A Letter to John Owen

Today you are four! Four is a good age, a fun age. You are already an incredible little boy and everyday I catch glimpses of the man you'll be one day. You LOVE to talk and make jokes. You love to "play pretend". Sometimes I stand back when you don't know I'm watching and take in your imagination and creativity. You are shy sometimes, but you love people. You are determined and no never means no to you. It means find some other way. This can exasperate me sometimes, but I know that one day this determination will serve you well.
You love music. You already are selective in your choice of music. I like that about you.
You are rambunctious and loud and don't really have an inside voice. Even your laugh is loud, but mine is too, so I understand.
You are a lot like me. I see myself in you. We look a lot alike. You have my eyes and a lot of hair like me and I'm already starting to see a spattering of freckles on your face and arms. But you're like me on the inside too. We not quitters. We don't give up.
I see your dad in your easy smile and love of big groups of people. The more the merrier, right?
You are perceptive even at four. You notice things that even "big" people don't.
I never know what you're going to say. You are such a thinker and have so many words and SO much to say.
You are a special young man and I know God has a purpose and plan for your life. I see so much in you. You are my glimpse of your sister and what she might have looked like or been like. I see her in your eyes and your hair and the freckles on your face.
You are a great big brother. You love James even when he "frusterates" you. I love the way his eyes light up when he sees you. You have loved him well and that shows.
You are a helper by nature. You help with everything and mostly enjoy doing so.
You will do great things. You will make a mark in this world.
As I prepare for your birthday today, my chest tightens as I think of how quickly these years have passed. You love being with me now. You choose to be with me over anything else, but this momma knows that will change one day as it should. I cherish every minute I have with you even the hard ones. You are a precious gift to me, one that I hold with an open hand because you are not mine. You belong to your Creator. I pray everyday that I'm allowed to see you grow up into a Godly young man.
You really are our sunshine. You make me laugh more than anyone else. I love you dearly.
My prayer is that this year of being four is one full of more "play pretendin'" and race car racing and cupcake, doughnut makin'.
I am blessed.

86 miles

I like to run. 

I run a lot. 

Not a lot like these ultra runners, but I logged 86 miles in the month of July. I impressed myself. Sometimes though being a runner and being a M.O.B.-- mother of boys don't flow cohesively. 

Enter this bad boy--the stroller not the baby. 

I snagged it today from my new friend Jennifer, whom I just met when I bought this stroller from her today in the parking lot of Panera in Brannon Crossing. I paid 50 bucks and walked or better ran away this little piece of running freedom. 

Obviously my awesome husband accommodates my running or I wouldn't have logged 86 miles this month, but this blessed little (large) thing gives us all a little freedom and lets my boys have a little fun riding along on my runs. 

I know life is compared to a race. And what's important is that we run steady and that we finish well. Life has felt like a sprint lately and it's seemed to fly by at locomotive speed. 

I learn a lot about motherhood, life and this thing called adoption every day. Sometimes I miss the lesson because I'm caught up in the busyness of the day. Sometimes the lesson is tattooed into my brain. I'm thankful for the toughness of life because I learn so much more about God and what it means to live in obedience. 

It's Friday! I'm letting the lessons sink in and rejoicing in the addition of a new to me jogging stroller and a new friend!

I am blessed. 

I do nothing to deserve it. 

Can I get an amen?!

Enjoy your weekend!

M.O.B.--Personal Space

Being the mother of a boy or M.O.B. means NO PERSONAL SPACE. Being the mother of anyone really means that. I didn't expect my boys to be so entranced with me all the time. I thought at some point they would attach themselves (rightly so) to their dad and I would be left waiting for a snippet of their attention as they stomped through their house in their muddy shoes newly home from some grand adventure with dad.

This is a false thought. My boys seem to find everything I do fascinating. It's like I'm some incredibly entertaining toy that they must always be around. It's as if they think they're going to miss out on something I say or do or some expression I make if they aren't with me and not just with me, but touching my body at all times. (O.k., I'm exaggerating about the "touching my body" thing.)

I've often wondered why my children don't have black eyes or beat up faces from the many times I've taken a step sideways and elbowed them or "hip-bowed" them. And yes, my hips would leave a bruise.

I recently commented to my husband that I'm the most popular person in our house. EVERYONE wants to be wherever I am. He whole-heartedly agreed.

Popularity is a new thing for me. Growing up, the word popular never would have been attached to me name. "Nice" would have---if you can believe that. Time does have a way of sharpening a person up. (wink, wink) I was a bookie, you know the type. That girl who was quiet and nice to everyone, but mostly because she was quiet you thought she was nice and she read all the time. I mean like ALL THE TIME. If you asked me what my favorite thing to do was, I'd have said and I quote, "I like to read books." Is it any wonder I didn't go to my junior prom? Or senior prom for that matter? : )

I can't say I love being the most popular person in our house all the time. Sometimes when I'm just trying to get from the sink to the stove and there's a little person (or big person...Zack) in my way, I get a little...impatient. Or when I sneak off to the back bedroom just to put up clothes or make the bed (who am I kidding, I don't make the bed) and John Owen packs up the toys he's playing with in the living room and brings them all back to the room I'm in just so he can "be where you are momma." And then I have to help him pack them up and move them back to the living room. I may get a little irritated.

But then I think of the rapidly approaching future. It's like the days are flying by in this house. And I know that ONE day, sooner rather than later, they'll be asking to leave this house to go somewhere else where the real popular people live, where the real fun people are. And then I try to soak up the attention and tattoo it to my brain and remember the sweetness of the moment and that it's actually kind of nice to be desired so much. One day I know they'll discover that I'm not really popular. I'm just mom and I do really nice things for them like change their poop diapers and wipe their butts.

Recently John Owen revealed to me that he didn't want me to go to Heaven. When I asked him why, he said, "Who would fix my breakfast, lunch and dinner?"

Sigh. They really are sweet...most of the time.

A Belt is a Magical Thing

Time is not my friend. Before my very eyes my little boy, John Owen is becoming a little man. It's like the dawn of every day brings some new growth or change in him. He has always been highly verbal--quite the talker. Usually he's used up all his word allotment by mid-morning. This does not deter him though. Never fear, he does not run out of things to say or ask. For months, he's been asking for a belt like Dad's and mine's. He hasn't really needed a belt until recently when he's in that awkward stage of not really being a size that you can buy in the stores. This perplexes me because I know he's not the only child to be like this--in between sizes. I just don't understand why retailers don't make some in between sizes. Not just 3t, but "No longer 3t, but not quite 4t" size. That's what size he is. So we go up a size and the 4t pants are too big.

