i can tie my shoes all by myself

i have a confession.

September is our first (real) double-income month since August, 2006, and while it's amazing to have a second income (and an increased clothing budget!) i'm feeling all weird about it.

weird in the sense that this really horrible thing happened to us this year, and now we're going to sit back and enjoy having more money than we know what to do with. what's funny to me about the situation is that it's pretty normal for people our age to have two incomes, to own a home, etc., but i feel like we're just so incredibly lucky to be able to participate in that.

truthfully, we're not going to live on both incomes. we'll ramp up our giving to the church and other organizations we feel need help. we'll save more than we ever have before. we'll pay off a student loan or two. we'll actually have a real emergency fund. and of course, we'll probably eat at our favorite Mexican restaurant more often than we already do. i'll get my tooth fixed that's been broken since December.

while i'm looking forward to all of those things, something doesn't feel right. i'm not sure what it is. i think that in the back of my mind, i'm wondering if it's for real. i'm still worrying about money like i did for the past three years, even though it shouldn't be such a stressful event for me anymore.

i'm sure i'll get over it, and yes, it's a good problem to have, but it's just so weird, and it's coming at such a strange time in our lives. i'd love more than anything to be able to spoil my little baby with our extra money, but that won't be happening. i'll just have to find something else to splurge on. maybe i'll find a hobby. maybe i'll pray about it.

if there were such a thing as the "hold it together" award in my life, i would never win it.

last night, a lovely lady by the name of Shauna Niequist came to Bloomington to talk to the women of our church and community about appreciating the little things in life. and change.

after reading her first book, Cold Tangerines with my mom and sister in a long-distance book club (facilitated mostly by Tina whom always knows how to keep the conversation going) i was totally psyched to see her in person. and, my god. she's good.

it was a great night of fellowship, worship, prayer, and food (not to mention the fact that we were being served by the men of our church and didn't have to lift a finger throughout the whole event). Shauna read a few essays that may be included in her next book and they were amazing. the woman knows how to read aloud.

i sat next to Reid's mom, Toni, and by the end of almost every essay Shauna read, we were both crying like babies. doing the girl thing of pointing at each other with tears in our eyes, mouthing the words, "i know." to each other.

after her reading, Shauna was available to sign books. i waited a few minutes to get into line, not wanting to seem too eager to meet her. i made it up to the table sooner than i expected, and immediately started crying. i think i said something about how much i loved reading her book with my mom and sister, and how my baby died too, and that i felt for her. she was very nice and thanked me for sharing. too nice. i was a blubbering mess! when asked if i wanted her to write a name in the book, i just said, "no, you can just sign it." and walked away.

these kind of situations make me realize how close i still am to Raef's passing. i think that i minimize my grief quite often, not wanting to dwell on it all of the time. one of the things i've realized lately is that if i suppress that grief, and those tears, and all of the frustration building up inside of me, i'm going to miss all of the tiny, important things going on around me. i'm going to miss out on my own life.

apparently, life wasn't meant to be easy. i'm finding that many of the joys of life are hidden in the muck and the mire of our lives. when Raef was born, and we didn't know how long we'd have with him, i saw family members reunite. people who weren't really speaking to each other were now hugging in a hospital hallway. they were sharing a glass of wine and chatting after we paid our respects to that darling child.

that's not to say that seeing people hug and share a meal made me feel better about Raef dying. no. it made me feel better about the rest of life. about the possibilities that are out there, around nearly every corner. it made me think that maybe God hadn't abandoned me totally, he was showing up in my life in ways i'd never expected. sure, i lost something that can never be replaced, but i didn't lose me.

do you have kids?

i encounter this question quite often, and to be honest, my response is different almost every time.

whether i decide to tell the person that yes, i actually do have a child, but he passed away, or no, i don't have children is always a tough decision for me.

if i'm talking to someone whom i respect, but just haven't connected with in a long time, i'll say yes. yes, but he passed away about a month after he was born. i don't usually go into the fact that i knew that there was a serious problem before he was born. i don't tell the person that i was in a lot of physical pain during the last month of my pregnancy and that i don't have fond memories of it. i don't tell the person that i probably did 80% of my mourning before he was born. i usually don't even tell them my son's name. for the record, his name is Raef.

if i'm talking to a total stranger like a PATH caller, i always say no. i don't have children. then i ignore the person when they either lament that children are a lot of work and very expensive these days, or when they express that i'd probably really love to have children if i just tried. god, would i?!

if i'm talking to an acquaintance, i'm more apt to take the same approach as with a total stranger and say no. leave it at that. usually the matter is dropped anyway because other things need to be discussed. like business. business wins every time!

