Family | Kevin D. Hendricks

Lexi’s Last Day of Kindergarten

It seems like only yesterday Lexi was heading off to her first day of kindergarten. She was over-the-top excited and Milo burst into tears.

Today was her last day of kindergarten. She’s older, wiser and taller.

The last day celebration included a cookout with Pete the naturalist at the Dodge Nature Center, featuring mini hot dogs (Milo ate half the pack) and pizza. Then we headed back to school to hear about some of her favorite things from throughout the year and every student received an award for following one of the school’s five overall rules.

Lexi was recognized for “safety,” because she always brought the right gear. I think that means I should get an award for sending my kid to school prepared (which usually meant stopping her on the way out the door and insist she wear something more appropriate). She also got the award for making sure everyone else was being safe too, which I’m pretty sure means she’s just bossy. She practices all day long on Milo, so it’s good to see it’s paying off.

It’s been a fun year watching Lexi grow. I think the social aspect of kindergarten—learning how to interact with other kids, following the rules, being prepared—has probably been the most important, though it’s also been cool to see her learning the academics. She’s learning how to read, slowly and with more and more confidence. Having a kindergarten teacher for a mom, some people expect reading to be a serious and early milestone in our house. But it’s actually counter-productive to teach kids to read too early (Abby could give you all sorts of reasons why—I’ll leave that blog post to her). It’s important to let them go at their own pace. And it’s been fun to see that with Lexi, to see her start to read signs in stores and read stuff over our shoulder. She’s still gaining confidence with reading books, but she’s getting there.

I’m also trying not to be too proud that one of her favorite things in school was writing.

Finally, the end of the school year means the end of a little project of mine, the Days of School. It started with me taking pictures on the first day of school (I have an addiction to feed). Then as we waited for the bus on the second and third days of school Lexi kept asking me to take pictures. So we started taking a picture every day. I think we only missed one or two days when Lexi actually went to school, and of course we missed all the days she was absent (and since she had mono in the fall, there were a lot of those). But in the end we have 151 pictures of Lexi going to kindergarten.

As we went outside to take her picture today I told her we were taking her last picture. She told me, “Nope, you’re taking pictures in first grade too!” So we’ll see how long this thing continues.

Check out the Days of School:

0 Comments | Posted: June 5, 2012 | Filed Under: Children, Education, Family | Tags: kindergarten, Lexi, pictures, reading, school

Tornado Destroys Family Farm

by Kevin D. Hendricks

My uncle’s farm outside Raymond, Kansas, was hit by a tornado late Saturday night. Everybody’s OK, but the devastation is pretty complete. The farmhouse is still standing, but the roof was lifted up and the windows blown out, so that doesn’t mean much.

While my uncle currently lives there, this has been the family farm. My grandparents originally owned the house and my mom grew up there with her siblings. My aunt was married there (I was the ring bearer in the wedding, though I seem to remember thinking I was the ring bear). When my grandparents “retired” (?) and moved to town, my uncle and his family moved in. My cousins grew up there and I have so many memories of going out to the farm. We’d play flashlight tag, truth or dare, light firecrackers, build forts in the old scrap iron pile and fight like siblings inevitably do.

There are a lot of memories in that place. Here’s what it looks like now:

I don’t have a very good before picture, but here’s my grandparents standing in front of that same door celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. And here’s my aunt standing on those very steps at her wedding. A little generational history at that old farmhouse.

The devastation is much more complete away from the house. A giant machine shed and two-story wooden barn were completely destroyed. In this picture those buildings should line the left side of the road. In the distance you can see a combine and several vehicles that were lined up inside the shed, which is now completely gone.

I remember that driveway feeling crowded with buildings. Not so much anymore. Now it’s mostly debris. A concrete silo was completely knocked down and debris is strewn all over, sheet metal wrapped around trees and even a pipe piercing a tractor tire.

My uncle heard reports of a tornado near Raymond on the radio and made for the cellar. Five minutes later his ears popped, then there was a loud boom and then nothing but the sound of falling glass. That was it.

This picture is probably the most brutal, my grandparents, picking through the debris. I don’t know what they hope to accomplish there, and maybe the futility of it is what makes it hurt all the more.

But then there’s my favorite picture. Among all that chaos and devastation, my uncle and cousin are standing there smiling:

Its just another storm to weather. After all, it’s just stuff.

