SHOUT OUT TO STEPHANIE! WOOT!

Congratulations to my baby sister on this distinguished honor!  

Well deserved, Buttonhead!  

I love you to pieces!

Tidbit:

I went to the gym tonight and the impact that excursion has had on my mood is impressive.

xo

3.11.1, In the end.

Three kids left

after eleven days

with me.

And just like I said here, I was sad.  Super sad.  

But I was also grateful.  Incredibly grateful.

I was grateful that I had gotten the opportunity to know these little beings.  I was grateful for the strength that pulled me through those eleven days and the emotional meltdowns that each of the three (and I) suffered at one point or another.

I was proud.  Very proud.

I was proud that we had met the expectations of an enormous challenge.  I was proud that the kids had shown growth in "using their words" to handle conflict and "remembering their manners" when asking for help.  I was proud that our family had grown.

I was moved.  Deeply moved.

I was moved that these little beings trusted us so whole-heartedly with so little reason to.  I was moved that they trusted us enough to call us "Mom" and "Dad."  

We hadn't had that before.

Mom.

Dad.

We always knew that we were a "mom" and a "dad" to all of the kids that we had cared for. 

But we had never before had the title.  

WOW

I have never asked or expected to be called "Mom."  And caring for all of the kids we've had - and especially that respite placement - has really brought to the surface why we want to have a family.

It has nothing to do with being called "Mom" or "Dad."  It has nothing to do with thinking it would be "fun" to have a baby or "see" what a miniature combination of Doug and Marsha would be.  It has nothing to do with having someone to take care of us when we are old and frail or it being "the next phase in our life."  All of these things feel fun and applicable, but they also feel like a great big bonus in comparison to the heart of what parenting children means to us:

We desire to have a family because we long to share experiences, opportunities, and most importantly, love with a child(ren) that may not know what the world has to offer.

Simple as that.

And hence, we've welcomed two more.

XO

3.11.1, Part 3

Three kids. 

(STUFFED into the backseat of our car.  Literally.)

Eleven days.

Me.

...set off on an adventure into the great unknown.

Eleven days of me as a stay at home mom.

THIS is what we did...

We read books and books and books and found one we fell in love with.

We shared secrets and shoes.

We picked beautiful flowers...

...and made a BEAUTIFUL arrangement.

We made our own play dough...

...and watched morning cartoons.

We went to the pool...

...and worked on taking turns.

We played games like "Crocodile Dentist"...

...and "Guess What's In My Pocket???"

(It's a Monster Truck.)

We glued...

...and colored...

...and glued some more until we were ready...

...to show off our work.

We "helped" each other cook (and cook and cook and cook) and wash (and wash and wash and wash) dishes in the kitchen.

...and enjoyed lunch and conversation on the patio.

We blew bubbles and drew a "sidewalk Doug."

And not only did we make it to the end of: 

Three kids.  Eleven days.  Me.

...at times we felt the joy in it.

xo

3.11.1, Part 2

Three kids.  Eleven days.  Me.

I tried to psych myself up before they arrived.  I used positive self talk.  I brainstormed activities.

I set up beds and brought toys out of their storage space.  I swept the, "What was I thinking?  I should've never agreed to this." sick feeling in my stomach out of the way.

I used my teacher thinker to preemptively establish some easily identifiable and understood boundaries for some wee ones that were new to the concept of yours/mine/safe/unsafe.

 

I referenced my Pinterest boards for meal planning.

I ate a Sassy Cakes cupcake.  (Margarita flavored.  Mmmm.)

I was as ready as I was going to be.  And at 4:00 pm on Sunday, July 29, 2012 I picked them up.

Three kids.  Eleven days.  Me.

3.11.1, Part 1

The kids left to return to their longer term placement a few hours ago.  I have concluded that it is debilitatingly saddening when the children leave regardless of how long they've stayed; regardless of the reason they came.  They weren't even out of the drive-way and I was in the shaky-tears state.  Doug quickly swept me out of the house for a drive and a stop at El Jimador.  He knew I couldn't take the stillness in the house.  He's awesome like that.

There are so many thoughts running through my head, I'm not exactly sure where to begin to expel them.  So, let me start with this:

CAN YOU IMAGINE?!?!  

CAN YOU IMAGINE being PULLED, TORN, SEVERED from the ONLY way of life you have EVER known, the life with which you have become comfortable, to be dropped in a brand new place with brand new faces and brand new expectations to be told by the person that TOOK you from all you knew, "It's okay, trust these strangers,"???

CAN YOU EVEN BEGIN TO IMAGINE?!?!  

AND THEN to relive that conversation not once, not twice, a total of THREE times.  THREE new places with new faces and new rules - in LESS than a MONTH.  And you are FOUR years old, or THREE years old, or TWO years old.

