Today I had the privilege of having a taste of the fore mentioned dessert. It was not my favourite…
Today I was at training for the new job I’m at. It was the final day of several. I was hired along with another girl as a support worker in a home for people with developmental disabilities. This is the field I have gone back to school to pursue.
I have to be completely honest and admit that it was not my initial choice when looking at programs to take. I knew that I wanted to work with kids (as I have always worked with children in some capacity and LOVED it). I also knew that I liked working in small groups or one-on-one with people. Another concept I was taken with was that of being a believer in the ‘under dog’. I had previously taught piano for about 10 years before returning to school. I didn’t do it because I had any remote love for music (at least not what I was teaching), but I did have a love of teaching and revealing talent to a student that they were unaware of. I learned through this experience that it wasn’t the kid who picked up the lessons quickly that was gifted, it was the one that didn’t but tried all the harder because of it. They were the ones I taught for. Seeing the ‘light bulb’ go on when they got something that they couldn’t do before. Or when they did what they never thought they could. THAT was why I taught.
That is what I wanted in my new endeavor, to teach and be taught in unexpected ways.
When I went perusing the college books for programs that would give me this I found what I thought would be the perfect fit for me. Educational Assisting: working with children who have varying degrees of learning, behavioral or developmental disabilities. It sounded like a perfect fit. The catch was that the only school that had a specific program for that was a few hours away. For a couple of weeks we considered that option. After much thought I decided to go with a the college Wally went to that offered a more general field along that line and then had a 1 year post grad. I could do later. The first time I read up on that program a few weeks earlier I looked at the ad for it and the picture and I thought ‘Wow, you have to be a certain kind of person to do that – I couldn’t do it’. I thought highly of people that could stand to do such work and deal with such people. I have no idea how or why but after a few weeks I decided on that vary program. I figured if this was the only way to where I needed to go I would have to toughen up quick. ( I do love a challenge though and perhaps that was in the back of my mind – overcoming my own insecurities).
I went ahead with this program with blind faith that God would give be exactly what I needed (whatever that was). The truth is most people that go to school for this (Developmental Services) have some sort of experience before hand, I just wanted to learn about something … anything.
What does all of this have to do with Humble Pie? Well, as I was saying I was at training today with another new co-worker. She is a young lady around 20-21 years old. She’s pretty much the opposite as I was at that age. Fun loving, free spirited, a bit immature perfect outside appearance and in University. She’s not studying the field we’re working in (as many of the people where I work don’t). She’s picked it up as a part time job while she’s in school and figuring out what to do with her life.
When I first met her and heard a bit about her I thought ‘Why did they hire you? You don’t even care about this field. You don’t know anything about it, and besides the guy with aggressive behaviours is going to break you in two during your first shift.’ Tisk. It was harsh but I’m trying to be honest here. It bothered me that I was going to school to work ‘in the field’, spent all of this time studying and here I come to find out that I didn’t even need to – they’d hire ANYONE.
Anyway, through out the past couple of days I’ve spent a lot of extra time with just her. Driving, lunch breaks and in group work. I have come to find out that in my most highly regarded opinion: this girl is much more equipped to do this job than I am (even though she says 'dude, totally, and like' far too often). She has amazing ideas, a great attitude, stick-with-it-ness that I know I wouldn’t have if not for my pride. SHE is why they hire people that aren’t students because they care too, and because much of the time they already have it in them (much of mine only grew from knowledge). I know that I couldn’t have done this job before I went to school, let alone when I was her age. Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for it now …
You see I’m used to being the best. This is not meant in a cocky way at all. What I mean is that I always try to figure out the best way to do something. I work hard to do it and I am used to gaining the respect of those I work for and with. Where I work now, I am humbled beyond what I thought was possible. I am the student always, not just taught by my co-workers but so much more by those I support (by the way they don’t care how hard you work but by how much you respect and care for them - that doesn't come in a book). These people are not angels, they are not perfect, they don’t get me all soft and cooshy inside (no more than anyone else). The truth is they can be frustrating, physically and mentally exhausting, and constantly pushing me to my limits. I doubt I will ever be ‘the best’ at this job (this drives me crazy!!!), but I am determined to be MY best at this job and keep my heart open to learn. Deep down though I know I’ve been led to this place for a reason. I know that if I never worked another day ‘in the field’, every second I’ve spend in school and on the front line has been worth it and has forever changed me.
