forever and ever and always

Lila Day!

2011-12-29T13:39:00.000-08:00

My sweet L, this post is for you in honor of Lila Day. On this day (December 29th) in 2007 we met you for the very first time. You were almost exactly 8 months old and just barely 12 pounds. You were tiny and gorgeous and alert and happy and did I mention TINY?

This was the exact moment we met. You were the size of a large newborn but had the alert eyes of a much older baby. We could tell right away that you noticed EVERYTHING (this, by the way, has not changed). You smiled almost the whole time and were fascinated with my necklace & glasses. I just remember being so stunned that this tiny little gorgeous amazing baby was mine.

You, of course, became an instant Daddy's girl.

This was taken on New Year's Eve, 2007. You can see how adorably crazy your hair was - long on the very top and at the nape of your neck with almost no hair at all around the sides and back of your head. What was most impressive was when the nannies would gather that top part into a very very small cornrow. Those are some serious braiding skills right there.

We soon realized at least part of the reason why you were so very tiny: you spit up almost all that we attempted to put in you. I remember each and every time I gave you a bottle you would gobble up all 7oz and then throw it all back up soon after. I remember crying and being overwhelmed with the helplessness any mother feels when they cannot nourish their child.

Finally home in Chicago, you didn't waste any time catching up. When we first came home you were not even able to sit up on your own. Within 2 months you were sitting up and crawling, and you took your first steps just 2 days after your first birthday. Some pictures from the early days...

All dolled up to meet your Great Grandpa! Oh, and your Daddy picked out that outfit. So girly! This is so funny to me, knowing you now as the-girl-who-will-only-wear-Superman-shirts-and-jeans.

This has always been one of my most favorite photos of you. There was a stretch of time where you would make this face every time you saw a camera. This expression is 100% you.

We all learned that you may be small but your personality was (and still is) HUGE. There is a Shakespeare quote that has always reminded me of you: "Though she be but little, she is fierce."

You knew your ABC's at 18 months and by the age of 2 you knew the names of every dinosaur imaginable. I remember you stomping around the house singing, "T-Rex (ROAR)! I'm a Tyrannosaurus. I'm the biggest carnivore in the Cretaceous forest." I wonder how many little girls have a dinosaur-themed party for their 3rd birthday. You continually astonish people (and me) with your vocabulary. Right now you like to incorporate "ominous" as much as possible into everyday conversation.

Your current preschool teacher put it best: "L sure knows how to hang with the boys." You are a tomboy, through and through. I bought you this cheap Superman t-shirt last summer and it is pretty much all you will wear. That and a silk outfit from China. Our family certainly doesn't blend into the crowd, but you make sure that we are noticed (in the best possible sense). Today we went to Build-a-Bear and you requested an orange cat (named Max) and picked out a Spiderman outfit for him. I love that about you. You like what you like and are not the least bit interested in the princess stuff. You think superheros are COOL. You want to learn Kung Fu. You want to be a drummer in a rock band. You want to play for the Pittsburgh Steelers (sorry, Uncle John). You are stubborn and opinionated and very sure of yourself. Always. While that can make for some rather frustrating parenting, it is truly what I love most about you.

You jumping for joy on your first day of school. Also most likely the last time I ever got you into a dress.

Your very first race, the Flying Pig!

You love your brother. Sure, we have skirmishes here and there, but I often catch you giving E kisses and hugs while murmuring, "E, I love you so much."

My amazing girl. You are smart, beautiful, hilarious, and PRECOCIOUS. I love you more than I ever thought possible. I am positive that if any girl could hold their own with the Pittsburgh Steelers, it would be you. Happy Lila Day.

Rain, rain, GO AWAY

2011-12-22T19:53:00.000-08:00

Seriously, it seems as though it has been raining every day since the beginning of time. Perhaps that is a wee bit on the dramatic side (who, me?), but sheesh. For those of you out there who have to care for curly heads, this is NOT ideal weather. Several weeks ago the news reported that we were well on track to have the wettest year in recorded history. No wonder I feel as though I've been in a perpetual rotten mood. I need me some sunshine! Thank goodness for non-stop Christmas music, holiday lights, and Christmas nougats...it's keeping the holiday glow going.

There is a reason I haven't been blogging so much lately: happily overwhelmed. Last year E was just shy of 18 months, and so while I'm sure he enjoyed the holidays, they had little meaning. Not so this year! I don't think he totally gets the Santa bit, but he loves the lights and we all say "hello, giant Santa" as we drive past this house that has a HUGE inflated Santa in their yard. Not to be critical, but what is it with gigantic, inflatable yard decor? I don't get it. Although, I do love our neighbors whose lawn sports a rather large inflatable Grinch riding on his sleigh complete with sack of presents and Max the dog. But both kiddos are soaking up all of the holiday cheer I can give them, usually leaving me fairly exhausted at the end of the day.

L is practically out of her mind excited. The Santa-threat is as useful as ever this year. She still firmly believes that we have the big guy on speed dial and when we threaten to call him yells, "Oh pleeeeeeeeaze don't call Santa, Mommy! He doesn't need to know what I did!"

I'm feeling thankful, at the moment. I didn't do the 30 days bit last month, but here is a short list of what is making me thankful this holiday season:

1. A new recipe for peppermint meringues (thank you, Paige)

2. Having so much of my family close by. I love that they come over and there is no need to knock or ring the bell. They just come on in...that's how I like it.

3. Every day when L and I snuggle in bed for our rest time, she with the iPad and me with a book, she takes frequent breaks to lean over and shower me with kisses and "I love you's."

4. My little E still thinks I'm the bee's knees. Even though he is now over 30 pounds, I love that he still wants to be held much of the time. And my biceps look fabulous.

5. My new Miele vacuum cleaner. Lordy, it is wrong how much I love that thing.

6. The Tribe (no, not the baseball team). My refrigerator is covered with holiday cards with some of the most gorgeous children on the planet.

7. My babies. Even at the end of a very stressful day of errand running where E seemed to think it his duty to throw a tantrum in EVERY FREAKING STORE, I still thank my lucky stars every day (hour, minute, and second) for these two little people. They are sound asleep right now and I can't wait to wake up and make pancakes with them in the morning.

8. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra. No, I don't care for the music AT ALL. But my kids love it and every time it comes on the radio we have an instant dance party.

9. Brach's Christmas nougat. I have eaten waaaay too much this week.

10. Hubby, kids, and faithful pooch are upstairs snoozing away while I type and wait for my peppermint meringues to finish baking. I love this time to myself all the while knowing that my family is tucked in bed happy, safe & sound.

Happy Holidays.

Ethiopia Part I

2011-12-05T10:50:00.000-08:00

Unlike my two previous trips to Ethiopia, on this journey I had no expectations. No preconceived notions on how I would react, what would happen, or how I'd feel when I returned home. Mainly because this time I didn't have the convenience of baby-blinders. I couldn't bury my head in the demands and responsibilities of sudden parenthood. I could look around and finally get to know the country that gave me the two most precious gifts I will ever receive.

It may sound odd, but I was much more emotional on this trip. When things get heavy, I tend to clam up. No tears for this girl on her wedding day or even meeting L and E...who has time to cry when there is some overwhelming shit to do! But this time I sniffled with barely suppressed tears as we landed in Addis and especially during the drive to our guest house. It looked and smelled just as I'd remembered. It's still amazing to me that there is a place in Africa that is now familiar to me. Yet I felt this bizarre combination of familiarity coupled with seeing things for the first time. Without a baby to monopolize my attention, I could really see the traffic, the overwhelming amount of people (and children) everywhere, the goats in the road, the people sleeping on the sidewalks, the packs of dogs roaming about, and the streets FILLED with people sporting every different type of Ethiopian dress you can imagine: modern clothing, Orthodox Christian robes, and Muslim scarves.

On our first full day we drove south to Busa to see the water project to which EOR had contributed.

Everything impressed me. Community involvement was mandatory thus making this a highly sustainable project. A committee of community members was established not only to maintain the infrastructure (reservoirs and pipelines and such) but also to educate the surrounding communities on matters of hygiene, sanitation and the benefits of clean water.

This is the reservoir that has brought clean water to over 4,000 people, and is projected to reach over 9,000 by the project's end. Amazing.

Clean water. I will NEVER take it for granted again. Ever. Think of how having clean water to drink/bathe in/wash and cook with will make an impact on adorable girls like this one?

Below is the well the community was using before the reservoir and pipeline was built.

When we arrived at the reservoir I was overwhelmed to see the committee of community members there to greet us. These are the men and women that dug the ditches to put down the pipes, built the reservoir, and received the training that will keep the clean water flowing for years to come. They expressed their thanks to EOR for helping to fund the project but also were simply proud to show what they had done for their own community. There was a true sense of ownership and I thought again how wonderful it is to be a part of something that is more than just a band aid or handout...a program that will make lives better and continue to do so even after the project has officially ended.

My heart is happy knowing that this serious little guy will have clean water to drink because of the wonderful work of EOR and its donors. How wonderful also knowing that he can see how the men and women in his community did the work and made it happen.

One post, lots of thankful

2011-11-22T09:35:00.000-08:00

Back from Ethiopia! The trip was everything I expected and so much more. "Life-changing" seems a tad cliche and inadequate, but it's all my jet-lagged brain can come up with at the moment. My first two trips to Ethiopia had such a specific purpose: to meet and take home a baby. I did see a lot of of the country during those two visits, but I was so focused on being a mother to a tiny little stranger there was much I didn't see, didn't feel, didn't dwell on...too preoccupied was I with loving on my precious babies.

This trip gave me the opportunity to really get to know the country that gave me my children. Longer posts detailing the trip will come shortly, but today I wanted to write a post of thanks. I come away from this trip with an even keener awareness of all the blessings I have in my life and the fact that there are many who struggle for that which many of us easily take for granted. Here goes...

1. I am thankful for the health of my family.

2. I am thankful that if illness should occur, we have access to incredible health care and medicine.

3. I am thankful for clean water.

4. I am thankful for easy access to water. My children and I do not have to walk for miles at a time to fetch dirty water for drinking, cleaning, washing & bathing.

5. I am thankful to be able to clothe my children and wash their clothes in clean water.

6. I am thankful for the education I received and the education my children will be able to receive. And that we do not have to choose between eating and education.

7. I am thankful we are able to provide clean and healthy food for our family.

8. I am thankful my children will never have to know true hunger or what it is like to have to sell your body or all of your possessions to avoid starvation.

9. I am thankful for our house with its clean water, indoor plumbing, kitchen full of food, closets full of clothes and car in the garage.

10. I am thankful for my time in Ethiopia, for seeing what I have seen and knowing what I now know I am forever thankful and determined to give of my heart, time and resources to help the orphans, vulnerable children and families in Ethiopia.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh, and if you want more information on the work I did with Ethiopian Orphan Relief in Ethiopia and to donate or find ways you can help with specific partners and projects, go here and get inspired!

Back to Ethopia

2011-11-07T21:07:00.000-08:00

I am off to work in Ethiopia with Ethiopian Orphan Relief in less than 48 hours! I am nervous, excited, scared, thrilled, and sad all at once. My daughter has been telling me many times a day how much she loves me and how very much she is going to miss me. My son, while not as verbal as his sister, shows me in other ways that this separation will be tough. So why am I going on this trip? Why leave my children for 10 days and create such an upheaval? Why take on the expense of this trip at a time when the finances always seem to be a bit tight? For as many times as I've been asked these questions by family and friends, I've asked myself many times over. Here is my response. I've thought quite a bit about this post and I'm afraid I'll have to apologize in advance: this will definitely not be my most eloquent or well-written post, but it will be 100% unedited and from the heart. This topic is simply too important to me to edit. So please bear with me...

I choose to go back to Ethiopia for my children. I am going to give back to the country that gave me my beautiful babies. I imagine a time years from now when my kids will ask me about Le Toukoul (the orphanage where we met) and all of the children that call it home. I want L and E to know that I have not forgotten all of the babies and toddlers and older kids that will remain. I want L and E to know that I gave as much of my time and resources as I could to make sure those children had food, clothes, shoes, books, toys, bathrooms and buildings where they could sleep, play and be educated.

My kids are now so thoroughly Americanized, it is easy to forget their tragic beginnings. It is convenient and safe to pretend that their lives began the day we took them away from Ethiopia and everything familiar. I refuse to do that. Some may argue that my kids are "better off" in our family. After all, we have a nice house, cars, pets, and income to buy clothes and the latest silly toy. Here is my question: do any of those things negate the fact that my daughter and son had to experience horrific loss and trauma to be where they are today? And what about the birth families? Did they deserve the loss and heartbreak that directly lead to the formation of my family? Of course not. For that reason, I go back to Ethiopia. So that I may have the blessings of two amazing children, people in Ethiopia suffered. I am going to give back to the country that gave me so very much. I absolutely cannot imagine my life without my children, but I still grieve for the circumstances that led them to our family.

I've been to Ethiopia twice now and each time was overwhelmed by the pride Ethiopians have in their country and culture. Many of the employees at our local airport are Ethiopian and you should see their faces simply light up when my husband and I attempt a weak "ahmesugenalew." They love their country and are eager and thrilled to share it with us and our children. They appreciate the fact that we want our kids to know and be proud of where they were born. Bringing both of my kids home was bittersweet. The elation and happiness of new motherhood was always tempered with guilt and sadness at the fact that I was taking these children away from a country of people that loved them but had no choice but to let me take them away.

I love Ethiopia. Not only because it gave me the two greatest blessings of my life, but also because it is a place that has touched my heart and soul. I am forever changed after traveling there. I am going to Ethiopia because I am forever in debt to the country that allowed me the privilege to be L and E's mommy. I am going because I love my children so much it practically breaks my heart. I am going because I love who they are and where they come from and for me, those two things could never be mutually exclusive.

Lost for words

2011-09-27T19:14:00.000-07:00

I zipped over to my blog today to check on the blogs that I regularly follow and happened to catch a quick glance at the date of my last post. Lordy, it's been a while, hasn't it? I can't say that life has been particularly uneventful around here (staying home with two small children pretty much takes the word "uneventful" right out of your vocabulary), but there hasn't been a topic or event that has compelled me to share. I shamefully admit that laziness has something to do with it. Our laptop is definitely moving into "old timer" age and so loading and editing photos is most often a tedious and irritating chore. The free time I have before the kids awake and after they are asleep is precious to me, and I often find myself torn: do I blog? Watch Glee? Check out another episode of Mad Men on Netflix? Read? Clean the house? Catch up on email? Sadly, blogging rarely wins.

So, a brief update and a promise to finally download a bunch of pictures and post again soon. Meaning, less than 6 weeks from now.

I was thrilled and honored (and more than a little freaked out) to sing at my brother's wedding earlier this month. It wasn't new rep, but it was the first time I'd performed in almost 4 years. I still can't believe it's been that long. Wow. I gave a recital in Chicago just 3 weeks after coming home with Lila in February of '08. Since then I've done lots of singing, but a lot more "Wheels on the Bus" and much less Schoenberg & Strauss. I will admit that I do miss it. I miss those years at Eastman where I could spend my time basking in the absolute loveliness that is German Lieder. Years where all I did was study and make music, where I could meet with my accompanist multiple times a week to sing through rep that I chose and loved, where I could witness the insane talent of the students and faculty around me. I definitely did not find balance in music and motherhood. I lost the musician part of me while I tried to become the best mom to my kids. But I think the balance is coming, thanks mostly to some very good friends who dragged me back into teaching (and thus, singing) despite my fear that perhaps the phrase "if you don't use it, you lose it" might actually be true.

But back to the wedding. Although practicing was tricky (as my son screams as though he is being tortured with hot fire pokers), everything went pretty darn well. I'm certainly not in the kind of singing shape I once maintained, but at least I know my voice is still in there. AND I landed a wee singing gig from the whole blessed event! Christmas Eve service, here I come. I'll mainly be serving as soprano section leader for the choir, but I also get to perform "Rejoice Greatly," one of my most favorite things to sing (next to melodramatic German art song, that is). How I will manage to practice for this, I'm not entirely sure. I think it's funny that back in grad school, I was so darn picky about practicing. I would only do it in my teacher's studio (I hated the practice rooms...the sound was so shitty and generally made one oversing) and I generally preferred to practice around 10am if at all possible. Afternoons were OK and I avoided evenings all together (the voce was tired, you see). Today? I'd just like to get 15 seconds of singing done anytime, anywhere without a very cute little Ethiopian screaming his head off and hanging on my leg begging to be held. I'll take morning, afternoon, evening, practice room, bathroom, kitchen...you name it, I'll sing there if my son would just please. stop. screaming. Until that happens, I see a couple of stolen practice sessions at my brother's house with a pitch pipe.

L started another year of preschool with very little fanfare. That kind of stuff just doesn't freak her out. She is truly a social being, happiest when she can share her energy with as many as possible. The biggest change is that she is now in the morning session, which means I have had to get my sh*t together three mornings each week. Her hair already takes some thought and planning, but this takes it to a whole new level. The best part, though, is that I now have almost 3 hours alone with E. When L was in the afternoon session, E was napping pretty much the entire time, so this is really the first time that I've had the opportunity to spend some serious QT with the boy. I've loving it...I hope he is as well.