i just don't know the appropriate response. i don't know if i'm just being totally awful by not telling someone the truth, or being totally awful by telling the truth. i almost feel worse when i tell someone that Raef died. i usually end up consoling the other person, trying to diffuse any guilt they may feel about asking the question.

the truth is, i love talking about Raef. he was such an amazing light in my life, and still is in fact. Raef taught me what it meant to love someone unconditionally, totally. i spent so many days, hours, and minutes staring into my son's adorable preemie face that i can't imagine the outcome of my life if i hadn't had the chance to do that. i don't know where i'd be without that experience. i had the gift of 23 glorious, bright, crazy, stressful, painful, joyful NICU days with him. he really did have the cutest face. seriously. i know that if you have kids, you'll disagree with me and that's okay. your kids are cute, but mine sure takes the cake.

and that's that. morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, i am a mother. i just lack the flesh and blood child to prove it to those i don't already know.

if we don't know each other well, or just haven't connected in the past couple of years, i'll let you in on a little insight if you're interested. i blogged almost daily about our experience with Raef here. sometimes i have to go back over the many posts to come to grips with what happened to our family. sometimes it helps.

blogosphere, don't fail me now

news flash!

blogging is a great marketing tool.

today, i sat through an hours worth of someone saying that you have to be blogging if you want to have a good internet presence (and therefore better sales).

while this particular webinar was a little remedial, it was necessary for me because i've been draggin my blogging feet at work for about six months now. i guess i didn't believe that my boss would actually pay me to blog, but i guess i was wrong.

omg. where has this been for the past three years of my work-life? it's been tucked away in my personal sphere afraid to poke its head in and say, "wake up, i'm useful for reasons other than venting about your pathetic life."

in short, we're blogging now. you can find us here. and here.

and hey, if you have any questions about residential real estate, want to buy or sell a home, or just want to chat, give us a call!

pumpkins and city bumpkins

we're growing a giant pumpkin in our backyard.

it's huge already. like, really huge. and orange. and beautiful. and slightly setting on our neighbor's property but they don't care because it's a rental and nobody takes care of the lawn anyhow.

i constantly find myself worrying about the pumpkin. should we cut it off now? should we move it back onto our property? do we let it grow to a hundred pounds? will it rot where it lay? are the seeds going to be any good?

it's a pumpkin for crying out loud. the worst that could happen is that it would rot and we'd have to somehow remove it from the premises.

i think we should take the seeds and plant them in our friends' yards when they're not looking. then one day they'll wake up and have giant 100 lb. pumpkins of their own. and we'd all match. 'cause that's what's important. yeah.

what ever happened to brutality?

i know nothing of it. brutality that is.

tonight, we successfully replaced our kitchen sink, and are running our new portable dishwasher (compliments of Ton & Gar for Reid's graduation).

we don't have to wash our dishes by hand. for the first time in a long time! like, more than two years time.

it helps put things in perspective. having a dishwasher is a total luxury, but to most it's a necessity. if i showed a house to a potential buyer and it didn't have a dishwasher, i'd probably be fired. bad REALTOR!

Reid and i have a lot of luxuries that we take for granted. for example, we've been living just under 200% of the poverty level (according to the United States Department of Health and Human Services) for the last three years, and we haven't really skipped a beat in terms of being able to go out with friends for dinner, or become Wednesday Warriors at Medici. of course, we haven't taken a vacation since our honeymoon but that's like a real luxury. right?

think about it. we don't KNOW hunger. if you're reading this, you're probably sitting on a cushy couch, or you're on a boat, or you're sitting at your cushy job stealing company time. we don't know poverty. we don't know need. what we need is to take a careful look at those around us. what do they need? is it money, food, clothing, Jesus? is it you?

knicknacks and paddywhacks

and hobbies.

i just got off the phone with my dear sister, and probably bff in the entire world, and somehow, we got onto the topic of hobbies. i don't have one.

we went to a counselor right after Raef died, and the counselor asked us what we do for fun. you know, did we have any hobbies? if i remember this day clearly enough, i remember saying something dumb like, "hanging out with friends. hanging out with each other. reading."

our counselor didn't think that those were acceptable hobbies. in the least. "no!" he said, "you need to find something to fill the void left by your dead baby." (he may not have said dead baby, but that's what he would have said if he weren't wearing his counselor hat that day.) and so, we didn't go back. well, we really didn't go back because he suggested that we could really benefit from some of James Dobson's work and proceeded to make crude comments about his own wife/marriage. not the point. moving on.

