My Caribbean Cruise Blog Day 3

Cruiser’s Log, Day 3 (1/11/10)

I didn’t sleep so well last night. I had back and abdominal cramps most of the night. I wish I had brought some Tylenol PM. I took some simethicone, some Pepcid AC, and some ibu profin. I went to sleep around 1:30am, but woke up again to go to the bathroom. I woke up again at 4am and couldn’t sleep, so I sat up for an hour. I went out on the balcony and saw that we were surrounded by fog--I think we were passing near Cuba then. Then I sat and played Bejeweled on my phone until I felt sleepy again. I woke up again at 7 and decided that I’d had enough. I got up and looked outside and saw that it was beginning to get light and there was a body of land beside us. I checked the captain’s log TV channel and saw that we were running parallel to the north side of the Dominican Republic. It was about sunrise, so I wanted to watch, but we were sailing towards the sunrise. I could watch it on TV, which has a channel showing the view from our forward deck. I watched the island take form as the light increased.

Scott got up and we got ready and headed to breakfast. We again ate at the “Garden Café” (enjoying the view of a beautiful little island that a man nearby thought must be Cher‘s private island!), then we went back to our room to change into our swimsuits and get ready to go. We went down to the Starlight Theater and waited for our tour to be called. It took a while, but when it finally was called, we headed down to deck 4 and went out to our boats. We had anchored out in the harbor and boats came up to the ship to pick us up. I didn’t know this, but the part of the Dominican Republic that we were at was a peninsula jutting out from the mainland. We were surprised when our boat took us back to the little island that we had been admiring! It’s called Cayo Leventado. We got off the boat and began walking through the shops to get to the beach. All of the proprietors were trying to get us to stop and look at their merchandise and buy from them. “I give you a great deal.” We finally ended up buying a shirt for Billy and the guy talked us into a dress/coverup for me. That is the part I like the least. I feel sorry for them and wonder if they live in poverty, but I can’t support them all and they are all so pushy.

When we got to the beach, the weather was nice, but it was cloudy and windy. We sat in beach chairs for a bit, then went swimming, I have to interject what I said before, that I have never seen an ocean (except while flying over it) and have certainly never been swimming in an ocean. It was scary and fun. I was scared at how deep it could get beyond the shallows because I am not a good swimmer. And scary because I was thinking about things like sharks in the water. We alternated sitting on the beach, swimming, and beach-combing. We collected lots of shells and interesting rocks and some pieces of coral. We also saw a crab being tossed by the surf. I tried to get a picture of him, but the waves were so rough that he would get washed back out before I could focus on him and snap the picture. Then it started to rain. I didn‘t mind so much because it was still warmer than home and since we were already wet from swimming, rain didn‘t really bother me. But the wind was pretty fierce and our towels got wet from the rain. I decided it was warmer to get back in the water, so we stayed out there for a while. It stopped raining and the wind stopped blowing, but when it started raining again, we headed back to the ship, after spending maybe three hours there. When we got back, we showered and went to lunch at where? You guessed it, the “Garden Café!” Then we came back to our room to relax.

I was so tired and Scott took a nap, but I didn’t want to because I wanted to be good and exhausted so I would sleep tonight. But I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I eventually succumbed. When I woke up, the ship was moving and the Dominican Republic was getting further away.

Interesting point: I didn’t realize that we are never (I think) actually going to enter the Caribbean sea. I know these are the Caribbean islands, but we are actually staying in the Atlantic Ocean.

Scott wasn’t feeling too well, so we sat around and watched TV for a bit. After a while, we went through the shops, asked a question at guest services and went to look at our portraits taken last night. We found a few we liked and ordered them. We pick them up tomorrow night. Then we went in search of dinner. We decided to go to the “Indigo,” one of the main dining rooms. The food was good, but the service was pretty bad. It took less time to get our food than to get someone to take our order, no one took our drink order until our meal was done, and we waited nearly 30 minutes after our meal was done before we got our dessert.

We walked through, checking stuff out, getting drink refills. Then we returned to the room to rest because we both forgot to put on sunscreen and even though it was RAINING, I got a sunburn! Even though Scott isn’t red, we thought that might be the reason for his feeling ill. Our steward is not feeling well, so we have a temporary replacement, Rommel, and he exchanged our beach towels for us, saving me a trip back downstairs. I am praying our swimsuits and my sarong and beach bag dry out by tomorrow morning!

I feel a little weird being so disconnected from the outside world. I wish I could talk to the kids, but the charges are like $6 per minute. I am also scared of an emergency, not that it would help us to know about it, and them not being able to reach us, because we didn’t leave any numbers to the ship. We thought we would leave our cell phones on, but when we found out that text messaging data transfer rates were $19.95/1 MB, we decided to turn them off to keep from being charged a fortune. I feel like an irresponsible mother.

I had thought with all my worries and fears in the beginning that I was not cut out for travel and maybe I should give it up. But I am really enjoying this trip and don’t really mind that we haven’t seen the sun or that it’s been raining or some bad restaurant service.

We watched House and The Bucket List and Scott read. Then we ordered room service. That’s the great thing about being on the ship--room service is free! After the food was gone and the movie was over, I went to bed and Scott stayed up to read.

My Caribbean Cruise Blog Day 2

Cruiser’s Log, Day 2 (1/10/10)

I woke up again at 7:30am, but decided to roll over and go back to sleep. This is our day at sea, so there is absolutely no reason to get up early. We finally got up about 9am, giving me a total of 13 hours of sleep (minus the three times I woke up in the night)! I guess I needed that!

I had worried about being seasick, but I haven’t had any trouble at all. The rocking of the ship almost gives you a dizzy feeling. It makes you feel kind of floaty (I know, duh, right?) and is sort of soothing and relaxing. I have never had an alcoholic drink in my life, but the word “tipsy” comes to mind when I want to describe the feeling of being on a moving ship.

We got ready and headed off to breakfast. We ended up eating at the same restaurant, the “Garden Café.” We split up, agreeing that whoever reached the area we sat in last night, would grab a table and wait for the other one. I got my food and headed that way, looking for Scott. I kept walking around and couldn’t find him or even an empty table anywhere near our place from last night. I overheard an employee saying that this was the breakfast rush, that everyone sleeps late today, and that there was more seating down further. I kept walking and looking, but didn’t see Scott or an empty table. I ended up at the doors to the outdoor deck. By this time, my food was cold. I was sure Scott had found a seat and I was just missing him, so I gave up, sat down outside and started eating. I finished quickly and went to the bar to buy a Pepsi and headed back inside. I finally found him, plates in hand, looking for me. He hadn’t sat down and his food was cold. I felt horrible. I ate without him while he was still looking for me! We got him some fresh, hot food and headed back outside. He ate and I got an unlimited soda upgrade, more food, and then he got an unlimited soda upgrade. $50 bucks each but individual sodas were $2.24 each. After we finished eating, we headed back to the cabin to relax a bit and I sat at the desk, blogging and enjoying the view with the sliding deck door open. I wanted to write on the balcony, but was worried about a sudden jolt sending my laptop flying overboard! Scott said I was a chicken!

At some point, we met our cabin steward, Garry, who is quite funny and says, every time he sees us, “Yo! Scott! Robin!” We thought the bed runner would make a good beach blanket, so he went in search of some smaller ones for us and delivered them to our room later in the day!

We walked around and explored a bit more. It strikes me that the ship is like a cross between a hotel and a mall, with some entertainment thrown in. Kind of like the Crown Center in Kansas City, with the hotels attached, all the shops, and even a movie theater. We have multiple bars and restaurants, a spa, a bowling alley, lounges, pools, a fitness center, an arcade, a theater, shops, etc.