Less than 3 weeks until the marathon and all is not well. On September 10th I finished my very first 20-mile run. It went well and I felt great during the run. After? Not so much. Silly IT band, get on board! After seeing a sports med doc and PT, I'm still a go for the race on October 16th. I am terrified but determined. I am going to trust in my doc and PT who both assure me that I've done my training and even though I've not run much at all in the past two weeks and won't be able to run much leading up to the race, the 12 weeks of training I did put in will matter. It's weird to say, but I kind of feel lost not being able to run. I am certainly not one of those people who run because they love to run. But doing this training made me feel so strong, accomplished, proud, athletic...words I had never before used to describe myself. I really hope that I can get past this injury and not only run the marathon, but keep running in general. Fingers crossed.

Update complete! Pictures coming. Promise.

Pictures that make me happy

2011-08-12T04:01:00.000-07:00

My two superheros. They both wear these t-shirts pretty much all the time. I find myself doing laundry simply to keep these shirts in circulation. They are playing together more and more these days...when I catch them both giggling and squealing with laughter my heart simply swells to bursting.

I found the above shirt waaaaay on sale at Nordstrom. It suits my boy perfectly. The front has Sesame Street characters in superhero outfits and says, "Keeping the Street Safe." But the back of the shirt is what sold me...

A detatchable cape! What the what! We are ALL about capes in this house. Elijah squeals with pure joy whenever I pull this shirt out of the closet.

My boys.

Court!

This morning felt like Fall. The windows were open all night and I woke up to a slightly chilly house and the promise of my favorite season on the horizon. I am reminded of moments like the picture above...enjoying the pumpkin patch with my two-and-a-half baby girl.

These pictures make me start my day with a big smile on my face and an acute awareness of how incredibly lucky I am.

Hovering around: a helicopter mom dilemma

2011-08-04T11:45:00.000-07:00

Every once and a while one of the parenting magazines has an article on "the helicopter parent." Of course, what they really mean most of the time is the helicopter mommy. When I read those articles a part of me says, "well, I'm not like that, am I? No, I'm certainly not that bad." And then another wee voice in my head says, "Um, maybe I'm like that just a leetle bit?" I do my best, I really do. I work hard not to project all of my social insecurities (and there are many) onto my gregarious little L who is naturally outgoing and bold. So let me tell you why this morning was so damn hard for this recovered-helicopter-mommy:

This morning I had a serious mommy-fail. Some friends of mine and their tots meet at different playgrounds every Thursday morning. Today I went to the wrong one. Totally wrong and waaaaay to far away from the correct playground to make it there in time to get any playing done before the lunch/nap portion of our day. So, I decided that we'd just stay where we were and enjoy ourselves. Thankfully, this particular park has a small fenced-off area with toddler-sized equipment AND as we were getting ourselves settled two other moms both with kiddos ages 2 & 4 arrived. It seemed too good to be true: fenced in, age-appropriate playmates, shade, benches...I was in heaven.

It started out well. The other two 4-year-olds were both boys, but L generally gets along better with boys anyway. They both commented on how cool her Superman shirt and cape were, she agreed that yes, they were indeed cool, and then they were off having a great time. E was relatively sedate, sucking down his diluted apple juice and enjoying the fact that I was actually letting him climb up the toddler slide (another mommy-fail, as he slipped and fell...my bad). Me? I sat there thinking how this hasn't turned out so badly after all! Sure, I really ~~needed~~ wanted to see my friends and their beautiful babies, but at least we were having a great morning enjoying the weather and getting some quality playground time. Then I heard it: "Naa naa naa naa naa, you're a rotten eeeegggg!" Sure, the content was relatively harmless, but I quickly realized it was 100% directed at my girl. Both of the older boys were running around a bewildered looking L, pointing at her and saying the above phrase in that annoying, sing-songy way that makes my hair curl and my fists clench. Poor L looked confused and on the verge of angry (she was starting to whip out some of her Kung Fu moves as if to block the hateful little song), so I called her over.

L: "Mommy, those boys are calling me names!"

Me: "I know sweetie, but doing Kung Fu is not how we deal with that. You need to tell those boys to please stop calling you a rotten egg. Tell them that it hurts your feelings and you'd like them to stop."

Good for me, right ('cause it's all about me, y'all)? I didn't intervene. I attempted to give L the tools to deal with this herself. And she did. She marched back into the fray and each time the boys circled and pointed she loudly declared, "Please stop calling me that! I don't like that!" What did the boys do? They added new lyrics: "Naa naa naa naa naa, you're a poopy on the potty."

What pissed me off the most? Both of the boys' mothers were SITTING RIGHT THERE, happily chatting away while their sons singled out and taunted my daughter. I may helicopter my own children from time to time, but it would take a lot for me to intervene with anyone else's child. But dammit was I close today. The thought of confrontation in any form gives me the dry heaves, but I was sitting there formulating what I was going to have to say to these to clueless women. I had a few options:

Option 1 (polite but firm): "Excuse me, but your son is calling my daughter names and it's really hurting her feelings. Could you please ask him to stop?"

Option 2: "Woman, quit texting on your freakin' phone and gabbing away with the woman next to you about how early your son started walking/talking/reading...and for the love of God PARENT YOUR BRATTY CHILD OR I WILL."

Luckily it didn't come to that. One of the women finally stopped talking long enough to realize that her son was calling my daughter a poopy on the potty (oh, and he was now joined by his younger 2-year-old brother, isn't that charming) and called him over. I sat there, thrumming with excitement, expecting a very stern reprimand. What did she say? In that oh-I'm-so-amused-by-your-antics voice she said, "Oh honey, are you being the playground bully?" WTF??!!

I know, I know, we all have our own parenting styles. Call my old fashioned, but in my humble opinion, name calling, pointing, and taunting are NOT EVER OK. Especially when all of it is being directed at one poor, singled-out child. The above mom of the name-calling ring-leader seemed to take the "oh, boys will be boys" sort of attitude. I'm sorry, just because he has a penis does not make name calling and taunting somehow ok and even slightly amusing.

Has L ever been mean to another child? Sure. But I can assure you that if it was in my presence, L was pulled out of the situation, scolded, and then told to go back and apologize to whomever she had offended.

In the end I didn't hover and L handled the whole situation very well. She simply chose not to play near them anymore and we left the playground not long after. She's been talking about the incident all morning and it's maddening to see how two little strangers have hurt my daughters feelings, leaving her so confused as to why they would be so mean. I have no profound response for L's questions and can only tell her over and over that sometimes kids can be mean, and the best thing we can do is first ask them to stop and if they refuse, don't play with them anymore.

As for the mommies of the playground taunters? I'm disappointed. I'm frustrated. I'm tired. I spend 24/7 dealing with my own children, I wish I could go to a playground or any other public play space and not have to deal with the aftermath of other parents phoning it in (literally...if I see another mom texting away while her child wreaks havoc I will LOSE IT) because they seem too busy or too distracted to discipline their child. Again, I know this is coming out very judge-y, but right now I'm angry. I can't tell you how many times I've had to play with someone else's 4-5 year-old child at the pool while their mother/father/grandparent lounges on a beach chair and reads. Honestly, it happens almost every time. Not even addressing the safety issues of letting a 5-year-old swim totally unsupervised, I certainly did not schlep my two kids, towels, snacks, toys...etc. to be your kid's babysitter/playmate at the pool.

After all of that venting, my dilemma is this: I can avoid helicoptering my own kids, but what to do when someone else's child is misbehaving? Not just misbehaving, but hurting your child (either physically or verbally) and the parent of said child isn't stepping up? Would you fly your helicopter into their airspace?

Hair Part II: Good Hair = Good Mommy?

2011-08-02T11:03:00.000-07:00

I recently devoted an entire post to my daughter's hair. Even as I type that it seems mildly ridiculous. I mean, there are far more important parenting issues to be discussed, right? Well, maybe. I think I speak for many transracial adoptive mamas when I say that, to some degree, I measure my success as a mother of a brown curly girl by the current state (an length) of her hair. Before bringing L home I read a bit about the care of curly hair, checking out pictures, imagining the cute styles I would create. After L joined our family I realized I was way over my head. So, I followed blogs on haircare & styles, read articles, tried a million different products, and slowly started the hair styling ritual we have today. When her hair was shorter I learned how to do puffs, create ruler-straight parts, and attempt the occasional coil or twist style. Now that L is 4, I've advanced to cornrows, twists, braid and twist-outs, you name it, we've tried it. And products? I honestly don't even want to think about how much time and money I've spent on finding that perfect product (hint: it doesn't exist). When women of color compliment L's hair or even her hairstyle, I practically glow with pride, eager to run home and tell my husband of my recent hair triumph. When a woman at the grocery store started asking my what products I used, I pretty much skipped the entire way home. She, a woman of color, was asking little old moi for product advice!!

Throughout this hair journey, I've frequently questioned why I spend so much time not only doing, but thinking about doing L's hair (it's one of my favorite things to think about when I can't sleep). When did I start believing that my success as a mother was somehow related to L's hair? Whenever I thought about writing a blog post about the social issues that surround the care of my daughter's hair, I felt completely overwhelmed. The topic is so tricky and potentially polarizing I hesitated every time I went to sit down and write. Okay, I chickened out. But no longer! I will dip my tippy toes into the fray. I will start out by saying that, as a white woman, I absolutely do not pretend to understand the relationship a woman of color has with her own hair. I am speaking, rather, to the judgement passed on mothers based on the condition/health/style (or lack thereof)/length of their daughters' hair.

What got me all fired up? I read this article by Allison Samuels for Newsweek. In the article, Samuels slams Angelina Jolie for allowing her daughter, Zahara, to walk around "sporting hair that is wild and unstyled, uncombed and dry. Basically: a 'hot mess.'" She goes on to add that "to many, she'll be just a little black girl - and a black girl with bad hair at that." I can't even begin to articulate how this article made me feel. Sure, Samuels may be directing her comments to the mother, there is no denying the fact that she wrote cruel things about A FREAKIN' 4-YEAR-OLD GIRLS HAIR. Unacceptable. There is simply no excuse. Samuels frequently uses the words "neat," "in place," and "nice" to describe the ideal, and words like "wild" and "unruly" to describe Zahara's hair. I very much resist the idea that L's hair when in its natural curly state (meaning, not manipulated in any way past some leave-in conditioner) is somehow wrong. That is the texture God gave her and it's beautiful. Is it wild? Sure, in the most wonderful sense of the word. And let me say one other thing: I often put much more time, effort and love into L's loose hair than when it's in cornrows. Daily conditioning, finger detangling, styling...etc. "Wild" loose hair does NOT mean hair that has been ignored or is somehow unkempt. At least not in my experience.

And what of the accusations leveled at Angelina Jolie? Is she to be labeled as a bad mother because her daughter's hair is found to be socially unacceptable? Samuels makes her opinion clear in this follow-up article along with the insinuation that Madonna is a better adoptive mother for making sure that "Mercy all the attention she needs from head to toe and inside and out" because Mercy's hair is most often in tidy cornrows. Clearly Samuels does not take into consideration that many Ethiopians have a hair texture that does not take to cornrows very well at all. The times that I do L's hair in cornrows are few simply because her curls do not hold the style for more than a few days.

Now, on one point I do agree with Samuels: all transracial adoptive parents need to put in the work to understand all aspects of their child's birth culture. That includes history, religion, and yes, grooming. Yet Samuels' idea of what constitutes "acceptable" hair just doesn't sit right with me. In this second article, she attempts to clarify that her definition of unacceptable hair was "uncombed, unconditioned, and unbrushed." Yet the language she used in both articles to describe both acceptable and unacceptable hair indicates (at least in my opinion) a major bias against curly hair in its natural state. My L loves to wear her hair (or as she likes to call it, her mane) big and free. There is nothing "neat" or "in place" about L's hair when we style it loose.

I want my daughter to LOVE her hair and all that it can be: big and curly, twisted, braided, in puffs and piggy tails, up or down, intricately styled or wash-and-go. I do take considerable time to make sure L's hair is healthy and well-maintained. I do frequently worry what African American women think of L's hair and I definitely bask in the glow of their praise when she is complimented by women of color. But I worry that I'm inadvertantly feeding into this bad hair/bad mommy syndrome. I like what Latoya Peterson wrote in this article: "We can help shap a world in which she [Zahara] doesn't feel pressured to relax her hair to conform, nor does she feel deficient if she decides to wear her hair the way the way it grows out of her head. We can shape a world where a decision to relax one's hair is inconsequential as a decision to dye or cut it." I really hope my L grows up in that world.

Cornrows, twist-outs, free hair, oh my!

2011-07-25T12:06:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking on L's hair quite a bit lately. I mean, I already think on it a whole lot, but her gorgeous curls have been taking up slightly more valuable real estate in my brain as of late.

One, I am in a rut. Style-wise, that is. You would think that the most challenging times would be in the colder months: mixing it up for school, dealing with the dry and cold winter months...etc. I find summer to be much more of a challenge, especially as L grows into an ever-increasing ACTIVE child. She swims, she plays, she bikes, she pretends to be a Kung Fu master and all of these activities wreak havoc on her fragile curls. Cornrows? I did L's whole head in July and it was glorious:

Loved that I didn't have to "do" her hair every day. True, her 3c curls don't hold cornrows for terribly long, requiring me to re-braid a row or two every couple of days, but it still gave L (and yours truly) so much more freedom and flexibility. The big BUT in this is that it takes some patience and time to get her whole head braided. Between washing, detangling, stretching and braiding, I think it took me three days to complete her head. Add to that the fact that my once easy-going-and-easy-to-style toddler has turned into little miss contrary, and you can start to understand while I'm not gagging to do a whole head of cornrows. She'll sit for me, but it's not pretty. There is LOTS of whining, fidgeting, yelling, bribing (who, me?), bargaining, begging, pleading (seriously, I stoop pretty low sometimes) and the occasional crocodile tear involved in a major style session. I'm thinking of doing some Ghana threading this week. It doesn't look terribly hard (if you can do twists, you can do this) and appears to be a great protective style (no rubber bands required!). I found it on this amazing Youtube channel, Girls Love Your Curls. Box braids is another option, but one that has never really wow'd me in L's hair. Her curls are too fine to have an unbanded braid (meaning, no band at the base of the braid), and thus the idea of a protective style is kinda lost, as there are tons of tiny rubber bands in her hair. One of my favorite styles on L is a braid- or twist-out. I wash/condition/detangle one night, banding her hair with cloth bands to stretch the hair. The next night I do small flat twists all over her head and take out in the morning. The result: a head of shiny, soft, BIG, beautiful curls:

The only drawback of this style is that it not only takes some TLC to maintain those curls over the course of a couple of days, but one afternoon at the pool at you're back where you started: wet hair and no style.

The option I've chose for the past week as I slowly ~~gather my courage~~ make up my mind about her next style is a semi-free style that requires only a medium amount of maintenance (about 30-45 minutes each morning). I did 4 cornrows which serve to protect her hairline but also function as a headband of sorts. The rest of her head is completely au natural. By that I don't mean there is no product in there (let's not get crazy, people), but her curls are not manipulated in any way at all. Each morning I simply spray some water on the curls that were smooshed at night and over the course of the previous day (generally the back of her head is the worst...thanks, car seats), add some diluted conditioner (currently using Deva Curl's One Condition) and detangle with my fingers. Lately I've been finishing with Ouidad's Climate Control Heat & Humidity Gel. Lordy, I love this stuff (they have it at my local Sephora). Her hair is a tiny bit crunchy at first, but is soft and bouncy all day long, and her curls stay defined even in this ridiculous humidity we've had. The result is pretty awesome and very much matches L's personality. This is how her hair IS:

Um, don't mind the cherry juice. My girl LOVES cherries.

Sulking because I'm making her stand still.

I love this picture. She is sooooo annoyed with me at this point.

Again, the only problem is that this style is not pool-friendly (and we're set to hit the pool today, darnit).

So, we'll try the Ghana threading over the next couple of days and see how that goes. I love the idea of it, here's hoping the execution is as relatively straight-forward as it seems!

If anyone has thoughts on other protective styles, let me know! My goal is to find a style that will last perhaps a week and doesn't require lots of banding (I am trying to keep her hairline as stress-free as possible).

Happy Hair, everyone!

The Fourth in Pictures (and just a few words...)

2011-07-07T11:22:00.000-07:00

We had a glorious Fourth of July weekend at Chez Mimi & Papa. Here are some of my favorite photos from the weekend:

Don't you love the Port-a-Pottys in the background. I do.

Such a serious (but handsome) face!

Water gun = happy boy.

Seersucker pants made by yours truly. He hated them, but I forced him to wear them for just one afternoon.

The three cousins

L learned how to throw a ball, thanks to Uncle Scott! I love that she's wearing my Dad's old mitt from when he was a kid. You can even see where my Grandma wrote his name.

Even more amazing, she learned to catch! For those who know me best, we all knew she wasn't going to learn that particular skill from me.

E spent the vast majority of the weekend in the hammock. Seriously, the boy luuurves to swing. Sadly, every time I tried to take a picture, he'd start whining for me to continue pushing.

Doesn't he look like he just heard a dirty joke? And yes, I will be modifying the pants pattern, as they are clearly not roomy enough for a full diaper.

L and worms.

D and worms.

Worms.

Beautiful girl. Those cornrows took a good while but boy were they worth it. They lasted at least two weeks and only required some minor touch-ups. Why mess with hair when there is fishing to be done!

D is the best cousin ever. L follows him around like a puppy dog and he is amazingly kind and patient with his little cousin.

My favorite of my Dad's t-shirts: "The trout, the whole trout, and nothing but the trout."

Thank you, Mimi & Papa, for a wonderful and unforgettable Fourth of July weekend!