i haven't given the whole hobby thing much thought until just recently. i think i'm scared that i'll be a first-year-teacher-widow and not know what to do with all of my new found free time. i'll be sitting at home watching the STYLE network, hoping that Reid is sitting in his classroom wishing he were with me. you know, doing hobby things like catching up on LOST or letting me beat him in Dr. Mario (which i actually do beat him at quite often).

i'm also scared about this whole too busy for your wife thing because we're coming out of a really dark time in our lives as a couple, and in our lives in general. nobody thinks that they'll live to see their child die. it's not supposed to happen that way; i'm still having a hard time hearing that everything happens for a reason. needless to say, this is not a time that i want to be set to the task of finding out what makes me happy. i don't think that knitting or scrapbooking will make me complacent about the fact that my husband is incredibly busy, or that my son is no longer with me.

i think back to our days in the NICU and shudder. when i hear of other moms and dads going through it, my heart breaks for them. i want to reach out and give them big hugs even though i don't know them.

possible new hobby: express myself more concisely. hobby? i think not. necessary? probably.

the school year has officially begun...for teachers. it's apparent in our house, because Reid isn't here! yeah. not here. at school. at 8:30.

i hate to say that i'm scared of the coming year, but i'm a little worried.

we've been doing the school thing for the past three years. my former student of a husband is now a teacher. on the plus side, we're not incurring more debt for him to get his degree anymore. we're going to have a substantial second income for the first time in three years. we'll hopefully be able to take our first vacation since our honeymoon. the negative side? three words: first. year. teacher.

if i'm totally honest, i just have to say that i admire my husband for pursuing a career that he feels is a sort of calling. i love him more than ever, and can't imagine our lives any other way. i pray that i can find things to keep my busy this coming year while my husband is figuring out how to be a teacher.

my sister, Tina told me something recently that i'll never forget. she said that if you lack patience, the last thing you should do is pray for patience because that's when God sends things your way to test your patience. amen.

of bicuspids and such

i can't stand the sound of people chewing.

especially when my husband does it. it's like i can feel it in my bones. i feel every molar crunch and bicuspid munch. it kills me.

i say this realizing that i too make noise when i chew. how can i say that i hate when other people do it if i do it too?

here's the deal. i completely understand that we all have our own little ticks. Reid would probably tell me that my feet are too stinky, or he wishes my hair were styled a different way, or he just isn't very satisfied with the way i hang his collared shirts (which are all true, by the way).

i just hate the sound of chewing. period. end of story.

i'm bad at being a grown up

seriously. i am bad at it.

how? let's see.

i can't keep my house clean for the life of me. i let things go and go and go until i can't stand them anymore and throw a fit in front of Reid. then we spend an entire evening cleaning and three days later, it's back where it started. what's so difficult about putting things away when you're done with them? why is it so hard to wash the dishes after every meal?

i don't have a signature meal that i can just whip up anytime we might have dinner guests. not only do i not have a signature meal, i never have the signature ingredients around to compile such a meal to begin with. on top of that, there's always a pile of the aforementioned dishes to be done afterward that i'm not eager to deal with.

i don't exercise. there. i said it. it's true. many times in my life i've tried to start an exercise regimen. never has it worked. i know what i need to do. i know that it's as simple as taking a 30 minute walk every day but do i do that? no! that requires getting off of my duff. that requires an extra 30 minutes a day. i don't seem to have that much extra time lately.

i have no artwork on my walls. yep. our walls are bare, save our wedding invitation in the bedroom and the family calendar in the kitchen. i've talked with my friend, Becca about this before; artwork and framing things of importance are double income kinds of things. when we only have one income, i'm more concerned about putting food on the table, (or on the coffee table. from a takeout bag) gas in our cars, and shoes on our feet. artwork is one of those things that i feel will really catapult me into adulthood.

i don't have a real couch. nope, our living room consists of a five year old ikea couch that we've reinforced about five times and a donated chair that Reid hates and wants to get rid of. another double income kind of thing. i so want a comfortable couch and chair. i truly believe those things will make my life better.

the list goes on, but i'll stop there for tonight. i'll spare you the ugly details. you'll thank me later, when i'm a real adult doing things adults do.

out of laziness, and in part because of a lingering gift card, Reid and i decided to eat at Avantis tonight. while eating at Avantis is usually a big mistake followed by tummy aches, tonight's outing turned into hilarity. for me.

our waitress came to our table to take our drink order, and right after asking what we'd like to drink, a little girl on the other side of the wall screamed one of those hideous-only-a-mother-could-love-it child screams. in classy kara-manner, i said to the waitress, "i'll have what she's having." and promptly busted out laughing. i admit, it wasn't that funny, but i was making reference to When Harry Met Sally and proceeded to say, "it was supposed to be funny." to explain my behavior. why can't i tell a joke? this has been a constant laughing matter in our marriage, and tonight just epitomized my lack of joke-tellingness.

