BRAZENLILLY

Oh yeah. I'm that awesome.

2012-01-24T17:45:00.000-08:00

I think the Lord likes to keep me humble. Just in case I get the kids to school on time two days in a row with combed hair, clean undies and no peanut butter on their faces. I mean, that, right there, makes me feel like World's Best Mom. Victory! I'm awesome! But then I have a moment that brings me back to reality. I had a chance to make a quick dash to Target by myself this weekend-- a treat! But I was short on time and rushing. As I pulled into a parking spot, I hopped out and remembered to lock the door of our corolla--it's old school and you have to push the lock down before closing the door. I did NOT, however, remember that in a standard transmission, the e-brake is not optional. As I started walking away, my car started rolling backwards. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap! I squealed and panicked. I didn't know if I should first a) stop the car from rolling or b) unlock the car. But I had thrown my keys into my bottomless-pit-purse! So I was trying to stop the car by holding onto the handle. ???? Why, Jen? Why? The car obviously did not respond to such a weak attempt to stop it's natural progression back into oncoming traffic, so I ran to the trunk and stopped it with my body (I knew those extra pounds would come in handy!) while I dug for the keys. Then I RAN back to the driver's side door, quickly unlocked it (while it was rolling some more), and dove in to pull the e-brake. Whew! I took a moment to catch my breath and smell my pits to make sure the sudden exertion of so much energy wasn't making me too stinky. Had I put on deodorant that morning? I took another sniff to try to remember. Then I sat down properly, started the car up again, and pulled forward 5 feet, so I could occupy the parking space.

Ok, no harm done. No one is walking by. Oh, but hello! There is a young couple sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME, sipping their lattes and watching the entire scene from the comfort of their SUV. WHY would they just be sitting there in their car in the Target parking lot? Just to mock me, clearly. They were obviously amused. I, of course, pretended I didn't see them, and just to prove to them that I WILL NOT BE HUMILIATED, I picked my nose and flicked a booger on their windshield. Ha! I'm just kidding. I would never do that. But I did get a wedgie out of my bum as I walked away in their line of sight.

Aaaaaaaaaand......SCENE.

She looks familiar

2012-01-18T07:35:00.000-08:00

I posted this on FB too, but in case you missed it:

We saw a short trailer for the new Pixar movie, called BRAVE. It's supposed to come out this summer, and we are HUGE Pixar fans. (Maybe you remember a completely random post where I rated all the current Pixar movies in order of my preference.) This new movie is Pixar's first feature film with a female lead, and we think she looks pretty familiar...

Retail Therapy

2012-01-16T15:12:00.000-08:00

I realized I haven't blogged since the non-update, and I probably didn't have the heart to publicize that we got notice from our agency that there will be no re-do or make-up progress report for the kiddos that missed them in December. The flat-out truth is that the flood made it impossible for a normal social worker visit last fall (including a dr's appointment, development assessment and pictures), and so we will not be receiving another update until the scheduled one in March. I keep telling myself that someday we'll tell Asher about these months of waiting as a well-rehearsed story. Kind of like I tell my bio kids about their labor and delivery. Instead of painful contractions, we'll talk about painful waiting periods and dramatic stretches of time--"And then we had to wait six months with NO new pictures or information on how you were doing! We were going crazy!"

Our hearts right now are with the families who received referrals last March, who thought they would be home with their kiddos right now. There is a cog in the government machine in Thailand right now, and their files have not been presented to the adoption board, which is what must take place in order to receive what is called "First Approval." (Did I already explain this?) Once your case is presented (by a Thai government social worker TO the Thai adoption board), you are granted First Approval. Basically, this is when it gets real and papers start going back and forth between Thailand, our agency, our family, the USCIS, back to Thailand, etc. It's when we start looking at plane tickets, tentative court dates, etc. I had a long chat with our agency last week, and basically they do not know exactly where our family is in the queue of files to be presented at the adoption board meetings, but they anticipate it will be in February or March. The dates are Feb 1 & 15, March 8 & 21st. As of right now, travel usually follows about 10-11 weeks after first approval. Because they cannot guarantee when we will get approval, we are having to update our home study and our I-800A, which is a bunch of work. Boo.

Some days I truly feel the excitement of this fact: we are in the home stretch! There is every reason to believe we'll have Asher in our home by summer. Other days, it seems like an endless limbo. And on those days, I do some virtual shopping! I don't think we'll have a typical baby shower, b/c it seems kind of strange to have one for a toddler when he's a third child, but I have slowly been compiling a list of wants and needs. One thing I know we wanted was a heavy-duty toddler carrier. I did a lot of research and we (by we, I'm sure you know I mean "I") decided on a Baby Hawk. They are not cheap, but the one we registered for is specifically made for toddlers, and can be front/back carrier. The website is babyhawk.com and we chose the Oh Snap! Carrier. Ironically, it has no snaps, only buckles. (???) Our registry is AJC36DD103. This was a big decision, like a wedding dress, so thanks for not telling me if you had a bad experience with these or if you think I made the wrong choice in carriers. :)

I also started a wish list at Amazon.com. We don't need a lot of baby items on a typical baby registry, but one of my friends suggested the amazon thing. We put all kinds of smallish items like adoption books, books that have asian children in them, toddler flashcards, plus a few bigger things like a wagon. (That's definitely more want than need.) Often when we are shopping with my kids and they see something they want, I tell them we will put it on their wish list. Turns out, that is a good tactic! It even helps me! I might not be able to buy all of these things, and don't expect others to buy all of them, but it is fun to distract myself from the horrid wait by mentally spoiling our little man.

The non-update update.

2011-12-30T20:55:00.000-08:00

I've re-written this post twice. This is take #3. I needed a few hours distance to clear my head before publishing and I'm glad I did. My first two drafts were super long and angsty, and kind of full of long descriptions of why you should feel sorry for me. I laid out all the bad luck timing of being in the Thailand program at this time and the trifecta of unusual circumstances that have led to delays and frustrations. So, instead of those drafts, I'll try to summarize the facts and my feelings. I think we all know that summarizing long stories into short stories is not my strength, so be patient with me!

Here's the good news:
*We got a correspondence from our agency today about Asher.
*It had a picture of him that we had not seen before.
*It was a really cute picture. (You can see it here.) The password is my maiden name, all lower case. If you need the password, leave a comment or email me at brazenlilly@gmail.com. But I'll only check that email regularly for about a week after posting this, so commenting is the best way to get my attention.)
*We found out a few specific details about how his foster family managed during the flooding. The report said that they were severely affected, but that they live in a "stilt" house, and were able to move important items and all family members to the second floor, and have continued to live there with some normalcy. All family members are safe and doing well in their "psycho-emotional condition." :) There is flooding surrounding their home. The report did not clarify if/when the flooding has receded, but said that HSF is in near-daily phone contact with them, and delivers supplies by boat once a week.

Here's the frustrating news:
*We were expecting a full report (including 3-5 pictures) about Asher's development and well being, and we received no information, other than a check box saying that he is "falling behind" in all developmental expectations. The lack of information is due to the social workers not being able to conduct their routine visits because of the severe flooding.
*The one picture we received was very low resolution (too small to print even a 4x6) and it was taken in June, with the last batch of pictures we received this fall. This is kind of frustrating for 2 reasons. First, it's not any more recent than what we had seen, and also makes me feel a little frustrated knowing that they have not included all available pictures in previous reports. Trying not to dwell on that.
* Basically, we have no specific information or pictures of Asher from the last 6 months, and it is hard to know that he has surely changed so very much in that time. He is now 15 months old. We were planning to see pictures from September, perhaps with him wearing or holding something we sent him after the referral in June.

Here's the most important news that I need to focus on:
*Our son and his foster family are safe. Hundreds of people lost their lives, thousands more lost jobs and homes in this catastrophe, so this is no small praise.

Our agency has acknowledged that many of the reports were "vague" because of the lack of ability to get the children to their doctor's appointments and have the regular lengthy visits with the children. The offices in the US have requested to the Thai offices that they obtain and send any new information or pictures when available, and not wait until March if possible. (That is when we are scheduled to receive another update.)

For those who are wondering, I hesitate to even make a guess as to when we will travel to Thailand to bring Asher home. There are 2 families who received referrals in March 2011 (we received in June) who are still waiting to get their first approval. They have been told they "should" receive that approval on January 4th. (Actually, they were originally told it could happen in October or November.) If they do, they will most likely travel in mid-March. I have no idea if that means our paperwork will be precisely 3 months behind them and we'll travel in June, but of course we are hoping and praying that is not the case. We are hoping the Thai adoption board is working hard to catch up on all the delays from the Nativeland tours this summer and the flooding this fall, and that we will receive our approval...soon. That's all I have the heart to hope for right now, because unmet expectations are going to be the death of me.

Thanks for all your support, questions, prayers, positive comments and thoughts! It absolutely does help.

But it's a useful obsession, see?

2011-12-29T21:38:00.000-08:00

A couple posts back (so, pretty much the other one I did this entire fall) I mentioned that I'd held off on a new internet sensation called Pinterest. I didn't start using it when so many of my friends did. See how strong I am? Well, turns out, that's all a facade. I'm weak, weak, weak! In November I joined and jumped in with both feet and really, really love it. If you don't know what Pinterest is, I don't want to take time explaining it, so ask a friend or ask me for an invitation and go check it out! It was just what I needed to get a little inspired--inspired to do new stuff and even though it provides another way to spend time on the computer, it also has motivated me to get away from the computer and DO stuff. I am not exaggerating when I say that I've probably tried at least 10-12 new dinner recipes in the last 6 weeks. Not all were winners, but it's so nice to break out of the rut.

I also went to Pinterest for ideas for teacher gifts. These were the finished result (2 of the 5 I ended up making) and it was all from ideas I found on the site.

Another fun trend I'm seeing on Pinterest is ideas for activities and crafts to do with kids. I tried two of them out on the same day last week before Christmas and actually remembered to take pictures. This first one involved paint, and my children are obsessed with paint. Painting is right up there with play-doh on activities I dread. But I busted out the new paint project because I love them and I'm such an amazingly nice mommy. You put a few dollops of paint on some paper in a large, wide plastic bin, and then throw in a handful of marbles and let them roll around and do the painting work. It turned out pretty neat looking!

I usually make both kids strip down when paint is involved, especially Syd, who is at an incredibly clumsy and awkward phase. (Last week she spilled her goldfish FIVE times. The SAME bowl of goldfish crackers. 5 times. OH MY WORD.) But I also don't really like posting pictures of my daughter clearly t0ples$--even though she's only 3, it just doesn't sit well with me--so I drew her a shirt in photoshop. haha! I crack myself up.

I can't stop giggling about the purple digi-shirt!

The next activity we did later the same day and it involved crepe paper and masking tape. It's called "Laser Practice." Get it?! I did the first half of the hallway to get them (ok, especially him) pumped up, then Carson finished the rest. I highly recommend this activity. It entertained my kids for almost 30 minutes, which is some kind of record around here. The only problem was they wanted to leave it up for daddy, so every time I went to the bathroom or to my bedroom I had to crawl and contort through the lasers. But still? Worth it!

So, in summary? I heart Pinterest. If you need proof, look up the recipe for Cranberry Bliss Bars. Make them. You, too, will be converted.

So, Christmas happened.

2011-12-27T21:34:00.000-08:00

Since I haven't been great at blogging or posting pictures, I thought I'd give an obligatory post that has both. This will mainly be for my extended family that doesn't check facebook and the stalkers--some of you fall into both categories.

This is the best family shot of the season. Soon I will have an annual series of Christmas Eve shots when Sydney is so tired she is sucking on her fingers. I know for sure this is #2.

Oh, yep, see I found this one from 2009.

But anyway, back to the 2011 play by play: on Christmas Eve, we spent the day with my family. The girl cousins are getting to a fun age (3 and 2) where they can play together and enjoy each other's company.

Here's Bapaw Roy and his oldest grandchild.

I'm kind of in love with this picture of my daughter She's patiently waiting for presents.

Fun fact about my parents: they LOVE movies. They love collecting DVD's and they actually WATCH them. Each year they like to give each other DVD's and instead of writing the actual to/from, they use that as a clue for what movie is inside. For instance, it might say "To: Elizabeth, From: Mr. Darcy" but that would be WAY too amateur for them. Now they mix characters and actors and really make it tricky. I love it. This is my mom trying to figure it out:

Thirty-nine years last week, baby!

Aw, look at those two adorkables. And HALLELUJAH for a new DVD player! The one we have now was free from Trent's work as a 5 year gift. It gets overheated after being on for 75 minutes, which turns out is a very inconvenient time in most movies for your DVD player to stop working.

This is my brother, Mike, and his son, Jack. Really, you think they look alike? Huh. I just don't see it.

Beautiful Becky and little Kate/Katie/Kaitlyn/Katiebug.

We had our own Christmas morning together, and even had a few gifts for Asher. Again, probably due to denial and busy-ness, but I was able to mostly keep the sadness in check. Only got teary a few times about not having him here. But as far as pictures from our morning...none turned out very well, so I'll skip ahead to Christmas morning at my in-laws. Before church, the aunties let the kids open a couple stocking gifts. This turned out to be a brilliant plan. Sydney received a fancy black purse AND a bag of "real" make-up. Fortunately "real" means that it is not plastic, but it also means that it does not show up at all on skin. She. Was. Obsessed.

Syd took her make up in her new purse to church and it successfully distracted her for much of the service. She was very seriously doing her own make up and generously offering to do mine, Michelle's and Carson's. The bag came with a little stamp and even though it had no ink, she walked down the aisle stamping the backs of all of our hands.

Doesn't Aunt Shell's make-up look pretty?!

This is Uncle Chad, working his musical magic on the mini guitar. I just want to say the reason I have no pictures of Auntie Tara is that she had just worked an all night shift and was understandably not in the mood to be photographed. She was doing well just to be physically present.

More Auntie love! This is the adored Aunt Jess (married to Uncle Chad).

What six year old boy doesn't need Spy Glasses? The edges of the lenses are mirrors, so you can see behind you!

These are my wonderful in-laws!

Of course Bapaw Phil lets Sydney help him open his gifts.

This was a funny and memorable moment. Carson has been asking--no, begging!--for a set of drums. Michelle and Tara got them for him, but didn't put his name on the box. It was the last gift to be opened, and they handed it to Chad as though it was for him. Chad played the part well and was ECSTATIC about his new drums! Carson handled the competition well and fought for his precious drums! "No! They're for ME! They have to be for ME!"

He emerged victorious, and we stocked up on ear plugs and Excedrin.

I hope your Christmas was blessed as well!

Guilt-free blogging.

2011-12-12T08:47:00.000-08:00

I used to be that annoying friend who teased and guilted others when they would start a blog and then neglect it. Well, now I've become the neglector! And I've decided to let go of the guilt. I'm not giving up the blog, but I just don't think I'll update it as frequently as I used to. Right now I'm just in a season where I don't have time to write and the adoption is in a stage where I have nothing to write about. I still love writing. I still think several times a week about what a great story this or that would make. And I'm making a conscious effort to limit my commitments this spring to prepare for Asher's homecoming, so maybe I'll have more time to write--and something to write about. To, to sum up: don't write me off yet. And I'll try to give you a glimpse of some stuff that has been happening.

Life has just seemed to FLY by this fall. I was talking to someone the other day (which was what? a month ago?) and used that same phrase: "the other day" and realized the day in question was mid-August. I blinked and it was December. Which, to be honest, to a person who feels in a perpetual state of waiting, that's not a horrible thing.

Speaking of waiting, it's no secret that the wait is getting longer and harder than we ever anticipated. All of us Thai mamas are dealing with it differently. Strangely, it seems that a shopping trip to Target that ends in grief-stricken tears has become a right-of passage for many. My coping method du jour is total detachment. As I just told my friend Jessica, when people ask me how the adoption is going I just kind of shrug and stare blankly with a dead smile. I might try to explain 1st approval and how it's a really important paper that comes from Thailand, but that the people "in front of us" in line still haven't received theirs, so I have no earthly idea when ours will come. But mostly I just give some pithy cliche about worth the wait. Lately, it's been feeling not very real...like I'm playing a strange online game and downloaded a picture of cute little chubby Asian baby. I'm sure some psychology major would tell me that I'm in denial, b/c the pain of acknowledging that my child is on the other side of the world being cared for by someone else and I have no idea when I'll get to see and hold him is too painful to face.
*
Another big deal around here this fall was that my husband accomplished a long-time goal of running a 50 mile ultra marathon. Yep. You read that correctly! He ran 50 miles in one day. Straight. Went to the bathroom once. Never sat down. It took him about 9 hours and 45 minutes. He's been training with amazing discipline for months, but had never ran farther than 32 miles prior to the race. (I know...it takes a crazy situation to be implying that running 32 miles is not that far.) We were nervous about the weather and how his mind and body would hold up under such incredible stress. But he did it! I was so proud of him. We both agree that his success is largely due to his support team. Three of his closest friends, Mike, Eric and Jim (who was the leader of the support team), came and spent all day with no other focus than helping Trent succeed. Jim set up a literal base camp with all forms of calories, hydration and first aid. The race was set up int he shape of a Q. It started at the tip of the tail, and the runners had to go around 8 times, each time going all the way back to the starting line. The support tent was set up right where the runners left to the loop, so every hour and fifteen minutes or so, Trent would go by us twice in 10 minutes. One of the guys would run out to him, run or walk along with him and see how he was doing, take his water bottles and ask what food sounded good. When he said nothing sounded good, they forced him to eat anyway. As he walked to the tip of the Q tail to turn around (following me?), they would quickly refill bottles and warm up soup broth on the camp stove, while discussing Trent's current mental health (which was spotty around lap 5). Then, for the last 3 loops, one of the guys ran with him the whole time for moral support. It was an amazing and humbling act of friendship to see. I get a little choked up just thinking about it!

* The other big and exciting thing that happened in the last month, is that I. Joined. Pinterest. I've known about Pinterest for a long time, but had refused to join, because I was afraid it would be an internet worm hole that sucked my time. And I was exactly right. If you don't know, Pinterest is basically your very own online bulletin board. You have different categories of boards (the ones I use most are crafty, decorating or recipe-based) and when you want to bookmark a webpage, you "pin it." You choose a jpg from that page to represent that page and it saves it for you on your bulletin board. Then, at any time you can go to your board, click on the pin and be taken to the original web page. You can also "follow" friends who are on Pinterest and see what they've been pinning. It's completely enjoyable and total eye-candy for me. But, in my defense of the hours I've already spent on the site (pretty much replacing blog time for me), I've tried at least a half dozen new dinner recipes, and have made (or started) as many crafty projects. It has been completely inspirational and motivated me to actually get off the computer and DO things. I don't have a lot of pictures yet, but here is a picture of my Pinterest inspired Christmas countdown advent calendar:

I used the paper boxes we've had for a couple years, cut some branches from my back yard and used a 50% off coupon to get that tin jar for $4. Win!

I will try to blog about how our Christmas countdown has changed for the better this year, but no promises. And no guilt!

OK, Let's Talk Thailand

2011-11-19T08:10:00.001-08:00

Warning--major spiritual content ahead. ;)

I haven't thought about the blog, or read any other blogs for about 2 weeks. As I mentioned in the previous post (that was a repeat and I'm not sure anyone read) I was on a small team which coordinated our women's conference last weekend, and it consumed me--mind and body--for a good 2 weeks. Then afterwards I was completely braindead. And if I'm completely honest? I allowed myself to be sucked into the distraction. There was some level of selfish self-preservation to be thinking all day about something else--something about which there were MANY tasks to be done, rather than be thinking all day about Thailand, Asher and a situation about which there is NOTHING to be done. I long for the day when I can be exhausted caring for the needs of a one year old, but caring for the needs of 230 women was a diverting substitute for a while!

One thing I really appreciate is that the people in my life have not put Asher out of their hearts and minds, and they have not let me do so either. I have received numerous inquiries on updates, dozens of encouraging notes and words, special Scripture verses that were plucked out of the Word and chosen just for my son and for me, and even powerful songs of hope that my friends have reminded me of in a challenging time. Here's an excerpt of one of those powerful verses:

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior....You are precious and honored in my sight, and I love you. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. I will bring your children from the east and gather you from the west. I will bring my sons and daughters from the ends of the earth--everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made." Isaiah 43: 2-6

Now I realize that it is taken out of context, and I left out a couple verses, but that part about gathering children from the east? Bringing sons and daughters from the ends of the earth? Protecting us from the rivers and waters? Yeah. Powerful stuff, that. I'm trusting that God is ok with me taking solace from his Word, even if Isaiah wasn't really writing about adopting an Asian child. :) It reminds me that Asher was created for His glory! A dear friend has dedicated this verse to Asher, and I'll never forget it.

Another friend of mine, whom I haven't seen in years, but with whom I have a musical background, reminded me of a song I also hadn't heard in years. In the midst of my worry and anxiety, she reminded me of these simple words that gave me such freedom:

"Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus! Just to take Him at His word. Just to rest upon His promise, just to know 'Thus saith the Lord.' Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I've proved Him o'er and o'er. Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus! Oh, for grace to trust Him more."