Now if only I could get the taste of that nasty pie out of my mouth!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Not too much sex in this part of the city . . .
If you haven’t guessed it by now, Wally and I ended up in what is essentially a retirement village. Wrinkleville has a population of approximately 3000 with 11 buildings in an area smaller than a city block. As I mentioned before it has all the amenities, I quickly realized why.
The mall can service almost every need you have, from filling your prescriptions to outfitting you with a brand new scooter, or some brand spankin’ shiny new handle bars for your shower (in case you are a little shaky on your feet). In Wrinkleville there is a bus arriving perfectly on the half hour to whisk you downtown (if you are into furthering your horizons). It’s a place where the grass is always green (literally), and you can find daily aquafit lessons in the summer – free of charge. A person that is a few steps away from the grave really couldn’t ask for more!
A few days after we moved into our 7th floor apartment in our new village we were being introduced to the Benchwarmers in front of our building by our parking buddy. One lady told us “You won’t ever have to worry about moving again. The only way they get you outta here is in a body bag – ha!” Wow, thanks for giving us the heads up Bernice. I immediately pulled Wally aside and made him promise me that we would indeed leave this place walking with our own two feet. He promised.
Here are a few things we’ve learned after having lived in Wrinkleville for over a year:
People around here don’t stray too far from home.
Proof: Last Christmas Eve we had a large snowstorm pass through. The roads had been covered and the city was moving slow. I had gone out early in the morning to the grocery store (a good 50 paces away) and on the way back to our apartment ran into our neighbour. She was asked how the roads were. I said “Well the side streets around here are still fairly covered but Main Street (which is about 75 paces from our building) is clear, just stick to the main streets and you’ll have no troubles.” She looked at me as if I’d just come off of a rocket from Mars then replied: “Well, I certainly don’t plan on going that far!”
People here only recognize you in the context they are used to seeing you in.
Proof: We have 2 pooches. We walk them three times a day. People have come to know them very well. When they see us walking they don’t actually see us, they see the pooches. There is one little old lady that makes sure to remember and say each of their names every time she sees them. Once a friend was with her and she was doing her best to recite the pooches’ names but she was trying so hard to get them right the other lady thought she was trying to remember our names. We continually say and believe that people around here don’t give a hoot about us, just the dogs. “Where’s the ‘team’? You don’t have the dogs with you tonight? Where are the boys? Oh hello, I didn’t recognize you without your dogs!” We’ve even had perfect strangers see the dogs in the elevator with us and say: “You must be the couple with the two little doggies I’ve heard so much about!” (The person who said this didn’t even live here!). And several other times we’ve be walking without the furballs and the people who normally greet us with a bright smiling hello, don’t even give us a glance.
People here no longer struggle with their body image.
We moved in at the peak of the summer season. The outdoor pool was open and as I mentioned before aquafit was in full swing. I had an invitation to join our first night here. I briefly considered going (I am a social person and had no social circle). However, I’m not the type of person that will run towards the chance to prance around in a bathing suit, or swim in icy waters so I didn’t end up going. I soon learned that any reservations I had about my body being on display were unfounded. Though I am about 20 pounds over weight and have scars that look like I have roughed the waters of giving birth (even though I haven’t), I really had nothing to be ashamed of. The ladies here definitely had something to teach me. In Wrinkleville there is no shame over sagging skin, wrinkles in places you didn’t think wrinkles could be, or body parts that had escaped their original origin. It was all fair game for display and there was no need to hide it. I still chuckle to myself when I see the ladies walking ever so slowly to the watering hole in their loosely draped housecoats with a good portion of their nearly expired bodies on display. I guess I have a lot to learn…
The mall can service almost every need you have, from filling your prescriptions to outfitting you with a brand new scooter, or some brand spankin’ shiny new handle bars for your shower (in case you are a little shaky on your feet). In Wrinkleville there is a bus arriving perfectly on the half hour to whisk you downtown (if you are into furthering your horizons). It’s a place where the grass is always green (literally), and you can find daily aquafit lessons in the summer – free of charge. A person that is a few steps away from the grave really couldn’t ask for more!
