Letter to God

Alright, just a warning the following you may not understand--  I really do not expect anyone too-- It is more that a very private space in my life has been made public and I am a little angry and do not have another space to share with anyone.  So in 'celebration' of that private space becoming public domain I chose to make my very private thoughts to God public also--  And yes I am a little angry.  I am truly sorry about that, but I figure God is God and I am most definitely not so he can deal with my anger a hell of alot better than I can.

Dear God,

You've been asking me what I am willing to sacrifice.  And you've given me the choice-- not that it really is because I belong to you and so if you want it given it is yours.  It is that way despite my thoughts or emotions, so here it is.  The reality is I am yours.  So everything in me no bars, no excepts, no 'not thats', and no off limit belong to you.  Even that place that I thought was so sacred and special and holy is yours to do with what you will.  Even if I don't like it.   So here it is.  Do whatever you will though I know I do not like this-- no promises I will recover from this.  I know all times before you picked me up and dusted me off and helped me get better.  This time this is by your own hand.  Be it the way you want it.  Here is my handing over-- officially.  It is yours wholly and hands off by me.  Just don't expect me to smile alright?  I'll be wherever you want me to be and I will do whatever it is you want me to do, but no artificial, okay?  I won't pretend to be alive when I am dead.  I won't pretend to be happy when I've been left naked and exposed.  I won't act as if life is wonderful when I'd rather you would just impale me.  There that's it-- And oh is this everything?  Will you somehow protect those I love so dearly?  You know-- my husband, my children, my grandchildren, my sister, my mom-- can you somehow explain to them what has transpired between you and I?  Because I don't know that I can.  Just explain my hidden tears when they see them.  And explain to them when I try to smile but fail.  Explain how hard this is as only you can because I am not you and I do not have the words to make them understand.  I can hardly grasp what you are asking, but still it is yours plain and simple.

I love you even though I do not understand.  You are my God and you died for me and so I am not above dying for you.  Even if I do not recover---  That is in your hands and your choice not mine.

Catherine

Blast from the past??? Maybe?

Alright, I know that's a weird title, maybe you are wondering, "Hey Cat, what's up?"  Well here you go I'm going to tell you!  I met alot of really nice people today and had some awesome conversations too.  That part was super duper great.  There was one person that in his mannerisms, speech, and even appearance reminded me of someone I knew twenty some odd years ago when I still lived in the Riverside area where I grew up.

It was kinda interesting because quite honest he was a dead ringer, and seemed to almost act as if he knew me, but he never really said.  I didn't speak my thought because I wasn't sure-- after twenty plus years who could be sure?  Besides I am in a small town in Northern Iowa, and though, being honest, I have searched a little on facebook to see what came of said person in months past have never had any success finding anything.

Besides this is a person I haven't had any contact with since Meg was a year old!  What would make me think he would come here?  Really?  You could tell he was not from Iowa.  Laugh if you will, but there is a certain way Iowans act, dress, and carry themselves that you just know who's native born, transplant, or just passing through.  He definitely was passing through.  In fact he very much looked like someone from Southern Cali-- Which again really has me wondering is it possible that he is a blast from the past?  Then again my logic turns on me and says "Really?  You are just bugging!"  Excuse the slang, but it just seems to fit-- even Meg says so!  

Meg also has her opinion that it could be said person-- She would almost bet on it, especially after talking to a friend who knew him when I did, and showing her a picture Meg took.  My friend swore it was him! Honestly I just don't know what to think-- except God sure does have a sense of humor-- at least in my life. What else will happen on this new adventure?  I just raised a half way amused eyebrow to that thought and once more I'm back to wondering was it my old friend from years past?

Perhaps I will never know.  He didn't say he knew me and didn't leave a card with a last name, so maybe he didn't really want me to know who he was, and I guess that's alright.  Except darn it!  I would really like to know!  One way or another I had a blast from the past!

Hey!   Wishing everyone a good laugh on my silly account :)  And if I find out it was my friend from years ago I'll let you know!

This is Cat out.

The Key to Her Heart Book Tour has begun!!!