We seem to be stuck in a rut already as we again ate at the “Garden Café.” This time we ate together! They had really cushy booths and it was near the window with a great view of the ocean. An elderly man offered to take a picture of us together.

We again strolled around and checked out the shops. Then we went to the theater to hear “Flash” Gordon give a talk about shopping in St. Thomas and received lots of coupons for free merchandise at the shops in St. Thomas and also raffle entries for drawings for prizes from the shops.

Afterwards, we showered and changed into nicer clothes and went out for formal portraits to be taken. Then we went to dinner. We were going to eat at the fancier restaurant (break our monotony), the “Summer Palace,” but when we got there, we looked over a menu posted outside and we didn’t see much that we would care for, so we decided to go to “La Cucina,” the Italian restaurant on board. Scott had the chicken parmesan and I had a seared salmon which was really good.

We walked around after dinner and saw that the pool and hot tubs were nearly empty, so we decided to take advantage of it and changed into our swimsuits. We stopped at the gift shop and bought a tote bag, then went by to see “Flash” Gordon to get a couple of vouchers, refilled our drinks, and went to the hot tub. We spent some time there and then retired to our room to relax and watch a ship TV channel, where they had recorded the bar’s “game show” called “the Not-So-Newlywed Game.”

For a late night snack, we tried to go to the “Great Outdoors” eating area, but the food selection wasn’t that great. I ate a bit, while Scott watched me. Then we went to get drink refills and found the “Blue Lagoon Café” where we found a better selection of food, but worse service (which is bad since the “Great Outdoors” is a buffet, no service!). Then it was back to the bar for another refill, a quick stop at the customer service desk to ask a question, then to check out the arcade where Scott played a round of Guitar Hero. After that it was back to the room for the night where we changed our clocks ahead one hour and watched some TV.

My Caribbean Cruise Blog Day 1

I debated back and forth about whether to post all of my logs in one post or spread them out. I think for the sake of adding pictures, I will post them one at a time, so bear with me.

Cruiser’s Log, Day 1 (1/9/10)

We actually got on the ship! Let the fun and relaxation begin!

Well, first things first, I was panicked and nervous that we wouldn’t get to the ship on time. Our plane was arriving in Miami at 12:45pm, our cruise departed at 4pm. No problem, right? Well, everything I read said we needed to be on board 2 hours before departure and that check in would take 30-45 minutes. That narrowed down our time! We landed in Miami early (about 12:20), so I was happy. But we were so early that another plane was at our terminal, so we were stuck waiting. Of course this problem was compounded by the fact that I had to go to the bathroom reeeeeeeeeeeeeally bad and hadn’t been able to for a while because turbulence had necessitated the captain leaving the “fasten seatbelt” sign on. So, I was beginning to be in pain and getting anxious about the time.

We were able to get in to another terminal finally, and we got off the plane and headed towards baggage claim. I found a bathroom. Then we waited for our luggage. And waited. And waited. It was nearly 45 minutes that we stood there waiting (after the walk to the baggage claim and the bathroom breaks). It was 1:40 when we headed to find a taxi and I was so worried we would arrive late and they wouldn’t let us on the ship.

The taxi ride was about 20 minutes and we were able to see a bit of Miami. I found it interesting that the Port of Miami is in downtown Miami. I would have thought downtown would have been more inland, but it’s not. It was amazing driving past all the cruise lines’ docks and seeing the huge ships and the yachts at the marinas.

I should mention that it was foggy and raining in Miami. We had come in search of sun, but I didn’t really mind because even with a temperature of only 45 degrees, it sure beat the temps and weather conditions in Kansas City! The morning we left, I think it was seven degrees. Which was an improvement from the day before when the HIGH was one degree and it was still snowing. This season, so far, we have had 23 inches of snow! The average for the whole season is 20 and we still have a couple of months of winter to go! Let’s not even talk about the wind chill because it’s been terribly windy as well. So, 45 degrees felt like a heat wave to us, and who cares about precipitation that is not frozen in nature!

So, we made it to our port, checked our suitcase, went through security, filled out a health questionnaire, and headed to check-in. I was glad to see there were so many other people still making their way through. It made me feel like we weren’t so late after all. In fact, I had seen a guy from Norwegian Cruise Lines at the airport picking up someone from our flight (possibly the people from Kansas City that we saw on both of our planes and now on the ship). I was sure they wouldn’t turn away anyone that they had gone to the trouble of picking up at the airport. We started checking in and when we presented our birth certificates and driver’s licenses, the lady handed us a memo that said we would not be able to return home by air in the event of an emergency since we didn’t have passports. She gave us our room card/on-board credit card, our room assignment, more paperwork and sent us up to board. I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

I had read that it was hard to find your room aboard cruise ships, but it really wasn’t. We knew we were on deck 11, so we pushed 11 on the elevator and when we got off, there were signs indicating which direction to go for which room. It was quite a walk, but we got there. I had also read that the rooms were teeny-tiny, little more than a small box. I don’t know if it's just because my hubby sprung for the balcony suite or what, but our room is not that small. There’s room to get around, lots of storage space, a queen or king size bed (not sure which), a decent-sized bathroom, a pull-out couch, a desk, and our balcony with deck chairs. Pessimistic me wondered what a balcony would entail, a view of the pool or the galley or something interior. It was great to find that the balcony was actually exterior and we could really see the ocean and the islands!

We came in and unpacked our carry-ons and explored our room a bit. We sat on the balcony for a long time, watching the sea gulls, taking pictures of Miami, etc. We read our daily newsletter and the information binder, and watched a little of the TV channels that gave us info about the ship. Then we had a lifeboat drill. The alarm sounded and we got our life jackets out of the closet and went downstairs to the theater, which was our rendezvous point. We heard info about what to do in case of emergency, then we were released. We went back to our room and put away the life vests and sat down. I was reading over some more info, when I felt like something was bumping underneath me. I thought I was imagining things until I looked out over the balcony and noticed a shore landmark had gotten closer, so I realized we were moving. We stood on the balcony, watching everything, waving at boatmen and people on shore, and took pictures. We backed out, turned around, and headed out to sea. It was sort of mysterious when we left because there was fog on the water, so it looked really cool!

Once there was nothing left to see but water all around us, we headed in and got ready to leave the room in search of food. We had only eaten a brunch in the Dallas airport. I’d only had one sausage McMuffin all day. I was starting to get a headache and with the waves being pretty choppy, I decided to head off any problems by taking some Dramamine and some ibu profin. We walked around, exploring a little bit and eventually found one of the many dining rooms, the “Garden Café“. They have food, buffet style. There are a few restaurants on board that charge a cover fee (specialty restaurants), but for the others, you just go in and start eating--the cruise fare covers your food! We ate a good meal and explored a little more. We went down to the “shore excursions” desk and signed up for some activities in our ports of call. In Samana, Dominican Republic, we will be doing the Cayo Levantado Beach Escape. In St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands, we will be going to the Coral World Park. In Tortola, British Virgin Islands, we will be experiencing a Dolphin Encounter. We haven’t booked anything on the cruise line’s private island of Great Stirrip Cay, Bahamas yet, but will likely do some snorkeling there. When we get back in to Miami, we have booked a tour of the Everglades.

After that, we went back to our cabin. It was only about 8pm, but since we had been up since 3am, we were exhausted and took showers and went to bed early. I loved leaving the balcony door open and getting the fresh air and hearing the waves. Along with the gentle rocking, I was asleep in no time. That is, of course, after the cabin steward came in and dropped off our daily newsletter, scaring me to death! I had heard a knock, but had been dozing and was too sleepy to make out where it was coming from and what it meant. After two knocks, he came right in. I was disoriented, so just laid there, and I heard him say, “here is your daily newsletter, sorry, good night,“ and he left without me even seeing him! Anyways, I woke up at 11 to visit the bathroom and again at some point in the middle of the night. At that time, I guess Scott couldn’t sleep so he was up reading, but had pulled the curtain that separates the bed from the sitting area, so as not to disturb me.

