Wednesday, May 25, 2011
It's hard to know if our choices are ever the right ones. It's only after we've made them that we can have the 20/20 hindsight and understand what we might or might not have done differently. I don't live with regrets but sometimes wonder if I could have taken a different path.
As I've been blogging, we plan to file adoption paperwork this year, and it's looking more and more like it will be this fall shortly after we return home from our trip to Ireland. Frankly, the closer we get, the more terrified I become. Am I making the right decision? Are we going to regret giving up our freedom to become parents? What if I have to give up the travel I love so much? Can we really afford another person in our household?
Most of those questions are the voice of fear. I know this deep down in my soul. But that doesn't make the little niggling doubts go away.
One of the biggest concerns for me is how to fund the adoption. Yes, I know you can do fundraisers and bake sales and car washes and... However, even with all of that, there are no guarantees. The good news is we know how to save. We know how to do a budget. We know how to create a plan. The bad news is money doesn't grow on trees. It has to come from somewhere, which means making some sacrifices on our part. On the one hand, I know it's totally worth whatever sacrifice we need to make to bring our kid home. But the other part of my brain is screaming at me, "Don't do it! Don't! What if you regret it? What if this is the biggest mistake of your life?"
The truth is we probably won't have kids any other way. With my health issues and Will's unwillingness to risk my vision with a pregnancy, adoption or no children at all are our options. We don't want to be "old" parents, either, meaning we want to have the kids out of the house by the time we're somewhere in the 50–55 age range. We also realize we want to leave a legacy. After all, what's the purpose in building wealth and preparing for a future if there's no one to share it with down the line in the family tree?
I've been told every parent-to-be has these doubts, these worries, this apprehension and anxiety. Will has promised me we'll continue our travels, and we'll introduce our kid(s) to the world. When I imagine it, I smile. The fear, though...it's always there.
As I've been blogging, we plan to file adoption paperwork this year, and it's looking more and more like it will be this fall shortly after we return home from our trip to Ireland. Frankly, the closer we get, the more terrified I become. Am I making the right decision? Are we going to regret giving up our freedom to become parents? What if I have to give up the travel I love so much? Can we really afford another person in our household?
Most of those questions are the voice of fear. I know this deep down in my soul. But that doesn't make the little niggling doubts go away.
One of the biggest concerns for me is how to fund the adoption. Yes, I know you can do fundraisers and bake sales and car washes and... However, even with all of that, there are no guarantees. The good news is we know how to save. We know how to do a budget. We know how to create a plan. The bad news is money doesn't grow on trees. It has to come from somewhere, which means making some sacrifices on our part. On the one hand, I know it's totally worth whatever sacrifice we need to make to bring our kid home. But the other part of my brain is screaming at me, "Don't do it! Don't! What if you regret it? What if this is the biggest mistake of your life?"
The truth is we probably won't have kids any other way. With my health issues and Will's unwillingness to risk my vision with a pregnancy, adoption or no children at all are our options. We don't want to be "old" parents, either, meaning we want to have the kids out of the house by the time we're somewhere in the 50–55 age range. We also realize we want to leave a legacy. After all, what's the purpose in building wealth and preparing for a future if there's no one to share it with down the line in the family tree?
I've been told every parent-to-be has these doubts, these worries, this apprehension and anxiety. Will has promised me we'll continue our travels, and we'll introduce our kid(s) to the world. When I imagine it, I smile. The fear, though...it's always there.
Monday, May 23, 2011
When we travel, we try to become like the locals. We eschew the typical American fast food joints like McDonald's, preferring to hit up a café or pub or street vendor instead. We talk to the locals, learning about the sites we shouldn't miss visiting or something off the beaten path most people miss. Usually, this method pays off in one way or another. We end up having a travel experience we can share and laugh about months or even years later.I never want to be seen as a "tourist." My goal in traveling is to truly experience another part of the world the way those who live there experience. I want to soak in the culture, the vibe, and the surroundings with the eyes of someone who can appreciate what she's seeing—not just checking a place off her to-see list. That isn't to say I don't have a to-see list; it just means that I want to feel as though I live there rather than hitting all of the "must dos." We often skip those "must dos," instead driving along a forgotten road to stumble across a ruin of some sort, like the time we discovered the Notre Dame de Gratemoine in France. Or last year when we were strolling through downtown Ketchum when we walked right into the Ketchum Farmers Market.