Had an awesome time in Iowa Falls today.  Talking is always a stretch for me until I get in the middle of it, and then I feel comfortable and get in the swing.  You have to laugh!  I was so nervous and excited about visiting with the people in Iowa Falls simply because it is the first book event I have ever done, but it was wonderful.  I met Tim, Sherri, Amanda, and Mark to name a few people-- that's with me being bad at remembering names! There were probably more than a dozen people I was blessed to meet and hold conversations with.  Everyone was friendly and smiled easily, and I got to share a plate of cookies--  That's always a nice thing.  The coffee was tasty- as always at The Coffee Attic-- On that one the name says it all.  It's a cozy and warm environment that makes it easy for all nerves to just melt away.  On top of all that I did sell some books!  But I tell you it is the people that make it a worthwhile day!  :)  Here's some pictures and I hope to see some new faces in Mason City next week!  If you are in the area drop by Book World next Saturday around eleven in the morning!  I would love to meet you!

Just a couple of the neat-o people I had the privilege to talk with! 

It is Tory's third birthday!

Today my cute little Tory turned three years old!

Tory held up three fingers to show how old she was, but just as Todd clicked the picture she decided five fingers was much better!

She is funny and cute and the light of my life!  She's ornery and will tell you just what she thinks whether you want to hear it or not!  She scolds Peter "Peter listen to Grandma!"  when he's not doing what he's suppose to and then turns around laughing as he gets upset at her for 'acting like his mother'.  She still loves her bottle, and she is slowly potty training, but she hates underpants.  She would rather just wear her pant or go bare but (her personal favorite for potty training days).  She's got more attitude and spunk than a teenager, but always has a smile.  Watch out if she gets upset; her anger is silent and hidden.  She won't pout or scream.  She just will scowl once in  awhile and do exactly opposite as you want her to do.  Everything has her own time table.  She is way ahead of most preschoolers in speech and at the same time taking her time learning her colors.  This week she decided to suck her thumb though she never sucked her thumb as a baby.  We dare not say anything, hoping it will pass in another week or so.  Baby dolls are her favorite things.  Chasing our two cats gives her the giggles, and using a cleaning wipe to clean door handles she thinks is one of the best activities around (well for five or ten minutes at least).  A month ago she went to the movie theater to see Frozen, and now asks Aunt Hope to sing the 'snowman song' to her everyday and proceeds to sing with her when she does.   She jumps, skips, walks, pounces on Peter or the cats, and gallops, but you won't see her run.  It just won't happen.  She has the ability, but doesn't like to.  If I was to sum up Tory into one sentence (it would be close to impossible) I'd say something like --  She has her own thoughts and her own time table always served with a smile or a giggle and a funny little comeback spoken with spunk.  For being so young she fills big steps, and she sure has taken over all our lives beautifully in just three years!

The princess all tuckered out from her very busy birthday with her very favorite pink bottle (no other bottle will do).

Today was a full day.  In the morning she followed Todd and Hope around while I tried to write on here (It didn't go well. My original entry got eaten by cyberspace!).  Then Hope and I took her shopping-- She is a princess and shopping is one of her favorite activities--  I shutter to think what teenagerhood is going to be like!  We went to Toys R Us and let her loose.  She had a blast picking out a baby doll.  Next we went to Target and there she picked out a small rolling suitcase for our up coming trip--  She's been asking to go to the beach and play in the sand for months.  In three weeks we are going to visit her great grandparents in Florida.  By the time we got out of Target she had laid her head down and was asleep in the shopping cart.
Hope and I brought her home, and she woke up and got her bath.  Then she played downstairs and ate dinner.  After watching a movie with Peter she asked to go to bed because she was tired.  The above picture is after Todd carried her upstairs while I worked on writing this post.

Here is Tory posing for Grandpa to take her picture because I told her I was going to write about her.  She's my ballerina princess.  She is dressed in two of her favorite things anything pink and Minnie Mouse.

I am so glad and privileged to be her mama & grandma.  Happy Birthday to my three year old princess!

The Constitution Is it any longer fit for this country?