Thoughts From Un Avion...or...Details of My Wedding

Saturday, January 9, 2010

As I type this, I am somewhere in the neighborhood of 39,000 feet over the Texas/Louisiana border. I am on-board a Boeing 767, headed for Miami, the end of my flying journey (for now anyways), but only the beginning of the real journey. My new husband is sitting two seats away from me (do I smell? Ha, ha), sleeping, and we are headed for our honeymoon cruise. Yes, we got married nearly four weeks ago, but what with the kids, Christmas, a trip to California, we had to put it off. I have never been on a cruise before. Heck, I have never even seen the ocean or a beach except for when I flew over it on my way back and forth to Germany over a decade ago. I am landlocked or a land-lubber or whatever you want to call me!

So, am I excited? I should be. I have always wanted to take a cruise and see the Caribbean. After Christmas vacation and four consecutive snow days, I am ready for a break from my three children. A honeymoon alone with my new husband! But the truth is that I am nervous, scared, and I feel guilty. I feel guilty for leaving my children for eight days. The longest I have ever been away from them is four days. They may get on my nerves, but I still love them and they need their mama. I feel bad not being there and being pretty much incommunicado. What if my son misses me and wants to say hi? Eight days is a long time. I know everyone says that I deserve this, but I feel bad about running off without my children. I feel a general unease, worried that something will go wrong while I am gone. Guess that is the control-freak in me. Nothing will go wrong as long as I am there to hold it together. Silly, I know, but admitting it is half the battle, right? I’ve felt like that my whole life, which I guess is why I am such a homebody. Of course, I have had instances that made it seem true, but that’s a whole different therapy session right there!

I suppose the nervousness and fear is partly related to that. I am getting more nervous about flying the more that I fly. I didn’t used to mind, but it bothers me more these days. My main reason for fear is that I feel like Murphy’s Law has singled me out. Anything that can go wrong usually does go wrong for me. I have a supreme fear that we will be denied passage on the cruise once we get there because we do not have passports. Everything I read says that if you are making a “closed loop voyage”, you can present a birth certificate and driver’s license instead, but I still worry as they highly recommend having the passport anyways. I have had a hard time getting excited because I don’t want to picture myself on a ship or a beach, just to have that beautiful little daydream dashed to pieces, when they refuse us passage and we are stuck in Miami. There are worse places to be stuck, but still, it ain’t no cruise! I’m protecting myself from severe disappointment. Even now, I am having a slight panic attack, sure that I have forgotten Scott’s birth certificate, though I know that I know that I know that I checked and rechecked our paperwork.

My overactive imagination sees a hurricane stranding us on an island and our only form of rescue is by plane, but we can’t go because Homeland Security won’t allow anyone to enter the U.S. by air without a passport. Or finding out there is a dire emergency at home and we can’t get there, stuck on the cruise, having no fun worrying about what’s going on at home.

I know that worrying will not change anything. I know I should stow it because worrying about the kids isn’t going to keep them safe or make them behave for my new mother-in-law. I know worrying isn’t going to get us on-board that ship or prevent any hurricanes. I know that what worry will do is to make me miserable and probably physically ill. And rob me of my joy. But once the fear monster is here, he’s hard to get rid of.

So, while I wait for Murphy to find a way to “get” me, or else find a way to relax and enjoy myself, I thought I might reflect on my wedding, as I promised previously, when I told the tale of us.

I had been waiting for my divorce to finalize for a long time. I never thought I would be someone who is waiting for one marriage to end so I can immediately begin a new one. I hadn’t planned on even dating at this point, let alone planning a wedding. But you know what “they” say about the best-laid plans. I cringed every time someone asked when the wedding was going to be and we said we didn’t know and if pressed further, we had to admit I was waiting on my divorce to finalize. I felt like such a hussy or something equally nasty and rumor-worthy. It didn’t do to try to explain that I thought I was divorced when Scott and I started dating or that I had signed three or four sets of divorce papers (it’s all a bit fuzzy nowadays) or that I had actually been divorced for three whole hours before my idiot lawyers got in the way. I had originally planned to stay the course and be willing to go the distance on the divorce case. But, I was growing tired of the whole situation, as was everyone else, and we started to feel a time crunch. We had a lot of things that were occurring in rapid succession. Christmas coming, family going out of town for the holidays, Scott was trying to take 60 days leave for our marriage and honeymoon, a trip to California hinged on whether we were married or not, and then there were the taxes. We wanted to get married by the end of the year to help Scott out at tax time. He will take a big hit this year with the inheritance he liquidated to be able to pay for the addition to the house and buy many other things that we both needed and wanted. If we were married, he could claim me and the kids on his taxes and it would help him out a lot. The least I could do for all he has done for me. The window of time was closing in on us. We figured out a prime date (December 14) and held our breath to see if things would be accomplished by then. Nothing seemed to be moving. We would think the papers were going to be signed, then they weren’t. On and on it went, while time was passing us by.

December 7, my lawyer took them to court again, with the hopes it would be final by the end of the day. I still don’t know what happened there, but it didn’t get done. With a week to go, we needed some answers. Scott had gone ahead and put in for leave, so we were afraid that if we kept waiting, the 60 days would be gone before we knew it and there would have been no wedding or honeymoon! So, I called my lawyer and said to make them an offer they couldn’t refuse. I offered to forgive more than $10,000 in back child support in exchange for an immediate signing (and the agreement for him to come to Kansas City to pick up the children). That little parenthetical statement was more than just an afterthought. For one, if he stops showing up or even just can’t make it one weekend, my lawyer advised me to show up anyways, to keep him from claiming I hadn’t shown up. I’d rather drive across town for the next 14 years than all the way to Emporia. And two, I felt it would take the focus off the quick signing--if he knew the why, he would drag his feet just to mess with me. But between two lawyers involved, it was less than immediate. I ended up having to present my proposal to him myself. He agreed and I sent him to see his lawyer. New papers had to be drawn up. But I couldn’t get a hold of my lawyer. He left word for me to call in the morning, Thursday December 10. When I called, he had gone out of state to his son’s wedding and his assistant knew nothing about it! She found my file and a revised copy of the papers, so she emailed it to me. I printed, signed, scanned, emailed it back to her. She hand-carried it over to the other attorney, with a letter (per my urging) stating that the condition to this deal was that it had to be signed by a judge by close of business Friday, meaning he would be responsible for filing it. This worried me to no end as he is a bumbling idiot. She promised to call me when she heard anything. So I got no calls. Obviously we couldn’t just show up Monday and get married with no prior arrangements, so we had gone ahead and booked a chapel and a photographer and prayed that we hadn’t just wasted that money. I checked with the assistant Friday about noon, after spending a nervous morning, fretting about it. She called the other attorney to check and it was a good thing she did because apparently he needed a swift kick to remind him that this was a limited time offer. The day wore on and we were sweating bullets. We finally heard that he had called their office around 4pm from the courthouse, requesting vital statistics from their file. We assumed that he wouldn’t be at the courthouse filling out these kinds of forms unless he was actually filing the papers, but I guess I am a pessimist because I could picture him dropping dead of a heart attack, before he got the papers filed or losing them between the first and fourth floors! I hated to get married on an assumption, but this was cutting it way too close for my comfort! We went to the Jackson county courthouse Monday morning and got our marriage license. On the way back, I got an email, saying that my lawyer’s assistant had found a voicemail from the other attorney dated Friday after she’d gone home, confirming that he had filed the papers. Later in the day, she let me know that she had actually received them and she overnight mailed them to me and they were waiting on the doorstep when we came home the next morning!

