Well, I Made It!

Four and a half hours on a Gray Hound bus isn’t the funnest thing I’ve ever done, but it sure isn’t the worst, either. The drivers were very helpful, and I made it to Columbus in one piece. But, I’m glad I’m riding in a car on the way home. One of the first things I did when I got here was take a juno walk. A juno walk is when a trainer holds one end of a harness and the student holds the handle and allows the trainer to lead the student, simulating how it would be if a dog was leading the person who is blind. My trainer and I walked around outside, going across streets, down sidewalks and around trees and broken concrete. Trainers do a juno walk in order to determine what type of dog is best for the person. Just as people walk differently, dogs walk and lead different. When we finished with that, I got settled in my room. I unpacked my suit case and put things away. I have a room mate, so we chatted a bit, as well. I called home to make sure my girls were all right. They were, and I felt even better. We had dinner at 5 and a lecture after that. Between dinner and the lecture, my trainer showed me around the facility. After the lecture, I called home again. The babies were missing me, and I think the hubby was, too. :) I sang to them, blew kisses over the phone and told them just how much I love them. But, the call was shorter than I wanted it to be. Around 8:30 or 9 my trainer asked me to go to my room and wait. I waited, but I was so nervous I couldn’t hardly sit still. Several minutes later, here he came with a new dog. She is a black Engllish lab, and she is a sweetie. She wasn’t too interested in me at first, but after she had time to sniff the entire room and check out the place, she came right to me. I guess she wanted to secure the place before she said hello. :) We stayed in the room alone for a little while, getting to know each other, and then I gave her a bath. The trainer helped me, and I was glad for the help. It had been six years, after all since I had a dog. I didn’t get too wet, though, and she got clean, so I reckon it was a win win situation. I didn’t get to bed until 11:30 that evening, and when I did lay down I spent some time chatting with my roomy before I slept. But, being me, I only slept until 4. I waited to get up at 5, got my shower and took my pup out to pee. All in all, my first day and first night here went very well. Yesterday was spent walking with my new dog outside and listening to more instruction. There was some down time, but I really enjoyed talking with the other students. I like learning about others and where they came from. Their stories are always interesting, and sometimes learning about others’ difficulties, helps me remember just how blessed I am. I slept better last night, and today looks like another good day. I’m missing my husband and girls, but i know they are fine. They will be going to our church’s home coming service today, and I wish my pup and I were there to go with them. But, in another way, I’m glad my girl and I have time to bond before the craziness of home. My pup doesn’t know me very well, yet, and I don’t know her. The more time we spend together, the more we will learn each other. I think it’s a good match. Y’all know i went to another school to get my first dog. Well, this school is different, but I like the smallness of the class. I like the home-like atmosphere of the place. No one’s in a hurry, no one expects me to go beyond what I can do, and yet I am still being challenged. I’d like some coffee before breakfast, so I’d better hurry and finish this. I don’t know how often I will blog, but I will as often as possible. So, until next time, keep on keeping on.

