Sometimes life just hits you

My cup runneth over. This is something my mom refers to from time to time. It is a phrase that speaks to her about the abundance of emotion that can come with life. The idea of being filled to the point of overflow, not in an "i'm drowning" kind of way but in a "blown away" and humbling kind of way.

I had one of those moments today. I stood in one of the rooms in our house (it may be important to note that this room was clean and I was not the one that cleaned it. That fact alone may have been the catalyst that allowed this moment to happen.) and I looked at the walls. I saw shelves filled with books and photo frames: our honeymoon, Bill's grandfather, a beautiful baby frame that I never had time to put a picture in (#reallife)...I looked up and saw artwork on the walls from our many trips to Africa. As my eyes moved across the room from the posters of renaissance paintings that hung on our walls in college to wall clings of sesame street characters my heart welled up and so did my eyes. My cup runneth over.

Could I be this lucky? Is it possible to be 35 and already have a life so full of beautiful moments? I looked at the treadmill where I had just been running. How many miles have I logged on that machine? Running to fit into a wedding dress, running to burn off the baby weight, running to fight through stressful moments, running with praise music in my ears and almost falling off because I started dancing with joy!

I looked at the toys in the corner and thought back to all the afternoons pretending. As I looked at the peeling and weathered version of Elmo, Ernie and Cookie Monster I cried harder as I realized that we don't watch Sesame Street anymore. When did that stop? How long will they let me hold onto these silly wall decorations before they are embarrassed?

Their little lives bring me the greatest joy. Also the most stress I have ever known. I woke up today cranky, thinking to myself "if that boy doesn't start sleeping..." and I couldn't think of even a slightly reasonable way to finish that sentence. I felt powerless, frustrated and tired.

The days can be like that. The choices we have made and the paths we have followed have been full of faith-filled risks. They have led to some of the most incredible moments and some of the hardest seasons we have ever had to face.

Grief - When God's Not Done With You Yet

God’s Not done with you.

This song played on the radio incessantly during the month of August when we were watching my father die. Every time I got in the car it would be the first or second song to come on the radio. Sometimes I listened and sometimes I had to shut it off. I wanted to have hope. I wanted it to be a message for my dad. The song made me angry at God because I felt like God WAS done with him. Why was he taking him now? There is so much more we wanted to include him in. It wasn’t fair and this song just kept reminding me of that. How do you reconcile a song that says God’s not done when you know that a life is ending against your will? Yet deep down, I knew even then that the song was not for my Dad it was for me. I just wasn’t ready to hear it yet.

The truth is God wasn’t done with my Dad, either. I watched my dad as he patiently and peacefully submitted to his fate and willingly sought after God to bring him home. My dad had made peace with his death. It feels like God is abandoning the fight when you watch a loved one slip away. I knew all the Christian answers and I was giving them to people as they would come to say their goodbye. “Heaven is it’s own kind of healing.”, “God knows things we don’t and his timing is always perfect.” It didn’t feel like God was working though. It was torture to see my dad lay in bed, unable to communicate and not know how to help him. We didn’t know if he was awake or resting, hot or cold, in pain or in peace. In the early afternoon of what became the day he died, I had cried out to God, “if your plan is to take him to heaven, just do it already, this is unbearable!”

It was then that God opened my eyes to see that my Dad was not suffering. His heart was beating strong. His legs were not swollen with fluids, there were no bed sores or painful infections, his breathing was not labored or painful. Having watched other loved ones walk this path, I knew that God was protecting him from a much more difficult ending. He was dying but the transition was effortless. In his final moments we did not get a smile or any sign that communicated God was there like we had hoped to see and my Dad had wanted to give us. His breathing simply got slower and slower. He faded away every so gently. The last thing to stop was his heart. Looking back now, I can see a beauty in the calm. There were no alarms, no violent coughs or gasps for air, no signs of struggle or pain. Just peace and surrender. What felt like God abandoning the plan was in fact a very loving and gentle end to a heroic life.

Since my Dad’s passing, we have lost another close friend. Upon hearing the news, I had a vision of my Dad welcoming her into heaven. I saw him take her by the hand and wrap one arm over he shoulders. I heard him welcome her and tell her it was all going to be okay. My mom had the same vision. It brought me comfort that my Dad hasn’t changed a bit, he is still being the loving, caring person he is and welcoming others.

