Big Number 11--Travel!



Me with my grandma in Colorado,
probably around '86 or so...

Travel!  How could I forget it in my Finley Kid Education List?  I have the travel bug and always have, and I come by it honest from my grandma Evelyn's heritage.  They're adventurers and explorers and geographers by nature, and while I don't share my grandma's obsession with looking at maps just for the fun of it, I share almost all the rest (including a genuine love for [almost] every tree I meet, though I do not hug them, ha ha). 

I always wanted to do the summer of hostels in Europe when I was younger and never did, but I did have incredible opportunities that my parents were so stellar to fund and encourage, and they've contributed much to who I am today.  Very early on, my Aunt Josie or my grandparents would take me on road trips to Colorado, which first opened my eyes up to landscapes (deserts, mesas, mountains), cultures (Native Americans), and climates (cold) different than I'd experienced at home in North Texas.

Hawai'ian lu'au on the big island



Then, when I was around 9 or so, my mom started working for American Airlines, and Mom and Dad were so cool as to start adventuring around on weekend trips, and some longer, to various places of interest.  We did the Pacific Northwest down into northern California, the Northeast from Maine down to Rhode Island, D. C.,  Hawai'i, Cancun, and lots of places in between. 

Later on, they gave me the experiences of going overseas to visit Israel at one point and Italy at another.


Atop the Mt. of Olives, Jerusalem &
the Dome of the Rock behind me

What's cool about it, besides the great fun, is how eye-opening it is.  Even just experiencing the physical input of terrain and climate tells you quite a bit about the people who live in a place.  Then you start to experience architecture, history, and interaction, and many of your narrow beliefs from your little bubble of "home" start to become enriched, challenged, or obliterated.  But they do not remain unchanged.  I've never returned from a trip without having a broader understanding and appreciation for people and for God and His creation.  He'll definitely use the experience to talk to us if we're listening.

Mark Twain said, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." I don't put tons of weight on everything Mark Twain thought, nor do I think travel is the only way to challenge one's thinking, but I like that quote nonetheless.  I'm a lover of Truth. I think prejudice (according to the official dictionary definition) and narrow-mindedness are usually the result of ignorance rather than understanding.  Travel helps with that.  It doesn't make us less convicted about what's good and true.  I think it provides opportunity to solidify our convictions about what's good and true.  I've seen plenty of people who are suspicious of anything different that might challenge their convictions, but I don't think having convictions challenged makes a person less convicted.  And when it comes to spiritual things, if we really, truly trust Yahweh, He'll be the first one to challenge our convictions, believe me!


The 1997 signing of the Balanced
Budget Agreement in D.C. That white hair
behind us is Newt Gingrich being
interviewed. When he was done,
they interviewed me! I zealously
 solved all the world's problems.

So travel has definitely jarred me, given me a new appreciation for people's differences and an awareness that so many differences are not as scary as some would perceive them; they're just different approaches to the basic human issues we all face.  I do not agree with everyone else, but I've had lots of unfair and debilitating preconceptions eradicated, and I'm glad.  Those untruths were not helpful.

(Plus, beyond all the serious mumbo jumbo, did I mention that travel is sooooo fun?!)



Inside St. Peter's in Rome

When I moved to the Northeast, it was a much bigger adjustment and adventure than I would've expected since it's just another region in my native USA.  The things I was used to buying from the grocery store shelves in Texas were not appearing on Boston's shelves.  The accent was a bit unusual.  The political and cultural vibe was different.  I couldn't find a church quite like what I was after.  But what I did find was that Yankees are, well, people.  Of all things.  And I had to face a ridiculous prejudice in myself that I didn't even know was there about the whole tired North/South thing that pervades part of the culture lingering in Texas.  And if a Northerner went to Texas, they'd have they're minds broadened about the richness of Southern culture and that most Southerners are not stuck in some hillbilly rut. 



Sort of like Frankfurt's airport;
Israel's "police" is their military.
Automatic weapons inspire fear,
for sure!

One cannot walk through Frankfurt, Germany's airport, with uniformed guards carrying semi-automatic weapons standing at their various posts, without getting a bit of understanding about the people there and what must influence them, giving some compassion for what might've been misunderstood just moments prior. 

And I'd always thought that the Bible story about Sodom and Gomorrah where Lot's wife was turned into a pillar of salt was so weird.  I was always like, "A pillar of...salt?"  Then I went to where that had happened, right off the Dead Sea.  And wouldn't you know it, because of all the mineral deposits there, there are actually pillars of salt everywhere.  So Lot's wife just turned into the landscape.  It made total sense then.  It was the coolest connection that made me think differently about a lot of strange things in the Bible.  I realized then that there are probably a lot more totally logical explanations out there for other stuff, too.