I've been on Twitter half the night, and reading everything the people who follow me and I follow have to say.  I'm in the company of alot of conservatives and I don't mind really because I'm pretty conservative.  I'm also in the company of alot of angry Americans and again I don't mind because I tend to be pretty angry at what I see happening in our country.  Usually I don't write here about this, but on Twitter there just isn't enough space to talk about what needs to be talked about.

It is not about who's right and who's wrong really when it comes right down to it.  It is about what we have lost.  Our country isn't ruled by our founding document-  The Constitution anymore.  Let's just face it.
We've wanted more and it was denying us all we wanted.  It was written in hopes of it ruling how our country is run.  The problem was it wasn't big enough for a country who has lost its morals, its goodness, and its reason.  That is where we are.

We are a feely bunch on the whole.  We want everyone to have an easy time even at the expense (both literally and figuratively) of those that are working their asses off day in and day out.  We want our money even if we have to get rid of the gold standard.  We want everyone to be able to own a house even if they haven't worked and planned for it.  We want healthcare even for those who don't want it for themselves.  We want those who-- ummm shall we say-- make a mistake to be able to take the life of the gift they were given.  We want to live without consequences to our actions.  We want to believe that we can do what ever we want and it doesn't matter who we hurt. We basically want our decadent cake and we want to shove it all in our own faces without gaining any weight or without sharing it because after all it is ours.

The problem is that makes everyone else pays for what we want.  The taxpayer pays more.  The child loses the chance to live. The mortgage market becomes so tight no one can get money to buy a house even those that have planned and been careful. The man forgets that the woman is not just there for his use and abuse. Our money is worthless. The elderly are ignored.  The soldier is forgotten. The single mom trying to raise her kids and working hard has no kindness.  The victim has no way to heal.  Children are left to the system to be raised.  Fathers leave their families.  Mother forget to mother.  Murder sky rockets.  Crime in general goes out of control.  Children don't learn the basics of common goodness within the family structure because it no longer exists.  Selfishness reigns supreme.

If we say 'I can do whatever I want' or 'It doesn't matter what I do because it only hurts me' we are forgetting everyone around us.  Everything we do effects all those that are around us.  Child abuse, spousal abuse, and rape all are because of our inability to put someone ahead of our wants.  Theft happens because we can't wait for what we want or we refuse to put actual effort into work.  Murder happens because we don't reign in our anger or passion.  No law can regulate the human heart.  No law is going to make us moral.  We cannot go back to using the Constitution as our governing document until we learn the basics of governing our personal lives.

Until we can say 'I am going to do right because he/she matters as much as I do' we are lost.  When we make a practice of going to the nursing homes and spending time with the residents each week we give honor to those that fought for us to come into this world.  When we lean down to our child's level and teach them why it is important to do their best job we give honor to our future.  When we choose to learn from our mistakes and try to do better we begin to be healthy.  When fathers come back to their homes and help raise their children we change the next generation.  When we turn off the television and play a game in the evening instead we spread peace within our home and every person involved feels valued.  When we come along side the hurting, overworked, or burdened person and ask 'How can I help?' we show compassion and concern to a needy world.  When we put someone ahead of our wants the world becomes a better place.  When we control our spending and stay on budget we begin to heal our economy.  It starts in our little space in the world.

The state can't do it.  Welfare can't do it.  It starts with you and me.  It starts with realizing we can't fix everybody, but you can help where it is needed and warranted.  The hardest thing I had to do was allow my twenty year old daughter to be homeless.  She learned to work, then I could help her to get back on her feet.  At the same time my sixteen year old works her boody off and then her car broke down. I jumped to be her helper.  Friends of my children know me as Mom because I have at times housed them, helped them heal their wounds, listened to them, and corrected them.  My mom counts me as her friend because we talk several times a week even though we live two thousand miles apart.  My sister is sober and clean because I had her committed to a drug program.  When I did it she called me every name in the book, and told me she would never forgive me.  My biological mother had tears and told me she wished someone had cared enough to do that for her.  Now my sister is grateful.  Her daughter has her mother.  My daughter who is a working single mother I help by watching her son while she works.  These are the things I can do.  Hopefully it will inspire some to look around to see who they have forgotten.  We are not here for ourselves but for the people around us.  The state can't legislate it, and welfare can never go as far as concerned caring citizens.