I read somewhere that refusing to forgive is like drinking poison and hoping it will kill your enemy. I think there should be some sort of witty cliche about worry and fret, that it will accomplish nothing but while you're worrying about everything else you'll give yourself an ulcer. I'm still working on how to make that short and pithy. ;) When I sang that song, I truly did experience a lightening of my heart. I was reminded that He has proved faithful over and over. I experienced that sweetness that comes from surrending to the God who is in control, who knows my son and his circumstances, and the promise He will never leave or forsake us.

Even just this week when I was at Bible study, we were going around the table talking about the different names of God in the Old Testament and how we see those aspects of God in our lives today, I just didn't want to share (which is unheard of for me, the blabbermouth) because I was tired of talking about this and crying. And yet two of my friends answered for me. He is Jehovah-Shammah, "the God who is there." He is Jehovah-Shalom, "The Lord who is peace." And the one that really set me off, He is El-Roi, "the God who sees." The thought that sends me into a tizzy more than any other is the fact that I don't know where my son is. I don't know where he's living, what kind of conditions he's in, even what city he's in. He's in a (possibly literal) sea of hurting people who are all trying to just make it through this disaster, and I worry that no one there will take as good of care of him as I would. That he'll get lost in that sea (not necessarily literally, but figuratively). And yet MY GOD IS THE GOD WHO SEES ASHER. He knows the exact latitude and longitude where Asher laid his head last night. He knows who is holding him and giving him one of those 8 daily bottles this very moment. He knows when he is hungry and thirsty, when his diaper needs changing and when he is unsettled or sad. I believe this with my whole heart and soul and it gives me a peace when I can just TRUST HIM to care for my son.

Usually Thailand in November is a celebration. The Loi Krathong festival is right about now. I haven't seen a lot of news updates on how the flooding has affected the festival, but some Thai-mama friends found a video of the celebration from last year. If you've seen the movie Tangled (and if you haven't--go rent it RIGHT NOW!) you know the scene in the movie where they release floating lanterns each year to celebrate the lost princess. That scene was based on a Thai tradition during Loi Krathong. My friend Angie so rightfully saw these lanterns and it reminded her of their lost princess, who should have been home by now. To me, this beautiful scene represents the beauty of Thailand and the hope that is there. I believe the country will rebound and recover, and will experience victory over adversity. And I have hope and TRUST that our memory of Asher's time in Thailand will be that he was loved and cared for, and his connection to his homeland will be strong and positive.

As far as updates go, our agency still has hope that we will receive 1st approval as early as January. Normally travel would follow within 8-12 weeks. However, I'm not as optimistic about January, because the families who received referrals last March (ours was June) still don't have 1st approval. Also, the Thai government usually only has 2 court dates a month, at which time they only schedule 3-4 families to be there in person to receive custody. All the families that were supposed to travel and have court dates this fall have been postponed to spring, which means that there will be a backlog of families ready and waiting for Thai courtdates. Our prayer right now is that the Thai government will increase the number of courtdates per month, or allow several more families per month to travel. It is possible that April is still our month to travel--but we are not holding our breath.

Repost--the first 3 year old.

2011-11-08T22:12:00.000-08:00

Oh, wow! I just remembered something. I HAVE A BLOG. My life has been taken over by a women's retreat, which will sound really crazy to any of you who have not been to one or helped coordinate one. No time to explain. I randomly clicked on an archived post and found it amusing, so I'm gonna repost. It's from the days when I had a new 3 year old and a 4 month old--October of 2008. Enjoy!

OK, seriously, my son cracks me up. I can't even remember all the funny things he says. I'm loving this part of 3 years old. Lots of talking and conversation all day. Except this conversation that happens a lot. Imagine me doing the dishes and Carson talking but also kind of gazing off, not exactly sure of what he wants to say:

C: Mom?

M: Hmmm?

C: Mom?

M:Yes?

C: Mom?

M: WHAT, Carson?

C: Mom?

M: I'M LISTENING CARSON. WHAT DO YOU NEED?

This one is a classic, though. It happened last week:

C: Mom, Sydney can stay for just a little bit.

M: What do you mean?

C: She can stay, but only for a little bit.

M: You mean stay on my lap or stay in our house?

C: Stay here in our house. Just for a little bit. Then she has to go back.

M: Go back where?

C: To the doctor.

But this one made me happy. At least I know he's listening! Just now, C and hubby are wrestling on the bed. I hear this:

C: Daddy! Don't do that! You are making a choice! Make a good choice!

Also, I have a new revelation. For three years I have studied, shopped, researched, interviewed and longed for The Toy. You know, that elusive Toy that would fill the void in my child's life. The Toy that would beckon to him all day long. The Toy that would keep him entertained WHILST educating him for hours on end. We have a bedroom full of toys, but not The Toy.
Turns out, the equivalent to The Toy was here all along: in his head. His imagination starting shaping last year but it has multiplied exponentially in the last month. It is absolutely filling our days.

One frequent game in our house stems from the doctor's kit he got for his birthday. First we examined each other back and forth, multiple times a day. Then I added the element of a clip board, and when I was the doc, I asked him questions about height, weight, ailment, etc. and wrote the answer down. This caught his attention, and then he was not to be seen all day without the clipboard and a crayon, asking me all kinds of personal questions and "writing" the answer down. (I don't think he spelled "none of your business" correctly.) But one time, I asked about his family and if he had any pets. THIS then morphed into the clipboard interview about all of his animals and then my animals. And people, there are a lot of animals. C-dog is not super confident on all his letters, but he KNOWS his animals. (Ironic, since I'm not exactly a member of PETA.) He told me all about his mouse, elephant, dog, fish, lion, meerkat, hamster, racoon, dolphin, tiger, giraffe, beetle, etc. They all have names, but often the names are of characters from the last movie or TV show he watched, or whatever phonetical sounds come flowing out of his mouth. Yesterday there were several animals named Lurla or Choolee.
NOW the imaginary animals have taken the form of the stereotypical imaginary friend/animals. He has a bunny, a cat and 2 dogs that have been consistently with us (and I mean CONSISTENTLY--Target? check. Bathtime? check. Dinner? check.) for 2 days. Cute? Sure, for a while. But at nap time yesterday, I hear this:

"Mom! MOM! Hurry, MOM! THE DOOR'S CLOSED AND MY BUNNY CAN'T GET OUT! HE HAS TO GO POTTY! DO YOU HEAR ME? HURRY!!!"

Sigh. I gave in and opened the door for the bunny to pee. Then:

"MOM! The bunny can't get back in! LET MY BUNNY BACK IN!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I really don't mind that all my tupperware has been spread out all day because, evidently, this cat, 2 dogs and bunny are quite hungry. He feeds them approximately every 10 minutes. But when I'm trying to calm a crying baby and he asks me to feed them, and I pour "food" into all the bowls, he had a total meltdown because I gave dog food to the cat. I'm totally serious. I'm even kind of embarassed to tell you about the bed I made for the dogs in the car so we could leave the garage.

Wanna know my little secret to keeping my sanity? I convinced him to name the cat Monica, one of the dogs Chandler and the bunny Rachel. It makes me giggle every time. ;)

Comic relief.

2011-10-31T21:21:00.000-07:00

We need a change of pace on this here blog. So instead of continuing to lament our adoption status, I'm going to publish a guest post I wrote for Natalie in August. It was some serious comic gold, not to mention horribly embarrassing for me, and I'm just not sure how many of you went over to read it. I feel like a few of you might have mentioned it to me the next time we were in close quarters--with some jesting involved. See, Natalie suggested I write a story about an awkward moment.

Then my problem became: where to begin? My number of embarrassing and awkward moments has increased exponentially since I became a mother. Should I write about when I took my 2 week old to the grocery store and my fragile bladder control failed me? Or when I was singing on stage at church and my nursing boobs started leaking? Or when my daughter projectile vomited on the shoes of a woman in front of us—also at the grocery store? Huh. I’m noticing many of my moments have to do with bodily fluids. And grocery stores. I hope you find these amusing, because my vault of funny is deep with blood, urine, snot, feces, spit-up and puke. Barrel of laughs, right?!?

But I’ll let you in on a little secret…these are easier to share, because I totally blame it on the kids! The REAL humiliation is when the moment has nothing to do with having given birth or a person under age 10 who doesn’t know any better. So, in honor of Natalie’s Awkward and Awesome, I’ll just cut to the chase and share a couple doozies.

Several years ago I worked at a church office. If we needed to make copies or use the shared printer, we had to walk down the hall to a small copy room. No biggie. One afternoon, I was waiting for a particularly LONG printing/collating/stapling job, and my Mexican food lunch (Who are we kidding? I was young and broke. I’m sure it was Taco Bell.) was, let’s just say it was settling uncomfortably in my lower GI. In my innocence, I figured that being alone in this room for a good 10 minutes was a perfect place to—why am I having such a hard time writing this?—to PASS GAS, people. I tooted, alright?! There. I said it.
It took about 2 seconds for me to realize the ignorance of my ways. A SMALL room, with only ONE door? Oh, sweet, innocent, stupid early-twenties Me. What did I think was going to happen when one of the pastors walked in RIGHT THEN? Blame it on…the copy machine? The non-existent “other” person who couldn’t have just left, because he would have seen them leaving the room? My stinky toddler who wouldn’t be born for another 4 years? Nope. Nothin’ doing. Just smile, laugh uncomfortably, and GET THE HECK OUT OF THERE. Abandon the collating 1 to 2 sided copies. And never speak of it again for approximately 9 years, at which time you will share it publicly for all the world. So, yes, Pastor Tom, if you are reading this…IT WAS ME, OK? I admit it. Stop haunting my dreams with that look of disgust.

I swear I don’t have stomach issues. I’m mostly a person with mastery over my gas. But I will share one more embarrassing moment, knowing full-well you’ll all start recommending I be checked for IBS. Many moons later, I was in the grocery store (see what I mean?) with a 1 and 4 year old and—having learned my lesson—was in a very well-ventilated, large and open aisle, perfect for a quick getaway. There were 2 other groups of people in this long aisle, but they were down by the frozen pizzas and I was still at popsicles. I gently let out a teeny-tiny little whiff as I was walking. I didn’t factor in the fact that my loud-mouth preschooler has a nose that is right about the height of my rear-end.

“MOM! YOUR BOTTOM IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO STINKY!!!” Heads turn. Brows raise. Chuckles are unsuccessfully hidden. “Oh! Heehee! Aren’t you a little silly! You must be smelling the…the…cheese aisle. Or Sydney’s diaper! YES! That’s it! Your sister’s diaper! What a funny little man you are!” Then secretly I grab his funny little arm and walk quickly away towards the register, telling him under my breath to shut his adorable little trap.

So, you know, lesson learned by moi. Get in control of your sphincter already, girl. Public gas-passing is a risky, risky business, better left to the professionals—whom I’m assuming are middle school boys, frat boys, and pretty much just boys of all ages who don’t care if someone smells their farts. And apparently I should avoid grocery stores. Can someone back me up when I explain to my husband that I can’t do the shopping anymore?

Low point.

2011-10-25T12:28:00.000-07:00

I've been procrastinating writing this post. Partly because it's sad and difficult. Partly because several of my Thai-adopt friends have said it and said it well. (See Thai blogs on the right.) But several people have asked what the scoop is, and I realize that although it's big news in our little adoption world, that doesn't mean everyone is "in the know."

The flooding in Thailand is severe. The water levels are not receding. In fact, the flooding is spreading to Bangkok, the capital city, the place to which many families had already evacuated. This article today does not paint a pretty picture of the devastation. 2.5 million people disrupted, 113,000 in shelters and at least 366 dead. The damages are estimated at over 10 billion US dollars--that's billion with a B.

And our little boy is there. Somewhere. These pictures were sent from the social workers in Thailand. They did not clarify if any of these homes were actual Holt foster family homes.

I'll try to summarize the information that we have received. First, it's important to understand the vast responsibility on the shoulders of our sister agency. Holt Sahathai Foundation (HSF) has approximately 70 foster families affected by the floods. In each of these homes is a child for which they are responsible, and a foster family to whom they have promised support. These children range from newborns recently relinquished to those toddlers who were supposed to come home to their adoptive families within the next few weeks. In addition to those families, HSF also has a large program for Family Preservation. They work to support and rehabilitate birth mothers who are not able to take custody of their newborns at birth, but who would like to do so in the future. HSF then supports BOTH the birth mother AND the foster family caring temporarily for the child. (One US family who traveled to bring home their kiddo said the foster mother had cared for 10 children, and 8 of them had been reunited with their birth mothers!) Our update said that 105 families in this program have been affected by the flood. HSF is providing food and supplies and shelter to all of the families that need it. These staggering numbers are why the HSF social workers (especially the precious few that speak English) do not have time to detail out for all of us just precisely where and how our babes are right now.

HSF drafted a spreadsheet outlining the number of foster families and the severity to which they have been affected. The majority fall under 2 categories. First, 18 homes were so severely flooded that they were no longer liveable. These families are living with relatives or in shelters. 33 foster family homes are flooded UP TO THE second floor. The families have created a living area on the upper level and supplies and food are being brought to them by boat on a weekly or bi-weekly level. In our original paperwork, Asher's foster home was described as a 2 level home, the first level being where the daily activities took place and the second level housed the sleeping quarters. So, at night, I lay awake picturing Asher with his foster family (mom, dad, grandma and sisters age 7 and 10), stranded in their bedrooms, looking out at an ocean of muddy water, waiting for rice, water and formula to be delivered. I don't know for sure if this is the case, but it's a picture I can't get out of my mind.

Of course for those of us whose spring travel dates were tentative at best, we could assume this was not good news for our progress. But the worst blow came last Wednesday, when a dear friend --who had already experienced major delays in their process--had been told at the beginning of last week that the wait was coming to an end! They had a court date for December 1st and would finally be united with their daughter and have her home for Christmas. That means they would be buying tickets and seeing their daughter within a few short weeks! The very next day they were told that due to the floods, they should not plan to travel to Thailand until February. We all grieved for them...it was a difficult day after such celebration. This family received a referral 6 months prior to ours. It's anyone's guess as to what this means for others in the program, including our family. The initial estimate is to add 2 months from previously estimated dates, which for us might mean June.

But as I look at this picture below--I don't know with certainty, but I choose to think it is a Holt babe with his foster family--I have to remind myself that it is not about ME. I'm sad--really sad--about how long this process is taking. I'm feeling frustrated and down that I won't get to have him in my arms for a long time. But my main concern is for my son. I'm stressed about if and how this disaster will affect him emotionally--how it will affect his foster family relationship and level of care. I have to continually remind myself that although I do believe it is in his best interest to begin his chapter of life in the US as soon as possible, it might not be in his best interest to rush the transition in the midst of crisis. Trent and I like to daydream about what it would be like if we got a call and said "Get on a plane tomorrow, they're granting visas to all the kiddos." We'd be in those airline seats! But a rushed custody transfer would be one trauma on the heels of another, well, if not "trauma" then certainly a stressful living situation that he is currently in.

This summer after our referral, I think I was at the apex of my adoption high. "We have a baby! He's gorgeous and he's mine! Everything is going according to plan. We've almost fully funded! Yes, it takes a long time, but the process is following the precise timeline laid out for us."

Well, that timeline has disolved and with it my cheery adoption outlook. This is not fun. This is hard. Someone watching our process might see how hard it is and decide not to adopt, which depresses me even more. I'm trying to keep my focus on the situation in Thailand and not let myself wallow too much in self-pity, since I'm sitting here in my secure, dry home. This is just another layer in the DEEP ways that the Lord is teaching me through this process. Surrendering control time and time again, and choosing to trust. Hoping that some good news is just around the corner...for the people of Thailand and for those of us on the other side of the world whose hearts are in the flood.

If you would like to donate directly to the fund that will rebuild and repair HSF foster family homes click HERE or see info about texting below.

Say WHAT?!

2011-10-17T20:55:00.000-07:00

I've always had a sarcastic reflex. It's like a gag-reflex--it's taken years for me to realize that I do actually have some control over it, but still, it's a natural instinct. In truth, I don't remember even realizing it might not be a barrel of laughs to everyone around me until my new husband (of about 6 months) was not laughing after I mocked him with some witty jab. It could have been any number of times I told him that his stories of physical therapy class were "simply riveting!  Tell me more about the muscles of the lower leg, Dearest!"  Or the time I excitedly told him about this new invention called running water, and that he should see if it works to rinse off his dishes. And if really wanted to get crazy, I could introduce him to this newfangled contraption called the dishwasher. He looked at me without a trace of amusement and told me to lay off the sarcasm.  Not that funny to him. Huh. Interesting.

Reigning in my tongue is a lifelong learning process...I doubt I'll ever master it. Sometimes, the target is just too easy--or maybe I'm just too easily annoyed.  People on reality shows...whether it be of the talent, island-survival or weight-loss genre--are often subject to my sarcastic criticism. "Really, CHAZ? Is it really LIFE or DEATH? You mean this moment where you're going to sing a pop song--could mean you cease living? Really? You wanna re-think that statement?" "Gee, thanks, Jillian! I never realized that EXTRA CHEWING GUM was low in calories and a great post-workout snack! I also never realized that product placement could be so awkward and unnatural!" "Wow, Chris, this really IS the most dramatic rose ceremony EVER!"

I thought for sure that I had been getting better at keeping my speech positive and uplifting, especially during the kids' waking hours. (Previously mentioned reality show rants always happen after hours.) Carson does know what sarcasm is by name and calls me out on it. Like when he says "Mom!  Sydney's lid came off and she spilled milk all over the floor!" and I say "Awesome." He informs me that I don't really think it is awesome, but that I'm being sarcastic. To which I reply: "Yes, you're a real genius."

But a few signs have crept up and subtlety hinted that maybe the smart-@$$ doesn't fall far from the tree. And by "subtlety hinted" I mean shot up red flags that my oldest child is on the fast track to being a cynical character from a quick-talking teen dramedy on FOX who wears ironic vintage t-shirts.

Here's a few examples. We were laying on his bed at night, and we usually read 3 books or one chapter in a longer book. I was especially exhausted and just grabbed a few that were on the floor near the bed. He complained we had read them recently, and I said that he was welcome to go get more books, but I was tired and these were closeby. He grew frustrated and said they were "close by" because I always just "throw his books on the floor" and he has to clean them up. (Not true.) I calmly asked if he could think of a solution to our problem (my solution: you could get up and get some new books if you want them so bad) and he said, with full head-wag and eyebrows raised: "Uh, yeah, you could walk, like, FIVE FEET and put them away when you're done."

WHOA. EXCUSE ME?! We nipped that in the bud with some serious reality checks on how that is rude and disrespectful and also: HELLO!?! Am I reading Curious George Goes Camping for my own benefit? Is it my responsibility to keep the circulation up on the books? You think I wait all day to see what actually happens If You Give a Mouse a freaking Cookie?

Hmmmm. OK. That right there might be where he gets it. I promise I didn't actually say all those things to him, but I wanted to.

Another moment was not directed at me, but was still disconcerting. We were in the car and I was listening to a voicemail on speakerphone. I'll admit, it was a rather long message. To nobody in particular, Carson says: "Sheesh. What are you gonna do? TALK us to DEATH?!" That one, since he didn't know the person leaving the message, took me a minute to reprimand, because I was chuckling to myself just a teensy bit. But then I did manage to tell him that was disrespectful and that he should not ever speak that way.

These two in close proximity, followed the next day by his well-timed and expertly delivered "DUH!" (seriously--it was scary good. I know 13 year old girls from 1991 who would have given him props) were enough to guilt me into my own reality check. In theory, as an adult I have a better handle on when sarcasm and mockery are called for and when they are hurtful and/or completely inappropriate. Hey--I said "in theory." But this witty tool can also be a dangerous weapon, one that I don't want in the hands (or mouths) of my children! It's ironic, because I'm actually very conscious of trying to make positive statements about people in Carson's life...from the guy pumping our gas to the kid in his class who doesn't listen to his little sister. I specifically try to model graciousness to everyone we encounter--particularly in public. However, I'm wondering if my guard is dropped when I'm with people I'm most comfortable with--the ones I love the most! These little rude-awakening moments have been a good dose of my own medicine to help me regain focus on the goal of setting a good example with actions AND words.

And I feel confident that I'll be able to get a grip on that! I mean, I've completely mastered all other areas of parenting.*

*Yes, that's sarcasm. You're a real genius.

King over the flood.

2011-10-14T10:15:00.000-07:00

Several people have asked about the flooding in Thailand and what we know and what it means. The answers are brief. We know that it is pretty bad. Monsoons and typhoons have caused the worst flooding in decades...affecting two-thirds of Thailand. THIS ARTICLE gives you an idea of how bad...and it's a few days old, so there may be newer updates by now. We know that Asher and his foster family are safe, but they have been evacuated--as have all foster families in that area. The official quote from our agency was that the floods have "severely affected" all the foster families in the Ayutthaya district, which is where Asher and many of our friends' children are living. We don't know where they are now, and we don't know how long. I'm assuming somewhere in Bangkok, which is one of the only areas yet to be flooded. We know that Holt Sahathai, our sister agency in Thailand, is providing safe housing and relief support to the families--almost 80 families. I'm sure this is a huge task for them to support the Thai families and know how worried the adoptive families are as well. We don't know if their homes are still standing, or how badly damaged they are. We don't know if his foster family was able to save any of the things or pictures we have sent to Asher. We don't know how this will emotionally affect our son or his foster family. We don't know if or when his foster family will be able to return to their home. WE DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS FOR OUR ADOPTION PROCESS. Several people have asked if this could be a way for Asher to come home sooner. In all honesty, I cannot foresee how that would happen. If anything, I'm afraid the stress of a natural disaster on the entire country will slow down government paperwork, not speed it up.