So, having run all over the place in my thoughts, it is a big priority to me for my kids to experience the shock and the big fun and the challenge that usually comes from the wonderful gift of travel. 

Add it to the list! 







To Be a Finley Kid...10 Things You'll Learn

Here, for your looking-into-the-Finley's-life reading pleasure, is a short list (in random order) of the things we insist our kids must have learned at some point under our tutelage before we'll consider them totally, adequately equipped to enter adulthood.  It's actually not all that brilliant, but it's our little list nonetheless, and gender is no exemption from completion of any item.  Also note that knowing God is the paramount attribute we want our kids to have.  It's not on the list 'cuz it's a given.

One...
     How to perform basic cooking and maybe a few extra fancy culinary abilities just for good measure.  This will include full competency in several basic recipes that, when taken together, cover a decent gamut of cooking knowledge.

Two...
    How to do laundry, and do it well.  If this one sounds obvious, you'd be surprised at how many people have to figure it all out in adulthood.  I wouldn't know this from experience.  Of course, I'm talking about other people (cough, shifty eyes).

Three...
    Basic music theory and piano.  If they also want to learn another instrument, so be it.  But from mine and Jed's musical experience, there is no substitute for the foundation learned from piano.  Plus, music is extremely mathematical and helps strengthen all kinds of cool areas in the brain.  And it's fun to be able to pick up an instrument at a party and get everyone singing.

Four...
    Basic outdoor survival skills.  I have no idea what this means.  I mean, I know what it means but not how to execute it.  I feel like I could catch a fish and build a fire, um, if I had a fishing pole and matches.  Clearly, we're not experts at all of these.  I DO know how to clean a fish, which is pretty awesome, really.  I like to think that I'm scrappy and resourceful, so I'll teach my kids that, and then I'll enlist the experts for all the rest.

Five...
    How to shoot a gun.  Yes, that's right.  And with precision, too, so back off.  ;)

Six...
    Self-defense.  I'm impressed with how much discipline is required in most formal fighting styles, and while this might be the least important one, to me, in the whole list, I'd love to see it through.

Seven...
    How to be a member of a team.  I want every one of our kids to be involved in some kind of sport at some point or another in their lives.  Even though we plan to homeschool doesn't mean we'll put blankets over our children when in public and shield them from reality.  Every so often, we'll drag our pasty selves out of the house and make some noise.  Clearly, Adelaide will be getting that volleyball scholarship into some magnificent college, but for all of them, I want them to experience the character building that comes from teamwork and competition and pushing one's self.

Eight...
    How to care for someone smaller or less able.  The older ones will get a healthy dose of this with their younger siblings, but especially for our youngest, we'll go out of our way to find or create opportunities for them to be responsible and care for younger ones.  Hopefully, this will help build selflessness and kindness among a slew of other things.  And will make that first year with a first newborn less...uh...shocking.

Nine...
    Bible proficiency.  We live our lives by relationship with the Father first and foremost.  The Bible is an extraordinary gift and tool that He's given to help support that relationship and teach us so much of the history and Truth and meaning that most matters to Yahweh.  I want my kids to have thoughtfully read it through and had total license to open any discussion and ask any question on the matter. 

Ten...
    Money management.  How to work and earn, how to tithe and offer, how to be generous, how to pay one's self and save, how to invest, how to spend, how to resist the siren song of unnecessary debt.  In fact, by the time we're done with them, they will loathe debt.

There are more, I know (riding a horse, for whatever reason, plus manners, having a garden, and another huge one I just remembered and then forgot), but 10 is a nice "list number," and this covers some biggies.  Are there any big ones to you that I'm leaving out?  I'd love to hear what they are!  One of the coolest things about families is how very different they all are.  I'm most inspired by the really structured, disciplined families that run like well-oiled machines with every member knowing and playing its own helpful role.  The reason, of course, is because that's not my greatest strength. 

But if nothing else, our kids will be responsible, caring, musical adults who walk with Yahweh and who could win a fight if pushed to it.  ;)

Weird Strangers Lurking

These two thin towers have been following me around, and I've been totally oblivious to it.  They're kind of like skinny columns, I guess, but flat rather than in 3D, totally equal to each other. 