My Food, My Body, My Daughter

2011-07-04T11:16:00.000-07:00

I've had this blog post rolling around in my head for a few days now. Originally, I was going to write about how training for a marathon has significantly changed my intensely rocky relationship with food for the better. To think of food as fuel is a rather foreign concept to me. For much of my teenage and college years, food was either something I could viciously control, or a hateful reminder that I was a not perfect (a failure).

I am a recovered anorexic and bulimic. It's something I talk freely about with anyone who asks, but not something I've addressed in this blog. Why? Not sure. I do find myself a wee bit uncomfortable right now, not because I'm embarrassed, but because thanks to television, movies & celebrity "news" coverage, eating disorders have become so cliche. I can still remember watching (the original, thank you very much) 90210 where Kelly had anorexia for like, 2 freaking episodes. Really??!! My eating disorder is certainly not as severe as it could have been, but 20 years later I may not be having active relapses, but I still grapple with food and body issues on a daily basis. I spent 2 years of high school in a daze, manically counting calories (usually about 250/day) and desperately searching for new ways to hide the fact that I either wasn't eating, or was spending the majority of the night and early morning purging. It still amazes me that there are rather large chunks of those years I simply don't remember. There's not much room for memories when every waking thought is devoted to food and how to triumph over it. I had a not-terribly-surprising relapse in college, and then one in grad school that completely caught me off guard. I was 25, married, at my dream grad school doing what I loved, and eating only the broth from chicken noodle soup. Thankfully, the last relapse was rather short-lived and 10 years later, I'm happy to say I've not had one since.

As with many things in life, motherhood included, I've discovered that my eating disorder is another one of those things that will probably be a "work in progress" forever. And now that it's bleeding into my relationship with my daughter, I'm on high alert. I quickly realized that I've got some work to do.

My little family just had a glorious weekend at the lake. We swam. We ate. We water skied. We ate. We drank. We ate. By yesterday afternoon, I was not only filled with food, but with absolute panic. I felt completely and totally out of control. The old inner dialogue, which has been present but quiet over the past decade, was loud and insistent once again. It is NOT OK to eat cake after EVERY MEAL! What if I can't stop eating? The food is there and I can't seem to stop myself. What's wrong with me? What happened to my self-control? All of these thought spinning around in my head as I tried to remain calm and ride it out. And then, to my absolute horror, my inner dialogue started in on my daughter. I am cringing with shame right now, but what's the point of writing about this if I'm not honest, no?

This was a vacation weekend for all of us and we ate accordingly: French toast, bacon, muffins, bagels, chips, popsicles, cake, cake, and more cake, hot dogs...etc. If it is served at a county fair, we probably had it. When I realized that my daughter had been eating just like me all weekend, I felt a whole new kind of panic, followed immediately by incredible amounts of guilt and shame (did I for a moment worry about my son's eating? Nope, and I suspect that is a whole other post entirely). It was a brief and passing moment, thankfully, but it happened and I'm left trying to figure out how to deal with it. Let me say right now, I know that L is a happy, healthy little girl. Once a tiny and malnourished baby (only 8 lbs at 5mos), L is an incredibly active 4 year-old. I know this. I also recall, before parenthood, talking with my husband and stating firmly that I would never allow my eating issues to ever come close to my kids. They were my issues, after all. But it didn't work out that way, no siree.

Once again, the universe has put me in my place. Here I was, thinking I had this thing licked. I was training for a marathon, reveling in the fact that I was actually having a happy and productive relationship with food. At 35, feeling pretty darn content with my body. Hell, even liking the way I looked more often than not. I may not have had a relapse, but I've had my eyes opened. As with almost everything related to motherhood, there is some serious work to be done. I know it's impossible to protect my girl from the barrage media images, all telling us that we aren't tall enough, thin enough, pretty enough, have clear enough skin, tight enough jeans, long enough hair, a flat enough tummy, perky enough tush...etc. My worst fear is that, however unconsciously, I'll be contributing to the barrage that's aimed right at my little girl.

Heigh ho, it's back to work I go.

He loves me, he loves me not...

2011-06-14T11:55:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking quite a bit about rejection lately. Specifically, the rejection of your adopted infant and/or toddler and the laundry list of emotions that follow. I had been safe in my he-prefers-me-to-all-others bubble for almost a year. E simply wanted me more than anyone else...I could do no wrong (of course, I still insist this is absolutely true). I have not stressed over his attachment the way I did with L. I'm sure much of this has to do with the fact that L was my first and thus I obsessed over EVERYTHING, but also L was just a different baby. She was friendly, warm, engaging, but it took a long time to really feel secure that she knew me. I remember frequently asking hubby, "Do you think she really knows I'm her mother?" To my darling better half, this became a "does my butt look big?" kind of question. No matter his answer, I wasn't satisfied. I read every possible book on attachment, found those dreadful checklists online and obsessed over every single bullet point. When did I stop fretting over L? I honestly cannot recall. Now she is a very verbal 4-year-old and tells me she loves me multiple times each day.

Almost from the moment I met my sweet little E he sought me over all others. I will always remember how shocked, astonished and pleased I was when we asked a favorite nanny to take a picture with him before we checked him out of the orphanage for good. If you look at the picture, the whole time he is whining, reaching out and leaning towards me. E's first year home was wonderful in the sense that I didn't really stress too much about his attachment because he always demanded to be with me, but challenging as well because I had never mothered such a needy child. His need to be constantly touching me is most often a lovely thing, but there have been (and still are) moments when I could scream for the need for some personal space.

But this past week, my dear friends, HE rejected ME. What the what??!! We're moving into a Daddy phase, I suspect, and I'm surprised at how I'm reacting - I'm uncomfortable, uneasy, hurt, needy. I find myself trying waaaaay too hard to make him laugh or smile, just so I can have some tangible proof that my boy still loves me ("He likes me, he really likes me!"). Poor thing, I can just see the inner dialogue on his face when I get this way: "Geez. Why won't she just give me some personal space? A man can only take so many kisses."

What I cannot seem to explain to myself is that right now he has been like this with pretty much everyone as of late. E has some language delays and the frustration that he experienced just a month ago is now exponentially greater. He wants things, and I can't understand him. Lately the majority of our days go as follows:

Elijah: "Mama, baba." (gesturing vaguely)

Me: "What? Juice? Snack? Tree? Flower? Lion? I'm sorry honey, I don't know what 'baba' is."

Add in the fact that, with very few exceptions he calls everything "baba", no wonder he gets pissed. I try to consider also that I am the one with him the majority of the time. When Daddy is home, E still most frequently comes to me with requests & demands, thus Daddy isn't forced to engage in the "baba" dialogue of frustration.

But oh, the rejection! Why does it hurt so much? Why do I take the often arbitrary actions of a toddler to heart? When it happens, why do I get that pit-in-the-stomach feeling of insecurity in my mothering? In his attachment? I know this will pass...I know it for sure as I now have absolutely NO problems when L is angry with me (Lord knows that happens frequently enough). I know it's a good thing that he's lovin' on his Daddy so much, but golly, I wasn't ready. I wasn't prepared to let anyone into our exclusive little club. Hell, I didn't even know there was a club until E started inviting other people and jealousy reared its ugly head. My baby who really wasn't a baby for long is definitely not a baby now. He's starting to see more things, notice more people and the desire to interact with those things and people is growing. I realize now that as much as I've bitched about having to carry this gigantic boy everywhere, I'm now so very sad that he might be starting to give that up, and letting my insecurity dictate what it all means.

One year ago today...

2011-06-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

I met my beautiful son, E. As you can see, our relationship had a bit of a rocky start. Apparently we arrived during his afternoon nap and he was more than a little groggy when he was first placed in my arms. Poor baby, it hurts my heart to see these photos where he is so clearly terrified and confused. What you can't tell from this photo is how terrified I was as well. But I simply held him close and kept whispering to him that I was his mommy and he was so very loved and that he could cry as long as he wanted, I would wait.

Eventually he calmed down and snuggled into me...one of his very best traits. He is truly the snuggliest baby ever.

Our first family photo. As you can see, he's still in shock, clinging to his new teething ring for dear life.

E and Mommy asleep in the Frankfurt airport.

E & L a few weeks after we arrived home. As you can see, L is not terribly pleased with her new ~~competition~~ little brother.

E's first birthday. Already looking less like a baby and more like a toddler. Sniff sniff.

Fun at Mimi & Papa's!

Just took this yesterday. He was not afraid of the sprinkler for ONE MINUTE. And check out the pirate skull & crossbones on his trunks. How cute is that? I do love me some Target.

Gorgeous boy. Those eyes.

I don't know why I love this photo so much. It's just so very him. He may walk away from me for a wee bit, but he's always always checking in, blessing me with his smile.

My beautiful boy. One year ago today a nanny put you in my arms and my life changed forever. Here are some things I want to always remember about you: you love to be in your mama's arms (seriously, I'm getting some impressive guns as my boy just keeps getting bigger and bigger), and when you get sleepy, you pop your right thumb in your mouth and your left hand immediately goes down the front of my shirt. Your dance moves are hilarious: some random squats followed by a rather violent up & down movement of the arms. Your emotions are swift and dramatic...if you feel as though you've been wronged (perhaps by another cute little Ethiopian that happens to be your sister) you make sure we KNOW it. And if you are happy, it's huge smiles, laughter, and dancing (like when I gave you your first sucker today). You are fearless and your curiosity and desire to get into things is unparalleled. I had never heard of a 15-month toddler learning to open baby gates, or doors, or plastic water bottles until you, my little MacGyver. You give the best sloppy kisses (some day we'll have to talk about how you shouldn't go in for a kiss with your mouth wide open, but that can wait a few more years). You are a mama's boy, through and through, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Happy "Gotcha Day," my amazing, beautiful boy. Every day I thank my lucky stars that God brought us together.

Adoption and the "M" word: Money

2011-06-04T03:32:00.000-07:00

The other day I found an article on cnn.com about how the vast majority of adoptive families have had their adoption tax credit audited by the IRS this year. The article was not terribly helpful, simply stating what I already knew from experience: the IRS is auditing a whole mess of people. I did make the mistake, however, of reading the comments. Wow. Big mistake. It was filled with such hate and ignorance I am still pissed off about it. Angry in the kind of way that I spend waaaaay too much time sitting around thinking about what kind of eloquent and compelling response I would give these people if I had my druthers. So, I head here, dear Internet, to try and purge this incident from my head so I can focus on the happy things in life.

What several commenters insinuated or outright stated was that the adoption tax credit was no better than welfare (why a person would be against welfare is another blog post for another day) and that they suspect some adoptive families were simply doing it for the "windfall" otherwise known as the adoption tax credit. I almost choked when I read that one. Windfall?? Really??!!

Here is what I want people to know: I did not adopt to make money from the government. If I didn't find the idea so horribly insulting I would be laughing. Here are the facts: The most recent Adoptive Families survey reported that the average cost of adoption was $30,000. The majority of domestic infant adoptions cost between $25,000 and $35,000, while a "strong majority" of international adoptions cost more than $25,000. The current adoption tax credit is $13,170. Do the math.

For me and many I know, the adoption tax credit is what made our adoptions possible. Without the tax credit, I suspect most would find the cost of adoption absolutely prohibitive. What, I wonder, would the world of adoption look like without the tax credit? More and more children abroad spending more time in institutionalized care (many countries already struggling to provide for millions of orphans and at-risk children), children here at home being put into an already overloaded foster care system.

Why I chose to build my family through adoption is a whole other post entirely, but I can say with absolute certainty that money had nothing to do with it. So there, ignorant article-commenters, is my eloquent response to your uninformed and hostile accusations.

Next up? Perhaps the following posts: "No, I didn't adopt out of some philanthropic impulse to save the children of Africa," and "Nope, I'm nothing like Angelina Jolie and I didn't adopt because of her."

When I need something to smile about...

2011-05-27T11:24:00.000-07:00

I take a look at these gorgeous babies of mine. Our car was returned to us today after being stolen and missing for almost a month. I really haven't experienced much anger about our car being stolen until today. Today my car was returned without carseats and looking & smelling like an ashtray. They left cigarette ashes EVERYWHERE. They left food, hand sanitizer (don't even want to think about that) and an f'ing sweatshirt for me to clean up. I'm pissed. I simply don't understand how someone can steal a car with two carseats and have a joyride without realizing that they were stranding a family with two small children. It doesn't feel like my car anymore and I suspect it won't until after a very very thorough cleaning. So, I choose not to dwell on the shittiness of car thieves, but rather at my beautiful and lovely children. I know I'm hopelessly biased, but aren't they gorgeous????

Wearing the adorable shirt I made her last week. A FREE Oliver & S pattern!

Slightly blurry, I know, but this is E. Love his smile, even with the constant stream of drool.

L right before her Flying Pig race! Cute Adidas outfit from Costco, of all places.

E sat there and played with pots & pans sorting jars of babyfood. Love his concentration face.

He loves that hat. I don't have the heart to tell him it doesn't fit.

Beauty.

One of these things is not like the other

2011-05-22T12:06:00.000-07:00

From a rather young age, my daughter noticed that she was different from her Mommy & Daddy. I can't recall precisely, but I think she was not even 3 when she declared me and my husband to be pink. She, of course, was brown. This statement was delivered with the emotion one might find in a reading of the phonebook. Sure, my husband and I may have initially exchanged terrified looks (we're not ready to have this discussion!!), but we soon realized she was noticing our skin color the way that she also noticed the weather, what we were having for breakfast...etc. Toddlers are truly the most literal creatures on the planet, I have come to learn.

She is now 4 and her perception of the world has definitely expanded and deepened in the past year or so. I recall a conversation we had earlier this year on the way home from school. She was irritated that some of her friends had called her "black." Mainly she was confused and perhaps wondering if her friends were colorblind as she was clearly brown. "But Mommy, my skin is BROWN. My HAIR is black." Again, back to that habit of being completely literal. We've since tried to explain to her that often people with brown skin are referred to as black, but she simply won't budge on the point. She is brown, dammit, and people better start getting their act together.

Over the years, with each little comment and question I have taken the same approach: try to figure out exactly what she is asking and address that and that only. Race is such an emotionally loaded issue to all adults, it is a slippery slope when talking to our very young children, most of whom simply want the facts, ma'am. The danger of over-informing is great. This is not to say that I will always address race with my children in a completely unemotional and neutral way, but for L's age, I think it's appropriate. Her questions are void of emotional baggage, and so my answers should be as well.

Two very recent incidents, though, have had me baffled. I'm back to "how the hell do I deal with this? What is the appropriate thing to say here? Where is my damn book on transracial adoption???!!!!" mode. Her comments haven't been that inflammatory, per se, but definitely at a new level. I realized that I'm going to have to reconsider my approach and adjust to the fact that my daughter is starting to see herself more and more in relation to all that is around her. Especially her family.

Incident #1: Over the past month or so I've been watching my niece a couple days each week. She is white. We were sitting around the table having a snack when L says, "Mama, K looks just like you. You are both pink. I want to look like you, too." It was the very first comment L has ever made where she wasn't 100% overjoyed with looking the way she does. Normally, self-confidence is not an issue with my little girl. She likes her brown skin, brown eyes, and she likes her black hair BIG. The other day she told her Daddy to take her hair out of her bedtime braids because she wanted her hair to be "wide." I know that her comment came from simply wanting to be like her Mommy, the person she loves, but I was still thrown. I think I babbled something about how we may look different, but that we're a family and some families look different and remember Dinosaur Train? In that show Buddy is a T-Rex and doesn't look like his Mommy Mrs. Pteranadon but they are still a family and love each other...yada yada yada. Midway through that eloquent speech L had already tuned out and was back to pretending to be a lion.

Incident #2: I was racing L up the stairs to bedtime when she gleefully yelled, "Mommy, I'm the speediest! E and I are on the brown team and you and Daddy are on the pink team! The brown team is going to win!" Teams? WTF? I remember looking down the stairs at hubby who was wearing and equally incredulous facial expression. How in the world was I to address this?? Is it a big deal? Should we talk about this? Am I blowing this out of proportion? I mean, I am glad that she appears to be thrilled that her brother is brown "just like her." But to make teams out of us? After much thought, I realized I was making just the mistake I addressed above: I was assigning waaaay to much emotion and baggage to L's innocent statement. She could just as easily have declared the race to be boys against girls, grown-ups against kids. She is only seeing those differences that are visible and obvious. Of course, I did say something about how we are one big family made up of different kinds of people. And of course, she heard half of it and was once again pretending to be a lion.

So, it's back to the books for this mom. Even though L is still young and very much in the land of the painfully literal, it's become increasingly clear that her questions and comments are going to quickly get more complex and tougher to answer. One day she isn't going to drift off during my speech and pretend to be a lion. She's going to be sitting there listening to me, looking to me for answers and guidance.

Tina Fey's Prayer for Her Daughter

2011-05-10T10:33:00.000-07:00

Love this excerpt from Tina Fey's new book, Bossypants:

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short - a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day - And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

The Great Work Experiment

2011-05-09T11:58:00.000-07:00

When we began the adoption process, I always knew I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. Did I know exactly what that job would entail? Nope. Almost 3.5 years ago we brought home L and my life changed in almost every possible way. I wish I could say that the transition was easy. It was not. at. all. I remember sitting hubby down and telling him that I had set a deadline for myself, and if I was still miserable, we were going to have to search for other alternatives. In hindsight, I was being waaaay hard on myself (who, me?). It was the dead of winter in Chicago, I had no car and was thus completely house-bound for almost 3 months. I remember taking L to the Lincoln Park Zoo one day in April when it was only in the 40's. That's how desperate I was to get out of the apartment.