On to more pleasant subjects! We had talked about getting married at the courthouse, but we found a historic chapel that we thought would make a beautiful backdrop for wedding photos. We invited a select few, but with the last-minute nature of our wedding, the only ones able to attend were our mothers (and a couple of crashers, ha, ha--his mom’s three friends). We would have loved to have shared our day with our friends and more family, but we were also fine with the way things turned out. Scott sent me to get a mani/pedi that morning. He had asked me if I would have my nails painted blue, since that was our wedding color. I had planned on getting a French manicure (and he later concurred), but thought, “sure, why not?” After all, nothing about this was traditional!

Our moms had come up the night before so my mom could make last minute fittings on my dress, which she made. She made my first wedding gown too. So, while I was getting my nails done, they sat at our house and played Wii bowling! I wanted some nail art also and since we were having light snow flurries (nice touch, like God throwing rice!), I opted for a snowflake to be painted on my thumbs and big toes. Everyone seemed to be fascinated and intrigued by this and I think it garnered as much attention as my dress! The kids were picked up from school early and we all got ready and headed for the chapel. We had pictures before the wedding started. It was strange for me. I think I had a hard time realizing it was for real because the setting was so intimate with so few people there. It seemed no different than before the wedding started when we were all milling around and snapping pictures. Very informal.

We had designed our own service. We walked in on one of our favorite pieces of music, Canon in D. We picked Scripture readings, etc. We kind of snickered because we hadn’t been specific about the exact passage we wanted from Ephesians 5, but thought saying it was the part about husbands and wives would be self-explanatory. Imagine our surprise when the preacher started reading an earlier passage that had little to do with marriage.

The preacher had told me to suspend being a mom for the service and not worry about what the children were doing or try to direct them, as they were a part of the wedding party (Arrena was my bridesmaid, Kimmy the flower girl, and Billy the ring bearer). I took his advice and didn’t worry about them. Billy took that as an opportunity. Apparently we were boring him as he was yawning in one of the pictures and in another, I discovered that he had put his ring bearer’s pillow to good use, laying on it on the steps behind me. When we watched our video, we could see him vigorously shaking his head back and forth, so I assumed my mother was vigorously telling him to “come here!” and he was refusing! Oh well. We didn’t care. It was a family wedding and informal and I don’t think it took anything away from it. Even made for good memories!

Scott had wanted to do a sand ceremony instead of a unity candle. I had never heard of or seen one, but it was really interesting. We bought different colored sand (blue and white) and poured them out of separate glasses into a combined vase (which incidentally had the initial “D” on it). It symbolizes becoming one because you can never again separate all the grains of sand. We engineered the wording on the sand ceremony as well as for our vows. We also had a ceremony to present each of the children with a family medallion necklace to show them how important to us they are and that they were a part of our special day and our family.

When it was over, we took more pictures. It was like the papparrazzi around there. Six adults besides the wedding party and each had a camera in hand! Then we headed home to change and went to Olive Garden for an informal wedding dinner. We said goodbye to everyone in the parking lot and went to a beautiful bed and breakfast in town and vowed to have a real honeymoon later on. And here we are! En route to the Caribbean! Stay tuned for cruise blogging!

Travel Whining...

Everyone expects me to be the strong one. I have held it together by a thin thread through so much crap (see next 3 posts below). I have delivered newspapers 365 days a year for 6 years in weather you can't imagine in sickness and in health, in labor and in post-op. I have lived through so many things that I think people often think I am invincible and nothing daunts me. How, then, when you have that kind of expectation to live up to, do you admit that you are scared and nervous and need something from someone?

My fiance and I got married on Monday (more on that later). Today is Friday. He had long ago planned to take a trip to California with his mom to visit her sister. He hadn't planned on having a wife and step-kids. He didn't want to leave us, so he bought us tickets to go along, but wasn't able to get us on the same flight. He felt so guilty, sending me off with the 3 kids alone while they traveled in first class. How could I confess to him that I was scared myself? So, I blew it off. "Oh, no big deal! I can handle my kids! No different than any other situation."

We got on our plane just fine, made our connection and thought everything was fine. When we landed in Sacramento, we found that his plane had been late, he had missed his connection, and had been re-routed to Washington DC and wouldn't arrive until 8 hours later. We have a 3 1/2 hour drive to his aunt and uncle's house and we were going to take a rental car together. However, they wouldn't let me pick up his rental car because I haven't changed any of my ID yet to reflect my new married name. So, we thought I could rent a car for the day and take the kids out of the airport at least and find something to entertain them until they arrived. Despite the fact that there is plenty of money in the bank account, they refused my card based on a credit report! So, I am sitting here in the airport, 5 hours after we landed, trying to entertain the kids. I have been coming down with a cold, so I don't feel good in the first place, I haven't been sleeping good for a while, and now I have been getting a migraine all day. I feel awful and I am short-tempered. The kids are tired, bored, and short-tempered.

Scott's uncle will be here soon to pick us up, though. We will have to make the 3 1/2 hour drive to their house, but Scott and his mom won't be in until close to midnight. I am sure they will be exhausted as we got up at 4am. I'm thinking we all will need a vacation from our vacation...but the vacation hasn't even started yet!!! Reporting live from the Sacramento airport...

Thanksgiving 2009

My thankfulness post may be a long one because I have so much to be thankful for.

First and foremost I am thankful that God sent His Son to die for me and took the punishment for my sin upon himself so that I may have an eternal home in Heaven. Words can’t describe how wonderful that gift is. All pales in comparison.

I am thankful for my children. Only one of them was a planned pregnancy, but God sent the other two to me at special times in my life when I needed them. They are each unique and special and enrich my life. Though they often frustrate me and make me angry, I cannot imagine a life without them in it. I feel as though they are my entire purpose on this earth. I am grateful for their good health as my heart breaks to see parents lose children in death. I appreciate Arrena’s responsibility and willingness to help even when not asked. I appreciate Kimmy’s sense of humor and her intelligence. I appreciate Billy’s bond with me and his observation skills. I am thankful for the privilege of having them lent to my care for a short time and pray that I will not waste the opportunity and that they will grow up to be all God has planned for them.

I am thankful for my family. I love my mom and am so very grateful for her care for me. She has really gone above and beyond this year, allowing me and the kids to live with her for a time, loaning me her only vehicle, lending me money, and generally being there for me. She is (again) making me a wedding dress. She and I may not always see eye to eye but she is always there for me. I remember one night this year in particular when I called her, bawling my eyes out and she talked to me and calmed me down and gave me direction to get through the problem. I am thankful that my mother raised me the way that she did, that she taught me God’s Word, kept me in church, taught me to read, was a stay-at-home mom in my early years, etc. I am thankful for all the rest of my family. I have many loving members of my family that I am proud to say I am related to. I am thankful that God answered prayers this year for my grandpa’s health. I feared he wouldn’t see another Christmas, but he is still with us.

