Sliding fun!!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
JUSTICE! HAHAHAHA
STELLA AWARDS:
It's time again for the annual 'Stella Awards'! For those unfamiliar with these awards, they are named after 81-year-old Stella Liebeck who spilled hot coffee on herself and successfully sued the McDonald's in New Mexico , where she purchased coffee. You r emember, she took the lid off the coffee and put it between her knees while she was driving. Who would ever think one could get burned doing that, right? That's right; these are awards for the most outlandish lawsuits and verdicts in the U.S. You know, the kinds of cases that make you scratch your head. So keep your head scratcher handy.
Here are the Stellas for this past year -- 2010 :
*SEVENTH PLACE*
Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas was awarded $80,000 by a jury of her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The store owners were understandably surprised by the verdict, considering the running toddler was her own son
Start scratching!
* SIXTH PLACE *
Carl Truman, 19, of Los Angeles , California won $74,000 plus medical expenses when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Truman apparently didn't notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal his neighbor's hubcaps.
Scratch some more...
* FIFTH PLACE *
Terrence Dickson, of Bristol , Pennsylvania , who was leaving a house he had just burglarized by way of the garage. Unfortunately for Dickson, the automatic garage door opener malfunctioned and he could not get the garage door to open. Worse, he couldn't re-enter the house because the door connecting the garage to the house locked when Dickson pulled it shut. Forced to sit for eight, count 'em, EIGHT days and survive on a case of Pepsi and a large bag of dry dog food, he sued the homeowner's insurance company claiming undue mental Anguish. Amazingly, the jury said the insurance company must pay Dickson $500,000 for his anguish. We should all have this kind of anguish Keep scratching. There are more...
Double hand scratching after this one.
*FOURTH PLACE*
Jerry Williams, of Little Rock, Arkansas, garnered 4th Place in the Stella's when he was awarded $14,500 plus medical expenses after being bitten on the butt by his next door neighbor's beagle - even though the beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. Williams did not get as much as he asked for because the jury believed the beagle might have been provoked at the time of the butt bite because Williams had climbed over the fence into the yard and repeatedly shot the dog with a pellet gun.
Pick a new spot to scratch, you're getting a bald spot..
* THIRD PLACE *
Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania because a jury ordered a Philadelphia restaurant to pay her $113,500 after she slipped on a spilled soft drink and broke her tailbone. The reason the soft drink was on the floor: Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier during an argument. What ever happened to people being responsible for their own actions?
Only two more so ease up on the scratching...
*SECOND PLA CE*
Kara Walton, of Claymont , Delaware sued the owner of a night club in a nearby city because she fell from the bathroom window to the floor, knocking out her two front teeth. Even though Ms. Walton was trying to sneak through the ladies room window to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge, the jury said the night club had to pay her $12,000....oh, yeah, plus dental expenses. Go figure.
Ok. Here we go!!
* FIRST PLACE *
This year's runaway First Place Stella Award winner was: Mrs. Merv Grazinski, of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, who purchased new 32-foot Winnebago motor home. On her first trip home, from an OU football game, having driven on to the freeway, she set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the driver's seat to go to the back of the Winnebago to make herself a sandwich. Not surprisingly, the motor home left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Also not surprisingly, Mrs. Grazinski sued Winnebago for not putting in the owner's manual that she couldn't actually leave the driver's seat while the cruise control was set. The Oklahoma jury awarded her, are you sitting down?
$1,750,000 PLUS a new motor home. Winnebago actually changed their manuals as a r esult of this suit, just in case Mrs. Grazinski has any relatives who might also buy a motor home.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
My MODELS
The girls were featured on the COVER of TWINS Magazine! They were so excited. I was just thinking today, the funnies part is that we were off to the beach and I had gotten SO much ready (it takes awhile getting everything prepared for a family of 6) and I forgot everyone's suits! So, I ran into Walmart and bought suits for the girls...and when we were on our way, realized I didn't have a suit either! Here's the link for the mag!
http://www.epaperflip.com/aglaia/viewer.aspx?docid=9e1020c27ea04b4bb6dac61f416fc908&page=0
http://www.epaperflip.com/aglaia/viewer.aspx?docid=9e1020c27ea04b4bb6dac61f416fc908&page=0
FUN DAY
We had a fun and busy day...all documented on FB of course!!
