind of initiation, when I’m really not feeling it, I pray for something to change within me, for whatever walls that are there to come down, for the energy I need, for the ability to focus and feel. He honors those prayers. And for those of you familiar with all the brain chemistry stuff from all those adoption books you’ve been reading, check this out: sex gets your oxytocin, serotonin, and dopamine flowing which not only makes you feel happy but also increases your desire for more connection both physically and otherwise. The way He’s created us makes sex meet our needs. Yeah, just do it applies here.
  • Remember what was without bemoaning what is. Our 7th grade son came home with some interview questions he had to ask us for a mysterious class called “family sciences.” “How did having children impact your finances? your time? your career? your friendships?” He didn’t think he’d get full credit if he only wrote: [insert laughter here]. Children changed everything. We had found our new normal with three children and then we brought home our youngest from China, and everything changed all over again. Things we did before, we couldn’t do anymore. Before our daughter from China came home, we had this awesome deal with another couple with kids the same ages as ours. One weekend, they’d take our three for a big sleepover. Another weekend, we’d have our three and theirs for a sleepover. After we adopted, that deal was over; we couldn’t leave her. We learned that we  had to capture the spirit of what we used to enjoy within the context of our new normal. Rather than trying to do it the exact same way and being disappointed and discouraged that it’ll never be the same which could lead me into a pattern of “what ifs,” we learned that we need to do things differently but in a way that engages what it was that we did enjoy and then be in the moment and simply enjoy it even though it looks different.
  • Share but don’t overshare. I have a few kindred-spirited friends who hold each other accountable to how we’re loving our husbands. We are willing to ask each other harder questions (Are you making room for your husband in all the busyness? Are you being bold with him? Are you initiating relationally? physically?). We answer while never disparaging our spouses or sharing anything that would dishonor them. We take a break from talking about discipline and kids’ sales and food issues and getting little ones to sleep and encourage each other to be intentional wives.

We are their forever families, yes. But, Lord willing, those children will one day leave our homes to have homes of their own. And, when they do, I want the two of us to still be standing here, forever side by side, hand in hand, with grey hair and laugh lines with a love for each other that is way deeper than I thought it would be when we took those vows back when he and me became we.

I’m glad you didn’t sneak out the back door.

 

No related posts.

Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Mark, parenthood

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • …
  • 6
  • Next Page »

Hello

I overthink everything. This blog is a prime example. Make yourself a cup of coffee and sit down for a read. Actually, make that a pot of coffee. There’s a lot of overthinking here.

Connect

Recent Posts

She’s come a long way

Gift ideas for a happy-China-traveler-to-be

Three gifts.

A letter to my friend on her adoption eve

The day my husband quit his job {reflections 5 years later}

Subscribe to keep up to date via a newsletter

Archives

Popular Posts

  • The day we met Lydia in Xi'an
  • Getting the attachment thing
  • The day my husband quit his job
  • Other places you can find my writing

Follow Along!

Categories

Recent Posts

She’s come a long way

Gift ideas for a happy-China-traveler-to-be

Copyright © 2015 | Design by Dinosaur Stew