So back to the song. It has continued to pop up on every playlist or station I turn to. “God’s not done with you, even when your lost and it’s hard and you’re falling apart.” I knew even then that it wasn’t a message about my Dad. The song was for me, my life. God isn’t done working. At first, I wasn’t ready to hear it. I don’t like thinking about what’s next because I haven’t managed to wrap my mind around what just happened. The world around me keeps moving forward but time for me stands still. I have been asking for God to come and find me in my grief. To show me a way forward with the rest of the world.

It’s possible that today He has answered my prayers. This morning my plan was to drop the kids at school and come back for a run. This is my routine most days. As I sipped my coffee and made my way through the house, I got the sense that it wasn’t time for a run. Stubborn as always, I kept making my way toward the treadmill. I checked my phone and saw a message “We were saved to worship.” It caused me to pause but I kept moving toward my run while pondering the image. Was I healed from my cancer so I could continue to worship God? What does that even mean? How is it different from what I was doing before? I love music, it speaks to me, but there must be something I am supposed to DO with my life. Then I couldn’t find the ipad that I normally use to put on a movie while I run. I took another lap around the house and was unsuccessful in finding it, so I decided with trepidation that I was going to have to run to music today. Music has been hard for me since my Dad passed. Sometimes songs still connect but most of the time I struggle to find joy in the words that used to bring me great motivation. I am still stuck, trying to make sense of a world without my dad and the music in my life had been off beat. Yet this morning in the car there was a song that caused me to pause. I stayed in the car until it was done. It was a message about running to God again and again and again. A surgeon for your heart and a friend for your soul. Maybe somehow my rhythm is back and the music will be good for my run today.

I laced up my shoes, turned on the treadmill. I unpaused my music station. Immediately…“God’s not done with you…” I made it about 20 steps before the words of the song overpowered me and I had to sit down. I melted into a puddle of tears as they washed over me.

Standing in your ruins,

Feels a lot like the end

So used to losing,

You're afraid to try again

Right now all you see are ashes

Where there was a flame

Truth is that you're not forgotten

'Cause grace knows your name

God's not done with you

Even with your broken heart and your wounds and your scars

God's not done with you

Even when you're lost and it's hard and you've fallen apart

God's not done with you

It's not over, it's only begun

So don't hide, don't run

'Cause God's not done

With you.

There's a light you don't notice

Until you're standing in the dark

And there's a strength that's growing

Inside your shattered heart

God's not done with you

Even when you're lost and it's hard and you've fallen apart

He's got a plan, this is part of it

He's gonna finish what He started

God's not done writing your story

As the song ended I pushed pause again and sat there. This message has been like a broken record in my life. Returning at all the wrong moments and getting stuck in my head so that I hear it whenever my heart gets quiet.

I began to think back over the past week of all the people God has placed on my heart. I have felt drawn to pray over others often. This week alone, I have had more than 5 people from broken moments in my past reach out in a fresh way and seek comfort from me again. I have heard more than a dozen times “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, I should be reaching out to help you, you’re the one going through something.” Still, I felt compelled to extend grace and hope to them instead of the other way around.

Scripture says that God is faithful to finish the good work he began in us. When I got dressed this morning I put on the matching hoodie that I have with my Dad. It says “Cancer only made this family Stronger.” I still don’t know why I get to be here and he was chosen for heaven. I do know that he asked God for exactly that, when I was diagnosed he asked God to let it be him instead. I don’t think God works like that, but I do think my father believed there was so much more to my story. He could see that God was not done with me yet. So I am letting God use the story of cancer in my life to make me stronger. I keep running in faith because that is what my dad would want me to do. God’s not done writing my story, he’s gonna finish what he started.

This doesn’t mean I may not be a puddle of tears again tomorrow, but it does mean that I am trusting God to guide me through this. I am leaning on him and listening closer than I ever have before. I am following his light through this darkness one step at a time. I want to embody the same peaceful surrender I saw in my father during his last days. I want to humbly and patiently wait on God and fully trust him for what’s next. Just like my Dad’s last days when he was waiting for heaven, the final destination is clear but the way is unknown, God’s timing is unknown, but GOD IS KNOWN…and that’s enough for today. Fear and despair won’t win.

God’s not done with me yet.

Hear the Song

After Midnight

It is 12:42 am and I am awake because of a spoon.

