I am a Crossfit Woman

A few months ago, I started seeing and hearing about Crossfit. I didn't know what it was, other than some workout program, and by the name, I assumed it was some Christian-based gym program...which made me immediately skeptical.

Oh how wrong I was.

I decided to check into this whole CF thing when I saw photos of friends on one of those social networking sites. It wasn't their buffness or thinness that attracted my attention. It was his baby daughter strapped to his back while he did pull-ups; and the crazy exercises like 20" box jumps (exactly what it sounds like people. Jumping onto a box that is 20" high...over and over); and the gym dogs (actual canines) who hung around the gym; and the pictures of little kids using kettlebells and doing squats and box jumps right along with their parents (how many gyms do you know that let children under 16 in?); and the fact that every Crossfit gym is basically just a skeleton warehouse with free weight equipment in it (no machines other than the rower).

Then the hubs actually did one of the workouts...and he wouldn't shut up about it. Not that I really wanted him to because I love seeing him get fired up about stuff. Then he started going to their website and watching videos and looking at pictures, and because I couldn't resist watching videos of people doing things I'd never heard of (a muscle up), I watched over his shoulder. And then I noticed something.

Maybe you noticed it, too.

Fern, the woman in the video...isn't your typical gym woman. I'd spent my life in gyms (and malls, and restaurants, and schools, and sitting in my own bedroom) trying to figure out how to "look" like the typical gym woman: too thin, make-up, improper technique, hours of cardio, etc. All it got me was 14 years of anorexia sub-type purging.

I started watching more of these videos on the Crossfit website of women doing these amazing things...and each one of them had a different body-type. And then the hubs found this article.

I was hooked. I have been a Crossfit woman for just under 3 weeks, but for the first time in over 2 decades, I'm not worried about my weight. For the first time ever, I walk into the gym and my self-esteem doesn't plummet because of all the "other" women there, but rather grows based on what I am about to accomplish. For the first time ever, I am focusing not on looking like someone, but on doing something. And for the first time ever, I actually FEEL my body getting more than just strong...it's functionable.

Now don't get me wrong...I can't do a muscle up (they recommend not even trying a muscle up until you can do 15 pull-ups and 15 dips). But one day, I will. And I'll post the video of it with some cool captions and killer mood music.

My first goal? One unassisted pull-up.

See you on youtube.

Red Tape

We have spoken with 2 congressmen, 2 senators, a governor, 2 agencies, and 4 attorneys. In addition, friends who know people involved with children's services in Georgia and other states, have asked for help. Friends have asked personal attorneys for advice and help with our situation. The answer is always the same.

What happened is a travesty. Someone should have looked at the bigger picture and seen that these boys were happy, healthy, and thriving; but they didn't. Legally, the boys cannot be placed back in their home.

It would seem the bureaucratic red tape is strong enough to bind reason, logic, and sensibility.

The question that remains is exactly what IS happening as a result of all this.

With our case:

We know nothing about the boys and where they are except that they are together and not in this city. Basically, as a result of policy, they were uprooted again, but this time, in addition to changing schools and homes, they changed cities.

They once had our last name. They now have their birth name.

They were enrolled in baseball. They are no longer part of their team.

They had a family. They are now in foster care...again.

We are scheduled to say goodbye to them tomorrow.

The Office of the Child Advocate (OCA), which exists to make sure that the Department of Family and Children Services (DFCS)*** really does serve the best interest of families, has called to let us know they are investigating.

The head of DFCS for the state called this week to say that her attempts to contact our county office have yielded nothing. It was a “courteous call” to let us know she hadn't forgotten about our case, but she has not been able to actually talk with anyone at the county office (Had I not been so emotionally spent at the time, I would have said something snarky like, “Welcome to the club”).

With us:

Emotionally, every day gets “easier.” The only thing keeping us sane is the strength we are given by the prayers of everyone who has rallied behind us and the truth that God knows, understands, defends, loves, holds, and controls everything.

I have begun the process for medical clearance with the military. Basically, that means I have filled out a ton of paperwork and had doctors and dentists fill out a ton of paperwork, and am waiting to appear before a panel of a doctor, a mental health professional, and some other person to discuss said paperwork and prove that I am medically capable of accompanying my husband on an overseas assignment.

We are trying to sell a house in a dying market. UGH!

We are trying to remember what it is like to be a family of two.

“I was made for this.”