Here's the deal.  If those of us who could-- did.  We wouldn't need welfare, and then because it's alot harder to swindle caring people who have loved and been kind to you than it is a stone government without a face, we would get rid of our entitlement issues.  If parents taught their children to work hard, how good it feels to do a good job, and how important honesty is crime would be cut.  If families came along side our young single mothers and cared about her and her children the children would grow up and not repeat her same pattern.  They would see family life at its best.  If people said no to themselves sometimes the whole world would benefit.  Date rape would cease to exist.  Abortion rates would definitely be cut, and so would the load of debt so many carry in this country.  If fathers simply cared about their children and their children's mothers and invested their time in the family they made we could turn this country around in one generation.

Once we work on our response to those around us, then  we can work on our country.  Honestly our political system needs an overhaul if we are ever to go back to the Constitution.  But so do we.  I cannot overhaul the country.  I am sure there are some out there that could.  But I can speak out.  I can help those around me.  I can donate part of what I make from my book to organizations that help others that need the help.  I can do the best I can to raise my children.  I can be careful with my finances.  I can vote.  I can help a single mother.  I can adopt a child. I can give food to the local food pantry. I can love those that seem the most unlovable.  I can forgive those who hurt me in the past.  I can teach others to do these things.  These are the things I am trying to do, and teaching my family to do.

What can you do?  Because complaining does nothing.  Do you want to change the system?  Then if you can-- do.  Don't stop even if it's painful-- and I promise it will be.  People will not understand.  They will ask you why you care so much.  They will not understand that our problem is not caring too much, but caring so little.  But you can tell them 'I'm changing this country in the only way I can.'

Then if alot of us do this then we can bring back a constitutional country and we can be proud Americans instead of angry ones.  Our crime rate would be low.  Welfare wouldn't be needed.  Taxes would then be lower. People in general would be happier.  We could once again call ourselves a moral people.  The Constitution was written for such a country.  But now the way we have left this land it doesn't work, and that is truly sad.

So are you willing?  Just being a voice piece isn't enough.  Put your action where your words are.  We can change things, but it isn't just by political action or complaining on Facebook or Twitter.  We must change our little corner of this land.

This is Cat out hoping that all of you that read this take up the challenge.

Adoption--- A view of the child that was adopted.

Alright I will be the first to admit I am probably not the most typical adopted child. Between having some massive complication from before birth and a few medical problems I was born with that went undiagnosed until I was an adult I just don't function like a typical person in general. But even with all that said I've had adoption on the brain lately and I was thinking if you've never come in contact with adoption then you may have some misconceptions, and so I wanted to give you a different view.

First let me get some things straight. I love my Mom, my Biological Mom, and My Mom-in-law more than I can even tell you here, and they have all three had an incredible impact on my life. Not to offend anyone reading this, but if I had chosen my own mother I would have chosen my mother-in-law over anyone. In fact I have the opinion-- humorous as it is-- that in heaven before my conception God gave me the choice of my parents. I made my choice, and then he said “Alright, if you want these parents then this is what you are going to have to go through...” And I saw the hell my life would have to become to get to have my mother-in-law and my dad as my parents. In my little funny vignette I hardily agreed, and proceeded to be conceived and born and adopted and raised and married and divorced and married again to finally get to what I asked God for. To this day I would tell you it was worth it even if this life is what it took.

Don't get me wrong I love my mom. She is an awesome person in a lot of ways, but she and I are very different. It took all the time I was a child and until I was twenty and pregnant with my own very stubborn daughter for me to really see how wonderful she is. As a child I gave her hell. The nice way of saying it is-- her parenting style and my being a child style just didn't mesh at all.

She did do a few things very right, though.