Why would a spoon keep me up all night? This particular spoon was under the pillow of our sweet Ugandan boy who is anxiously awaiting fresh snow. Just when we thought we had seen the last of winter's icy chill the weather reports started coming about one last mega-storm of the season. Apparently, it is a tradition of sorts to sleep with a spoon under your pillow if you are hoping for snow. I agree it is an odd tradition, what does a spoon have to do with snowfall?

Isaac caught wind of the spoon theory and he just had to try it. Friends had spent all day at school dreaming of a snow day and even though we received the phone call hours before bedtime that school was, in fact, canceled due to the impending storm...he still had to give the spoon a try.

It started at 11:30. Our bedroom door opened to the sound of a wide-awake little boy. "My spoon fell down the crack and I can't get it back."

"It's okay baby, go back to sleep. It has already started to snow and you already know that school is canceled for tomorrow."

"But my spoon is stuck!"

"It's late buddy, go back to sleep and we will find the spoon in the morning.,,oh, and close the door on your way out."

We should have known better. Any change in Isaac's routine is enough to keep him up all night. If the blanket isn't right. If he isn't wearing socks. If he has two stuffed animals instead of one. If he has one stuffed animal instead of two. If he got a kiss on the cheek or forehead instead of a kiss on the lips. The list goes on and on and just when we think we have the exact formula for bedtime bliss...it changes. I should have known then that the spoon was going to cause trouble but I was exhausted and I just wanted to go back to sleep.

I heard the creak in the hallway first, thanks to our old house. Maybe he is just going to the bathroom. I think to myself. The floorboards creak again and I can tell he is in his sister's room now. Before I can will myself out of bed, our bedroom door opens and closes. It is so dark that I can't tell if he has entered the room. He must have seen me start to get up because his feet flew ninja quiet down the hall and he had almost made it back to his room before I made it to my doorway. "I had to check and see if the door was closed. Daddy asked me to close the door."

I check my watch. Midnight exactly. "Buddy, that was a half hour ago and it doesn't explain why you went into your sister's room too." I can see his body bend and squirm as the anxiety takes over. I do my best to be firm but calm. "It's time for bed now."

"My spoon is way down under Mommy."

"I know buddy but we can't get it until the morning. It is late and we all need to sleep so we can play in the snow tomorrow."

"Okay."

I tucked him in again. I checked the blanket. I checked the stuffed animals, the nightlight, the room temperature, the fan, the humidifier, the windows, the closet and anything else that might distract him from sleep...but I didn't get the spoon.

30 min later and my bedroom door opens again. This time it is Caraline with a flashlight. "I can't sleep." Wide awake by now, I get out of bed and begin walking her back to her room. That's when I hear the wailing and moaning. He is in a full blown meltdown. He thinks it is about the spoon, but it's never really about the "spoon."

"Sweetheart, did Isaac's crying wake you up?"

"No, Mommy. It's not his fault." She is covering for him. She is right, though, it isn't his fault. Her precious heart can realize that better than mine can at 12:42 am. I wake up Bill and we all begin the journey it will take to set things right again.
                                            ________________________________________


Last week I was texting with a friend. Our Thursday was full and we had multiple places we needed to be that night but we weren't going to make it to any of them. You can rarely predict when it is going to be a hard day. There is never a "good" day for it to be a "hard" day. I spent more than an hour canceling plans and calling in favors to cover for my responsibilities that night. As a people pleaser this is especially hard for me. I want to be dependable but I have signed on to a life that is utterly unpredictable.

"I have to remember that I wanted this." I texted my friend. "I wanted to be the loving mom that helped a broken soul through PTSD and abandonment issues. I can't get upset when that reality disrupts my day."  This text was followed not too long after with a more crass text "Stupid Jesus, giving me a heart for orphans. Doesn't he know I am a hot mess?"

It may have been a snarky and sarcastic way of dealing with my frustration in the moment but the truth is in there somewhere. The truth that God called us to this. We agonized and waited and waited and waited for the chance to love the little boy God had for us.

It is also true that I am a mess. Apart from God, I am the least likely candidate for this job. God has a habit of picking the least likely candidates. Raising a boy goes against everything I value. I like things neat and clean and calm. If you have raised a boy you are laughing right now.