A few days after we moved into our 7th floor apartment in our new village we were being introduced to the Benchwarmers in front of our building by our parking buddy. One lady told us “You won’t ever have to worry about moving again. The only way they get you outta here is in a body bag – ha!” Wow, thanks for giving us the heads up Bernice. I immediately pulled Wally aside and made him promise me that we would indeed leave this place walking with our own two feet. He promised.
Here are a few things we’ve learned after having lived in Wrinkleville for over a year:
People around here don’t stray too far from home.
Proof: Last Christmas Eve we had a large snowstorm pass through. The roads had been covered and the city was moving slow. I had gone out early in the morning to the grocery store (a good 50 paces away) and on the way back to our apartment ran into our neighbour. She was asked how the roads were. I said “Well the side streets around here are still fairly covered but Main Street (which is about 75 paces from our building) is clear, just stick to the main streets and you’ll have no troubles.” She looked at me as if I’d just come off of a rocket from Mars then replied: “Well, I certainly don’t plan on going that far!”
People here only recognize you in the context they are used to seeing you in.
Proof: We have 2 pooches. We walk them three times a day. People have come to know them very well. When they see us walking they don’t actually see us, they see the pooches. There is one little old lady that makes sure to remember and say each of their names every time she sees them. Once a friend was with her and she was doing her best to recite the pooches’ names but she was trying so hard to get them right the other lady thought she was trying to remember our names. We continually say and believe that people around here don’t give a hoot about us, just the dogs. “Where’s the ‘team’? You don’t have the dogs with you tonight? Where are the boys? Oh hello, I didn’t recognize you without your dogs!” We’ve even had perfect strangers see the dogs in the elevator with us and say: “You must be the couple with the two little doggies I’ve heard so much about!” (The person who said this didn’t even live here!). And several other times we’ve be walking without the furballs and the people who normally greet us with a bright smiling hello, don’t even give us a glance.
People here no longer struggle with their body image.
We moved in at the peak of the summer season. The outdoor pool was open and as I mentioned before aquafit was in full swing. I had an invitation to join our first night here. I briefly considered going (I am a social person and had no social circle). However, I’m not the type of person that will run towards the chance to prance around in a bathing suit, or swim in icy waters so I didn’t end up going. I soon learned that any reservations I had about my body being on display were unfounded. Though I am about 20 pounds over weight and have scars that look like I have roughed the waters of giving birth (even though I haven’t), I really had nothing to be ashamed of. The ladies here definitely had something to teach me. In Wrinkleville there is no shame over sagging skin, wrinkles in places you didn’t think wrinkles could be, or body parts that had escaped their original origin. It was all fair game for display and there was no need to hide it. I still chuckle to myself when I see the ladies walking ever so slowly to the watering hole in their loosely draped housecoats with a good portion of their nearly expired bodies on display. I guess I have a lot to learn…
Movin' on up . . .
Once I started back to school Wally and I knew there was something we HAD to do, and soon: get our house ready to be sold. We knew that there was no way we could keep up a mortgage, pay twice the tuition, books and commuting. We were already paying twice as much in cars/gas/parking as we were in mortgage payments. We knew the smart thing to do would be to sell the house and move to an apartment where the school was located. Our goal was to get through school without any debt. If we were starting over we were going to do it smart.
