Friday, February 8, 2013

My Bro Joe

I come from a family of ten; eight kids, two parents and more pets throughout the years than I can count or even remember.  These pets include but are not limited to a cat named Heidi (who it turned out was a male cat, even though the vet swore he was a she), an exploding hamster, a tragically fated chick that thought I was its mother (until our dog got a hankering for chicken wings and ate it),  a guinea pig that was best friends with the transgender cat, a shopping dog (for real she would slip her collar and go wandering around all the shops downtown.  The shop owners more than once brought her back to us once she maxed out the credit card;)....the list goes on and on.  Yeah, we had a really full and crazy life.

I am the oldest of all the siblings, this of course meant I had all kinds of fun bossing the rest of the underlings (ummm I mean sweet, wonderful siblings of mine) around.  I was the twisted sister who wrote and directed plays.  My brothers and sisters were the unwilling stars of said productions.  They were masterpieces, I'm sure you'll be hearing of one on Broadway soon (didn't I mention I made them all sing too?;)  My idea of a good time, was pretending to be their teacher and forcing them to do actual school work. I had tons of fun and they were better educated for my effort (patting myself on the back).  Then, there was the time my sister, Jennifer, cracked her head open on our door jam while dancing.  My siblings love to tell how I "comforted" them by reading them everything Encyclopedia Britannica had to say about head injuries.  What can I say, I was just awesome that way.
My parents were more than a bit crunchy when I was little.  They made their own tofu, we did the all natural thing way before it was popular, we were home schooled for a while and my mom birthed the first five of us at home ( yeah majorly granola, loveyoumeanit Mom and Dad).  I especially remember the birth of my brother Joe because I was there for it.  
Joe was a beautiful baby, with great big brown eyes and straight, blond hair.  From birth on, Joe had all the ladies wrapped around his little finger;)  Joe is the fourth child in our little family of eight but he is the oldest boy.  That's right, my parents were smart and had all three girls straight off the bat.  Joe made an excellent living doll for us;)  However, Joe wasn't having any of that! He put in an order for some more brothers,ASAP! And boy did he get his wish, four more boys, one by one, entered our world (and I wouldn't trade a single one of them).  
Joe, like the rest of us, is all grown up now.  He has grown into a man of character, faith and integrity   He married his high school sweetheart, Stephanie, who is the perfect wife for him.  I love her to death :)  They have three beautiful babies of their own: Elijah, Abigail and Asher.  Today my brother Joe is graduating from the MD State Police Academy.  I am so very proud of him for his accomplishment but I am more proud of him and Stephanie for their journey to get here.  It wasn't easy and they both made big sacrifices, and that is only the part that I know.  I am sure there is more that I don't know about.  Yet, they held on to the dream, their faith and each other and made it through. 
I can't be there in person to hug them and wish them the very best in this next phase of their lives, so I am doing the next best thing. Congratulations Joe and Stephanie!!!  

Friday, February 1, 2013

My Fundraising Policy

  I feel it coming in my bones, the same way arthritic joints feel the coming of a storm, and I start to prepare myself.  Once it hits, it hits hard and hangs around for almost a month.  But I am strong, it has not defeated me yet.  I anchor fast my checkbook, tether my debit card to my wallet and wait.  Then it hits with a fury, five boys come barreling into the house waving big packets, feverishly talking over each other, their  darting eyes glassy ,as if they have been drugged. It is here, Fundraiser Season.


I refuse to participate in school /extra curricular fundraisers.   I know this makes me a terrible, uninvolved parent but as a good friend of mine says, sorry I have a policy on this.  Today I will give you the top five reasons that I will not sell crap or solicit pledges or jump through flaming hoops.

1) I have five children.  That means all my friends and relatives are getting hit up not once, not twice, not three or four times, but FIVE times.  This crosses the line from manipulative fundraising to racketeering.  I'm not willing to risk a conviction under RICO.

2) After every fundraiser pep rally, I have to deprogram my children, like they were in a cult.  They come home looking like they are on crack, raving about the free TV, or new bike, or million dollars they are going to "win" if they only sell $12,000 dollars worth of crap or get 150 pledges or jump rope 6,500 times.  After all, these are totally achievable goals for your average eight year old.  Ri-ight.

3) I did not send my children to school to be turned into Flim-Flam-Men.  I will support my boys in whatever legit career they so choose.  Hitting up friends and relatives for money are the skills needed to be jobless and living in mom's basement, playing video games, at 25 years old.  Since I don't have a basement, my boys are in need of a different skills set.