I bought him a belt yesterday and brought it home to him. He promptly tried it on and learned very quickly how to loop it through his pants and fasten it. It's still too big for him, but there's no way he's taking it off. Except for the hundred times that he did unfasten his belt for the fun of it.

What's funny is that he'd say, "I have to poop", head off to the bathroom, unfasten his belt and not poop. He just wanted to undo his belt and fasten it back. He's so funny to me because he doesn't just do that, he has to actually go to the bathroom, sit on the toilet and then fasten his belt again.

It's brought lots of laughs today and I'm sure tomorrow it will be round two of "Breaking the Belt In".

I wish you all could be here for this. It's quite comical and eventually I just made him take the belt off.

Between John Owen fastening and unfastening his belt and James climbing on everything and jumping off of things, life is never dull around here. 

We're coming up on five months home with James Melaku. Can you believe it? It feels like always--you know that feeling of something or someone always having been in your life? That's how it feels with James. I remember life before him, but only in my head. My heart doesn't remember that time. I think a lot about Africa and Ethiopia in particular. I wonder when I'll see it again. I wonder about my friends there. About James' birth family. I wonder if they think of him. It's been fourteen months since anyone who knew him before he was Melaku have seen him. I wonder what his birth name was. What did his mom call him? But those are questions I have no answers to. I trust I don't need to know the answers; otherwise, I know I'd have them. For now, I just wonder and pray for those faces that I only have a glimpse of when I look at James'. When I look at the way his hair curls, or his eyes crinkle when he smiles. His bowed legs and narrow feet. I think about his time in the orphanage and how different his days are now. How different his life is now and how his future took a radical turn almost five months ago. 

God is good and faithful. Adoption is hard, for many reasons, but God is faithful and it is worth all the hard. Just like parenting in general is hard, but worth the hard.

Have a great weekend friends!

Just Quit It.

Is this parenting gig hard or what? And I only have two kids. I can only imagine what a day is like for those who have way more kids than I. A lot has been going on around here which has compounded the toughness of parenting. We are replacing the shower in our master bathroom. Really, I mean Zack is doing it and I'm checking in every now and then to see how things are going. I've been busy with some things from church, so our normal daily routine basically hasn't existed this week. Add these monsoons that we've been having that have been exchanged for blazing hot days and we've got some rowdy boys 'round here, y'all. Not just rowdy, but grumpy, too. Or maybe I'm the grumpy one!
I've had some parenting fails--someone should follow us with a camera and then upload the videos to youtube. We'd be an instant hit with the "What Not To Do When..." just fill in the blank.
Most of the time when I'm tired or distracted and one of my kids starts misbehaving or having some complex because he is shy or scared or something, I just want them to quit it. That's basically what I say, "Quit it."
Of course they just cry or things get worse and then I have to say something sarcastic because that's what sarcastic people do in awkward situations. And then that feeling washes over me and I realize that I really have zero control over how my children act. You talk them through situations, they seem to get what you're saying to them and then the situation happens and it all goes out the window and they're standing there being obstinate or crying or if they're mine--screaming. See the post about the suit fitting for proof.
And so I just pray--even harder---for wisdom and some creative way to connect with my boys besides connecting with their backsides. (wink, wink).
It's humbling to know that in reality, I can do what I know is right. I can keep working at it. Never give up trying to guide them. I can pray for them and for myself. I can show them grace and mercy and tough consequences when necessary, but ultimately I cannot completely control them.
In this, I must trust the Lord. And that's hard. But it's the right choice and so when you see me and you'll know it's me because I'll be the one with the screaming boys whom I love dearly. My heart nearly bursts open when I think about how great they are. Even when I ask them what they want to drink and they say, "Liquid." From the mouth of a three year old who is well on his way to a career in stand-up comedy.
Trusting the Lord is a tricky thing. Just when you think you're doing stinkin' awesome at it, you realize there's another area that you've taken on yourself. So here's to trusting the Lord and gritting our teeth during the tough parenting times. And so you know, I've been making a lot of cake and cupcakes around here. It's a good thing I run.

Being a M.O.B. (mother of boys)

This August will mark four years that I have been a mother to a boy. One boy for three years was interesting. Now that we've added a second boy, well, life is really interesting. There are some things about boys that have surprised me somewhat. 

For example, they really like their mamas. Before becoming a M.O.B., I thought they'd be all about Dad. They do love their dad, but my boys seem to find everything I do riveting. Like showering. It's the one thing I like to do alone. I shut the door, turn the water on and enjoy the five or ten minutes of solitude. I keep the bathroom door locked during this "mommy time". And then I hear it. An bone-chilling scream coming from the living room. What can it mean? Did some intruder enter the house? Have they gotten into the steak knives and cut off a toe? I stop the shower, grab a towel and race into the living room. They are where I left them. Sitting in front of the t.v. watching an episode of Clifford the Big Red Dog. I love that dog and that show. I scan the room for an intruder or any sign of blood and/or toes. Nothing. And then I ask, "Why did you scream, little one?" The response, "I couldn't get my applesauce open." I see. My almost four year old couldn't get his applesauce pouch open so he did what he thought the situation called for--screamed.

I would tell you that this was an isolated incident, but something like this happens every time I take a shower and don't allow them in the bathroom. I think it's a conspiracy. They may be young, but clearly they have come up with this plan to worm their way into my "mommy time".

Another surprising thing is how early they become Big Ole Babies when they're sick. Previously, I thought this was something guys learned in high school or college. Like it was some secret class offered that girls didn't know about. When they separated the boys and girls in health class, they weren't really talking about anatomy, they were teaching the boys the horrors of the common cold or worse yet a paper cut. 

I've had three "under the weather" guys this week. Yes, you read that right---three. They are all three legitimately sick--snotty noses, stuffed up noses, coughing, just feeling poorly. Just the other day, I had two wrapped up tight in blankets on the couch and one in my lap. They were pitiful. Terrible. I worried they wouldn't make it, but we survived it all with only one trip to the doctor and one  co-pay.

Until today when John Owen woke up with a nasty allergic rash and so the saga continues.

If they all three weren't so lovable and just plain awesome, I might have sent them packing by now.