Here's what we know--what we are clinging to. (Sorry if this is too "spiritual spice" for some of my readers!) Our heavenly Father is not surprised by this flood. I don't know why He is allowing it to happen, or why He allows so many devastating things to happen on this earth. He never promised life would be easy and safe. "In this world you will have trouble..." But I know that He has promised to never leave me or forsake me--or my son. My God loves Asher even more than I do. A silly little Christian cliche that I've seen over people's bathroom sinks comes to mind...and in this moment it doesn't sound silly to me. "Sometimes God calms the storm. Sometimes He lets the storm rage and calms His child." Bumper sticker theology? Maybe. But right now there's a storm across the ocean that if affecting my family, and I need some calmin'.

For most of the past 2 weeks I've felt a little numb about the situation. I have kind of put it out of my mind in a move of self-preservation. Of course, that can only last so long. A few days ago I was driving and listening to my tunes and heard a song that I've heard and sung dozens of times. But I heard it with new ears.

"When the oceans rise and thunders roar, I will soar with You above the storm. Father You are KING OVER THE FLOOD. I will be still and know You are God."

"I see a bwown beya yookin at me."

2011-10-11T21:39:00.000-07:00

My sweet Sydney has been driving me BONKERS lately. I don't know if she's not feeling well or what, but she's been a needy, clingy whiny, hot mess all the livelong day. But she still has some ridiculously sweet moments, like the one below. Her language is delayed, so we've been working with her, gently correcting, ENUNCIATING our words clearly, and lots of reading books. She has a few favorites, and this one she can read/recite on her own. I think she got a little nervous with the camera on, b/c she usually doesn't mix up the colors, but still: this is crazy cute.

The 411 on those weird parents of his.

2011-10-09T09:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we spent several hours at an adoption training workshop. We are required to complete a certain amount of hours of training prior to bringing Asher home. I don't really know if this is a Holt requirement or a state or federal requirement, but it doesn't matter, because it's a just a good idea. It's been divided up into 3 full days of seminars with other couples, and this was our last "module." It was focused on recognizing and parenting a child who has experienced loss and/or trauma. The themes were definitely drilled into our head in a concrete way. If I could summarize the training in one sentence, it would be this: in many ways, adopted children need to be parented differently than bio children.

Throughout the workshop, we talked about a variety of situations that may affect our adopted children. In the room we had families adopting from Korea, Thailand, Ethiopia, and China. One family also has a preschooler adopted from Vietnam. Some of the kiddos are in orphanages, others in foster families.  I think all of them will come home between the ages of 13 and 22 months. I appreciated the social worker facilitating our class, because she wasn't touchy-feely about grief and loss. At no time did she convey pity towards our children. But she was completely frank that being separated from everything these children recognize as normal and safe (even into a new, loving home) will be a life-changing trauma--one that will affect their psyche in deep and potentially unknown ways. In addition, we are not fully able to understand or know the details about their care in the first year, and how that may also play into their behavior and emotions.

Now, just like a first-time-pregnant woman cannot possibly be a parenting expert, I do not share this info because I have all the answers. On the contrary, I'm rather intimidated by the unknowns and anxious about making parenting decisions for Asher, especially as he transitions home. You experienced adoptive parents may have thoughts and experiences that differ from our expectations and the information I'm conveying, but we are trying to prepare with due diligence for all possibilities--and help prepare our families as well.  We are always open to hearing ideas and stories that vary from the textbook norm. One thing that I have heard frequently is that it is difficult for people who have only dealt with biological, securely attached children to understand the strange choices made by adoptive parents! One adoptive mother called it "upside down" parenting.  We have been encouraged to share the concepts and theories that we are learning and will most likely implement, so that our close friends and family will better grasp the choices we will make in the best interest of Asher. This may be old news for you or totally foreign. I'm not going to be academic and quote sources, just paraphrase what we've learned from books, stories and seminars. Even though Asher won't be home for many months, I'm writing this now while it's fresh in my mind.

Here are just a few examples we are anticipating. We've heard many times that grief in a toddler will often manifest itself at night--Asher will very likely have trouble sleeping in a new place, with new people, waking up and wondering where he is. Even when he knows us and is getting comfortable with us, he may still grieve for his foster mother. Things are always worse at night, right? I think that even as an adult! Many families in Thailand sleep as a family on a single low mattress on the ground. We will probably experiment with co-sleeping with Asher--whether that means in bed with us, a crib adjacent to our bed...we don't know yet. We plan to continue waking up and comforting Asher in the night when he cries...even after he's been home several months, when we are sleep-deprived and just wishing he would learn to self-soothe. Research shows that letting an adopted child "cry it out" can do serious harm to the attachment cycle of parent and child. He needs to TRUST that we will be there to meet his needs and calm his fears. We did some sleep-training with both of our older kids at different times and had to let them cry it out--especially when they got to be toddlers. And we've never been co-sleepers! So that will be an adjustment for all of us. I also have no idea how we're going to deal with the fact that he's clearly bottle-fed--a LOT. Some families ween the toddler immediately to sippy cups, and other families continue a few bottles for comfort and the fact that feeding them a bottle is an opportunity for physical snuggling and eye-contact. We'll have to feel that one out when we get there!

Another very important aspect of bringing home an adopted toddler is the need to attach and bond with his father and mother. We have a very close extended family who are involved in our daily lives--this is a good thing! We want Asher to recognize and bond with them too. But first and foremost, he must understand that I am his mom--now and forever.  Trent is his Daddy. This is his last transition. No one else will be coming to take him away again. We will be the ones to hold him, feed him, give him gifts, change him, comfort him--meet all his needs. If you can think about a one-year-old that you know...can you imagine taking him or her away from their family--and not bringing them back? Can you imagine how scared and upset they would be? We've read lots of different strategies that help with bonding and attachment....eye-contact games like peekaboo, lots of physical contact and baby carrying, and making sure that mom and dad are the only ones to meet Asher's needs (including comforting and holding) for the first several weeks. Oh, how I would LOVE to have a huge--HUGE--party when we get home with Asher! There are so many people who will want to meet him and if they could would just snuggle him like crazy! But, alas, we will not be doing anything like that. Maybe an airport greeting or something like that, but then we'll probably hunker down at our house for a while and find our new normal. We had two experienced adoptive parents talk with us yesterday, and they said that this experience is similar to coming home with a newborn--we will be brain dead, physically and emotionally exhausted. They both said the best gift people can give us is to bring dinner (and meet Asher in a small, low-pressure setting), or pay for house-cleaning! These moms also said that we will be able to tell when Asher is more ready to interact and be held by family members, and then slowly be introduced to our loving friends and church family. I'm sure every child is different and adjusts at different speeds.

Another interesting exercise we did yesterday was read through "vinyettes" taken from real-life post-placement situations. They were gathered by Holt's social workers in our state. They ran the gamut from sleep and eating issues with toddlers to bed-wetting and aggressive behaviors of older kids. (There was a lot of questions and discussions about potty-training a toddler from another culture! But that is a different post.) A discussion that resulted from this activity was to think about how to discipline an adopted toddler or preschooler. When one of my bio toddlers would take a toy or hit during playtime, I often put them in time out. But isolating a child who may still struggle with security and attachment could cause more emotional damage--and further negative behavior. Adoptive parents have to get creative on how they discipline--firmly, but in love and ever-mindful of the adopted child's complicated background. There's a word tossed around a lot, it's called a "time-in." If Asher is making bad choices, instead of sending him to his room, I might remove him from the situation and sit WITH him in his room. Or maybe just bring him with me to a chair in the next room and sit with him in my lap for a few minutes.

These are just a few examples of possible situations that might arise. The good news is that our research and also many, many stories from experienced adoptive parents (especially our friends in the Thailand program!) have told us that toddlers are resilient! They are often quick to adjust and bond with their new, loving families. The intense grieving does not usually last longer than weeks or a couple months. Soon enough, we anticipate having a happy, well-adjusted little boy going to playdates, sleepovers at grandma's house, enjoying preschool and Sunday school. Thank you all for your amazing support and understanding. I hope someday Asher can fathom the incredible number of people who were loving and waiting for him here at home!

Hold me over.

2011-09-30T13:56:00.000-07:00

Our "September Update" on Asher almost did not live up to its name. In fact, when we got an email today, we were told that the information we received is not the official pre-adoption child update--that will be coming soon. It had one picture and a short description of his social worker's check up with him. Holt Sahathai Foundation, which is Holt's partner agency in Bangkok, just transitions to a new database for their child management system (all children waiting to be matched, waiting to come home and also sponsored children who will hopefully stay with their bio families). In short, I don't understand all the details, but we got a picture! Just one so far, and hopefully the "official" update will come in a couple weeks with more (and better quality) pictures.

I'm gonna stick with the private blog for pictures....for now. Click HERE for the link that that one photo. The password is my maiden name, all lower case letters. If you don't know it but would like to see it, feel free to email me at brazenlilly@gmail.com or leave a comment with your email address. And I'll send you the background check information. Ha! I kid.

Asher's report says that he is very attached to his foster family, especially the mother. In fact, the social worker reports that his gross motor skills are slightly delayed because the foster mother "always helps him in all aspects." He can sit with minimal assistance and can stand while holding onto furniture. He has two lower teeth. :) The report says that he recognizes all of the foster family (mom, dad, 2 sisters, and a gma), and enjoys being held by all of them.

I can imagine my pediatric physical therapist of a husband can't wait to get his hands on a slightly delayed, very loved little man! I appreciate hearing these details, and imagining Asher being just loved on all the livelong day. Would I maybe do things differently than the foster mom? Probably. But how happy am I that a minor delay is because he is being doted upon? Very. Often times delays in adopted children have to do with NOT being held or stimulated enough! The social worker reported that she gave tips to the parents about how to help give Asher get down on the floor with more space to explore and increase his balance and strength. ;) She also suggested less bottles and more solid food.

These long-awaited reports have 2 affects on me. First, they make me giddy and more in love with my son! But second, they make me just a little sad because I want to be with him! To just grab that little body up out of that walker and snuggle his cheeks! But each report, and each month, and each day is a day closer to Asher's homecoming. When we finally meet him face to face, he probably won't be in the mood for cheek-snuggling just yet, but I'll settle for a stolen kiss on that semi-bald head. Please keep praying for the Thai government to catch up on all the adoption processing that was neglected during the hiatus this summer. Our April travel is not guaranteed, and more delays might just break my heart in two!

More dreams fulfilled.

2011-09-30T08:33:00.000-07:00

I am blessed with amazing in-laws. They are loving, godly, generous and kind. And they love their grandkids! My mother-in-law is definitely a girlie girl. Her favorite color is pink and she's a big fan of the manicure/pedicure. She knows the entire family tree and life story of her favorite nail salon workers. I'm not sure how many minutes or hours it was after we announced that our second child was a girl before she started dreaming of taking little Brazenlilly Babygirl to get all dolled up at the nail salon.

Well, that day finally arrived! With Carson having kindergarten every day, it opened up an opportunity for Mimi to have a special day with just Sydney. Their first stop? Mani-Pedi!

Mimi said that Sydney held VERY still throughout the whole ordeal (miracle) and she wouldn't say a word. Apparently, the workers were all smitten with this quiet and shy (haha) little redhead.

The end result was darling! I think Sydney thoroughly enjoyed her afternoon of pampering. And I'm pretty sure it will not be her last. I love that our soon-to-be middle child is the only girl, because it opens up some fun opportunities for special one-on-one time with the loving grown-ups in her life. Thanks, Mimi!

Livin a dream.

2011-09-27T09:27:00.000-07:00

The other day my mom asked how soccer season was going. This is Carson's first year in semi-competitive soccer club (meaning they actually have games against an opponent, not just camp, but they still don't keep score), and Trent is the coach. I told my mom that they are having fun and casually said that Trent was fulfilling a lifelong dream. She kind of chuckled, as though maybe I was being sarcastic. (It's been known to happen.) But I told her I was being totally serious: Trent has talked about being a soccer coach for his kids since before we were married and he was still a commitment-phobe college student. It literally was one of the first conversations we had after we found out we were pregnant. And the icing on the cake is: he's really, really good at it.

Being barely six, Carson doesn't show any prodigy-level skill or obsessive passion for the sport, but he's having fun goofing around with his friends.

Trent will be the first to point out that he is perhaps a little more...shall we say passionate? than some of the other coaches. He walks up and down the field during games giving encouragement and instruction.

And as five and six year olds are wont to do, they often ignore him.

But they're all having fun and the players' parents really appreciate Trent and he appreciates their involvement. The other day Carson came home with an Upward basketball brochure, which he's old enough to do this winter. Without missing a beat, Trent took one look and said "Oh yeah! Definitely! I want to coach you! We can do this, buddy." And I kind of raised my eyes, surprised at the lack of discussion over the decision. I said, "Is this how it's gonna be? We just jump from sport to sport and you coach and we spend our lives going to games and practices?"

And Trent's eyes lit up and with a huge grin he said "YEP!"

The force was strong with him.

2011-09-25T21:16:00.000-07:00

We did, indeed, celebrate Asher's birthday on Friday night. Here's some awkwardly posed self-timer shots with the camera propped up on the BBQ. Probably should have called a neighbor over. Or maybe I need a tripod for Christmas? Anyway, we ordered from our fave Thai place and had cupcakes.

Ignore the children's strange vacant stares and see if you can find the cupcake? Some friends and family surprised us with homemade cards and even gifts for Asher! (Not to pick favorites, but someone found a Thai lullaby book. I know!)

Then it was back to working on Carson's cake and party for Saturday. We knew it was going to be a busy week and really busy Saturday--so against Carson's wishes, I opted for yet another smallish family and "family" party, instead of inviting all his buddies. I wavered on this decision, but when the day arrived I was really glad. I was exhausted and glad it was a small and laid back group.

Of course, I put some effort into the cake. It's my thing! It was no pirate ship, that's for sure. Carson looked on Google images with me for a looooooong time and found a cake that I thought I could emulate in a amateurish version. It as my first time doing a full fondant covering on a cake, and I felt really happy when this step was finished:

The cake turned out to be a lot shorter than the one in the picture, so I didn't have room to put "Star Wars" on the side. Carson was bummed that aspect was missing, until he saw his very specifically requested action figure, General Grievous, was on top, and was told that he gets to keep it. To be totally honest, I don't even know who Grievous is. And also, yeah, those are light sabers on the cupcakes. Just...accept it.

This is the happy birthday boy posing with an imaginary light saber.

The one activity we planned and stuck with was stolen, er, borrowed from our friend Isaiah's party! The adults helped the young Jedi's make their own light sabers out of pipe insulation and colored duct tape. Thank goodness I sent Trent to buy the duct tape, because he and Carson knew exactly what colors to buy and which character uses which color.

This is my brother trying to act casual and not look at the camera.

Henry has taken lessons from the Carson School of Jedi Jazz Hands.

Remember I recently mentioned that I love when people don't take themselves too seriously? Case in point. Aunt Sarah, who is always gorgeous and put-together, came in Princess Leah buns for the occasion. Just to be fun and silly. I love it! Carson saw her and just started grinning! He told me later that he thought that was really cool. His exact words were "I saw Aunt Sarah and I was, like, 'Wow! Her hair looks like Princess Leah!'" We're working on weeding out the valley girl language.

My favorite memory of this moment was that Carson was singing Happy Birthday (to himself) at the top of his lungs, right along with everyone else. This is that innocence I mentioned in his birthday post!

Sometimes cousins can help blow out candles too.

Seriously? Seriously. How can you not love this girl? After this cupcake, she snuck around to the table and got ahold of another one. She gave it a nice big lick across the top before I noticed!

This was my favorite thing about the whole party. We chose a park with a rather lame playground, because it's fully fenced and not very popular! So the kids pretty much had the place to themselves and just ran around playing Star Wars as the sun set.

And some people enjoyed the cupcakes more than others.

I know this is blurry, but it totally cracks me up that this is how the girls were playing with the sabers: wrapping them around each other's necks and poofing up each others hair. If Carson saw this, he would greatly disapprove.

Feeling really grateful for my birthday boy and all the people who love him.

A bittersweet ONE

2011-09-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

The fact that I've been kind of dreading this day just reminds me of how different things are for a waiting parent. We should look forward to our children's birthdays, showering them with love and hugs, annoying them all day long with the shock and surprise at how fast they are growing, how well we remember them as babies. Of course this birthday DOES remind me of how fast Asher is growing--in a different home. I am confident that he is well taken care of, but today of all days that is just not enough to comfort this mama! Of course the pain is pretty sharp this morning, but we are also busy with his big brother's birthday celebrations, so fortunately I haven't had lots of time to wallow in my pity. We are having a small and purposeful celebration tonight (for Asher), partly for us and partly for the pictures to show him in years to come. And everytime I think of him today, I'm just saying a prayer that he feels loved and secure, that he is healthy and safe. (The flooding is still persistent in Thailand--but I'm kind of trying not to dwell on that.) And a common thread through my prayers is for quick and efficient government protocol so we can get to Thailand SOON!

The first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning was Asher's birth mother. I wonder if she is feeling weepy today too. This date is surely burned into her soul. It must feel like yesterday that she gave birth to him, named him, and made that agonizing hand off when he was 4 days old. I'm praying for her too. Our hearts are both aching today, I know. But my ache is one of longing and hope for the future. I hope she has a part of her ache that is sweet as well, knowing her choice for his life will bring him into a loving family who waits (sometimes) patiently to hold him and care for him until he is old and gray.

You should all know that part of what fills me up, part of what makes this wait manageable is knowing how incredibly loved our son already is! The outpouring of support and love for this little Thai baby none of us has ever met just melts me. I hope that someday his heart will grasp that vast, unconditional love that was waiting for him across the ocean. I know that I'm grasping it and feeling it today, and because of that I know I can get through it.

Happy first birthday, my precious, precious son!

How did this happen?

2011-09-21T21:17:00.000-07:00

His birthday is technically tomorrow, but I needed to post it tonight!

Oh, buddy. How did our little man, our firstborn, our Carcar turn SIX YEARS OLD? Wasn't I just waking up at night with you? (Actually, yes, you did wake me up in the middle of the night last night. We need to work on that. But at least you go back to sleep much more easily these days.)

I've learned so much and grown so much as a person since you came into my life..sometimes I feel like you teach me as much--if not more--than I teach you!

Carson, you are a special kid. There's just no two ways around it. Long before you could speak, you had a way of making your presence known and settled for no less than our full attention. And once you learned to talk....your personality just FLOURISHED!

You say and do the funniest and most frustrating things. Once, when you were four, you got mad at me, and the way you expressed your anger was to totally mutate my Wii avatar--you made me an amazon sized woman with a mullet, a mole, huge glasses and a mustache. Sometimes you are a little naughty genius! And of course, there's the infamous "locking mommy out of the house" story.

Right about the time this picture was taken, you and I went on a trip to California together. It was a pretty exhausting trip, bud. I'm not gonna lie. And as we were getting ready to board our last flight, I was letting you run off some energy in the airport, and you ran straight into the men's room. Full speed ahead. I had no other choice but to call out a warning and come in after you!

But that eager curiosity has led to some wonderful conversations about life, God, family, adoption, poop, death, stranger-danger, ear wax, color-blindness, prosthetic limbs, car engines, cowboys, recycling and many, many more topics.

In some ways, you seem very smart and mature to me. You have mastered the art of sarcasm. (But who are we kidding? You learned from the master.) There are a few movies and TV shows that we can actually watch together and both laugh at and enjoy! It's fun to play board games like Sequence and Uno and YOU CAN BEAT US!

You have your own sense of fashion, which varies by day. There are many days when you care a great deal about what you will wear, and other days when it only matters what feels soft against your skin. Yesterday you actually told me you couldn't wear a pair of jeans because you could only lift your knee up to your chest. I'm not sure exactly how much higher you were planning to lift those knees! The clothing thing is just an example of several ways that you and I kind of butt heads. We both have expectations of how things are going to be, and we both get frustrated when things don't go like we planned. I have a feeling we'll be figuring this out for years to come. But no matter what conflict or argument we have, no matter how many times I mess up and lose my cool, I hope I always make it clear to you that YOU are what is most important to me! My relationship with you is far more precious than any plans or ideas or opinions I have. And sometimes when I don't get my way, we get some special fashion moments like this one:

It would be detrimental for me to record this stage of your life without remarking on your passionate interest in Star Wars! You were casually interested in the series after playing the Lego/Star Wars video game, but your real excitement took root after you had Jedi training and fought Darth Vader at Disneyland earlier this year. What a special moment that was! Our lives have been filled with all things Jedi ever since.