Six Days and Counting

Saturdays are usually lazy days for the man of the house. As for me, most of the time on Saturdays you can find me at the kitchen sink with my hands deep in hot, sudsy water, loading and unloading the washing machine or putting away clean laundry. But, somehow I managed to get the laundry done before this Saturday, and there are not enough dishes for me to wash...yet. lol It’s nearly time for dinner, so fear not; I’ll have a sink full to wash before bedtime. This first day of the weekend has been a bit different. First of all, unless you missed the title, it is the sixth day before I leave for Pilot Dogs in Columbus Ohio to get my new guide dog. I’ve been awake since three AM thinking about dogs. What breedd of dog will I get? A stately German Shepherd named Phoebe? A little black lab named Izzy? A laid-back golden retriever named Porter? A happy yellow lab named Daisy? No way of knowing. :) Will I get him or her on Friday evening, or will I have to wait until the next day? Here are a few things I do know for sure. It will be a dog. lol 2. He or she will know how to guide a blind person. 3. Pilot Dogs, from what I’ve been told, crate their dogs at night, so my dog will be used to this. 4. The dog will already have a name before I get there. 5. The dog, no matter how much he or she loves me will take a few days to get used to the fact that I am his or her new person and not the trainer. 6. This dog will have me figured out in a matter of minutes; I will not be able to fool him or her about anything. 7. Whereas The Seeing Eye breeds all their dogs, Pilot does not. They receive most of their dogs from other breeders. Looks like I know a lot, doesn’t it? hahaha! Well, to even things out, here’s some things I do not know. As I have said before, I don’t know what breed or gender my dog is. 2. I do not know what Pilot’s facility looks like, but I do know I can navigate it, dog or not because I have been taught Orientation and Mobility. 3. I don’t know any of the staff personally, but so far from the conversations we have had over the phone, I feel confident that they are ready to help make this experience the best it can be. 4. I don’t know whether I’ll get my dog the Friday evening I arrive or the next morning. 5. I don’t know what taking the Grayhound bus to Columbus is like. 6. I don’t know whether I will crate my dog once I get home or not. Depends on whether I feel it is necessary and depends on if I have the money to buy a crate. 7. Finally, I don’t know how different this new dog will be, but I know he or she will not be like my first one. These are just a few of the things running through my head today. I googled dog crates, and unless I get me some dough, soon, I won’t be crating. But, then again, I might change my mind. Since I don’t know what kind of dog is waiting for me up there, I googled a few of the breeds that Pilot trains. In case you are interested, Animal Planet does a series on different breeds, and you can find them on YouTube. I learned a lot, actually. The breeds I researched were as follows: golden retriever, german shepherd, labrador, and standard poodle. I already told the folks up there I did not want a boxer or a doberman, so I did not research those breeds. I’m actually hoping I don’t get a poodle, simply because of their high maintenance, but if the trainer says a standard poodle is perfect for me, I’ll give that dog a chance. One thing I do want to say about Pilot Dogs. I do like the fact, I can apply online. I get so tired of asking a sighted person to fill out printed forms, so it was nice, for a change to just do it myself. After filling out the online form, Pilot did send some print papers. One I needed to sign to prove what I put on the internet was true. The others were for doctors to fill out, and I’m sure glad they were sighted and able to fill them out. lol But, I’ve yapped the entire time about my new dog and Pilot. Never did tell y’all why this day was different. :) So, this morning my girls and I went to the park here in town. My 7-year-old can’t seem to figure out how to swing. hahaha, so I took some time teaching her...again. lol We had fun. A little, black and white dog came to visit us while we were there. He never barked or even came near enough to touch. He just sat near my 4-year-old while she was on the swings. He yawned and scratched an itch, my daughter said, and when we left, he followed us. Sometimes, he walked in front of my girls who were in front of me, which meant my girls got caned accidentally, but we finally got things smoothed out. The dog didn’t try to follow us in the Post Office, which would have been funny. Instead, he waited and followed us almost all the way home. He left us at our back gate. :) We came in and opened our packages that we got in the mail, and then ate some lunch. Knowing I needed to take some soap and lotion to Pilot, I decided a few days ago to order some stuff from Clean Logic. You can google that, too, if you like. They put braille on their bottles, so folks who are blind will know which bottle is which. Nothing like getting your body wash mixed up with your lotion. lol My Clean Logic came in today’s mail, and so far I’m well pleased with it. Don’t have to ask a sighted person what is what, and that’s the best part. One more thing on my mind today. I am almost finished with the sweater I am crocheting for myself. It’s a fall or springtime sweater, made of yarn that is part cotton and part bamboo from rayon...or is that rayon from bamboo? Ha! I don’t know. Anyway, it’s wonderfully soft, lightweight, yet heavy enough to keep me warm. I made it a little dressy, but not fancy. I think it will look good with my jeans, and I plan to take it to Pilot. Now, all I need is some prayer warriors to believe with me that I’ll get a dog that does NOT like to chew on cotton things. lol Well, reckon that’s all that is on my mind this sixth day before I leave. Y’all keep praying for us and keep reading. You faithful readers keep my spirits up more often than you know. God bless.

Seven days until...