But they are sweet, even in their whiny, snotty, congestedness. And I love them. A LOT. And I love being a M.O.B.

Wrestlemania

My boys like to wrestle.  A Lot! I used to wrestle with my brother, which really meant I tried to keep from dying when he jumped on me. My brother is only thirteen months older than me. Yes, you read that right. Thirteen months. I was the perfect wrestling partner for him because we were always about the same size, so it didn't seem like he was a big kid whoopin' up on his little sister. 

Here at our house, John Owen is bigger than James, but the whoopin' up happens all the same. So far there have been no broken bones or any blood. I call that "playin'". I heard them "playin'" today and found John Owen holding James from the back, running and falling on a mattress we have on the floor. 

(Why do you have a mattress on your floor, you ask? Good question friends, but it's come in handy for days like today. )

I did what any caring mom would do and I videoed it. 

While these sweet boys can be so rough and tumble, they have their sweet moments where they join me in the kitchen for cupcake making. 

That's James "helping" me make cupcakes. He's the best batter taster. 

They took turns licking the spatula. Never fear. They only got to do this after the cupcakes were in the oven. 

They are the BEST two boys around (even when they're whiny and cry a lot). 

Hickory, Dickory, Socks!

No, I've not turned into the Incredible Hulk. I love these toe socks for running. They keep my feet from rubbing together causing major blisters. I found these jewels on Amazon for cheap! I like cheap running toe socks better than toe socks. (But not better than cake!)

I went to the bathroom today. I shut the door. This is what happened. Apparently my "bath rooming" is great entertainment for him to want to be in there so badly. 

Today, this guy just wants to be by himself. This is highly unusual, so I fear a sickness or such may be on it's way, or another growth spurt. 

He asked to be naked today. Not very naked, just a little naked. He cracks me up!

    My hottie husband is home, so all is right in our sphere of the universe and I'm off the single mom status. 

     Hope you all have a great weekend!

The Shirt Really Makes The Man

Dressing boys is about as fun as losing toenails. I do both of those things. I usually go for casual/play most days, which translates to "I don't care if you get your clothes so dirty I can't get the stains out!" But for those occasions we venture into public, I go for a "Let's make the baby loom like a smaller version of dad."

But then I'm gifted with gems like the outfit in the picture and dressing boys becomes fun! This shirt brings me so much happiness and bumps the cuteness factor up by at least a thousand percent!

I hope it makes you as happy as me!

You can't go wrong with the "thumbs up/down."

Good grief that's cute!!

Enjoy your Thursday!

Whompings and Ugly Cupcakes

My boys like to whomp and by whomp I mean they like to rough house. Their dad is the official whomper. I take no part in it. But Dad's been gone for over a week now and the boys were crazy for a whomping. I found this out the hard way when little sweet James tackled me when I made the mistake of sitting in the floor. And then John Owen joined in and I was being whomped. I quickly cried "uncle" and ran for cover in the kitchen. 

I succeeded in making the ugliest cupcakes known to man today. Check out the picture below. They were undoubtedly ugly, but man were they good. I may or may not have eaten two or three. It's really hard for me to tell because I usually eat almost all of it and then throw some of it away so I don't have to count it as a whole one. Psycho, I know!

I do have some good-looking boys though. The proof is below. 

Good-night friends!  

Yes, that's blue cake with poop brown frosting. 

Good-looking boy #1

Good-looking boy #2

Epiphanies and Bedtimes

I've had a few epiphanies lately. One is that I'm an exaggerator. I big one. (I'm not exaggerating there.) I'm addicted to funny and like to tell stories in such a way to elicit a laugh or two or three. My last three posts are evidence of this issue. I hope you laugh and don't take me so seriously. I realize I could seem quite crazy. (But isn't everyone a little crazy?)

Secondly, I epiphanied (this isn't a word, but it sounds funnier than "realized") something about sweet baby James. I'm apparently stupid or didn't really pay attention when I was reading all those adoption books because I feel this is something I should have figured out a while ago, but it took a friend who's also adopted just telling me her "first year home" experience to epiphany this. Are you ready for it?!!

James struggles with insecurity. No brainer I know, but sometimes and by sometimes I really mean a lot of the time, I forget. Yep, I forget that he struggles because he doesn't always seem to.

But then something in our daily routine changes, like his dad leaving in the early morning hours one day and not being there. He has no way of using words to explain that this has caused him to distress.

And I didn't really pick up on why he was "acting out" until last night. I went for a run with my running buddy and left my boys at her house with her husband and daughter. I was gone a little over an hour and when I got back, sweet baby James was fussy, irritable, and distant. It was almost like the littlest thing upset him. And then it hit me that he was struggling probably with feeling like I wasn't coming back. 

Of course he'd struggle with this because this is all he knows of people, except for these past four months.

So that's my epiphany. I feel thankful for friends who share their stories and don't just sugar-coat things. Things really can't always be rainbows and butterflies and it really helps when people just "tell it like it is." So I'm thankful for this little insight that will help me reassure this sweet boy that I'm not going anywhere. I'm forever!

And now on to bedtimes. I love bedtime this week. I've bumped it up a little and get almost giddy with excitement when it's close. I don't do anything exciting once the boys go to bed, but it's nice to sit in sweet solitude and just have a complete thought.

Have a great weekend friends! Thanks for reading!