I am thankful for God’s financial provisions. This last year has been a very hard one, in many ways, but especially financially. I hadn’t planned on being a single parent. I had actually wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and my husband had agreed. So I didn’t go to school and learn a high-paying skill. I eventually went to work part-time to try to pay down some debt, which never seemed to go away. When I found myself parenting alone, the part-time pay was fine as long as we lived simply and had child support money coming in. But when the kids’ dad lost his job, he stopped paying. I tried to go full-time, but any extra I made went to paying for childcare for me to go to work, so it made no sense and helped us not at all. I also had to pay for health insurance. And then work started cutting my hours even further. Sometimes I was only bringing in about $650 a month. My rent alone was $575. How do you support 3 kids on that? My ex and I had also been supporting his missionary foster parents with $50 a month and I knew I had to keep that going because they depended on their support to live. God also burdened me to pledge $10 a month to our faith promise missions at church, in addition to my 10% tithe. $10 doesn’t sound like a lot, but it was to us. I had no idea how I could afford all of this. But I read Luke 6:38-- “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” and Malachi 3:10-- “ ‘Bring all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house, and try me now in this,’ says the LORD of hosts, ‘If I will not open for you the windows of heaven and pour out for you such blessing that there will not be room enough to receive it.’ ” And God’s Word is true.

Early on in this divorce/separation, I was staying at my mom’s and I had nothing to my name. I had no car, no money, and it was not payday week for me. I ran out of foundation make-up and conditioner. No big deal in the grand scheme of things and not something I would complain about. Who cares about makeup when your life is in a shambles and I’d just have to live with brushing tangles out of my hair the hard way. But then there was a knock on the door. I was tempted to not answer it, as it wasn’t my house, but I did and found a group of women in the yard and on the porch. They handed me a heavy gift bag and invited me to a “Friend Day” at their church (which, in a twist of fate, was the old building of my old church, where I “grew up”) where they give away clothing and canned food and free medical screenings. I thanked them and went inside. When I opened the bag, I found it was full of cosmetics, including foundation (and in my skin shade!), and some hair care products--no shampoo, but a bottle of conditioner! Tears sprang to my eyes and I knew that if God would take care of little details like conditioner and makeup, He would handle my needs as well. My little insignificant details were important to God. Wow! And when times were tight, God always provided. It doesn’t make sense, the numbers don’t add up, but at the end of the month, I always had enough. I paid my bills and gave to the church and the missionaries. It was always there. Sometimes it was interesting how God provided. I had to swallow my pride many times. I had to go on food stamps and go to a clothes closet and a few food pantries, which I loathed doing and was so ashamed of, but I came to see it as God’s provision. Twice, the kids’ dad came up with some money when I needed it. And when Scott came along, he sent me a check for $500 to help me out. I resisted because I didn’t want to take charity or owe him anything. But I prayed and asked God to provide another way, but if not, I would know that Scott’s money was meant to be God’s provision. I had seen too much for too many months to doubt that God would provide. It became a matter of “how” not “if.” God provided no other money that month, so I swallowed my pride yet again and cashed Scott’s check.

And now, I am pleased to find that God has placed me in a sound financial situation. Scott makes good money, enough to where we feel like I will probably not have to work and will be able to be a stay-at-home mom like I always wanted. I am thankful that he had some inheritance money built up so that he has been able to accommodate us and our needs. He has been paying for my lawyer and bought many things to make us more comfortable in this house and make it home for me and the kids. And he was able to pay for a new addition on his home to give us more room. Construction started a couple of weeks ago. While money doesn’t buy love, the practical side of me had that aspect on my list for a potential husband: financially responsible and secure. I am ever thankful for how God has provided for us this year and I trust that He will in the coming years.

I am thankful for encouragement from God, which has come in many forms. Song lyrics are an obvious choice and I won’t go into all of the ones that have spoken to me as you can read them here in this blog. Scripture verses that I find at timely junctures in my life are another encouragement. Today I was reading Psalm 37 and found it very soothing for what is occurring in my life at this moment. I may blog that one, it’s so good. It was mentioned in my Sunday school class last week, which causes me to believe it was not accidental, but a seed planted for me to harvest in my mind later as the week’s troubles unfolded. Once when I went to one of the food pantries, I got home and was unpacking the food items. At the bottom of the large sack was a random bottle of conditioner! I felt like it was God's little love note to me, His reminder of how He provides for me! sort of a, "Don't forget, Robin, I will even provide you with conditioner!" There have even been times when I feel like God is revealing a truth to my heart, such as Jesus dying for me PERSONALLY, not just as part of the collective world, or about my feeling condemned and like a failure because of my sin, or about there being something greater in life than my personal struggles, or feeling that God is with me in the midst of fiery trials and that He is in control of it all and has my best interest in mind. Knowing that He is ultimately in charge, not any judges in a courtroom or whoever, and that He will ultimately work things out for MY good! There have been some instances where I felt encouraged by being able to get back in touch with friends I hadn’t talked to in a long time. One day, a woman walked through the YMCA locker room singing a hymn that fit the need in my life at that particular moment. I saw a note on a piece of mail at work that had the words to a hymn and the phrase "If you can't see past earth's shadow, look to Jesus and his light!" There are times when a specific word or phrase or verse comes into my heart at the precise right time. There have been times when I have felt like God has literally caused me to stop what I am doing and come to Him in prayer, pouring my heart out. Once I truly felt pushed to the ground and held there. I needed to stop and rest and receive peace and comfort and I did. In the courtroom, I felt like Jesus was there, holding my hand, and in my mind I imagined reaching my arms up to my Father to hold me like a child and was calmed by the thought. The list could go on extensively.

I am also thankful for my future mother-in-law, whom I not only like, but truly love to death. She is a sweet, wonderful lady. It’s very nice to have a mother-in-law that you like because I have had the other kind and it ain’t pretty! I have gotten along well with Sue since we met over 16 years ago and even continued to write her after Scott and I broke up back then. Whenever she wrote back, she was sensitive to my feelings and never mentioned Scott to me, which I was always amazed at. She prays for us and encourages me often. She has welcomed me and the kids into the family with open arms and as though we were not tainted by divorce and remarriage and step-parenting, etc. She treats us as her own. I love her as a mother-in-law, but also as a friend. And she babysits too! ;)

Finally (I think), I am thankful for Scott. I am thankful that he never stopped loving me in 16 years. That’s so amazing to me that I can’t comprehend it. I am thankful for how he treats me. It is radically different than what I have experienced and it feels nice to be put on a pedestal. He accepts me with all my faults and some of what I thought would be deal-breakers, he actually finds endearing! What’s wrong with him? Ha, ha. I am thankful that even though I tried to scare him off, he wouldn’t run. I am continually amazed at how eager he was to take on all my baggage, because, let’s face it, there is a LOT of it. I am thankful that he has not only accepted my kids but actually loves them and treats them very well. I am thankful that he is willing to help me parent and does such a great job with Billy--better than I do even. I am thankful that he is generous and was willing to give up his money to buy trampolines and swingsets and tickets to Hannah Montana concerts and pay for preschool and a lawyer and to add on to his house, among many, many other things. I am thankful that he wants to go Christmas shopping for the kids with me, even if that caused a minor misunderstanding. ;) I am thankful that he is so even-tempered and doesn’t get mad often and when he does, his reaction is to become quiet. I am thankful that he is willing to help me with chores around the house. I am thankful that he agrees with me not working. I am thankful that he brings me flowers. I am thankful that he listens to me and remembers what I say. I am thankful that he searched for and found a replacement for something that had been very important to me. I am thankful that he went to Jared's (ha, ha)! I am thankful that we have a lot in common. I am thankful that he is an encouragement to me. I am thankful that he gave up his brand new SUV for me to drive while he drives his old pickup truck to work. It’s a minor thing, but I am glad that he likes to decorate for Christmas. There are so many things that I appreciate about him that I would be here the rest of the day if I were to list them out. I’m not delusional, it’s not all a bed of roses, and there are things about him that drive me nuts, but I appreciate him more than I can say. More than anything I appreciate how he was there to catch us when we fell. God worked it out so that he was there at the right time to be able to take us in and care for us when we had nowhere else to go. I can never thank him enough for willingly walking into our nightmare and accepting all that came with it. I love you, honey.