We started out having Day at the Lake with our church's adoption group, Family Hope. It was a lot of fun even though the water was too shallow to actually get the boat in the water.
Then we went to Noah's Ark...a pool/splash pad with our twins group. Tons of fun!!
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2277939028347.2140446.1244891443&l=e0044d4d0e Day at Lake
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2278353518709.2140472.1244891443&l=84929ce537 Noah's Ark
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Excerpt from Chicken Soup for the ADOPTED Soul
Origami Crane
Finding the greater truth in my adoption
June 01,2011 / Kimberly Hee Stock
I was angry in Korea . I had been angry all of my life because I was an odd construction of a person: a Korean-looking girl on the outside, a Caucasian-sounding girl on the inside. I didn't know who I was, and I was having a hard time accepting the parts I did know about myself. My background read like that of a hundred thousand other Korean adoptees: I was abandoned as a young child and found in a "police box." Doctors estimated my age like I was a stray dog at an animal shelter. I was given a new generic and a new generic birthday. I wasn't always accepted as a "White Girl" in my little Midwestern town because of how I looked, and for the past few weeks in Korea , I realized that I was having a hard time being accepted as a Korean girl because I couldn't properly speak the language.
"How much longer?" I whispered to my fellow traveler. "I'm starting to feel sick." I was on a bus with around twenty other Korean adoptees on what was called a "motherland tour" of Korea . The idea of the trip was for us to get in touch with the land that had given
us birthand also rejected us.
The bus shuddered, having to carry us up yet another winding and dangerously narrow road somewhere in Seoul . We were not given the secret location, and instead we were told we were going to a "hospital" where young and unmarried women were to give birth and face the certainty of giving their babies up for adoption. We were about to meet women who symbolized our own birth mothers who had abandoned us, and allow our fates to be met in a far-
off land called America.
We entered what appeared to be a small reception room that was dimply lit and uncomfortable hot. There were no windows to let in the July sun, and cold lines of folding
chairs and tables awaited our arrival. My travel companions and I nervously glanced at each other with looks on our faces that said the same thing, "What are we doing here?"
The manager of the hospital entered the room and warmly greeted us. She was a short woman, with permed hair in tight ringlets around her head. Her eyes were small, but as she spoke, her eyes appeared to get larger with each word. "The women want to express their gratitude that you have come to visit them. Please understand that for these women, their journey is hard, because for some of them, not even their families know they are here." The same of being an unmarried pregnant woman in Korea is still great.
The main doors opened and, one by one, pregnant Korean women filed in, their faces drawn down to the floor, and each belly appeared to be rounder and fuller than the last. The girls silently sat down opposite each of us. A tiny woman sat across the table from me. She appeared to be no older than twenty, just three years younger than me. She had a short pixie haircut and wore a light pink maternity shirt that barely contained her bulging belly. I knew she had to be close to her due date. She was the first young Korean woman I had seen who didn't wear makeup. She tried to keep her eyes on the floor, but every now and then she would glance at me with pretty, pitiful eyes.
"Anyonghasaeyo!" I tried to say cheerfully, but she barely nodded at me.
I looked down the table and saw my companions also trying unsuccessfully to speak to the women sitting across from them. I stared at the faces of these anonymous women and noticed how desperate and miserable they looked.
The woman sitting across form me passed me an origami-folded crane made out of a bright pink paper. How strange and cheerful the crane seemed in this damp and lonely room.
Suddenly, one pregnant woman touched her belly and began to cry, deep sorrowful wails. Her friends hugged her and also began crying, and my own tears stung my eyes. I realized why these poor women were crying--because they saw us, and they realized who their babies would become. Their babies, much like us, would never be able to talk to them, and they could never be able to understand who they were.
As the tears continued to drown my eyes, I could feel the bitterness in my heart seep out because for the first time, I got it. When I saw how much it tormented these women to be pregnant with babies they had to give up, I realized the deep cost of what my birth mother went through. Knowing that she didn't give me up because she was selfish and uncaring lifted a great burden from my heart, and for the first time in my life, I forgave my birth mother for placing me for adoption. I started to heal. I reached across the table, and taking the pregnant woman's hand, I smiled at her. I placed a crumpled note, previously translated into Korean, gently into her palm. The note told this birthmother, any birth mother, not to worry about her unborn baby. Her baby would grow up to be a good person in America . I continued to hold her hand, and I hoped she could see the sincerity in my eyes. Because in that moment, for me, I held the hand of my birth mother, and she held mine.