CAN YOU?

I cannot.

I tried.  I spent eleven days doing something that I wasn't sure I would survive.  Three kids.  At home.  All of the time.  With me.

No work to dissipate the drama.  No daycare breaks to squeeze in a trip to the store or a nap or a walk.

Eleven days.  Three kids.  And me.

We are right at the six year mark of Doug and I "trying" to grow our family.  Six years ago I would've said that there was nothing I wished for more than to be able to stay home with my children full time.  And then as we welcomed kids into our home and I had the (non-negotiable) role of "Working Mom," I found I enjoyed it.  Not only was I raised by a (hard) working mom, I was surrounded by fellow working moms that supported and comforted me when the balance seemed off.  I had great examples from which to take guidance and nurture my own transition into this role.  I discovered I liked the fast-paced scurry of the morning routine, the multi-tasking, and the reflections at the end of the day.  I enjoyed having my independence (and adult conversations) and watching the kids embrace theirs (and kid conversations).  We were individuals that went our separate ways by day and returned under the same roof in the evening to remember what unconditional love and support and respect felt like and that God had brought us all together for a time and a purpose that may or may not be identifiable.

I had changed my mind: Marsha Mezger is the Working Mother type.

But I just spent ELEVEN days as the NON-Working Mother type.  And it was quite the trip.  Here's what we did...

to be continued

life is a maze and love is a riddle.

If I had a penny for every time this felt applicable, I'd be rich.

Enjoy.



xo

Bullseye

Doug and I have respite kids this week.   Three of them.  Ages: 4, 3, 2.  It's the same three that I talked about here.  And since they're only here for 11 days, it's okay.

This afternoon our new friends discovered the tree/play house in the back yard.  I helped them shimmy up and watched as they admired the view from above.  So this evening as I was working in the kitchen and watching them from the window I was not at all surprised to see that the eldest had managed to make his way back up the ladder.

"Ahhh," I thought, "he's really enjoying himself."

And then I realized that his pants were around his ankles and he was peeing through the slats on the bannister.

And apparently aiming at his younger brother as though he were some sort of bullseye.

Future Olympian in Archery?  I think so!

xo

Call Me Maybe, Olympic Edition

The results are in.

I am happy to announce that I received word late Friday afternoon that the re-test of my liver enzymes came back at a normal level, so all is good and peaceful there.  You can imagine how thoroughly un-peaceful the preceding 23 hours were as I became BFFs with webmd.com and self diagnosed myself as having one of two things:

• Celiacs Disease - which I am pleased to know is not the case as I will continue eating cookies and other treats delectably laced with gluten, but am secretly disappointed to find isn't the cause of the elevated enzyme levels because celiacs disease is known to be a factor in infertility and recurrent miscarriages.  And yes, after 5 rounds of IVF and 2 miscarriages (3 if you ask Acupuncture Abby), one does actually reach the depth of fertility woe induced psychosis at which they plead with God to have a disease.  Why?  Because it's an answer.  And in the world of fertility woes, the ratio of questions to definitive answers looks something like 935,234,712,634,213,053,001 to 3.  

I am not exaggerating.

• Gallbladder Dysfunction - which I am pleased to know is not the case because really, who wants to have surgery, but am secretly disappointed to learn is not the cause of the elevated enzyme levels because really, who likes to wash dishes by hand every day.

My dishpan hands would benefit from a furlough.

So there it is, the elevated liver enzymes were a fluke.  Can you guess how I celebrated?

With a beer.

xo

Disclaimer: This song/video is PG-13.

Freak Out!

Yesterday was a great day!  I spent a few hours lounging around in a park and then went to acupuncture and then had a lovely lunch with Doug's parents, sister, and niece.  How could that not be blissful?!  

But there were bits of yesterday that have left me feeling like this:

Here's what:

1. My acupuncturist is now officially on sabbatical to prepare for and welcome her new baby.  I am 15 weeks away from my next appointment with her.  I typically do not go more than 2 weeks without seeing her.  I've known this was coming and although I am very sad about not seeing her for such a long time - because she really has become a dear friend - I know that I can get through this and that there are other very nice acupuncturists that I can see should I feel like I just cannot make it the full 105 days until she returns to her office.  But they will not be any Acupuncture Abby.

2. Following my last chiropractor appointment I decided that maybe, maybe, I would start a BBT chart.  I told my lovely chiropractor at my last visit that I've tried to chart in the past but I'm just not sure I'm responsible enough for it.  I forget sometimes.  And anyone who knows anything about a BBT chart knows that forgetting is a MAJOR faux pas.  Even still, I decided maybe this charting business was something I had grown-up enough to handle.  I am in my thirties now.  So, with throughly researched and newly purchased basal thermometer in hand and highly rated and freshly downloaded charting app on my iphone, I set off on a BBT charting adventure.  Even though I was a few days into my cycle when all of this came about I thought, "I'm not going to worry about this.  I'm not going to wait until my next cycle to start.  I'll just jump in and try not to think about it."  And so...  