Kicking and Screaming

Sometimes I have these surreal experiences. They are really almost like out of body experiences. I'm standing outside of myself watching the situation unfold before me. I had one of those today. I had the bright idea that I'd take John Owen to Lexington to be fitted for the suit he's going to wear as ringbearer in a friend's wedding. Of course I did all the right things beforehand. I had a precious conversation with my little angel about what was expected of him and how he should act and how I understood that he might be nervous  or even a little afraid of some strange person taking his measurements, but this was something that we needed to do.
 I even offered a great "incentive"/"bribe" for good behavior. We'd passed a cupcake store that was right next to a Starbucks and I felt I'd won the lottery. I envisioned this great mother/son date (you those things I read about happening in other people's blogs, but have never really experienced in the same way in my own life) where we shared a gourmet cupcake and I sipped a white chocolate mocha and we giggled about toddler things. I felt great about it all. I thought, "We've got this in the bag. Yay me!"
What a gross understatement! All was well as we entered the store and asked the sweet, young gal to take his measurements until she whipped out the measuring tape and tried to touch him. He recoiled like she had poked him with a red-hot fire poker! Honestly, I wish I was exaggerating and this was all a bad, bad dream, but I'm not! He began to pull away from me and scream. Yes, you read that correctly. Not whine (which would be preferable to screaming) or even use the LARGE vocabulary that he has and uses EVERY HOUR OF EVERY DAY WHEN WE ARE AT HOME. He just screams.
I spoke quietly to him telling him to stop pitching a fit and to calm down. "Everything will be fine, sweet grasshopper!" This is where I stepped outside of myself because deep inside I wanted to melt into the floor like the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz.
Well, a trip to the bathroom for more "talking", a bathroom that isn't really for the public, but is instead in the very back of the store and my sweet angel was ready to have his measurements taken. He even managed a smile---something I couldn't muster up until we made it all the way back to our house.
Needless to say, no body got a cupcake (I was probably more sad about this than John Owen) and the ride home was not fun.
It's times like this that I wish I could just forget the consequence and get the cupcake, but I just can't give up on training my kids yet. I've seen those parents. The ones who would show up for parent/teacher conferences and either A) sleep during it or B) tell me it's not their problem.
I've experienced those kids whose parents gave up back in kindergarten when Little Bobby wouldn't stop pulling Sally's hair or they checked out around middle school when puberty hit their house like a locomotive.
No. I've got to stay tuned in and do the tough stuff, but I TOTALLY understand the desire to just let the boys act like a bunch of hoodlums, eat suckers for lunch and dinner and never take baths. Sometimes I wish Goldfish did constitute as a vegetable and ice cream as a good dairy choice. Sometimes I wish it didn't matter how late they stayed up or if they were respectful or kind.
But only sometimes...It does matter and I'll just keep on keeping on and though I always feel like I'm on a island alone when my kid misbehaves in public, I know there are others out there. Those other mothers who know what I'm talking about, who've been in that store or at the restaurant when the three year old refuses to act like he/she has any sense and you feel like you've been stripped naked and everyone can see all your parenting failures. Yep, that's how I feel sometimes. Like today the gal in the suit store with her thin body and blonde bangs that she kept flipping out of her eyes knew I'm not really good at this "mom-thing".
To everyone else out there on the same island as me---Carry on! I believe in you and know that you're putting in the hours and the time and that sometimes kids just do what they want!
We should get together and have a cupcake...or two.

Butts and Jesus

Butts. I wipe my share of them everyday and I only have two boys. I'm sure wiping boys' butts are easier than girls because it's quick. Boys (at least mine) don't care how clean their butts are. A few swipes with the "wipey" or toilet paper or both if needed and off they go. James never cares if his butt gets wiped. He actually hates it and by hate, I mean loathes it. He's comfortable in a dirty diaper apparently. It's not unusual to hear Zack (he usually takes dirty diaper duty (the pun is intended)) say, "Stop crying James. I'm the one who should be crying." Hysterical...and true. 

Another favorite is when he says, "One day you'll have to wipe my butt." Equally funny and most likely true.

John Owen is a little more complicated. He's almost four (Don't judge me if your two year old is already reading and tying his own shoes) and he can be heard throughout the house or probably outside yelling, "I need my butt wiped!!!" It's always yelled loudly and frantically. Mostly because he doesn't like to wait for anything, but neither do I so I understand how he feels.

I know this butt-wiping phase will pass and I'll probably think back upon it fondly and wish my boys were babies again and I could wipe their butts just one more time. (Maybe not.)lol

I'm single-moming it over here while Zack is away on a mission trip, so while he's being the hands and feet of Jesus, I'm wiping butts (and noses still because there are still boogers). I do get to throw in the occasional lesson about God while wiping butts. It's usually in response to a question of how does poop come out of our bodies and why do we poop and why do we have butts. Oh little grasshopper, because that is how God made us and designed us and it is a good design! (And praise Jesus for extra thick wipes/toilet paper!)

Little minds do ponder everything and in no particular order. I really do think their thoughts crash around like bumper cars and if you have a kid like John Owen, they verbalize those thoughts as they come to them and out pops just whatever from their mouths.

John Owen asked the difference between girl dogs and boy dogs and the very next question was how Jesus came to be in your heart and then back to girl dogs and boy dogs.

From the mouths of babes, folks. I don't try to make sense of it. I'm just along for the ride!

So enjoy your Monday and if you're still wiping butts, I hope you, too get to throw in the occasional discussion of Jesus!

Boogers and Boo-Boos

Boogers are a constant part of my life. They're like a third child who doesn't say much and stays mostly hidden until we're in public and people want to talk to my boys. Then, well then the boogers show up. James' nose is the biggest contributor, but John Owen can hold his own in this booger fest that we have going on over here. Today, my friend, Lee Ann and I ran the Capital Stampede 10k downtown. We're training for a half-marathon in September and hit this race up for a nice change from our routine of running ridiculously early in the morning before most of you have even hit a good REM sleep cycle.
We did really well and raced across the finish line to PR. I walked over to my little family of Zack, John Owen and James and yes, you guessed the boogers.
Of course no one had a tissue, so James' booger, my third child just hung out (literally) with us while we cooled off and watched the rest of the finishers. John Owen sat in the stroller with his knees in his chest because he face planted on the sidewalk scraping his knees in the fiercest way. So my life today has been boogers and boo-boos.
We celebrate four months home with James this weekend. When I look back at the photos we took when we first met him and then first picked him up from the orphanage, I'm stunningly amazed at the change in him. He's a great kid and a lot of fun even on the most challenging of days.
He and John Owen love to play together and by play I mean push, shove, wrestle, roll around on the floor together. I consider that playing where boys are concerned. No one bleeds and no bones protrude, so I call it a great success that they are getting along so well! Can I get an amen? There are occasional tears, but unless you can show me blood or a broken something, "ain't nobody got time for that!"
Praise God for four months with James and even more so, Praise God for a Godly, loving husband who is an incredible father to my two boys!
I love it when John Owen says, "I don't want to be with you. I like Dad!" Yep, I like Dad too and completely understand why you'd want to be with him!  James, well, he just hangs out with me and his boogers!
Hope you have a great weekend and Father's Day---booger and boo-boo free!

