Thank God I'm a Country Boy

Thank God I'm a Country Boy - John Denver

Thank God I'm a Country Boy Girl.  Technically, I'm not country at all.  It makes for a good blog title, no?

 (Read in valley girl voice) Like, I'm from Plano, so, I don't know about country things, or country ways, but you can ask my mom, 'cause like, she grew up on a farm.  If she doesn't know, we can call my Grandpa, and he'll know for sure.

When I was a teenager, I jumped at the chance to go with my cousins to feed their pigs.  Their farm experiences were so different from my own in Plano.  (This was also the first time I drove down a dirt road, in a truck, without power steering.  Apparently, you're not supposed to do 80 m.p.h, down a dirt road.  Something about it being dangerous?)

Saturday, my friend and I took our kids to R & C Dairy and Farmstead.  We picked strawberries and blackberries.  We had a great time.  Now, I don't want this to be my daily job, but definitely once a year!  It was so peaceful.  The boys had a BLAST.. We were filthy afterwards, but it was worth it.  The berries?  Freakin' DELISH!!  I didn't know (some) blackberry bushes have thorns.  We didn't bring gloves, so we toughed it out, reaching for the berries with ninja precision.

Let's discuss John Denver for a moment:  I love John Denver, and I'm not ashamed.  That's right, I said it!  Is it because he performed with the Muppets?  Partly, but mainly because his songs are linked to great memories.  My cousins and I would chasse (sha-say) in a circle holding hands to Thank God I'm a Country Boy and Grandma's Feather bed.  My grandma would smile with bated breath, trying to enjoy the moments of childhood delight, and not think about the china that was also jumping in her china cabinet.  No china was ever harmed during one of these hootenannies, and to this day, it makes us cousins smile.

During my grandma's funeral, I watched cousin Denny's wife Shirley walk up to a boom box and push play.  I'm drained emotionally, wondering what song had been left out of Grandma's service?  Then it happened: John Denver's Grandma's Feather Bed came over the speaker, and I couldn't help but bust out laughing.  Next thing you know, all of us cousins were laughing at a funeral. I think it's exactly how Grandma would've wanted it.

We got the farm information from this website:  PickYourOwn.org

Here's a few pictures from our berry (ba-dum-bum) fun adventure.

Liam picking the goods.

Showing off his 'perfectly shaped' strawberry.

Showing off his goods.

In the blackberry bushes, right before the batteries died.

Last night, J & I put the berries on our ice cream... it was heavenly.

Not Ready to Make Nice

Not Ready to Make Nice - Dixie Chicks

I've debated and debated whether to post this or not.
I'm just going for it.
These thoughts have been boiling for some time now, and while I'm afraid of what I might say, i'm equally afraid of keeping it inside.
Is it possible for this to come back and bite me?
Absolutely, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

I spent April on edge.  While our month of April was gorgeous, it's been a long time since I've felt so ugly on the inside.  I made the best of it, trying to work out anger and frustrations on my flower beds; digging holes, and pulling weeds.  I just wanted to get through my birthday.

I made it through April.  I was more defensive, and more sensitive than usual.  I let those close to me, know the thoughts behind the actions.  I didn't handle some things, as I normally would've, but at least I was aware of the reasons behind it.
I've always wanted to love my birthday, but most years, I dread it.  It's not for the reasons you might think.  It's not because it brings back sour memories of the time a boyfriend cheated on me on my birthday.  Devestating to a 16 year old, a big fat whatever now.  It's ALSO not because I'm getting older.  I could care less about my age.  I've earned every scar and (although faint) laugh line.

It's because (in my mind) it's a day someone (my birthmother) wishes she could forget.  I spend the majority of my birthdays wondering if she was thinking of me or did she spend the day trying to forget?  I don't know these thoughts to be true, but without confirmation one way or another, they were true in my mind.

More specifically, I spent wasted so much of my life trying to be perfect.  Not because I'm type A, ultra competative, but because I told myself I had to; so I would be worthy of my (adoptive) parents love.  I thought, I have to be perfect, and maybe if I'm perfect enough, then, someday, my birth mother will want to know me, and then I will be worthy.  You can imagine the continual frustration when I came up short (in my mind).  That continual frustration from my lack of perfection morphed into self loathing.  I hated myself, that I couldn't be the perfect, pretty, high achieving daughter they deserved.   In no way, shape or form, did my parents (adoptive) hold these standards.  They (standards of perfection) were twisted thoughts created in my own sick little head.  I didn't think it was possible for my parents or my husband to love me, because eventually they were going to find out what fraud I was.  I was confident their love was out of pity.  They loved me out of obligation, rather their own free will.