Thankfully, I found my mommy groove and have never had a moment of regret choosing to stay at home with my kids. Let me state here and now that this is, by no means, me saying that one choice is better than the other. Some moms work, some don't. Whatever keeps mommy happy and fulfilled results in happy children and a happy household. 'Nuff said.

Two months ago I was given the opportunity to sub for a voice teacher who had gone into early labor. Good friends of mine are on faculty at this particular university and I simply couldn't turn it down. To say that I was terrified is a massive understatement. I hadn't taught a lesson since we brought L home in 2008. Once the logistics were worked out (thanks to the help of the best family ever) I started to prepare myself to leave my kiddos. For six weeks I was gone from Sunday evening until Wednesday evening. I can honestly say I have never left my babies for that long. Come to think of it, I believe it was the very first time I'd spent the night away from E.

There were some tearful Skype moments, but all in all the kids and I handled the change pretty well. Teaching came back to me like, well, riding a bike, I guess. I was busy and focused and taking some secret joy in the fact that people were actually calling me Dr. Grandey again!! All those degrees I spent 10 years accumulating were finally being used! My students were all lovely and accepting, and I do think some of them made significant progress with me which resulted in a very very rewarding experience overall.

I was beginning to think that I might be able to do this at home. Find a job teaching 15 or so hours a week, make some extra money, find a childcare provider that works out of the home, no problem! I was plotting and planning my return to the professional world until the week I took my kids with me to Michigan. Wow. Getting up in the morning, trying to get ready for work while simultaneously getting the kids dressed & fed, dealing with E who does not ever want to be put down (not easy applying mascara and holding a baby, but I managed), dropping two reluctant kids off at daycare...it was the hardest three days of motherhood in recent memory. I have such a renewed respect for working moms. It took a level of multi-tasking that I simply do not possess. When my kids were back home with family, I could forget them while I was teaching and really focus on my students. When they were with me they were on my mind ALL DAY. All I wanted to do was finish teaching so I could go and pick up my babies. Then when I did pick them up it was rush home, get dinner ready, jammies, and then suddenly it was bedtime. It was exhausting. Seriously, working moms...you rock. You must have deep wells of energy I haven't yet tapped.

The main think I took away from this experience was to remember how incredibly lucky I am to be able to choose whether or not I want to go back to work. In the end I decided that E was just not ready for me to be gone for any significant amount of time quite yet. Shockingly, my outgoing and easygoing L took it the hardest. She doesn't like me to go anywhere without her now, and constantly tells me, "Mama, I missed you when you were in Michigan." Sheesh.

Will I teach again one day? Absolutely. I am so thankful that I was able to do a "trial run" of sorts just to make sure I hadn't lost my skills (totally had anxiety that my students would sing for me and I would just sit there. speechless. my mind blank). But for right now staying home with my kids makes me happy and fulfilled. I love the job of being their mom. I know one day all too soon they won't need me nearly as much, so I'm going to gratefully savor every moment I have with them now.

Happy Birthday, doodlebug!

2011-04-26T16:50:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow my girl turns 4. Lately, I look at her with complete amazement. She's a bonafide little girl. No chubby baby parts to her at all, she's all lanky limbs and a big 'ol head of hair. She includes phrases such as "that freaks me out" or "I just can't take it" into her daily speech. She does, however, call an umbrella a "hambrella." It tickles me and so I haven't corrected her just yet.

I remember the day I got "the call." It was a Monday afternoon and I had just arrived at work. I remember spending the next couple of weeks completely freaked out at how insanely tiny she was. At 5 months old she was only 8 pounds - not even close to making it onto the WHO growth chart. When we met L she was 8 months old and a whopping 12 pounds. Still so tiny, but already full of the personality for which she is now notorious.

My darling L is bright, hilarious, scary smart, energetic, dramatic, and incredibly loving (she just turned to me and said, "Mommy, I am so very glad you are home from the store. I missed you so much." Oy).

Happy Birthday, Doodlebug. The day I met you was one of the best days of my life. I love you so much there are simply no words.

Guilty Pleasure

2011-04-08T11:59:00.000-07:00

Has anyone else seen the show Parenthood lately? Lordy, I do love that show. I rarely watch it in the evenings, but rather I enjoy catching it on Hulu on rainy afternoons when the babes are napping. My brain knows that the show is beyond corny, but I just can't stop! I can honestly say that I have never watched an episode and NOT cried and cried. It's that cheesy and wonderful.

And despite the heightened drama that is the cornerstone of any show like this, there are frequently episodes that hit rather close to home. For example, in the past two shows one of the characters is dealing with infertility. I am always amazed at how quick my eyes are to well up whenever I watch a show that has infertility as a part of the storyline. Why does this happen? I am the incredibly joyful and blessed mother of two of the most wonderful little human beings on the planet. I love them so much it astounds me. So why the tears?

I can truthfully say that I have no regrets from our journey of becoming the family that we are today. Each and every experience has shaped me as a person, shaped my marriage, and shaped how I am a mother to my kids. But I think those years of infertility treatments (and subsequent failures) have left scars deep down where I don't see them every day or even every month... but they are there. And perhaps they will always be there, just like a physical scar. Because really, how can one endure the endless shots, nurses, pills, getting blood drawn every other day for weeks, procedures, more shots, hormones, the indignity of those damn stirrups... and all to see the empty bubble that was my uterus on the ultrasound screen every. single. time (10, to be exact).

The thing that struck me the most about the episode I just watched (mascara lines down my cheeks to prove it!) was the husband. He was perhaps not quite as emotional about it as the wife, but pretty darn close. I thought of my darling hubby and how he was the opposite. He gave me those horrible shots in the ass with a steady hand. He may have cried on his own, but I never knew it. All I knew was that he was there for every meltdown, every hormone-induced freak-out, every run to KFC when I was on bed rest, and he was steady. Calm. I knew without having to ask that he was going to take care of me for both my physical pain and my grief each time a cycle failed. I remember our final IVF so vividly, even though it was 5 years ago. We had actually received the news that the cycle had worked! Of course, things happened over the course of the next week that gave me cause for concern and definitely kept my hopes at the "cautiously optimistic" level, but I still was not truly prepared for that moment on the table when the doctor, nurse and I looked expectantly at the ultrasound screen, hoping to see a little blob with a heartbeat and instead saw nothing at all. I had a 30-mile drive home where I knew hubs was at home having lunch. I remember calling him pretty much hysterical yelling, "There was nothing there!" And when I arrived home he comforted me, now a complete sobbing mess, took me up to bed and handled all of the phone calls we would soon get from family members wanting to know how the scan went. I still can't believe he did that. Had to repeat over and over on the phone that no, the scan did not go well and yes, I was ok but didn't want to talk to anyone. I can honestly say I don't know anyone stronger than my husband.

So honey, here it is, ~~perhaps~~ definitely not said enough: you are my hero. My knight in shining armor, making my heart go pitty pat. We may lead rather mundane lives here in the 'burbs and your acts of heroism may not be as dramatic as in the TV shows, but know that they are noticed and appreciated. Like when we were at someone's house and something broke leading L to say, "My Daddy could fix that. He can fix anything."

Married at 22 looking like babies, we got through college, grad school, a year apart, transfers to the middle of nowhere and then Chicago, infertility through all of that, baby #1 and baby #2, and now we're slogging through the land of mortgages, preschools, tantrums, diapers, yard work... scary stuff, man. But I have no fear. I've got my knight with me.

Of two minds...

2011-03-29T11:21:00.000-07:00

It's been all over the internets as of late: Ethiopian adoptions will be severely cut back, by as much as 90%. Here is the skinny (taken from the State Department's Intercountry Adoption website)...

On March 9th, MOWCYA announced a plan to implement a reduction in case processing from approximately 50 per day to only 5 per day. MOWCYA has stated that this reduction is to improve screening of adoption cases while also devoting existing resources to other priorities on vulnerable children.

I've read so many differing reactions to the announcement: disbelief, anger, fear and sadness on one side, and relief that the Ethiopian goverment is doing something to combat the ever growing problem of corruption and fraud in the adoption process on the other. Me? I feel it all. I am truly of two minds on all of this.

When we started the adoption process to bring home L back in the spring of 2006, there were only 5 agencies licensed in Ethiopia. It was still a small program and was only just beginning to change because of the slowing or cancelled programs in China, Guatemala, Nepal & Korea. When I first joined the online groups as we submitted the first of our paperwork, families were getting referrals in a matter of weeks. By the time we had our dossier submitted in February of 2007, the wait for a referral had increased from 3-4 weeks to 5-7 months. One can only imagine how ill-prepared the government agencies of Ethiopia were to deal with such a massive increase in cases. As Ethiopian adoption became increasingly popular, more and more agencies jumped on the bandwagon. Some good, some bad. When we started the adoption process for E in the winter of 2009, the amount of agencies with an active Ethiopian program was overwhelming, and the rumors and stories of fraud and corruption were disheartening, to put it mildly.

I think what MOWA is doing is a positive step. In my heart I simply cannot justify 100 "good" adoptions if there is even one case where a child was taken from his/her birth family through manipulation or fraud. The Ethiopian government needs to take the time to build their infastructure so that they can review each and every case, making sure the agencies working in Ethiopia have provided full disclosure as to how each and every child has come to be declared an orphan.

Yet it wasn't too long ago when I was submitting paperwork, going through homestudies, and living in that horrible limbo where all waiting families reside. Wanting a child so desperately and having almost every aspect of the process out of your control is a horrible feeling. I remember the fear I felt when I heard Ethiopia had decided that parents would have to be present for court, thus requiring two trips and countless delays. We were lucky to squeak through before that was implemented but I have plenty of friends who had their lives turned upside down during that time. Sadly, that now seems like small potatoes compared to what is happening now. I think of all the families who are now glued to their e-mail, waiting for news from their agencies, trying in vain to get a grasp on the new timeline these changes will create. When they get a referral now, how long until court? After court, how long until an embassy date? 3 months? Six? Twelve? No one knows, but it doesn't look good when we're talking a 90% reduction of a process that has already slowed so much over the past couple of years. Add to that the backlog created each year during the rainy season closings...it's grim.

What hurts my heart the most? The thought that so many children will now live in institutionalized care for even longer periods of time. I can barely bring myself to think of my kids' life before they came "home" to me. It's painful to think that they cried and no one was available to soothe them. That they were hungry and no one was there to feed them. That they didn't always have someone there to read them stories, "ooh" & "aah" over each little smile and triumph, and hold them close when they were lonely or scared. Don't get me wrong, the nannies and nurses at L & E's orphanage were all wonderful. There certainly didn't seem to be any willful neglect, only the neglect that occurs when there are a handful of nannies taking care of dozens of infants and toddlers. They did the best they could, of that I'm sure. But even the "best" of institutionalized care is never as good as having a loving parent/family.

On a purely selfish level, I'm sad that the door to adopting again from Ethiopia seems to be closing. The choice made for me. Although my two amazing babies keep my life VERY full right now, I had always thought that, just maybe, we might head back for #3. Now that possibility seems so slim and I'm grieving for the child that might have been a part of our family.

So, lots of talk, but what can we do? Donate to non-profits like Ethiopian Orphan Relief and help make life better for those children that will be affected by these changes the most. Click here and donate now.

Complacency

2011-03-11T12:02:00.000-08:00

Not too long ago (but long enough ago that I'm a wee bit ashamed this post was not written sooner) I attended a panel discussion on transracial adoption. Here is my big admission: I didn't want to go. I mean, I did, but it was a Saturday afternoon, the Buckeyes were playing in a really big game, kids were restless, hubs didn't want me to go either...etc. Thankfully the collective pull of my tribe forced me to change out of my stay-at-home-mom uniform, slap on some make-up, and head out the door to hear what two authors (themselves transracial adoptees) had to say.

I think a big part of my reluctance to attend was that I didn't want to hear that I wasn't doing enough as a transracial adoptive parent (and a part of me knew that's exactly what I would hear). L had been home for 3 years, B for 9 months and I was feeling happy and content with my kids and my mothering. I was right: a big part of the message I took home was that I was definitely not doing enough as a white parent to children of color. Yet I was also wrong: I expected to feel somehow shamed or scolded by the authors' message and I didn't AT ALL. Instead I left feeling inspired, motivated, and proud of the successes I have had in parenting my children of color.

Both Kevin Hoffman of Growing up In Black and White, and Rhonda Roorda of In Their Own Voices: Transracial Adoptees Tell Their Stories spoke candidly and with surprising humor of their experience as children of color in a white family. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the I-can't-believe-that-actually-happened moments. I haven't the time to write about specifics (alas, naptime is fleeting), but will just speak to the thoughts that ran through my head in the hours/days following the event.

I had become complacent. I had convinced myself that I was not only doing all the right things, but that there was little left to do. L's hair always looked great, we talk frequently of Ethiopia, she has lots of "brown" friends (L's word for people of color), and so forth. When did I become so focused on her hair? Not sure, but somewhere along the line it became the way I made myself feel like I was doing it "right." Sure I was white, but have you seen my daughter's hair??? What I realized is that while her hair may in fact help her to not stick out from other brown girls as a transracial adoptee, I had completely neglected to provide her with the tools to relate to other brown kids. What happens after the kids look each other oven and decide they all look the same. When the kids start talking about their family life and L can't relate. Doesn't understand because her family is white.

What became crystal clear to me is that surrounding L and B with other transracially adopted kids (mainly Ethiopian) is great in the sense of them having their own special community where they have friends "just like them," but it is certainly not a substitution for finding friends (their age and mine) that can help them to navigate through life as an African American. I simply cannot provide that for them. In the same way I can never help my son understand what it is to be a man, I can never give my children anecdotal advice on what it is to grow up as a person of color. I can empathize, but I cannot relate.

It sucks to realize that, as a parent, you can't provide everything your child needs. I hate the fact that I have to go outside our family to parent my kids. But this isn't about me. I came away from that weekend determined to work harder. Reevaluate often the needs of my kids as they grow older. And to never become complacent.

Happy Birthday, Papa!

2011-02-01T18:22:00.000-08:00

Because of course I didn't get my you-know-what together to get a card sent in a timely fashion, this will simply have to suffice:

After about the 10th take the lyrics really began to suffer, but the results got much cuter:

There ya have it. Happy Birthday, Papa! I hope L's singing will make up for the fact that I am completely inept at getting birthday cards out on time. We love you, can't wait to see you soon.

I'll close with one of my favorite pictures...

Discipline, rinse, repeat. repeat. repeat...

2011-01-20T10:48:00.000-08:00

Many have heard me state that one of the things I most love about my little girl is her strong and infinitely energetic personality. Unlike her mommy, L seems to have been born with this deep and endless well of confidence. She is charismatic, loud, stubborn, extremely bright (frightengly so, sometimes), outspoken, opinionated...all of these things make up the girl that I adore.

While I still say these are the parts of her that I cherish, lately I've been saying it through gritted teeth and with a face reddened by frustration. I'm sure my parents will raise their hands in the air and shout with the happiness that comes only with true justice when I say DAMN! my girl is STUBBORN and I am at the end of my wits. That's a lie. My wits are long gone.

Lately it seems that my days are filled with disciplining her in the following fashion:

"L, don't stand on the rails of the chair, sit in your chair properly."

No response from L.

"L (slightly louder), please do not stand on the chair that way, the rail is going to break."

Slight or no respose from L.

"L! Sit down!"

At this point, L may sit down temporarily, but often tries to worm her way out of obeying by talking and talking and talking about anything but what is currently transpiring. It's at this point where I usually lose it...

"L! SIT DOWN IN YOUR CHAIR RIGHT NOW OR BREAKFAST IS OVER! I'M SERIOUS, THAT FOOD WILL GO INTO THE GARBAGE!"

Yep, those capital letters mean that I'm full-on yelling. I really do hate yelling, but it seems to be the only thing that can break through the outright disobedience and general non-stop chatter that L employs to get what she wants.

I think what is the most frustrating thing is that almost nothing can happen (with regards to L) without some kind of challenge and/or debate. Getting dressed, eating, picking out a video, getting ready to go anywhere, all of these activities not only take twice as long as they should, but they become infinitely more stressful than they should because I'm constantly engaging in a massive battle of wills with a child who has a seemingly endless supply of energy and, let's say, chutzpah. She's no wallflower, my girl.

Thankfully, I am stubborn as well (who, me?), and so I am able to hold my own and make sure my little lady knows who is actually in charge here. But lordy is it freakin' exhausting. I honestly think I would faint with sheer surpise if I ever asked L to come over and get dressed and she just plain old DID. And stood still. And helped. And didn't wiggle around, grab at her animals, run away giggling half-naked to jump on the bed leaving me kneeling on the floor holding her underwear yelling at her and feeling like not only a total loser, but a complete failure as a parent.

For my part, I know that I need to perhaps choose my battles a bit more wisely. Or at least just be choosier. The more frustrated I become, the more I seem to want to punish myself by scolding L for every tiny little infraction. Each scolding is then met with more disobedience...things kinda snowball from there, you can imagine.

I don't want to take away any of her spirit. I want her to have her own opinions, make her own conclusions about her world, learn the natural consequences of her actions (within reason, of course), and become her very own person. But I also need to figure out how to disengage from this constant battle of wills. I need for her to realize that there are certain things it is simply not her place to challenge.