This year, when we travel to Ireland, I'm looking forward to becoming a local for a couple of weeks. And in my research, I've found a festival I think Will and I are going to check out taking place only a few miles from our rental cottage. It's called the Dingle Regatta, and after the traditional naomhóg race is over, the town celebrates. It's a great opportunity to mingle and learn more about the culture of the area. It's one of my favorite ways to spend a vacation, and I'm counting down the days!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Image by Kodamakitty via FlickrWriting has been my passion for many years. I started as a teenager, and I've written off and on since then. When I haven't been writing, I've been living...meaning life hasn't always coincided with my writing. Rather, it hasn't until I made it a priority.The last few weeks have been rough on me both emotionally, physically, and financially. Financially, we've been juggling several goals, and I've been driving myself nuts trying to figure out how we'll meet them all. We will, but it means buckling down on the budget a little bit more. Fine. Okay. We can handle that. Physically, I've been sick this week, but I've been doing a fairly good job of working out three times a week and losing a little bit of weight in the process. Emotionally? My uncle just died. It's drained me, and tomorrow, I get to make a long drive twice in one day for his funeral. I'm getting up at 4:00 A.M., and I am not a morning person. Repeat, not a morning person.
With all of the combined life events happening seemingly all at once and conspiring to take over my world, that's left little time for writing. And when I have had time to write, my mind just won't go there. In a way, I feel as though I'm sabotaging myself. I've written two complete novels (one of which will never see the light of day), and queries were going well...until I stopped querying. I seem to have lost some vital steam in the process, and I'm not sure how to get it back exactly. When I get home in the evenings, all I really want to think about is the budget, do some reading, work out, and head straight to bed. It's probably not healthy considering writing is a huge outlet for me. That said, though, thinking about happy characters falling in love on the page just hasn't been in me lately. Maybe it's my brain telling me I need to take a break. I don't know, but whatever the problem is, it makes me feel like a fraud. When I say I'm a writer, if I'm having trouble writing, does that make me a fraud? Am I lying to myself? And I'm so happy for all the successes of my writer friends happening all around me. I can't help but think that if I'd just work a little harder, push a little harder, it could happen for me, too. Where did my energy go? Where is the pit bull tenacity that so defines who I am as a person?
Over this past weekend, while I was down sick, I did manage to write 2,200 words on the contemporary novel I've been working on. I'm still not happy with the direction it's going, and I can't seem to move past chapter three without rewrites. I think I'm just going to have to decide revisions can come later and put the words down on paper. The lingering self-doubt isn't getting me anywhere.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Have you ever driven on the other side of the road? No? Neither have I. Guess what? Yours truly—the driver whom coworkers shudder in fear at riding with—is going to drive on the other side of the road.In 2009, when Will and I traveled to the U.K., we had an interesting situation on our hands. Neither one of us knew how to drive on the left side of the road. But being the adventurous travelers we've always been, we rented a car anyway, and Will took on the task of driving. And it was a manual transmission no less. Impressed yet? So not only was Will driving on the left side of the road, but the steering wheel was on what we knew as the passenger side of the vehicle. The pedals were in the same order, but the shifter was on the left side of the driver instead of the right side. Oh, boy. (The above photo is the interior of the type of car we rented: a Volkswagen Scirocco).
I've gotta hand it to my hubby. When the chips were down, he conquered driving on the wrong side of the road with aplomb. (Thanks, Gran Turismo.) We only had one minor hairy experience in Wales just outside of Cardiff when he made a turn and started driving on the right side of the road instead of the left. He quickly corrected, and we didn't have any further problems despite having to navigate our way out of London and into Manchester. Whew!
So this time, the notoriously fearless driver in the family is adding herself to the list of drivers for the rental car in Ireland. I didn't try it last time. Call me a chicken, but shifting with my left hand didn't much appeal to me. Still, after giving it some thought, I decided that if Will wanted to enjoy some of the famous Irish beer on this trip, I was going to have to suck it up and offer to do some of the driving.
Heh. We should have some, um, interesting stories when we return from the trip.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
It isn't easy to experience a death in the family. But it's particularly hard when that person has made a significant impact on your life.