I think one of my favorite things about you, Carson, is your innocence and excitement for life. As much as you are growing and learning and maturing, you still have moments when you are my little boy. You still want to snuggle on the couch on many nights, and still want me to read to you at night and lay down on your bed and sing you songs. I got to teach your Sunday School class a few weeks ago, and you were in the FRONT ROW, singing those songs at the top of your lungs, doing every single motion with all your heart. You may be a stinker at home sometimes, but you haven't reached that place where you act like you are too cool for us. I'm dreading that day, because I love being with you.

Recently a friend of mine shared that she had chosen life verses for her children. I can't believe I haven't thought of that sooner! But I'm kind of glad that it took me this long, because now I know you and your personality, more than I would have if I had chosen this at your birth. It took me only about 3 minutes to find the right verse. (Of course you can choose your own someday, but this will be mine for you.) Ever since we discovered that you have a will of iron, I have prayed for discernment for you. How will you use your charismatic personality and your leadership? My greatest wish is that you will know God and seek God, and that He will give you discernment. So this, my sweet, funny, smart and handsome boy, is the Scripture verse--actually verses-- that I have chosen for you, and I will pray it over you constantly. I know you may not fully understand it right now, but someday I believe you will.

Philippians 1:9-11

"And this is my prayer, that your love will abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best, and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ--to the glory and praise of God."

I love you forever, sweet boy!

"I survived the Warrior Dash!"

2011-09-15T14:02:00.000-07:00

That's what the t-shirts say, and that's what I say! The Dash (as those of us who know the course intimately can call it) was SO. AWESOME. I'm not kidding! Yes, it was hard. Yes, it was filthy muddy. Yes, the obstacles were crazy. Yes, I overexerted my out-of-shape-self into a very near vomit situation more than once. And yes, I will be one of the first to sign up again for next year! One of my favorite things in this world is to be with people who don't take themselves too seriously. This place was SWARMING with people who did not take themselves seriously. We were in the minority by not having a funky costume to race in. We saw lots of tutus (men and women), lots of kilts, and even a couple guys running in FULL business suits, including briefcases.

This photo-log is a combination of pictures from my mediocre camera, Mike and Jim's much-better-quality cameras, and pictures I got from the internet.

We got these stylish hats as part of our swag. These are the girls I ran/walked/hiked the course with. Tristan, Michelle and Kristen.

This picture cracks me up. We are so naive. So pumped with adrenaline. So clean.

The race starts out with a bang--our wave in particular, which was the first of the two day event. You run for about 20 yards on a steady flat trail, then there's a very intense hill. I don't remember seeing many people running up that. Almost everyone started walking immediately, save for a few annoying go-getters. To spice things up, the race organizers had failed to notice that the trail went right smack dab through a yellow jacket nest. We kept hearing people hooting and hollering in front of us, but I thought they were excited for a small downhill slope. Nope. They were being stung. Michelle and Kristen both got stung twice, as did Becky and Jenna in the next wave. We were still reeling from that fun surprise when we saw our first obstacle. The volunteer who was working this obstacle told us "Say goodbye to dry!"

It's called Deadweight Drifter. You have to wade into the pond (which we were promised would only be WAIST-HIGH, and clearly was deeper in most spots) and somehow get over all the floating logs. (click to enlarge for a better view.) This is a picture from another friend of our obstacle during a different wave. It was not that crowded when we were there, but getting over the logs was a huge challenge! No preparation was adequate for the feeling of just walking straight into a lake, fully clothed. The muddy floor of the water was randomly full of holes and hills, which was...interesting. To add insult to injury, Kristen got a deep scrape/shallow cut on her leg while hurdling the logs.

This isn't a picture from our race, but our next obstacle was similar to this. It's called Road Rage, and first you have a field of tires to hop through, then you climb over several wrecked out cars. This is interesting when the cars are wet and muddy from all the people who were ahead of us (so, lots of people) who were dripping from the lake. This was also the place where poor Kristen had to stop and talk to a medic to get her leg bandaged up.

This is the Warrior Wall. It was kind of intimidating. I'm not used to climbing a wall while holding onto a rope. But the most unnerving thing was at the top, when you straddle the wall and climb down the other side.

Here's Becky and Steph on the Warrior Wall! Woohoo!

This obstacle is called Rubber Ricochet, and by the time we got there, all the fast runners were ahead of us, and all the slow walkers were behind us, so we had the place to ourselves. It was not very difficult.

I wish I had a picture of the front of this next obstacle. This was not the Deadman's Drop from our race. First, that drop you see did not have a lovely step. Ours was just a big ol' wall of plywood. And the other side is another climbing situation, but the top had a very strange, rectangular thing that was leaning against the direction you're climbing. Being at the top of this was one of my least favorite moments, but Tristan and I talked each other through it. Then you grab the top of that wall with your fingers, hang down (we chose to face the wall) and slide down, hoping you don't get splinters on your face or your muffin top.

When we reached this obstacle--can't remember what it's called, but I call it over/under--the really fast, competitive people who started 30 minutes after us started catching up. So suddenly we had some very in-shape people crowding up in our space and getting irritated that we were in their way. I kind of pushed through this pretty quickly--you have several walls about 4 feet high to hurdle, and in between each one, you have to get on the ground and go under a barb-wire fence. Five of each, I think? Well, after this up/down/hurry situation, I entered what I call "The Vomit Zone" where I can't talk, can't run and can't hold still, or I was 100% sure I would toss my cookies right in the path of all those muscular guys on my tail. It lasted a few minutes, then I was able to walk it off. Whew!

There were a few more obstacle I didn't get a picture of, like one where you go up rickety, 3 foot-high "steps" and then slide down an equally-rickety fireman's pole. And also a few non-official obstacles, like when we got to a shallow ravine and everyone had to rappel backwards for 10 feet or so. THEN, we got to another Big Hill. It was a killer! I welcomed myself back into The Vomit Zone, even finding a designated puke tree, but somehow escaped without total dignity loss.

We had heard that the best way to cover this cargo net bridge called Chaotic Crossover was to roll. I tried that and it HURT! So I animal walked it like these folks here:

Soon we knew we were reaching the last portion of the course, b/c I saw our friends with their cameras. I remember hearing the guys cheer for me and it gave me a boost! Even though this cargo wall was high, there was so many places to hold on, it didn't seem difficult. Here's Tristan and me near the top.

I don't have a real picture of me doing the fire jump, but Sport Photo did. I tried to copy the link here, but it's not letting me. It's a good pic, but I'm too cheap to pay the $20 for a 5x7. Then we entered the last obstacle, the piece de resistance of the whole thing: the muddy mayhem. It's a huge, man-made mud puddle with barbed wire over it. You crawl through and are forced to get filthy. It's great!

I think this is a shot of Steph, Becky, Sarah and Jenna? It's hard to tell!

Tristan and I making our way through...

At the finish line! We did it!

Here's me with the BCC crew...the ones who talked me into this crazy idea.

I was trying to get a picture of my chip, which was crazy disgusting. This was after I "washed off." The Dash people have a huge pile of yucky shoes where you can donate your shoes to be cleaned and given away to charities. The socks went in the garbage.

By the time we finished, Kristen's cut didn't look great--and was covered in mud! So she stopped to have it cleaned up a bit. And her and Michelle's bee stings were getting really sore! They are true warriors.

All participants get a free beer and we splurged and got a huge turkey leg. Just look at that thing! We couldn't resist. But in truth, I really wanted this picture. I don't like beer and the turkey leg was mostly salty turkey skin and fat. I gave the beer away and tossed the rest of the leg.

This might be my favorite shot of the day. We were mostly divided between 2 waves all day, but we all "washed off" together in the lake at the end. I could tell the husbands were rolling their eyes at our dramatic, girlie talk as we relived the race while standing in muddy water. But we were all pretty darn proud of ourselves. And we were already planning our costumes for next year!

Well. It's here.

2011-09-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

Today was Carson's first day of kindergarten. To be honest, the last few days have been a blur, including the Warrior Dash (blog post coming) an important event last night at church, so I was a little off my game this morning. I had some expectations of how the morning would go, and didn't communicate or prepare adquately. ;) I forgot that we had planned a "no TV" rule until you are all dressed, bed made, breakfast eaten and Bible story read. So when I heard Trent and Carson digging around for clothes (without my supervision!) around 6:50, I got up and was immediately Mean Mommy, b/c I just really didn't want him wearing an over-sized, glow-in-the-dark Despicable Me shirt on the first day. It is actually a cute shirt that I approved of when purchased, but just a little too casual for The First Day Of Kindergarten. Trent, probably against his will, backed me up when Carson fought it and got him to put on a Collared Shirt (this is our rule of thumb, dividing all boys shirts into "play clothes" and "nicer" clothes). Carson's school doesn't start until 9:15, so I thought we'd have 2 whole hours to ease into the clothes I had in mind. I also wanted to put on some shorts that matched the shirt, but I let it go.

Carson got over the clothing decision thing and was really excited. But those 2 hours I was telling you about? They lasted a really long time. Long enough for his mood swings to give me whip lash. I'm sure it was just his nerves, which I totally understand, b/c I was nervous too! About 10 minutes before we were going to leave, he said he wanted to take the bus this morning. I told him it was too late, the bus had already come and it was a special morning for me to take him and meet his teacher. Cue: 10 non-stop-minutes of begging to take the bus. Which had already come and gone. And pouting. And refusing to pose for First Day Pictures.

To be honest, I was cracking up as I took these pictures, thinking how we will keep these for all time and look back and giggle. Yes, he's holding a CD that he chose from the house to listen to in the car. I asked him to stand by the front door, so we could take a picture like Sydney's First Day picture. He said no. OK.

There's a chink in this armor...I was trying to make him laugh.

Grumpy attitude melted when we parked in front of the school and started walking. He specifically requested we park ACROSS the street so we could use the crosswalk with the crossing guard. We got to the front of the school before the doors were open, and there were a lot of kids waiting (and some other nervous Kinder parents.) He had a stoic face, but did reach up and hold my hand. I may have gotten choked up just a bit at that moment.

Here he is in his seat! Because of buget cuts, our school has a K/1 blend. I'm choosing to have a good attitude about this. It really, really helps that our wonderful friend and neighbor, Mrs. S, is the aide in this room! I can't tell you how much peace of mind that gave this mama. :)

This other little boy is a 1st grader, so he started last week. I helped them introduce themselves to each other and he said excitedly: "Why don't you take a picture of me and Carson?!?!" Well, OK! I will!

It was a little chaotic in the room, but Carson found his way over to some kids who were hopping around the pond rug.

OK! Here we go! All the unexpected hurdles of the morning were erased from my mind as I kissed my baby and walked out of the room. Deep breath. It begins!

Fresh Start

2011-09-07T11:30:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks have been Crazy with a capital C. I completely forgot to tell you all that I was asked to be a guest blogger! My friend Natalie at Blonde at Heart asked me to write a post while she was on vacation. All her other guest bloggers wrote these cute posts about fashion and decorating. What did I post about? Toots. Yep. I pulled out some pretty embarassing moments, b/c I didn't want to be boring. So go read my post and let me know if you'll ever want to hang out with me again.

We had a great, long holiday weekend over Labor Day. It's our annual trek to the beach and Camp Winema, where we attend a family camp. We added a day this year, so we were gone for 5 days, then came back and jumped right into the new beginnings of school! Sydney started preschool on Tuesday. (FYI, the rest of this post is mostly for my own journaling and memory. Might be pretty boring for the general public.) I was a little nervous, and I think she was too, but not too bad. She has the same teacher and classroom that Carson did all of last year, so it is a place and person with whom she is pretty familiar. We had a minor clothing battle over the shoes (not near as bad as Carson's first day of preschool), but she ended up wearing a pair I approved and even let me spray and comb her wild hair, which is a good thing.

It was a random coincidence that Trent had the day off AND Carson hasn't started school yet, so all 3 of us were there to drop her off. I noticed her confidence start to waver a bit (along with the lower lip) so Trent wisely suggested that Carson and I say goodbye, and he would hang out a couple more minutes. He said she didn't cry when he left, and I'm choosing to believe him. :)

When I went to pick her up, the class was still outside playing, and the aide was holding Syd. Hmmm...not a great sign of independence, but the teachers didn't say anything, so I'll assume it wasn't a big deal. She's younger than Carson was when he started preschool, and I'm really glad we decided to put her in. I think she can use the social experience and also some help with numbers and letters! Plus, let's be honest, she and I could use some time away from each other a couple days a week. Absence makes our hearts grow fonder and 2.5 hours is perfect!

Today Carson is doing a "practice" day of kindergarten, where they will show him the ropes and assess him. Then we will find out what class he's in and start next Tuesday. I didn't take any pictures, b/c I decided this is NOT the first day of school. So, more journaling continued next week...

Special Link

2011-08-29T15:47:00.000-07:00

I'd like you to welcome a new voice to the wonderful world of blogging! My sis-in-law, Jess has just taken the brave leap over at Choosing Hope. For those of you who have ever blogged (especially the small handful who blog regularly!) you know that in and of itself, blogging is a pretty vulnerable proposition. You share your thoughts and pictures with the world and subject yourself to comments, both good and bad. Or even worse--you get NO feedback whatsoever!

But imagine you were going through the most heart-breaking trial of your life. Imagine if the most personal and intimate details of your body and your life became daily fodder for conversation. Imagine if your private pain was accentuated by the rejoicing and celebrations seemingly surrounding you. Imagine if well-meaning friends and acquaintances accidentally inflicted fresh wounds with their good-natured questions. Now imagine you decided to share these extremely private emotions on a public website!

Jess is choosing to share her journey of infertility on her blog. This journey has already been one of immense sorrow, but as her blog title indicates, she and her husband Chad are choosing HOPE. They are clinging to a God whose decisions they don't understand, but who has promised to never leave or forsake them, even in their darkest hour. I have definitely been in favor of her blogging (whenever she was ready) because I know firsthand that sometimes journaling and sharing your thoughts can be healing and can help sort out conflicting emotions. But I also firmly believe that her story (both the pain and the joy) will be a source of encouragement to another couple who are experiencing similar trials. I'm praying fervently that she will one day look back on her blog entries and see how God worked in her life to bring Jess closer to Himself, closer to her husband, and closer to the experiencing the desire of her heart, to be a mother. I humbly beg you to join me in praying, and/or reading and supporting her on the blog!

Jess also happens to have an incredibly busy job, so I doubt she'll be blogging with extreme frequency, but I hope you'll go check it out and become a follower. (Please note: in your supportive comments, please do not tell Jess that if she could just relax and have a less stressful job, then she would get pregnant. Please and thankyou.)

www.choosinghope-jt.blogspot.com

I want to be your internet-era class clown

2011-08-25T08:26:00.000-07:00

Last night my mind was wandering and wondering if people who read my blog are also my friends on Facebook...and if they ever read my status updates. Then I wondered if my FB friends ever read my blog. Then I wondered how I became so narcissistic that I think people care what I have to say. And then I felt uncomfortable as I considered writing about Facebook on the blog. It's as if two worlds are colliding. Like introducing old friends to new friends and hoping they have something in common to talk about. The blog would definitely be the older, more traditional friend who wears low-rise bootleg jeans, and FB is the new, trendy friend with jeggings that the old friend isn't sure they will like--they assume that my new friend has some suspect qualities and may lead me astray. And there are some pretty tempting qualities to the new, fashion-forward friend. See, I get much of the same reward from FB that I do from a blog...throw out some thoughts and get almost immediate feedback. I can stay connected to the world beyond a 5 and 3 year old's daytime routine. But I don't have to spend longer than 60 seconds thinking about my comment, and am not allowed to be wordy (140 characters, I think). And I'm pretty sure a lot more people read FB than my blog.

One problem is that FB doesn't really archive. Once I write down a witty comment or funny happening, I get a few affirming comments, then it disappears into the feed and is quickly forgotten. And mostly, that's not a big deal. Really, my mission statement on FB is to use my 140 characters to make someone giggle at something trivial and go about their day. The blog is where I like to do some deeper thinking as well--and we all know that I can't say anything deep without being extremely loquacious. But my favorite thing is to make people laugh.

Who are we kidding? I sometime work long and hard to make people laugh. I can almost pinpoint the moment--the precise joke!-- in my life when I realized how fun it was to be funny. It was the summer between my 8th and 9th grade and I thought I was going to have to switch schools. (I didn't end up having to...long story.) I had one friend at the almost-new school, which was a big ol' public school, way bigger than my almost-last school. She invited me to a sleepover to meet some of her friends. A bunch of girls I didn't know and kind of needed to like me so I would have friends at my new school. I was pretty quiet for a while, until someone started talking about the hippie vibe in Oregon, and how some people take the "natural living" a little too far. I said, in my best valley-girl speak: "Like, totally! I'm pretty sure some of them are using a leaf for deodorant. AND for toilet paper! Hopefully it's not the same leaf." (Not my best material, but not bad for a 14 year old, off-the-cuff.) And these attractive strangers laughed. WITH me. And smiled at me. And directed the conversation to me a bit more. It was like I had finally discovered my secret superpower--sarcastic humor! GOLD. MINE.

Over the years I have honed my craft, used my powers for good and, I'm ashamed to say, sometimes for evil. I've had some hits and many misses. I realized, mostly by observing other people, that self-deprecating humor is the best, most well-loved type. I also learned that people do not appreciate it when they quietly say something funny in a group, and then you repeat the same joke loudly and get the credit. I learned that not everyone will find funny what I find funny. I learned that mockery can be hilarious, but it can get you in relational trouble, and that kind of cheap humor doesn't give you the same high. I am constantly learning and re-learning when to stop being class clown and just shut my trap before I annoy the heck out of everyone around me. Like I said, that is a lesson constantly in progress.

But if Facebook has taught me anything, it's that the best tool in my comedy box is...my own children! When my own funny well is running a bit dry? Bingo! Just repeat one of the bizarre things that has happened around the house and voila: get a few LOL's. Which leads me back to the problem with Facebook--I'm technically "writing these things down" like so many people keep telling me to do, but then my child's great moment disappears. So in an attempt to a)transfer some of my short and sweet comic gems to the blog archive for posterity and b)maximize my laugh audience, I decided to capture a few of my recent FB status updates in this post. Thank you for humoring me.

*Tonight during prayer, this scene happened. Sydney: Dear Baby Jesus... Carson [in a stage whisper]: Sydney! It's not "Baby Jesus." It's just Jesus. JEE. SUS. JUST JESUS!

*Sydney: Car-car, did you toot?
Carson (annoyed): No. YOU did.
Sydney: Oh yeah. Heehee!

*My poor husband had to apologize to a crying boy, after the boy found a used candy wrapper from his parade stash in the garbage. The wrapper was left right on the top. Poor, sweet, amateur husband. Doesn't he know you have to bury the evidence?

*This afternoon I told my kids they couldn't have another snack. In protest, my son dramatically encouraged hi sister to eat grass, since "that's all we HAVE, Sydney." Don't know what was more surprising, that he actually ate it or that she did too. I guess you gotta admire his conviction.

Have you ever walked out of the grocery store, stood there for a few minutes in a panic, called your husband to tell him the car had been stolen, then just as he answered, you realized you drove the OTHER car? Yeah. Me neither.

*GRANDE ICED SKINNY CARAMEL MACHIATO. Huh. I'm pretty sure I heard Oprah and Ellen say that if I told the universe what I wanted that I would achieve and receive it, but that has not happened so far. Wait....let me go outside my front door in case the machiato is out there...

*Earlier tonight I was reading to Carson on the couch and he said "Can you pause it? I have to go to the bathroom." Yes, son. I will pause my vocal chords and this page of paper.

*Today around noon I started chopping up and sauteing vegetables to put in the crockpot. Doing this at that hour was BLOWING MY KIDS' MINDS. They ran in and asked what time is it? Did I already have my nap? Why didn't we get to go to the park today? Is Daddy almost home? Why are you making dinner?!?!

*Me yesterday: Ew. Why does our car stink? Carson: Probably because I put a sea star in there (pointing). Yep. Newly dead starfish tucked behind the driver's seat for 3 days. Awesome.

*My kids love Adele. I feel extremely satisfied with this fact, b/c I used my best manipulative mommy tactics to pretend I DIDN'T like Adele, thus forcing them to instantly crave her music. Picture me smiling smugly at my windshield as we're Rolling in the Deep.

*"Mom, watch this move!" "Wow! That's pretty coo--" "No! That's not it. Watch again." "Oh! That's great bud--" "No, wait! That wasn't it either. Watch one more time." "OK. Yeah! That's--" "No! I didn't get it yet. Just keep watching." (And repeat.)

*Yesterday Carson was conducting "interviews" with me, asking me questions in his most serious journalist voice. Just as he said into the banana/microphone, "This is Carson reporting...." he let out and accidental (and loud) toot. I can't remember the two of us laughing harder--ever! We could hardly catch our breath! I told him I'm sure that happens even to Brian Williams.

*Why are there MORE streaks on my mirror the more I clean it? Oh. Because I'm spraying it with OXY stain remover, not Windex. That's why.

*Tonight Carson told me he couldn't eat my dinner because it had mushrooms in it. "You don't care for mushrooms?" "Well, actually Mom, some mushrooms are poisonous, so basically this meal is pretty dangerous."