T minus seven days, and my heart is already breaking. I never dreamed I would feel this guilty. The other day when I told my seven-year-old I would leave in ten days, she wrapped her arms around me and sobbed, “I don’t want you to go!” Right then I was ready to call the whole thing off. How could I leave my babies? I tried explaining to my girls that even though this is a hard thing for all of us, we have to be brave and trust that God has a plan. Of course, that’s easier said than done, especially when you are only seven. What my children do not know is what having a guide dog will mean to their mom. What my girls do not understand is that me being gone for ten days is nothing compared to what other kids go through all the time. A friend of mine won’t see her children for seven months. Reading that on face book really got to me. I mean, seven months! I can’t even imagine it! But, God has a job for everyone, and we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. But, I digress. Most of y’all probably think I’m making a bigger deal out of it all than necessary. After all, parents leave their kids all the time. Well, not this parent. Quite possibly I could count on both hands the amount of nights I have spent away from my girls. They have spent a few nights with their aunts and grandparents over Christmases, and I had to go in the hospital a couple of times last year. My four-year-old still remembers fearing her mommy would never come home. Y’all, that tears me up! There is a reason for all this madness, though. If there wasn’t, I would not even dream of putting my family through such a trying time. Somewhere, deep in my heart I believe that having a guide dog will be of more help to me in the long run than anything else so far. My husband has enough to do without needing to worry about me, and I’m tired of feeling as if I’m being treated like one of the kids. Maybe, I dream too big, but I’m thinking of shopping trips with just my girls, me and my new dog. Also, once we’re settled back home, I’m thinking that having an animal in the house will help my girls learn not only to care for a dog but how to play with one as well. I’m thinking that a guide dog, as happened with me and my first guide will help us come out of our shells and meet more people. I’m thinking that dog will learn to love my girls and keep an eye out for them when I can’t. So, my suitcase is sitting in the living room waiting to be filled. Yesterday I cleaned out a corner in my bed room for the new dog to sleep in. I went through some old shoes and found an extra pair to take with me. I went through my clothes and have already decided on what to pack. I’m almost ready...almost. Last night my husband said, “You won’t be here for my birthday.” He didn’t sound whiny or anything, but again I felt guilty. The longest he and i have ever been apart was when he went to Disney World for business back in 2004. He was gone three or four days. I’m going to miss him, and he’s going to have a rougher time without someone seeing to all the little things. Hoping to ease everyone’s stress, this girl plans to do up as much laundry as possible. lol Can I tell y’all about one more thing I’m feeling guilty about? No objections? Good. :) Even though I will miss my family, I have to admit that I’m looking forward to taking care of only me for a few days. Sometimes, the day-to-day stuff, laundry, dishes, homeschool, worry about dinner, settling disputes between fighting kids can ware one down until she starts thinking she is only needed for these things and nothing else. I know I’m loved; I know I’m needed, but is what I do appreciated? And, more importantly why am I even wanting to be appreciated when I’m supposed to be a living sacrifice? If I’m doing it all for the glory of God, why does it matter if anyone else appreciates what I do? I’ll admit there’s a little voice inside me that sneaks up and says, “Let them see if they can manage all this without me.” Maybe, I shouldn’t post this, after all. I’m not being very nice, and I’m not real sorry, yet. I asked on face book if anyone wanted to read a blog about my experiences during class at the guide dog school. Many of you said you would. So, now you know what I’m feeling just a week before I take that bus North to Columbus. It’s a little different than when I went to get my first dog. If you want to read that story, check out the previous post called, “A Miracle Named George”. Until next time, pray for us; we could use it.