The first semester I was in school we fixed up the house as I went to school full time, worked every waking moment I wasn’t studying, Wally completed his first co-op. I remember this being one of the most stressful times for us. We knew that we had only two months from the completion of my first semester to get the house sold (and hopefully get what we were asking for in the process - by the time that semester was over we only had enough money to get us through 2 months and after that we didn’t know how we were going to live). The house went on the market on a Monday (a week after I was done) and sold the Friday, for only $1900 under our asking price. Whew!! We had 3 weeks to find a new place and move out.
Just to give a bit of context to the situation I have to tell you that Wally and I had pretty much lived in the same place all our lives. The town we were in only had a population of around 2000 people, and the city we were moving to had a population over 350 000. A big change for us - to say the least! We had never lived in an apartment building, taken a city bus, done much city driving, or lived over an hour away from our parents (my parents lived 2 blocks away). We were infants to this new world we were entering. However we did it anyway.
We didn’t even know where to start looking for a place to live. We had heard a few things but not enough to really know where was a good area and where wasn’t. We soon found out. We checked out a couple of places and settled on one. The rent was decent, the apartment nice, it was on a bus route, and it had a dog park close by (he have 2 pooches), what more could we want? We had all the paper work signed and ready to go in to accept the place. Wally was going to drop it off on the way home from school that day. At lunch he mentioned to his school pals the place we’d be moving to. 4 sets of eyeballs dropped to the floor. One friend told him that we simply couldn’t move there. Apparently it was one of the roughest parts of the city, lots of gang activity, crime and all that fun stuff. So we were back to square one . . .
Fortunately the friend that told us we couldn’t move there sent us a link to a building complex. So we set an appointment to check it out. It was quaint, safe, had a mall right there with all the necessities and once again on the bus route - we took it on the spot. As we got in the car to drive home we both felt a huge sense of relief and excitement that we finally found our new home, but then I began to notice something . . . there were a lot of people with walkers, canes and white hair roaming the sidewalks. After the fifth or sixth one I thought to myself ‘Oh dear, what have we done?’
The first semester I was in school we fixed up the house as I went to school full time, worked every waking moment I wasn’t studying, Wally completed his first co-op. I remember this being one of the most stressful times for us. We knew that we had only two months from the completion of my first semester to get the house sold (and hopefully get what we were asking for in the process - by the time that semester was over we only had enough money to get us through 2 months and after that we didn’t know how we were going to live). The house went on the market on a Monday (a week after I was done) and sold the Friday, for only $1900 under our asking price. Whew!! We had 3 weeks to find a new place and move out.
Just to give a bit of context to the situation I have to tell you that Wally and I had pretty much lived in the same place all our lives. The town we were in only had a population of around 2000 people, and the city we were moving to had a population over 350 000. A big change for us - to say the least! We had never lived in an apartment building, taken a city bus, done much city driving, or lived over an hour away from our parents (my parents lived 2 blocks away). We were infants to this new world we were entering. However we did it anyway.
We didn’t even know where to start looking for a place to live. We had heard a few things but not enough to really know where was a good area and where wasn’t. We soon found out. We checked out a couple of places and settled on one. The rent was decent, the apartment nice, it was on a bus route, and it had a dog park close by (he have 2 pooches), what more could we want? We had all the paper work signed and ready to go in to accept the place. Wally was going to drop it off on the way home from school that day. At lunch he mentioned to his school pals the place we’d be moving to. 4 sets of eyeballs dropped to the floor. One friend told him that we simply couldn’t move there. Apparently it was one of the roughest parts of the city, lots of gang activity, crime and all that fun stuff. So we were back to square one . . .
Fortunately the friend that told us we couldn’t move there sent us a link to a building complex. So we set an appointment to check it out. It was quaint, safe, had a mall right there with all the necessities and once again on the bus route - we took it on the spot. As we got in the car to drive home we both felt a huge sense of relief and excitement that we finally found our new home, but then I began to notice something . . . there were a lot of people with walkers, canes and white hair roaming the sidewalks. After the fifth or sixth one I thought to myself ‘Oh dear, what have we done?’
Monday, July 6, 2009
"You're doing what?!"