• I've temped regularly - except for those few days I was out of town and forgot my thermometer at home
• I've charted diligently - unless I forget to record and have to look at the thermometer again while hoping I didn't accidentally reset the last temperature taken, and 
• I've intensely overanalyzed the happenings of my BBT compared to what I think my BBT should be doing and it's quite possible that I am more stressed out about the happenings of my body now than ever before.  

Well, maybe not ever.  But I'm pretty stressed out about this.  And I feel like it's a ridiculous thing to stress out about.

2-a. I'm sure some of you are now thinking, "She should just relax!"  Some of you may even have the distaste to suggest such a thing to me directly.  FYI: We are past the point of "relaxing" and those comments do anything but help.  So, how about you smack yourself since I can't reach you.  :-)

KIDDING.

Not really.

3. The combination of #1 and #2.  AAAAAAGH!

4. As Doug and I were headed out of town yesterday I got a call from my family practitioner's office letting me know that my liver enzymes were a bit elevated and they wanted to re-test.  Since we were in town we opted to stop by her office on our way home and have the test done.  The results will be back in a few days.  The nurse mentioned a handful of things that could lead to elevated liver enzymes, a few of which seem possible.  We will see.  Just after the "little stick," the nurse also mentioned that...

5. My doctor is no longer working at that clinic.  Well, that's a fun bomb to have dropped on you while a needle is raping your vein and stealing your blood. I LOVE that doctor!  And now I'm going to have to work with someone new as we figure this liver business out.  GREAAAAT.

6. Combine #s 1 and 5.  WHAT!?!?  IS!?!?!  GOING!?!?!?  ON!?!?!?! IN!?!?!?!? MY!?!?!?!?!  LIFE!?!?!?!?!?  These are MAJOR players on what I like to refer to as my "Board of Advisors."  I've known and trusted these people for nearly as long as my husband!  And now they're not available for one reason or another and I am SCARED about it.

And it absolutely does feel like a bird has pooped on my head...while I'm at the mall...picking up a gift...for a wedding I'm running late to.

Now that that has been fully purged, I think I'll go meditate and try to expend some of this fearful freak out energy.  Namaste.

xo

A Rosy Disposition

I recently received an email that Yoga Journal was offering a 28 day Meditation Revolution that could be subscribed to and enjoyed for free.

Today is Day 10 of Marsha's Meditation Revolution.

I'm proud that I've made it to Day 10 of the Meditation Revolution. Sometimes I can settle into wellness commitments that seem like a great idea but do not stick for one reason or another. I've nurtured the integrity of my commitment to this journey despite a few instances of the internet connection not cooperating or my schedule being jumbled or being away from home. Like today, I sat for my daily ritual in Des Moines' Rose Garden. And in the Rose Garden I remain as I compose this blog.

I've heard that prayer is when you ask, meditation is when you listen.

My listening skills can always benefit from some honing. It's challenging to sit quietly for 10-15 minutes and let the traffic of thoughts pass without acknowledgement. Sometimes there is a serious rush hour occurring in my mind!

I value my time in quiet and stillness.

I am improving - not as if this sort of thing is to be assessed. But nonetheless, I can feel the calmness as the benefits of this practice accompany me throughout the remainder of my day.

And for today, there is no more fragrant place to settle into a rosy disposition.

xo

Happy Monday, Y'all!

xo

This is only a test

Do you believe in things like God or the Universe testing us?

I think I was just tested.

If I hadn't just written a blog about staying true to self I may not have had the courage to say "no" to the thing I have the hardest time saying "no" to and we'd have three (And GAWD, there's that magical number again!) magical little beings joining the Mezger Clan within a few hours. Which would be an overt disregard to my pact with Doug that 1=yes, 2=yes, 3+=NO. And that would've been BAD in an epic sort of way.

Or maybe it was divine intervention that I spent 2 hours in my coveted yoga room typing from my heart about how important it is to KNOW when the NEED to say "NO!" outweighs the WANT to say "YES!"

Either way, this life stuff is HARD!

xo

3 is a Magic Number!

1.  I met TWO new friends this week, bringing my grand total of Denison friends (defined as people that I have a personal connection with outside of Doug's work - all others are considered acquaintances through Doug's work) to a total of - drumroll - THREE!

2.  I cooked beets for the first time yesterday.  There were THREE of them!  Today will be the THIRD day this week that I've eaten beets!  I love beets!