Let me also preface: my parents have never been anything but unconditionally loving and accepting of me, in all aspects of my life.  My mom KNOWS beyond a shadow of a doubt, God specifically picked me for her and my dad - and I believe it too.  Jeremy has shown his strength time and time again.  I haven't always made it easy, but I knew if I could get past these thoughts, I could be the person I wanted to be.

Another thing: I'm angry.  I'm angry I wasted so much time hating myself, instead of enjoying life and the people around me, that love me unconditionally.  I'm angry I put so much of my self worth and beliefs in someone I've never met.  I'm angry and hurt that she doesn't want to know me.  I'm angry that I'm her dirty little secret.  - because I'm here.  Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, I'm here.  I'm not going anywhere.  I'm going to live my life, and tell my story.  I will no longer apologize for my existence.

Postscript:
In no uncertain terms, am I seeking sympathy OR compliments.  These are feelings I'm tired of holding onto.  I don't want them anymore.  I'm putting them away,  I don't want to feel this way anymore, and MOST days I don't.  With grief, you have good days and bad.  Like any loss, adoption is a loss too.

I've reached this angry phrase, and haven't enjoyed my time here.  Any time spent here in anger, is merely another step in the right direction.  I know it was just a phase, and I'm determined this past birthday will be the last one spent with anxiety.

Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree

Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree - The Andrews Sisters

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me,

with anyone else but me, 

with anyone else but me

no no no, Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me, 'til I come marching home."

Our neighbor's tree fell.  Quite a tall tree, maybe 30 - 40 feet?

Thank God it landed towards the street.

Is that root rot? I don't know.

Front Row Joes watching the city employee.
Good, wholesome entertainment.

Our neighbor's tree fell.  Neither the boys, nor I heard it.  So, if a tree falls in a neighborhood, and the neighbors are inside their house, i guess the tree DOESN'T make a noise.


Mom & I's unproved, somewhat educated theory: the tree fell due to last summer's drought and water restrictions. 


somewhat unrelated side note: I love swing music (referring to today's blog title).  I swear, I was born in the wrong era, but then again, I'm very appreciative of today's luxuries (air conditioning, power steering, and some synthetic fabrics.) 

Songbird

Songbird - Oasis

This school year, I declared the boys were having 'good old fashion birthday parties at home'.  We would play games, run around, open presents, and have cupcakes.  I refuse to participate each year trying to top the last.  That's just me...

So, we sent out evites, without even having a theme (gasp!)

Then, we got a new tv.  What does that have to do with the birthday party?  Thought you'd never ask.  I was having a bad day, and I wanted to kick the box.  I didn't - BUT it got my wheels turning.  My boys LOVE playing angry birds on our iphones.  What about a 'live action' Angry Birds game?  We could stack the boxes up and kick balls to try to knock the boxes down.  Next thing you know, we're having an angry birds party.

So, a trip to Target and $15 later, Angry Birds: live action game had been born. (I got those big bouncy balls from the wire bins ~ 2.99 each)

We set the boxes up on some boards so they would be steadied.  Then J re-arranged them for each kid.  They got 3 kicks (or so) during their turn.  ELEVEN of these six/seven year olds waited IN LINE patiently for their turn.  They had a blast rooting each other on, 

If I had more time, and wanting it to look pretty on Pinterest, I would've painted the boxes brown, blue and gray, but the kids didn't seem to mind, so neither did I.

Select the link for a YouTube video of the game in action

One of J's intricate box combinations.

Another 'good old fashioned birthday party game'

Pin the tail on the donkey, er, rather pin the beak on the Angry Bird.

I bought a red poster board, traced an outline of the bird.  Used  yogurt lids for the eye cut out, a bottle for the pupils, orange and brown for the rest of the bird.  We used duck tape to 'pin' the beak.
Next, blind fold the kid, and let them go.

Easy, fun, and has made a nice 'door' decoration since the party

Here's the birthday boy/Pig

Gotta love a party with a Pinata!

The party was a success by 7 year old party goers. those are the only opinions that count, right?

When Doves Cry

"This is what it sounds like, when doves cry." - Prince

My Christmas centerpiece lantern, has been re-purposed as a bird feeder.  It took the birds a while to figure out how to land and feed.  The squirrels figured it out first - go figure.  Guess word got out among the birds, because we have a pair of doves that hang out too.  I didn't think they would be able to fit inside the lantern, but apparently it's true what they say: Where there's a will, there's a way.