When we made the announcement to our parents and families that Wally would be returning to school they were full of support and excitement over our decision. No one felt the barn was a good fit for him and his talents and they knew that now was the time for us to go ahead in our lives to do this.
SIDE BAR: I just want to explain to anyone reading this who's thinking 'Big deal you wanted to go back to school, people do it all of the time'. We were raised to grow up get married settle down and have a family. Do the job you first get when you are young and don’t quit until you retire. The fact that we were putting a lot of this on hold was looked at as different, especially in the place we grew up. A place where you were born, raised, educated and worked your whole life only to continue the cycle on and on.
The first year Wally would be going to school for 12 months straight – the plan was that I would work him through. It would be a hard year for us but we would do it and then after that he would have a co-op term after each semester of school until it was done. The co-op terms are paid job experiences so that would ease the financial strain and definitely help get us through without having to give up our home that we had been working so diligently to update and repair in the most cost efficient ways we knew of. That was ‘the plan’ …
Until the day I went to Wally and shared my desire to get an education too. You see I had actually been the one that had wanted to go back to school from the start, but it didn’t make sense to us to do that. I wanted to stay home with our kids someday, so why would I be the one to go to school? Well I had been doing a lot of thinking and was challenged to consider the idea of BOTH of us getting an education. Initially when I brought this up with Wally we decided that when he was done school I would then go back. That way we could keep our home and not mess up ‘the plan’.
By July of that first year the longing to go back to school was so great that I almost couldn’t handle it anymore. I really felt we were being called to take a risk, make a move. When I shared this with Wally he was supportive (shockingly so – he later admitted that deep down he was thinking ‘Oh my goodness! You can’t do that!!!’). He thought about it for a while and soon agreed that I too would join him at school exactly a year after he went back.
This time when we sat down with our families it was a different story though. First we told my parents. I was so nervous. I figured my pop would be good (he is a great promoter of education and himself went to night school for 10 years to get a diploma), but I knew my mama would be a different story. When we broke the news about our plans for me to go back to school, rather than the elated voices and excitement that was shown to Wally, I got a silent reading of my acceptance letter – with furrowed brow. The first question mama asked was “Do you really need to go to school to do this job?” followed by “You are still going to work full time though, right?” Needless to say I was crushed at the lack of acceptance from my own mother but tried to let it go. Why did it seem that it was totally ok for me to support my husband to follow his dreams but it was completely selfish of me to follow mine – even after the 12 months of school I would be putting him through? (Not to mention unemployment in years gone by, once again another post for another time).
Smoky mama and Smoky pops (Wally’s parents) were far more accepting of our decision, which did make things easier for me to allow myself to get excited. The only catch was ‘the plan’ was now void. We had some thinking to do…
SIDE BAR: I just want to explain to anyone reading this who's thinking 'Big deal you wanted to go back to school, people do it all of the time'. We were raised to grow up get married settle down and have a family. Do the job you first get when you are young and don’t quit until you retire. The fact that we were putting a lot of this on hold was looked at as different, especially in the place we grew up. A place where you were born, raised, educated and worked your whole life only to continue the cycle on and on.
The first year Wally would be going to school for 12 months straight – the plan was that I would work him through. It would be a hard year for us but we would do it and then after that he would have a co-op term after each semester of school until it was done. The co-op terms are paid job experiences so that would ease the financial strain and definitely help get us through without having to give up our home that we had been working so diligently to update and repair in the most cost efficient ways we knew of. That was ‘the plan’ …
Until the day I went to Wally and shared my desire to get an education too. You see I had actually been the one that had wanted to go back to school from the start, but it didn’t make sense to us to do that. I wanted to stay home with our kids someday, so why would I be the one to go to school? Well I had been doing a lot of thinking and was challenged to consider the idea of BOTH of us getting an education. Initially when I brought this up with Wally we decided that when he was done school I would then go back. That way we could keep our home and not mess up ‘the plan’.