God has a habit of stretching us outside of our comfort zone. It is when we are outside of our comfort zone that we turn to him, we follow him, we depend on him. When we tackle the small things we can do on our own with little effort, it is easy to glorify ourselves. It feels nice to get all the glory at times but it isn't what we were designed for and eventually, it feels empty. Deep down our hearts long for our creator (though few of us realize the ache inside for what it really is). The greatest high I have ever had is when I have allowed God to use me for something I never could have done apart from Him. As I look back, the best moments of my life are when I have taken the leap and followed God down a path that seemed impossible. When people know that there is no way you can do something...and it still gets done. That's when God gets the glory. THAT'S when the least likely candidate becomes the BEST candidate, because, as much as we would like it to be, the challenge before us was never about us to begin with.

So someone please remind me of this tomorrow when I am tired and my kids want to build a snowman. Please remind me that there is a God that loves me and loves them and he will guide me through the impossible if I just look to him and let him.

Lord, help me look to you when I am weak. Help me to come to you when I am exhausted. Remind me of who you are, and who I am because of you. Thank you, Lord, that you are good. Thank you that you are as near to us on our best days as you are on our worst. Help me to sing your praise in the good and the bad. Remind me that you are my strength when I am weak. You are the source of my help and my hope. Thank you for placing me in circumstances that are beyond what I can handle apart from you because when I follow you I find the way, the truth, and the life. Please fill me with a patience that extends beyond midnight and a deep love for Isaac. God, will you continue to shape me and mold me to be what he needs and help me to always point him toward the same hope that I have in You.

Victory

Perhaps you have heard me yell it across a crowded room. "Muwanguzi!" It was Isaac's last name before he came to us and we kept it as his middle name because it means victory. On the really hard days I like to stop and recount all the victories we have seen. Today Bill came home to me yelling "That's it! Stop talking to each other! I never want to hear you talk to each other ever again!" Even as I said it I knew I was being ridiculous but we had had the kind of afternoon, week...okay month... that truly provoked such a statement. So join me, will you, in looking for victories in the middle of the madness...

1) My kids were playing with dart guns...this may not seem like a victory but loading these guns requires fine motor skills and shooting them is actually quite challenging. The first time Isaac picked up one of these toys it caused an hour long melt down (for him and for me) because he simply could not do it himself. He didn't have the strength or the precision to get it down. NOW I find darts EVERYWHERE! He finally has the hand strength to pull the trigger and the fine motor skills to reload.

2) We went to Wal-Mart today. When Isaac first came home almost two years ago a simple trip to the store overwhelmed him. He would reach for me from the cart and beg for a hug. We often had to stop several times in the same aisle to take a hug break and reassure him that he was safe. Perhaps it was sensory processing disorder or the motion of the cart or just the enormity of it all. A trip to the store was never easy, rarely quick and often meant leaving with only half the items on my list. TODAY Isaac was like any almost five year old...distracted by super heroes on the waffle boxes, begging to buy lunchables and fighting with his sister. We left with everything on the list and the whole trip only took 30 min.

3)We have two dogs. If you haven't heard the story yet of how Bacon entered our lives, you should. It is a victory in and of itself that we made an 18 hour car trip with two kids and one (then two) dogs without any major difficulties. As seen above, we have had worse trips to the local store! However, if you have been following our story since the beginning you will remember that Isaac had a paralyzing fear of anything with fur. He has completely overcome his fear and he is adorably in love with Bacon and Reeses. He helps take care of them. He races to be the one who gets to feed them. Petting Bacon even helps to calm Isaac when he is upset. VICTORY!

Because it could take days to fully explain the ins and outs of our journey I'll leave the rest of our victories as a simple list but know that each item represents hours and days and months of effort. Isaac is showing us all that nothing is impossible with God:

• Isaac can use scissors
• he knows the alphabet, he can even write most letters!
• he can say the word "THirteen" and "THeater"
• he can use S and ST sounds
• Isaac tells me about his day at school and what games he plays
• We all share about the best part of our day at dinner each night.
• We also share about something that may have been hard that day...Isaac participates.
• Isaac prays to God for help when he needs it
• Isaac can dress and undress himself
• he can stand on one leg
• he can feed himself with a fork
• he can use a straw
• when you ask him his name he says "Isaac" loudly and clearly. He may even look you in the eye.
• Isaac helps to set the table for dinner (and clear it!)
• Isaac loves to dance and sing
• he can talk to his Daddy on the phone and have a back and forth conversation without needing anything "translated"
• Isaac loves counting
• he can tell a creative story
• he colors in the lines
• he can blow his nose
• Isaac can ride a bike and a scooter
• Isaac went down the bounce house slide by himself at back to school night
• Isaac made it through all of back to school night
• Isaac can swim and jump and almost dive
• he can whisper
• he can bounce on the trampoline
• he can play uno and win!
• he can communicate his emotions (love, fear, anger, sadness, frustration, excitement)
• he can take a deep breath to calm down
• Isaac can fall asleep in the car
• Isaac can take a shower
• he can communicate clearly the thoughts going through his head "Mommy, look at that girl with the pink backpack, she is walking away from us now but there was a Minnie Mouse on her shirt and I liked it."
• Isaac can have a substitute teacher teach his class and still have a good day

I know there is more, but you get the point, in two short years Isaac has seen A LOT of victory.

