We moved to Sanford.  This tiny town that didn’t even have a Target.  Or any of the good chain restaurants.  Hell, there wasn’t even a Super Walmart here at the time!  It was, to say the least, culture shock for this spoiled, high-maintenance city girl.  We rented a house in Sanford because I just didn’t feel up to house-hunting and because we were seriously considering buying in Apex when the time came.  I was pretty sure small town life would be miserable, but I was determined to give it a try.  It might never compare to Florence (the city we’d just left) or Knoxville (my hometown) but it was going to be our home for at least a year, like it or not.

So we settled in and made a life.  Had a baby three months after we moved here, knowing absolutely nobody in town who could help out when we needed it.  We tried to get involved…put my oldest in a preschool, thinking I’d meet people that way.  It was a no-go.  He was never invited to anyone’s house for a playdate or to a birthday party or to anything at all.  Not because he wasn’t liked.  Every mom I met told me how much their child loved my son, but that didn’t translate into friends, apparently.  He’d come home and tell me that so-and-so was having a party and how much he wanted to go but never got an invitation.  It was heartbreaking, for both of us. I felt like everyone had been here their entire lives and had no room in their hearts for me or my kids.  But for some reason, we decided to buy a house in Sanford.  Something told me to stay here, to keep trying.

I started blogging, not to find friends but to have an outlet.  And I started meeting people…virtually, but they were local and I felt like doors began to open to me.  Then I found myself pregnant unexpectedly.  I was surprised, but happy.  Finding joy in the unpredictability of life.  But just as I began to adjust to the idea of having another baby, the floor dropped out.  My husband lost his job and I thought we were going to have to leave a town that I’d started to love.  Again.  The despair I felt was unimaginable.

One day not long after that, I picked up the newspaper and read a story about this church who’d done a super awesome amazing thing…they’d provided a school uniform to every single child at a local public school. WOW. I always considered myself a Christian, but I’d quit going to church and was pretty pissed off at God for a lot of things.  I also despised the religious right, the holier than thou attitudes at most churches, the behavior that was most definitely not Christ-like.  But something told me that this church knew what it meant to follow Christ.  And so we went.  On August 31, 2008 we stepped into Brickcity Community Church and found what we were looking for in a church.  And we started to make friends, slowly but surely.  Baby Violet arrived.  I still didn’t know a lot of people who I could call on anytime, but by the time she was 4 months old I felt like I had a whole host of friends who would do anything for me, any time of the night or day.

And a year later, I couldn’t be happier.  I continue to meet people, through church and in the community.  I’ve helped start this little thing called SocialSanford so others can know all of the cool stuff going on in this small town that offers so much.  I am secure in my faith.  I am loved, by so many people that I am overwhelmed at times and wonder what I did to deserve it.

Today was the 4th birthday of that little boy who was still incubating when we moved here.  There was a party…a “Connect” as our church calls them.  The team I serve on got together to do life for a little while and I invited some other friends since it was also a birthday celebration for my son.  We played in the fountain at Depot Park, ate pizza and cupcakes, and enjoyed each other.  It was the perfect way to spend the day.

This picture says it all.  It’s such an iconic view of Sanford, and it’s filled with people we care about.  It’s not much to look at this small, but if you click on it, you can get the full effect.  We’ve come such a long way in the last four years, and this picture will always remind me of just how beautiful life can be.

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I now have my computer back.  Thanks to Paul at the Computer Repair Shop on Steele Street, everything was saved and it’s now running smoothly.  The only problem is that I’ve misplaced my Office 2007 and Photoshop discs so I’m desperately trying to find those so this computer is useful for something more than just the internet.  I can reorder the Office disc for about $30, so I’m OK with that if necessary.  But the lack of Photoshop makes me want to cry.  Everyone is telling me to try Picasa, so I downloaded it but haven’t had the heart to open it yet.  I really love my Photoshop…

The NA1 class is INTENSE.  Started last Tuesday, had an exam Wednesday, Thursday, and again last night.  For really real.  Tonight there’s a reprieve from the testing as we’re going to be in the lab.  I’m excited about learning how to wash my hands like a real nurse and tying restraints.  Oh yes, I said restraints.  I should say something funny here about putting my kids in restraints but don’t want to freak people out and have DSS coming to investigate me.  Plus I’m just not all that funny.  Don’t worry, no restraints for the under 12 set at my house.