By July of that first year the longing to go back to school was so great that I almost couldn’t handle it anymore. I really felt we were being called to take a risk, make a move. When I shared this with Wally he was supportive (shockingly so – he later admitted that deep down he was thinking ‘Oh my goodness! You can’t do that!!!’). He thought about it for a while and soon agreed that I too would join him at school exactly a year after he went back.
This time when we sat down with our families it was a different story though. First we told my parents. I was so nervous. I figured my pop would be good (he is a great promoter of education and himself went to night school for 10 years to get a diploma), but I knew my mama would be a different story. When we broke the news about our plans for me to go back to school, rather than the elated voices and excitement that was shown to Wally, I got a silent reading of my acceptance letter – with furrowed brow. The first question mama asked was “Do you really need to go to school to do this job?” followed by “You are still going to work full time though, right?” Needless to say I was crushed at the lack of acceptance from my own mother but tried to let it go. Why did it seem that it was totally ok for me to support my husband to follow his dreams but it was completely selfish of me to follow mine – even after the 12 months of school I would be putting him through? (Not to mention unemployment in years gone by, once again another post for another time).
Smoky mama and Smoky pops (Wally’s parents) were far more accepting of our decision, which did make things easier for me to allow myself to get excited. The only catch was ‘the plan’ was now void. We had some thinking to do…
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes ... college?
So I have to tell you that when I got married at the tender age of barely 21 to another young 21 year old I pretty much thought I had my life figured out.
Get married young (21 yrs old – done).Then buy a house, start within a year or two to have babies, give birth to 4 perfect children by the time I was 30 years of age, stay home and raise them, perhaps adopt a couple more, support my husband through whatever came his way and live happily ever after … the end. How hard could it possibly be to just exist as a normal little family.
Hmmmmm. Apparently harder than I thought.
By our second anniversary we had accomplished the first 2 items on our list and thought we were well on our way to getting number 3 started… what happened? Well, not number 3. Wally and I didn’t ever ‘try’ to make the baby thing happen, we just wanted to see what would happen if we didn’t try to not make things happen. Make sense? I mean I had always desperately wanted to be a mother – it was my only real goal in life. I didn’t go to school because of it. I always thought ‘Why go into debt for an education I’ll never use? I’m going to stay home and be a mommy, that’s all I want’. However with that being said we never wanted to force things to happen either. We had watched different couples focus on getting pregnant so much that it seemed they forgot why they were together in the first place. A close relative of mine had ended up with triplets (at age 27) after starting the fertility process shortly after pursuing pregnancy, five years later they had another child all on their own. I’d also witnessed an aunt and uncle try to get pregnant for 10 years and in the end adopted a beautiful little girl from China. Ten years of heartache and abuse on her poor body, and no doubt strain in their marriage. Not to mention the fact that he was older than her by several years with 2 grown children, time wasn’t exactly on their side - it was good that they adopted when they did.
Wally and I just never wanted to lose sight of what was best for us as a couple or each other as individuals. So after a couple of years of waiting ‘to see what would happen’, we realized that we may never get pregnant. We then made a decision. No, we didn’t go through tests or go to doctors to find out who was ‘broken’. Nor did we make a decision to let everyone know what was going on so they could stop pestering us about having children or feel dreadfully sorry for us, or give us unwanted advice. Instead we re-evaluated things…
Wally was at this time working at a pig barn. You see Wally is not the kind of guy, (if you know him) that you would expect to be able to work in a pig barn. But for me he did, to save his marriage he did. (There is sooooo much more that goes with this story that will have to be shared in another post or two). I knew he wasn’t happy and I was finally ready to help him make a change. I begged him to go back to school. I knew that if we were going to adopt someday in order to have the family we always wanted that he would need an education that could provide a job that he could do with all of his heart and abilities. (I want to say clearly I don’ think that there is anything at all with working in a pig barn but this was not Wally’s dream or where his gifts were, he wasn’t really happy, just coping – I can’t settle for coping).