I’m sure if I sat here the rest of the day, I could think of many more things to be thankful for. But I will leave it at that.

And while I am not thankful FOR the situation that I am in now, I am thankful while I am IN this situation (I Thessalonians 5:18-- “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”). Romans 8 says that God will work it all out for my good and to conform me to the image of Jesus Christ. The ultimate goal is to be more like Christ. Praise Him from whom all blessings flow!

My Story, 2009 Chapter (part 1)

In honor of thanksgiving, I wanted to blog about all that the Lord has blessed me with this year, but felt I should write some background first. Most of what I write will be no surprise to those that follow my blog, but in case a stranger should wander in (and for posterity’s sake), I won’t make them guess what I am referring to.

The word for this year was divorce. This is the first time that I am publicly acknowledging my personal issues, other than a relationship status change on Facebook. As I indicated in quoting Beyoncé below, I am not here to slam my ex on the internet, but I want to share what has happened as a way to help someone else who may be going through the same thing. I would hate to have gone through all this for nothing. I am sure that my ex has a different story, colored by his personality and experience and I am sure that mine is colored too, but I am honest and we’ll leave it at that.

I have been married for 14 years. I got married when I was 18 years old. Not a smart thing to do, but hindsight is 20/20. I’ll blog my soapbox on that at a later date. My husband made me believe that I would have the life I desired, a life in full-time Christian ministry. My wake-up call was when I arrived at our new home, a military housing apartment in Germany, 3 months after the wedding and found pictures of him at the German bars with beers in his hand. My heart sunk. I don’t drink and I didn’t want to be married to someone who did. And I knew that as a teen, my husband had had an alcohol problem and I feared that.

We had our differences in the beginning because it was obvious that we were complete opposites. But I thought the alcohol was not a problem because he was always with me and was never drinking. We moved to Tennessee to go to Bible college, but he never attended. With me working full-time and going to school full-time, we didn’t have much time together and he was often with friends or his aunt, uncle, and cousins. The one real problem was when we would go back to Wichita, Kansas to visit our families. He would morph into this monster. He would act like his old self, the guy that was into selling drugs, stealing car stereos, hanging with the wrong crowd, rude, and drinking. He treated me like garbage every time we were in town, but as soon as he would get back home, he would turn back into the good husband. It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I knew we could never survive living in our hometown again, if his behavior was any indication.

After I got pregnant with our first child, he announced that he was quitting his job and moving back to Wichita and I could come if I wanted to. I was floored that he was actually going to leave me behind, which I was going to do because there was no way I was going to live with Mr. Hyde full-time. We eventually compromised and decided to move to Tulsa, OK—closer to home, but not actually in Wichita. However, when we got there, we found out that the house that we had rented was condemned and the landlord was in jail for child molestation. We had no choice but to continue on to Wichita and stay with family. I felt like my spirit died then. Maybe I doomed things with my negativity but I knew it was the beginning of the end.

Immediately after, I went out to Arizona to visit my best friend (she was so wonderful in paying for my trip and taking me shopping!) and while I was there, I called my husband to check in and he thought I was someone else…his ex-girlfriend, in fact. Apparently she had just stopped by and intended to call him later.

Everything went downhill from there. He sometimes stayed out all night, drinking with the guys. I would be up crying, even out searching for him. He got arrested a couple of times for bar fights. Things seemed to calm down a bit after our first daughter was born. Not right away, but eventually he seemed to settle down and prefer to be at home with us.

Then 9/11 happened. His National Guard unit was activated and he was sent back to Germany to guard the post there. I was pregnant with our second child at the time and had a really bad feeling about this deployment. Call it women’s intuition or whatever, but it turned out to be true. He informed me in a letter, a couple of weeks after our daughter’s birth, that he had met a German girl and was having an affair and was leaving me. I was devastated. I think physical abuse or even killing me would have been kinder. I was severely depressed and contemplated suicide. For some reason though, even though I had sworn to myself I would never let a man do this to me, I decided to fight for my marriage.

He agreed to come back and work things out, but left again after only 3 days and flew the girlfriend to town. He came back to me again, begging forgiveness. I allowed him to come home, but it was never easy. I believed he had a mental illness. Manic-depressive disorder and schizophrenia runs heavily in his family and I wondered if that was the problem. I had him in to see doctors and psychiatrists. They put him on different anti-depressants and anti-psychotics and as long as he took them, he seemed to do better, but as soon as he would stop, he’d “go off the deep end.” Over the next 6 years, he left me 9 more times. Sometimes there was no indication that anything was wrong, not even an argument. He would just come home and pack his stuff and leave without a word. He’d always come back, beg for forgiveness, promise to never do it again, and I’d forgive and let him come home. I think I died every time, though.

Those 6 years were full of things you might see on a bad episode of the Jerry Springer show. I suspect he may have been involved with prostitution for a time, I contracted HPV (an STD) and had to have pre-cancer cells removed, there was another affair that resulted in a child that may or may not have been his—she refused DNA testing, he punched me in the face, he regularly phoned and visited other women, he stayed out, he drank, etc. I also had my third child in the middle of all of this. I had a ton of reasons why I stayed—some make sense, some do not. But that list is long.

Last September (2008), he threw me out of the house and said he was keeping the children. Of course since he was never around, he didn’t know how to take care of the children. The children seem to agitate him, he can only take them in small doses and for some reason, never has them alone. If he has them, he takes them to someone’s house. Anyway, it didn’t take 12 hours before they were back with me 95% of the time. We stayed at my mom’s for a month, but he was begging me to come home and I was struggling with some severe depression and was quite suicidal. So I went back. I was there for 2 weeks and he left. Then he came back again, then left again. I had gotten on some great anti-depressants that allowed me to think clearly for the first time in a long time. I had finally had enough. For the benefit of 14 years and 3 kids, I gave him one final chance. I told him in December that he had until March to get himself together or it was over. In January he admitted that he was living with a new girlfriend. I moved to my own house and filed for divorce.

I had been in turmoil and fought it for so many years, but overnight, God gave me complete peace about letting my marriage go. He was still back and forth, begging me to let him come home or being belligerent and hateful, but I felt calm. I had feared being alone, but I found that I loved it. He continued to bombard me with texts and phone calls, and often showed up at my house in the middle of the night. I was starting to get scared. He was threatening suicide and I feared a man on the edge would try to take someone with him. I feared becoming a statistic or one of those stories you hear on court TV where the man snaps and kills his wife and kids and himself. One night when he showed up, I felt a definite jolt of fear and thought, “this man could really kill me.” I found out later that he had come to my house to hide because he had just tried to strangle his girlfriend and the cops were looking for him.

That is some of the background and it is long enough. I think I will split this into two posts. The rest of the story to follow….

My Story, 2009 Chapter (part 2)

When I was 16, the first boy I ever really dated was Scott Davidson. The relationship was far from perfect, but we got serious fast and started talking about getting married. But he broke my heart when he broke up with me to date someone else (he said later that he was scared at how serious it had gotten and how young we were). He tried to date me again after that, but I was too hurt and too angry. He was pretty relentless for a while and drove me batty! The last time I saw him was 9 years ago when my oldest was a newborn. I had nothing but negative feelings for him. I held onto that grudge and spit venom every time I told people the story of him, which was often. I would occasionally try to look him up on classmate-type websites or the yellow pages to try to keep tabs on where he was. Maybe I protested too much…

Earlier this year, after my husband and I had split for good, I got a friend request from Scott on Facebook. I debated and overanalyzed and overthought that one to death. Surely he had seen my “complicated” relationship status and would hound me to try to get me back. He would be an internet stalker and that’s just what I needed—I already had a husband stalker. But I was curious and I wasn’t sure why. And we had so many friends in common, he would have some indirect access to me anyways. One friend said to go ahead and approve it and if he bothered me, delete him. So I winced as I hit the “approve” button, as though the stalking onslaught would be immediate in coming. But there was nothing. No “hi, how ya doin” post on my wall, no personal messages, no photo comments, nothing. I was almost disappointed. Maybe my husband’s rejection wouldn’t get to me quite so bad if there was a man out there who had been pining for me for 16 years! But, alas, no. He virtually ignored me. I went on with my life.