Orphan Justice

Just like there are many orphans in the world, there are many books about orphans, how to help orphans, how to adopt orphans, how to parent an adopted child. I've read a lot of them and they've been helpful and informative, but none have fully covered the issue of the Orphan and God's command of His people like Johnny Carr's Orphan Justice. This book goes beyond the standard book about adoption and encompasses what it means to move beyond the idea that caring for the orphan equals entering the adoption process. When we think of orphan care only in terms of adoption, we tend to shy away from doing anything because we don't feel led to adopt, we already have many children, or feel overwhelmed by the idea of grafting a person into our families. Carr removes this excuse from every believer in his book.
He covers many topics including adoption, but goes so far beyond adoption that it truly is a book about caring for the orphan. His statistics are staggering and convicting, not so much in the sense that each of us should begin the adoption process immediately, but that we should each be thinking through and then acting in ways that will bring justice to the orphans around the world. He covers topics from orphans and HIV/AIDS to Orphans and Abortion.
After each chapter he gives practical ways that each person can Do Something to bring justice to the orphans. These practical steps are doable by everyone; they'll just take a surrendering to the God-given command in His word that we take care of those less-fortunate and orphans are those less-fortunate.
Carr's book is an invaluable tool to every believer and to the church in this war on orphans. It is written humbly, yet his words will convict. His ideas are not new, but his story is so real, he is so apart of this war that you can't help but feel the weight of his words.
According to UNICEF there are 153 million children worldwide who have lost one or more parents and are considered orphans. Orphan Justice confirms that we are called to action, but unlike other books, it goes beyond the statement of fact to give readers practical ways to be apart of this war on orphans in our world.
The question that remains is will you do your part? You can start by reading the book. It's easy, quick and won't require much of your time and could possibly catapult you onto a life-transforming path that brings justice to the orphan.

Did You Hear What I Said?

Sometimes (or a lot of times) we don't hear what a person said. I don't mean that he/she didn't speak loudly enough or some other noise kept us from hearing clearly. I mean they say something and by the time it makes it through all of our "stuff", our past experiences, our hurts, our fears, we hear something different. Maybe someone says "I can't meet you for dinner" or "I can't come to your party". We may hear "You aren't a priority so I'm not meeting your for dinner" or so on. We've all got our "stuff" that we filter every experience through. That's just what our pasts do for us--a special gift if you will.
That explains my James. He's got a small past that's a big ole whopping past and he filters all of these new experience through that past. It's all he knows right now. We can mature and grow and begin to understand that we can't filter new experiences through our old ones. We can't think that no one is trustworthy just because someone close to us in our past wasn't trustworthy. Make sense?
Life in our home as been interesting these past three and half months. James has made incredible advancements and is doing incredibly well considering.
Yet, until today there hadn't been a day that felt really good, like we were really getting somewhere with this whole grafting our family together thing. There had been snippets of good, like our trip to Florida. There was a whole lot of good during those seven days, but no day with extended periods of feeling like things were getting somewhere.

You see this face doesn't always look like this. Most of the day it's crinkled up and big ole tears are coming out of those gigantic eyeballs. I felt like a hamster in a cage running really fast, but never going anywhere really. I'd crawl into bed at night and think through all the ways I failed that day. (Not a happy way to end your days.)

I'd ponder and wonder why James wasn't learning that there were boundaries and rules established out of love. Not that I thought he'd "get it" immediately, but I couldn't understand the tenacity of his fight against them. Why after three and half months did he go back to the dvd player, even though every time before he'd been redirected or put in time out. I even thought perhaps he was incapable of understanding and maybe never really would, but then I'd watch him manipulate a stranger in public with his grin or his coy looks until they gave him something he wanted and then he's change his expression and stop interacting with them. I knew he could get it, but something was off.

Our house has been a relatively peaceful place. It's something I strive for. I want my husband and children to want to be home and not to dread it. It's not always an extremely neat place or beautifully decorated, but it's been theirs. This all changed when James came home. 

There was no peace. There were tears and screams, from James and John Owen (and maybe me, too). 

Stuff didn't get done because I was refereeing or training or correcting or cleaning up some new mess.

Those faces are the faces I wanted to see during the day at home--smiling faces. We visited our International Adoption Pediatrician again last week. During the visit we discussed James' lack of language acquisition. He is behind as are all children adopted internationally. Most progress and get on target within six months of being in the states or within the year. James of course had severely stopped up ears. It's been one month since he had tubes put in and his hearing improved so drastically, yet he has a vocabulary of...wait for it...3-5 words. Of course language is a huge part of our issue at home. He signs for us for his basic needs like food, drink, please, but that's it. 

The rest of the time it's a big mystery if he understands what I'm saying or not. He is a man of many sounds and noises, but few words. He come to us saying "bye" and "nona". Only twice has he called me "mama". Most of the time he'll call anyone "nona" and points to himself if you ask him where mama is. (This is somewhat comical.) I know he'll pick these things up. I know he'll get it eventually. He's a smart boy.

Saturday and Sunday I went to bed desperately needing a peaceful house again, praying that God would give me wisdom and help me know how to help my boy. I didn't want to keep going to bed defeated and tired and just plain ole grumpy because I'd spent my whole day fussing at John Owen or correcting James.

And then this morning as the morning began like all the others had with John Owen playing with something and James trying to get whatever John Owen has, John Owen yelling and calling for me and me trying to get James to play with his own toys, I had a revelation. It came out sheer desperation and frustration and it was a beautiful gem that changed our day.

I got out the pack-n-play, set it up in the family room, put James' toys in it and plopped him in it. I expected tears and screams and a big ole fit (he can throw a mean one). But instead I got peace, sweet blissful, beautiful peace. James played happily with his toys confined to his little space and John Owen played beside the pack-n-play with his toys.

It changed everything about our day. As I reflected upon why it would make a difference, I thought about how James spent the first part of his life in a little room and though he's made leaps and bounds, I don't think he can handle a lot of open space. Maybe he just needed the comfort and even protection of his own space to free him up to play. 

You see James interprets everything through his past experiences and they weren't so good. It's funny it took me so long to figure out he needed even tighter boundaries to make him feel safe enough to just play, but I'm thankful for the wisdom that God imparted to me today. I'm thankful for the peace today.

Vacation 2013

Vacations are wonderful things that sometimes elude us, but when we do get that wonderful opportunity to take a really long road trip to somewhere besides where we live, they are pure bliss. That's what our Vacation was for us. We packed our boys and bunch of stuff and then some more stuff and headed south to Treasure Island, Florida for seven days of sand, sea, and doing a bunch of nothing.
The weather was great (no surprise, right) and we soaked up every drop of sunshine we could.