This was sort of a big step for me - to push Wally back to school. This would mean that for the next 3 years I would have to continue to work fulltime and put aside my hopes of a family for a bit longer. I’ll admit though it took a while for me to get to this point. I tried to just focus on him and his happiness (and of course mine too in the end). I knew that if he wasn’t doing a job that he got some sort of satisfaction out of he wouldn’t be as good of a dad or husband as he could be at a job that he felt more fitted to.
So after a few months of pondering and pushing Wally agreed to go back to school. For him, for me, and for our future.
Get married young (21 yrs old – done).Then buy a house, start within a year or two to have babies, give birth to 4 perfect children by the time I was 30 years of age, stay home and raise them, perhaps adopt a couple more, support my husband through whatever came his way and live happily ever after … the end. How hard could it possibly be to just exist as a normal little family.
Hmmmmm. Apparently harder than I thought.
By our second anniversary we had accomplished the first 2 items on our list and thought we were well on our way to getting number 3 started… what happened? Well, not number 3. Wally and I didn’t ever ‘try’ to make the baby thing happen, we just wanted to see what would happen if we didn’t try to not make things happen. Make sense? I mean I had always desperately wanted to be a mother – it was my only real goal in life. I didn’t go to school because of it. I always thought ‘Why go into debt for an education I’ll never use? I’m going to stay home and be a mommy, that’s all I want’. However with that being said we never wanted to force things to happen either. We had watched different couples focus on getting pregnant so much that it seemed they forgot why they were together in the first place. A close relative of mine had ended up with triplets (at age 27) after starting the fertility process shortly after pursuing pregnancy, five years later they had another child all on their own. I’d also witnessed an aunt and uncle try to get pregnant for 10 years and in the end adopted a beautiful little girl from China. Ten years of heartache and abuse on her poor body, and no doubt strain in their marriage. Not to mention the fact that he was older than her by several years with 2 grown children, time wasn’t exactly on their side - it was good that they adopted when they did.
Wally and I just never wanted to lose sight of what was best for us as a couple or each other as individuals. So after a couple of years of waiting ‘to see what would happen’, we realized that we may never get pregnant. We then made a decision. No, we didn’t go through tests or go to doctors to find out who was ‘broken’. Nor did we make a decision to let everyone know what was going on so they could stop pestering us about having children or feel dreadfully sorry for us, or give us unwanted advice. Instead we re-evaluated things…
Wally was at this time working at a pig barn. You see Wally is not the kind of guy, (if you know him) that you would expect to be able to work in a pig barn. But for me he did, to save his marriage he did. (There is sooooo much more that goes with this story that will have to be shared in another post or two). I knew he wasn’t happy and I was finally ready to help him make a change. I begged him to go back to school. I knew that if we were going to adopt someday in order to have the family we always wanted that he would need an education that could provide a job that he could do with all of his heart and abilities. (I want to say clearly I don’ think that there is anything at all with working in a pig barn but this was not Wally’s dream or where his gifts were, he wasn’t really happy, just coping – I can’t settle for coping).
This was sort of a big step for me - to push Wally back to school. This would mean that for the next 3 years I would have to continue to work fulltime and put aside my hopes of a family for a bit longer. I’ll admit though it took a while for me to get to this point. I tried to just focus on him and his happiness (and of course mine too in the end). I knew that if he wasn’t doing a job that he got some sort of satisfaction out of he wouldn’t be as good of a dad or husband as he could be at a job that he felt more fitted to.
So after a few months of pondering and pushing Wally agreed to go back to school. For him, for me, and for our future.