Ok, Mom & Dad, laugh it up. I know, I deserve it...

Baby Mine

2011-01-17T11:55:00.000-08:00

I think it's because my little man has recently given up the bottle that I've become a wee bit sentimental as of late. L was so tiny and infant-like when we brought her home, I definitely had more time to enjoy her baby-ness. E's babyhood seems to have zoomed on by and I'm still struggling to call him what he is, a toddler.

So, to indulge my weepy sentimental state, here are the lyrics to one of my most favorite lullabys - the one I sang to E all the time when we first brought him home:

Baby mine, don't you cry.

Baby mine, dry your eyes.

Rest your head close to my heart,

never to part, baby of mine.

Little one, when you play,

pay no heed what they say.

Let your eyes sparkle and shine,

never a tear, baby of mine.

If they knew all about you,

they'd end up loving you, too.

All those same people who scold you,

what they'd give just for the right to hold you.

From your hair down to your toes,

you're not much, goodness knows.

But, you're so precious to me,

sweet as can be, baby of mine.

Six months home, Christmas, and other miscellany...

2011-01-04T11:19:00.000-08:00

It's been so very long since I've posted, so much to talk about! But I must begin with our Christmas triumph. About two years ago, my darling girl lost this random plastic dinosaur she had named "Wheezie" (after the dragon on Dragon Tales). Seriously, this thing was lost a LONG time ago. Unfortunately, Lila has a freakishly good memory, and thus she has never given up hope that Wheezie might someday return. My memory not being so great, all I could remember was that my mom had gotten "Wheezie" at the local Walmart and I vaguely recalled that it had something to do with Dora. Thankfully, Wheezie came in a package with two other dinosaurs that hadn't been lost, so my most amazing and resourceful hubby was able to track it down using some serious internet cunning and the stamped product number on the other dinosaur's foot! To be honest, I pride myself in my researching capabilities, so I was a bit jealous that I was not the one to find the treasure online, but I digress...

Lila had no clue. Here is her reaction opening up her beloved "Wheezie"...

Every time I think of her reaction I giggle. It was priceless. Also one of those rare moments where you truly manage to get exactly what your kid wants for Christmas.

I will admit that a rather big event went rather unobserved in this house due to the overall holiday chaos. My little man celebrate 6 months home on December 14th. Most of the time I absolutely cannot believe it's only been a mere 6 months, he is so very much an integral part of this family: it simply wouldn't work without him.

At 16 months he is now walking and making quick progress on running (Lord help me). He is quick to laugh and quick to cry...full of emotion is my little guy. Not to be outdone by his very ~~dramatic~~ expressive big sister, Elijah can put on quite a production when he doesn't get his way. He says "Mama," "Dada," "Bubba" (the dog), and "Ball." He also postively lights up when you say the word "snack." I've actually witnessed him tremble with anticipation and excitement at mealtime, hence his Lila-given nickname, "Snacks." He still prefers to be held and cuddled most of the time, mainly by me (you should see my biceps). He is definitely a mama's boy, through and through, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

The way my kids play together frequently fills my heart to the bursting point. Sure, we have our fair share of sibling rivalry and drama, but on the whole I think it's pretty clear that my kids adore each other. Lila has taken to big sisterhood with a joy and energy only she could posses. The other day Elijah was heading for the stairs and I asked her to please hold him off so I could walk over and shut the gate. From the end of the hallway I watched my daughter FULL BODY TACKLE my son at the foot of the stairs. Such was her fear that Elijah might climb the stairs and get hurt. Quite the mother hen, she is. Now we just need to work on using a slightly gentler approach...

But the love is there. Behold...

Words cannot even begin to describe how thankful I am that he is my son. As I sit here typing my eyes fill thinking about how scary and chaotic the first few months of his life must have been. How strong he must be to have survived and grown to become the amazing toddler he is today. I think of a newborn baby boy left behind a bush in the cold Ethiopian night and I can barely stand it, my heart aches that I cannot take away that part of his story. I also think (with a gratitude I will never be able to fully express) of the nannies, nurses, and doctors at the orphanage who clearly doted on my little boy. One of the doctors had nicknamed him "September," because she thought he was just so sparkly and bright. I am beyond joyful that he came to be mine. I get to walk into his room each morning and see him smile and say "Mama," stretching his arms out to me. I have the privilege of being his mommy, and knowing there is a woman out there who made the impossibly difficult decision to let him go, I will never take my job as his mother for granted.

I don't think I have any set New Year's Resolutions. Perhaps set aside a bit more time to sew? The hubby very much thinks I should open up my own Etsy shop, but I'm still skeptical that anyone would actually pay money for the things I make. I mean, Lila liked her Christmas dress and all, but would she buy it? Not so sure...

Reminder of what's important

2010-12-08T04:02:00.000-08:00

It's definitely been a rough couple of weeks for our little family. The combination of incredibly bad timing and incredibly bad luck have combined to create the perfect storm of stress. The fact that this is happening during the holiday season seems to make it all the harder. No need for specifics, but I will say that it is taking LOADS of will to keep my holiday spirit in full force. Thankfully, I was blessed with copious amounts of stubbornness, and I absolutely refuse for this holiday to be anything but magical for my two little angels.

The thing about any kind of crisis, though, is that it provides one with an opportunity to focus on the good. Now, I come from a looooong line of pessimists, but even I have been focusing more and more on all of the blessings in my life. Instead of wallowing in all of the shitty things that have happened as of late, I choose to remind myself (daily, hourly, every damn second if I have to) of all the ways I am the luckiest gal in all the world. A short TOP FIVE (certainly not comprehensive) list:

1. The past few weeks my marriage has felt stronger than ever. I have the greatest husband on the planet...everything he does is for our family. He is my hero.

2. My kiddos. Not sure I can say more than that. They are, without a doubt, the single most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I love them more than I ever thought possible. They give me thousands of reasons thank my lucky stars every day.

3. I am blessed to be able to stay home with said kiddos. My days are filled with laughter, hugs, hilarious comments, songs..etc. Yesterday Lila played for several hours wearing nothing but a pair of binoculars around her neck. Classic.

4. My house/neighborhood. I love my house and I love where we live. Every time we hit the community center my kids are greeted by name by lots of the staff. It really is this amazing home-away-from-home where I can get an hour to myself and my kids can get showered with attention by the amazing people in the babysitting room. Win-win.

5. I have the best family. Ever. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am SO THANKFUL we moved back home to be closer to family. Because of my amazing and tireless mom-in-law, I was recently able to go to a sewing class and keep an eye appointment...neither of these things would have been possible without her help. Last week when our car trouble began, my brother lent us the use of his car without blinking. Didn't give it one thought. I am surrounded by the best of the best and remind myself of that every day.

Writing this post reminds me that I am so blessed and lucky. No more wallowing for this girl.

Back in the Saddle Again

2010-12-01T04:00:00.000-08:00

For over a month I've been walking past my dark and lonely sewing machine. I think the business of preparing for the holidays coupled with an unexpected lack of inspiration made for a sad little sewing hiatus. But no more! The temps today are supposed to start out in the 20's, so I knew I had to get crackin' on the satin-lined hat I'd always wanted to make for Lila. Not even naps ruin her curls more than a short bout in an unlined hat. Last winter I even had mini-debates in my head as to whether it was really cold enough to warrent a hat...perhaps Lila could just go without and thus save the hairstyle I spent hours creating??? I'm not proud of having had those thoughts, but there it is. I spent a significant amount of time on Lila's hair and it's soul-crushing to see all of my efforts thwarted by a tiny fleece hat.

My first attempt turned out lovely, but too small for my girl. Thankfully, Elijah volunteered to model for me! Isn't he such an agreeable boy?

Tear your eyes away from that gorgeous face to notice the lovely satin lining!

Of course, nobody deserves dino spikes more than my girl.

I did make another, larger version for Lila last night. I hope to get some pics after she wakes up this morning...stay tuned!

Thanksgiving was busy but family-filled, which is just how I like it. Auntie Steph & Uncle John braved the crappy weather to come and run the Flying Feather Four Miler with me on Thanksgiving morning. The most exciting part, though, was Lila running her very first race ever! I ran with her and coached her through her mid-race wall as she exclaimed, "Mommy, I'm exhausted!"

My cousin was in town meeting his new in-laws and we were thrilled that he, his wife and son were able to come over on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Lila followed the two older boys around all evening, thankfully not really understanding that they were desperately trying to avoid her. Nothing is less cool to a 6 and 8-year-old boy than a very excited 3-year-old girl.

Lila requested that I take a picture of her sad face. Awwwww.

Thankfully, she recovered quickly.

Elijah discovered the broom!

Lordy, that face! Those eyes! The drool! Yep, teething is still in full effect.

I was thankful for so much this Thanksgiving, it's hard to put it all into words. There was one moment where my house was completely filled with family, everyong was talking, laughing, eating, kids running around screaming and having fun...my heart was (and still is) full of happiness and gratitude.

She was Born to Run

2010-11-23T17:08:00.000-08:00

We spent the past weekend in Philadelphia watching Auntie Steph run the marathon. Although I know she was disappointed to be struck with an injury in mile 21, I hope she takes some comfort in knowing that we are all so insanely proud of her. Both Kevin and I were trying very hard to fight back tears as we watched her run past at mile 18 & 20. I was just completely in awe. She had every reason in the world to not run this marathon, yet she drew on what must be a very deep well of inner strength and DID IT.

We love you and are soooooo proud of you, Auntie Steph!

Playground politics

2010-11-09T17:55:00.000-08:00

I've come to dread the playground. Not all playgrounds, mind you, just one. A couple of weeks ago after picking up Lila at school, we hit the playground next to the school to kill some time before dinner. As I watched Lila play from a distance, I noticed a group of little girls playing nearby. Although they were most likely only 4, they created a very clear and obvious clique with a VERY clear leader. I watched as Lila, in her typical bold fashion, approached the girls and began to talk to the girls. I wasn't close enough to hear everything, but I did hear the leader declare: "I don't know who you are!" A few minutes later Lila turned and walked towards me saying, "Mommy, they told me to go away." Worst of all, she continued walking and sat down by herself on a bench. I went to talk to her about what had happened and she said something that absolutely broke my heart: "Mommy, they don't like me."

I had to restrain myself from saying a few choice words about the girls who had treated my baby so rudely, instead saying something to the effect of the girls didn't know who she was, they were older, and they perhaps weren't even very nice and thus Lila shouldn't spend her time worrying about them...yada yada yada. Let's just say it has been thoroughly discussed.

Well, we went back to the playground today and those same girls were holding court. The first words out of Lila's mouth as we approached the playground? "Mommy, there are those girls that were mean to me." She was afraid of them and for the first time, timid. She hung close to me on the playground, often playing by herself. Several times I encouraged her to approach other kids, this time introducing herself and asking if she could play rather than simply walking up and talking about something completely random (which is her habit). At one point she actually did go up to the "mean girls" and ask them if she could play with them. I held my breath and watched as they simply ignored her and ran off. I guess I should have been relieved they weren't overtly mean, but it was still really hard to watch.

I don't want to be a helicopter parent. I really don't. And I also don't want to put all of my insecurities on my child. I was and continue to be a very shy person. Even passing strangers in a hallway makes me uncomfortable. Do I say something? Make eye contact? Almost all of my friends have admitted that when they first met me, they thought I was a bit on the frosty side. Or that I didn't like them, was mean, pissed...etc.

What broke my heart today was seeing Lila's usual confidence and personality dampened by the rejection of these three little girls. I know I can't protect her all of the time, but I simply cannot stand the thought of Lila losing that amazing part of herself. She loves talking to people, always has. Today she was made a bit quieter by playground (and let's face it, girl) politics and it just made me so very sad. But I will fight the urge to hover as much as I possibly can because I do NOT want her to inherit my shyness because making a friend out of every stranger is my Lila's bread & butter.

Not even political ads can dampen this fall fun!

2010-11-01T18:17:00.000-07:00

I doubt the ads are worse than any other election year...I think I just get grumpier with each passing year. I am literally counting down the hours until I can sit down, watch a program and not be inundated with "if you vote for so-and-so babies will cry due to the crushing debt they will have by simply being born, senior citizens will scowl disapprovingly, and families will sit around the kitchen table shaking their heads with disgust."

Instead, I choose to enjoy the Autumn with the most adorable of children. Some pictures:

Pumpkin carving fun! Please excuse my crazy-eyes...

My poor baby. She was sicky-sick-sick all weekend.

Lila's school had a Halloween parade and I was expecting all kinds of cute. I'm not gonna lie to you, it was more creepy than anything. An eerily quiet forced march of sorts. Didn't anyone think that perhaps a little music might perk things up a bit? Some kids enjoyed it, but most had a rather bewildered look on their faces as they slooooowly and silently marched around the room surrounded by strangers with cameras. Lila, of course, does not suffer from shyness, so she had a blast as usual:

Lila and one of her most favorite classmates.

Last but not least...Halloween!!! I can't tell you how happy it makes me when my babies are surrounded by family. Mimi, Papa, Ya ya, Uncle John & Miss Stephanie were all there to escort my little tiger around town. Not even a bloody lip could stop Lila from scaring the locals with her mighty roar.

The holiday season is officially upon us! My head is filled with lofty plans of holiday crafting. Stay tuned...

The Eye of the Tiger

2010-10-16T04:04:00.000-07:00

She was a lion last year (neighbors are still shaking in their boots from her terrible roar). This year she will terrorize the community as a TERRIBLE TIGER!!

practicing her ROAR on her brother

We headed out to the local Halloween Trail last night. So much fun, it reinforced why I love where we live. There were lots of familiar faces from the Parks & Recreation department, many who came over to admire Lila & Elijah's costumes.

Elijah was a black & white puppy (it's a hand-me-down, I won't tell him if you won't). At first he seemed thrilled with his costume:

Once the hat was donned, things started to turn ugly:

After 45 minutes of games and great costume-watching, his mood had lifted and we were graced with that beautiful smile again:

There was an adult-sized Lion there to represent the Lions club, or something like that. Lila was FASCINATED. She decided that the two great hunters of the jungle should meet:

Totally unrelated, but I'd like to recognize my amazing hubby. Our backyard patio was a disaster. Kind of bean-shaped, it had another bean-shaped hole in the middle that once had a tree, but was now just a big pile of dirt. The roots from the felled tree had lifted up massive portions of the patio, making it unsafe for little feet. It was also just a huge patio, leaving very little actual yard in the back.

So, hubby dearest redesigned the patio, demolished the old one, and installed a new one using the old bricks. Behold:

Isnt' it gorgeous? Wonderful design, and flat as can be, allowing for our wee ones to play without fear of tripping. See all the dirt area? That will be lovely green grass!!! Cannot wait. How amazing is my husband?!

You've got to know when to fold 'em

2010-10-12T18:20:00.000-07:00

I'm about there. Perhaps I'm being hard on myself (it certainly wouldn't be the first time and definitely won't be the last). I'm embarrassed to admit how often a 3-year-old can get me totally unglued. Terrible two's?? Puh-leeze. That's amateur hour. Three-year-olds are just as defiant as two-year-olds, but they do it with AT-TI-TUDE. Door slamming, arm crossing, glaring, pouting, yelling, stomping attitude.

Each day I pledge to NOT lose my cool. No yelling, no losing my temper, no random "beacuse I said so's!!". That pledge usually goes down the crapper by 9am. One child takes a toy from the other, that child screams, the first child yells at the second child to stop crying...I think you get the picture.

All I want is to get through just one day with a wee bit of grace. Maybe tomorrow?

One of the most amazing things about motherhood? The lovely moments always happen just when I am about to throw in the towel and pour myself a big 'ol glass of red. Like when I found a beautiful leaf for Lila's collection this afternoon and she hugged me crying, "Oh, thank you, Mommy!" Or when I picked up Elijah at the Community Center babysitting room. He saw me and proceeded to crawl (giggling) all the way across the room. I may have lost my temper today, but my babies still love me.

What falls in the fall...

2010-10-03T04:16:00.000-07:00

I do love the fall. I love football season, the smell of the leaves, the crispiness of the air, apple picking, pumpkin carving, and the anticipation of all the holidays on the horizon! Now that I have two adorable wee ones, this season is infinitely sweeter. Watching Lila prowl around her in Halloween costume is priceless (pictures forthcoming, I promise). Her excitement is palpable. All car rides are now peppered with "Mommy! I see red leaves! Mommy! I see orange leaves!" Perhaps Elijah is a bit too young to understand, but that doesn't damper my happiness at seeing him experience his first Halloween with his family.

The perfect start to celebrate the harvest? Pumpkin patches!

I think this smile is 100% Lila.

She won this herself! Threw a ball and hit a flying pumpkin!

Hee.

Lila & Mimi look for the Queen Bee.

Maybe you'll be big enough next year, Doodlebug.

That's more like it!

Look at those curls bounce...

Inspecting a possible pumpkin with Mimi.

Lila with her loot!

This place was amazing. Check it out!

Eli was in the carrier so I realized there were no pics of my beautiful boy! This must be remedied...

Those eyes.

Look out, he's on the move! Seriously, this boy gets into everything.

What? I like mac & cheese.

A simple game of peek-a-boo was all it took...

2010-09-16T19:32:00.000-07:00

...to lift me out of this funk. Seriously, it's been a rough couple of days. I've been totally outnumbered by my two little ~~devils~~ angels as of late. And they don't fight fair. Nope, these wee ones fight dirty. They fight with crocodile tears, trembling lips, outstretched arms, shrieks that would curl your hair, and endless whining. Did I mention the whining? I did? Well, it bears repeating.

