A Scary Mom Moment

The start of our Saturday was like most Saturdays in the Hershey household...including Brandon's decision to go for a run with his friend, Joel, in preparation for their upcoming marathon in October.  But our morning quickly turned into a very scary moment that still makes my stomach feel weak when I relive it.

As the guys were preparing to leave for their 12-mile run, Mya wanted to be outside with them.  So she stayed right there with them...stretching...waiting.  She had been told that once Daddy and Joel left for the run that she was to stay in our yard to wave to them.

You might sense where this story is going.  

I was right inside the house.  While inside, I repeatedly checked to make sure Mya was still with the guys outside.  The first two times, she was right there stretching with them.  But the third time, I didn't see her.  And I didn't see the guys.  They had left for their run.  I immediately ran outside to check on her.

No Mya.

I hated to panic.  I hated to fear the worst.  I reminded myself to stay calm.  I began running around our property.  I shouted her name.  (If you've ever been in this position, you know what it's like.  You can sense that pit-in-your-stomach feeling that's just awful.)  She has always come immediately when I've called for her before.  But not this time.  I ran inside, shouting her name.

No Mya.

Back outside I flew.  This time really shouting her name.  Running...now frantically...around our yard.  I worked hard to stay focus.  I was determined to not let doubt or worry or fear creep in.  But it was hard.  My stomach felt funny.  Quickly problem-solving, I attempted to call the guys on their cell phone while running around.  No answer.

This was not like Mya.  She's never, ever done anything like this before.

Still running around, still searching, I called my dear friend, Michelle, asking her if she was available to come over and help me search.  She dropped everything.  And came.  I ran to my neighbor's house.  Explained the situation.  He dropped everything.  He quickly planned that he'd go in one direction, and I'd go in the other.  As we ran, another set of neighbors came rushing to help.  They were able to guide us in the direction that they had seen Mya running last.

And then a third neighbor's light blue Buick came quickly down our road, horn honking to grab my attention.  He hopped out of his car, informing me that he had found Mya.

That she was safe.

It was music to my ears.  I rushed to her.  Strapped into the backseat.  Her face was visibly sad and worried.  Relieved doesn't even begin to describe how I felt in that moment.  My heart was overflowing with gratitude and a deep, deep sense of thankfulness.  We hugged and kept hugging as I undid her seatbelt.  I then asked our next-door neighbor where he found her, and for those of you that know us and know where we live, she had made it to a main road.  In just a few, short minutes. 

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According to our neighbor, her rescuer, there she stood on the corner...lost and worried...when he spotted her from his car and stopped immedately to help.  When we asked her where she had gone and why she had done it, she told us that she wanted to go running with Daddy and Joel.  She was trying desperately to catch up with them, but little did she know, they were much further ahead.  Completely out of her sight.  They had NO IDEA that she had started to run after them AFTER she was out of their sight.  She thought she could find them.  She also described to us (later) that she ran and ran until her legs got tired but then she walked.  And at one point when a car came down the road, she got to the side of the road just like mommy and daddy tell her to do.

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Mya and I clung to one another.  I didn't want to let go of her.  She didn't want to let go of me either.  She knew what she did was wrong.  I sensed that from her.  But I also felt very guilty, too.  I should have stayed outside with her.  (And upon their return home and learning what happened, Brandon and Joel felt very guilty, too. You see, they had turned around to wave to her several times as they left, and she was still always where she was supposed to be...in our yard.  They felt like if they had just turned around one more time or if Brandon would have made sure she got inside first, it wouldn't have happened.)

But it was truly an accident.  An important life lesson for us to take to heart.

And our support didn't stop there, our neighbors comforted and encouraged us.  They reassured us that similar things had happened to them when their children were younger.  They extended grace and compassion to us.  Mya and I walked back to each neighbor that helped and expressed our appreciation again.  Yet a simple "thank you" just didn't seem like a sufficient way to express our appreciation.

And when we arrived home, there was even a message on our answering machine from yet another neighbor.  You see, when Mya arrived at that corner, she was also on the property of one of my dance families, and so when they spotted our neighbor stopping to help Mya, they went over to make sure who he was and that Mya knew him (which she did).  And they even called to make sure Mya made it home safely (which she did).  They took the time to care.  And for that, I am forever thankful, too.

The depth of gratitude that I feel towards those around me is hard to put into words.  