I had a babysitter last night.  My husband had a class in Raleigh that overlapped with mine and because of the time of day and the fact that it was all 3 of them, I didn’t want to ask a friend to do it.  For most people, a babysitter is not a big deal.  But for me, it is HUGE.  Yes, capital letters HUGE.  We have no family in town and though I have friends who can take the kids in a pinch, I try to avoid that because I don’t want to take advantage of them.  Since we can’t afford date nights, we’ve just never really needed a babysitter.  I was a nervous wreck, not because I doubted the babysitter’s capabilities, but because I didn’t know how the kids would be.  Turns out I was worried over nothing.  They all kissed me goodbye (even Violet) and were absorbed in whatever they were doing before I even pulled out of the driveway.  And this tells me I’m a good mom.  I’ve been criticized in the past for not being comfortable separating from them, for being too attached, for not allowing them to develop normally…but guess what?  When it came down to it they were all fine.  My attachment to them has allowed them to grow and understand that mommy will always be back.  Take that, anti-attachment people!

There were about a million other things over the last week or so that I thought I should blog about but I just can’t remember them.  Oh well…material for another day!

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It is NOT Sanford.  Everyone I know is just as shocked as me that this happened here.  I am heartbroken for many reasons about this story, not the least of which is the fact that this town I love, my adopted home, has entered the national spotlight for this, of all things.  Those of you watching on CNN, on Nancy Grace, on other national news stations don’t see what I see.

I see a place that has so many wonderful people that they were turning away volunteers for the search.  The people of this town wanted to bring that little girl home to her family, one way or another.  There were many, like me, who couldn’t handle the actual search and offered other help.  They even had to turn away those types of volunteers.

I was at the park with a friend the afternoon she was found.  I needed to get out of this house and the park seemed like a good place to be.  There, the other moms were just as horrified as we were by the news.  Sickened, shocked, and scared.

Now that I’m a few days removed from this, I see that I have no reason to be scared.  This was the result of fantastically horrible parenting.  Someone who was obviously in over their head, who didn’t realize the profound gift that motherhood is.  While I’m certainly not Mother of the Year, I think it’s safe to say that there is no way I would ever sell my child into prostitution to support my drug habit.  (Obviously this is all alleged at this point, but it sounds like they have a good reason to charge her with that.)  Lee County isn’t some hotbed of child prostitution or human trafficking.  This was a result of the actions of a few bad people.  I will certainly continue to be vigilant but I refuse to live in fear.

And I have hope.  Because in the midst of this terrible story, I’m reminded that for every one bad person there are many, many more good people.  People who are just as horrified by this as I am.  People who feel this overwhelming need to DO something to fix this even though they don’t know what that something is.  People who are heartbroken for and cried real, painful tears about this little girl they’d never met.

I feel like I need to reassure myself and everyone else that Sanford is a beautiful town.  Not necessarily because of the scenery (though there are some beautiful places here!), but because of the people.  Please don’t let this one story color your opinion of us.  We are not the Shaniya Davis story.  We are so much more.

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I tried to sit back and watch it, knowing that we don’t have insurance and couldn’t afford to have it removed right now.  I didn’t say anything to anyone, but it continued to grow and change and I knew I needed to have it checked.  A friend had sent me the information about Helping Hand several months ago in case I needed it.  And then my husband came home and told me that he’d heard about a woman who’d had a melanoma removed for free through the clinic.  He had no idea I was concerned about this mole, so it seemed like God was nudging me to call them and see if they could help.

They referred me to Sanford Dermatology and I had it removed Thursday.  Biopsy results to come, but I feel strangely confident that everything will be fine.  I cannot say enough good things about the clinic or Sanford Dermatology.  I am so grateful to them for the service they provide to people who are in a bad situation.  I am hopeful that one day I can pay them back for the treatment I received.  In the meantime, if you have the means, please consider sending them a donation so that they can continue to provide help for people who are uninsured.

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