Last night, my Uncle Leonard was mowing the yard when he passed away unexpectedly from an apparent massive heart attack. He was in his early 60s and by all appearances, healthy. My aunt (my mom's sister) is devastated. They had a long marriage of 36 years, and they relied on one another for just about everything. Today, I find myself with a heavy heart for his loss as well. Obviously, he's been around my entire life. But the biggest impact Leonard made on me was when he and my aunt took me under their wing when I graduated from college in 2004. He helped me get my first position out of college, and they offered to let me stay with them as long as I needed to while I got settled in my new city. I took them up on it, and I had a great time getting to know my aunt and uncle a little bit better.
Leonard was generous in other ways, too. He and my aunt often remembered my mother on her birthday by driving down to my hometown to take her to lunch or sending her flowers. They've spent more than one Thanksgiving dinner with her when our own family dinner was scheduled for a later date. When he traveled for work, he remembered to bring home some little trinket or piece of jewelry my mom might enjoy and surprised her with it when he saw her again.
It is not what someone says that gets remembered after he's gone; it's his actions. Leonard will be remembered by many, many people for his kind and generous actions toward others. A large gap is left in our family with his death, and I can't imagine what the family picture will look like from here. I do know God has gained a good soul in Heaven, and I can only hope Leonard is looking down upon all of us and seeing how much of an impact he really had while he was with us.
Rest in peace, Leonard. You were and are loved.
Last night, my Uncle Leonard was mowing the yard when he passed away unexpectedly from an apparent massive heart attack. He was in his early 60s and by all appearances, healthy. My aunt (my mom's sister) is devastated. They had a long marriage of 36 years, and they relied on one another for just about everything. Today, I find myself with a heavy heart for his loss as well. Obviously, he's been around my entire life. But the biggest impact Leonard made on me was when he and my aunt took me under their wing when I graduated from college in 2004. He helped me get my first position out of college, and they offered to let me stay with them as long as I needed to while I got settled in my new city. I took them up on it, and I had a great time getting to know my aunt and uncle a little bit better.
Leonard was generous in other ways, too. He and my aunt often remembered my mother on her birthday by driving down to my hometown to take her to lunch or sending her flowers. They've spent more than one Thanksgiving dinner with her when our own family dinner was scheduled for a later date. When he traveled for work, he remembered to bring home some little trinket or piece of jewelry my mom might enjoy and surprised her with it when he saw her again.
It is not what someone says that gets remembered after he's gone; it's his actions. Leonard will be remembered by many, many people for his kind and generous actions toward others. A large gap is left in our family with his death, and I can't imagine what the family picture will look like from here. I do know God has gained a good soul in Heaven, and I can only hope Leonard is looking down upon all of us and seeing how much of an impact he really had while he was with us.
Rest in peace, Leonard. You were and are loved.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Image by scribbletaylor via FlickrI haven't blogged lately because, frankly, life is a bit crazy. Will is in the middle of finals, tuition is coming due for his summer classes, I've been completely immersed in planning our Ireland vacation, dealing with some family issues, we both need major car maintenance (think timing belts), and we're trying to figure out how to pay for an adoption. Writing has, sadly, fallen to the back burner temporarily. With my head traveling in so many different directions, it's hard to concentrate. So...I haven't done any writing in about three weeks despite the fact that I have a great new idea for my heroine's occupation. It would tie in nicely with the hero's occupation.I'm also considering doing some sort of adoption fundraiser when we get our paperwork started. Most likely, it will all be online if we decide to do it. Honestly, with our opposite schedules, it's going to be too difficult to do it any other way. I've been holding off on the paperwork because so much life has hit us, but we're in agreement that we'll file it when we return from Ireland late this summer. Hopefully, by that time, some of the up-in-the-airness of our lives will have settled down and we can get back to some semblance of normal. Because, the truth is, as much as I've balked at starting a family, now that I'm ready, I just want to get this show on the road. It's hard to feel like we're in limbo. And every time I see a family with an adopted Asian child, I sigh with a bit of jealousy...because I want it to be us.
I know life isn't on hold, but sometimes it can feel that way. I guess I just have to find a way to break the great big logjam.
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