Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
I purposely did not call myself a “welfare” mom because, let’s be honest, if I did you would have made some sort of judgment about me based on that word. It’s OK. I’ve done it, too. Everyone on welfare is a single mom who just keeps having kids to get more welfare benefits, right? That’s what I believed when I was growing up.
Now, I am one. And I need to confess. Because it seems that Food Stamps is becoming one of those issues, or maybe it always has been and I’m just noticing it more, that people are extremely opinionated about.
Recently, after a report that Food Stamp use is on the rise, I heard a few minutes of talk radio about the subject, and the host was appalled that people might use their food stamp benefits to buy crab legs or some such seafood luxury.
Confession No. 1: I have used Food Stamps to purchase swordfish steaks at our discount grocery store.
Confession No. 2: I also sometimes buy cake, ice cream, cookies, soda and other “luxury” treats using Food Stamps.
Also, on Facebook, you can “like” this statement: If you can afford alcohol and cigarettes, then you don’t need Foodstamps. (Their spelling; not mine.)
This bothers me. I neither smoke nor drink alcohol but I have other vices. Like shopping. And eating. And watching movies.
Confession No. 3: My family sometimes eats out. And we buy clothes or shoes when we or the kids need them. And we have a Netflix account.
We have been receiving Food Stamps for about a year and a half. My husband works two part-time jobs and goes to graduate school. I stay home with the kids and do a little bit of freelance writing when I can. We’re halfway through his graduate program. We don’t plan to be on Food Stamps forever. We look forward to the day when we can be off the program.
In the meantime, though, I’ve learned to accept this help at this stage of our lives. Even though we sometimes spend our money on other things, being on Food Stamps means that I don’t have to worry about how I’m going to feed my kids or if I have to choose between food and rent this month. It means that I know we’ll have grocery money, even if I can’t always see where the money to pay the rest of the bills is going to come from. And it means that occasionally we can do other things that families who aren’t poor get to do. Like go to the movies. Or eat at a restaurant. Or spend a day at the zoo. To say that we’re not allowed to do any of those things because we’re on Food Stamps is like saying we should be punished for being poor. To me, that’s the thought pattern behind the alcohol-and-cigarettes statement.
I know that people abuse the system. My mother-in-law worked in that sector her entire adult career and could tell stories. You can write us off as the exception, but I’m sure there are more “exceptions” out there. I’m just asking you not to judge me because I use a Food Stamp card. (Especially not if you notice the highlights in my hair or the new clothes I’m wearing. Confession No. 4: My mom paid for both for my birthday.)
If you pay taxes, then I’m grateful that some of your tax money can help feed my family for a time.
One final confession? Most of the time, I hate being on Food Stamps, but I love not having to worry about how to feed my two kids while I worry about how to pay the other bills. And, sometimes, I’m glad for the experience, if only to have walked a mile in another mom’s shoes.
Isabelle finally had a dream come true on Sunday: Baseball! Ever since watching a Barney video for the first time, she has been into baseball. Of course, it doesn’t help that her parents are die-hard Cubs fans, even in the land of Philliedom.
One of our summer fun list activities was minor league baseball, so on Sunday, we traveled to Lancasater for a Barnstormers game. They were playing the Somerset (N.J.) Patriots. Our seats were on the lawn, so we brought a blanket, and sat near the fence, right behind the opposing team’s bullpen. Phil described it as being like a kid in a candy store for him. So close to the action we could talk to the pitchers. And we did.
But that’s getting a little ahead of myself. After Isabelle and I scoped out the food, Phil noticed that people were gathering on the field to play catch. So, he took Isabelle out to the outfield to have a catch with her. It was more like target practice for Isabelle. He said she stood a foot away from him and hurled the ball as hard as she could. But she was adorable in her Wrigley Field shirt and too-big Cubs baseball cap.
We wandered around the concourse for food and made our selections before heading back to the blanket. Just after we sat down, one of the pitchers handed a ball under the fence to Phil for Isabelle. Just like that: Isabelle had an official Atlantic League baseball. We didn’t know until later what a valuable gift we’d been given. We had to guard it from ambitious older kids who had their eyes on it.
Here she is showing it off while swinging the bucket her kids meal came in.
Corban wanted to get in on the action, too.
Hey, Dad. Gimme some of those fries. Good fries, by the way. Excellent food all around, but maybe the ballpark atmosphere contributes to that.
So, even before the actual game started, we were sold on the Lancaster Barnstormers ballpark experience and vowed to come back as long as we live in the area.
Between innings, we got to know our pitcher “friend” a little better. As all of us were decked out in Cubs attire, he asked why we weren’t home watching Lou Piniella’s last game. Then, he asked Phil if he was a die-hard fan, to which Phil replied, “If by diehard you mean we like them even when they suck and we hate the White Sox, then yes.” Turns out he was in spring training with the Cubs but was released after an injury. Before we left for the night, I asked his name and we figured out later he was Jeff Kennard.
He was kind to the little ones on the lawn, making good on his promises to give the next foul ball to whoever’s turn it was, handing out bubble gum and teasing the overeager boys who would do anything to get a foul ball.
We also got to watch a former Big Leager pitch in Jason Simontacchi, who used to play for the St. Louis Cardinals. My husband, the baseball almanac, told me this.
One of the great perks of this park is its kid-friendliness. Playground equipment — three big sets of it — free for all to play on; a carousel and bouncy toys for a one-price, play all game fee; and bumper boats. The latter my husband was looking forward to, so he and Isabelle made the trek to the other side of the park, only to find out she was too small to ride them. Phil was disappointed, but he made it up to her.
She’s No. 1! She can’t hurt anyone with it, I don’t think, and she can wave it around like crazy, which she does. Corban’s already taken a small bite out of it, so it’s fun for everyone!
We left before the game was over but spent almost four hours at the ballpark. Is there a better way to squeeze the life out of summer? Phil’s classes start on Thursday, and we have one more day trip planned before we settle in to a school routine.
I think a trip to the ballpark is a must-do every summer. It’s nothing like Wrigley and the Cubs, but it’s a start.