To say John Owen loved the beach is an understatement. He spent a lot of time in the sand, near the edge of the water, and watching for sharks. He was our official shark look-out person. I contribute this obsession with sharks to Finding Nemo and Soul Surfer. (Yes, he has seen parts of Soul Surfer. I will never win a Mother of the Year award.)

James. Oh, sweet baby James. His response to the beach was as opposite of John Owen's as any response could possibly be. He did warm up to it eventually, and by warm up to it, I only mean a lukewarm feeling, tepid if you will.

This was James for quite some time the first morning on the beach. Bless his sweet little overwhelmed heart. 

This expression pretty much sums up James' feelings about the beach. He did manage to walk around and push some sand around. A few smiles were seen and laughs heard our last day on the beach. Small steps baby, small steps. He loved the condo though.

This is one of my favorite pictures from our vacation. I love John Owen's expression and the fact that James has made it all the way to the edge of the water. He's conquering those fears.

Now life is back to "normal".  I'm so very thankful for vacation and time away from regular life. Aren't you?

Boys, Boys!

Three months can seem like a little bit or a lot depending upon the circumstances. Before James was home, three months was a lot. A lot of days to wait. Now that he's home, three months have literally flown by. It has been three months of learning our new normal and we're not quite there yet. Some days seem like dreams with smiles all day and that fuzzy feeling of togetherness. Other days seem like long journeys up a steep mountain, like I'm that mountain climber from that game on the Price Is Right. You know the one? If he reaches the top he falls off. There are more "Other Days" than the dream ones. I've learned and am still learning a lot.
The grafting process takes time, for everyone. But we have made leaps and bounds and them sometimes we regress and I feel like that climber who fell off the peak.
I've learned that no matter how young, abandonment is a tough thing, even for a little fella and sometimes it might make him angry and sometimes maybe that anger has to be expressed through tears or fits.
Overall, I'd call these last three months a success. We've gotten some tubes in James' ears which improved his hearing by 30 decibels. John Owen has adjusted to having a little brother and James has learned to hold his own against John Owen.
I feel very blessed to have these two boys to invest my time in and even more blessed that it's what I do all day long.
They for sure make me smile way more than they make me frustrated.

Cars, trucks, and boys

I've never been a boy (haha), so most days I watch in amazement as my boys interact with each other, eat, play, and just romp around as loudly as they can. That seems to be the one rule---be loud as much as possible. They are not overly emotional---we do have the occasional meltdown over some truck or car or not liking what I put on their plates to eat, but mostly--they're just loud.

John Owen is the loudest, but James is quickly learning to imitate his big brother.

I also watch as the life we knew before James quickly fades away. We still remember those days before he was with us (at least Zack and I do), but they seem so far off as to be in another lifetime. Isn't that amazing? He's only been with us for 3 1/2 weeks! That's how quickly God has meshed our lives together.

Those first few weeks were a lot smoother than we had anticipated, though not easy. We all had to "get to know" each other and learn each other, but this past Saturday we turned another corner. James greeted us with a smile that morning (something he hadn't done before.) Before he had just stared at us like he was resigning himself to our care. But Saturday, he seemed really happy and glad to be around us.

I'm thankful for God's provision and work. Going from one boy to two has been fun and yet challenging as most of you know. 

We've had lots of conversations about "Afica" and where James came from and what color we all are.

I believe John Owen has settled on being blue or green, but he says he's for sure not "wipe" or white.

It's so easy for us to forget that James has not always been with us. But I know there'll be a day when he'll realize that he doesn't look like us. There'll be a day when other questions will be asked about his life before us---questions I don't have the answers to. I really have very little information about his life before us to give him, but in those times when my heart feels anxious, I know that God has ALL the answers and that is enough.

I may never be able to explain the circumstances of James' life before us or explain why, except that God was always in control and chose us specifically to be his parents, his family.

In the meantime, we just enjoy each day. These two kids slay me. They are so stinkin' funny.

They come up with this stuff on their own. I just snap the picture. I love the way James is looking at John Owen. I think they really like each other---except for when they don't. lol

It's funny how quickly James got over his aversion to Zack and now seems to genuinely like him and cry after him. Amazing!

Two things I notice and comment about on a daily basis---John Owen's fabulous hair--because really, his hair is fabulous and James' eyes--crazy big. They go on for days!

A Week

It's amazing the changes that happen in one week. I'll recap a few for those interested.
1. Melaku now responds to James!
2. John Owen shares a little better. It was a real issue mainly because JO just got invaded by a one year old and that's tough for a 3 1/2 year old, but he's rising to the challenge.
3. James eats anything you put in his mouth. I think I could put a fried chicken liver in his mouth and he'd eat it.
4. Our anonymity has forever disappeared. We've ventured out to Kroger and Walmart and maybe Cracker Barrel and gone are the days of walking into a place unnoticed.
5. Memories of Africa are beginning to fade---for James. As we introduce new people and places, the life he knew before is fading away being replaced with this new one.

And now for a few pictures.

Turning Corners

A picture is worth a thousand words so if you haven't already seen the pictures of James Melaku we posted on FB, you should go take a look. We've turned a corner and I know God is answering your prayers for us. Please continue to pray as we have many more corners to turn.
We have James' passport and Visa and his immigration papers. We fly out tomorrow night. We can't be more excited to get home on Sunday.
Please pray for a good flight home, that we make our connection in DC. We have to go through passport control and the lines could be long.
Pray specifically that James begins to trust Zack and will allow Zack to hold him.
Right now, I am the only person who can hold him. He started today to interact with Zack so we're headed in the right direction.
Love you guys and see you soon as a family of four!
Praise God that a journey begun two years ago is coming to an end at a new beginning for a little boy named Melaku!