Yesterday, when I was at the end of my rope, ready to give up and have the sob-fest I so rightly deserved, my babies provided me with this moment of pure joy:

Can you see how much they love each other? I can. It makes my heart go pitty-pat.

My new sewing blog!

2010-09-13T19:10:00.000-07:00

I actually created my sewing blog a week or two ago, but finally had some time to write a post this morning! Check it out here!

A week of milestones...

2010-09-09T17:12:00.000-07:00

My little girl finished her first week of preschool. Dropping her off that first day was absolute chaos, and I'm embarassed to admit that I cried the whole drive home. I will clarify, however, that said crying was partly due to the fact that, because of a little boy's desperate attempt to escape the classroom, I was only able to say a weak "goodbye" to the back of Lila's head before she was wisked inside and the door was promply shut in my face. The second day of school went without a hitch. And I was even able to give her a kiss goodbye before she headed off to grow grow that big 'ol brain of hers. But you really want to see pictures, right? Behold...

I did her hair in some twists. So easy, but looks so lovely, especially with pink ballies!

One of my most favorite dresses that I've made for Lila. I was thrilled that the day was warm enough for her to go sleeveless and wear this dress.

Seriously, she was beyond excited.

Kevin picked her up and took a photo as she ran out of the classroom to greet him.

Obligatory photo outside the school. Why she is doing the Captain Morgan Rum pose is beyond me. When we saw the picture both Kevin and I blurted, "Got a little Captain in you?"

Other news? Elijah turned 1!!! He decided to commemorate his first year on earth by crawling and pulling up for the first time all in one day. We had a wonderful family-only party...pizza, cupcakes, and lots of cousins made for an amazing day. Some highlights:

His #1 t-shirt made by yours truly. For a last-minute project, I was pretty happy with the end result...UNTIL I noticed a hole in the back of the shirt. So I added a wee something to the back to cover it up:

I know I'm biased, but aren't my kids beautiful??

One of the few moments Elijah has actually had on his new ride-along. Lila has decided she's a much better fit.

I made Magnolia cupcakes. I think he approved.

Clearly being cute & adored is exhausting.

The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round...

2010-08-31T11:47:00.000-07:00

Ok, so Lila won't technically be taking the bus, but my little girl is starting preschool next week. It's surreal in so many ways. First, I simply am having a hard time seeing Lila as the little girl she so clearly has become. No more baby fat, no more diapers, no more comforting her during night feedings, no more carting her around on my hip. Oddly enough, it all hit home when I went to get her new shoes. She had gone up from a size 8 to a size 9. The visual difference in the shoe floored me. Add to that she now gets to choose from an entirely different wall of shoes...I was a mess. And I felt a little silly for spending 20 minutes purusing the shoes on the baby/toddler wall. Can we say denial?

I realize I've been absolutely horrid at posting lately. My only free time to do much of anything is during the afternoon nap (going on as I type) and after the kids go to bed. How to use this precious time is not easy. Do I sew? Blog? Read a book? Watch TV? Take a shower? Eat? CLEAN??!! So, I'm working on balancing this all a bit better.

The summer has flown by about as quickly as this naptime. Elijah is growing and growing and growing. Seriously, he's HUGE. Definitely over 20 pounds, and my mother-in-law is betting on 25lbs. Yikes. No wonder it often feels as though my left bicep is just going to explode after a day of carrying him around. We're a bit concerned that he's not even crawling yet, but in every other way he's magnificent. Smiley, happy, great sense of humor, snuggly (my favorite), loves to clap and raise his arms up in the air to the question, "How big is Elijah?" He is a mama's boy through and through, which is just fine with me.

Pictures!

One of our last outings as a family of three...

Aren't those pictures lovely? Taken my my friend, Alta. She always manages to capture on film exactly how I feel about my babies.

Adventures in sewing

2010-08-12T16:32:00.000-07:00

I've finally taken some pics of the dresses I've recently made for Lila. Alas, Lila is not the most cooperative of models. I managed only to capture her in one dress before I decided that what had started out as a lovely day was quickly deteriorating with each click of the camera.

I'm sorry, but isn't she just gorgeous?? And then she insisted on wearing the Indians cap...

Here is where things started going downhill. Can you tell?

Close-up of the Oliver & S dress. Love love love the fabric!

Notice the contrasting hem!

This was actually made a while ago, but is the same pattern as above. Who knew there was a oh-so-girlie safari print out there!

Adorable contrasting hem. I'm thinking I might have that on the outside next time.

This is the "All-Ages Classic Jumper" from the One Yard Wonders book. After a little online research, I was relieved to find out that I wasn't the only one completely baffled by the directions for the back of the dress. After a ridiculous amount of mistakes (thankfully, my cheapness meant I subbornly kept at it as I had no intention of wasting this adorable fabric from Sew to Speak) it all finally came together. I definitely want to make this in some fall/winter fabrics (corduroy, for sure), but need to think on how to figure out the back & straps part of the pattern.

I was going to post some more pictures and talk about our week, but I've literally been working on thist post on-and-off for about 5 hours now. I'm going to celebrate the fact that I actually finished a post (with pictures!) and stop while I'm ahead. Hmmm, I just noticed that Lila is watching TV in a tank top and nothing else. Probably should get on that...

Things I finally completed...

2010-08-03T17:39:00.000-07:00

It's a rare thing these days to be able to set out to do something and actually DO IT. So, I will trumpet from the rooftops my recent accomplishments:

1. I finally did Lila's entire head in cornrows. Ok, so it took me 4 days (as I was limited to Elijah's morning nap), but it looked fabulous, if I do say so myself. Pictures are coming, I promise. Lila was very very pleased with her braids and beads. As a surprising bonus, I could hear her coming the few times she woke up in the middle of the night and wandered into our room.

2. I finished two dresses for Lila!! Both involved buttons and I had been decidedly avoiding those little finishing details. I still don't have much of a system to correctly place the buttons and button holes, although I'm sure Kevin will be able to come up with a very precise step-by-step "how-to" (the joys of having a patient engineer hubby). The dresses are both riddled with errors, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one that sees them. That being said, even I can say that the dresses are just freakin' cute. Love them. Can't wait to make both patterns in fall fabrics for Lila's first year of preschool! Again, pictures coming.

We had a great couple of days with the most fabulous Miss Alta, Mr Drake & Baby R. As if Lila wasn't already half in love, she was completely sunk (pardon the pun) when Mr Drake played a version of hide & seek in the lake. Baby R's gigantic smiles and attempted fist-eating started each morning off on the perfect note.

Best news ever? My most favorite mamas-to-be jetted off to Ethiopia, met their darling boys, and PASSED COURT!!!! Woo hoo! Congrats Em & Damon, Amy & Joel! Cannot wait to meet your beautiful baby boys.

Tooth Fairies, Santa, Easter Bunnies, and Perfect Moms...

2010-07-27T11:36:00.000-07:00

This morning was one of those mornings. I had sent Lila to her room for spitting (isn't that lovely?). She obediantly went to her room and proceeded to HOWL. Meanwhile, Elijah needed to be dressed. Unfortunately, this is no easy task at the moment. My sweet and amiable little man has been taken over by the demon I like to call MR. TOOTH. His two top teeth are bursting through his poor little gums, resulting in a loud and cranky Elijah I have nicknamed "Sir Whines-A-Lot." Kevin says this nickname is perhaps a wee bit mean-spirited, but it makes me giggle, which is much better than the alternative - heaving sobs of frustration and desperation.

But back to this morning. As Lila continued screaming in her bedroom, Elijah fought getting dressed with every fiber of his being. He assumes his demands are reasonable: he must be held 24/7, I must be standing whilst holding him, and he must be facing me at all times. Sadly, as I was cramming a shirt over his head, I was not meeting all of his requirements. Thus, Elijah began to scream as well. In order to avoid my own scream-fest, I plopped Elijah in his crib (his screams then took on a whole new level of loudness), went into the bathroom, turned on the fan and just sat for a while.

I felt like I must be the WORST mother in the world. I was unhappy, and clearly both of my kids were unhappy. Then I started thinking about why I thought I was such a shitty mom. Was it because my kids were crying? Because I wanted to do a little crying myself? Because I had lost my temper for the millionth time and it was only 8am? Where had my subconscious picked up this notion that perfect moms had children who were perpetually blissfully happy, well-behaved, kind, loving, obediant, quiet...etc.? Somewhere along the way I unknowingly created this utopia of motherhood. This blissful ideal for which I so desperately strived, but failed to achieve each and every day. Why on earth have I been setting myself up like this?

These thoughs are nothing new to me. My habits as a perfectionist served me well all through college, grad school and post-grad. Parenting, however, is quite a different beast. I frequently think of the episode of "The Simpsons" where the teachers go on strike and a very strung-out Lisa turned to her mother and screamed, "Evaluate me!!!!" I have to remind myself (and should do a better job with the reminding, for sure) that the ways you know you are doing a good job at parenting are subtle and elusive. But they are there. Elijah is eating like a champ, sleeping like a log, and practically wiggles out of his diaper with happiness everytime I enter a room. Good job, me! Lila tells me she loves me many times a day, her hair looks awesome (if I do say so myself), she loves the clothes I make her and proudly tells anyone who will listen that Mommy made her dress, and she's the smartest, funniest toddler I've ever had the pleasure to know. I know I had a hand in all of these wonderful things.

Not that there isn't room for improvement. So, my plan is to attempt the following:

Cut down on the yelling. It generally doesn't work anyway, stresses me out, and I simply hate yelling.

Be more patient. I know those of you that know me best are rolling your eyes and chuckling to yourselves. I most often lose my temper over the Lila's dawdling. Lordy can that girl dawdle. The most annoying is her habit of stopping cold in a doorway. I am often stuck standing behind her on my way in or out, waiting for her to address whatever it is that caught her attention. But in the grand scheme of things, this is sooooo not worth losing my cool. So, I hope to simply allow more time, let Lila explore and be a toddler. Take a deep breath and just stand there in the doorway so she can check out the ant that just crawled across her path.

Pick my battles. I am a stubborn person, and while that also serves me well in certain areas of my life, it can really backfire when applied to parenting. I get into a mode where every little infraction MUST be transformed into a teachable moment. A valuable lesson learned. Frankly, this just puts waaaaay too much pressure on me and my role as a disciplinarian. I am strict and don't apologize for it, but I also realize that I could stand to let some of the little things go. Like I did when the following happened last week:

I was alone with the kiddos, having a nice afternoon lounging in a pool in the backyard. Suddenly, my dog just went bonkers on my parents' dog, Lucy. I bounded over to break up the fight. It was absolute chaos. I'm pretty sure the workmen across the lake were doubled over laughing at the scene. Molly was circling Lucy, barking and biting. Tanner was circling both of them, barking and biting. I was circling the whole bunch, holding a baby, soaking wet in my bikini, screaming and trying to get close enough to break up the fight without getting bitten. I finally got Molly away and was scolding her when I hear, "Mommy! I POOOOOOOPED!" Yep, Lila had pooped in the yard. Even in my frazzled state I knew it was funny.

So, if I can handle dog fights, yard poop and the like, I can handle anything, right?

Some pictures...'cause I'm too lazy to think of a post

2010-07-20T17:44:00.000-07:00

I do plan on writing more on our trip to Ethiopia, I promise. I am, however, waaaay too tired this evening to do much more than comment on some pictures. Honestly, I'm pretty impressed with myself for actually transferring the pictures to the computer. So there.

Uncle Jerry followed through on his promise to take Lila fishing! They caught some tadpoles in the stream at Ya Ya & Grandpa's house. Lila was ecstatic.

A few weeks ago the kids and I made a trek to Mimi & Papa's house. This was Elijah's first visit and I can say with certainty that it was a smashing success. Elijah loved having his Mimi & Papa all week, loved the dogs, lake, beach and pool. I loved staying in "the cave." The two bedrooms in the basement have no windows and are cool, dark and absolutely divine for sleeping. My kids have never slept so well. It was glorious. Here are some pictures from that visit:

Elijah's first romp in the pool!

Lila is rethinking her decision to ignore Mommy's advice and drink the lake water anyway.

Elijah's first day at the beach! No sand eating, I was thrilled.

She likes him! She really likes him!

He's taking to sucking on my chin. I'm pretty sure it's a teething thing...gross, but cute.

I hate that this picture is blurry...but I love it so very much.

One month in...

2010-07-14T18:05:00.000-07:00

We've been home exactly one month. It's such a surreal thing, this feeling that time is moving slowly and quickly at the same time. A part of me cannot believe a month has passed...it seems like yesterday that we were heading to the Columbus airport. Yet it seems as though Elijah has been here forever. My anxiety ran its course pretty darn quickly, and it didn't take very long to ease into my new life as a mama of 2. Don't get me wrong, it's still crazy HARD, but not nearly as overwhelming as it once felt. I love him more and more each day...he is such an amazing little man. He has smiles only for me, I'm convinced. I love when he finishes a bottle (and this happens every time) and looks up at me giving me this adorable, milky grin. The boy does love his food. He claps when asked, and raises his little chubby arms into the air when asked, "How big is Elijah?" No crawling yet, but he's a champ with finger food (really, check out the size of his tummy...was this really a surprise?). He loves his big sister and his dog. When Lila dances he squeals with happiness. And when I get him in the morning and after naps, he smiles and giggles with glee. So first, some gratuitous pics of my boy:

Elijah and Mama at the YGF hotel.

Who is that good lookin' boy?

I thought I'd write a bit about our trip. I'm still processing everything (it really is just hard to take a moment and mentally go through everything when I'm constantly in the moment dealing with two very active darlings). But here is a part of our trip that was, aside from actually meeting Elijah, the most poignant and important to our family. On Monday we traveled to the city of Meki, where Elijah was found. It was an easy 2-hour drive (piece of cake compared to the 10-hour off-roading we did to get to Robe in 2007) and we first went to the SOS Enfants Ethiopie intake orphanage to see where our son spent his first days and months.

Above you'll see the sign for the orphanage and a picture of the nannies, nurses & children in the Meki intake center. The nannies remembered Elijah well, and began telling our driver the story of how he was found. Sadly, much seemed to be lost in translation. Our driver's English was limited, and so all we could understand at that point was something about a local beer house (he kept repeating this, as if with each repetition we would finally understand him), the mother at the local beer house, and then she was gone and a baby was there. One of the nannies suggested we talk with the police, so she hopped into our car and we hit the police station. I wish we had a picture of this part, because Kevin and I were standing outside the police station with about 6 police officers (5 of whom were simply there to stare at us) and at least 50 people just slowly gathering around us, staring, smiling, listening...it was creepy, being watched like that. From the police officer's story, we then heard again about the local beer house, and then something about the mother asking to use the toilet and never coming back (again leaving the baby at the local beer house). The police officer couldn't be sure, so he also hopped into our car and we went off in search of this infamous local beer house. Long story short (too late, I know), we met the woman you see below. She found our son.

From her we finally heard the full story of how Elijah was found. Below is a picture of her house. To the left there is a bush of sorts, and to the left of the bush is an outhouse. The woman left her house to use the outhouse and found Elijah under the bush up against a fence.

Below is the picture of exactly where Elijah was found. I still don't really have words yet. I simply cannot imagine how terrified Elijah was. Alone, outside, hungry...it's almost impossible to comprehend. All I can do at this point is love him as much as I possibly can. Spend each day convincing and showing him that he's safe and loved with me. He will never be hungry, lonely, neglected, or terrified again.

We heard the hardest part of this story a few days later when we had another person with much better English translate the story from our driver. Apparently the old woman who found Elijah believes that his birth mother meant to drop him into the outhouse, but because it was locked, he was then left under the bush. I still don't know what to do with this information. Not one clue. A very big part of me wishes I had never heard this part of the story. I remember seeing Elijah the next day and being overwhelmed by the notion that his presence on this earth and in my life might have been dictated by a simple lock on an outhouse. I will thank God every day of my life for that lock.

Pictures, finally!

2010-06-29T17:41:00.000-07:00

This was the first time I met Elijah. They had woken him up just before handing him to me and he was not happy, to say the least. Poor thing was tired, confused, and scared. But he held on tight and snuggled into me, and after a short while, his true personality started to come out. Lots of smiles and profound statements of "Ga!"

Beautiful boy! And check out those teeth!

It is about as hard to get a good picture of both children as it is to get both kids to nap at the same time.

We love tubby time!

Lila & Elijah playing a rousing game of Candy Land.

I have no words...I love them so.

That is Elijah in a nutshell. His smile and laugh are a constant and wonderful part of every day. He just learned how to clap the other day and was beside himeself with happiness!

2010-06-19T12:02:00.000-07:00

There's my boy, full of smiles. He really is such a smiley baby, very ticklish and easy to laugh. It's amazing, really, when I consider all that he's endured in the past week. Whenever I start feeling wrapped up in my own anxiety I remind myself to think for a moment of how Elijah must be reeling at the massive changes that have ocurred.

No wonder he's clingy and anxious. He flew over several time zones, spent time in loud and bright airports, and was then delivered home with loud dogs, an even louder sister, and a house full of new sights, smells, and sounds. Whenever he gets super-clingy and every fiber of my being just wants to pull away, I simply go to him, pick him up, and tickle him on his tummy.