After a few months, Scott eventually made some innocuous comments on a few of my posts. But nothing more. In July, I was surprised when he suddenly struck up a chat with me and even more surprised when I enjoyed talking with him. He initially offered to pay for me and the kids to go to Worlds of Fun (he lives in Kansas City) because he saw from my posts that we seemed to be having a hard time. At that point, I was so broke, I didn’t know how I would pay bills. I was getting no child support and my part time job was cutting back even more hours. I was on food stamps (which I hated) and had also had to go to some food pantries and clothes closets (which hurt my pride even more). But apparently I still had enough pride to not want to take someone else’s charity (plus with our history, I didn’t want to owe him something), so I refused. He tried to talk me into it about 10 different ways, but finally laid off and just chatted. I was surprised when he listened and asked questions and pretty much let me talk and seemed to enjoy it. I like to talk and it’s rare to find someone to actually enjoy listening to me. After a lengthy chat, he said he’d like to talk again sometime. That night I had a dream that I married Scott and he loved me so much and treated me so well. When I woke up I thought that it would probably be true, but I was also sad. Sad that someone showing a little bit of kindness to me could make me feel so wistful.

Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about Scott after that. I kept trying to put him out of my mind and remind myself of how much I hated him all these years, but it didn’t help. I would sit on Facebook and wait to see if he would get online and want to chat and get disappointed if a) I didn’t see him online or b) he was online but didn’t strike up a chat. He sent me a few messages, but by Saturday, I was a wreck. I resembled some angst-ridden teenager! I sat at work, crying, because I wanted to talk to him so much. It was ridiculous! I was so disgusted with myself for how I was behaving. I went home and immediately logged onto Facebook and checked every 5 minutes to see if he was online. I sent him a message when I saw him, but he said he was tired and was going to bed early and I was deflated. I had deluded myself into thinking he would be just as excited to talk to me, but apparently sleep was more attractive to him. I cried some more, but tried to pull myself together and just played some games to calm myself. I was surprised when I got a chat window from him. It was so funny how I immediately relaxed and calmed, like a big sigh of relief. That was the first night of many nights where we stayed up till the middle of the night either chatting or on the phone.

He admitted that he had never stopped thinking about me and felt he had really missed his chance. He admitted he still had feelings for me, but that he was content having his best friend back if that’s all there was. He said he would be open to dating later on, if I was. I was surprised to find that I was. The lengthy hours of talking daily made our relationship go serious very quickly. We agreed that we wouldn’t date until my divorce was final, but he already knew that he wanted to marry me. And he would have married me immediately. I was a little more cautious and had my own “plan”. We jokingly named them “stages.” Stage 1 was us dating, stage 2 was introducing him to the children, stage 3 was engaged, and stage 4 was marriage. I wanted stage 1 to last a long time.

Speaking of plan, I had previously made a list of all the qualities that I wanted in a future husband. After I was done, I proclaimed that the guy couldn’t possibly exist (or if he did he was 85 or 12 or lived in China) and told God it was impossible. Oops! Wrong choice of words to use with God. That’s like issuing a challenge. Luke 1:37—“For with God nothing will be impossible.” I was surprised to find that Scott met every one of my criteria.

I signed the final divorce papers and was told they would be before a judge to be signed right away. So Scott and I planned our first date. I was anxious because I had not been out with other adults in a long time. My 2 closest friends in town worked the night shift, but I switched to days to make child care easier, so our schedules didn’t mesh well. I was craving adult conversation and some time away from the kiddoes. Their dad was going to take them camping Saturday night and his mom offered to take them Friday night so I could have a whole weekend to myself. I didn’t tell anyone what I was planning, which was to meet Scott in Emporia (sort of halfway) and then go up to Kansas City with him to spend the following day. I was either going to sleep on his couch or he was going to rent me a hotel room, but I didn’t think people would understand, and it would look scandalous, so I didn’t tell but one friend. I packed a bag and hid it in the back of my SUV, then I packed the kids up for the weekend. I picked them up at school and dropped them off at their grandma’s, then I headed out of town. I am usually very conscientious of people being able to get a hold of me when the kids are not with me, in case of emergency, but I didn’t think about my Cricket phone not working out of town. I had been on the phone with Scott as we drove towards each other. I missed a call on the other line from my mom and then I got a text from her, saying to call her. That was odd because she would normally just tell me what it was she wanted, so I was a little concerned. But just about then, I lost signal, I think a little ways past El Dorado. I had only been on the road about 30-45 minutes. I thought I would have signal once I hit Emporia and could call her back, but I didn’t.

Scott and I met at Applebee’s and had dinner. I tried to enjoy myself but I had a nagging sense that something was wrong. My grandpa had been sick in the hospital so I wondered if something might be wrong with him. Scott gave me a beautiful sapphire ring and then we headed to Kansas City, leaving my SUV in the WalMart parking lot in Emporia.

On the outskirts of Kansas City, I finally got signal and called my mom. She said that my ex-husband had been calling me (I now had 8 voicemails) and that he called her, saying that I took off and left the kids, had packed a bag and left town with a boyfriend (how did he know this?) and that he was going to take the kids and I would never see them again. My phone died then. I also found out later that he had been calling one of my friends, questioning her as to my whereabouts. We turned around and went back to Wichita, picking up my car first in Emporia. Scott offered to go to my house with me, but I said I would be fine, just needed to get the phone charged so I could call my ex and get to the bottom of this and talk him out of his tree. Scott went to his mom’s in case I needed him and instructed me to call him as soon as I got in the house.

When I got home, there were lights on in the house and I could see the TV was on. I knew I had turned it all off when I left. I had told the kids’ grandma where my key was hidden in case she needed to take the kids by the house for anything. I assumed maybe she was there now. I knocked on the door and was surprised when my ex peeked through the blinds. The divorce papers included a temporary restraining order that says he is not supposed to come around my house without my permission. His middle-of-the-night visits had prompted me to remind him of this and tell him to never do it again or I would call the police. Now, here he was IN my house.