Poor Big Brother

2011-08-21T19:07:00.000-07:00

We've entered a unique set-up in the sibling situation of our household, and it is this: Sydney is more often, more work than her brother. She's at that adorable 3 year old stage where one minute she is just beyond-words precious and funny, singing new songs, trying new dances, giving hugs and kisses. But the next minute she's pestering, testing, pestering, testing, then throwing in complete and utter defiance (with a smug smile) just for the sake of variety. I've been breaking up many fights lately, and they usually start with her doing something legitimately annoying and naughty, and Carson over-reacting and freaking out in anger.

The other day Carson had just about had it, and he was in tears. He had still over-reacted, but instead of punishing him right away, I just took a minute to hug him and try to console him. I said "I know your sister can be so annoying, and I know you're frustrated. What can we do to make you feel better?" He answered "I would just feel better if Asher was HOME." Oh my heart! Tears sprung to my eyes at this surprising sweet, genuine comment showing his budding love for his baby brother. BUT...

...then he continued: "And I want SYDNEY to go live in THAILAND!" Okay, there it is. Back to normal. Sorry, bud, this is not an exchange situation we have going on here. Soon enough I'm sure he'll have TWO pesky little siblings giving him reason to over-react. I never thought I'd actually look forward to sibling rivalry!

Feelin' the love.

2011-08-19T13:05:00.000-07:00

I gotta say thanks for all the really thoughtful and sweet comments and messages ya'll sent after my last post. It really was a huge source of encouragement for me! I felt the love from our friends and family that have been so right here with us through every step. I loved hearing from other adoptive moms...some who are near us in the waiting journey, others just barely home with their kiddos, and still others whose adopted children are grown. They can relate in an intimate way. And other moms related their support as well--and a kinship we share in this whole business of learning to "let go" of our children. Unfortunately, with adoption, I'm learning to let go before I ever have him in my arms, but it's something that continues to happen...whether it's kindergarten, college, or marriage! But one thing that so many of you pointed out was that my intense sadness over not having Asher here is a step of connectedness towards him. Adoptees are not the only ones who have to learn to bond....we as his adopted family need to form an attachment to him as well. As someone pointed out, this mourning is a sign that God is placing a mother's love inside my heart for a child I've never met, who lives half a world away. It's a good, good thing. :)

It also helped that we were able to put together our next care package for Asher and mail it off today. Here's the contents of the package, minus a birthday card Carson made after I snapped this shot. My mom finished Asher's lovey/Minky, we included a special hand-me-down shirt, a photo album, a birthday card and a disposable camera. If you are looking for ways to pray, please pray that his foster family is using the disposable cameras to take pictures of him. :) Stealing the idea from Angie and fam, we took pictures of ourselves giving the polite Thai greeting. (Someone remind me what it is called! I'm too lazy to go check right now.)

This one cracks me up:

The kids were really getting into it:

I'm hoping that these pictures can communicate the story across culture lines...

And PS: Almost five years ago, someone else was wearing that same green striped polo shirt for a very special FIRST birthday. :)

Not my favorite milestone

2011-08-17T08:15:00.000-07:00

OK, this is not a great post to have after not blogging for so long, but I'm gonna share it anyway, because I know some other people who can relate! Please allow me to wallow in self-pity for a few minutes. Yesterday I experienced another first in the adoption process...I have my first public cry. (Not counting the happy cry in the corner room at Michaels.) (Or when I got choked up reading the Toddler Adoption book at Chipotle.) This was a real one--a sad one--and I didn't like it one bit!

It's time for us to send Asher's second care package. We're trying to follow the guidelines and keeping it simple. We're sending another disposable camera, more pictures of our family, and a lovey for Asher just like the ones his brother and sister have. But next month is his birthday, so I knew I wanted to send a birthday card too. (I have no idea exactly when our package will arive in Thailand, or when the social worker will visit him, but I'm hoping it's somewhere near his b-day.)

But as I was standing there in Target, looking at all these special birthday cards for a one-year-old, I just lost it. Usually those silly sentiments don't do a thing for me...most of the time I skim them and look for the signature. But as I was reading things like "Your first cake! Your first candle! Your first year has come and gone..." Yeah. I was just overcome with sadness that I am missing it. Despite the truth that other families hold to, that the first few birthdays really aren't THAT big of a deal, since the child won't even realize what's happening, we've still had a nice big shindig for both kids' first birthdays.

I want to stay up late to make Asher a special cake...and watch him eat it! I want to snuggle him and laugh as he is mesmerized by the candle. I want to watch him attempt to grab at wrapping paper, then let his anxious siblings actually do the unwrapping for him. I want to sit back and enjoy the glow as our family and friends celebrate this first year of life and look at how much he's grown.

That's it--that's the thing. He's already grown so much. He might even be walking right now, and I've missed it. First words? I'll miss that too...and I probably wouldn't even understand them. I know in my head that he'll be home before his second birthday and we'll have every other birthday of his life to celebrate with him...even until he is tired of making a big deal about birthdays. But I don't think I will ever get over my mourning for missing this first year and a half. We got a call that we probably will not travel until April, which seems another world of wait away.

So, I chose my card. It's not especially significant or meaningful, just one that didn't make me cry too hard. And we WILL celebrate his birthday, even though he won't be here to eat his cake. And I probably will hit a major speedbump of sadness...maybe even after he's home? But right now, I'm snuggling up on that little lovey and sending my love with it, and I find a smile thinking about him sleeping with it a world away from me. And I know most days will be better than this.

Had to be there?

2011-08-09T21:18:00.001-07:00

OK, I'm going out on a limb to describe a funny Carsonism, but I can't give it to you verbatim, so it might not translate. The reason is, his comment included the name of our hometown, which I guard pretty closely on this little bloggy thing. I think I have mentioned that we live on the west coast, so I went to google maps and found the first little west coast town I clicked on. It was Millville. So, for this story, our Brazenlilly family lives in Millville:

Carson and I were watching a show where a character was going to Thailand to visit her grandmother. I said "Oh! Carson! Did you hear that? Her grandma is from Thailand, so that means she is part-Thai!" He said, "Just like Asher! But only until he gets here. When he gets here, he'll be part Thai/part Millville."

My Bed, My Deep Thoughts

2011-08-08T07:40:00.001-07:00

Last night I slept in a nice bed. The mattresses are really high-quality, given to us as a wedding gift by someone who works in the business. They even have our names embroidered on the side! Oh yes. You read that correctly. The frame is wrought iron and bought from a friend when they were moving. Just for fun I bought a bunch of paint and made it red. So, my bed is comfy AND pretty. The sheets, while not a crazy-high thread count, are also nice and I chose a pretty cute style on them...small red flowers. I have a pillow that cost something like $30. For a pillow! It's a memory-foam pillow that was originally Trent's, which he loaned to me when I was pregnant with Carson and having trouble sleeping...and which I never gave back. I love that thing and take it everywhere.

When we got in bed, it was pretty warm, so we had the a/c on low. I read for quite a while. Just for enjoyment, with a light sitting on my nightstand. I didn't doubt for a second that the light would turn on, or think about the electricity bill. Then before I fell asleep, I turned the a/c off, and just let the ceiling fan blowing on us. It has 3 speeds, so we chose the medium speed. Then in the middle of the night, I was a bit chilly, so I covered up with one of my 3 blankets.

My kids each cried out in the night once (maybe twice?). It didn't startle or worry me. I knew they were safe and they, too, have pretty comfy beds. And their own rooms, decorated especially for them. Full of toys and clothes. One just wanted to be re-tucked in and one needed to go to the bathroom. So I took her across the hall to our bathroom, where she and her brother had both been washed clean in the tub earlier that night. We flushed away her pee and didn't have to think about it again. Even in our sleepiness, we washed our hands with soap and water, because it's a habit. I tucked her in where she quickly fell asleep without a care in the world, except for the 1.5 seconds she couldn't find her lovey. Then I got back in my comfy bed and realized: this nightly routine is just a scratch on the surface of a life of abundance that I take so for granted.

How many millions of people in this world do not have a bed to sleep on? Do they have a roof over their heads--and if so, is it more than a piece of corrugated metal or a blue canopy? What are their pillows made of? What do they do when it is too hot? How many blankets can they choose from when it is too cold? How do they keep the possibly-diseased-infected insects away from their children while they sleep? And in many places, vicious insects are the least of the predators putting their children at risk--the human kind being the most terrifying. When they have to go to the bathroom in the night, how far do they walk? And how easily is the human waste removed from their daily activities? How difficult is it and how often can they bathe their children in clean water? Can they wash away germs with the flick of a faucet and the squirt of liquid soap? What nightmares do these children suffer through, and are their minds so greatly eased when they wake up to reality?

As I laid in bed, a feeling of gratitude washed over me. A sharp ache of the undeserving. And the unmistakable sting of conviction. See, I'm having some people over tonight, some of whom have never been to our house. And all weekend I've been kind of pouting and stressing that our house is...inadequate. It's really small and the floor-plan is strange. Our furniture is the same it was over 10 years ago, and the decor is also the same. There are dents and scratches in the wall and the laminate is warped. Don't even get me started on the carpet stains! Having a bunch of people over often sends me into furies of discontentment. But it took an uneventful 2 am potty break to snap me back to the truth: I am rich. Our family is blessed beyond measure, and a majority of people in this world could only dream of living in a house this nice, this large.

And because I think God has a sense of humor, and maybe he wanted me to connect in a more personal way with those families who live so differently than us...Trent and I each woke up with some bug bites. It seems some little insect (although I doubt disease-carrying) found its way into our peaceful bed. Ew! I was a little creeped out, but instead of being mad, I just smiled as I stripped those pretty red flowers, threw them into my automatic washing machine, which I can put on a HOT cycle, and thanked God that I am fortunate enough to have an extra set of sheets.

I AM BLESSED.

Memory Lane--music edition

2011-08-02T21:15:00.000-07:00

This one cracks me up, b/c it is a true little glimpse into the secret life of the B-lilly fam. Yes, Husband really does make up songs and sing them wildly all the time. Yes, the kids eat it up and dance around. Yes, Carson rarely has pants on (see: previously given nickname Pantless Wonder and also the videos below, taken almost 2 YEARS later!). And yes, I have a strange little noise that I make to scracth my throat and normally only people in my inner circle know about it...now you'll all hear it!

This is similar to one that I took on my camera's movie mode and posted a few months ago. My favorite parts are a)it is clearly December with the stockings up, and yet Sydney is in her swimming suit, b) Carson still has no pants on and c)this is a side of Syd's personality that is rarely seen outside of this house.

This one is the bonus track, b/c yes, it was taken at the same time, but sometimes you just have SING. Sing, sing, sing to the Lord. (Or Lowd.)

I'm in heaven!

2011-08-01T21:31:00.000-07:00

About 3.5 years ago, Trent surprised me and got me a nice little digital camcorder for our anniversary. I was excited and used it quite a bit for the first few months, including downloading the software that came with the camera and was supposed to make it ALL! SO! EASY! Well, the first time I uploaded all the new videos, I could not post them, I couldn't burn a disc, couldn't put them into our (very basic) video editing software, and could only watch the videos in that particular software. I'm SURE there was a way around it, but I am not that savvy and after trying a few times I just got frustrated. We still use the camcorder every once in a while, but not as much as I would have if it had been more user-friendly...especially since I often want to post it on the blog!

WELL. Tonight I finally took the time to sit down and check it out. We had to get a new computer earlier this year, and I decided to try NOT using the software that came with the camcorder. Guess what? I'm enjoying a good decision! I can now see all the videos I've taken on the camcorder, uploaded them to our hard-drive and external HD, AND I can post them on the blog! Things may get a little video heavy here for a few days if this goes well.

So, especially all you family members....enjoy!

I think this bath video was around May, 2009. My baby girl!

This was also 2009, I think April. I love his laugh!

This was taken this evening, August 1, 2011. You can tell in the interview portion of this video that I got my wish about an adventurous princess--as Syd took a header on the concrete running full-force yesterday. And my apologies for the finger covering the lense...she wanted to see herself as we shot the vid...and that meant I couldn't see the screen. Amateur move!

Birthday Post

2011-07-30T07:17:00.001-07:00

Having a birthday this year is a good way to get me to post! I missed it one year and all my fans went crazy. And by "all my fans" I mean Steph, and by "went crazy" I mean she asked me several weeks later why I didn't do a birthday post. It's actually just another chance for me to wax philosophical on any given topic and narcissistically assume you all care what I think!

Last night right before I fell asleep I was reading a great book that two good friends recommended long ago and I finally took their advice. Basically, it's like finding your favorite blogger has written a book. One of the posts, or I guess in a book they'd be called essays, was talking about the princess phenomenon of the past 15 years or so. It made me thing a lot about myself and my daughter. The author was purporting that the princess concept--of training girls from a young age that their beauty and a handsome prince will rescue them from trouble and deliver a perfect life is damaging to said girls. I fell asleep considering this and agreeing and disagreeing at the same time.

I agree--if that's what you mean by princess: if you are beautiful and demure enough, eventually a good looking guy will come and rescue you at which time you will finally be complete, then no, that's not what I want for my daughter or nieces or friends' daughters. There's a horrible trend lately of almost grown celebs who think it's awesome to act dumb. They are giggly and flighty and flirty and talk in baby voices and it makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit. I don't want to send a message to girls that they need a boy or man to be complete, that if they don't look like Belle or Aurora that well, then you'd better wear more make-up or get a boob job. I want my girls (and by that I mean Sydney, Kaitlyn, Abby and every other little girl in our life) to find pride in their strength--physical and otherwise--in their abilities, in their humor and cleverness. Maybe they like flowers and babies and pretty dresses, maybe they don't. But I want them also to try new things, jump in puddles wearing their brother's frog boots, wrestle with their dads, fall of their bikes because they were riding too fast, lift heavy rocks to throw in the creek, make funny jokes and solve problems.

But I think there's another aspect of telling your daughter she is a princess. If you do it right, you are conveying a message to her that she IS (already) beautiful. That she IS (right now)important, special...like royalty. That she is valuable and cherished and that you would pay a ransom of a million dollars to get her back if she were ever lost to you. I have a friend whose husband woke his 5 year old daughter up in the middle of the night to watch the royal wedding in April. He has strung white Christmas lights from her bedroom all the way to the TV room, where he snuggled with her and they ate tea and scones while watching the wedding. I don't know what he said to her, how he described what they were watching or what makes a princess, but I guarantee she will always remember that with a warmth and a knowledge that her daddy loved her dearly.

It makes me wonder if there is danger and getting caught up in the debate over princess or non-princess, when what we should be focusing on is just LOVING the HECK out of our little girls and pouring into them everything we have to give and teach. I don't remember what season of life it was (probably middle school) and I don't remember the surely dramatic and life-crushing situation that initiated the conversation, but I specifically remember a conversation with my mom when she told me that pretty girls are a "dime a dozen." I wasn't even sure what that meant, but I got the idea. She said there will always be a girl or woman in the room, the class, the school that is prettier than me. And fortunately, I took this as intended, not to crush me that I'll never be the prettiest girl in the room! But she encouraged me that it's fine to want to look my best, but that I should just BE MYSELF and I would stand out in other ways. Find what I was good at and get better at it. Make people laugh and feel good about themselves, and they would want to be around me more. I will never forget that conversation and it has guided me through hundreds of self-esteem crises.

Sorry to my boys that these thoughts are not full of gender equality. And they are not necessarily date-appropriate; I should be talking about all the things I'm looking forward to in the coming year (ASHER! HOME!), but this is what was on my heart as I woke up this morning. I'm so grateful to my parents for, as Tina Fey likes to say, "instilling in me a confidence that is disproportionate to my looks and ability." My birthday wish is to raise my daughter to trust her gut, to value strength and humor, to crave knowledge and wisdom, and to expect to be treated with respect and love--whether she's wearing a Cinderella dress or mud boots that look like frogs.

PS: I'm 34 and proud of it!

Soccer

2011-07-27T07:12:00.000-07:00

Yep. I haven't blogged in long time. I don't have a great reason, other than this: I didn't feel like it! So many times I've wished I could turn blogging into a money-making venture (but the first step would be putting advertising on, and I'm not ready to make that step), but then in months like this, I'm glad that I'm just a little amateur blogger with a few loyal readers who will stop back in whenever they get a chance. If I don't want to blog, I don't have to! Plus, I know it's going to be a LONG time before we have any adoption updates, so sometimes that takes the wind out of my bloggersails.

But here's an update on something we've been doing this summer. For the first time, BOTH kids are enrolled in soccer camp through the city. It's every Tuesday night for 7 weeks. Each week I am exceedingly amused by both of my children. Carson is totally in his element. He gets to run around with other kids and play games with a little bit of structure.

Carson (mostly) tries to listen to the rules of each little exercise or game, so that he can get going ASAP. He is motivated and wants to look like a soccer player and do well. He's focused on what his teammates are doing and usually waits his turn with a patience that is never shown at home. We couldn't find his shin-guards this particular night, but I'll try to post some with the guards. He looks pretty legit. And also like his dad/uncle.

THEN, on the adjacent field, we have the Birdie. Not an athletic bone in her little 29 pound body. Not that we've done much to cultivate it. We don't even have any sporty clothes for her, so she is usually decked out in colorful stretchy clothes of some manner. She makes no notice of the other kids around her, what the purpose of the exercise is, when it is her turn or where the soccer ball is at any given moment. She's just a giggling, clueless little orange fuzz skipping around.

Now, granted, most of this is due to her age--I mean, she's probably one of the youngest kids out there. But honestly, she'd be the stereotypical girl out on the field picking dandelions if this weren't parent/tot class, and her soccer-loving dad were not by her side throughout the entire hour. Daddy says she has one speed, which is "casual." She frequently la-dee-dahs away from the drill to wave, grin and give me thumbs-up. After soccer, she has way more to say about her ponytail (it looks like the babysitter's!) than anything that actually took place during camp.

But I'm so grateful for experiences like this, and grateful that my kids (so far) seem to go with the flow. They are neither the aggressive kid obsessed with winning, nor the unwilling participant crying and laying on the ground. At least not this week. ;)

Plus it gives them both a time to blow off some energy.

And a chance for Syd to have some special time with Daddy.

And after parent/tot is over, they come over with me and we watch the rest of Carson's camp.

And Sydney will give big brother some tips on his game.

A few kisses and wrestles and then we all go home! And hopefully sleep very well.

Because! I said so! And I'm too tired to think of a better reason!

2011-07-13T11:33:00.000-07:00

My friend Tiffaney and I were cracking ourselves up yesterday, discussing all the random rules and logic we pull out of our hindquarters during the daily parenting rigmarole. (Oh yes. I just used that word. Semi-correctly.) Because as Director of Development--aka Mommy--the one main perk of my job is that I am The Boss. The highest human authority. The Big Kahuna. Of course this is a jobshare situation when Daddy is home, but I'm talking about the long days when he is at work. As The Boss, I have the executive authority to decide on new founding principles of our family unit, create new standards and also imply that any such newly articulated guidelines have been in place since the beginning of time. And with this executive authority, there are no checks and balances, people.

In the defense of these tactics, might I point out that there are some rules that I never KNEW would be needed. For instance, my friend Amanda was recently shocked to find herself declaring "We never, EVER lick the toilet. Under any circumstances. No. Licking. Toilets." See? New rule! I had no idea we'd have to formulate our family's clothing (and lack thereof) policy. "You have to at least be wearing underwear when you leave your bedroom. You must have pants on when answering the door or talking to neighbor girls. Sydney must have a shirt on as well. I know, it's not fair, but it's a cultural expectation that we will abide by." Speaking of the outdoors, I tend to make and break my own guidelines on when it is and is not permissible to urinate in the backyard.

But it gets rather humorous when I start getting all "moral high ground" on the kids. No, I'm not proud of it, and please don't see this as an invitation to help me rewrite our household rules or my parenting technique, but I have been known to say things like "That would not make Jesus happy." I know! Mommy guilt PLUS religious guilt! So terrible. But actually kinda true. My "go to" fly by the seat of my pants rule creation is the ever-popular "IN OUR FAMILY." See, we learned early on that you can't make sweeping rules that seem universal, because then your kid will learn that it is forbidden to stick his tongue out (which is like flipping the bird in our family) and then fly off the handle when some other kid does it innocently on a playdate. (Or the reverse, like when your kid is allowed to play with light sabers and other kids are not!) So we focus the rules on OUR FAMILY. Oh, man, I use this one a lot. I justify it in my mind by thinking of the wonderful foundation of justice and goodness that I'm surely laying in their little minds.

IN OUR FAMILY, when we spill something, we clean it up. IN OUR FAMILY, we slide down slides, not walk up them. IN OUR FAMILY, we don't splash mommy when in the bathtub. IN OUR FAMILY we don't say "butt" or "shut up" or "hate." IN OUR FAMILY we don't like being late. IN OUR FAMILY we flush the toilet promptly and jiggle the handle in the front bathroom because you know that one gets stuck. IN OUR FAMILY we don't roll up in the floor rug, thus exposing the disgusting stuff underneath that mommy doesn't ever clean. IN OUR FAMILY kids don't hold fancy cameras or permanent markers, they don't drink mommy's soda or coffee, and they don't put stickers on glass or wood.