1. I always knew I was adopted. As a baby she called me 'my little adopted doll', and when I was old enough to ask she explained how special and wonderful I was because I was adopted. She talked openly with me about adoption and about my biological mother. I could ask any questions of her or my dad. When as a seventeen year old I began my first search to find my biological family she was there to help in anyway she could, though I found out later that she was scared to death that I would want my biological mother more than her.

2. Recently I realized she gave me methods and names for things that most people don't have to think about. You see in my family (birth family) there are a few things that are genetically hardwired. One is a form of autism called Asperger's Syndrome. My mother gave me names for my first-- birth mother-- my biological mother. She gave me ways of dealing with adoption. But even more importantly she gave me ways to learn to deal with people. My mother is very very social and part of a very very social family. As a child I had the propensity to be almost antisocial. She taught me how to act in every situation, and then forced me into those situations. Though I am still not comfortable at a party, for instance, I can be at one and know how to act and probably no one there would realize how blasted bad I wanted out of there! She taught me right behavior and wrong behavior. For a child with autism this is no easy task. Every time I said something out of line she would reteach me how to handle the circumstance again. For example I know to look people in the eyes when I am speaking to them, and to smile when I am speaking to them. Yes, to most people these are simple things, but to me, as a child, they were things that she had to pound into my head.

3. She did not give me excuses. I had dyslexia, but she worked with me day in day out to help me read better and get my math facts down. She taught me to walk straight. The doctors talked about braces for my feet at one point, but she instead had me place my feet on a line and walk on that line and we practiced and practiced until I could place my foot straight (I was extremely pigeon toed to the point that I literally tripped over my own feet.). She made me do eye exercises everyday until I learned to look straight on instead of up and to the side as was my propensity. I was extremely sick as a child ( she didn't know then but I had a liver condition that actually came from my biological mother's pregnancy with me), but I was still required to get up and ready for the day-- go to school if there was school-- be doing my chores or activities if there wasn't. I was never babied, though I was spoiled. Even on the issue of adoption, it was never an excuse but just a fact of life-- like having brown hair when others have blond or black. She taught me in this way to be strong.

4. She could get to me even when I least wanted her to. She could guess what stunt I was going to pull before I ever pulled it, and then would convince me not to do it. Now let me explain I am the most stubborn, bull headed, jack ass that ever lived. I mean this. I really don't mind this attribute either, but my mother had to fight me on everything. If she said go left I was damned sure to go right. If she said the sky was blue I would argue with her that it was red. So the fact that she could catch me and change my course is still amazing to me. I threw fits, would stubbornly dig my heels into the ground at the most stupid things, argue constantly, and fight everything even for no reason. I was clumsy beyond compare, messy to the point you couldn't even get into my room, and allergic to everything. She dealt with it all and more times than I can count kept me from shooting myself in the foot. I don't agree with all her methods, and we still have our issues, but I am so grateful for all the times she changed my course. By the way I've raised or am raising five kids just like me, and I've called her many times and cried “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all I did to you!” Because I do realize what she had to deal with now and am still quite mystified by a lot of her ways.

I was an impossible child to raise. As my mom said when I was a young mom “I was attached to you from the beginning, but it was not the same with you.” She was right. I was born angry. I am sure from what I know I came out screaming. When I spoke with my biological mother, Cindy, she told me about the day her mother found out she was pregnant and punched her in the stomach. Because of this and even some darker things I never completely attached to my mom until I had children.

From medical test where my liver is concerned, I have an autoimmune problem with my liver that is caused by male cells in my liver. Since I've never been male, never been pregnant with a male child, and have had the liver condition since I was born or before it was concluded I was a twin and my twin had to have lived past the first trimester plus a little. Basically I watched my twin brother cease to exist somewhere around four months gestation. When I found this out I named my brother Joseph-- long story, don't want to explain here. To the point of this whole story-- I was born with a massive chip on my shoulder that my bio mother got blamed for and my mom had to deal with. It wasn't pretty. My grandmother and my dad became my favorite people and my mother got the short end of the stick. It wasn't fair to her, and really it probably wasn't fair to me, but now let me tell you about my bio mother, Cindy, and help you understand I am very grateful I was adopted.

