A Warped Pleasure

Bub stole Hubby's toothbrush, chewed it up, and put it away in the kid's bathroom. This is, predictibly, really irritating to my husband. And though I wish him no ill will, and find Hubby's irritation to be well founded, I am amused. Couldn't tell you why.

Patterns at the Zoo by E

Adoption

I've never lived through infertility. I've watched a dear friend suffer miscarriage after miscarriage; I've cried with her. But I have not know the desperate longing for a child that somepeople endure. I don't really get it.

What I do understand is the miracle of adoption. Don't get me wrong, it was absolutely miraculous that my bio children grew inside my body, and then I sustained them from my body for their first months of life. I love my bio kids; they are treasures. But there is something equally miraculous about God taking a child who did not grow in my body and carries none of my DNA and giving her to me to love. He rescued her out of a situation she surely would not have survived and placed her into our arms, and as soon she was in my arms He wound her into my heart. I have children of my body, and a child of my heart. And somehow the love is the same.

There is something different about our expierience of bringing a child into our home by adoption though. Adoption pleases God; it brings him pleasure. When Abby came home I felt God's smile.

God uses metaphors and word pictures throughout the Bible to demonstrate his love for us. Adoption is a living picture of God's plan to bring us into His family. When we surrender our lives to him we become his children. We bear his name, and are entitled to his inheritence. I was a spiritual orphan and I became a daughter of the Most High King. If that's not adoption I don't know what is.

Here is my point. There are many couples out there who's hearts are breaking with the longing to hold a child of thier own. They are childless. And there are many many children out there who are desperately needing a mommy to hold them and a daddy to protect them. They are the fatherless. The equation seems to have a simple solution. Adoption. There is a miracle to be had. There is a blessing to be bestowed. And really you don't even have to be childless to enjoy it.

Adopting Baby has been one of the scariest, most challenging, outrageous blessings of my life. I don't want anyone who feels even the slightest calling to miss out on the joy.

Tagged By My Sister

10 years ago:I was cute and skinny and insecure and clueless. 20 something is over-rated, but skinny was nice.

Things on my to-do list today: (that didn't get done)
-laundry, laundry, laundry
-mop filthy floor
-finish reading book

Three of my bad habits:
1. chocolate
2. chocolate
3. chocolate


Five jobs I have had:
1. HollyBerry Flower shop
2. Omega Consulting Group
3. Information Technology Services at CU
4. Very short stint as a care taker for the elderly (I didn't even make it 2 weeks)
5. Boulder County Public Schools Registrar

5 things people don't know about me:
1. Helium baloons give me the bajeebies
2. I really like lime green
3. I'm allergic to metal and can't wear earrings
4. I got my belly button pierced anyway...not sure why I thought my bellybutton could tollerate metal better than my earlobes...it wasn't pretty
5. I like unusual socks

Prone to Wander

This morning I went to put the baby down for her morning nap, and an ungodly racket ensued. Two of my children decided to throw a gigantic fit about not being able to open the baby gate at the top of my stairs. I hollered out that they would have to wait for help because I was busy, and there is 1 mommy and 4 kids. One kid piped down and one kid escalated. If you know my children I bet you can guess the child who escalated but, as a courtesy, this child shall remain nameless.

The wailing and crying was completely out of control, and out of proportion to the issue at hand. It is just not that big of deal to wait a couple minutes to be able to go upstairs.

I decided to help my child learn that s/he had a choice and that s/he COULD choose different behavior. My requirement was simple. The discipline would be concludede as soon as the child could sit next to me (without flopping an wallering like a pig) quietly for several minutes (no crying or running commentaries on the woes of being a child with such a cruel and unfair mother). Guess how long I sat waiting for my child to comply. 1 hour. It took my child 1 hour to choose to sit quietly next to me for probably 3 minutes. We had both decided that this was a hill worth dying on, and I came out victorious. But I am more convinced than ever that I have a strong willed child. The issue was compliance, or lack thereof. It was an unwillingness to bend to anothers will. Of all the ways to spend ones childhood flopping and screaming on the couch for an hour doesn't seem like a good one. But the thing about defiance is that it usually hurts the one being defiant the most.

The sad truth is that sometimes I do the same thing as my child. I willfully choose things that I know are not in my best interest because I want what I want when I want it. Take french bread for instance. I adore french bread. Adore it. But I am aware that it is not a good idea to eat an entire loaf at one sitting. But not too long ago I ate almost an entire loaf in the course of 36 hours. After all it had been years since I'd been able to eat french bread; wasn't I entitled? I had a choice, and I chose gluttony. That is one of the grossest sounding words in the English language, and I don't want to 'fess up to it. But there it is. I was defiant. I knew what was right and didn't choose it.

There is an old hymn that says, "Prone to wander, Lord I feel it..." To that I heartily agree, "Me too!" Just my child, I am prone to wander from what is best. When will I grow up?