I just recently got this crazy longing to go some degree of blonde.  If you think that's strange, it really is, but I'm all about it, reason be tossed to the winds.  I haven't dyed my hair in years, and to choose the right shade for me can be tricky since all my features are so dark, but my Vermont skin is pretty pale.  And my mom always says that my natural shade is the absolute best on me.  I agree with her, but no matter.  I'm feeling the blonde.  Little did I know, though, these weird tower-line-guys were shaking their heads in disapproval.  Are they working for my mom?  For "What Not to Wear?"  Whatever.  I didn't even know they were there.

I also have a slight personal vendetta against artificial sweetener, though I know that many respectable people insist they are perfectly fine.  However, on very rare occasions, I'll reach for a diet soda (normally if I want a soda, I just get the regular, delicious, full-sugar variety).  I bought a Coke Zero the other day and ended up placing the nearly-full bottle in the fridge, because it just was pretty nasty.  Meanwhile, the tower-line-guys applauded me for refusing the remainder of my beverage.  I get it: I don't like artificial sweetener either.

Why do they care so much about my health and beauty choices?  Well, I've been calling them tower-line-guys, but maybe they're girls.

I've recently been pushing myself to get more water.  As I chug a bottle each morning to start my day on the right track, the tower-line-guys high-five each other and nod their encouragement in my direction.

If there was just one of them, I've come to find out, it would be a totally different story.  If there's just one tower-line-guy, he (or she?) is much more forgiving about what I do.  This one doesn't really care.  But you get two, and look out!  They're all up in your business!

So just who the heck are these...uh...line-guys?  I say again that I had no idea they even existed until the one day I was just not feeling well.  And you know how much they care about health and wellness.  What are they?  The lifestyle police?  Personal trainers?  So maybe I'm not in picture-perfect shape...back off!  Then my friend made a suggestion to me about something that might make me feel better.

I was stunned at her suggestion.  But it's how I met these line-guys.  I followed her advice, waited a couple minutes, then suddenly turned around, and there they were!

Lines.  Two of them.  Grinning from ear to ear.  And pink. 

Yep.  I'm pregnant!

(For more information, please see "On Giving Birth to My IUD.")

Writer Sabbatical, then More

Total silence has settled over the past couple of weeks here, but I've not disappeared.  Sorry for the lull!

I have been distracted by crazy stuff and keeping busy with life.  Maybe I'll get into more of that later, but here's a quick update.

Adelaide's Four-Molar Race was triumphantly ended officially by the bottom-right molar after all.  Then the Three-Molar Race swiftly took the torch and kept the wacky teething shenanigans going until it was brought to a confetti-filled extravanza when the bottom-left molar won.  If you think this stuff is boring, come move in with us when the Two-Molar race revving in the wings decides to take off.  The top two molars are positioning themselves even now. 

Levi's been absolutely blind-siding me with his pure-minded observations on life and how he says "clickly" instead of "quickly."  I can't believe I'll start homeschooling him in about 15 months; this reality is also blind-siding me.

And the big news unfolding is that it's time for me to start my first book.  I just feel it and know it and am a tad wide-eyed as I face it.  But I'm ready and am excited to jump into what I've always known was one day coming.  There's a giant, shrieking grin inside me, trying to bust through all my cells as this reality sets in and as I try to evaluate my life and schedule to make changes that will accomodate this happy endeavor.  For the longest time, it wasn't time.  But now it's time.  (*Shriek!*)

So my brief sabbatical from posting is finally broken even if only by a quick checking in, but thanks for stopping in to read, and here's to lots more writing to come, in whatever form it comes.

File Under: Things Never to Share Publicly

...and yet, there's this little voice that tells me it must be shared.

After a week of gray days and fairly constant rain, the sunny warmth drew us outside for a walk this afternoon.  Jed stayed home to finish his nap, so I pushed Adelaide along in her stroller and Levi skipped ahead and behind and all around.  It was just going to be a 20-minute walk or so.  No big deal.

But five minutes in, Levi stopped and exclaimed that he needed to go potty.  Now, he's a boy, so when we can be pretty discreet, and when we're far away from an actual potty, I'll let him go in nature.  We were near a beautiful, giant Christmas tree whose bottom branches formed a circle with about a 15-foot diameter.  It stood on the yard-like strip of grass between the sidewalk and the condo carports on the other side.  There was a void in its broad skirt of branches on a back portion of the tree, and I directed Levi to sort of enter inside the tree from that empty spot.  No one was around.  He went in and dropped his pants, which I thought somewhat odd, but didn't care.  I told him to hurry and began looking around sort of nervously.