By Kimberly Hee Stock. Reprinted with permission,
originally printed in Chicken Soup for the Adopted Soul
Finding the greater truth in my adoption
June 01,2011 / Kimberly Hee Stock
I was angry in Korea . I had been angry all of my life because I was an odd construction of a person: a Korean-looking girl on the outside, a Caucasian-sounding girl on the inside. I didn't know who I was, and I was having a hard time accepting the parts I did know about myself. My background read like that of a hundred thousand other Korean adoptees: I was abandoned as a young child and found in a "police box." Doctors estimated my age like I was a stray dog at an animal shelter. I was given a new generic and a new generic birthday. I wasn't always accepted as a "White Girl" in my little Midwestern town because of how I looked, and for the past few weeks in Korea , I realized that I was having a hard time being accepted as a Korean girl because I couldn't properly speak the language.
"How much longer?" I whispered to my fellow traveler. "I'm starting to feel sick." I was on a bus with around twenty other Korean adoptees on what was called a "motherland tour" of Korea . The idea of the trip was for us to get in touch with the land that had given
us birthand also rejected us.
The bus shuddered, having to carry us up yet another winding and dangerously narrow road somewhere in Seoul . We were not given the secret location, and instead we were told we were going to a "hospital" where young and unmarried women were to give birth and face the certainty of giving their babies up for adoption. We were about to meet women who symbolized our own birth mothers who had abandoned us, and allow our fates to be met in a far-
off land called America.
We entered what appeared to be a small reception room that was dimply lit and uncomfortable hot. There were no windows to let in the July sun, and cold lines of folding
chairs and tables awaited our arrival. My travel companions and I nervously glanced at each other with looks on our faces that said the same thing, "What are we doing here?"
The manager of the hospital entered the room and warmly greeted us. She was a short woman, with permed hair in tight ringlets around her head. Her eyes were small, but as she spoke, her eyes appeared to get larger with each word. "The women want to express their gratitude that you have come to visit them. Please understand that for these women, their journey is hard, because for some of them, not even their families know they are here." The same of being an unmarried pregnant woman in Korea is still great.
The main doors opened and, one by one, pregnant Korean women filed in, their faces drawn down to the floor, and each belly appeared to be rounder and fuller than the last. The girls silently sat down opposite each of us. A tiny woman sat across the table from me. She appeared to be no older than twenty, just three years younger than me. She had a short pixie haircut and wore a light pink maternity shirt that barely contained her bulging belly. I knew she had to be close to her due date. She was the first young Korean woman I had seen who didn't wear makeup. She tried to keep her eyes on the floor, but every now and then she would glance at me with pretty, pitiful eyes.
"Anyonghasaeyo!" I tried to say cheerfully, but she barely nodded at me.
I looked down the table and saw my companions also trying unsuccessfully to speak to the women sitting across from them. I stared at the faces of these anonymous women and noticed how desperate and miserable they looked.
The woman sitting across form me passed me an origami-folded crane made out of a bright pink paper. How strange and cheerful the crane seemed in this damp and lonely room.
Suddenly, one pregnant woman touched her belly and began to cry, deep sorrowful wails. Her friends hugged her and also began crying, and my own tears stung my eyes. I realized why these poor women were crying--because they saw us, and they realized who their babies would become. Their babies, much like us, would never be able to talk to them, and they could never be able to understand who they were.
As the tears continued to drown my eyes, I could feel the bitterness in my heart seep out because for the first time, I got it. When I saw how much it tormented these women to be pregnant with babies they had to give up, I realized the deep cost of what my birth mother went through. Knowing that she didn't give me up because she was selfish and uncaring lifted a great burden from my heart, and for the first time in my life, I forgave my birth mother for placing me for adoption. I started to heal. I reached across the table, and taking the pregnant woman's hand, I smiled at her. I placed a crumpled note, previously translated into Korean, gently into her palm. The note told this birthmother, any birth mother, not to worry about her unborn baby. Her baby would grow up to be a good person in America . I continued to hold her hand, and I hoped she could see the sincerity in my eyes. Because in that moment, for me, I held the hand of my birth mother, and she held mine.