Tiffaney said her special off-the-cuff authority spouting is the "threefold reasoning." When she gives an instruction or order, and some child pouts and says "Aw! WHY?" She is never to be found without reasons, demonstrated with dramatic finger gestures: "FIRST, you'll do it because I told you to. SECOND, you'll do it because we need to take care of our things. And THIRD...you'll do it....BECAUSE I TOLD YOU TO DO IT!" She is very wise and witty, and I'm sure she never falls short on the threefold, but I know I do.

But as with the vast majority of my parenting practices, the goal is to get through the day without harming anyone and making sure everyone knows they are loved. Then just pray that by God's grace they really will find a balance of justice, morality and sanity that they picked up...IN OUR FAMILY.

Random

2011-07-11T20:41:00.001-07:00

I forgot to post about a funny quote from Carson on the day of our referral. Carson was actually on a fun outing with Bapaw Roy when we got the call. After I picked him up, we were in the car on the way to Daddy's work when I told him the news. He was satisfactorily excited and asking lots of questions about Asher. After a couple minutes, our conversation lulled and he asked where I was when the social worker called me. I told him I was at Michael's.

"The craft store?" he said with a smile, but also a semi-confused look on his face.
"Yes! The craft store!" I said.
"Huh," he replied, with a very matter-of-fact tone. "That's random."

How I almost cursed at the ice cream man who was a lady

2011-07-09T08:42:00.000-07:00

I don't have a lot of blog fodder right now that is not a long complaint about parenting a whiney three-year-old, so I'm going to have to go elsewhere for a story. I've been sitting on this story for a few weeks and thought I'd share.

If you'll remember, the second week of June we had a HUGE SALE fundraiser in our yard/garage. Doing a garage sale of any kind is exhausting, but the martyr in me likes to think that when over a dozen different families bring you all their treasures, the sheer volume of merchandise to be stored, moved, organized, priced and sold entitles me to a little more exhaustion. (Not that I didn't have help, because I had great help!) Also you need to know that Trent and I kind of have a deal about these kinds of things: I do it and he stays out of my way. Or helps in specific ways that I request. Like staying out of my way. And keeping the kids out of my way. Wow, I'm really starting to sound like a crazy mean lady, but it's all for the BABY, people!

So, let's just say that after weeks of prep, two LONG days of dealing with weird garage sale people and constantly adjusting the position of the sale items for optimum presentation, by Saturday evening? I was DONE. Dead woman walking on shakey legs and even more shakey temperament. Trent, the T family and my in-laws had done a wonderful job of caring for my children during the sale, but they were home when we were cleaning up. My parents were also there helping, which was wonderful. There were a few straggling shoppers that wanted to haggle/scavenge, and I wasn't having it. I told them to remove the items from my sight pretty please, hoping they would be scared off by my rudeness.

As we were tearing down, moving heavy items, boxing up the many things that didn't sell, trying to find a way to get stuff back into our garage, etc. THE ICE CREAM TRUCK comes down our cul-de-sac. Now, i don't have a lot of enemies, but in my mind? The Ice Cream Truck is my enemy. I never make eye-contact with the driver, but imagine him as a childless jerk who has years of manipulation perfected in the art of seducing little ones with sugar and fracturing parent/child relationships. My kids and I can be having a lovely, whine-free afternoon full of free back-yard sprinkler fun, and as soon as they catch a note of that tinny, jack-in-the-box music, and all hell breaks loose. They burst into begging and pleading with such passion that you would think someone was offering them a new car, not a $5 treat that is really worht 75 cents. Sometimes they evade my capture and run out to the front to "just look" at the truck, which totally eggs-on the Ice Cream Truck, who slows to a crawl and (I imagine) a smug, knowing smile. He may not get my $10, but he's wreaked havoc, which is worth almost as much. So it goes in my mind.

But back to the garage sale. The kids were out front with us, and they, of course, were jumping up and down with excitement, begging and pointing. All four adults took the classic stance of ignoring the entire existence of the Ice Cream Truck. This is my go-to move for such situations. Pretend it doesn't exist and soon it will go away. BUT IT DIDN'T GO AWAY. The truck not only slowed to .5 mph, it made LOOP around the cul-de-sac and came BACK around to our house where the children were on the verge of hysterical tears at the injustice of their parents. I walked inside for a moment, and my anger (surely compounded by my exhaustion) started to bubble up as I walked back outside and saw the Ice Cream Truck has STOPPED right in front of my children. Oh no he di'int. I put on my best confrontational face (which actually not that great) and started my Stomp of Justice out to that driver to give him a piece of my mind. Oh. I tell you. I was on FIRE with all the zingers I had planned for this stranger (so much easier to tell off a stranger!).

But when I approached the truck, this little post-middle-aged lady came out to meet me. Hmpph. OK, first surprise. It was a "she." Then she asked where we were adopting from. She had seen the signs. So I told her. But I still was mad at her! I was! Then she asked if she could buy this total gym thing that hadn't sold, but that we'd been lugging around for weeks and were wondering how we were going to get rid of. And I told her that everything was free at that point. She was overjoyed and almost hugged me. She asked if she could come back in an hour and pick it up, and I said yes. Then she asked if my kids could have a popsicle. And I said yes. I almost bartered for Klondikes instead, but I decided to let it go.

But she totally ruined my angry mojo. Now instead of picturing an evil, faceless, family-wrecking man behind the wheel of that pink truck, I'm picturing Sandra, the 55 year old grandma whose niece is adopting domestically and who is trying to earn a living and maybe do a little exercise on the side. Well. Pff.

So maybe the ICT is no longer my enemy. But that doesn't mean I'm going to drop $10 everytime Sandra drives by. But I MIGHT crack a smile. Or possibly wave.

"A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Proverbs 15:1

Photo Overload

2011-07-08T07:42:00.000-07:00

Here's a post for the grandmas & grandpas & aunts & uncles.
*
This is the first weekend in 7 that we will not be out of town, having a birthday party/Father's Day/Referral, doing a garage or consignment sale. I'm quite happy to be past the craziest part of our summer! The last 2 weekend we were at the coast and the mountain, respectively, first with Trent's extended family and then with my family. I had my camera on me a lot more on the mountain, but got a few pics of the beach weekend too!

The highlight of beach weekend for Sydney was having Baby McKenna there! They are...second cousins? Their dads are cousins. It was a mutual entertainment for the most part.

G.G. with her 2 great-granddaughters. And a doll.

Gorgeous, gorgeous day at the coast!Auntie Tata and Riley--whom the kids think is their other cousin.
Cousin Kevin entertained Carson endlessly by building little villages and then inventing nature weapons to destroy said villages.
Denae has the patience to wait for Sydney's extended shyness to end...then they were best buds!
Chasing Auntie Shell in a pick-up game of beach baseball. 4 generations!

Now to Mt. Hood!
These boys have been coming on this trip since they were in utero.

"Huh?!?"

This picture feels very Mark Twain-esque to me.

All 8 kids loved playing in this lovely, shallow creek!

These are the kids as they were almost done with their traditional treasure hunt. Henry is especially loving it.

Dirt, water, rocks, sticks? 2 year old boy is in heaven!
As Aunt Steph said, this picture really captures JACK!

The lake was so shallow, the daddies waded out and pulled the kids in the rafts. They loved it!
This girl takes her relaxing very seriously. Look at those divas! Ethan is giving Trent a good splash.

Beautiful Pacific Northwest!

My stubborn girl didn't want to walk back to the campsite, but since I was already carrying the tricycle she abandoned, I couldn't carry her as well. This was our stand-off.

Nina is the queen of fancy S'mores! I wish I had a picture of her fixing them up. We all loved them! Jojo was showing Sydney the finer art of tasting sticky marshmallows.

You don't have to ask her twice.

Oh yeah. that's the good stuff. This was right before we went home. We were flithy and stunk like smoke, but we had a great weekend! Why, yes, we bribed the kids with sugar to hold still for a picture. Except for poor Wyatt in the front row--we hadn't given him a sucker yet. This was the moment he realized....

Asher Update

2011-07-01T13:53:00.000-07:00

First, a note to my other Holt Thai mamas who are "waiting to travel" (that's what they call the torturous time between referral and homecoming): we got an update on Asher yesterday, but I heard that only a few files came through so far. The rest are supposed to come by the end of next week. :( I hope this post isn't pouring salt on your wounds/aching hearts!
*

Yesterday we received the quarterly update for Asher from March, when he was 6 months old. He seems to be doing well! He weighs 9 kg, which yahoo conversion tells me is about 19 lbs. The reports are brief, but it says that he rolls over, smiles, coos, raises his chest high off the floor. Although I take all personality reports with a grain of salt (what are they going to say? He cries all the time?) the social worker reports that he sleeps well and is a content baby.

I put the new pictures on our private blog, which you can find by CLICKING HERE. The password is the same--my maiden name, all lower case letters. When you go over there, you'll see that Asher is totally rocking a bright PINK shirt and camo pj pants! I love it. We cherish every little detail of these pictures, and I'm sure we'll recount this one to him for years to come.

Some people have asked us about the details of Asher's current care and/or why he's older than some internationally adopted kiddos. It's a repeat for others, so feel free to stop reading if you already know this! One of the reasons we chose this particular program in this particular country (other than a strong leading from the Holy Spirit!) is because of the work of Holt Sahathai Foundation (our agency's partner in Thailand). When birth mothers come to them, believing they are unable to raise their child, HSF works HARD to see if the birth mother or her family actually CAN raise the child. Often children are put into a foster family while the birth mother/parents receive support and training to become more stable. If it's a financial issue, often children can be enrolled in Holt's child sponsorship program, when somone from the states pays a small monthly amount--just enough to cover the basic expenses the birth family cannot. To date, 80% of the women who come to HSF have decided to keep their baby.

As a part of the Hague Adoption Convention laws, it is my understanding that before relinquishing a child for international adoption, an effort must first be made to find a family in the child's birth country willing to adopt. Only after family and in-country adoptions are not an option are the children available for international adoption. That's why HSF's work is so large, yet the US program is so small. (The waiting list hardly ever gets longer than 15 families.) Also why babies are often 9 months old before being referred. (For more info on Holt and HSF's work in Thailand, click HERE.)

The other benefit of HSF's work is that they actively recruit loving foster families in Thailand to care for the babies while their files are being processed. Many times, it is a family with older children who bring in an infant for a year or two. Asher's foster family lives in a rural area a couple hours north of Bangkok. In the home is a mother, father, two older sisters (7 and 10) and the maternal grandmother. Be praying for all six of them! From what I have read, there is a significant difference in a child's ability to attach and bond as a toddler when he has already has the opportunity to bond with one or two caregivers in a home environment, rather than an orphanage-style home. I'm sure with two older foster-sisters and being the only baby, he's getting lots of one-on-one attention and love! The hard part about this scenario is that Asher will grieve the separation from this family much more strongly than if he were in institutionalized care, sharing the caregivers with several other children. We are preparing ourselves for one very upset and sad little man, for an indeterminate length of time. However, we are greatly encouraged by our friends who have gone through this before us, who fill us with hope at the resiliency of young hearts and minds, and the power of unconditional love, educated parents, attachment tools and loads of patience.

PS: If you do not know the password and would like to see the pictures of Asher, feel free to email me at brazenlilly@gmail.com.

What's next?

2011-06-28T10:32:00.000-07:00

Thank you, everyone, for all your excitement over our news about Asher! It makes our joy so much fuller when we can SHARE it with friends and family--especially since so many of you have been instrumental in our journey!

Many people have been asking the obvious question--what now? So, here's the scoop. After getting the OK from our pediatrician, we called Holt and said we'd like to officially accept the referral. They sent us a digital packet of forms, which I printed off--57 pages, I believe! We've been reading over them, getting notarized, etc. We've also been getting together our first gift bag for Asher. The restrictions on these gift packages are pretty stringent! It can only have an outfit OR a toy, and a picture book and a letter. It all has to fit in a flat, gallon size zip lock bag. We're also going to put in a disposable camera and hope Holt will allow it! We want the foster family to start taking pictures as soon as possible for us to have in the future.

Instead of going to buy new clothes, I knew I wanted to send Asher some of Carson's baby clothes. It was very bittersweet going through the bins marked "Boy Clothes: 6-12 months" because Asher is probably already too big for some of them. It was also sad for me that out of this huge rubbermaid, I had to choose ONE outfit to pass on. The rest he'll never wear. So after careful consideration, I chose one of my favorite little polo shirts from when Carson was Asher's age. We included some soft denim shorts for the warm Thai weather. We also included a hand-me-down picture book that is meant for babies. It has spots for 6 photos and is soft and slobber-proof. We put a close-up of each of us, with clear labels to be translated, plus one family photo and a cute one of big brother and sister. Here's the shirt we're sending:
*
After Holt receives our acceptance paperwork, they will send it all, plus our dossier and Asher's file to the Thai Department of Social Development and Welfare (DSDW) Adoption Center. Our case is assigned to a social worker, and she reviews our dossier and our child's file. After the social worker has reviewed the match, she "queues up" the case for formal approval by the Adoption Board. This is called "1st Approval" and it usually occurs about 6-7 months after referral assignment. However, this summer Thailand DSDW (and Holt Sahathai) are all participating in something called Nativeland, which is when Thai-born children who were adopted to families in other countries return to Thailand for a visit. This takes the time, work and energy of all social workers, and we've been told virtually no paperwork will be processed furing the month of July. :( So, I'm thinking 1st approval will not be as timely as we hope. But, we'll cross that disappointing bridge when we come to it!

*

In the meantime, we can continue to carefully plan our every-other-month care package to Asher. We'll wait with anticipation for an update every three months. We'll learn some Thai phrases and educate ourselves as much as we can about our son's home land and culture. We'll pray, pray, pray for Asher and his foster family, that they will show him the love, affection and security that we so long to provide ourselves.
*
I got a neat email from a gal who worked in Thailand--both in Bangkok and the more rural areas. She taught school and worked in an orphanage. K sent me a beatiful description of the Thai people, especially those who are not jaded by the tourist industry in Bangkok! She told me what a compassionate culture they have, and wanted to assure me that our son is being cared for in one of the most wonderful countries on earth--with a culture that highly values children and family. She said the Thai people treat their babies like little Princes and Princesses, so she feels confident that Asher is being loved on something fierce! This was a great thought to begin our 9-10 month wait until we can love on him ourselves!

June 26

2011-06-26T16:36:00.000-07:00

Dearest Sydsyd,

Three years ago today I went into labor with you--2 weeks early! I was expecting a Yankee Doodle Dandy baby, but was not disappointed to welcome you early. We were going through a heat wave--it was expected to be 100 on the 26th, and I also didn't mind being in a fully air-conditioned hospital for a couple days. The labor was quick, but not uneventful. Your mama likes to vomit her way through labor (you're welcome for that information, sweetie), and your daddy almost passed out from the awesome combination of bodily fluids involved in the beautiful and disgusting business of giving birth. The NICU nurses were called in to await you, b/c there was a strong concern you had breathed in some meconium. This will all make way more sense to you in about 25 years. But soon after you arrival, you were declared A-OK, gorgeous blue eyes and just enough orange fuzz on your head for every hospital employee to confidently assure me you are a redhead. We also noticed that the two smallest toes on your left foot were fused together! We immediately starting calling them your "special toes." My little Bird, you were easy from the start!
What a delightful disposition you had--a great sleeper who loved to smile!

NOT a great eater, however. Which is partly why you earned the nickname Birdie!

I'll always remember that first year of your life as being a whirl of happiness! You were such a breeze--a bald little breeze.

Your milestones came a little slower than "normal," but we could tell you were just content to take your time and do things your own way.

You learned to crawl at 11 months, and walk at 15 months.

You've got a sweet-tooth like your mama!

One of my greatest joys is watching as you got old enough to start playing with your brother. You guys fight--a lot. But you also love each other and have very tender moments together. I know you will always look up to Carson, and I feel confident that he will never let go of his job as your protector!

Now that you are going to be a big sister, I pray that you will also take on that same role for Asher. A part of your personality that has really developed in the last year or so is your maternal side! You have about 12 baby dolls in the house, and you take turns caring for each of them. Sure they get dropped on their heads or left on the driveway sometimes, but you tenderly feed them, rock them and put them to sleep daily. Most of them are named Baby Kaitlyn, but we refer to them in their descriptive forms: Purple baby, Thai baby, silly-hair baby, brown baby, boy baby, etc.

When this picture was taken (below), on your 2nd birthday, you received your first dress-up dress. It's still one of your favorites, and dressing up has also become one of your favorite past-times. You have a total knack for acting "grown-up" as you put your keys in your purse, put your chapstick on, pack your phone and kiss me good-bye, telling me you're going to drive to work. :)

I love that your sense of humor is developing, and you know when Daddy and I are teasing you! It's fun to play games and jokes with you, and watch you laugh and throw your head back with giggles.

It's pretty clear, however, that you are no longer that angelic infant, sitting happily and watching the world go by. You have found your voice and your opinion! On many mornings you express a strong choice on what you will wear, eat and do. You stomp your feet and clench your fists and shout "NO!" with the best of them. You dawdle--oh my WORD, how you dawdle, girl! I can tell you know when you are pushing my buttons and you like it! You've found that fiestiness that so stereotypically comes with your red locks.

But you still are definitely my snuggler. You're a mama's girl and you want to be with me and preferably sitting in my "yap" many times throughout the day. I can always count on some good cuddle time with you, which warms my heart like you'll never know.
Another one of my favorite things you do is something that hardly anyone ever sees--or rather: hears. When you are doing something on your own, often you'll just burst out into a tune. No tune in particular, but you throw in a mean vibrato just to be dramatic. You sing along to music in the car as well--more than your older brother ever did. It gives me such joy to hear!

Outside of our house, you still definitely have a stoic and rather shy side. People have to spend a few hours with you, usually, before you let your guard down and let them see your silly side. This year we went to Disneyland and you were not interested in meeting any of the Disney characters! But you still had a great time doing your own thing. I know that the girl we know now is just a piece of the young woman you will become, but Syd? I love what I see! Being your mama is one of the greatest joys of my life. Last week we found out that you will be the middle child with 2 brothers. As soon as I knew that you would be my only daughter, I began to cherish our relationship even more! I pray that you will always trust me to protect you, be honest with you, and laugh with you. I know some people don't like the trend of calling their girls princesses--perhaps it can lead to a feeling of entitlement. But whether or not you want to be called a princess, I want you to know that you are the daughter of THE King! You are special, unique, loved, important, beautiful, kind, funny and wonderful. There is not and never will be anyone just like you. My life is richer because I know you, and I'm blessed furthermore to call you my daughter! Happy third birthday, sweet Sydney!

The Birthday Surprise

2011-06-21T16:45:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, we had already planned an early birthday party for Syd. She officially turns 3 this next weekend, but we'll be out of town. You gotta understand, our "family party" includes both sides of our family and also a few "family members" that have been a part of the gathering since before there were any children for whom to HAVE the parties. We're right at 30 people for a small family party. WHICH, made it the perfect time to share the news about Baby Asher! It was no small challenge to keep this exciting information a total secret for 48 hours. Plus put my energies into planning the party and act like nothing special had happened. I decided I needed to do something special for Syd, so the big reveal wouldn't steal all her thunder, so I brought out my special butterfly cupcakes. (Shhh! They aren't really mine. They're from this book.) I was ready to break away from pink, so we went with teal and lavender. Still feminine, no? Sydney liked them and that's a nice reward for this mama. Also a nice reward is getting a few cute pics of the birthday girl! I'm all about a few cute pics.

Did I mention this was a costume party? We've learned that the princess dresses are pretty but a little itchy, so she has to have a shirt on underneath.

She has no trouble getting into the act.

Also getting into the act? Her brother.

I asked him to make a Jedi pose and this was his first attempt. Hmmm...not exactly what I was going for. Are those jazz hands?! There we go. Much better.

Other people got in the spirit too!

Not everyone got there at the same time, so first we had a little bbq dinner, while I am almost SHAKING with anxiety and excitement, waiting to spill the beans! Big props to Carson, who knew the secret and asked me if he could please tell someone, and obeyed when I said no. :) After dinner, we gathered everyone for "a matching game." I put them all in pairs, and handed each pair an envelope. I told them they all had a picture of someone in the room...either in costume or not in costume. The goal was to walk around and find the group that had a picture of the SAME person as you. It was a game I made up to disguise the fact I was handing them all a picture of Asher! I was trying not to be too bossy when some grown-ups said they didn't want to play or when people were clarifying the specifics of the rules....to the imaginary game.

Then I said "Ready, set, go!" and watched their smiling faces turn to confusion. What? Who? So I jumped in and said "Just kidding! This is our new son!" Yep. Tears. Laughter. Hugs. Perfect! I was very satisfied that my little plan had worked and that no one had any idea. The fact that we got the referral so early was pretty handy.

We took pics of each set of grandparents with their new grandson:

Baby Asher, you have so many people already loving you and praying for you! We long for the day when we can hold you and kiss you. I hope you are ready to be a part of this CRAZY FAMILY!

Our new SON!

2011-06-19T14:42:00.000-07:00

I'm kind of shaking as I write this, but, my wonderful blog readers...I have a new son! Well, obviously he's not officially ours yet--we haven't even accepted the referral in writing, but we intend on doing just that. It's only been a few days, but we've already mentally added him to our family. He is a healthy, 9 month old (with huge cheeks!), who was born the day after Carson's fifth birthday. (Carson is thrilled with this fact!)