4) I will not be manipulated or guilt-ed into anything.  These fundraising programs work by manipulating children with unachievable prizes and loud rhetoric and/or guilting parents into spending time and money they don't necessarily have.   Let's be honest here, it isn't the kids that are doing most of the "work" involved in raising this support.  They can't sell at school and it is dangerous for them to go door to door.  This is just a way to rope mom or dad into becoming a biannual sales rep without having to pay them.

5) I do believe in supporting things that I feel are important.  If you want my support just ask me and
I will write you a check.  This saves us all a whole lot of frustration.




Thursday, January 31, 2013

A Glimpse of Red

Today, as I was cleaning the dishes, I had a brief moment of pure joy.  I could claim it was the selfless act of scrubbing dirty, nasty dishes for my sweet, adoring family that caused my smile but alas I am not a good enough liar to feign such piety.  Nope, it was one insignificant thing that made me smile, I caught a glimpse of red through the bubbles as I scrubbed the offending crock pot clean. I lifted my hands out of the wash water and took a moment to admire my sudsy hands tipped with shiny, fire brick red nails.
 I am the lone woman surviving in this house of 6 males.....actually 8 males, if you count the cats (and believe me you SHOULD count those little spawns of Satan, errr I mean cute, furry bundles of joy).   Finding a place in our lives for me to experience the pure, simple joys of being a woman is difficult to say the least but that does not change the fact: I love being female.  I love all the wonderful things that go along with being female.  I love silk and lace and perfume  and lotion, and make-up and high heels and jewelry and  fire brick red painted finger and toe nails.  I love laughing until tears fall down my face at insignificant things with my girlfriends.   I love crying unashamedly in moves and TV shows.  I even like the soothing ritual of applying wrinkle cream (I loathe the need for wrinkle cream but that ,my dears, is fodder for another blog).  I got down right giddy when my floral print phone cover came in the mail. I mean who wouldn't get excited over that, especially when they saw the center of each flower was blinged out?!?  Okay, my husband and boys thought me a little crazy for being so happy about it but hey what do they know?   I dare say few, if any men, would get excited to have half their eyebrows pulled out of their face using hot wax and little cloth strips the way that I do.  Yup, I love being female.  It is fabulous.
My normal everyday life consist of  video game explosions, super hero movies, debates on which super hero is best ( it's Batman hands down;), Lego's, Mine Craft, zombies, guy food, more guy food, and less than well targeted toilets.  It is nice every once in a while to catch a glimpse of fire brick red fingernails.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

A Glimpse of a S.O.U.S.

You may have noticed my lack of blogging over the past month.  I could claim that it was due to the busyness of the holiday season.  We had a fabulous holiday filled with all kinds of exciting things.  Our friends Rich and Cassandra visited us from Singapore/ China (they are missionaries in China but are based in Singapore), my parents visited us the week of Thanksgiving from Virginia (it is always nice to be surrounded by home during the Thanksgiving),  our son Sam celebrated his 11th birthday (time is flying by so fast), and we celebrated a wonderful, sweet Christmas and New Years with our children.  However, none of these are the reason for my unusual quietness.  This blog gives honest glimpses into our life.  I do not allow myself the luxury of pretense and facade, while still trying to maintain a sense of humor  because of this I am not able to write while in the thick of certain situations.  Some things require time and distance to be able to write about them with any objectivity at all.  Today I am breaking my silence even though we are still in the middle of it all.  This is the next step in my journey of transparency: writing (and posting what I write) while in the midst of the craziness and uncertainty.