0 Comments | Posted: April 19, 2012 | Filed Under: Family | Tags: farm, madden, Raymond, tornado

My Summer Has Evaporated

by Kevin D. Hendricks

I didn’t know it, but my summer evaporated as soon as I went on that impromptu trip to Dallas for the Echo conference. The next week we had to travel out of town for a funeral. Then Abby had an all-week conference while making final preparations for our church’s VBS. This week is that VBS, which goes all morning (it’s 4 in the afternoon and I’m the only one awake). And next week Abby goes back to work.

Summer over.

Life has been slipping by lately and it’s all I can do to hold on. In a span of a few days I attended a funeral and a baptism (oddly enough in that order, which I’m choosing to see as hopeful).

Great Grandma and the neighbor’s dog both died within a week and a half of each other, which prompted all kinds of odd conversations: “Why did Domino die?” “Because he was old and sick.” “And why did Great Grandma die?” “Um, because she was old and sick.”

And for once the frustration and right answer actually matched up: “But how does Grandma get to heaven? She can’t just fly, she’s dead!” “I don’t know, Lexi.”

The other day I was half lamenting, half apologizing to my neighbor for not keeping up with the yard work. “You’re not raising grass, you’re raising kids,” she told me.

It’s a small comfort, but I’ll take it.

0 Comments | Posted: August 17, 2011 | Filed Under: Family, Introspection | Tags: death, dogs, Domino, Esther Trudell, Lexi, neighbors, pets, summer, yard work

I Stand on the Shoulders of Giants

by Kevin D. Hendricks

If you haven’t been able to tell, we’re going through some stuff right now. I can’t really talk about it here for a number of reasons. But I found myself commenting that I’ve been blogging for 10 years (12, actually) and I’m not sure if my blog will survive this. Aside from being too busy to blog, I’m finding myself unable to blog about other things. Everything else in life seems mundane right now. I don’t have the emotional energy to invest in anything else, so why fake it?

But if a decade (and then some) of blogging has taught me anything, it’s that you have to press on. It’s taught me that the writing helps. It’s taught me that a lot of crappy writing has to come out, and that’s OK. This isn’t for you, it’s for me.

In the midst of all of this the one thing I can say is that the only reason we’re still kicking is because we’re standing on the shoulders of giants. I don’t know how people go through crises like this alone. I couldn’t do it. Friends are stepping up and helping us, and not just in a vague, ‘we’ve got your back,’ way, but in a real, going around the world and back kind of way. And it’s not just a couple people or a handful of people. It’s a crowd.

That’s humbling. I don’t deserve any of it. And yet there they are.

And it’s a good thing, because it feels like it’s getting worse. We’re not out of the woods yet. We’re just getting started.

[And there's another lesson from a decade of blogging: Being cryptically vague. I thought I left those days behind me. Guess not.]

1 Comment | Posted: March 21, 2011 | Filed Under: Family | Tags: Friends, help, support

Remembering My Grandpa

by Kevin D. Hendricks

Last night Yeshumnesh asked if I cried when my grandpa died. Actually, she asked if I would cry if Milo kept eating and eating until his stomach exploded and then he died. I tend to ignore those bizarre ‘what if’ scenarios and then she asked more seriously if I cried whey my grandpa died.

I didn’t cry.

He died in 2002 and I tried to explain that it was his time. I was sad to see him go, but he was barely hanging on. He’d grown so frail and skinny at the end. Medical complications were getting ridiculous and while I don’t remember it all, I think amputation had been discussed. That’s not something an 80-year-old man needs to go through. His death wasn’t unexpected, it was a mercy.

Then I showed Yeshumnesh some pictures.

This is how I remember my grandpa. That and the fact that he called me ‘turd.’ If I had more time I would have explained to Yeshumnesh what I wrote for my grandpa’s funeral. I don’t think I’ve ever written anything else that so perfectly captures a person. That was Grandpa, making people laugh.

While talking about him I realized none of my kids ever met him and even Abby barely got to know him. By the time she was in the picture my grandpa was already frail in body and mind. They all would have loved laughing in his kitchen. And that’s actually one of my greatest treasures—standing around in my grandpa’s kitchen with my brother and cousins and Abby, telling stories and laughing so hard.

A line I wrote nine years ago sums it up: He grew too old before I grew up, and I miss him.

This picture captures him so perfectly, I can almost smell the Old Spice.

0 Comments | Posted: February 3, 2011 | Filed Under: Family | Tags: death, Les Hendricks

January Sucks: Admitting Failure & Struggle

by Kevin D. Hendricks

The other day I tweeted about how much January sucks:

I think this month is trying to crush me. And then kick me while I’m down. Not nice, January. Not nice.