There are (and I'm sure will be) moments of "faking it," to be sure, but that is part of the process, I think. Until I can wrap my mind and body around a new life with 2 children, there just isn't enough left of me to truly enjoy it yet. I so wish that were not the case, but I think this is just how I operate. In the meantime, Elijah is loved, fed, cared for, tickled, played with, and doted on by his mommy...even if she still feels like opening the front door and just running sometimes.

Kevin goes back to work on Monday and my life as a mommy of 2 really will begin. Yikes. I'm scared, still with such annoying physical symptoms of anxiety I could scream sometimes, but I know I'll get through it and each week it will get better and better. My appetite will come back, I'll find a routine that keeps both me and the kids occupied and happy, and Elijah will continue to blend into our family.

Until then, I am going to continue to smile at my kids, play with them, ignore my mess of a house, savor naps and meals...there may be many times in the near future when I'm faking it, but thankfully my kiddos will just know that I'm there smiling at them with love in my eyes.

Getting through each day

2010-06-17T07:51:00.000-07:00

Well, we're finally back home from Ethiopia with our new son, Elijah Pagume Grandey. He is beautiful. Truly a gorgeous child. Anywhere we went in Ethiopia, his cheeks were constantly pinched to a chorus of conjo, which means "beautiful" in Amharic. After a somewhat rock start, he bonded pretty quickly with us...me especially. When he was in our care in Ethiopia he was smiley, happy, active, talkative, and slept like a champ.

Somewhere over the Atlantic, he became VERY attached to me, and basically would only let Kevin hold him for short stretches at a time. Made for a very tired Mommy by the end of our 48+ hour journey home (seriously, longest trip ever).

Now that we're home, things are running about as smoothly as they could, considering the upheaval. Lila is having a rough time of it, for sure. She's a bit weepier, a bit more defiant, pushing boundaries, clinging to me, and has on some occasions, shown outright animosity to Elijah. But I know these things are normal, and they will get better. But it is hard watching my little girl struggle with emotions she can't quite articulate or even understand.

As for me, I'm just making a point of getting through each day and trying very very very hard not to look much farther than that. I'll admit that, because of the great bonding that happened in Ethiopia, I was perhaps a bit overconfidant in how I would adjust to parenting 2 kiddos. So far, it's been hard. More than anything, I'm disappointed that I'm feeling this old anxiety again. At least this time I know that it's temporary - but still so annoying! That rush of adrenaline, the cold feeling in your stomach and legs...it happens to me more times during the day than I care to admit. I wish in vain that I were one of those go-with-the-flow mommies who just take to new motherhood with smiles and relaxed ease. But I'm not. Dammit.

It was harder than I thought to go from parenting a fairly independent three year-old to now having a very clingy, very high-need infant. He wants me all the time. He wants me to hold him all the time. He wants me to hold him while standing and walking around all the time.

I find myself asking the same questions I did when we brought Lila home: what the hell do you do with a 9 month-old all day long??? Especially when they aren't content to play in an exersaucer, jumparoo, playmat...etc. I am standing there holding him, checking out the clock and saying, now what? How do I get through the next couple of hours? Friends and family have been so great, offering to take Lila for the day...but honestly without her giving me concrete things to do, I think I might be climbing the walls a lot more than I am.

The good news: I've been through this all before and it was WAAAAYYYY worse. So much worse and I got through it. It did get better and better and one day it was so good I wanted to adopt again! And here we are. I definitely feel more of a connection with Elijah than I did early on with Lila...weird to compare the two like that, but it has been a different experience in terms of attachment on my part. I think the bulk of my anxiety simply has to do with having my routine just thrown out the window. Refiguring out how to do everything just plain old sucks. But it will all fall into place, this I know. And this time around I have good weather, amazing friends, family all around me, and a gorgeous little girl to keep me company and keep me focused on just being a mommy.

Other good news: he's a champion sleeper and eater!!! Two major battles I had with Lila that I don't have to do again!

Warning for future posts: I predict that many of my posts in the near future are going to be a kind of "therapy" for me, so I apologize for the total lack of wit, humor & charming anecdotes!

If I Had a Million Dollars...

2010-05-28T04:01:00.000-07:00

...I would do lots of things, the first of which would be to purchase this shirt:

It's from J.Crew and is called the "Lem Lem Tiru Tunic." How lovely is that? Makes me think of the lovely Miss Tiru. Sigh.

Adventures in Sewing or...

2010-05-27T04:12:00.000-07:00

What I'm currently doing to keep my mind occupied and not focused on the fact that I am soon leaving my little girl for 10 days!!! Yes, I'm leaving for a wonderful amazing reason, but it doesn't make it any easier. Thankfully, sewing is great fun and requires enough focus that I can keep the tears at bay. Here are my latest two projects:

And some gratuitous pics of my two beautiful children:

What I need to remember this time around...

2010-05-21T18:36:00.000-07:00

We leave for Ethiopia in 2 weeks. I can barely wrap my mind around that simple fact. People keep asking me if I'm ready and I honestly don't know how to respond. Does anyone really know if they are ready to bring home another baby? The nursery is ready, or at least decorated in the most adorable fashion (see previous post). But to truly picture my life as a mommy of 2? It's kind of fuzzy at the moment. Perhaps that's for the best ;)

I've been watching a lot of videos from Lila's first year home. I haven't seen them in some time - most days I'm so wrapped up in the present, I forget to take some time and check out the past. But I'm so glad I did. Looking at the videos made me see something I was too sick in mind, body & spirit to see back then. While I was having the freak-out of all freak-outs, meltdown of all meltdowns, my baby was loving me. I remember worrying so much about her attachment, and all I should have done was look at the evidence! There is a video of me giving Lila her very first bath. It was 3 days after we arrived home, my sister was visiting, I had spent the past 2 days with a VERY nasty stomach flu, and Lila had just puked her entire bottle all over my sister. I remember just wanting to cry (and I probably did). But the video doesn't show that at all. Instead, it shows my little Lila just gazing at me during her bath. Almost the whole time she's smiling and staring at me. Why didn't I see that? I wish I had. Thankfully, none of the videos seem to show what a mess I truly was at the time. I wasn't aware of the "fake it 'till you make it" concept back then, but apparently that's what I did!

I finally joined Youtube, so here is another video that I just love:

First off, sorry about the blurry beginning. I have absolutely no idea how to edit videos...frankly, I'm still impressed that I'm actually posting one to my blog. Baby steps, right?

Anyway, in this video Lila is laughing. At me. Now that I think back, I remember that I was one of the only ones that could get her to really laugh (what I really love is that she still has that laugh). This video was taken no more than 3 weeks after arriving home...I was still in full-on meltdown mode. And I didn't notice that my doodlebug thought her mama was the most hilarious person ever.

So, what I need to remember this time around: I want to remind myself to keep my eyes open and look for the GOOD stuff. Don't nitpick and search for bad things, but take the time to notice all of the good things that are happening. I want to really see and notice when Elijah smiles at me, when he looks at me with recognition, when he cries and I make him feel better, when I make him laugh just by making funny faces.

I can't say that bringing home a new baby won't be stressful and hard. I have no doubt that there are challenges ahead. But I'm hell-bent and determined to step away from my own anxiety and see all the amazing things that are sure to happen. Wow, I just cannot wait to meet my baby boy.

Two weeks and two days...

2010-05-19T17:58:00.000-07:00

We leave for Ethiopia in 16 days!! In the immortal words of Chevy Chase: "Halleluiah, Holy shit!" Sorry, I don't swear much on this blog...but I feel like this deserves an expletive.

I'm currently watching the Betty White SNL performance on demand. I have to agree with my friend Alta, the Lawrence Welk skits are freakin' hilarious...love the character with the tiny hands and gigantic forehead. Can someone say halloween costume??

Of course, with so much about to happen, I decided to take up a new hobby! My darling husband caught my subtle (like a shotgun) hints for a sewing machine. My friend Jen (check out her blog here) took me to this amazing fabric shop in Clintonville, Sew to Speak. LOVED IT. Such adorable fabrics. This past Sunday I used my machine for the first time. Oh, the rush! I tried my hand at the Oliver & S popover sundress. Although it is riddled with errors, the fact that it actually resembles a dress makes me the happiest girl in all the land! Behold:

Cute, right? I think next time, I'll use the 3T size. In commercial stuff Lila is somewhere between a 3T and 4T. But this seems a bit too wide.

I also found some cute stuff for Lila's room at Target. With all that is about to change for my little girl, I don't want her to feel like her room has been looted for Elijah's new room (which it kinda has). Her room now boasts adorable shelf/bin things (color coordinated with her bedding, love it!).

And so does Lila, it seems.

Finally, some updated photos of Elijah's room. While visiting with Alta & Drake (amazing parents to the most adorable little man, Rowan) I was able to finally purchase the wall decals I've been coveting.

We also purchased the crib music thing you see in the picture. We had the same one with Lila and LOVED it. Unfortunately, they don't make them anymore, so we had to hit up Ebay. It has music, lights, BUBBLES, and comes with a lovely remote. Now, that may sound silly. But there is something to be said about the ability to sneak open your wee one's door, remotely turn on the soothing music, and sneak back out without your little angel being any the wiser.

Alrighty. Off to eat a Ghirardelli double chocolate brownie topped with Breyers vanilla topped with black cherry topping. Yum yum yummy.

2010-05-05T11:41:00.000-07:00

Oy, I've been so horrible about getting pictures uploaded, so here you go! A "Wordless Wednesday," if you will (yep, totally ripped off Paige's idea...that's how I roll).

I just love this picture. Love it.

Gathering some major Easter booty at Ya Ya & Grandpa's.

My adorable little Easter Bunny. Roaring, naturally.

Almond cake from Giant Eagle. Yum!

My birthday girl is 3!!!!

Lila and her not-so-secret admirer, Eli, making some music at Lila's birthday party. How gorgeous is that little boy! Wow!

Posting the proverbial string around the finger...

2010-05-01T03:46:00.000-07:00

I am known amongst my oldest friends as having the WORST memory. Seriously, very large chunks of high school seem to just be gone. My friend Mal will talk about some event and I often have a questioning and/or blank look on my face. Very distubing. So, here are things I never ever want to forget about my darling little girl:

1. She calls hamsters "ham-monsters"

2. We went bathing suit shopping a few days ago, and I realized she was calling them "building suits"

3. When she first started walking, she would toddle around with both hands high in the air for balance. Always looked like she was surrendering.

4. She used to call our dog, Molly, "Mossy"

5. I used to bottle-feed her to sleep in my arms each night. I miss that.

6. When she was a baby, she'd blow raspberries when upset

7. She used to have this machine-gun laugh...it was so cute. And loud.

8. The desire to play with a cable chord was what finally spurred her to crawl.

9. She used to dance like her Uncle John...lots of squatting.

10. In the middle of Baby Ben's birthday party, Lila decided it was the perfect time to show everyone that she could sommersault...on hardwood floors, no less.

Once, twice, three times a lady...

2010-04-27T05:51:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to my beautiful baby girl. I cannot believe that you are turning 3 today! Such a cliche, but time has positively flown since you entered my life.

All of the fantasies I had about motherhood were so wrong. Life as your mom is infinitely richer, better, sweeter, and way more fun that I could have possible imagined.

On this day three years ago, a woman in Bale Robe made the bravest of decisions. She made a sacrifice that many of us simply cannot imagine making. Because of her bravery and selflessness, I have today and countless tomorrows with you, my precious daughter. Your birthday celebration would not be complete without honoring the person who gave you life.

Once there were two women who never knew each other

One you do not remember, the other you call Mother

Two different lives shaped to make you one

One became your guiding star, the other became your sun

The first one gave you life, the second taught you to live it

The first gave you a need for love, the second was there to give it

One gave you a nationality, the other gave you a name

One gave you a talent, the other gave you aim

One gave you emotions, the other calmed your fears

One saw your first sweet smile, the other dried your tears

One made an adoption plan, it was all that she could do

The other prayed for a child, and God led her straight to you

Now, which of these two women are you the product of?

Both, my darling, both, Just two different types of love.

-Unknown

Is this the dream that I had before I became a Mom?

That was like a black and white movie - shadowy, dreamlike, without details.

The life we live is a rainbow of details,

and a richer, more vibrant reality than anything I ever dreamed.

- Beth M. Waggenspack

Happy Birthday, Lila!

Love, Mommy.

Emerging from the food coma...

2010-04-24T15:05:00.000-07:00

We headed to Red Robin with my parents, brother, sister & nephew for for the first (of many) birthday celebrations for one Miss Lila-the-three-year-old. It was very impressive watching my child wolf down fries and then DEVOUR the ice cream sundae that was delivered to her by singing waiters. The funniest part? When we announced that she was done with her ice cream, she started frantically trying to scoop as much into her mouth as possible before the dish was taken away. Panic was etched all over her sticky, ice-cream covered face.

As I type, Lila is playing with some new farm animals. I love it when she forgets everyone around her and heads off into her imagination. It is really amazing to see and hear. Her animals are currently having extensive conversations with each other, and I do believe that the farm animals have now joined forces to defeat a couple of her dinosaurs. Hee hee, she just had the farm animals sing an updated version of the Wonder Pets song before heading out to deal with those rogue dinosaurs: "Wonder animals, wonder animals, we're on our way..."

Elijah's closet is now filling up with adorable little things thanks to an amazing group of friends. I didn't have a shower before Lila came, so this was my very first baby shower. It was as lovely and wonderful as I thought it would be. The whole adoption process is way less scary knowing that you have an amazing group of supportive mommies in your corner. Thank you thank you!

Hmmmmmm. Lila's zebra, elephant, and swan have joined the mix. And the horse is demanding that the lamb say hello to the rabbit, Ruby. But the lamb has declared that he doesn't want to say hello because he's shy. Lordy, I could listen to this all day.

Leavin on a Jet Plane

2010-04-16T03:46:00.000-07:00

We finally have our travel dates! Thank goodness, as I had just dispatched Kevin to make an unpleasant phone call to our agency. Yep, totally did not have the rocks to do it myself.

Although the embassy date is later than I had hoped, there is now a date. A deadline. I will meet my son in x number of weeks. Unbelievable! Having the travel dates set helps so much, especially since we still don't have any updated information or photos. The tenuous connection that your forge with your child before you meet them is so helped by the monthly updates (at least it was for me). You feel like you are a wee part of their life - you see them growing, wearing different outfits, smiling or crying, just looking different and new each time. I have to remind myself to really LOOK at his picture lately, I've becomed so used to it being around.

And in my most quiet moments, I just worry. I want to know if he's happy. If, right at this moment, he's smiling, crying, sleeping, eating...if someone is holding him, playing with him, giving him comfort (wishing it were me). I remember feeling this way before leaving to meet Lila, but it's way more intense this time around. I think about all of the things I want to be doing for him RIGHT NOW(feeding, changing, comforting, bathing, playing, loving) and my body just thrums with the desire to run and jump on the first flight to Addis.

Thankfully, I have a little Ethiopian girl FULL of energy to keep me busy and happy and entertained. Her latest catch phrases:

"Mommy, you crack me up!"

"Mommy, you're driving me crazy! Ugh!"

"Mommy, you're my best friend I ever heard."

"Mommy, I'm so proud of you."

After helping her Uncle John pick out furniture last night we headed over to Red Robin. Lila was ECSTATIC. As I told Kevin, every event of our meal was announced by my child like we were on a game show. "Mommy, it's my CHOCOLATE MILK!!!!" "Mommy, it's my CHICKEN NUGGETS AND FRIES!!!" And the best of all? My daughter got to meet Red Robin himself! Normally shy with gigantic, life-sized characters (and who wouldn't be? They really are kinda creepy), Lila walked right up to him, shook his hand and demanded that Uncle John take their picture.

Speaking of pictures, I promise I'll be posting a bunch next week. Completely forgot to download the new pics before Kevin left for his whirlwind European business trip with our camera in tow.

This does, however, give me time to really finish Elijah's room. The walls and painted and the crib is decked out in new bedding, but the room still looks woefully underdecorated. Wall decals, here I come!

Can I get a do-over? Please?

2010-04-07T10:42:00.000-07:00

This morning has definitely put me in my mommy-place. Not that I thought I was a perfect mom, by any stretch of the imagination. But this morning's events certainly let me know that I had let my guard down...hardcore. What is it about parenthood screw-ups that linger on the brain? I just can't let it go. No matter if I've done a million wonderful mommy things, one mistake and I'm stewing about it endlessly, berating myself, trying to figure out what I could have done better, feeling the judgement of a thousand other (totally in my head)moms. So, I decided to blog about it and LET IT FREAKIN' GO.

After a lovely 6.5 mile workout I had the good fortune to run into my friend (and birthday girl, no less) Paige. Now, in my defense, adult conversation during the day is rare in my world, so I hunkered down for a good chat. Lila was playing in the playground area with AM, all was well with the world. I was definitley feeling my mommy mojo. At some point, Lila ventured into the lobby area with some other children. I usually don't let her wander that far, but I was busy chatting and had an eyeball on her most times. But it only took a couple of minutes for my child to attempt to exit the lobby through the revolving doors and get herself lodged in said revolving doors. Did I notice? Nope. Not until another mom brought her over along with our beloved Miss Gina from the front desk. As Lila was getting a gentle lecture from Miss Gina I felt about a small as one can feel. What I'm sure were probably understanding looks and sympathetic smiles felt to me like everyone standing around me pointing and shouting, "Bad! Bad Mommy!"

Of course, I dwelled on the incident all the way home and through lunch. Poor Lila...not knowing that all of my anger and disappointment was directed squarely at myself.