3.  Today is not only Friday (July) the 13th, but it is the THIRD (and final...preceded by January 13th and April 13th) Friday the 13th of 2012.  This is MAGICAL because there are typically only TWO Fridays the 13th in each year, and in 2011 - insert super sad face - only ONE.  But the fun doesn't stop at that!  No sir!  Another year just like 2012 will not occur again until 2040.  Why, you ask?  Because 2012 was also a LEAP YEAR!  Click here for more.

XO

"Yes!" I mean, "NO!"

Sometimes the want to say YES must be overpowered by the need to say NO.

I am working on this.  In fact, I got in some good practice with it this week!  And as such, I have decided that the following responses are appropriate and deserve being practiced for ease of fluency when appropriate:

• "No thanks!!!"
• "I don't think that's for me right now."
• "I want to say 'yes' but I need to say 'no.'"

I've been utilizing my inner strength to use these sayings more frequently of late.  And sometimes it's met with criticism.  

It can be mislabeled as harsh, blunt, snotty, and exclusive...and worse! 

OF COURSE there are things that MUST be done.  That's all part of a healthy reality of life known as energy exchange.  Is what you are (physically or spiritually or emotionally or financially) contributing being appropriately (intrinsically or extrinsically) compensated?  

So what's the big deal with saying, "No?"

In yoga, acting from your truth is known as satya.  Many impede their innate desire to live satya because of fear of hurting someone else's feelings.  But I challenge that in that case, individuals are doing more harm to themselves AND grotesquely underestimating those around them.  Speaking from truth does not have to be cutting or snarky or hostile or rude.  Speaking from truth can be graceful, tactful, sensitive, and freeing.  Moreover, the truth is the truth and in avoiding satya we truthfully hurt ourselves and risk hurting others.

And truthfully, I love you guys!!!

xo

"Truth is the beginning of every good thing, both on heaven and on earth; and he who would be blessed and happy should be from the first a partaker of truth, for then he can be trusted." -Plato

Call Me Maybe, Part 2

Thanks to my trip to Des Moines today - and my time with Big Ken and Colleen in the Morning - I was introduced to yet another catchy version of "Call Me Maybe."  Of course I had to SHARE it!

Enjoy!

xo

5 Best Things About My Day

Today's trip to Des Moines brought bliss.  I got so excited about spending time with:

• MY FRIENDS!
• Big Ken and Colleen in the Morning!
• NPR!
• Fantastic food and conversations!
• MY FRIENDS!

Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

This one's for you, Babes!

xo

A present of presence.

I just posted this on Facebook:

Who's having a BABY!?!?! I have LOTS of baby stuff I'm ready to part with. We have ALL the basics: Dr. Brown bottles, double strollers, bumbo, activity mat, exersaucers (2), a jumperoo, TOYS, a few itty bitty girl clothes and an INSANE amount of baby boy clothes size NB-12 month. I thought I'd go to my friends before Craig's List and the psycho swap pages...


And if I tried to pretend that this isn't an incredibly emotional step for me, I would be lying.  I want to run and cry and scream and maybe kick and throw a tantrum.  I am certainly shaking.  And I'm not sure if I feel this way because it feels like I'm giving up on a dream or because all this has happened to begin with.  I just don't know.


What I do know is that the last year has been THE.  HARDEST.  YEAR.  OF.  MY.  LIFE.  Everything that identified me dissipated.  EVERYTHING.  Nothing was what I thought it would be.  NOTHING.  The loneliness that I experienced at times was beyond description.  When I felt supported, it was not coming from the direction I thought it would.  I think I felt the extreme of every emotion imaginable, but the anger and resentment and confusion stand out the most.


It. sucked.


A truth that I've arrived at over the journey of the last year is that our life does not suck, what we've experienced has.  We have a great life!  And we did our very best to make lemonade with the lemons we were handed.  And being thirtysomething and childless is not the end of the world.  In fact, it's quite enjoyable!  And we're not giving up on having a Forever Mini Mezger.  We love the idea of growing our family!  But I MUST stop mourning the past and quit incessantly focusing on a future pregnancy/adoption/whatever.  And letting go of those baby items might be the best way to help myself achieve this.  Because the only reality we truly know is today.  And being present in it is the best present I can give myself.


xo

Truth is...

...that I am a pretty FANTASTIC housewife from the time I get out of bed in the morning - usually between 6 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. - until 9 a.m.  Seriously, FIERCELY productive and motivated.  I am ON FIRE until 9 a.m.  And then I sit down to enjoy "Live with Kelly" and it all comes to a screeching halt.  But I mean it, for those 1.5-3 hours, I am UNSTOPPABLE.

Happy Monday!
xo

Call Me Maybe

I was first introduced to this song:



while watching the Miss USA pageant where I saw this video:



which I watched an embarrassing number of times before being introduced to this arrangement:



that, quite frankly, makes me proud to be an elementary music teacher.