Bub, On Adoption

Bub

It turns out Bub's diagnosis of Perthes Disease is not so clear cut. Other symptoms have come up and now nobody's quite sure what the deal is. The possibilities range from nothing to some very very serious diseases. We get to wait until March to begin testing. Waiting is not my favorite thing. If you think about it pray that God will put the right doctors in our path, and that Bub will be fine.

Baked Oatmeal Recipe

3 C. oats
1/2 C. Brown Sugar
2 tsp. Baking Powder
1/2 tsp. Cinnamon
1/2 tsp. Salt
1 C. Milk (cow, soy rice etc.)
1/2 C. unsweetened applesauce
1 Egg (slightly beaten)
1 tsp. Vanilla
1/2 C. chopped drained canned peaches or frozen blueberries or whatever sounds good

Mix it all up. Dump into a greased 9x9 and bake at 350 for 30-35 minutes. Serve with yogurt on top. Makes great leftovers. Also, you can replace the applesauce w/ pumpkin puree, and use alternate sweetners like agave, honey or stevia.

Picture This...

Last night I got a migrane. My particular brand of migrane comes complete with auras. I "see the light" even when there is no light to be seen. My home remedy includes pounding a pot of coffee, a coctail of analgesics, and most importantly pushing on the bridge of my nose as hard as possible. Somehow the counter pressure helps.

This morning I woke up to discover that I had pushed so hard on the bridge of my nose that I had bruised it and caused it to swell. I look like a troll...a slightly disoriented, light sensitive troll. So, though my migrane is mostly at bay, I am still sporting my shades... and my fluffy white bath robe, and comfy slippers and pajama pants that shrunk in the wash. I am a sight to behold.

While we were waiting for our oatmeal bake to be done we curled up on the overstuffed chair to read our read-aloud, "Dr. Doolittle", at present. It was a double batch b/c I had use up our oatmeal so my son could take the oatmeal box and transform it into a Valentines Box for school on Friday. It took forever to bake, so we read 4 chapters. Snuggled up with my kiddos in my bath robe and sunglasses and reading about Dr. Doolittle's exploits, I though, "I am blessed." It was one of those sweet, distictly unglamourous moments, where I realized the richness I have in the simple things in life.

I would post a picture, but alas, I am too proud. You'll just have to use your imagination.

Go White Kids

The Ever Stylish Bub

Crabby Baby

Baby is apparently not a fan of Super Bowl parties.

Itty Bitty Addie and Grandma

Cousin

Manda and Ry! Doesn't he lood studious in E's glasses!

True Confessions

I confess; I love country music. I often listen to the country station in the car. The other day a kid in that back piped up, "Hey, Mom, what does it mean that the guy in the song wants a "domestic, light and cold"? Now, there is a question for ya. Anyway, is spawned a great conversation about alchohol and why people drink it. We talked about addiction, and what it means to be a wine connoisuer. We talked about using balance and wisdom. It was one of those moments that I was glad I was there to be the one to answer the questions.

I did have more trouble explaining why a guy in the other song sang that "it get's hotter when the Sun goes down." E pointed out that, scientifically speaking, this is just not accurate. "Yeah, your right, maybe the guy was confused..." was my brilliant comeback. Some discussion will have to wait.

I try not to let the kids listen to KYGO (our country music station) when I'm not there to filter it for them. But they do like country music now, and the lyrics are a far cry from worship songs. So what's the balance?

Another example: This morning we talked about homelessness. I told the kids that there are kids who live in the Metro area that dig through trash looking for their next meal. It's true. Bub was stunned, and disgusted. It's heavy stuff for a little guy, and truly we didn't dwell on it. But I cannot bring myself to insulate my kids from all the ugliness in the world. They are sheltered, but they should know that it's not all sunshine and roses. We live in a fallen world. Plus, it did get him to eat his Rice Crispies even though he was sure that he got fewer strawberries in his than his siblings. Yeah, I stooped that low. You would have too, if you'd heard the griping.

Parenting today is a challenge. It takes wisdom and sensitivity. Sometimes I get it right. Sometimes I bomb.

Orphan Care

It's looking like Baby's adoption won't be finalized until this summer. This puts us squarely in the middle of the adoption process. We've come along way, and we have a good ways left to go. Already, though. my heart is being wrung out for the other kiddos out there. They are the Waiting Children of the world. There are so many of them. We cannot adopt them all, but I've got a plan:

I was telling my sisters today that I think adoption is so cool that everyone should do it. That my plan - everyone should adopt. Baby has been such a blessing and a delight. Adoption is such a cool way to build families, and there are so many children who are waiting for someone to rescue them.

I know there are push backs when considering adoption. It can be expensive. It can be risky. It can be an emotional rollercoaster. It can be reason to greive if adoption is the alternative to pregnancy.

But despite the push backs, we've jumped in with both feet. And the view from here is different. It has been hard. In some ways harder than expected, but it has been so so worth it. The joy of having our four kids has well exceeded the emotional cost of brining the last one home.

So if your reading this, and you've ever considered adoption. Consider it again. Get the facts, learn the stories, see the faces. You may just be starting the adventure of a lifetime.