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh my!!  This pretty much sums up  December 2012 and so far January 2013.   The past month and a half has been fraught with unexpected, and quite frankly strange, emergencies.   At the beginning of December, I was sent to the ER for an over night stay due to what appeared to be heart problems.  Blessedly it was not my heart, but we found this out after an over night stay in the hospital and multiple tests and procedures over the next week.  Two weeks later, while my husband was cooking breakfast, a pan of oil caught fire.  It was not a minor kitchen fire (it melted the hood above our stove).  My husband received third degree burns on his right hand while bravely putting the fire out.  He is a computer programmer; so his work uses his right hand extensively, meaning he has been out of work for two weeks .  He is healing well and we are blessed that he has a job with good benefits so we are doing fine.  He will ,however, be out of work for another two weeks to convalesce and heal.  Finally, what we thought was my heart was in actuality a flare up of a disorder I have.  This flare up has concerned the Dr enough that he is going to scope and biopsy my esophagus once again on Monday.  This condition can build up scar tissue in the esophagus ,as well as, make the tissue very susceptible to tearing.  For this reason, I am on a very limited diet (think soup or soup like ) until he gets the numbers from my biopsy back.   This is the sum of of the past month for us.......wow it is even more crazy to read it all written down.
Throughout all of these situations we have been blessed by many people praying and caring for us.  A friend brought me to and stayed with me while I was in the hospital, another friend  baked my husband his favorite pie to cheer him up, my husband's co-workers sent him a cookie filled get well basket ( if you know my husband you know he LOVES cookies.  Actually, one of the first disagreements in our marriage revolved around the fact I made cookies to bring to church but did not make him his own dozen.  I now always make sure he has his own half dozen, compromise is everything in marriage ;), and family who have been checking in on us on a regular basis.  I have been overwhelmed with gratitude for each and everyone of you.
Every situation life brings our way can teach us or grow us in some way.  Funnily enough, what I have learned throughout the past month or so is that we are very, very blessed.  Even in the midst of chaos, we have a stability in our lives and in our marriage that was not there for many years.  Sometimes it takes a S.O.U.S. (Situations of Unusual Size ;) to see how far God has brought you.   Through God's grace, we have come a long way, baby!!  That being said, I am ready for a little bit or boring normalcy (well as normal and boring as Skiffdom ever gets;)
I pray each of you had a wonderful holiday season, prayerfully a little less eventful than ours;) Please know I am thankful to each of you who has stood with us through all the craziness.  Lots of love-Kristine

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

My Thank You to My Heroes

When I was a young adult, I had a group of friends from work that I did everything with.  We called ourselves "The Midnight Riders", not all that original but at 18 you think you are a whole lot more original than you actually are.  We never got into trouble but we spent late nights watching movies, eating take-out Chinese food and talking or riding around in Mike's pickup truck, listening to Shania Twain and talking or laying in the snow, looking at the stars and talking ( it would seem we had a lot to say ;).  Of this group of friends, my best friend was Mike.  He and I fought like a brother and sister and stood by each other the same way.  One night (two days before Christmas 1995 to be exact), while I was working at the mall, there was a shooting spree.  Two groups of hotheads started fighting and then began shooting, sending five thousand Christmas shoppers into a panic. One person died and several more were injured.  I was working my way through college at the time and one of my jobs was as a manager at Chick-Fila.  There I was, 18 years old, responsible to keep safe these other kids that worked under me.  I brought down the gate and shoved them all in the back away from danger.  I stood there, praying that nothing bad would happen to any of them.  About an hour or so later there was a loud banging on the back door.  Panicked, I looked through the peep hole and saw my Dad standing on the other side of the door.  To this day I am not sure how he got in, the whole mall was locked down.  I just remember feeling relieved that I was no longer the only person responsible for these kids.  My Dad, my super hero.
After we were given the all clear, Mike came running in the back door.  He had rushed over as soon as he had heard what had happened and eventually found a way to get in the building  to check on me (probably wasn't the brightest move but we were 18, what can I say).  The next day, Christmas Eve, Mike showed up at the store at 6 am to help me clean up the mess we had been forced to leave the night before.   Mike, my true and faithful friend.
Honestly, I have not spent much time thinking about that night all those years ago.  It is one of the those things I just don't dwell on that much. However, this past week has brought it back into sharp focus.  Surprisingly, it isn't the terror or panic I find myself thinking on.  Instead, I find my thoughts coming back to my Dad and my friend. It seems that time does indeed bring healing and perspective.
This night in my life, in no way compares to the horrors of the past week.   I don't begin to pretend to understand what so many families in our country are going through right now.  In all honesty, I can't even talk about it yet.  At my doctors appointment yesterday, a nurse began speaking of the tragedy as she took my vitals.  I abruptly changed the topic. I hope I did not offend her; I simply cannot go there.  I am silently sitting a kind of shiva, grieving for so many that I have never met.
This post is my chance to honor two men who were heroes to me on a night I needed heroes.   So from the bottom of my heart I say, thank you to my dad and to Mike.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

My Top Ten Character Traits for my Children

This year my parents came to for Thanksgiving.  It was so nice to visit, to see my kids getting to know their grandparents a little more.  With 1,400 miles between us we don't get to visit as much as we would like so we endeavor to make these yearly visits memorable.
After my parents left, I began to think of the lessons and priorities my parents installed in me through my growing up years.  This naturally segued into my thoughts on the important lessons and characters traits I am trying to instill in my own children.  I know what I am aiming for but I have never taken the time write it out. There is power in putting words down on paper.  It takes abstract thoughts and ideas and makes them real and tangible.  As a writer, I find that written words have the ultimate power over me, they become a commitment, a vow if you will.  So today I am committing to paper the top ten character traits I am striving to instill in my children.  It is my public commitment to the goals that are already in my heart.