The ways that people stepped up, dropped what they were doing, and simply helped were amazing.  As I relive and rethink each step of the process, God's hand was so clearly present in how neighbor's were able to help, giving small, crucial details to steer us in her direction and how they literally dropped everything to assist me.  In how my friend was able to quickly leave her home and be at mine in just minutes...just as Mya safely returned home...to bring us comfort.  In how my next-door neighbor was the one to spot her at the exact time that he did which kept her safe from the dangerous traffic of the road.  And he knew RIGHT where to take her to return her to her mommy and daddy.  In how my dance family thought to follow-up and make sure we were okay.  In how Mya was able to communicate so clearly with our neighbor to confirm with him who she was and that she was lost.  And I'm also humbled in how that same neighbor that brought her home took the time to check in with us again later that morning and how he was so intentional about talking directly to Mya and letting her know how proud he was of her...for answering his questions, for communicating clearly.

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As I brought Mya home, my heart wanted to pop with love and thankfulness for her.  We talked, heart-to-heart, so I could be sure she knew the risk of her behavior to run to catch up to Daddy.  I sensed her remorse, her awareness of the choice she made.  When I asked her why she did it, she said that she just wanted to run with Daddy.

I cried.  When I called my Mom to let her know about the situation and to remind her that everyone was okay, reality hit me, and the tears came.  Everything caught up with me.  I cried because it was terrifying, because I was so deeply grateful, because I was in denial that it all just happened, because I love Mya so much, because I felt guilty.  But the encouraging words of others have helped to ease my mind.  I've since heard countless stories from other moms and dads who have had similar situations happen to them.  And we've immediately empathized with one another.  And my prayers to the Lord have filled me with peace in knowing that it was truly an accident. It's been a good reminder that life is so precious.  So uncertain.  And yet I can have peace in knowing that the Lord is in control.  Of all things.  Always.

Thanks be to God for watching over Mya (and us) that day.  After learning her reason for chasing after them, Brandon invited her to go for a run with him later that day.  We don't want to squelch her desire to run and spend time with her daddy.  But we know that she needs to know her boundaries.  Her guidelines.  She was ecstatic to go for a run with him, and in a funny way, it seemed to bring even more peace and closure to this teachable moment for both Mya and Mommy and Daddy.

One yellow Care Bear. And a pink one, too.

I'm told by my mom that when I was little, I picked out a pink Care Bear as my reward when I was officially potty-trained. I don't remember going to the store and picking it out. But I do remember the Care Bear.

You know how when you grow up and move out of your parents' house for the first time, they send all kinds of treasures with you. For me, it was my collection of baby pictures, Christmas ornaments, some much-needed furniture, and for me, a collection of stuffed animals that I had acquired (and refused to let go of) over the years. So when I was twenty-something and got married and moved out of my parents' house, several stuffed animals joined the (then) newly-formed Hershey household.

At the time, I could have cared less about those stuffed animals. I even contemplated getting rid of them.  Donating them to Goodwill or something.

But for some reason I didn't.

I stashed them inside a large plastic bin in our laundry room.  For the most part, they were forgotten about...except for the occasional need for one for a lesson plan while working in a preschool.

But a week ago, I was in search of that pink Care Bear.

It had been forgotten about, neglected for YEARS.  But wouldn't you know, when I went to that stash of stuffed animals in our laundry room and began searching for my Care Bear, I found it.  And I'm thankful I did.

You see, several months ago, we very casually started the potty-training process for our daughter.  And just a few weeks ago, we became a completely diaper-free household.  It was such a good feeling.  I was so thrilled for her accomplishment that we traveled to Target, in search of a small reward for her.

We scanned the toy aisles, and I tried to entice her with a variety of dolls, puzzles, and so on.  Nothing seemed to jump out at her.  I was seriously losing hope that we'd find something that would seem rewarding to her as we rounded the turn to the very LAST aisle of girl toys.  As we're midway down the aisle, I noticed two Care Bears.  One yellow.  And one blue.  I casually pointed them out to her as a last option, and without hesitation, she responded, "Can I hold them?"  I agreed.  And handed them to her one at a time.  I could tell she liked them and asked her if this was what she wanted.  She requested the yellow Sunshine Bear.  We paid for it and returned home.

I remembered my Care Bear and decided to search for it.  At the very bottom of the plastic storage bin was my pink bear.  I had no idea that one day I would want this pink bear again.  But I'm so glad I have it.

It may seem corny.  But for me, it fills my heart with gratitude on so many levels.  (One) That my mom saved the bear for me.  And that she knew I might, one day, want it again.  (Two) That something inside of me made me keep that pink bear.  (Three) That Mya and I can share that bond of picking out similar rewards for reaching that milestone.  (Four) That they still even MAKE Care Bears.  (FIVE) That something as simple as a Care Bear...purchased back in the mid-'80s...could again be popular enough to be on the shelves of a store in 2013 and appealing enough that a toddler would pick it today.

Sometimes it's the simple things in life.  Or the most random things.  Like Care Bears.  But those things can create some pretty cool bonds between people.  