I was sick for two weeks and it feels like I’ve spent the whole month coughing.

But the bigger issue is the struggle. I haven’t blogged much lately, in part because life seems like such a struggle lately. It’s hard. I feel like I’m flirting with failure and that’s not a popular topic to talk about. It’s not a topic that pulls me to the computer to craft a blog post.

But I think it’s time to fess up and move on.

Life is hard right now. Work has been slow for a while. Bills are stacking up and it’s depleting whatever safety net we had. I’m not saying this for pity. It’s just the way things are. It’s too easy to think everyone else is doing just fine and we’re the ones who are struggling, but I’m sure that’s not the case.

So between work and bills and daddy daycare and a preteen who doesn’t want to be here, it’s hard. I’m struggling.

I keep reminding myself that these are the times that show us what we’re made of. And what am I made of? Do I have what it takes to make it work? Or is this juggling act going to come crashing down? Some days I don’t know.

But we keep on.

My saving grace lately has been a client with a nearly unlimited capacity for low-paying freelance articles. Last week they offered me a section editor position and are putting me on retainer. It’s more work for less money, but it’s steady. It’s not the solution to all my problems (is there such a thing?), but it’s a nice step forward.

I’m also thankful for friends we can lean on. My color-coded Google calendar could trigger a migraine it’s so full. Lots of entries involve friends stepping in to watch kids or loan cars or give us some measure of sanity. We couldn’t do this alone.

I’m also thankful for a smart and strong wife. These are hard times and we need a lot of strength to get through. I’m proud that Abby has both good ideas and insights, but also the strength to buckle down and get through this. Especially since financial stress has to be about the worst kind of stress (otherwise you can throw money at the stress and that at least helps a little bit).

One of the books I’ve been reading lately (Not For Sale) reminds me that no matter how tough life gets, I have it easy. The book tells stories of children ripped from their homes, forced to murder and butcher their friends as they’re turned into child soldiers in Uganda. Or women enslaved in brothels in Southeast Asia and each glimmer of freedom turns out to be more of the same rejection and pain. My struggle would be their cakewalk.

I’m also thankful for babies. A few just born and a few still on the way, lighting up their parents’ lives like electricity. Can’t help but smile at that.

A little perspective always helps. And so we struggle on.

0 Comments | Posted: January 24, 2011 | Filed Under: Daily Grind, Employment, Family, Friends | Tags: failure, struggle, work

Looking Back at 2010

by Kevin D. Hendricks

It’s New Year’s Eve and nobody’s really working today, so it’s time for a little 2010 recap. Thankfully my wife did a full recap in photos, so I can skimp a little.

2010 has been insane.

Bigger Family
The biggest moment, of course, was welcoming a preteen into our family, along with all the Hannah Montana and Justin Bieber and sparkly pink that comes with a pre-teen. It’s been quite a ride with Yeshumnesh and we’ve got a ways to go. I’ve never felt so old—and at the same time so young. I did manage to welcome Yeshumnesh into our family with a new haircut. First time in three years I paid for one. The mohawk made our Christmas card.

Writing Wins
I also published three books:

Addition by Adoption, is my book of tweets about raising kids and bringing Milo home from Ethiopia. A portion of the proceeds go to clean water in Ethiopia, and in September we hit the $5,000 mark and raised enough to build a well in Ethiopia. The book is also just barely turning a profit, which is exciting.

Then there’s Open Our Eyes, the book that supports homeless advocate Mark Horvath. If you want to know more about what Mark does, read Ka’e k’e‘s story. It’s been a big year for Mark. We also helped him win $50,000. The book has all kinds of big names contributors, like New York Times best-selling author Chris Brogan. All profits from the book go to support Mark’s work with InvisiblePeople.tv. The profits aren’t much—I send Mark his first payment yesterday ($226.56), but he won’t be retiring any time soon. Knowing Mark he’ll be spending it on someone else.

I also published a post-apocalyptic sci-fi novel. More for fun than anything and to give self publishing a try (works nicely, crappy cover and all). The post-apocalyptic fun continued all year as I kept diving into more post-apocalyptic literature (hmm… maybe I should have reversed that order).

For all the writing success, I also had a big failure. My fourth attempt at National Novel Writing Month fell flat. I gave up after two weeks when the story wasn’t coming together and I realized my life was too busy.

Giving Back
With building a well in Ethiopia and publishing a book to fight homelessness I’ve done a lot of giving back this year. But it started even earlier when we responded to an earthquake by coloring. Lexi’s pictures ended up raising $675 for Haiti. Other folks got in on the action about the time the idea fizzled out. I’d love to do more with it, but I think I have enough charity cases on my hand.