A Miracle Named George

To understand the story you are about to read, you will first need to understand three important things about me: I have issues with trust, for the first nineteen years of my life I was terrified of dogs, and until that July day I knew very little about unconditional love. It was a Monday, July 20, 1998 to be exact, and it was around one o’clock p.m. I was standing in the doorway to my room at The Seeing Eye in Morristown New Jersey, anxiously waiting to hear my instructor call my name. All sorts of questions were running through my mind, and in the forefront was the fear that I was making an awful mistake. One by one other names were called. Each time a name was called, a few seconds would go by and then I would hear the person and her dog walk quietly past my door. I wanted to bite my nails. I probably cracked my nuckles a time or two. I shifted from one foot to the other and sighed enough for thirty people. Finally, shocking me out of my own thoughts I heard my instructor’s voice. “Shannon?” I don’t remember responding, but in seconds I was seated in a chair in the lounge, my instructor standing beside me. “Shannon,” she said, “ this is George.” At her words, two huge paws touched my knees. “Down, George,” my instructor said, and the dog obeyed immediately. But, all I could think of was, “His name is George?” George, though, didn’t give me time to think on his name. We were taken back to my room where the door was closed, leaving us alone. I petted him, he put his paw up to shake hands, and he sat so pretty, as if to say, “I’m a good boy. I promise.” After several minutes, George got bored, I think, and went to the door, pressing his nose against the tiny space between the portal and the frame. He sniffed it, then licked it and then whined. I could almost hear him crying out for the lady who had trained him. I sat down in the chair in the corner of the room and dropped my hands in to my lap, feeling at a complete loss. “Okay, God, you got me here. Now, what am I supposed to do?” Some time later, my instructor, who, oddly enough was also named Shannon, took George and me on a walk outside. George wore the harness and leash, as well as a second leash that my instructor held in her competent grip. It felt like I stumbled around that path instead of walked, and I kept stepping on poor george’s feet, but he never stopped and neither did I. Still, I was worried. If this stumbling around was what I could expect, maybe this guide dog thing wasn’t for me. From the beginning we were taught to feed, water and care for our dogs without any sighted assistance. We were also taught how to use a plastic baggie in order to pick up after our dogs when they left their droppings at our feet. Cleaning ears, brushing teeth, grooming, feeding, watering, and giving our pups pills were all things we had to know how to do well before we left the school. Sometimes, it was easy, and sometimes it was not, but always there was a positive atmosphere. The day that stands out in my memory took place on Tuesday, July 21. I can’t remember if it was morning or afternoon, but I do remember it was a bright, sunny day. I also remember my confidence was sorely lacking. I was still wondering if maybe God had brought me up here for nothing more than to show me how crazy getting a dog would be. Our instructions were simple. Take up the handle of your dogs’ harness and walk down the sidewalk before us. The instructor would be right behind our right shoulder, watching our every step. No need to worry. Looking back, I can’t remember if we were told anything about the sidewalk or not, but I don’t think so. I stood there at the corner and took a deep breath. Quite literally, my instructor was asking me to put my life in to the hands...ahem, paws of a dog. Could I do it? Was God calling me to do it? I hooked George’s leash around my wrist, lifted the leather handle and took another bracing breath. Here goes nothing, Lord. “George, forward.” Suddenly, where there was calm and quiet, there now was this seventy-eight pound dog pulling me down an unfamiliar sidewalk. Several times I cracked my toes on parts of the sidewalk that jutted up from the ground. “Toes up, Shannon!” came the voice of my instructor. “Oh, Lord,” I whispered, frantically, “what on eartha m I doing?” Swirving around trees and overhangs of leaves and branches, George and I flew down that sidewalk of slate. I had never walked that fast in my whole life. It kind of felt like a roller coaster ride that your friends have talked you in to trying. You are barreling along, and your feelings are ranging between terror and amazement and a thrilling joy. And then... Then, without warning, george stopped, and for a moment I just stood there in awe. I heard the traffic in front of me and my instructor’s words, “You did it!” I had done it! i had walked down an unfamiliar sidewalk at a pace that most sighted folks would later call running, and I was still alive to tell the tale. I had... Wait! I was forgetting something...someone. Right then and there, I knelt down on that hot, slate covered sidewalk and hugged that big, Labrador/Golden Retriever mix. I, who had never hugged a dog in my life, threw every reservation aside and wrapped my arms around him. “We did it, George! You did it! Oh, thank you God!” For the next eight years of my life, I was covered in blondish dog hair. For the next eight years of my life, I did not feel like a blind person. George and I went to school, went to work, walked in ten degree weather, walked in four inches of snow, walked in rain and mud, went to grocery stores, went to concerts, went to restaurants, visited elementary schools, took a plane to visit a friend in Savannah Georgia, slept side by side in the floor to the sounds of an audio book or two, shared pizza after attending a week of church camp, and spent many happy hours just enjoying one another’s company. Many was the time George lead me up a church’s isle to the piano where he lay quietly while I played and sang. Looking back, I know there were things I could have done different. I know all my decisions back then were not always the best ones, but George never stopped loving me, and I never stopped loving him. Some said that having a guide dog wasn’t worth the clean up, but those are the ones who never knew how much we meant to each other. Today, some say I shouldn’t get another dog, but, again, those are the ones who are not yet aware of the bond between a guide dog and a blind person. Sadly, I had to retire George in August of 2006. He past away in February of 2007. I was not there for his last moments on earth, but the George that I remember was happy and healthy, not dead or dying. George, who liked to rub his body against your legs like a cat, lives on in my memory. And, it is because he taught me how to give up my own control and trust, I am ready to move on. Out there somewhere is a new dog just waiting for a blind person who needs him or her. I have applied to a new guide dog school, and once again I find myself feeling a tendency to fear the unknown. Will I be able to trust God again with a new dog? Because, see, it’s not the dog or myself I need to remember to trust - it’s God in whom I am placing my trust. “So, God,” I pray, “get me ready to take that first walk, again and remember I’m scared. Prepare a gentle soul, like George was, but, Lord, help me not to compare this new dog with my first one. Give me confidence, Lord, because no matter how broken up the sidewalk, no matter how many obstacles lay in my way, I can do it, with you and my new furry friend in the lead.”

