The Birthday Surprise

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.

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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.

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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!

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

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

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

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!

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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.

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. :)

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

See you on the other side!

Seriously cool.

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!

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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!

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.
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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

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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/

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And please pray for Joplin.

When is the carnival?

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.

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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.

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.

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.

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.

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!"

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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.

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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.

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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.

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.

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.

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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!

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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.

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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!)

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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. :)