ah.

one of the things that i've been very thankful for lately is the laughter that's resurfaced in my marriage. in spite of some horrible things happening to us this year, i'm glad that Reid and i can make each other laugh and just be silly together.

of course, my life isn't filled with laughter, it's only a small part of what helps keep me ticking each day. more and more lately, i find myself in a very deep depression that probably doesn't show to others because i seem to spend 80% of my waking hours working and you just can't be a depressed doof when you're working with people all day. i've had talks with friends about going to a counselor (our first attempt at counseling led to a recommendation of some James Dobson writings which totally threw me for a loop) and possibly getting on medication, but i've never been the kind of person to just say, "ok, i give up...medicate me!"

on a different note, we're about to finish watching Purple Rain...a film i'm sure i'll only have to see once in my life. hopefully.

...and that's how babies are made

we got food.

it's growing. it's growing in abundance in our backyard. it's our first attempt at a garden, and after what i thought was a rough start, it looks like things are picking up. i'm really excited about the possibilities it holds.

two tomatoes. three plants and two whole tomatoes.

this is the beginning of what i can only describe as an overabundance of jalapenos.

here's the thing

i'm boring.

yeah. bo-ring. i think i've been trying to figure out what to fill that new empty part of my life with for the last four months, and i haven't gotten anywhere.

i've found that i like to eat, and i've gained 15 pounds in the process. not what i'd call productive in terms of getting me back to some state of normal even if it's a new normal.

i'm reading a book with my mom & sister called Cold Tangerines, and the first section is somewhat of a manifesto about living for now, not for what will be. my now sucks. seriously.

i try to find joy in the now, but it's all awkward and sticky and not fun. i don't know what to say to people when i'm hanging out with them. my mind works a little like this:

Scenario 1:

kara is sitting at Medici with friends when the conversation turns to pets. kara engages in the conversation fo' reals for about 2.2 seconds before visions of Raef start churning around in her head. kara imagines herself sitting in the uncomfortable rolly/swivel chair that's standard in the NICU. she's looking over a nurse's shoulder at her son. so cute. kara gets depressed about the current state of her life an completely stops engaging in the present.

Scenario 2:

kara is sitting at her desk at work when she looks slightly to the right of her computer monitor where there's a picture of her angelic baby boy lying in his isolette. productivity = 0.

ok. so, there are only 2 scenarios, but that's pretty much my life if you leave out sitting in front of the tv with Reid at night.

i'm embarking on a journey of what it means to live life in the now. i need to stop looking into the future where i have more money, and can actually take a vacation; where i can actually imagine having another child; where i'm not jealous of my friends for being way better people than i am.

right now, that means getting myself some dinner. like a boss.

poverty. i got it.

i decided to go out on a limb today, and attend a poverty simulation which was being put on by Mid Central Community Action and the University of Illinois Extension. it may sound corny, but what a life/perspective changing experience.

if you have an opportunity to go to a poverty simulation, and you're not already living in poverty, i suggest you do it. i suggest you register and put it on your calendar right this moment. go ahead, i'll wait right here.

but seriously. good stuff.

i was Pablo Ruiz, a 36 year old father of three whose wife left and neglects to pay child support. my children ranged in age from 3 - 13 years and boy were they a handful. actually, they were pretty great, even after i pawned our TV to pay for a week of childcare that i didn't really end up needing because pawning the tv to get the money for childcare took so much time that i was late for work and they told me to go home anyway. aside from that, i forgot to pick up my 3 year old on time, and definitely wasn't anyone's favorite single dad.

from working at PATH, i feel like i've been able to somewhat understand peoples' situations and sympathize/empathize with their plights. i found out tonight that i had no freaking clue as to what they felt/experienced on any given day.

as Pablo, i let my children go hungry. i couldn't travel to the grocery store to use my LINK card because i had no way of getting there. i let my kids go hungry! what the heck?!

luckily, my 13 year old, Paulo, was resourceful enough to lend his babysitting skills to a neighboring family and bring in an extra $20 one week. needless to say, it didn't get us out of the water by any means, and i still felt like a total failure to my children.

i felt the disappointment in myself, the system, and those in my community during this simulation. i felt alone. i felt as if i were the only one who could get my family through each day. i lost all hope during the hour-long simulation. i gave up.

again, if you have the opportunity, i suggest you give it a try. you'll come away from the experience with a profound appreciation for those less fortunate than you.