We are going to name him Asher, which means "happy and blessed" which is our prayer for him! (It's also one of the tribes of Judah, by the by.) We love his Thai name, and it will be his middle name--probably will be used interchangeably for many months (forever?) after we bring him home. I don't know if I'll change my mind later, but for now I'm gonna keep his Thai name on the private posts and just refer to him as Asher here.

We only have a few pics so far, but I'm sure you want to see them! The pictures are from December, which is a bummer, b/c he's surely changed so much since then. We have been told that the March pictures should be arriving any day. I put what we have on a protected post and the password is my maiden name (all lower case letters this time). If you don't know the password, please feel free to leave a comment on how I can message you privately, or email me at brazenlilly@gmail.com. If you want the rest of the story, come back and read below! But for pictures, CLICK HERE.

So....THE CALL. I had successfully crammed our month so full that although I daily thought about the call and carried my phone everywhere, I wasn't frantic about it like I was in March. I think that being confident we would get a referral was a COMPLETELY different feeling than the torture of wondering and then being disappointed. On Thursday, Sydney and I were at Michael's craft store when my phone rang. I had a cart full of party and cupcake supplies when I saw who was calling. It was the Holt office in Portland, which was a surprise, b/c I was expecting our contact in the Eugene office, but of course my heart starting racing. In fact, I later realized that in my freak out, I must have been holding a package of paper cupcake liners--because I found them in my purse! Holt has made me a shoplifter! (Don't worry, I returned later and paid for them.)

Our social worker, K, was the one calling. (We are fortunate to live in a Holt state, where the same agency can do both our home study AND all the international stuff.) She was super casual, and her small talk threw me off. I had completely abandoned my cart in the cake aisle and pushed Sydney into the little classroom near the front of the store. I finally said, "Should I be getting excited right now?" and she said "Yes." I was pacing the room at an alarming rate by this time. She told me she was sending me a file on a sweet and healthy baby boy. She told me the birthdate and that's when the tears came. We hung up and I rushed Sydney out of the store, b/c it was 12:15, and Trent has lunch until 1pm. We had agreed to only open the pictures if we were together, and I could NOT WAIT until 5pm. I needed to get to him! Sydney started pitching a fit that we were leaving all her birthday goodies and I broke all parenting rules and just said I would buy her a treat if she hurried. It worked. We headed to the hospital to meet Trent.

To make a long story shorter--we had some complications but finally saw the pictures together...all four of us crowded around the screen at Trent's work. The setting (kids in my lap, Trent controlling the computer differently than I would, kids pushing buttons and moving the screen) did not lend for an ideal first viewing. But when we got home, I put the kids down for nap/quiet time and finally had my mommy moment. I read over Asher's file and had a good long cry for his birth mom. We will not be publicly sharing even the little information we know about her, b/c that is Asher's story to hear first and share. But just knowing some small facts and details made me feel more connected to her and I just grieved. I wept that her loss is now my gain, and what an aching there must be in her young heart. I finally took time to look at the pictures at my own pace and tried to grasp the fact that (because there seemed to be no reason we would not accept) this was OUR SON! I will be the mother of 2 sons and a daughter. Carson and Sydney have a baby brother. He is in Thailand right now, being raised by his foster family. He has no idea what is coming. He's going to be so sad. But then, I pray, he'll be "happy and blessed." So many emotions!

Wow.

So, that's the scoop. In a couple days I'll write about how we kept it a secret from everyone so we could do a big, dramatic, surprise REVEAL (my favorite!) for both of our families at Sydney's birthday party--which was also a costume party. I think I'll wait a few years to show Asher the pictures of Trent and me in blue wigs holding his picture. It might scar him more than necessary.

Park Passports

2011-06-17T07:38:00.000-07:00

I am not one of those moms who has tons of fun plans for the summer. In fact, I have hardly any. But I knew I needed to get started on some sort of agenda to keep us from going insane at home. I read about an idea in a magazine, and I stole it. It's called the "Park Passport." Every Tuesday, we're going to a different park around town. I'll take pictures, and as soon as we get home, Carson (with some help from me and Sydney) will review the park and its features, then give it a rating. This was our first venture! The park got 4 out of 5 stars. I took one star away automatically for not having any restrooms.
Carson took the star away because there was no big slide for older kids. Yes, this was definitely not your mother's play structure.

This park gives me the impression of an architect who was bucking the system.
The boys had fun in this little spinning bucket (And I gave it a try! Somehow no photos of that experiment have survived.) But later our friend Cason got going too fast and was a little worse for wear.

What is this? I do not know. But it provided some fun moments.

After the fact, we learned that this little skateboard thingy can slice your fingers. Good to know!

Then the next day, we had an unplanned park visit when we went north to meet up with the cousins and "cousins." I noticed that I take more pictures of girls than boys. So much for gender equality. But also? They hold still more often. But not always:

I know I say it a lot, but Sydney is ENAMORED of her younger cousin! This girl will be 16 and Syd will still call her Baby Kaitlyn. The aunties were reminding me that this is good! She's ready for a little brother or sister!

You have no idea what IDIOTS Steph and I were making of ourselves (OK, especially Steph) to try to get Kaitlyn to smile. We were calling her Stonewall Kaitlyn. This was what we got:

The big boys played Star Wars...

....and ran a lot....

....and ran some more.

I cannot tell you how many pictures I took of my nephew, Jack! This kid NEVER. STOPS. (Moving or talking.) I finally got one of his face, even though it's shaded by his sweet Nike hat. He is so stinkin' adorable!

Aaaand, just in time for her birthday next week, a new pic of my photogenic middle child. I remember when we were newlyweds, a slightly older couple befriended us and had us over to dinner a few times. They had an adorable little redhead preschool daughter. Trent said she was so cute--I bet they have a hard time disciplining her. Her dad just smiled and said: "Not really." Hahaha! Oh, this little angel has some tricks up her sleeve, let me tell you.

Sydney-isms

2011-06-14T08:05:00.000-07:00

I think I've mentioned before that Syd's language development is delayed--especially compared to her very verbal brother. But the doc (and Trent's colleagues who are speech therapists!) has said that as long as she is a)attempting conversation and b)making progress at all, then we don't need to do anything about it for a while. But it is hard to understand her much of the time, although the three of us can usually translate her special language often out of frequency and context. We just gently try to correct her and have her repeat after us. She does talk A LOT, has progressed enough that it's time to have a short post about Sydney-isms! Speaking of gently correcting, Sydney and I were having a special (haha) moment in the bathroom, with her on the pot and me sitting on the side of the bathtub waiting. She was dealing with some constipation issues. She looked at me with a sad face and said "Somesimes, me can't poop." I said, "You mean 'Sometimes, I can't poop.'" Her eyes got big and her head perked up and she said in surprise: "Somesimes YOU can't poop?!?!"
This one is small, and it might not seem cute to you, but of course it is to us. When she's being mischievious, or caught doing something sketchy, she pulls out a huge grin and, in her version of hello, she says "HI-YO!"
We were in her room the other day, where the crib is still put up--for lack of a better place for it at this time. She smiled and said "That bed for my baby sister." This was the first time she had said anything that indicated she grasped that a sibling was coming for real. I got excited and said "Yes! It's for your baby sister OR a brother. We don't know if we're going to have a boy or a girl." She looked concerned and said "But, but, but, but" [an annoying habit she picked up from her brother] "I want a dirl! Mama, I NEED a dirl!" I just laughed and said I wasn't sure if her daddy could handle another DIRL. ;)

Yard Sale for Baby T

2011-06-13T11:21:00.000-07:00

Our second yard sale for Baby T went really well! If you remember, last year's June yard sale was ridiculously profitable. I mean, who makes $3,000 at a garage sale? But I'm completely convinced it was God-ordained, b/c we had a $3,000 payment due later that summer. My goal for this sale was $1,000. We still had a LOT of things donated, but not quite as many big ticket items. But thanks to those donations, generosity like a friend handing me $80 cash, another friend paying $300 for an item that cost $200 (which she probably didn't really need to begin with), and so many other small and generous things added up, we made $1600!

Sidenote: this is one of the big ticket items that didn't sell yet. I'm putting it on craigslist, but thought I'd mention it. Full surround sound 8 speaker system (plus receiver) in pristine condition. Anyone interested? Make an offer! Can't ship, so I suppose it's only for local-ish peeps!

But back to the sale, I always hesitate to single anyone out for thanks, b/c it was such an effort from dozens of people, but I did remember to snap a pic right before a bunch of girls left on Thursday night. They helped me organize, price, hang signs, etc. I'm sure they will not be in favor of posting this pic of them in their work clothes. :) They are Molly, Becky, Amy, [me], Kate, Kristen and Candace. Big shout out also to Jenn, who left right before this picture was taken AND came to work the sale with me on Saturday. I couldn't have done the sale without help from my sis-in-law, Michelle, and my parents who were a HUGE help all week. My in-laws watched the kids so I could run the sale, which was also SO helpful! But like I said--that's just the tip of the supportive iceburg, so please don't feel slighted if I didn't mention you by name!

This was a pic of the yard was taken on the SECOND day! We sold a ton of stuff the first day--over $850--so this was really scaled down compared to the beginning of Friday. I felt oddly satisfied when I guy came up the driveway after following the signs and said "You weren't kidding! This IS a huge sale!" We had several tables full of stuff that you can't clearly see in the pics.

So today I'm feeling grateful, blessed, tired and sore. I can't wait to tell Baby T someday how hard we worked to bring him (or her) home and how so many people in our lives were willing to help in any way they could. The next few weeks are still really busy, with birthday parties, VBS, two long weekends away--one with each side of the family, Syd's birthday and, you know, hopefully A REFERRAL in there somewhere. I promise to keep you updated as soon as I can!

My favorite bed head.

2011-06-07T16:19:00.000-07:00

You will not hear from me for a while. I am the girl who got eaten by her own garage sale. Once again, we are overwhelmed by the generosity of so many people who have donated their used stuff for us to sell and raise money towards our adoption fund. But right now? I'm drowning in the generosity! It's hard to move around in our garage, and we still have a few more pick ups! Pray for me, people. Pray for me. And also, come shop this Friday-Saturday, 9-5 if you are in the area. :)

So I will leave you with this: the best red bed head you've ever seen:

See you on the other side!

Seriously cool.

2011-06-05T19:02:00.000-07:00

I spent Friday and Saturday helping my sisters-in-law (one for real and one practically) at their children's consignment sale. It's a twice-yearly event that has completely caught fire. WOW! They had an entire gymnasium crammed full of clothing, toys, gear, etc. Over 13,000 items for sale. Within 15 minutes of opening, we had two lines down the length of the gym, and it didn't slow down for hours. It was busy and fun and tiring and worth it!

But imagine my surprise when I got home on Saturday to recharge my dead phone and saw THIS PICTURE in my messages: Those are some of our best friends in Southern California who had planned and held a garage sale for OUR Thai baby fund and kept it a secret until after the fact! The ring leaders are there in the middle--Sarah and Kipp, and their tireless helpers who worked their tails off are our dear friend Stephanie and Sarah's parents, Nancy and Lonnie. They all collected and donated items, and worked the sale itself. I couldn't believe it. It should not surprise you to know that I--wait for it--burst into tears.
I KNOW yard sales are a lot of work. I'm in the middle of planning and prepping for one THIS Friday! I just think it one of the most sacrificial, selfless things anyone has ever done for us! (Really for our baby, but also for us.) Did they have a few hundred bucks to give to our adoption? Nope. So they figured out a way to get it. We are so humbled and grateful!

When I talked to Sarah on the phone, the thing that I couldn't believe was how many people helped her pull this off. She told people about our adoption--people who DON'T EVEN KNOW US--and they gladly donated items. Amazing! As each month goes by, I get more and more excited for our kiddo, knowing how loved he or she is before anyone even knows their name! That is a GIFT that I will cherish forever.

Thank you guys! We love you!

Yes, honey! That barkdust piece is spectacular!

2011-06-02T20:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the innocence of a child is just so totally precious. Or "totes presh" as my friend Lori would say. Like when a little one looks up at the sky and says "It's so beautiful, Mommy! God made that!" [Ok, full disclosure, none of my children have actually SAID that, but they've said things in a similar vein of sickeningly adorable.] I love that my son will get excited at simple things, like whenever we see a train, a truck carrying hay ("HEY!" we all shout. Never gets old.) or anything remotely related to Star Wars. My daughter just needs to see something purple in the world and she is giddy with excitement to point it out to me.

But let's be honest. Sometimes that sickeningly adorable cuteness is just, well, sickeningly tiresome. "Yes, Sydney, you found another purple block in your huge bag of pink and purple blocks. Can I get back to my shower now, sweetums?" "Yes, I'm still watching, Carson. That almost-somersault was cool. That one too. Oh, yep, awesome like the last 42. What? Yes, yes, I'm still watching." It's not that I mind that THEY are excited about things, it's just that sometimes I get tired of acting equally as excited about a wet leaf that got stuck on the fence while I was making dinner. (It was on the FAR side of the yard, ya'll, and I was led to believe it was an imminent emergency.) Hello, burnt chicken breast.

But this last weekend we hit the jackpot for easily entertained children. We were with my in-laws at my husband's paternal grandparents home. They have both passed away (that's Carson/Sydney's GREAT-grandparents, not my in-laws), and we were moving stuff out of the home they bought in the seventies. If you can imagine a couple who lived through the depression, packing their lives into a single wide mobile home for over 20 years, you might guess that they place was packed in every nook and cranny with stuff. And a lot of that stuff was inconsequential to the adults...but to my kids it was TREASURE, and nothing less.

My supersmart MIL lucked upon a couple of small-ish tool-ish boxes, one for each kid. As she went through bathroom cabinets and dresser drawers, she was able to add little interesting pieces to each box.

This is Sydney's box. FYI, it was left under a seat in our mini (a nickname I totally stole from Joy), and those marbles? Make a racket like...well, actually it sounds exactly like you'd think 20 loose glass marbles would sound being tossed around in a metal box left and right everytime you turn the wheel.

This was Carson's box, and being five, not two, he appreciated it all the more. Sidenote, "The Lookies" is evidently a comic of sorts about two inquisitive children who adore learning new information so much that they always "look it up." It is not, thank goodness, some perverted peeping-tom-esque material, as it appears initially.

The other sweet time-killer was that pocket-sized encyclopedia of MAMMALS. Carson fervently poured over the first 6 pages of it, and insisted we go looking for Mexican-free tailed bats or a lynx. I pointed out to him that, taking in consideration the habitat we were exploring, we were more likely to find a squirrel. He insisted it be a golden-mantled ground squirrel. You, dear reader, must also take into consideration that our "habitat" was a mobile home park for senior citizens, and that I was hunting with two stomping mammals who don't understand the concept of "WHISPERING." So, the only mammals we spotted were ornamental owls, cats, squirrels and even cows. (2) Carson got into an argument with his grandma when she said a human was a mammal. He still is mad at me for taking her side on that one.

But the thing that I fear more than anything --actually, the thing I fear more than anything is being in an port-a-potty when it is tipped, but the thing I fear almost as much--is my children's LOSS of innocence. I have to keep reminding myself that, yes, it can be tiring pretending to be excited about a collection of shattered sand-dollars. But I will be so sad when my kids are too cool to collect shells. Or marbles. Or odd mid-century angel figurines that fit into a box.
*
So bring on the wet leaves! The purple blocks! I can't wait to share in your excitement, my sweet little [golden mantled ground] squirrels.

If Toddlers Were Adults

2011-05-30T19:24:00.001-07:00

There's this blogger, Missy, who doesn't know me from Adam, but in my mind we're BFF's. Yes, it's a little Single White Female-ish, but when someone makes me laugh like she does--you HAVE to read her post about the Marriage Bed--and nod my head with that "Uh-HUH. AMEN!" thing when I read this post, then in my world? We are besties.

Well, several weeks (months? who knows, b/c I can't find the actual post) ago, Missy said something in a post about how the frustrating thing about 2 year olds is that they are at their height of cuteness and also height of stab-me-in-the-eye-if-I-hear-one-more-second-of-whining-ness. Well, that's the Brazenlilly paraphrase. She was refering to the whining, the mind-changing, the power-struggles, the testing, etc. But she made a very professional observation that many times abusive parents lose their cool because they don't understand a child's development--they expect them to behave like a grown-up. The adult doesn't compute that the child CAN'T behave like an adult--it's beyond their capabilities. And even those of us who, by the grace of God, are not abusive but still lose our cool and/or our sanity on a daily basis, we know in our heads that, of course they don't act like adults, b/c they are NOT adults. But still? We lose our cool and/or our sanity on a daily basis. Did I already say that? It's worth repeating. I lose my cool and/or my sanity on a DAILY. BASIS.

But as my 5 year old and especially my almost-three-year-old are expanding their repertoire of behaviors and routines that have me running out of Lamaze calming techniques, I can't help but note that it is this non-adult-acceptable factor that sends me over the edge. I mean, if I acted to one of my friends the way she does to me, I WOULD HAVE NO FRIENDS.

To amuse myself (and now you) I laid in bed translating Sydney's recent stunts to the adult world. Imagine if you will, I'm over at my friend Becky's house. The week before, she had said "come over to hang out and have some coffee." Well, after 2 hours of chatting, it's 4:45pm, Becky thinks we're wrapping up, and suddenly I have a hankering for some coffee. Kind as she is, Becky sweetly tells me that sorry, the only coffee she has is in the freezer in the garage, which has 3 boxes on top of it, and it's not ground up.

"Oh, Becky! Please, please! I really, really, REALLY want some coffee! You TOLD ME we were going to have coffee! YOU TOLD ME!"

So, slightly annoyed, but ever the generous hostess, Becky stops feeding a bottle to her infant daughter to go unbury the coffee beans. She asks if I would continue feeding the baby, but I assure her that I absolutely can't because I'm holding my People magazine.

So the baby cries while Becky spends 10 minutes getting the bag of beans, coming back sweaty and irritated. I ask what took her so long, and does she remember? I REEEEEAAAALLLY want coffee! She puts the bag on the table and picks up the baby to finish off the bottle, while I get distracted by the television. When the baby is calm, she opens up the new bag, gets the coffee grinder from the back of the lowest cabinet and starts to grind the coffee beans for me. Just as the baby spits up all over her shirt:

"BECKY!!" I yell in anger. "I CAN'T HEAR THE TV!" And because I'm not a complete neanderthal, I make sure to use the magic word: "PLEASE STOP DOING THAT!" Becky, voice getting a teensy bit testy, reminds me that she is just getting me THE COFFEE that I have been relentlessly asking for, and that she can't make it without grinding the beans. Against my will, I accept this explanation.

As she finally puts the coffee in the pot and starts it up, I come over and watch it brew. I make little urgent moaning and guttural noises while absent-mindedly banging my hands on the counter top, as if that will make the pot work quicker. Being sure not to complain TO Becky, but just not able to control myself, I start talking to the coffee maker itself, which is an inanimate object, so technically not being rude to my hostess. "Hurry UP!" I say through gritted teeth. "I really want COFFEE!" Becky is fuming silently, and counting the minutes until my precious coffee is ready so rid me from her sight.

At LONG last, the brewing stops and Becky grabs a mug and pours me a cup. I take the mug and walk to the fridge, looking for the creamer. I say with annoyance on the verge of panic: "Where's the coffee creamer?!" Becky calmly tells me that she doesn't have any. That I never mentioned that I needed coffee creamer. Sorry.

"WHAT?! This is HORRIBLE!" I say, falling dramatically down into a heap on the nearest chair, splashing hot coffee everywhere. Then I channel my inner Hulk. "I cannot, I mean CANNOT have coffee without coffee creamer! Why don't you have coffee creamer?!?! YUCK." And with that? I pour the coffee down the drain. And Becky has HAD ENOUGH. She firmly sends me straight to my room for a long time out. Or goes to the drawer and pulls out the wooden spoon. Or goes ape-poop crazy at my ridiculous, UNACCEPTABLE behavior and will never, EVER let me step foot in her kitchen again! And calls on every ounce of Holy Spirit strength in her body to keep from grabbing the full pot and hurling it against the nearest wall just to get out some frustration in the glorious CRASH. Except Becky is me, and I'm Sydney, and she loves me unconditionally and forgives me once again. And offers me a cup of tea instead. Which I smile and take with a huge smile and innocent thank you--like nothing ever happened.

And this concludes tonight's version of: If Toddlers Were Adults. Thank you for joining me. Stay tuned for: If Husbands Were Wives, starring me and my sister-in-law Jess, as we have a competition to see whose farts smell worse.

Heavy

2011-05-27T07:19:00.001-07:00

Oi. I haven't blogged lately. Our lives have been crammed full to max capacity, and will continue to be for at least 2 more weeks until we have our garage sale on June 10-11. Also? I have been kind of not wanting to process through the tornado in Joplin. About 10 years ago, I did an internship at a wonderful organization based in Joplin. It was my senior year in college, and I think we can all testify that around that age, when you're about to embark on the "real world," you do a lot of thinking and philosophizing about yourself, your life and your beliefs. I spent a formative 4 months living in Joplin, driving the streets, shopping the stores, working long hours for a ministry I truly believe in. I made life-long friends there, ones that I cherish and am still in contact with. It was only 4 months (with about 4 more visits over the next few years), but Jo, MO, as we called it, will always have a special place in my heart. I'm hesitant to write about this, b/c I think it can come across as "It's all about me" kind of sentiment, but I just mean to say that my heart is heavy in a different way because of a connection while there.

