Lessons from an ice cream cone

It’s no secret in our family that our Husky, Lakota, is our baby.  She is so spoiled (even more by my mother than by us) and spends most of her days now curled up next to my desk watching me type.  She’s always been a picky eater, and we try not to give her treats unless she’s finished her food for the day. 

Then there was tonight.  Mind you, Lakota is almost 11 years old now.  Her hip bothers her sometimes.  But we’ve had strangers off the street ask us if she’s only three or four because she’s just so dang feisty and young-looking.  Well, tonight after I finished washing the dishes, Miss Lakota decided that even though she didn’t want to eat her food, she wanted a treat – now.  This dog stood by the closet door (where her treats are kept) and barked.  Then she ran around the dining room table three times, jumped on the couch, barked at the closet door, and jumped straight up in the air about three feet and landed on all fours.  I was hysterical.  She hasn’t done anything like that since she was two and jumped onto my parents’ dining room table from a standing position.  (No treats from grandma that day!)  Moral of this story?  Make me laugh and do something out of the ordinary and you’ll probably get that treat before you finish your food, Lakota. 

Gregg and I learned a thing or two about breaking the rules over the summer.  Normally, our conversations about dinner go something like, “What do you want me to make for dinner?”  “I don’t know, what do you want?”  Then one day, we both decided we weren’t all that hungry, but Gregg had a craving for ice cream.  Ice cream it was.  No protein, no green vegetable.  Just ice cream.  Because you know what?  Right now it’s just us – we’re not thinking of a child’s nutritional needs yet.  We’ve followed the rules, and ice cream for dinner isn’t a huge rule breaker – as long as it’s not every night :)  We actually did this a few times over the summer, and you know what?  They were probably some of my favorite nights with my husband.  Who doesn’t smile when they’re eating a crazy-good ice cream flavor? 

So ultimately, I guess what I’m saying is that I hope I’m that kind of mom when the time comes and the time that I’ve spent waiting has been for learning the extra lessons I’ll need along the way.  Rules are important and need to be followed – but hey, sometimes you just need to eat dessert first.   

Hitting the wall

Quite simply put, even though this week ended well, it was not a good week.

September 4 we hit our 18 month mark and all seemed right with the world. We could make it six more months with no problem. The way it turned out, I couldn’t even last one more week without an emotional breakdown.

Gregg has been carrying an increased amount of stress from his job, and I was feeling it. I was carrying an increased amount of stress from my job, and Gregg was feeling it. It was time for this referral to come. Really. I needed good news. Right now. The amount of time we have actually spent waiting for something to happen was just bowling me over and I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt that I had hit the wall.

Anger at our situation hit. The mental exhaustion. Total impatience. You name the feeling, I had it. I had more work this week than usual, and while that’s normally a good thing for me, it was making me even more miserable.

And everyone I talked to told me that things would happen “in God’s perfect timing.” My heart knows that this is true, but when you have hit the wall sometimes the reassurances you need to hear, the things that are so true, can be very painful when repeated so often. Sometimes I just want to scream “I’ve been waiting seven and a half years for it to be God’s perfect time, is He going to be ready anytime soon?”

Last night we went to church and I was praying for the patience to get through the rest of this wait. Suddenly, in my mind’s eye, I could see myself hugging a young child and feeling happy and I knew that there would be an end to this wait – eventually. Tears started welling up in my eyes.

I thought that this last six months wouldn’t be so bad to get through if I put my mind to powering though it. It appears I was wrong. If the last week is a forecast of the next six months, I’ll be holding on tight – it’s going to be a bumpy ride to the finish.

18 months and counting

Yesterday Gregg and I marked 18 months of waiting for a referral. On one hand, I can’t believe that we’ve actually made it this far, waited this long. On the other hand, I can’t believe that we still have up to six months (or longer?) to wait. Right now I’m trying to think along the lines of, we’ve made it through 18 months already – six months should be nothing compared to what we’ve already waited out. I’ve mentioned before that I can be an absolute workaholic and that can help the weeks pass quickly. Well, flu and bronchitis season is just around the corner and that’s good business for a medical transcriptionist who deals primarily with general practitioners. I’m hoping the fall and winter will blow by just as quickly as the summer did. Then I have to wonder, too – isn’t it a really horrible thing to wish your life away? Shouldn’t we just be enjoying it? Again, I guess it just comes down to waiting for the one big thing. 

Some days I still feel like the wait ahead of us could stretch the full six months, other days I feel we could get a call at any time. I do take a little bit of comfort tonight in knowing that sometime in the next six months Gregg and I will be able to look at a photograph and say “That’s our child. That’s the one we’ve waited for so many years to see.”