Looking Back/ Looking Forward

Facebook has a feature that I am sure most users are very familiar with. It is called "On This Day." A part of me wonders if the creators of this feature fully understood the impact that something like this could have. For those of you that don't know, the app looks back over all your prior posts on the current date as far back as you have had a facebook account. It quickly lists for you on one screen what memories you have collected year after year.

It has been a fun way to look back at photos of my kids as they have grown. It has also brought back many hilarious memories with friends and important milestones as a family. I do my best to check it everyday because it is a good reality check that 1) life happens in seasons and good or bad things could be very different tomorrow 2) a year can make a huge difference in any given situation and 3) I usually have a lot more to be thankful for then I realize.

It was today's "On This Day" moment from 2015 that prompted me to begin this blog again. I'm not sure how many people will read it, but I realized that I need these memories more than anyone. That my own words and God inspired wisdom can be the very reminders I need to keep going.

I am embarrassed to say that you have ALL heard me complain over this past year. If you have been kind enough to ask how I am doing or happened to offer me a hug at a vulnerable moment...you have heard the stories of my heavy heart. Finding my way on this new path has been something that has rocked me to my core and broken my heart in more ways than I knew possible. It has brought out the worst in me (which I am now learning is all a part of how God intends to refine me).

Still, even in the darkest moments, there is a hope I cannot deny. However, I have gotten good at ignoring it. Some days it is easier to to be cranky than to be hopeful. Some days feel unfair or unending. 

As usual, God has given me a song to guide me through and put words to an emotion I couldn't otherwise express. This time it is "Thy Will Be Done" by Hillary Scott

I'm so confused
I know I heard you loud and clear
So, I followed through
Somehow I ended up here
I don't wanna think
I may never understand
That my broken heart is a part of your plan
When I try to pray
All I've got is hurt and these four words

Thy will be done

I know you're good
But this don't feel good right now
And I know you think
Of things I could never think about
It's hard to count it all joy
Distracted by the noise
Just trying to make sense
Of all your promises
Sometimes I gotta stop
Remember that you're God
And I am not
So

Thy will be done
Like a child on my knees all that comes to me is
Thy will be done

I know you see me

I know you hear me, Lord
Your plans are for me
Goodness you have in store

The first time I heard this song on the radio I had to pull over and let the rush of emotions take hold of me. It was like someone found out my secret and wrote a song about it. There are times when I wonder, did we make the right choice? Am I really what he needs? Those thoughts never last long though because there is no doubt who started us on this journey and God doesn't make mistakes.

He was so clear. This is our path. 

Every tear. Every battle for control. Every broken item. Even my broken heart. This is our path.

It sounds awful. I know I have made it sound awful because when you are knee deep in it (and often over your head as well) sometimes all you can see is the awful. BUT it is also beautiful. It is beautiful because God is in it. He hasn't abandoned us to a lifetime of complicated and shut the door. No. He holds me in my broken moments. He forgives me when I loose control. He gently guides me each day to look to him and join him in this process.

I actually prayed this week "Lord, I know you brought us down this path to refine me. I know you are using him to bring out the worst in me so that I can face what is ugly and have victory over it. However, I feel like soon there will be nothing left of me to refine. I've got nothing left."

Then I sat there and very slowly God spoke to my heart and said "exactly." Slowly my exhaustion turned to gratitude as I realized that's the goal...more of Him and less of me. The entire process of sanctification is meant to make us more like Christ. I am in process. As I said so wisely just a year ago...I am in the middle of my marathon. God's not finished with me yet.

Christmas Card

Dear Friends and Family,

We wanted to take a moment and wish you all a very Merry Christmas! We love getting your Christmas Cards in the mail and having a small window into your world. 