1.  I will teach my boys to love the Lord their God with all the heart, soul and might.  I will teach them that this love is not mere religion but is a relationship, the ultimate love relationship.  I will teach them the importance of loving and knowing scripture.

2. I will teach my boys the importance of patriotism.  I will teach them to honor those who have sacrificed their lives for our freedoms and to thank those who put their lives on the line to continue to protect us.  

3. I will teach my boys the importance of hospitality by being hospitable.  My children will be raised in a home that is loving and open to anyone who wants or needs to be there.

4.  I will teach my boys the importance of working hard and doing a job until it is done correctly.  This is a lesson my parents taught me that has made my life so much easier.

5.  I will teach my boys the importance of enjoying the moment, of valuing the place you are in life rather than  always pushing for the future.  I was always so future minded that I missed out on much of what life was offering me in the moment.  I want my boys to enjoy the now.

6.  I will teach my boys to be charitable, not to make themselves feel better but because the only way to be truly human, is to allow ourselves to feel the suffering of others and do all that is in our power to help.  I want my boys to learn to give without strings or conditions.  A gift is only a gift if it is given freely, with no expectation of repayment.

7.  I will teach my boys to love the music, art and literature.  It is important that the love for these is nurtured and explored.  These things add beauty to our lives, they add texture and color to the minutia of everyday life.

8.  I will share with my boys a love of learning.  I will give them every  educational opportunity that is within my power to give.  I will support their interest and give them the resources to explore them.

9.  I will teach my boys the importance of neuro-diversity.  I will teach them that God made everyone and God does not make mistakes.  That they are each fearfully and wonderfully made.  I will teach them to stand up for neuro-diversity themselves as the grow older.

10.  I will teach them to stand up for what they believe in, even when it is not popular and has a personal cost.  I will teach them that this is the truest test of their character: Can you stand when those around you fall?

And those my friends are the top ten character traits I am working on with my boys and to be honest I am continuing to grow in myself.  I am going to print these and hang them on my wall where I will daily be reminded of my ultimate goals.  I know your goals are probably different than mine but I encourage you to put them down on paper.  Just taking the time to form my thoughts and ideas into words was very enlightening to me.  Some of my top ten surprised even me. -Kristine




Friday, November 30, 2012

A Glimpse of a Wardrobe Malfunction Done Skiff Style

It's 6:56 am.  Things 1-4 are already fed, dressed, on the bus and on their way to school.   Already I have run to the grocery store for lunch supplies and still ran everything like clock work.  Oh yeah, look at me doing my happy dance. Okay it is more like an old woman , arthritic hobble but it is a joyful arthritic hobble. Four down and only one left to go.  Paul comes drearily down the steps at 6:58 and sleepily announces: "Oh yeah Mom, I forgot to tell you yesterday I tore my shoe almost in half playing outside. I'll need new shoes before school."   I look at the clock, 7:03. My happy hobble has ceased.  I look at the offending sneaker, hoping above all things that Paul  (Mr Give Me The Facts and Nothing but the Facts) is somehow exaggerating the extent of damage to his shoe.  No such luck;  the shoe is gone.  No amount of duct tape trauma care is gonna patch it up for even one more day.  7:06 and Paul and I are in the van heading out to buy his fourth pair of new shoes since school started in late August.  Here I must pause and remind you we live in small town TX.  You cannot just run out and buy shoes.  No, the nearest place to buy shoes is 14 miles away.....14 miles not a big deal, unless it is 7:08 and your child has to be at school no later than 8:15.   We hightail it to Walmart (14 miles away).  It is 7:27 when we pull into the parking lot. We rush through Walmart, pick up the first pair of Men size 8's we can find and run for the register (the ONLY register open at 7:35 am). Obviously,we get the cashier who is in training to retain his Guinness World Record as The World's Slowest Cashier.  Five minutes later, five minutes to ring up a pair of shoes.....sigh, and we are break necking it  back to the van.  We pull up in front of Paul's school at 8:07.  I am congratulating myself once more for my complete awesomeness as a mom.  Go me, oh yeah!! Then I notice Paul's jeans as he is getting out of the van.....mustard spattered and ripped and dirty at the bottom......probably the same ones he was wearing when he ripped his shoe.  8:09 my son walks into school, on time, with bright new shoes and mustard spattered, dirty, ripped jeans.  And that my friends is how we rock wardrobe malfunctions here in Skiffland.

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