And, I enjoy a little Jimmy Fallon.

xo

Random Thought #1

I could be frighteningly productive if I were to find a way to motivate myself.

Fly High

Remember when you were itty bitty and you had GREAT BIG DREAMS?  Like becoming a scientist or an astronaut or the first female president?  And then as you get a little older and move into adolescence and the endurance test that is high school and you think, "If I could be anything I want, and I mean ANYTHING, I would be _______."  But then around your senior year of HS it's almost like someone puts lead on your feet and those OUT OF THIS WORLD and AWESOMELY BIG DREAMS just don't seem very realistic anymore and you let those go for something more easily attainable and secure?  But then 14 years after HS graduation (FOURTEEN!  JEEZ!), after your realistic and more easily attainable and most certainly secure "safe dream" is achieved it occurs to you, "Wait a minute!  One time I had a much bigger dream.  What happened to that?!?"  That happened to me.  Today.

My "safe dream" was to be a Music Teacher.  Coming from a school district that did not have a choir, this was a big dream.  But it was attainable, realistic, and safe.  I set off to the unbeatable NWMSU (B-E-A-R-C-A-T-S!), earned my degree in Music Education, and lived my dream first as a part of the Chillicothe (MO) R-II School District and then as a member of the Waukee Community School District.  I LOVED teaching music!  I met incredible people!  I helped hundreds (maybe thousands!) of children!  I made a very comfortable wage!  But this morning as I was getting ready to volunteer at our church's Vacation Bible School the thought came to me, "Hey!  When I was in high school I said I wanted to do ________ and be a _______ and maybe have a _________.  And I believed it was attainable!  What happened to that!?"  The sky was the limit!

So, when is it that we first feel the gravitational pull of reality?  When does it happen that those BIG DREAMS go by the wayside?  Because I once knew I could have that BIG DREAM.  And today I am reminded that I still could.

Why not?  Elphaba did it.  And so can I.  And so can you.

XO

Let me clear my throat...

...and then catch you up on the last 10 weeks and 3 days of life as M to the power of 2.

Since my last post I have:

• Resigned from my position as Church Secretary Extraordinaire (1), renewed my teaching license (2), re-enlisted myself on the Substitute Teacher List (3), restyled myself with a quick visit to The Loft (4), and re-entered the classroom, 
• Traveled to Iowa City for a "second opinion" with the baby doctors (5) and welcomed Incredible Little Individual #8 into Casa de Mezger, (6)
• Celebrated the lives of the incredible Marian "Gram" Mason and "Aunt" Nancy Ohl, (7)
• and hand-delivered ILI#8 back to his mom for another successful reunification. (8)

I've also:

• Been to the pool 3 times, (9)
• Read 2 books, (10)
• Spent quality time with quality friends, (11)
• Had 1 emotional, "Where is my life headed!?!" meltdown, (12)
• and discovered a new favorite place in the Old Market of Omaha. (13)

In reflection, the last 10 weeks and 3 days has been quite the ride.  

Highs.  

Lows.  

In-betweens.  

Life: Finding joy in the ebbs and flows.

You didn't honestly think I was going to title this post as I did and not include this did you!?

xo

(1) Because really, you cannot you should not - be something you are not.

(2) $88 well spent!

(3) Thanks to the building secretaries for keeping me busy.  It's really true...they really are in charge of their buildings.

(4) What can I say?? The Loft really does love teachers!  Also, more than $88 well spent!  Thanks, Honey!

(5) A very reassuring trip!  Yay!

(6) 2 years old and the life of the party.  Pure perfection.  But who am I kidding...they've all been perfect.

(7) Such incredible women!

(8) I LOVE it when they arrive.  I feel so SAD when they go!  But I hope we were a blessing to 8 and his family...just like 8 was a blessing to us!

(9) Fully sunscreen-ed!

(10) This and that.

(11) Ahhhh!  LOVE. MY. FRIENDS!

(12) Self explanatory.

(13) SO. GOOD.

Heavenly Hugs

I mentioned on Facebook earlier this week that I spent an afternoon with the quilters. These women are 87 years old and up.  And FABULOUS!  They giggle and laugh and gossip and share secrets and support each other.  I love them.  During my time with them there was an extensive discussion surrounding the composition of one's own obituary.  At first I thought, "Oh my GAWD!  Only the quilters would talk about this."  By the time I left I was thinking, "Why wouldn't you write your own obituary?"  They're so awesome and wise and talented.  And FABULOUS!

I'm finally starting to wrap my mind around all Denison has to offer.  It is so very different that where we moved from.  When we moved to West Des Moines I made hundreds of friends, a couple (b & j) close enough to be my sisters.  Moving to Denison I've gained something different.  I've gained approximately fifteen new moms and 30 new grandmas.  And I love them all!