The Blind Housewife: On Cleaning, Laundry and Occupying Children

There was something gross on the bottom of my bath tub. I don't know what it was, but I was bound and determined to get rid of it. I sprayed the tub with Clorox Clean Up, let it set for a few minutes and took a wet washcloth and wiped it up. Um...yeah, well, that didn't work. So, I put some Soft Scrub with bleach on it. I rubbed it in, waited a few minutes and wiped again. Still no change. I went looking for a scrub brush, but aliens must have sneaked in and stolen it, because I couldn't find one anywhere. Then, I remembered that scrubby thing that I had scrubbed my pizza pans with. It needed thrown away, anyhow; I'd just use it. Y'all know what I'm talking about. Right? Not the soap pad thingies. No, the thing that feels like a net...sort of? Anyway, I put more Soft Scrub on the crud and went to scrubbing. I scrubbed and scrubbed. I scrubbed with the right hand, and then I scrubbed with the left. I had music playing on the iPod feature on my iPhone, and on my knees by the tub I scrubbed and scrubbed. After several minutes, I started to notice a difference. The scrubbing was working, but it was sure taking some muscle.

About halfway finished, I suddenly wondered what it would be like if God had to scrub like I was scrubbing in order to clean the sin out of us. Hmm. A thought. No? I reckon sometimes, God allows us to be scrubbed, but when it comes to asking Him for forgiveness from sin, He just takes it away, no scrubbing required. With one word, He can wipe the slate clean. He does this, too, when we come to Him with a repentant heart and a contrite spirit. Aren't you glad? I know I am! As for the tub scrubbing, I think I got it all cleaned up. :)

So, how did I keep the girls from bugging me while I attended to the bath tub? Easy. They love playing with those little ducks and things. Well, I told them to clean the ducks and mermaids while I cleaned the tub. I had just finished washing a few dishes, so the dish water was still warm and sudsy. I gave them the tub toys, a chair and a couple of rags and told them to clean them up. They did, and when they were done, the 6-year-old took a towel and wiped up the water on the counter. How cool was that?

I think today breaks a record. I told the girls they could have an ice cream cone after we put all the clean laundry away. I never knew a basket of clothes could get put away so quickly. lol But, my 6-year-old stepped in and helped me put the clothes away, and it was finished in less than 5 minutes. No kidding. :)

Now that my cleaning spree is over for now, I sure could use some good lotion. My hands are itching and dry. I also need someone with a knowledge of pinning up pant legs straight. Haha, my jeans are too long. I had to roll them up a bit. Looks silly, probably, but at least I'm clothed and in my right mind. ;)

It's rather cool and rainy, making me want to fix another cup of coffee. That stuff sure does go fast when a person likes it. :)