At twenty-five years old I 'found' my biological mother, Cindy. It took about an hour search, and I had a last name. In the whole state of California there were only five people with that last name, and all of them related to me. The first one I talked to was my biological maternal grandfather who was the most awesome person that I never got to meet in person. He had cancer, and though we had some great conversations in the last four months of his life, he died before I could meet him in person. I am so very grateful for those conversations, they changed the way I viewed life. He knew about me, even though Cindy had never told him about me. He'd tell her 'someone is missing'. She still didn't tell him, and when I called he knew then it was me that was missing. My grandfather then proceeded to tell me all about my family, and for some reason that to this day I have not figured out handed over the spiritual leadership of this family to me. It is still not a task I think I am up to, but he seemed to think it was the thing to do. I was given the privilege of being the last person he spoke to about two weeks before his death. He literally 'woke up' for the few short moments when I called to check on him, and we had a conversation I will never forget. That was a gift from God, and so his 'gift' to me was this leadership thing, and I accept it on that basis, but do not understand it.

Cindy and I never really saw eye to eye. She was eighteen when I was born. By her own statement she had been an alcoholic from the age of eight years old, and she had wished she had aborted me rather than 'letting' me be adopted. She and I never talked about my twin brother. Though we talked a lot about the day my biological grandmother Teady found out she was pregnant. That was in September, I was born in November. She didn't even tell my biological father until July, but I've come to the conclusion that she must have thought around that times she had miscarried because the correspondences stopped fairly abruptly. When my grandmother came to her senses she immediately moved her and my mother back to Southern California (they were in Ohio at the time), and she gave birth six weeks later to me.

She never saw me at my birth nor heard me. She was knocked out and I was rushed from the room. Teady had arranged for me to be adopted against my mother's will. Three weeks later Cindy signed the papers. But it wasn't until I was two months old that I went to live with my parents and they only received two days notice before receiving me. The social worker told Cindy they already had a nice couple waiting to raise me. Best I can guess either that was a lie, or more likely that adoption fell through, I am not sure.

Cindy was going to name me Catherine Elizabeth. That was the name my parents gave me. My mom says when they chose my name the social worker went a little white and pasty and stumbled in her speech.

Cindy never recovered from my adoption. She spent the rest of her life as an alcoholic despite the fact she had a degree in biology and natural health, and was a 'health fanatic'. She was an organic gardener before it even had a name. She knew herbs, and kept herself alive for more than thirty years with Hep C and it was only the last three to four years that her life was extremely bad.

She basically destroyed my two younger siblings lives, and my youngest sister, if it hadn't been for her father, would have been in the same boat. My two middle sibs were raised in and out of foster care, abused, neglected, hurt, and ultimately my sister ended up being an addict. There are stories that I cannot repeat for the shear terror that they bring to me just hearing them. My sister who was an addict in particular went through complete hell of a kind that I think the real thing may have been better. I've had nightmares about the things my sister has been through.

Anyway Cindy's mothering skills lacked. She couldn't take care of herself and could not care for her kids either-- I really was blessed to be raised in another family. I still wonder if it was my adoption that made it so bad. What I do know is that it was my adoption that caused her to refuse to relinquish her rights with my siblings so they too could be adopted and for that I still feel sorrow. I know it is not my fault, but especially for my sister I feel guilty for not being there to protect her. Still I am alive today because of my mom and dad. I've been able to help my sister. She lived with me for several years, and I've helped her to recover from her addictions, and though she isn't as good as a mom as I'd like to see her be with my niece she is much better than Cindy. I hope when my niece is older she will have a better relationship with her mother than my sister had with Cindy. Being able to make a difference in my sister's life is a gift I've been given by my adoption.

In 1994 I met my mother-in-law for the first time. The thought still brings a smile to my face. She is the most gracious and unassuming person I know. She raised two children, one of whom is my husband, and she did an awesome job. I know I was not the daughter-in-law she expected. When she met me I was the mother of two little girls. She had raised a close to perfect family. I do not say this sarcastically. As far as mothering skills there is no comparison. She is soft spoken, gentle, very wise, and as giving as the day is long. She says she wouldn't have known how to deal with some of the things my husband and I have had to deal with. Personally I think if I had been as good at mothering as she is then maybe we wouldn't have had to deal with them either!