Fabulous Fabrics...and so much more!

I'm not much of a seamstress.  I can tackle fixing a button or repairing a basic seam.  But, my only way of sewing is by hand.  I don't own a sewing machine.  And yet I've recently had this desire in my soul to learn [again] how to use a sewing machine.  

(Insert: Flashbacks to 7th grade Home Ec class...and learning to sew flannel boxer shorts.  Yes, FLANNEL BOXER SHORTS.  That could be a whole other blog post...but let's just say, the class I ended up in included mostly males...in the era of super baggy pants and over-sized t-shirts.  Like a true democracy, majority won when our class voted...and boxer shorts were the "final project" of choice in my home ec class.)

I never want my life to be stagnant.  I want to continue to learn and grow...and try NEW THINGS...throughout my life.  I love the thought of getting creative with a sewing machine.  And when I stumbled upon [yet another] cool website like Spoonflower, it makes me wanna start sewing right now.  

Spoonflower has the coolest fabrics, wall papers, decals, and gift wraps.  Bright colors.  Trendy patterns.  Masculine, feminine.  Modern, cute, sophisticated, fun...and even a "Design-Your-Own" option.  Spoonflower inspires me to take chances and have fun getting creative.  

By me typing this blog post, you're all holding me accountable to actually buying a sewing machine and teaching myself how to use it.  In the near future.  Keep dreaming.  Keeping believing.  And keep taking chances, everybody.  Try something new...TODAY!  (And if anyone wants to learn to use a sewing machine, too...or is willing to TEACH me how to use one...we can tackle learning it TOGETHER!!!)  :)

Teeny Tiny Snail Mail Letters

I love stumbling upon a cool website.  Something that's unique and different.  And I especially love when the items they sell are keepsakes.  Gifts from the heart.

Maybe you've heard of Leafcutter Designs before.  But this website was new to me...and I just HAD to share it with you.



So, here's how it works.  (1) You customize your message.  (2) They shrink it down into a miniature-sized letter.  And place it inside a miniature envelope.  (3) They even add a red wax seal with your initial on it.  (4) They package it inside a larger envelope...and even include a tiny magnifying glass for your receiver to be able to read the letter.  I'd love to order one sometime.  What a fun gift!

Click on the picture above to link directly to the website.  They have a variety of other items for sale on their website, as well.

Your Challenge for TODAY

http://clingspiration.com/

A Visit...Postponed

Ever have plans all laid out, details in line, and the whole thing falls through?  What was supposed to happen just doesn't happen.  We've all been there.

Disappointment sets in.
Sometimes we even get upset.
And often, we experience frustration, too.

Let me back up to a couple of weeks ago.

After our last visit with Mya's biological family, we began making plans for them to travel to our hometown for another visit.  Visiting us was going to be a first.  And two visits in one year would be another first.

Emails were sent back-and-forth.  Plans were slowly being made.  Details were aligning.

And then a bit of a surprise.  An email showed up in my inbox from Mya's biological family, asking if we attend church...asking if they could join us for worship on the Sunday they planned to visit with us.  I was so surprised that I was a bit shocked.  But very much excited - with anticipation.

You see, our church family...along with our amazing extended families...played several key roles in our lives.  They were our prayer warriors.  Our supporters.  Our shoulders to cry on.  And our rays of sunshine in the midst of the waiting, the longing, and the pain...of wanting a child of our own.  And so the thought of our church families' lives being able to cross paths with Mya's biological family seemed like a beautiful scenario.  Another blessing.

But just this week, as we were now only days away from the upcoming visit, I received yet another email informing us that Mya's biological family was no longer going to be able to visit.  For a very good reason.  But my heart was sad for the cancelled opportunity.

The whole time the plans were forming, I tried not to allow my own selfish desires to get in the way of this visit.  I kept refocusing my thoughts, reminding myself that this visit to our church would happen IF it's supposed to happen and WHEN it's supposed to happen.

This has been a good reminder for me that things happen for a reason.

Sometimes this is hard to accept.  And even easier to become frustrated and disappointed by.  But through this recent situation, I've been challenged to accept and embrace this change.  My hope still rests in knowing that a visit by Mya's biological family to our hometown WILL happen if and when it's SUPPOSED to happen.  And although everything seemed to be aligning for this visit, 'now' just wasn't quite the right moment.  For reasons unknown.  But I'm trusting and hoping...and am still believing that our worlds will cross and connect in this way sometime soon.  In God's perfect timing.

So rather than looking at this visit as a cancellation, I'm looking at it as a postponement - an opportunity to visit together, to reconnect, at a later date.  Maybe weeks, possibly months, or even years from now.  But with peace, I can say that it will be at a better time.