Perks of Being An American

There aren't any at the US Embassy in Ethiopia. You still have to wait in line and they still take your phones and any other electronic device. We did get to wait inside as opposed to outside, not because we're US Citizens, but because we had a baby. So there are perks to being a baby!
There were many, many Ethiopians waiting to interview to receive a visa to enter the US. Beza, our adoption officer said most would not receive a visa, yet they will continue to come back again and again. We "interviewed", which was basically just standing in front of a window and saying "Good afternoon " to the American guy on the other side. That was literally it. He gave us some documents, told us the visa would be ready tomorrow and that as soon as we stepped foot on American so, Melaku would become an instant American citizen.
Amazing, isn't it? All those other Ethiopians working SO hard for a chance into America, their promised land and Melaku gets automatic entrance because he's adopted into our family.
Guess what though? Right now, today, he'd like nothing better than for us to take him back to the orphanage. No exaggeration, he has been crying almost all the time. Today he has found some comfort with me, but when he saw Beza, he reached and cried for her because she represents the orphanage to him.
He is afraid of Zack because he's had little to interaction with men, especially white me.
We need prayer---big prayers. Please pray for peace for Melaku and that God would knit his heart to ours. I'm staying in our room except for official visits because the women here all want to hold Melaku and that is not helpful to his attachment to us.
Please pray for us. We are so thankful to be officially done and now we are to the difficult part in this journey. The days ahead are so crucial to Melaku's emotional health and to our family.
Love you all!

A converter and a sad baby

The guy we know in Addis hooked us up with a converter so we can charge our devices. He's a blessing!
Today while most of you were sleeping, we were picked up by Beza. She is our adoption officer here and works/worked for CWA. We went to the orphanage to pick up Melaku. It was highly emotional for Melaku and the orphanage staff. We stayed a few hours so everyone could say their good-byes adequately.
The staff was very happy for him and he was very upset to be leaving. We got back to the guesthouse around one. Melaku has cried most of the afternoon and evening except for the hour he slept. We are sad he's sad, but feel incredibly blessed that he was so attached to his nanny. We took his picture with her so he can always have it.
He also has a severe ear infection--liquid is literally dripping out of his ear. Please pray it heals quickly. Pray also that he begins to find comfort in our arms.
We feel very blessed to have him with us. We go to Embassy tomorrow and then home on Saturday!

It's the little things

It's 10:30 pm here and we're not sleepy because we broke the first rule of time zone travel and we took a nap when we got here this morning.
I keep thinking about tomorrow and that tonight is James' last night in an orphanage. His life and our life will change tomorrow!
Our converter died so we've had no way to charge our phones. The guy we know says he has one and will bring it to us tomorrow. Pray we get one somehow and if we don't, I'll update when we get back to DC on Sunday.

Broke(n)Down Luggage, etc.

(Disclaimer: this post is just the minute details of our flight. Feel free to skim the boring parts.)
Luggage was not made to survive arduous flights and careless handling.
Thus, the first thing we had to do when we reached Washington, D.C. (actually it was Chantilly, VA) was to buy a new piece of luggage. We ate well, slept so-so, and arrived at the airport in record time thanks to our Colombian-born shuttle driver.
Our plane took off ahead of schedule and then had to make an unexpected landing in Rome to pick up some stranded Europeans.
May I just pause and say that life is such a wild ride at times?!
The man next to me must be deaf because he blares the sound to his movie, music, etc. I get to share in his viewing/listening experience with him. As way of thanking him I'm now blaring The Lumineers back at him. He can thank me later for introducing him to great music. (You can, too.)
On a different note, my dinner on the plane tasted like...bad breath. Yes, food can taste like bad breath. Lol
This ride is almost over and I can't wait to get my hands on my chubby boy Melaku.
My new meal has arrived. We'll see if it tastes like bad breath too!

Get a Load of This!

Sometimes the most unexpected things happen in life at the most unexpected times.
For instance, two days before you leave to pick up your son in Ethiopia, you don't expect to receive an email saying your adoption agency, the one you've been with for almost two years, is "going out of business" and filing bankruptcy.
But rarely is life what you expect, so you just have to stop expecting from life and starting expecting from the Creator of Life. Not that things work out like I expect, but that He is true to His word and I know that He is.
So, we leave tomorrow to travel to Ethiopia to pick up James Melaku. And yes, our adoption agency has closed its doors and has filed bankruptcy.
We are to "settle up" with the orphanage, meet with the Embassy and then get ourselves home!
Originally, our agency staff in Ethiopia was going to meet with us, go with us to the orphanage to pick up James, and then to the Embassy. We have not heard if this is going to happen or that it's not going to happen, so we are just going to play it by ear.
Thankfully, we "know" a man in Ethiopia who can get us around and to the Embassy if it turns out we have to do this by ourselves.
God is faithful and steadfast and He has gone before us. This I do know to be true!
Please continue to pray for James' transition to our care and for our flight home. One leg of it is 17 hours.
Please pray that we will "settle up" with the orphanage successfully and everyone will be happy.
Also, pray that we can minister while there and glorify God.
We'll update the blog when we can and look forward to everyone meeting James Melaku!
Thank you for walking this wild and crazy journey with us.
It has been two years and I know at times it's seemed like forever, and surreal, and like it'd never happen.  Thanks for laboring through this with us! You all have been a part of bringing him home and we are so close to seeing what was just a thought two years ago become a reality!
Hang on! It's going to be a wild week!

Waiting for A Tornado and An Email

Who wasn't listening for the sound of something like a train or the crash of trees this morning? Who knew we were so dependent upon the Emergency Sirens?
When I woke up at four this morning, there was no email from the Embassy. I thought, "She didn't make it." And then I began to wait for an email telling us our case was being sent to Nairobi. Instead, I received one that said our case had cleared and we had permission to travel!
We received an appointment with the Embassy for February 14th. Now we'll begin preparing to travel!
Praying God's will continues to be done and that we glorify Him in everything!!

This Just In...

It's now 5:44pm in Ethiopia. We just heard that the Finder is en route to Addis Ababa. It is roughly a five hour journey, so please be in prayer for her travel and her safety. The plan is for her to spend the night in Addis and meet with Embassy officials tomorrow morning.
Thank you for your continuing prayers!
Stay tuned!!

Maybe...baby

It's 4pm in Ethiopia right now. I imagine that if all is going according to the plan, someone from the Tikuret orphanage staff is driving to the Finder's house to pick her up. Perhaps they wind through the broken down streets, swerving to miss a group of goats or a skinny, leathered man trying to master the donkey pulling his cart.

Perhaps she reaches the Finder's house and the Finder has not disappeared, but is ready and willing to travel the five hours to Addis Ababa to spend the night and appear before the Embassy Wednesday morning.

Maybe this is happening right now as I begin my daily chores of cleaning bathrooms and ironing clothes.