She has from day one been someone I could confide in, and trust with anything. She prays for each of us by name everyday. She can even with the most stubborn person get them to do what they need to be doing in such a way that she never raises her voice and they don't feel pressed upon. She is amazing. I will tell you, though, if I had been raised in my original family I would have never met my husband, and so never known my wonderful mother-in-law. I am grateful because she has accepted me and loved me more than my words here can tell you. About five years ago, I told her 'you are just mom. That's the way it is. You couldn't be more my mom than if I had been born to you.' I would have told her years before then but was afraid of what she would say. Instead she hugged me and had tears in her eyes.

You see adoption is not what most people think. It's not the perfect fix. I was born from a broken woman and I was a broken child. I was not a blank slate, and I did not mold to my family I was raised in. I was a square peg in a round hole if there ever was one. My mom though would never have had the chance to be a mom without me, and I would never have had as good as a life as I have had without her. Unfortunately it was not good for Cindy's life, but maybe still for my sister at least as an adult I can be there. Perhaps if not for adoption I would have been just as destroyed as my sister was. Perhaps Cindy would have still self destructed. I do know I got a mom and a dad out of the deal and a stable life that I would have never had with Cindy even if she got her life together. My life is still disjointed. Cindy died in 2012 still a broken woman. I am still dealing with things that happened back in utero. But hey what can I say? This at least gives you a picture of what adoption can look like. Sometime I'll give you the picture from my granddaughter's adoption-- but she has to be a little older. She's only three now (in a few days), and my daughter gave me the joy of raising her. At least it was a choice she made instead of having it forced upon her by her mother. I guess we've made progress!

This is a long winded Cat out. Keep reading. By now you must feel like “I don't know if I dare!” Hope you will dare!

I am a guest blogger! How exciting is that!

Alright I wrote about the trouble I had with writing my blog that was going to be posted on SincerelyJenni, and then I never gave anyone any kind of follow up.  The post did save.  Yeah!

Then me being the almost ocd person I can sometimes be I changed it about twenty times.  It was definitely the longest piece for a blog that I've ever written.  Soooo--   I tried to find a niche to clip out.  There wasn't a part I was willing to give up!  After that I had to email it to Meg twice. Finally Meg email it to SincerelyJenni, and I got a surprise!  It was a wonderful one too.

Meg called me this morning because I was out of town, and the internet wouldn't work for my computer.  Jenni posted it!  Oh my goodness!  I feel so honored and privileged!  She even gave it a special place!  This is so cool.  I'll warn you I was very long winded, but it is a subject very dear to my heart.  The title is The Beauty of Adoption and it is a guest blog post on http://sincerelyjenni.com/ if you would like to read it.

If you do, thank you!  I'm debating posting another side of adoption-- my own full story of being adopted, but it is even more deeply personal and longer still-- so that's another debate.  If I do it will be posted tonight.

Well this is Cat out.  Happy reading!

Book Tour Schedule for February and March

Just an update for all the wonderful people that have been following this journey of mine.  At this point in a couple weeks I will be showing up at fun places-- you know coffee shops and book stores (some of my favorite places to visit anyhow!) to read a little of The Key to Her Heart, answer questions, and do some book signings.  I am just a little excited-- a little being a MAJOR understatement.  So below is the schedule for the first four weeks.  I'm sure Meg will have more to add and this will also be on my website.  But for now this is the schedule through March.
If you are in the area for any one of these events I'd love to meet you.

February 22-- 10 A.M. to NOON The Coffee Attic with The Book Cellar in Iowa Falls, Iowa
March 1-- 11 A.M. to 1 P.M. Book World in Mason City, Iowa
March 8-- NOON to 2 P.M. Tazza Bi Caffe in Council Bluffs, Iowa
March 22--10 A.M. to NOON Cup of Faith in Albert Lea, Minnesota