This year has been both the hardest year and the best year so far. Next week we will celebrate one year with Isaac being forever part of our family. It has been wonderful to look back and remember all that God has done. This time last year Isaac was saying his first words ever and we were hearing his laughter for the first time. Now he makes us laugh every single day and we love listening to his stories. This time last year we were experiencing the greatest gift our family has ever been given...8 weeks of uninterrupted time to bond and cherish each other. Of course this time was wrapped up in a season of waiting and being very far from home but we look back now and we can see it for the gift that it was.

Becoming a family of 4 in such a nontraditional way as walked us through brokenness and pain, but it has also taught us a level of love and patience that only the holy spirit could bring. We have experienced nearly 4 years of "Firsts" crammed into just 12 short months. Everything from eating with a fork, to first words, to finding Elfy; our hide and seek friend. 

God has used Cara and Isaac to teach me more than I can summarize in a blog post or Christmas card. Of course they bicker and fight like siblings. Our house echos with "He hit me" and "She took my toy" but I have also seen such beautiful examples of love. Cara protects Isaac with a fierce passion. She reminds me often what Grace and Mercy look like lived out as she finds the right words to calm me down if I'm upset over another broken item or misplaced glove or accidental moment. If Cara is given a reward or a prize she is quick to split it with her brother or make sure he has something equally wonderful. Isaac shares his love with hugs that often seem to come out of no where but are always accompanied by "I wuv wu". 

I could not be more grateful for Bill. He is the most loving husband and incredible father. He never knows if he will be coming home to an exhausted Mommy or dance party in our rain boots (Isaac has become quite the fan of hosting "parties" in the kitchen). Regardless of the kind of day he has had,he comes home, dives in and loves on each of us. 

I am also continually thankful for each and every one of you that has reached out with a meal, a note, a text or "like" to let us know that you are cheering us on. Following God on this road has taken more than I knew I could give. Each moment of each day is it's own unique battle or victory. We could NOT have made it this far on our own. THANK YOU and THANK GOD for everything.

With Our Deepest Love,

Bill, Lauren, Caraline & Isaac

 

Summer Moments

Sometimes you just know you are living out a moment that you will remember forever. In these moments I like to stop and smell the air, close my eyes and listen to the sounds and then open them to gaze at my surroundings. I have a horrible memory so if I don't slow down and take it all in the moment might slip past me.

Isaac's first night at the beach was one of these moments. After all the adventures of learning to trust me and splash bravely in the waves I got to watch my children from across the campfire as they gobbled down hot dogs and laughed with their friends. As the stars came out and the sky grew darker it was so entertaining to watch them dig holes in the sand and explore the beach in the darkness.

We had another great moment a few Friday's ago that still makes my face light up when I think back to it. We were over a friends house for bible study and it had grown very late. By the time the kids came out of the playroom to join the adults for dessert (blueberry cobbler...oh how I love summer!) it had grown dark outside. I had taken the kids outside on the deck for several reasons 1) they were being loud 2) blueberry cobbler is very messy and stains when spilled 3) Isaac did not want their large dog to share his dessert.

We all sat down on the deck steps making yummy sounds as we enjoyed this special treat. It wasn't until the last bite was safely in our tummies that we looked up and saw them...lightning bugs! Thankfully, I turned off all the mommy alarms in my head (it's very late, the kids are sticky and over tired, we have somewhere to be early tomorrow..) and we dove into the fun of trying to catch them.

For Isaac it went like this: He would see their glow and run as fast as he could toward the spot where he believed the bug to be. He would grab frantically at the air and then come running back to me with palms wide open to show me his bug (which was obviously not still in his hand) then he would pretend to eat the bug and spin in a circle in squeal with delight about how funny it was to "eat" them.

For Cara it went like this: She would creep slowly through the grass with her hands wide open trying to track where the last glow had come from. I would pass the ones I captured to Cara and she would stare in awe as it crawled around her hand. I watched her whisper to them and then watch as they took flight and began to glow again.

After we successfully chased all the lightning bugs out of our friends yard the game changed to "find mommy." I would sneak away in the dark and crouch down in the grass and wait for Isaac and Cara to come running and tackle me in the grass. After a big tickle fight I would sneak away to hide again. This came quickly turned into "chase mommy" and then "mommy run and hold Isaac" and then "spin until we are too dizzy to stand." By the time we joined the others back inside we were sweaty, overtired and full of giggles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We weren't sure what to expect when we took Isaac to see his first fireworks. 4th of July is a big tradition for my family. We always go to Aunt Joyce and Uncle Steve's because you can see the fireworks from their pool. Growing up there was always a large party with lots of guests, food and family fun. When Uncle Steve passed away a few years ago it left a void in our family that was always felt strongest on the 4th of July. We weren't sure if the tradition would continue but as next generation began to grown in our family we have all found our way back to Uncle Steve's pool for the fireworks.