He let me in and I saw that the kids were asleep on the couches, then he started grilling me about where I had been and who I had been with and why hadn’t I answered my phone. I told him the phone had died and that the rest was none of his business. He started puffing up and getting in my face and said, “I’ve never hit you before (which is a lie), don’t make me start now.” I told him to get out, but as I had a dead cell phone, how could I call the police? He refused, and kept yelling, calling me a whore, and woke the children. I again asked him to leave and to calm down in front of the children, but he refused, so I went for the door because I had a sheriff’s deputy that lived down the street. But he grabbed me and started shoving me against the kitchen counters and the walls. The kids came up and tried to get him to stop, but he kept shooing them back to the living room. I thought about the knives that were in the cabinet right near me and the pepper spray that was so far away in my bedroom and about striking out, but I had the distinct feeling that it would be worse if I fought back. He was shaking all over and I felt like he had some thin layer of control, but if I did anything it would snap and I would be no match for him, whatever my weapon. I tried to turn on my phone in a desperate attempt and was surprised when it actually powered on! But he kept trying to either knock it out of my hands or grab it to see who I had been talking to. I managed to keep a hold of it, but couldn’t get anything dialed. I had managed to get near the back door, but he blocked it so I couldn’t get through. He demanded that I tell him who I had been with. When I said no, he grabbed me by the throat and held me against the wall. I remember thinking, “oh my God, he is really going to kill me.” He said, “tell me his name and it will stop. If you don’t tell me, I won’t stop.” I managed to choke out the word “no” and then I felt everything going black and fuzzy. Next thing I knew, I hit the floor and I was aware that the kids were behind him, so I assume that they had stopped him. It took me a moment to get up because I couldn’t move at first. He had moved enough away that I grabbed the closest 2 children and flung open the door and shoved them out. I told them to run to the neighbor’s and call the police. But they just stood there, rooted to the ground. He had turned around and went back to get his boots, so I grabbed the last of the kids and we ran out the door, me pushing all 3 in front of me. I started dialing 911, amazed that my phone was on at all. I don’t know if he knocked me down or if I tripped, but I know I ended up in the grass. He knocked me over the head with his boots and then shoved them on and started running down the street. My across-the-street neighbor had come out and came over to us. I had enough battery to tell the 911 operator what happened, where I was, and which direction he was heading before it died.

The police came quickly and it took longer to explain everything than it took for it to actually happen. They took pictures of my neck and told me that they had arrested him and that he would be out in 4-8 hours depending on if he was able to post bail or not. I finally was able to call Scott who was beside himself by that time since it was more than 2 hours after we had parted. Then I called my mom and she came and stayed with me, per Scott’s orders. He is a paramedic and he was worried about me being alone if I had lost consciousness. My mom and I were scared to death. We couldn’t sleep and I was a nervous wreck, thinking about my ex coming back to kill me or snatching the kids. Every noise made me jump. I knew I couldn’t stay there. Scott had offered to let us come and stay with him for a few days and I decided to take him up on the offer.

I hated having to traumatize the children further by introducing them to mom’s new boyfriend, but I needed for us to feel safe. My ex knew everywhere else I might go except Scott’s. I felt it was the only safe place. So we went with the idea that it would only be for a few days.

But things started to unravel. I kept trying to call my lawyers to figure out what to do but they would never return my calls. Hooray for legal aid! I knew I couldn’t trust the kids’ grandma to babysit anymore because she had obviously told him where the key was hidden. Also there was a dispute over how this got started. HE said that SHE called him, freaking out, saying that I had dumped off the children, etc. SHE said that HE showed up, demanding his children. But I couldn’t trust her and she was my primary Saturday babysitter while I was at work. So now what should I do? Then I got a call that the girls’ school transfer hadn’t been approved so our whole reason for moving into that neighborhood was gone, they would have to go to a different school. Then I found out that work was doing a schedule overhaul and not one of the new schedules would fit into our school/childcare schedule. And the fear didn’t go away. I made the decision to stay in Kansas City with Scott. We would get married soon because I was not okay with being a live-in girlfriend.

Except then I found out that the judge had never signed my divorce papers and I was still legally married! My lawyers started trying to get me sole custody and supervised visitation and I was going back to Wichita to get a Protection From Abuse order and to pack my things. The “ex” kept calling but I ignored the calls and eventually they stopped. Long story short, I agreed to move the PFA over into the divorce papers, he got a lawyer which stopped all the divorce papers cold and got him diversion on the domestic battery case. I was informed that sole custody is pretty much a joke and I would never get supervised visitation so we agreed to a 4 hour visit with the kids every other Sunday, but for 4 times, he didn’t show up. I was happy, thinking he would lose his parenting rights, but the next thing we knew, he hauled us into court, trying to take the kids away from me, saying I had kept them from him for 3 months. I hired a new, better lawyer and of course, he didn’t get the kids.

I have signed 3 sets of final divorce papers, but it seems like it all may finally be over this Monday! If that is the case, Scott and I will be married December 15. Our relationship has been pretty abnormal and all of the stress hasn’t lent itself to romantic interludes. We trade off sleeping on the bed or the couch, to try to maintain some sense of propriety. The kids really love him and he has proved himself to be good dad material. I will be glad when this is all over and we can relax and start a new life.

The kids had to go for their first weekend with their dad 2 weeks ago. I was nervous and cried a lot, but it all worked out okay. They go with him again tomorrow and I pray it will be easier for me this time.

So that is my 2009 in a nutshell. My nutshell is REALLY long so I will save my thankful post for tomorrow!

Father let the world just fade away
Let me feel your presence in this place
Lord I've never been so weary
How i need to know you're near me
Father let the world just fade away
'Til I'm on my knees
'Til my heart can sing

HE IS
HE WAS
HE ALWAYS WILL BE
HE LIVES
HE LOVES
HE'S ALWAYS WITH ME
EVEN WHEN IT FEELS LIKE THERE IS NO ONE HOLDING ME
BE STILL MY SOUL,
HE IS

It Is WELL With My Soul

That is one of my all-time favorite hymns. It's been my favorite since I was a small child. I have learned the story behind it and even wrote a paper about it in Bible College. How many hundreds of times have I heard this song? And yet, when I heard it a few weeks ago, I learned something new.

"Though Satan should buffet
Though trials should come
Let this blessed assurance control
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate
And has shed his own blood for my soul."

Whatever Satan tries to plague me with, whatever I've done, Jesus looked ahead in time and saw me for who and what I am and he saw my sin and still chose me and died for me anyway. He paid for it ALL. My hanging on to guilt is doing his sacrifice a disservice. I'm placing myself in God's place as judge. I don't have to do anything to receive salvation and forgiveness, just accept and receive it.

"Though his eyes were on the crowd that day,
He looked ahead in time...
He knew me, yet he loved me...
So unworthy of such mercy,
Yet when he was on the cross,
I was on his mind."

Once we receive that forgiveness, we have to let it go. Satan tries to point to our failures and say, "See? You will never measure up!" But we have to remember that God has forgiven and truly forgotten our sin.

"It happened so long ago
And I cried out for mercy back then.
I plead the blood of Jesus
Begged him to forgive my sin.
But I still can't forget it
It just won't go away.
So I wept again, 'Lord wash my sin,'But this is all He'd say,

What sin, what sin?
Well that's as far away as the east is from the west.
What sin, what sin?
It was gone the very minute you confessed
Buried in the sea of forgetfulness.

The heaviest thing you'll carry
Is a load of guilt and shame.
You were never meant to bear them
So let them go in Jesus name.
Our God is slow to anger
Quick to forgive our sin
So let Him put them under the blood
Don't bring them up again.
Cause He'll just say,

What sin, what sin?
Well that's as far away as the east is from the west.
What sin, what sin?
It was gone the very minute you confessed
Buried in the sea of forgetfulness.

Lord, please deliver me from my accusing memory.
Nothing makes me weak this way, then when I hear you say,

What sin, what sin?
Well that's as far away as the east is from the west.
What sin, what sin?
It was gone the very minute you confessed
Buried in the sea of forgetfulness."

I had another "epiphany" while I was at church recently. Something was being said about Jesus' death. I KNOW how wonderful that is, but I found myself thinking, "well, yeah, but of course he would give up his life to save all of mankind." I mean, sheer numbers, volume! But I felt a lurch in my heart as I was nearly brought to my knees. I FELT the words, "If you had been the only one, I would have still died for you." I couldn't stop the tears that suddenly welled up. Talk about a boost of self-esteem... Or as I've heard before, "if that don't light your fire, your wood's wet!" Truly awesome!