I hope that maybe the orphanage staff will talk with the Finder about our case and maybe they will talk about the ONE true Finder. That is my hope. Perhaps someone will come to know HIM in all of this...maybe.

If all goes according to plan, maybe we'll wake up tomorrow morning and have an email from the Embassy (my penpal) telling us we're clear to travel to pick up Melaku. Maybe there will be no email.

For now, we will ask God to move in hearts like no one else can and we will ask that HIS will is done and not ours.

In our minds it would have been better to have traveled weeks ago, to be home and somewhat acclimated now. It would have been better to have finished this adoption a year ago...maybe.

We have to understand that this journey, even our little personal journey is so much bigger than us. Just like we're all smaller members of a bigger body of believers working together, so our lives are smaller parts of a bigger story.

Thank you for being on this journey with us, for being in this story with us. We'll be lifting Melaku, the finder, and the Embassy up all day and eagerly waiting to check my inbox in the morning, but our hearts are at peace that whatever the outcome of this day---God's will is best. That we know to be true.

This is the very first picture we received of Melaku. He was only six months old and had been in the orphanage for three months.

This picture cracks me up. I love his face! What's he so tickled about?!

Last Words

If I had only one thing to tell people on this day, it would be that God is on our side in this battle of good versus evil we call life. He wants us to make it! He fights for us! We heard today that the orphanage has made contact with the finder and the plan is for them to take her to the Embassy next Wednesday if the Embassy will give them an interview then.
Please continue to pray that above all, God's will is done.
God hears the cries of His people. He breathed life into Melaku and chose us to be his parents. He is writing this story. May He be glorified. You all are a part of this story. Cry to The Lord for this boy to come home to his family.

Look UP!

Today I'm reminded that God controls ALL things, even people's hearts. Today, I'm asking God to change the heart of one person--a woman in Hawassa, Ethiopia.
This woman is our finder---the person who discovered Melaku when he was three months old.
The orphanage contacted her by phone and asked if she is available for an Embassy interview this upcoming Monday. They heard nothing back and have not been able to get in touch with her because...wait for it...she has turned her phone off.
I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that she doesn't want to travel the five hours to Addis to interview with the Embassy about a baby she was unfortunate enough to find on the steps of her workplace.
The orphanage personnel is going to travel to Hawassa and attempt to speak with her in person and persuade her to come.
They'll never persuade her because we (humans) cannot change people's hearts---only GOD can.
I believe there is a delay in our case for a reason. I don't know what the reason is and I don't need to know because if I needed to know, God would show me.
I know this journey isn't just about Zack and me and a little boy in Ethiopia.  It's about a picture story that God is writing and I have no idea all the twists and turns that are involved in it.
I pray that we are at the climax of the story---the part in a story where the action peaks and you know the conflict is headed toward a resolution.
We have several prayer requests:
1. Pray first and foremost that God's will is accomplished. (May someone come to know Him as their personal Savior during this process!)
2. That God will soften the heart of the finder and she will travel for the interview.
3. If it's God's will for her not to travel, that our case will move quickly to Nairobi, Kenya and that the USCIS will process our case in a timely manner.

I'll leave you on a happy note...
Today is Melaku's FIRST birthday! So, Happy, Happy Birthday sweet Melaku Thurman!

Thank you for being on this journey with us!! PRAY!

 Don't you want to see this face in person?

As the Embassy Turns...And other dramatic stories

Forgive me two posts in one day, but I wanted to let everyone who is interested where we are in the Finder/Embassy/Agency/Orphanage saga. I hesitated to use the word facts in reference to anything I'm about to tell you because I'm just not sure of anything really.
First, Zack and I were really disappointed when we learned that the Finder interviewed schedule for today didn't happen. Our disappointment doesn't equal unbelief or wavering faith----we were just plain ole disappointed. Not in God, just the circumstances.
Second, I immediately contacted our case manager who is a sweet girl who works at our agency's office in North Carolina. She is always helpful, though a little awkward at times. (I can probably be described in the same way---helpful, but a little awkward at times.)
She contacted our agency's office in Ethiopia fondly referred to as CWAE and also the director of the orphanage that Melaku resides in known as Tikuret.
We learned many things from all of this contact.
Unbeknownst to us (and apparently the Embassy also) it is not CWAE's responsibility to get the Finder to the Embassy interview. It is the Tikuret orphanage's responsibility.
Apparently, the director of the orphanage set up an appointment with the Embassy before the Finder had been located in hopes of getting in the rotation of Embassy interviews and maybe locating the Finder in the meantime.
The Finder was not located and the interview was not kept. Also, the liaison from the orphanage did not contact the Embassy to inform them that the Finder had not been found and they would not be coming for the interview.
It was a classic "no show."  I'm not sure this set very well with the Embassy.
Now, the person from the orphanage says she knows who the Finder is. It is not who we previously were told it was. Previously we were told it was a police officer in Hawassa.
It is...are you ready....a nurse. (SMH, too)
So said nurse has been on vacation apparently and the orphanage folks hadn't been able to locate her or "get in touch with her". ( Use those terms loosely---it is a third world country.)
The orphanage has decided to ask for another appointment next week sometime because they believe the Finder/Nurse will be home from vacation this upcoming Monday.

We trust God's timing and know it's best. We also understand that adoption is a picture of salvation and satan hates that and he hates our adoption and what it'll mean for Melaku.
Please, please, please pray, pray, pray that the Finder would indeed be found, that the Embassy would allow another interview appointment next week, the Finder would be at it, the Embassy would be satisfied and we would be cleared to travel.
Thank you all!! We appreciate you!

God IS Faithful

We woke up off and on last night to check our email hoping to find one that said we were clear to travel. There was never an email, so I took a chance and emailed the Embassy myself.
I got a prompt and kind reply. The Finder did not make it to the interview and our agency did not contact the Embassy to tell them why he didn't.
Today as I drink my cup of disappointment I will rest in the fact that God is faithful. He is always on time. He never just doesn't show up.
Today, I will be looking up at Him and not at my circumstances!
Please pray, pray, pray that God will supernaturally bring things together so that Melaku can come home.
We appreciate ALL of you and your faithfulness to us!

Finding the Finder

I'm not going to lie--I doubted his existence. Alas, he does exist and has an interview with the Embassy January 16th. After this interview we will know more about our case and if we'll travel soon.
Please pray the interview goes well and that Melaku is home soon!

Thanks for taking this journey with us. We are so grateful for each of you!