Ok, so since you sighted folks are wondering how I managed today, the tub scrubbing was all by feel. I should have used gloves, what with all that bleach and such, but if I had worn them, I wouldn't have been able to feel whether the tub was clean or not. If I can't feel it, then I can't do it independently. So, get over being messy, and get your hands in there...if you're blind,that is. Ha! As for dishes, it's the same; I know they are clean by the way they feel. As for the washer and drier, I memorize which buttons are what and too bad for me if I forget. Wait, that's not true; the 6-year-old has learned to read and helps when I ask. As for matching clothes, my children help me with their's. I know mine by the way they feel. Using my sense of touch, I know when I have grabbed a pair of my pants and when it's the hubby's I'm holding. :) He's shaped different than I am, ye know. Now, as for buying ice cream from the Schwan's man, well, I used my sense of touch to know which credit card I grabbed, my sense of touch, again, to know what foods I was putting away, and when it came to enjoying that ice cream, I used my sense of taste. lol I had my first grader to read package directions for one of the items i bought, and memorized them so I won't have to ask again.

Did y'all git all that? Ha! Well, if you didn't, feel free to drop me a comment and ask away. Until then, my sense of tired tells me it's time to git off here, so I'll catch y'all next time.

How Do You Do It?

Yesterday evening, my dentist asked, "So, how do you cook...the big stuff, I mean? How do you do it?"

A few days ago, a new friend asked, "So, what is it like being a parent who is blind?"

I started thinking about these questions and realized that many people are just too shy to ask them. Yet, they really want to know. They don't want to know what some people do; they don't want to know what studies show. They want to know what I do, because once they know that, they can modify to fit their own needs and wants. It's like cooking. Give me the recipe. Then, I can modify it to meet my needs and skill level. Of course, some folks never stray from the recipe, but that's their own fault and a subject for another post.

I could tell you cooking without sight is hard, fun, exciting, scary, and anything in between, but it doesn't answer your question. I could say being a mother who is blind is wonderful, terrible, exciting, scary, mind boggling and joyful all wrapped up in to one, but, again, that does not answer your questions. So, I am thinking of starting a series or two here on the blog to address how I manage things. I don't know what order the articles will be in, but I think I'll separate the two main questions folks have in to two series: one for cooking and the other for parenting.

If you have specific questions, feel free to comment either on here or on Facebook and ask them. If you want to email me privately, the email addy is
ShannonNicoleWells@suddenlink.net

I'll try to address one issue a week for both subjects. Just y'all keep in mind, what I do works for me and might not work for you.

How do I drain a pot of boiling macaroni without scalding myself?
How do I fry hamburger without setting the house on fire?
How do I know when my bread/cookies are done?
How do I change a dirty diaper without wearing the mess?
How did I nurse my babies?
Which was easier, breast feeding or bottle feeding?
How did i know if my babies were sick?
How did I administer meds when they needed them?
How did I bathe my babies?
How did I manage to keep the babies clothes all matched up?
How did I feed the babies baby food?
Do I always know what my children are in to? Do you? Haha!

I'll be the first to admit, some of these questions do not have an answer. I am not perfect, and neither am I an expert. But, I'll do my best to answer these questions and more.

If you are a new parent who is blind or thinking of starting a family, then, honestly, my best advice is trust in God. Take time to put Him in the center of it all. Because, y'all, sometimes the answer is God. I'm not kidding, and I'm not being flippant. Sometimes, there is no rhyme or reason why something is a certain way, and only thing I know is God did it or God told me so.

The Bible says that faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. It also says that the things we see are temporal, and the things which are not seen are eternal. So, embrace the fact you can't see it, and let God be your pilot.

Hope to hear from y'all soon!

Monday's Musings: Independence

Wow! What can top that last post? I went back and read Friday's post this morning, and only thing I can say, is "Wow!" lol Where did that come from? Oh, yeah, the Lord. :) Had to have come from Him; nothing good in me, that's for sure. So, the question still remains, how do I top Friday's post? Hmm. Don't think I can. But, it's Monday and time for another post on another topic, so here we go.