This year the fireworks were accompanied by a soundtrack of little voices as the cousins experienced the bright colors together...

"wow, that was the biggest one."
"oooo, that was the loudest one."
"Mommy! Why fireworks in the pool?!"
"Mommy! Why oooo   ahhh?"
"I want to touch firework"

By the end of the fireworks all 4 of us were packed into one chair and shouting out as our favorite colors lit up the sky.

However, for me the best part was the ride home. Cara sweetly fell fast asleep but not Isaac. He went on for 45 min about "Purple! Yellow! Green" and how they were "Up high in the sky" and a million questions about "why go boom?", "Why so high" He recounted the night by saying "Mommy, Isaac 'ooooo' 'ahhh'" Then we laughed to ourselves as we heard sounds from the back seat as he tried to mimic the sounds the fireworks made. When we asked him if he liked the fireworks he shouted "Yeah!" and started over with "Purple! Yellow! Green!".... all I could do was smile.

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This was also a great first for my kids....

A rope swing! It is fun when they can experience firsts together. They took turns all night long saying "Daddy/Mommy push me higher!" It was wonderful to watch them as they learn to take risks and trust us with each push. It was also encouraging to watch them include one another..."Your turn!" I'll let the photos speak for themselves here.

That Could Have Gone Better

Do you ever have those moments as a parent where you are hearing yourself and you know what you are saying is ridiculous but out it comes anyway?

"No one can touch each other ever again for the rest of your lives?!"

"No more speaking! We are done with words for now."

"Once was an accident but TWICE is too much! Clean that up or you'll never have milk without a lid again!"

I wish I could say I made these up, but those sentences actually came out of my mouth this week. All the while I heard laughter in my own head and a sweet voice reminding me "what if my grace for you ran out after you made the same mistake twice?" or "What if you came to me with a problem and I declared that I had already dealt with enough problems that day?"

Thank goodness for my Heavenly Father who reminds me constantly how much I need his grace and how important it is to share his grace with others, especially my kids.

It took the entire 45 min ride to my parents house (where my kids were having dinner so I could take a break) for me to come up with a list of positive things that had happened that day. As soon as I opened the car door to the back seat I got down on my knees, looked my kids in the eyes and listed off all the moments that I was thankful for that day. I hugged them, told them I loved them and then sent them to go have fun with Poppy.

I came home, had ice cream for dinner and sat down take a breath and listen to God. My kids hadn't listened to me once the ENTIRE day and I was spent. I felt invisible, ignored and insignificant. I realized that I hadn't been good at listening today either. I could feel God tugging at my heart all day but I was too caught up in my own parenting to listen to my heavenly father offering me advice too.

Okay Lord, help me try again tomorrow...

June 19th

This morning I awoke with a heart that was overflowing with emotion and yet totally at peace. This date on the calendar marks many things for our family. To call today a celebration of what God has done is almost an understatement. I feel a little bit like an academy award winner when I say that "all of the glory goes to God." That statement can be shared in a flippant way like "God bless you" or "I'll pray for you" but in this case the truth behind it simply cannot be ignored. ALL OF THE GLORY GOES TO GOD!

For those of you that own a copy of Jesus Calling, get it out and read the entry for June 19th (for those of you that don't own this devotional, go buy it! Mine is 8 years old and I keep going back to it). The title for today is "I Am The Firm Foundation." This could not be more true for Bill and I.

So what exactly are we giving him credit for? Everything!

10 years ago today, I married the most incredible friend I have ever had. In our ceremony the first thing we did after being pronounced husband and wife was not "kiss the bride." We stepped away from our ceremony and while a good friend sang beautifully to the audience Bill and I snuck away to pray thank God as our very first act as husband and wife. He is our foundation. It wasn't this act or anything else that we have done that has kept us together this long. My goodness, if it were up to us we would have messed this up long ago. We have had to fight hard against distractions, traditions and expectations to keep our eyes fixed on God and not our family, our jobs, our kids or each other. Following God with abandon has led us to this day and we are so thankful!