Sitting with the quilters or my other "grandmas" from around the church reminds me of my grandma.  I think that you always anticipate missing your grandparents when they're gone, but I underestimated the depth to which I would miss my grandma.  I am so grateful for these ladies and the hugs and encouragement and pats on the back that they offer.  There are so many days that I literally ache to cry on my grandma's shoulder and tell her how I just don't know what to do and how my heart sometimes feels so heavy with longing for that baby to come along.  And it never fails that she gives me a quick hug through one of my Denison grandmas.  And I give thanks.

Day 15...of Lent.

I'm really not a huge Taylor Swift fan.  And I certainly do not enjoy watching her perform.  And this video is really awful.  BUT, I LOVE this song.  Particularly the part that says, "Life makes love look hard.  The stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours."  Ahhhh!  AND I think there's a great deal of truth to, "Don't you worry your pretty little mind.  People throw rocks at things that shine."  Sooooo if need be, turn away from your screen and listen.  I always feel a little bit happier after hearing this.  I hope you do too.

xo

The eleventh day of Lent

The eleventh day of Lent is a Saturday.

LIGHT BULB: The eleventh day of Lent is always a Saturday.

That realization is going to help balance the fact that I asked my mom if Thanksgiving was on a Saturday last year.  And I was serious.  I'm glad I can laugh at myself.  Nonetheless, the look on my mom's face was PRICELESS!  I might do it again this year just to enjoy the reaction.

I love Saturdays!  I like getting up and asking myself, "What will I do today?"  It's fun!  Sometimes I decide that I will spend the entire day cleaning or cooking or talking on the phone or wrapped in a blanket on the couch reconnecting with my best Bravo friends.  Showering is, of course, optional.

Today I decided to exercise.  Doug accidentally rang the doorbell as he was leaving for work this morning at 6:15 a.m.  Accidentally.  Riiiiiiiiiiight.  Regardless, the girls and I were up and there was no hope of returning to the slumber from which we were torn.  I didn't really want to go to the gym, but I knew I needed it because the stress of the last week has left me feeling extra flabby and flat out yucky.  Nothing counteracts the excess cortisol that has pooled itself in various regions of your body in the form of rolls like some exercise.  So after a quick check of Pinterest and Facebook and a quick jaunt around the block with Lucy and Margie, I left my house just before 8 am to head to the gym.

And after leaving the gym, I headed directly to the McDonald's drive thru across the street and enjoyed a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel.

Because that helps too.

The eighth day of Lent

Today is February 29th.  If it were not a leap year, today would be March 1st.  I'm glad it's a leap year.

Here's an email I shared with some friends and family this morning concerning the potential placement of three boys, with fabulous names, that I had already fallen a little bit in love with, in our home...

I finally heard from the worker at 8:53 this morning.  Thankfully Doug and I talked about whether we felt like this placement was still a good fit for us this morning.  When she asked if we were still interested in the placement I told her, "I actually think we have changed our minds.  We were told that the boys needed to be in a new home by yesterday.  We have been ready for a week and have heard nothing from you.  This makes us concerned and uncomfortable with the level of communication and support that we may have from you in regards to this placement.  We have jobs and careers and lives and we feel taken advantage of by being left in limbo like this."  She became defensive and told us that she didn't call us because she had other emergencies come up.  I replied, "Believe me, I understand how emergencies come up.  But in talking with my husband we don't feel like it would have taken much to communicate that it was going to be a bit before they were in our home.  I'm sure this leaves you in a pickle but that's where we stand."

So now, as Doug put it, "Another worker hates us."  But oh well.  You can't treat people like that.  Our decision has nothing to do with the boys, but with the worker. I'm brokenhearted by this as I want nothing more than to have children in our home...especially kids that need a home.

True story.  I said every bit of that.  And was a little bit shocked by my boldness.  And Doug was very shocked by my boldness.  And so was Stephanie the BOMB.  And Becky and Jenn and Lisa and Sara and Ann were maybe a little less shocked by my boldness :-) as they sent e-hugs and words of encouragement to stay strong and true.  

In my 31st year, 365th day, 8th hour, and 53rd minute I took in a deep breath and acknowledged that we are just fine, I am just fine, and exhaled myself a little closer into peace and contentment.

I'm glad it's a leap year.


32 is going to be fabulous.

The seventh day of Lent

It's raining here today. The rain is pouring from the clouds in a way that I wish this icky feeling would expel itself from within me.

I am in my icky place.

Here's a moment of truth: I do not like to blog in my icky place. Remember those long, post-less chunks on here? Icky place. When blogging from my icky place I feel like I'm pouring my negativity on others. Who wants to surround themselves with that?  But it is what it is and I am who I am and because I am committed to being truthful and real I will tell you what's bothering me...