That's what I told my therapist about one month after our boys came home. Now, in the aftermath of the disrupted placement, I'm remembering that meeting, and trying to figure out what happened. And I'm still trying to figure out how to live when the world just doesn't seem to be spinning correctly.

***Most states just call it the Department of Family Services. In light of our current reality, I find it interesting that Georgia distinguishes between family and children, as though they were two separate issues. Speaks volumes, people.

Susan G. Komen Donation Page

Check it out!

How I Deal

I'm a song writer. I wouldn't venture to say I am a good one, but God ministers to me through music and words.

I tell you this not to float my boat, toot my own horn, or even shamelessly promote myself. I tell you this because I haven't been able to write anything since my whole world blew up three weeks ago. In that time, we have talked to 4 attorneys, 2 agencies, a congressman's aide and the governor's office. Because we admit to breaking the policy, we have no case. As such, our family of 2 that became a family of 5, is now a family of 2...again. We don't even really remember how that works, and honestly we feel like the world isn't quite spinning correctly.

The only thing we know for sure is that God is faithful. His love never fails. And we are holding him to His promise that He defends the cause of the orphan and is a father to the fatherless because our sons are back in foster care.

And since I really can't find words to express the grief that comes with losing my sons, I'll just post this video of my latest song. It's not a perfect video, but you'll get over it and the essence of the song is there.

He Is

I raise my hands up and lift up the name of Mighty God
I can't see in front of me but I believe He's worthy of this
I will cry out this praise loud and bow down and lay my crown at His feet
And rest in the given that He is my strength when I am weak

He's the only thing constant, the only thing sure
Nothing compares to his enduring love that remains
when the well has run dry
He lived and He died and bled mercy and grace
for the lonely who ache and the lost and afraid
the helpless, the hurting, the hopeless who call on His name

He is
He was
And He will be forever (mine)

Alpha Omega
Provider Sustainer
My Fortress My Shelter
My Rock and My Healer
My Savior Redeemer
My Grace all sufficient
My God and My King who is Risen

Holy and Righteous
Faithful and Matchless
My Witness My Father
My Judge and My Keeper
Spotless Perfection
My Soul's Resurrection
My God and My King who is Risen

"The Shaw 5" Letter Writing Campaign

The Story:

When our 3 sons were placed in our home for adoption, we encountered many behavioral issues that we have yet to share. Now is the time to share those.

In school, they were threatening teachers, bullying and fighting peers and classmates, wandering off on school grounds, and refusing to follow basic safety measures at the school. They were failing academically.

Our two oldest sons were unresponsive to discipline measures we used, including the monster timeout. Though many of these measures would work for a week or two, old behaviors would resurface. These boys often retaliated to discipline by damaging our house and property and urinating on walls, floors, garbage cans, etc.

Our oldest son was physically aggressive with me. When Tim traveled, he often hit, kicked, and wrestled me, telling me he didn't have to do what I said. We tried everything. By the end, he was sleeping on the floor, with only enough clothes to fill a hamper.

Every time we approached The Department of Family and Children Services and asked what we were to do, they said, "We don't know. Figure out how to parent those boys." On the advice of our therapist and a veteran foster parent with whom DFCS had connected us, we began spanking. The change was instantaneous.

The defiance ceased. The boys began progressing in school. The principal, who has known our oldest since he was in alternative school 2 years ago, has said he is a completely different child. The teachers noted that our boys were improving. And the school knew the discipline measures we were using at home. They were supportive.

On Tuesday, for reasons about which we can only speculate, our oldest boys volunteered the information to the case worker. Our therapist believes it was an attempt on their part to regain control and to hurt us. The result was completely unexpected.

On Friday morning, DFCS removed our boys from our home and placed them back in foster care. By their own admission, they believe we are the best placement for the boys, but because we broke policy, they removed the boys.

The boys told the case worker that they STILL wanted to live here even though they were being spanked. DFCS still removed them.

The school principal told DFCS they were making the biggest mistake and jeopardizing our family. DFCS still removed them.


The Call:

We have no idea the difference it will make, but someone suggested a letter writing campaign. If you support our decision, and believe that DFCS has made a mistake, and you want to do more, write a letter.

All we ask is that you remain calm. Do not do or say anything that might further jeopardize the future of these boys, as we are currently speaking with attorneys about suing for custody. We still do not know if that is the route we will take, but if we do, your letters will greatly help our efforts.

Our boys deserve a forever family that provides an environment of love and safety; one that will allow them to succeed against the odds. We ARE that family.