How Eva and Wally came to be
I’ve been thinking and thinking trying to figure out what I should do my first post on. I didn’t want it to be contrived or premeditated. Wally suggested I write one that gives a little background to who I am and a bit of my recent history, so I am going to take up his suggestion and just type hoping that it’ll give you a window into where I am coming from (at least to start with)…
Wally and I met in high school during our final year. He was a year older than I but we were both graduating (we had an option at our school to go an extra year to prep us for university). I snagged him in English class for help on a project (since I didn’t know anyone else much). We started spending some time together on the project and as a result built a close friendship rather quickly. After several weeks we knew that we had to choice: a relationship or bust. We had a pretty close friendship, not the best kind to have while you are having a relationship with someone else. Wally went away for a training camp for 2 weeks and it was then we felt God speak to his heart and say ‘that’s the girl for you’. While Wally was away I had pretty much come to the conclusion that a relationship with each other wouldn’t work since we were from two very different Christian backgrounds that often conflicted with one another. We both realized this probably wasn’t the best way to carry on in a relationship so we’d initially assumed ‘Hey why not share everything with each other since we’ll never be romantically involved!’ (This is what probably bonded us so fast). Boy we were wrong… Wally came back and revealed to me that we felt sure that God had spoken to his heart that I was ‘THE one’ for him. After he told me that I was shocked. I had pretty much prepared myself to let him go so he could find the perfect girl for him (even though I’d really miss his friendship). I had heard those words from another person before whom I felt nothing for (and remember at this point we were very good friends but there really wasn’t a romantic attraction, we were relying on Someone else to help us figure this out). Anyways, I told Wally that if it was true that I would be shown the same thing and at that point I hadn’t been – AT ALL! Wally said that was fine, he’d wait (also words I’d heard before). Anyway not too many days later I ‘came to’ and knew that Wally indeed was right – we were meant to be together.
A little less than 3 years later Wally and I tied the knot. I think we only ever went out on one date-type outing (and that was before we were a ‘couple’). We went for ice cream just for fun and he insisted on paying – WEIRD!!! Friends don’t pay for friends! I was incredibly uncomfortable the whole time and somehow I got out of ever having to go through that awkwardness again. From the start have been great friends. (I have to mention that when we started out he was love sick over another girl we went to school with). He thought I was flaky and I thought he was a total geek … needless to say that changed and our relationship developed out of a common love for God and a deep respect for each other.
It all sounds so romantic when I write this now … but you will soon find out romance has never really been our niche.
Wally and I met in high school during our final year. He was a year older than I but we were both graduating (we had an option at our school to go an extra year to prep us for university). I snagged him in English class for help on a project (since I didn’t know anyone else much). We started spending some time together on the project and as a result built a close friendship rather quickly. After several weeks we knew that we had to choice: a relationship or bust. We had a pretty close friendship, not the best kind to have while you are having a relationship with someone else. Wally went away for a training camp for 2 weeks and it was then we felt God speak to his heart and say ‘that’s the girl for you’. While Wally was away I had pretty much come to the conclusion that a relationship with each other wouldn’t work since we were from two very different Christian backgrounds that often conflicted with one another. We both realized this probably wasn’t the best way to carry on in a relationship so we’d initially assumed ‘Hey why not share everything with each other since we’ll never be romantically involved!’ (This is what probably bonded us so fast). Boy we were wrong… Wally came back and revealed to me that we felt sure that God had spoken to his heart that I was ‘THE one’ for him. After he told me that I was shocked. I had pretty much prepared myself to let him go so he could find the perfect girl for him (even though I’d really miss his friendship). I had heard those words from another person before whom I felt nothing for (and remember at this point we were very good friends but there really wasn’t a romantic attraction, we were relying on Someone else to help us figure this out). Anyways, I told Wally that if it was true that I would be shown the same thing and at that point I hadn’t been – AT ALL! Wally said that was fine, he’d wait (also words I’d heard before). Anyway not too many days later I ‘came to’ and knew that Wally indeed was right – we were meant to be together.
A little less than 3 years later Wally and I tied the knot. I think we only ever went out on one date-type outing (and that was before we were a ‘couple’). We went for ice cream just for fun and he insisted on paying – WEIRD!!! Friends don’t pay for friends! I was incredibly uncomfortable the whole time and somehow I got out of ever having to go through that awkwardness again. From the start have been great friends. (I have to mention that when we started out he was love sick over another girl we went to school with). He thought I was flaky and I thought he was a total geek … needless to say that changed and our relationship developed out of a common love for God and a deep respect for each other.
It all sounds so romantic when I write this now … but you will soon find out romance has never really been our niche.
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