I read an email this morning. The person said she wanted full independence. She wants to learn to cut her own food without getting messy. She was asking for suggestions, one because the sighted folks she eats with do not like watching her touch her food, and two, because she wants to be independent. I'll admit, I was not as diplomatic as I should have been. My feeling on the subject of messiness is so what. But, back when I was younger...ahem, 20-years-old or so, I was the same way. I wouldn't eat pancakes unless I had someone to cut them up for me. I wouldn't eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because they were too messy to make. Then, one day I wanted a pancake and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and no one was around to fix them for me. It was either fix it myself or go without, and I was tired of going without. So, I got messy and made them. Awful glad I practiced, because my daughters' favorite foods are pancakes with syrup and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. As for total independence, that, I wanted to tell the woman, could never be achieved.

To be independent, means you can do something totally on your own; you don't need any assistance. Let's see, how many men out there depend on their wives to wash their clothes? If the wife didn't wash his clothes, he wouldn't know what to do. So, is that man totally independent? Nope. What about the owner of a company, can he or she produce that product independently? No way. That's why people have jobs. Can a person run for president without any help? Nope. Can a deaf person chat on the phone without assistance? Nope. Can a blind person see what is going on in a movie without assistance? Nope. Can someone who is paralyzed walk up that flight of stairs unassisted? I don't think so. Can one person haul their piano in to the moving truck without assistance? No. You see what I'm saying? Deed, reckon that should be asked another way. Do you hear what I'm saying? lol

Just to clarify, I believe that a person with a disability should work to be as independent as possible. In saying that, I mean a person should be able to utilize what resources he or she has in order to live as best they can. If you are losing your sight, admit it to yourself and get some training on how to care for yourself. If you are unable to walk for whatever reason, admit it to yourself and stop being so embarrassed about using walking aids or wheelchairs out in public. So what if people stare. at least you aren't running around naked. If you need a caregiver to go places with you in order to do your shopping, admit it and get out there and shop. Independent living means you know how to use what you have in order to live as you see fit. Note: I am not talking about spiritual matters; I'm talking about physical ones. That spiritual chat will happen some other day.

Ok, I'm climbing down from my soap box, now. lol I do want to say something else before I'm finished blogging for the day.

I have something to admit. All of this depending on someone scares me to death. I try not to think about it, but in my weaker moments it consumes me. Here's what runs through my head.

What if something happens to my husband? What if, someday I can't depend on him to drive us to church. I'd have to find a church that I can walk to and like it. I'd have to move to where I can get a cab or walk to a grocery store or go hungry. I know I need to use what I have and make the best of my current situation, but if my husband was seriously injured or died, I'd be stuck, and I do mean stuck. That scares me. Oh, it's ok that Shannon lives in a rural town with no public transportation, because she doesn't need it, but what if I did?

Letting these fears get the best of me won't accomplish a thing, so I don't let them get the best of me. God, in His infinite wisdom will provide for me and my family. I know this, and I trust Him.

Even so, I miss being able to get up and go whenever I wanted to. Yeah, sure, having kids would have made it hard to do that, no matter where I live, but it would have been nice to walk to the store to get a loaf of bread, rather than depend on my husband all the time. Yeah sure, I would have had to save gas money, if I could see and wanted to take the car somewhere, but at least I could have taken it.

And, before I fall in to a major pity party, I'm done with all that.

"Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." Proverbs 3:5-6 KJV

Y'all have a marvelous Monday, and be sure to come back on Wednesday, when I'll write about writing. :)

When I Grow Up, I want...

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Adults ask children this question all the time. I don't know if it's just that they have no idea what to talk to the kid about, or if they really want to know, but it is a common question. Grown-ups asked me that, when I was a young'un, too.

I remember answering like any other kid. I want to be a doctor, a nurse, a lawyer, an astronaut, a writer, a teacher. The great thing about children, is they don't think about the money they will make or what type of schooling it will take to achieve that goal. They just want to be it, whatever "it" is.