It has been five days since we agreed to take three boys that need a safe place to stay into our home.  Perhaps you remember?  It was the second day of Lent.

The process for taking a placement is that you are called by Matcher and told about a placement that (might sort of) match what you said you were willing to take.  After agreeing to a placement you are called by Worker to get more details and establish a time for "transition" or "drop off."  Matcher told us that the boys were to be out of where ever they are (or were) by today, February 28th.

But we've heard nothing from Worker.  This is frustrating.  A great deal of time, energy, and emotion goes into preparing for the arrival of three small children, emphasis on emotion.  And we've heard nothing.

Icky.

The fifth day of Lent

It's the fifth day of Lent.  And also the Sunday preceding my birthday.

5th day of Lent + the Sunday preceding my birthday = SPECIAL DAY!

Doug and I went "home" this weekend.  It is always exciting for us to cross the state line back into Missouri.  We call it "God's country."  It's funny how we actually relax a little more after crossing that invisible line.  There really is no place like home.

We had a GREAT trip back to my parent's house and a GREAT time while we were there.  I got to see both of my siblings and their spouses and (almost) all of my incredible nieces and nephews and I watched two of my nephews play basketball and played cards with my parents and tasted my sister's incredible cupcakes and played with my one year old niece and played a game with my 8 year old nephew and enjoyed some wine and laughed and hugged my parents and took a nap!!!  It was FABULOUS!

There is nothing like family.

Tonight I'm anxious about our little branch of the family tree.  The crazy thing about foster parenting is that I find myself getting attached to these children I've never seen or met.  I assume it's similar to expecting a biological child in that sense.  We know their gender: all boys.  We learned their names: I can't tell you on here but they are FABULOUS.  We did not ask their race:  It doesn't matter to us and we want to be surprised.  So it's kind of like we're pregnant.

Foster pregnant.

Bryan, in black. Wyatt, ready to rebound in white. Alli, perfect teeth.

The second day of Lent

Thursday began a great day. I started with yoga, made it to work (pretty much) on time, and was feeling peaceful and contented with life as it was at that moment. I was being productive and excited about a trip Doug and I discussed last night.

And then Iowa KidsNet called.

I heard what the worker had to say about a placement she thought would suit us and although there was one more child in the sibling group than what we were "signed up" for, it was a good match and I was ready to jump at the opportunity to (foster) parent again.

I LOVE being a mom.

So I called Doug and gave him the details and then some time to think about it. And then we talked about it again. And then we thought about it a little more. And through this last stretch of "thinking time" I got to talk with my good friend, Stephanie.

Stephanie is the BOMB.

I met Steph through our first foster care placement and we just clicked. Lifelong friends. Done. She's helped me navigate some rough times. And she's fun to enjoy the lighter times with, too.

So we're on the phone, with which my left hand was holding, as I'm pilling through the mail with my right when I come across a hand written, very personal looking envelop addressed to me from one of my very favorite people ever. I opened the card to read, "I wanted to tell you personally that I am 'expecting.'"

When I decided that I would be committing the next 40 days to enjoying life's plentiful blessings and giving no worry or want to those hopes that seem elusive thus far, the subject of that note was EXACTLY the topic I had grand intentions to avoid.

And yet there I was, on the second day of Lent, with a plan to avoid foiled plans, foiled.

I felt punched in the stomach, but I wasn't off track. I cried. And I wanted to curl into a ball on the couch and grieve what we don't have. I couldn't. I made promises: To God, to myself, and to these three little guys that need a safe place to stay. The second day of Lent is too soon to give up.

Stephanie kept me afloat. She reminded me that what we don't have is not my fault. And that societal norms are why it feels like a failure. And that there is a great deal of irony in the timing of the KidsNet call and receiving the news from my friend. And that the ironic timing may not be irony at all.

See why I love this lady!

Then she hit me with this incredible poignancy: "Marsha, you've parented seven children. And you've loved each one of them unconditionally. And we became friends. How much of that would've happened if you had 'had' kids when and how you 'wanted' to?"

Mmmm. She's right. I couldn't imagine not having had each one of them in my life.

And so it is.

Lenten Commitment

I shall spend the next 40 days enjoying life just as it is and not being afraid to live it to the fullest with what I have, right where I am.

Today I have...two sleepy pugs on either side of me.  Perfection.

Boo

Do you ever get frustrated?  And then act in a way that you are not proud of? And then become even more frustrated because you're frustrated?   And then even more frustrated because of the way you acted?

I do.  

Dammit.

I've a MAD crush

on this man...

which is a direct result of an obsession with this show...

as is my complete infatuation with the life and styles of these women...

and a determination to own each of these...

Seriously.  Why wouldn't you???