By Kimberly Hee Stock. Reprinted with permission,
originally printed in Chicken Soup for the Adopted Soul
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
My Birthday/Adoption Thoughts
34 years ago, a lady who I will probably never meet, gave birth to me. Most years, this makes me sad. Even as I type that, it makes me a little bit sad. But this year, I feel gratefulness, peace, perhaps even joy.
For 28 years, I never thought of myself as being born. I was just "adopted". I didn't really mind being adopted, other than the occasional teasing that had pretty much ended by middle school. And aside from thinking about it, generally around my birthday and when filling out doctor's forms (and wondering about my birth mother's physical characteristics from time to time), I didn't give it much other thought.
After my first were born ("were" because I had twins), my perspective completely changed. For the first time, I realized that I had been "born". Now that seems silly, perhaps even made up, but I had never, ever thought of myself being in someone's womb...the way I had carried my girls. I had come to my family, via airplane and bam...instant family at the airport. After I had the girls, I yearned to know how my "carrier's" pregnancy went; did she have extreme nausea like I did, did she have pelvic separation, did she carry so low, everyone thought she was having a boy? And these were just the start of my questions.
Lately, people have come into my life that have caused me to start looking into the adoption process/Korea/my own adoption. What I have found is amazing! Blog after blog of Korean adoptees...writing about the same things I feel. It makes me feel like I am justified in my feelings, and I feel less alone; I want to be more involved in this special network of people. I want to visit Korea, even if it's not to reconnect with biological family, but just to walk on the streets where I was born, left, and raised for 6 months by a foster family.
I've recently read a book, I Wish for you a Beautiful Life, and this brings me to my feelings on this birthday. I feel glad. I feel like I was given the opportunity to come to America, to join the Kroeck family, to become a musician/swimmer/fanatic for Scrabble :) and then to join and help create our own Hearn family. I feel like someone loved me so much, she wanted a better life for me, and was willing to put aside all of her own pain and sadness, so that I could become the person I am today. I am a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a mom; it's ironic that it took becoming a mother to stir up all these feelings, but it's by that same token that I can only fully understand the sacrifice she made and the gift that I've been given .
I heart faces---Red/White/Blue
We had tons of fun these last few days, celebrating the July 4th holiday! Of
course the girls were dressed in their red, white and blue and looked SO cute!!
computer woes
Wish I could get this to work. Everything else looks like it works. But not the pics. White color doesn't work either...hahaha. Well, maybe it'll work tomorrow. Why the heck would pressing the picture icon button, make the save now button activate? This is why I'm not friends with computers.
4th of July
I can't get any pics to attach, but here's a link to our July 4th pics!!
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2243372684210.2138690.1244891443&l=42be355c95 pre 4th photo shoot
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2245805345025.2138860.1244891443&l=e89dcf37e3 Bellaire festival
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2246777369325.2138926.1244891443&l=ef22094cbb 4th of July
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2246920812911.2138933.1244891443&l=8de9082e27 "twin snyc"
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2243372684210.2138690.1244891443&l=42be355c95 pre 4th photo shoot
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2245805345025.2138860.1244891443&l=e89dcf37e3 Bellaire festival
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2246777369325.2138926.1244891443&l=ef22094cbb 4th of July
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2246920812911.2138933.1244891443&l=8de9082e27 "twin snyc"
Friday, July 1, 2011
My Sunshine
Lexi is growing up so fast. She is talking, standing, cruising, getting into everything...LOVE HER SO MUCH!!!!
Here are the rest of her evening's pics:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2240248566109.2138487.1244891443&l=a89567478e
MOVIES
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjkOrhx7Jt0 Lex talking and laughing
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIvco6iebTA Deep in the Heart of Texas, by Tam
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wchF6EoOJ6Y&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL Mads reading to Sami
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtE4R9TdDoY&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL If you wanna be my lover, by Tam
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2Tbm8P4oGI Little Einsteins
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIvco6iebTA Deep in the Heart of Texas, by Tam
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wchF6EoOJ6Y&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL Mads reading to Sami
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtE4R9TdDoY&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL If you wanna be my lover, by Tam
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2Tbm8P4oGI Little Einsteins
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