It's so rare to actually pass someone on this path, but don't you know, this day would be different.  This day would give us a spectator.   It was a guy, and he appeared to be in college, so I figured, "If anyone would understand, surely this dude would."  As he approached, I glanced over at Levi to see if he was finished, and he was just standing there, pants around his ankles, arms to his sides.  "What is he doing?"  I thought with my nerves starting to constrict.  No sooner had I thought the thought than, and just prepare yourselves for this, but two long poops fell from his behind.  Onto the grass. 

Just like a little horse.  Out in a pasture.  No concerns in the world.  Just an animal doing whatever he wants.  In public.  For passersby.  There's no shame.  Only freedom and joy.

I quickly searched for a deep well into which I could jump head first, considered removing the drain grate from the street next to me and disappearing there, but instead, I looked right up at the guy, and smiled, "Excuse us."

Then I buried my head in my arms on the stroller pusher-bar and burst into uncontrollable laughter. 

Awkward.  The guy just smiled and kept going, oh so graciously and calmly.

When I looked back up at Levi, he was looking around at stuff and pulling up his pants.  I decided if ever there was a "teachable moment," this had to be one, and I gave him the run-down about what is not and what is (sort of) acceptable in outdoor voiding etiquette.  He genuinely seemed confused as to why that was the case, and I just gave my best explanation followed by, "Just don't do it."  How could I have missed this important tidbit of distinction that first time he "went" in the trees?  Things you just don't think about until you're staring it down in real time.

We made our circuit, and when we passed back by "The Spot" on our way home, Levi sauntered by, then ran back and shouted, "Hey, that's where I went poop!"  Fortunately, no passersby.  Unfortunately, I don't think I communicated the gravity of the situation.

I mean, what's worse?  The dog owner who doesn't pick up after their dog, or the HUMAN owner who doesn't pick after their HUMAN?  I left it there for two reasons:  I had no means by which to tidily remove it, and it was hidden.  OK, three reasons:  it's good fertilizer, dang it.

How was I supposed to know I should've brought along one of those little plastic baggies?! 

Anyway, I can assure you that now we both know better.  No more free-little-pony-in-the-field for Levi.

And Then There Was Adelaide

We knew her 18 months before she was conceived.  We knew her name was Adelaide, a reference to the noble stature we are privileged and expected to assume as sons of God.  We prayed for her and called for her, and our apostle had a dream about her until...there she was!

Mild-tempered, quick-minded, and full of giggles, she has made this year fun and fast.  Starting with a fairly uneventful and, dare I say, easy labor (thanks, at the end, to the epidural I tried yet again to avoid until I changed my mind, ha!), this first year has pretty much followed suit (recurring thrush and teething episodes aside [and for which there was no epidural]).

She has ensured that she totally owns her daddy, has earned the affections of her big brother, and has also begun to learn to put that big brother in his place if necessary.

The dark, almost black eyes, the widest-mouth screams of protest, the head tossing from side to side as she crawls around excitedly, the bouncy dance done to Daddy's beat-boxing, the little head-butt nuzzles, and the various laughs from cackly to robust all speak of "Adelaide: Year One" in our memories.

Miss Adelaide Vivian, you are such a joy and a glory and a blessing to our family!  Yahweh has great purpose for your life, and we bless you to know Him and to love Him, to love authority, obedience, and the total trusting yieldedness of being off the edge in the spirit.  May you never be hindered by perceived limits as you take Him at His word.

We love you, sweet Bitty.  Happy Birthday!

A Year Ago Today...

...was my due date with Adelaide:  May 20.  I was as big as a house.  Mom was in town, and we took Levi to the park to let him play and to get my mind off the whole impending-delivery thing that takes over one's thoughts.

I got my hair trimmed that day, and it was such a quick trim that my stylist took me back to the massage room and gave me a foot massage to relax the aches and maybe induce labor.  I had told her that I was feeling "funny" that day.  Something was happening.  And she got a great tip.

At church that night, a friend said, "Oh, you're going into labor tonight.  You have that different walk going on."  (I think "different walk" equates to "funky duck waddle" or possibly "been-riding-a-horse-too-long mosey.")  I told her I felt "funny" and that I had the same notion.

Lo and behold, I awoke that night at around 1:30 a.m. with mild, but consistent contractions. 

Adelaide was on her way! 

Can't believe it's been one day shy of a year that we met our little sweetheart.