0 Comments | Posted: December 31, 2010 | Filed Under: Books, Family, Writing | Tags: 2010, Addition by Adoption, Adoption, charity water, homelessness, InvisiblePeople.tv, Least of These, Mark Horvath, mohawk, New Year, Open Our Eyes, post-apocalyptic, recap

The Life of a One-Car Family

by Kevin D. Hendricks

With the launch of Open Our Eyes: Seeing the Invisible People of Homelessness it’s been a crazy week. That is perhaps the understatement of the year.

If you haven’t bought a copy yet, please do.

Our car has been making funny rattling noises for months and today was finally the time to check it out. Not actually take care of it, just find out what it is. This is the extent of the craziness that is my life. I have to move mountains to schedule an appointment just to find out what’s wrong with my car. Actually fixing it will require moving an entirely separate mountain.

This is what it took today:

Wife leaves for work with the car. Child #1 leaves for school. Me, child #2 and #3 take the bus to go get the car from wife’s work. We drive the car to the mechanic. The mechanic drives us back home. The mechanic drives the car back to the shop. Oil changed, tires rotated, weird noises analyzed, enormous estimate written. Different mechanic comes to pick us up in the shop’s truck because he can’t drive a stick and didn’t realize we needed the carseats. He goes back to the shop and gets the carseats out of our car. Comes back to our house and I install them in the backseat of the truck. Mechanic, me, child #2 and #3 drive back to the shop. I take the carseats out of the truck and put them back in the car. We drive the car to Abby’s work and leave child #2 there. Me and child #3 drive back home. After a nap (not for me) me and child #3 go pick up child #1 from school. Go back home. Me, child #1 and child #3 drive to wife’s work to pick up wife and child #2. The whole family, together for the first time all day, drives home.

Tired yet?

That’s the life of a one-car family. If we could afford it, I’d be tempted to put an end to that and get a second car. But then we’d have twice as many choke-worthy estimates to worry about and suddenly today’s mountain-moving insanity doesn’t seem so bad.

2 Comments | Posted: November 11, 2010 | Filed Under: Family, Transportation | Tags: automobile, car, family, repair

A Family of Five One Week On

by Kevin D. Hendricks

Yeshumnesh has been home a little more than a week and we’re all slowly adjusting.

It’s kind of a rollercoaster ride to suddenly be the dad of a preteen. This morning I took Yeshumnesh to get her ears pierced. We’ve borrowed a truckload of Hannah Montana from the library. Her birthday list is filled with sparkly pink items. And I think I have the awkward, dorky dad part down. At least that comes naturally.

We’ve been trying to keep busy as boredom is definitely a problem. I hate that anyone could ever be bored—there’s way too much to do in life to be bored. Growing up one my friend’s parents treated ‘bored’ like a swear word and they’d put you to work if they heard you complaining about being bored. I kind of like that. But in this case it’s understandable as Yeshumnesh is still adjusting to everything and we can’t exactly kick her out the back door and tell her to go find something to do. Abby and I are doing a lot of remembering what it was like to be home for the summer and having nothing to do.

One night we went to the Mall of America as a family. The verdict was it was too loud and overwhelming. But McDonald’s ice cream was a win. We went to church on Sunday, but that was also overwhelming. I think having all kinds of strangers come up and talk to you is a little much for anyone. The board game Sorry has been a big hit. And as dorky as we may be as parents, the movie Josie & The Pussycats was deemed cool, so I think we get some kind of points for that.

On Tuesday night we went to a wading pool to meet with another adoptive family with three kids who were from the same care center as Yeshumnesh. They all knew each other in Ethiopia and it was quite a reunion. I saw them coming and pointed them out to Yeshumnesh. She jumped up and both girls ran to each other. There was hugging, squealing and a lot of talking in Amharic. It was so cool to see. I literally applauded (see: dork).

So we’re all slowly getting used to a family of five. The car feels crammed when we all pile in to go somewhere. The house is a lot louder (though that’s all Lexi and Milo). Meals have had to be a lot more organized—somehow one more person means we need to put more effort into it. And I think Abby and I are definitely going to bed earlier. Once Yeshumnesh goes to bed I usually look at the clock and balk at staying up later.

It’s only been a week and it’s still summer, so things will likely get bumpier later, but so far so good.

0 Comments | Posted: August 5, 2010 | Filed Under: Adoption, Family | Tags: Hannah Montana, Yeshumnesh