When I first heard of the tornado, it was a concerned mention on Facebook on Sunday afternoon. I immediately left messages for the two I'm closest with, a couple named Kevin and Debbie asking if they were ok. These 2 completely took me under their wings that summer--we traveled across the united states together from Missouri to California and back, with their three young boys (who are now all married!). At that point on Sunday, I didn't know if they'd be laughing at my worry: "Oh Jen! We have tornadoes whip through here all the time! Silly west coast girl!" In fact, in the short time I lived in Joplin, we did have 3 tornado warnings in which we had to take cover in the basement. No one seemed particularly upset about the whole routine at the time. But as the hours went on last Sunday, and frantic posts and news reporst started to surface, I realized that my worry was valid. I was seeing "We're OK, but this is BAD," status updates from my other Joplin friends. Finally I saw on another friend's post that Kevin and Debbie were OK, but that they did live near the devastation, their house was damaged and they had no power to get online. I won't post it, to protect their privacy, but one news outlet posted a google map of the path of the destruction in Joplin. Out of curiosity, I took their address and google mapped it. Their address was definitely in the red path, just along the edge of the tornado. Their house was damaged, but they were spared. The one post Debbie has been able to update was full of grief--just down the street from them, the houses are leveled and lives were lost.

I've been having major flashbacks to my feelings after the earthquake in Haiti. I had also experienced a life-changing visit to Haiti years prior. (But although that tragedy led us down the adoption road, don't worry. We can't apply for another one until this one is home. ;)) Somehow when a tragedy occurs in a place you are familiar with, it makes the stories and the situation seem so much more personal. You can't just generalize the devastation and loss in an unknown mental blur. I can't stop thinking of the times I was in that Joplin walmart and that home depot, and how full of terror the shoppers must have been when the walls, ceilings and debris came crashing around them, crushing them to death. Over 8,000 structures have been damaged in this SMALL town. I know of at least one alumni from the local Christian college (where most of my friends worked or attended) who lost his wife and 14 month old son. I literally had a nightmare last night about how that probably happened. I'm picturing the houses I visted in Joplin, and I already know that some of them are gone. I'm hearing stories of how my friends, their friends and their churches are working tirelessly to coordinate relief efforts, volunteers, and supplies. I have a guilty sense of relief that those close to me are safe, but many close to THEM are not. My friends are grief-stricken and have a long road ahead of them, but they are rising to the call. I don't need to post specific pictures, because you've probably seen plenty, but THIS ARTICLE has the best and most powerful before and after pics I've seen.

*
When we began our adoption process last year, and I started learning more about the plight of orphans around the world, I specifically remember praying this prayer: Break my heart for what breaks Yours. I have not always considered myself a compassionate person. Nice, yes, but compassion for those I don't know was not my gift. It was easy to shout out a quick prayer for some far away catastrophe, then go on my day with no sadness. Although it is painful, and the empathetic sorrow can be overwhelming, I believe God has answered my prayer, and has used the disasters of these two familiar places to continue breaking my heart. To push me to a point of compassion and sacrfice, and out of my comfortable bubble. It seems a broken heart is much more willing to be changed and used than a whole heart. I remember a couple years ago, I read about how successful the Breast Cancer Awareness campaigns have been over the last several years. I thought to myself--ok, we're aware. Now what? Awareness is only the first step. ACTION has to follow awareness, or it is useless. God has made me painfully aware of hurting lives, now I need to do something about that.

In all reality, action often takes the form of financial support. If you are feeling broken over what happened in Joplin, here are some places to take action:

CIY's tornado response site

College Heights Church--a major storm relief center

text "JOPLIN" to 864833 to donate $10 to Missouri United Way

http://www.redcross.org/

And please pray for Joplin.

When is the carnival?

2011-05-21T14:06:00.000-07:00

Each May our town has it's special festival--almost every town has their thing, and ours is the third weekend in May. As part of the festivities, they bring one of those chintzy carnivals to the Target parking lot. You know the ones--rides that can fit on semi-trucks that last 22 seconds and cost $4 per person. Elephant ears for $6. "Prizes" that probably cost 6 cents and are broken before you get back in the car. Well, Carson? LOVES THE CARNIVAL. I am not kidding you when I say he started asking in JUNE of last year when the carnival was coming back. I remember, b/c I had to give seasonal references: it's after your birthday, Christmas and even Easter. It's not for a LONG TIME, buddy.

Well, it FINALLY came, and we've driven past the Target parking lot all week in anticipation of the big event. We sported our town pride and went to the parade, then sprinted over to the festival to painfully part with $20 just for the joy it would give my children. On the way there, Sydney was caught up in the excitement and asked with a huge smile, "We get to go on Toy Story ride?!" Trent and I both just started laughing. Oh, sweet Sydney. We tried to explain that the Toy Story ride at Disneyland is the best of the best, and what we were about to experience is...not the best. God bless her youth and innocence--she didn't complain one bit. Each kids got to do a game:
...and a couple of rides. We explained to Carson that he could do more rides if he was willing to go by himself, b/c we had to use up tickets if one of us rode with him. That was enough to convince him. We were a little unsure (as I think he was) about it, considering his debilitating fear that came over him at Dland, but he did great.

Then he and Sydney went on a ride together, which was pretty adorable.

This is mid-ride.

Syd actually liked it so much she chose to go on it again by herself.

And after 20 minutes of agonizing decision-making (which is SO par for the course with this child), Carson chose to ride the roller coaster again. As you can see, this time he was full of confidence and immitating the tiger at the front of the coaster.

I joke (and we really did cringe) at the cost and the dirt and the *ahem* interesting employees, but really this type of thing is fun for us too. We had a morning together as a family watching our kids run around with excitement and bliss, ignorant of our snobby attitude and elitist amusement park mentality, just happy and living in the moment. And as we drove away, Carson asked when we can go again.

Oh boy.

I didn't know.

2011-05-20T22:37:00.001-07:00

I've heard myself say this outloud several times in the last 6 years: I just didn't know or appreciate how complicated this season of life is--when one starts a family. As a kid, even a young adult, I thought you have a plan and follow through with the plan. Find a guy, pick a month, take the test, tell your friends and family, plaster with pink or blue and VOILA! Stick 'em in your pocket and do everything you used to do.

This week I've just been reminded so clearly about how this is NOT how it works. This...this...decision (which in itself is not easy for every couple) to go from 2 to 3 (or more) can lead to things beautiful, tragic, amazing, challenging, horrific and nothing less than life-changing. The online world keeps me connected with a lot of people. In one week, people that I'm friends with--to some degree or another--have welcomed a new baby, have received a referral for an adopted child, have struggled with infertility news, and have lost a late-term pregnancy. One moment I had tears in my eyes with joy--the next I was sobbing with despair. Sheesh--you'd think I was pregnant! (I'M NOT.)

I don't really have a point in my ramblings, other than to just process these thoughts, because what can we do? IT'S NOT FAIR. Why does one couple get to have their family arrive exactly as they've always dreamed and another go through unspeakable pain before their arms are full? But I'm truly wanting to figure out for myself--what can I do? What is my response?

I read an article one time, written by a single mom. She basically directing her thoughts at all of us happily married women who tend to complain about our husbands from time to time. And she was not gentle--it was a good raking over the coals. How dare we complain about the way a loving father dresses his kids in mis-matched clothes? Or that he let them stay up too late while we were out with our girlfriends? Or that he loads the dishwasher wrong? As she pointed out--WHAT she wouldn't give to have a caring husband, willing to dress and love her children while she had a break. She NEVER has anyone else to load her dishwasher or her dryer. Or rub her neck at the end of a long day. The bottom line was: shut up and appreciate your spouse.

Another blog I read was by a young mom who had lost HER mother to cancer. She BEGGED those of us whose mothers were alive and well to make sure that we expressed our love and let our mothers into our lives as much as possible. You could hear the emotion in her writing as she exclaimed how badly her heart ached for just one more day with her mom. How angry and sad she was to see her friends who refused to mend broken relationships with their moms, when she knew all to well the feeling of never being able to speak with hers again.

I've never forgotten the messages from these two women, and I can't help but bring it to my own searching for answers. For some reason, I was blessed with two healthy pregnancies and two healthy babies, and Lord willing will welcome a third baby into my home and heart. I can't change my story, nor those of my hurting friends, but I can weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. I can be grateful and be intentional about appreciating my little blessings, even when I don't feel appreciative at all. I will never, EVER forget that every child's life is a MIRACLE and nothing less. And I will pray for miracles to happen for every family whose hearts and arms are waiting to be filled.

I didn't know, but now I do. And it changes everything about the way I view motherhood.

I'm too tired to blog.

2011-05-17T21:08:00.000-07:00

So here's some pics of things that have been keeping us busy:

Carson's t-ball games. He got to play pitcher one night! He did not like the feeling of the long catcher's gear between his legs. To reach a ball on the ground, he did a strange, awkward yoga pose. It was pretty humorous! Mom's Day party at preschool! Carson made my necklace and dipped my strawberry in chocolate. I promise he was more excited than he looks in this picture.

That's all I got. Lots of subbing this week, so I'm pooped! Have I mentioned how much I respect full-time working mothers?!?

One of my favorite things.

2011-05-13T14:20:00.001-07:00

This post is completely random. In fact, sidebar, several weeks back I was bestowed the wonderful honor of "Most Versatile Blogger" award (one of several--I won't get cocky) by my friend Kristin. I was quite flattered, but never got around to returning the favor and choosing my own favorite versatile bloggers. But it did remind me of one of my most random posts ever, and also the one that gets the most googled--the anatomy of a perfect dish brush.

So this post, neither here nor there, not about children or current events or adoption or parenting, just something in my life that's pleasantly meeting (perhaps exceeding) my expectations.

See, we live in a medium-sized town adjacent to a larger town/city. We do pretty much everything within the city limits of the OTHER town, but enjoy where we live. However, when I went to get a library card at the only big library in the area, I was told that I could not have a normal library card, b/c I don't pay taxes in THAT city. Out of the kindness of their hearts, they would allow me to check out ONE book at a time, or pay $75 a year to have a regular library card. The really good (and truly kind) caveat to the rule is that kids can check out 20 books at a time. When I got Sydney's card a few months ago, the librarian told me very sternly to remember that the day she turns 19 she will only be able to check out one book at a time. I stifled a laugh and assured her that I understood.

So after that disappointing news, I got into a terrible habit of buying paperbacks every time I was at Costco to feed my reading habit. It was breaking the bank and even I could see it was not smart. But what is a crazy reader to do? I needed access to books!

Then I read about a website called Paperback Swap. Basically, it's an online group of people who want to trade books. You post a list of books that you own and would be willing to mail if someone requested one of them. Each time that happens and you mail it (usually it's about $2.75 media mail) you get one credit. Everyone who joins starts out with 2 credits automatically. One option they have that I love is that you can print out an address label WITH postage for about 50 cents extra--saving me a trip to the post office, b/c I can just drop it in the nearest mailbox.

Of course, the more popular/desirable your books are, the more likely it is that someone will request them and you will get a credit. I've seen lots of completely obscure books posted and wonder if anyone will ever give that poor person a credit. But this has worked in my favor, b/c I tend to like to read novels that are either classics or popular in the last few years. After I read them, I post them on the site again for someone else to request. Since I've joined (over a year) I've mailed about 15 books and received about 10. I've never run out of credits. They don't always have books that are at the height of popularity (Hunger Games) but you can create a wishlist and receive an email when a member posts the book you've been looking for.

In summary: this is one of my favorite things: Paperbackswap.com. If you've got a recommendation for a good book, send it my way! I've got 5 credits to work with!

Baby on the brain.

2011-05-10T13:02:00.000-07:00

I think I've subconsciously been avoiding blogging about the adoption, because there is nothing to report. No fundraisers, no paperwork completion, nothing but WAITING. Waiting for the last week in June. Our lives seem to run at breakneck speed (except in the afternoons on weekdays, when I feel like time stands still to drive me bonkers), and I always think it will distract me from my anxious waiting, yet I still am marking the weeks until June. My waiting mama friend Jenn blogged today, and it inspired me to do the same. She wrote about how we imagine our baby, what they are doing, how old they are, what milestones they are learning, who is loving on them and are they loving on them enough?! I'm glad we've kept the crib up in Sydney's room, b/c it's a constant reminder that it WILL be used again. We've also entered into the time when I'm pretty sure Peanut will be home by this time next year, so I'm saying things like: "Next Easter we'll be a family of five and I'll buy everyone matching outfits!" or "This is my last Mother's Day with only 2 kids in our house!"

There are little things I do to make the wait less painful. I read other blogs of people who have traveled to get their kiddos. I learn silly elephant songs. I use my precious spending money to buy books for us to practice Thai and a baby book specifically for adopted children. I find other exciting book ideas (Good Night Moon is our FAVORITE!), but need to wait a while before spending more money! I get such horrible food poisoning that I don't have any coherent thoughts for 2 days. And I try to read adoption books too.

The most recent book I read was Toddler Adoption: The Weaver's Craft by Mary Hopkins-Best. It was a good one and covered a wide-range of topics relating to adopting a child between 12-36 months. The author pointed out something that should be obvious, but is not always: a child adopted as a toddler has different needs than a child adopted as an infant or an older child. They are old enough to understand that something seems VERY wrong, but not old enough to comprehend any explanation given them, or to verbalize their fears and anxieties. Hopkins-Best interviewed over 200 families who had adopted toddlers and examined their "satisfaction" with the adoption process. "There was a strong relationship between how satisfied parents were with their adoption and how realistic their expectations were regarding the child's needs and behaviors." The rest of the book goes on to work through those realistic expectations and it was at times sobering, encouraging and informative. I think as naive pre-adoptive parents, we're convinced that since we will love all of our children equally, that we'll be able to parent them equally. When in fact, we don't parent our bio children in the same way, so we'll definitely need to be flexible and prepared to parent our child with unique needs and hurts.

But I definitely cannot escape the emotional drain of a "2 year pregnancy." I'm sorting through baby clothes, weeping over my oldest's lost infancy, and realizing that I'm currently missing my youngest's infancy. It stings, and I think that sting will only get stronger when I KNOW his/her face and can't hop on a plane and hold them immediately. I stumbled on a verse a couple weeks ago that I'm clinging too. It is Psalm 27:14, and we now have it written in our dining room.

"Wait on the Lord. Be strong and take heart. And wait on the Lord."

So right now? That's my plan.

Uncharacteristic, definitely.

2011-05-06T19:44:00.000-07:00

Last fall, my friends Stephanie and Jenna told me, Becky and Sarah about a crazy, fun race they heard about called the Warrior Dash. It is technically a 5K "race" but this is no ordinary 5K. It is a crazy, muddy obstacle course. Where many participants wear wild and obnoxious wigs, hats or costumes. Steph and Jenna had been talked into doing it, and successfully convinced the three of us to agree that WE would do it! We looked at the website and discussed how insane it was, but completely caved to the pressure of doing it together. Plus, we heard that many people don't really RUN the race, but do it for the fun of the obstacles and kind of end up walking in between. Not that I think it will be easy--in fact, the idea that it was something lurking on the calendar to motivate me to train was part of the appeal. But it really seems like a "just surrender your dignity and embrace your inner child" kind of experience.

After attempting to sign up a few times and having technical difficulties with the website, I FINALLY remembered to sign up this week. Before I did, I looked at hundreds of pictures on the FB fan page, read all the health warnings, restrictions, etc. I rolled my eyes at my own ridiculousness and went for it. That night I told Trent that I had registered. He gave a mellow "Oh. Cool." Which, to be honest, was a little disappointing, because if I'm not going to get some major credit for at least committing to something as wild and UN-JEN as this, what IS going to impress this guy?!

Well. Seems Mr. Trent did not fully understand what the Warrior Dash is. He thought it was like a 5K on a trail. The next day at work, he mentioned to his co-workers that I was doing it, and they were surprised. One colleague, in particular, starting regaling Trent of the wild and challenging obstacles, like running through a pond and jumping over floating logs, crawling through mud with barbed wire overhead, jumping over flaming logs. (All of which I'd heard and also heard it's not as bad as it sounds.) I was in total understanding that I will be covered head-to-toe in mud, but Trent was IN SHOCK that I would willingly submit myself to such undignified (and hard!) activities. He surely sat at the lunch table with sandwich in his hand, uneaten. Jaw-dropped and eyes all buggy, saying "There's NO WAY Jen knows about this!" He called me up immediately, extremely concerned that I had been unknowingly coerced into this ritual and my ignorance was going to cause me great stress.

THAT made me laugh. Cause I did! And I signed up anyway! Yeah me! Yeah Stephanie and Jenna!

Because NOPE. This is not my usual type of leisure activity. I would rather curl up and watch a movie. Even when it's sunny, I'm all up for a walk or bike ride, but then I'd like to curl up and read a book in the shade. I like all types of curling up. Not as comfortable with the sliding down a mud hill and climbing up a rope ladder to scale a wall. But that is what makes it such an INTRIGUING challenge! And something to get me un-curled for once. Plus, now I've talked TWO MORE friends into doing it with me.

And guess who will be following along the whole way with a camera and taking lots of pictures to show proof to his coworkers that his wife jumped over burning logs? Trento. Which, in truth, is completely uncharacteristic of him.

Not as planned.

2011-05-02T18:14:00.000-07:00

Just a warning, this post may contain some TMI, and not the fun "wink, wink, nudge, nudge" kind you might be expecting after a romantic weekend getaway.

The weekend started out wonderfully! We had a great first day, Trent booked a really neat Inn on the Oregon coast that I will totally recommend to anyone. HUGE room with fireplace and ocean view, private ocean access, everything felt new and clean, and we got a great deal for the off-season. The sun was shining and we decided to make the 20 minute drive to a highly-recommended sea-food restaurant overlooking a cove. The sun was setting, and the food was SO good! I was very proud of myself (normally a little seafood shy) of ordering the nightly special, which was the Bangkok Special, a yellow curry and ginger sauce with linguine, asian style vegetables, scallops, shrimp and ahi. It tasted delicious and other than the shrimp, which I gave to Trent, I ate most of it!

Fast forward to 1 am, I'm leaning over the new and clean toilet puking up the Bangkok Special. I had had an "adult beverage" after dinner, so I figured it was just a bad combo. But by morning, when the puking and *ahem* other food poisoning symptoms persisted, we were both pretty sure it was something I ate.

I didn't leave the room ALL DAY. I didn't leave the big, comfy King sized bed all day, except to go back to that toilet. Poor Trent! It was gorgeous outside, so he took walks by himself, watched lots of ESPN, read the majority of the book I bought him, and basically stopped telling me when he was coming or going, since I was in the fetal position half conscious and--I think--moaning a bit. Instead of wearing one of the cute dresses that I had borrowed for our official anniversary dinner, I stayed in my pj's for 32 hours. Trent had Quiznos by himself. Even when there were NO CONTENTS left in my stomach, my body still punished me by puking up what must be green stomach acid. (Told ya! TMI!)

My dear husband of 10 years was a great sport and just kept saying it wasn't my fault, there was nothing I could do about it and that he was getting plenty of relaxing in. :(

After a decent night's sleep, and a solid 8 hour break from the vomiting, I was determined to get out and enjoy our last morning together. Of course, getting out of bed and showering caused me to upchuck once more just for good measure, but I did it and got dressed. We went out to breakfast, where the little cafe waitresses surely thought I had an eating disorder after nibbling on a fruit bowl and getting it to go. This picture will be cherished by me, because it is THE ONLY ONE we got during the entire weekend! And after walking out to the rocks and back, I was exhausted and completely spent. But I kept saying--this will be a funny story someday! Or at least an interesting blog post later this week. :)

April 28

2011-04-27T21:34:00.000-07:00

On April 28, 2001, I finally married the former commitment-phobe with the quick wit, crooked smile and gorgeous blue eyes. It's been TEN YEARS and I love him more each day. I'd get way too sentimental and sappy if I wrote all the ways that I love, respect, admire and appreciate him, so instead I'm posting some pictures of our 14.75 years together (including dating). I could not have dreamed up a more amazing and blessed life than the two of us are living right now. He is a wonderful husband, an amazing father and such a hard worker. Happy anniversary, Babe! I love you always.

This was taken just weeks after we started dating. I can tell because of my eyebrows and his hair cut. Did I mention 4.75 years of dating?!

That meant quite a few school dances...

Our engagement picture.

The big day! Can't believe it's been 10 years.

He looks exactly the same!

Honeymoon in Hawaii.

Grad school for Dr. Tompkins. He said on this day that I should call him Doctor. That joke lasted for 11 months, at which time I graduated and insisted he call me Master.

Christmases with just the 2 of us.Europe.

New York City.

Then the real adventure began...

Baby #1

Baby #2

Imperfect and happy...ever after.