When I was about 6, 7 or 8 years old, I remember wanting to grow up to be just like my mom. Funny thing, is I see that same tendency in my own 6 year old. She mimics me, patterns her style of doing things after me, and I find myself wondering if she wants to be like me when she grows up. Fshew, that's a scary thought. lol Faith and I procrastinate together, but when we finally get up and do what we're supposed to do, we often start singing together. I'll be washing dishes, while she is picking up her toys, and I'll start a song. Before too long, she's singing right along with me, and soon our chores are done. But, I digress. :)

I don't think I thought seriously about what I wanted to be when I grew up until I was around 15 or so. I thought about it a lot, but there just didn't seem to be much choice. On the one hand, folks would say I could be anything I wanted to be. On the other hand, folks would say I had to be realistic. Having dreams was one thing, but at some point I had to come down to earth and think about what I truly wanted. There were jobs that blind people just didn't do, not because they were not smart enough but because it took sight to do those jobs. I was not, I was informed, ever going to be able to be an astronaut, a doctor, a nurse, a school bus driver, and I might as well get over it while I was still young. In my mind, that left only teaching.

After graduating high school, I did go to college, intending to be a teacher for the visually impaired, but both times i started school, I quit. Then, I got married, and for a time, being a house wife was enough. I went to a local vocational school for a year and received a certificate of completion for medical transcription, but no matter how hard I tried, I never got a job doing that. I did work for a time in Romney WV, preparing braille documents for mailing. After that, I worked at Blind Industries and Services of Maryland as a sewing machine operator. Then, I went to the school of hard knocks and learned what a selfish woman I really was. Or, put more plainly, I got pregnant and became a mom. lol

Now, with my 33rd birthday fast approaching, I have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up. :) I want to graduate from medical school, so that I can have the know-how to diagnose my families' illnesses and do something about them. I want to go get my driver's license, so that I can give disabled folks a ride where ever they want to go. Finally, just for grins and giggles, I want to be an airplane pilot.

A couple of days ago, I took my 3 year old to the doctor. I KNEW she was sick. For a couple of nights she had had a fever. She was coughing, some and sneezing, occasionally. I didn't know for sure, but I thought it was probably an ear infection. For one, her breath smelled funny, and when my girls' breath smells like that, they need an antibiotic. Just for the record, I've only been wrong once. :) Sure enough, the doctor looked in to her ears and both were infected. She's on an antibiotic. So, am I a doctor, sort of? Maybe. What about a teacher? I only have 2 students, but I'm teaching all the time. Faith is learning about word problems by counting how many bananas we have and then figuring out how many loaves of banana bread I could make with them. lol She's learning to read, and that comes in handy when I need labels on canned foods read to me. So, am I a teacher? Why, yes I am.

As for the astronaut, lawyer and pilot, well, those will have to wait a while. lol My mom always said I'd make a good lawyer, because I like to argue. Ha! While at Space Camp in Huntsville Alabama, I learned that even if I could see, I'm too short to go in to space. As for flying, anybody out there game for taking me up in their plane?

Just for the record, people who are blind can do anything they set their mind to, even if that job requires sight. Where there's a will, there's a way. A few years ago, I read about a man who is blind graduating from medical school and earning his MD. Last year I read about a woman who is blind being a beautician. Several months ago, a man who is blind took his family for a drive around Daytona Speedway. He used technology created by the folks from the National Federation of the Blind and students from Virginia Tech, and drove around the track. They threw boxes in his way, someone even pulled out in front of him, and he and his family still live to tell the tale. I know a man who is blind, and he rides a bicycle without any sighted assistance. I have a friend who is blind, and she makes baskets and sews quilts. I have a friend on FaceBook who is blind, and she writes her impressions of WV ball games, and gets paid doing it.

Here's a couple of things I've been pondering on. First of all, have I grown up to be what I wanted to be? Yes, I have. I'm an author, a singer, a song writer, a piano player, a wife, a mom, a crocheter, a baker, but more important, I am a Christian. Except for the writing and piano, I have grown up to be what I thought my mother was at that time. Second, have I achieved all that I wanted to achieve? No, I have not. Remember that plane? I wonder if it will be as I imagine, now that I have no sight at all. I used to want to feel it lift in to the air and be able to look out and see the sky. Of course, I can't see the sky, but will it be as thrilling, anyway? Guess there's only one way to find out. :)