LOOK at this...

bare feet, hand in pocket, and...

a white button down, but you already knew I was a sucker for a man in a white button down.

And after all of that I can't help but think of this song...

XO

Today

It's snowy here, so it seems like a good day to bring back the blog.  What a weird winter, heh?

Today is kind of a big day for the Mezger's.  It's not as big a day as it will be two months from today, but it's still a pretty big day.  Doug has been the Store Director at the Denison Hy-Vee for ten months.  Today.  WHICH MEANS that I've officially been in Denison with him for six months.  Today.  I remember that day. 

It was a Wednesday.  Doug had the day off.  It had been a good Wednesday at school, which makes me think that Becky had probably been at Brookview that day, or Tara and I had a giggle fit during lunch about something that no one else understood, or Traci and I witnessed some crazy third graders dancing with the tetherball poles while on recess duty, or ultimately ALL OF THOSE THINGS happened on that day.  Possible.  But unlikely.  Because, as I said, it was a good day, not a SPECTACULAR day.  So anyway, I stopped by the mall to pick up some seersucker outfits I had been eyeing during my planning time over the past week for the twins for Easter.  Finding THE PERFECT seersucker blazer for J and THE PERFECT seersucker vest for R and the most incredible little baby jeans and white button down shirts to complete the ensemble, I set out from Crazy 8 for a quick browse at Fossil.  "Why not!?  It's basically payday.  I mean, it's less than two weeks away.  I'll just see what they have..."  But somewhere between Crazy 8 and Fossil, somewhere around Hollister and that little Iowa State lounge-y area the familiar scream of "MY LIFE...WOULD SUCK...WITHOUT YOU" came blaring from my purse.  Seeing Doug's face, I answered...

"Hey, honey.  What's up?"

"Marsha, Where are you?"

"At the mall.  Where are you?" I asked with a wink.

"They gave me Denison."

"Doug, I told you to stop playing games with me about being transferred."  We had been playing this "I might get transferred" game for over a year by this point and I was OVER the endless talk and anticipation .

"No Marsha, I'm serious.  I just got off the phone with Ms. Western Half of Hy-Vee.  They picked me for Denison."  I started shaking. 

"Umm, okay.  When do you start?" I thought Monday seemed quick, but fair.

"They want me there tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?  Tomorrow.  You're KIDDING me?  What about Ankeny?  I mean, don't you need to go say goodbye and pack your stuff?  Don't we need to find you a place to live?  How are we going to do this by TOMORROW?"

"I'm going to go to Ankeny in the morning to tie up the loose ends there.  I'll go to Denison when I'm done.  They want me there by noon.  I'll have to stay in a hotel."

"So tonight's the last night for you to be home with the boys and Lucy and I?"

"Well, I'll be home to visit, but yeah, I guess so."  The weight of this realization hits us both at this point. 

"Okay.  Do you need white shirts?"  This is how my mind works in times of great stress... The shock and stress of all of this will subside as soon as I pick up some white shirts. Totally, typically Marsha.

"Yes."

"Okay.  I'll go get some shirts and be right home."

The next morning Doug left the house at 5 a.m. armed with his essentials, including three crisp new white shirts, packed in his Hy-Vee duffle bag (What other kind of bag did you think he would use???) and set out for the Denison Hy-Vee by way of the Ankeny Hy-Vee.

The name of the game for the four months of "Doug in Denison, Marsha in West Des Moines" was SURVIVE.  We truly shifted into survival mode, "Don't think, just go" mode.  Doug had this new and incredible opportunity that he needed to acclimate himself to and I had a job, a house, a pug, and precious twin boys to take care of and a move and career change to prepare for.

Between April 13 and August 13 we rode the waves of change.  I resigned my job, the boys went to live with their father, our cars memorized the two hour journey between West Des Moines and Denison, the drive-thru workers at the McDonald's at Exit 46 became my friends and we packed up our first five years worth of memories and identities and furniture and dishes and pug and brought it all to Denison to start a new chapter. 

Since getting to Denison on August 13th I've felt myself unwind.  I've learned that sometimes unwinding isn't relaxing or pretty, sometimes it's more like unraveling, in a very post traumatic sort of way.  You've seen things unwind...like a rope or a string or something?  It starts out kind of slow and gets gradually faster and faster until the momentum of the unwinding, which is really spinning, nearly reverses the direction of the motion and at last there is a violent JOLT and everything is at a standstill.  (I think that JOLT is technically known as inertia.  How about that!?!  My life is a physics lesson!)  That's where I am, the JOLT.  It's an interesting place to be, the JOLT.  I try to see past the whiplash and into the joy everyday but somedays the JOLT gets the best of me.  Even still, I try not to judge my emotions and do my best to give thanks because this is a new place with new experiences and no one ever said new places and new experiences would be easy.