Lila was taking her sweet time with lunch (again), so I decided to run out into the yard and cut some of the tulips that had just made their way up yesterday. I walked back into the house with a lovely bouquet as Lila says, "Mommy, I have to go potty!" As I rush her out of her seat and towards the bathroom, I realize that there is poop EVERYWHERE. On her booster seat, on the floor, on her shoe, and coming all kinds of ways out of her skirt and Pull-Up. I'm sure she had to go while I was outside and totally unavailable. Getting Lila, the floor, the seat, her shoe, and her skirt cleaned up all the while attempting rather miserably to make sure the dog doesn't sneak away with the poopy diaper was pretty much the last straw. Not my best parenting moment. Not even close.

Now that my little doodlebug is sleeping peacefully in my bed I am determined to shake off this shroud of failure that has descended on my morning. I'm sure all moms have these moments, mornings, days...etc. that seem to erase all of the great things we do each day. By sending this out to the internets I'm deciding to let this morning go and start our post-nap day anew. No berating myself, no second-guessing, no blowing out of proportion, no dwelling or stewing on my mistakes.

Hmmm, I do feel better. How about that?

Introducing Elijah Pagume Grandey

2010-03-31T08:58:00.000-07:00

It's official: I'm a mom of two! Just got the call from our agency a few minutes ago. No word on travel dates yet, but for the moment I'm content just to stare at pictures of my beautiful son. I have a son!

Ooohh-weee, what's up with that?

2010-03-27T17:50:00.000-07:00

If you've watched SNL at all lately, you'll be hearing the title of this post in your head...truly a hilarious skit, but I would pay cash money to get this out of my head! What doesn't help? Kevin has been singing it so much that Lila now has it memorized. Although, I guess I should be happy that she's not singing the "Humpty Dance" lyrics. Where is that Mother-of-the-Year award anyway?

Despite the heartbreaking loss of my Buckeyes, we've had a lovely weekend. Mimi rolled into town on Friday to help me get Elijah's room in order. To say that Lila was excited to see her Mimi is a massive understatement. There were several times where I feared she may just stroke out from the excitement.

Elijah's room is now a lovely shade of green - a lovely compliment to his bedding. Sadly, I have to send back the quilt for a new one. The lion only has one eye! The stitching is plain old missing and it's just weird. But let's be honest, the quilt is truly the least useful part of a baby bedding set anyway. So, our decorating plans can move forward! Here is what I have in mind:

Kind of a crappy pic, but you get the idea. They are lovely wall decals from Wee Gallery (totally stolen from my friend Alta's nursery! It's not my fault you have such good taste!).

I've also become obsessed with finding some wall art and am completely overwhelmed (in a good way) with Etsy. Here are some of my faves:

Cute, right? The shop is called Art and Philanthropy...check them out here.

Also, I love the idea of spelling Elijah's name with letter wall cards, but didn't like the thought of buying the whole alphabet only to have an incomplete set for playing. Neurotic, I know. But fear not! Check out these adorble 5x7 wall cards you can purchase individually:

I think that Elijah's name would look adorable matted & framed. Also from Etsy, the shop is called JennSki's shop. Check this cute stuff out here.

Lordy, I'm overwhelmed with all of this cuteness! Not to mention that I'm in gardening & landscaping heaven...if only my budget would allow me to do all that I so desperately want to do. For this season, I'll have to settle for planting a gorgeous weeping cherry tree in our front garden bed, and boxwood shrubs to replace the horrible, prickly, icky Barberry that lines our front walkway. The tree will be delivered next weekend. Can't wait!

Off to watch some more basketball. Go West Virginia!

And party every day...

2010-03-24T10:42:00.000-07:00

Is there some kind of nationwide children's nap strike going on? No? Just the kids in my house? Great.

So much for having time to shower today. Am so very frustrated it was either blog or throw something. And it is SO VERY UNCOOL to throw babies these days.

Update: Ahhh, both kiddos slumbering peacefully. I was finally able to shave my sasquatch self. Aren't you all glad to know that?

On a truly vain note, I LOVE the Kiehls Midnight Recovery Concentrate. Lordy, that stuff works! Not terribly expensive (especially when compared to other night cream/anti-aging/anti-wrinkle products). Makes my face feel bright and soft in the morning. So, when I'm schlepping around in sweats and formula-stained t-shirts, at least my face looks FABULOUS.

We have a court date!!!

2010-03-20T05:06:00.000-07:00

It actually happened! The one day that I was not obsessively checking my e-mails, of course. I was also totally ignoring Kevin's phone calls because I was having a perfectly lovely afternoon at the zoo with friends & their adorable tots. Thank goodness I checked for txt messages.

March 31st! Send all positive thoughts & prayers our way!

March is definitely going out with a bang in our neck of the woods. We are set to close on our house on March 30th. Yikes!

Now, off to get Elijah's room cleared of the mountains of crap that currently reside there. I bought his bedding last night. So sorry to all of you who voted for the hippo bedding, it was FREAKIN UNAVAILABLE!!!! I was not happy, let me tell ya. So here is what I ended up getting:

I had actually chosen this bedding a long time ago, but kind of forgot about it...and then was smitten with the Target stuff. Thankfully, I had some rewards cards that I had not used and free shipping to boot! I love the polka-dots, chocolate brown, and you can't see from these pictures, but the turtle has a lovely rainbow striped shell. If anyone spies a rug they think might work, let me know!

Happiness is...

2010-03-17T17:09:00.000-07:00

Listening to my hubby read "T-Rex Cottontail" to Lila over the baby monitor. He really tears it up...different voices for each character, such animation! Love it. Also love having the night off so I can shower and enjoy a very cold Harps.

A few days ago I bought Lila her very first nightgown. So cute - green & white stripes with a bunny on it. Lila LOVES her nightgown. Although she gets a wee bit confused and frequently refers to it as her "countdown." Hee.

Happy St Patrick's Day

2010-03-13T12:01:00.000-08:00

Ok, this may sound judgemental, but when did St. Patrick's Day become like Halloween: an excuse for women to dress like prostitutes?

I ran the St. Patrick's Day 5K this morning. Great fun, the first race of the season...the weather was horrific, but I was so very happy to run the race in under 27 minutes (26:45, to be exact).

The race was hosted by a local Dublin bar. Now, I know that I should have prepared myself for the crowds that would flock to a race hosted by a bar, but still! I was amazed by the number of seemingly grown women who were barely dressed, all in the name of St. Patrick's Day. And let's take a guess at how many of them were actually Irish?

Happy St. Patrick's Day, from a woman who managed to celebrate without wearing shorts that required a trip to the local waxing salon.

Staring at the blank page before me...

2010-03-12T04:59:00.000-08:00

I am having a harder and harder time imagining how this adoption process is going to unfold. We received the official statement from our agency that Ethiopia is changing to a 2-visit process. Our house was not a happy house last night. Poor Lila. I managed to hold the tears in, but my wee one seemed to sense that something was not right with her mommy. She was super-clingy all evening, demanding to be held almost constantly, frequently asking me if I was alright. Oh, my sweet girl. How did she know? Do I wear my emotions on my sleeve that much? Apparently.

Actually, the tears didn't come until this morning when I was reading another friend's blog post about all of these changes. I think it took some time and space for me to really process all that has happened in less than 24 hours. While I am still confident and sure that this will all happen eventually, I simply cannot imagine getting on a plane without my son. I'm sitting here now trying to picture it and my mind is blank, refusing to even entertain such a horrible scenario. But it will happen. How does one prepare? I don't know.

Financial issues aside (and that's one BIG aside), I need to start realizing that I will be flying home for over 20 hours without my child. And there is a very good possibility that we won't be able to afford 2 more tickets for the embassy date, so chances are I won't be able to be there to bring Eli home. Probably the hardest for me to accept. I have already had many a daydream of Eli in a sling, sleeping on my chest during our long flight home. Time to make some adjustments.

I'll end on a Lila anecdote: yesterday I went to get her from her nap. I use the word "nap" lightly, as there was very little sleeping involved. Anyway, as I walked up to her bed she said, "Mommy, I have some new friends!" She then proceeded to hand me a ball of something white & fluffy. At first I thought she had pulled some stuffing out of one of her stuffed animals (there are dozens in her bed). When I asked what it was from, she replied, "My diaper!" Ewwwwww. She had pulled the filler from her (blessedly) dry diaper. Ick. But funny, no?

I heard it through the grapevine...

2010-03-11T10:39:00.000-08:00

Well, the adoption internets are a-buzzing, I tell you. Confirmed by some agencies and not by others, rumor has it that Ethiopia will be quickly switching to a two-visit country. Meaning, one or both parents have to fly over to be present for the court date, and then fly back for the embassy date (at which point you bring your child home). I say "rumor has it" because my agency has not confirmed or denied at this point. I was told yesterday that our agency's lawyer in Ethiopia called and said, "Nothing is in writing yet." Whatever that means.

I'm trying to stay calm and just roll with this new tidbit of information. Let's just say I'm adding it to the every-expanding list of THINGS OVER WHICH I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL. Lordy that list just grows and grows.

But I can't help bemoan the fact that if we are affected by this change we will have just missed the opportunity to make only one visit. Meaning, had we gotten our referral just a few weeks earlier, then we would have gotten a court date a few weeks earlier...no two visits. But, it is what it is. I can certainly say that the timing is horrific...we are in the process of buying a house for goodness sake. There just isn't $2000-4000 laying around for extra plane tickets to Ethiopia. It will happen, though. Of this I'm sure. No matter what, it will happen, credit card debt be dammed.

We'll end with something cute. Today Lila was reciting her own version of the "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" book. And it went something like this:

"Trachodon, trachodon, what do you see? I see a triceratops looking at me."

"Triceratops, triceratops, what do you see? I see Sid the Science Kid looking at me."

"Sid, Sid, what do you see? I see Tsingtaosaurus looking at me."

And so forth. Made me smile, and that cannot be overrated these days.

Root, root, root for the Cubbies!

2010-03-09T15:52:00.000-08:00

Once you slack off on the blogging it's oh-so hard to get back into the swing of things! With so much going on, how do I condense it into a post? I know there is some way to write and then hold onto posts, but I know myself...it ain't gonna happen.

First with the big news: we are buying our house! I am so happy that this has finally come to pass, and a whole year or so earlier than we had thought possible (thank you, first-time home buyers tax credit!). I love my house, love my neighborhood, love Westerville, love the community center...after doing some house hunting I am thrilled that we can stay put. Now I am filled and overcome with all sorts of ideas for decorating and rennovating. I wish I could kidnap some of my crafty friends and force them to work their magic on my house (watch out Alta & Paige, I'm coming for you). First up, though, the not so glamorous task of replacing the HVAC system.

Kevin and I spent our first weekend away from Lila...all in all it went fairly well. I missed her like crazy, but it was so wonderful to be able to reconnect with old friends. And just as I was starting to get really nostalgic about living in Chicago, we hit a MAJOR traffic jam on I-90/94 on the way to the airport. Seriously, there are not many places where you will find a massive traffic jam on a Sunday afternoon.

Still no word on a court date. I just read that another family had their date postponed from today until the 23rd. Arrggh. Doesn't bode well, but it is what it is. Yet another thing over which I have absolutely no control. In the meantime, I'm excited to decorate Elijah's room with my mom in a few weeks.

We'll end with pictures:

She now loves chatting on the phone. I don't know if you can see it, but there is a MASSIVE mess behind her. Oy.

Love these series of photos. Thank goodness for digital cameras, because I would say 97% of the time I take the most horrific pictures...but last week I grabbed the camera and just snapped away while Lila and I were playing. I'm not even that bothered by the fact that I CLEARLY did not wash my hair that day. Ah, well.

And we end with my niece. Isn't she adorable?? She has now started belly laughing, it's the most wonderful sound. Of course, these chuckles are almost always because of Lila. The other day Kendall laughed and laughed while Lila shook a container of Easy-Mac. Lila works with what's available like all the great performers.

If I knew then what I know now

2010-02-27T17:42:00.000-08:00

Thanks to my friend, Amy, I was directed to the blog of a recent adoptive mom who is having a rough time since bringing her son home from Ethiopia. See her blog here. She writes honestly and beautifully about what a great many of us have experienced. More important, what many of us have experienced and were afraid/ashamed/scared to talk about.

When I read her posts it was as if I was reading my own thoughts from two years ago when we brought Lila home. After 6 years of infertility treatments and another 18 months of adoption paper chasing, it had finally happened. I had my daughter. So why was I crying all of the time? Why wasn't I enjoying the motherhood that I had so desperately wanted? I felt like I was this horrible monster...the guilt was almost as incapacitating as the anxiety. No sleep, couldn't eat, my heart would race as Kevin left for work, rushes of cold anxiety through my stomach & legs, wondering what the hell I was going to do with this very cute stranger all day long. I was shocked and apalled at the resentment I felt - what had I done to our very easy life? Before mommyhood, I could shower, pee, walk the dog, read a magazine, watch tv...do all of those things and more any old time I wanted. There were definitely days where I just didn't see how I could go on feeling this way. I never knew that anxiety could take such a physical toll.

Thankfully, I was desperate enough to post to an adoption group about what was going on. I was terrified and ashamed to say the least. There just hadn't been any posts about topics like PAD. But I was overwhelmed and thankful for the responses I received...I wasn't a horrible person, I wasn't alone, and it would get better. I read those responses many time every day, just to remind myself to be patient. That things would get better, just let it happen.

I am not a patient person. I wanted to know specifically when I would realize this utopia of motherhood that I had always visualized. When would I finally feel like Lila's Mommy. That was definitely a big part of it - not feeling like a "real" mom...and that was a surprise to me. I remember walking around with Lila and expecting someone to point at me and yell, "Imposter!"

I can't say when it happened. Certainly not all at once. But now Lila is my own. My daughter. The love of my life. I am her mom. I cannot imagine a day without her in it. Whatever process had to happen to reach this point was worth it.

When I first saw the pictues of my Elijah Pagume, along with pure joy & happiness, I definitely had feelings of anxiety as well. Will he attach? Will I attach? All of the unknowns scare the hell out of me. But this time around I'm comforted no only by the lessons of my past experience, but also by the amazing network of friends and bloggers I've found over the past two years. I'm most definitely not alone.

Other goings on...

2010-02-25T04:00:00.000-08:00

This will be brief, as I want to finish my coffee before my little dinosaur wakes up.

Lila's first haircut:

Yep, she was NOT thrilled. But, her ends are now nice & healthy, curls are looking great!

Lila feeding her spinosaurus a sugar snap pea.

My birthday:

Lila yelling, "Cake! Cake! Cake!

She found the cake to be acceptable.

Random:

"I love cleaning! I love overalls!"

Referral!!!!

2010-02-25T03:39:00.000-08:00

On Monday, February 22, we received a referral for a beautiful baby boy from Ethiopia. It was the day after my birthday, and I got "the call" just as I was hunkering down to tackle a GIGANTIC mountain of laundry (which totally didn't get done).

I recognized the area code right away, but it was still a complete and total shock. I was really not expecting this for at least another 2 months or so. I answered the phone and couldn't seem to get rid of this nervous giggle. Our agency coordinator told me that she was looking at pictures of our son and I pretty much burst into tears. I then proceeded to babble about how it was the day after my birthday and that my birthday proper had been kinda shitty and this TOTALLY MADE UP FOR IT. Lordy, I couldn't shut myself up for a bit.

As luck would have it, Kevin is actually in town (back from Singapore just this past Thursday) so I as able to get ahold of him right away. Then we both made phone calls to our parents & siblings...they all immediately fell in love with this gorgeous boy.

I can't post pictures, but I'll do my best to describe: he's almost 6 months old, 16 whopping pounds, and has Lila's eyes! It's uncanny...they are from the same region (Oromia) and when you compare with Lila's referral pictures you can see such similarities, especially around the eyes.

Lila now points at his picture and says, "There is baby Elijah! He's sooooooo cute!" Indeed.

All I want for my birthday is...

2010-02-18T12:28:00.001-08:00

My hubby to come home. And he's almost here! Just called from the Columbus airport. Officially best birthday ever. Who knew turning 34 could be so exciting?

Open the door get on the floor, everybody walk the dinosaur.

2010-02-14T18:03:00.000-08:00

For those of you who know my little darling, you know that she loves her some dinosaurs. Especially roaring:

Can you hear that? Trust me, it's loud. I think my parents would call it divine justice. According to them (I still have my doubts), as an infant & toddler, my screaming displeasure could be heard down the block "even through the storm windows." That's a direct quote from my Dad.

And on to our Valentine's Day. I tried my hand at craftiness and made a cute little heart garland (thanks to a TON of hearts given to me by my Mom).

It was a tricky day for me...I was seriously grumpy and couldn't seem to shake it all day. My little Lila seemed to sense something was up and kept giving me kisses all day long. It was lovely. "Mommy, I give you kisses on your elbow! On your cheek! On your knee!" We also celebrated Valentine's Day with a trip to Target: got some freakin' adorable overalls...for Lila, of course, and treated myself to a wee box of chocolates. What I found funny was that the Valentine's section looked, as my brother described, "like a war zone." Lots of scared & desperate looking husbands & boyfriends milling about.

I'm completely caught up in the olympics now. Or as Lila says, the "ho-lympics." I'm not much of a crier, but darn it if the commentaries don't squeeze some tears out of me each time! Even the opening ceremonies. Not cool, NBC.

Stay cool. Happy Valentine's Day!