Send your letters to:


Houston County DFCS
ATTN: Heidi Stollenwerck
92 Cohen Walker Drive
Warner Robins, Georgia 31088-2729

and/or contact Governor Sonny Purdue, an adoptive parent and advocate for adoption.

Good Borders Make Good Families***

For those who don't know, I was once an English teacher. I taught for one reason: the Aha! Moment. That moment when little brain synapses finally connect and the student, whether s/he is 12 or 28, understands.

This week, my boys have been on winter break, and the hubs has been kicking it military style, which basically means I have held down the fort with ALL. THREE. BOYS. AT. HOME. And any mother of boys knows that Downtime = Bad Attitudes and Broken Stuff; so we've been busy in order to keep everyone sane and happy. One of the many projects we are working on this week is repairing the red brick borders that the boys have knocked over...the ones I spent days measuring, placing, and shaping so that the backyard looked more like a backyard and less like a layer of underbrush.

We often tell our boys, “Have fun. Don't be stupid. Be boys. If you break something, fix it.” And that is exactly what we are doing.

While Bubby (formerly known as Boo) raked the front yard and Little Man picked up trash, Middle Man and I fixed the border. I dug the trench, we worked together to place the stones, and he packed the dirt around them. About half-way through, an insightful conversation transpired:

MM: This is hard work, but it's kinda fun to do it together.

Me: Yep.

MM: It's going really fast. We're already half-way done.

Me: Yep. Hard work is always easier if we work together. I wouldn't necessarily call it fun, but it has to be done, so here we are.

MM: It looks really good.

Me: And that's the best part of hard work...being able to see how it looks when you are done.

MM: I like it.

AHA!

And I didn't even need a lesson plan, people. In one hour, this scrawny little 7-year-old learned a valuable lesson in teamwork and hard work. AND HE LIKED IT! I imagine every time he sees that border, he'll stand a little taller and walk a little prouder because HE was a part of it.

What about you and your kids? What's the best Aha! Moment you've shared together?

***In case you didn't catch the reference, here.

Winter Storm 2010

The forecasters predicted snow. So the schools closed. And hubs and I laughed and laughed because this is Georgia, people. And I am not referring to the country.

When we woke up the next day and no snow had fallen, all we heard from the boys was, "When?!" And we kept telling them, the weatherman said 2:00, but it probably won't snow. 2:00 came and went, and still no snow. Then, at 2:30, something really weird happened.

Little bitty flakes of white began falling from the sky. And soon our yard looked like this:


Having experienced Midwestern snow on more than one occasion (the kind they measure in feet) we figured we better carpe diem because our boys had never. seen. snow.

This is me, pelting my son with a snowball, as hard as I could. Having never been in a snowball fight, he didn't realize how bad they hurt, and he was beaning everyone left and right. I finally retaliated, as did hubs, except hubs was even meaner. He aimed for the neck and showed him how it feels when an icy snowball explodes into your shirt collar and melts into your undershirt. Yep, we are all about making the experience real:


And there are few times a mom can "abuse" her son and get away with it. Snow days are just one of those times (I promise he laughed through the whole thing, even when I shoved snow down his shirt):


And two of the boys catching flakes:


And the Welsh Corgi, whose instincts for snow took over, even if just for a day. She LOVED the snow, which is great because there is lots of it in Germany:


And the snow just kept falling. The flakes got bigger, and before you know it, we had this:


and this:


And the boys got to eat this:


That's snow, in a bowl, with Tang sprinkled on top.

We are convinced that God made it snow just for us. If we've learned anything about God, it's that He knows how to celebrate (if that statement isn't true for you, I recommend learning more about God). In spite of all the hardships these past 5 months, God has given this family moments to celebrate a bunch of "firsts." Eventually, when the boys are old enough not to hate us, and they have finished plotting our demise (you know, when they're 30), they will look back on this year and realize just how pivotal it was to building our family. Families are built on firsts. We missed so many of them: the first tooth, the first step, the first word; but we have experienced many firsts like the Winter Storm of 2010. Before the night was over, our boys had experienced homemade hot chocolate, sledding (yes...it snowed that much), that painful first snowball to the face, doughnuts in the parking lot (their screams of joy were so loud, I could hear them all the way across the lot, where I waited safely, ready to call 911 should the vehicle flip), and the joy of spending a snow day with a family, snuggled on the couch under quilts and sucking on sweet-tarts.