6 months ago today, our phone rang and then a big black van drove through the gates of African Village and officially brought Isaac home into our family. If you have read any of this blog you know that God's hands have been at work in every step of this victory for our family.

(see facebook for video)

6 months ago today was also Cara's 5th birthday and her wish of being a big sister finally came true.

Today marks Cara's last day of preschool. I cannot even begin to say what a faith step this was for us. We lost our referral for Simon on her first day of preschool in 2013. Everything in my broken heart wanted to drive back to Cara's school, snatch her up and never let go. I couldn't loose both my babies in one day (and for this emotional mommy, it felt that way). I had to trust that we had followed God and made the right decision by enrolling her at age 3. It felt too soon but God knew the timing was right. He had put her in Miss Vaughn's class and he intended for her to bloom there and she absolutely has. We could not be more thankful for all of the ways Cara has grown as a result of her time in preschool.

Today's devotion also had this incredible truth "Give up striving to keep everything under control--an impossible task and a wast of precious energy." I am so thankful for this message. As we enter yet another season of unknown(s) for our family it has been incredible to look back at all we have to be thankful for and also reminded that none of it was because of my/our control. Almost the opposite really, it is time times we have let go and trusted that we have been the most blessed.

The Next Unknown

The next Unknown

I just finished a beautiful devotion in a book designed for Moms who have said yes to the Fatherless. It was given to me by a mom who is a few years ahead of me in this process and I am very grateful to have words written that speak directly to this unique and perplex season I am in.

Tonights words spoke of the beautiful moment when you finally get to hold the child you have longed for, prayed for and sacrificed for. Both of your eyes fill with tears but for entirely different reasons. This picture of Isaac and I shows the moment well. I am so overwhelmed with the flood of love and emotions that have been contained for far too long and Isaac is cold and afraid. He doesn’t trust me…yet.

 If I think about the times that God has patiently waited, overflowing with love just waiting for me to trust him and yet I hit the snooze button and make him wait…again. Oh the unbearable season of waiting!  When I think about all that he sacrificed and the depth of love that would bring him to do that, it humbles me. God thinks I am worth it, even when I stand there numb and afraid of the next step. Even when I am so confused by my circumstances I barely remember He is there just waiting to love me. Yet, He waits some more and sacrifices some more because he knows that one day I’ll trust him. I will take his hand and follow him into the next unknown because I have learned that as long as He is guiding me, I will make it through.

Isaac and I recently had that moment. We took him to the beach for the first time. He was utterly confused by what we were describing to him. He could not understand why he was in his swimsuit but we were NOT going to a pool. He never considered there might be somewhere else to swim? How could he know? He was perplexed as he stepped on the sand and the ground underneath him moved. What was this squishy ground that looked like snow (which is what he called it at first) but wasn’t cold? Then Isaac saw the ocean itself and he no longer cared if the ground gave way underneath his weight or not, he just had to get to the water…(then he was momentarily distracted by the cars on the beach, don’t we all have things that appear to distract us right after we’ve had a break through?!)

 Once he finally arrived, Isaac had a love/hate relationship with the water. If he was holding my hand he was thrilled and never wanted to leave the endless splashing. “No bye, bye Mommy, No bye bye!” However, in the moments where he let go or attempted to enter the water alone he would fall and the waves would get deeper than he expected. What once felt safe suddenly was terrifying and he screamed as if the world was ending! That is until he looked up and took my hand. Instantly he would smile and pull me to go just a little father. He could do anything as long as he was holding my hand. He trusted me to get him through this next unknown and I was more than happy to never let go.

 

God is Not Like Mommy

As we manage to get out of the house more and more I have been so humbled by the number of people that ask me about this blog.  So many of you have read it faithfully and already feel like you know our sweet boy in a personal way. I could not be more thankful for all of your prayers and kind words. Many of you have encouraged me to keep writing, so here goes…

The days are so real now and they come one right after another like endless waves on the ocean shore. The waiting was hard, oh so very hard and God used it to break me, build me and strengthen my resolve. He used it to clarify and solidify this irreversible decision for our family. However, I realize now that even the unbearable season of waiting was just a baby step in a huge process of growth for me. It’s similar to the college experience in a way.  It was such an intense time of growing up for me. While I was going through it I felt overwhelmed at times and seemed to barely survive the roommates and the finals, but after I entered the “real world”, post degree, I suddenly realized that I had more free time in college than I would ever have again in my lifetime.

Perhaps it’s not the best analogy but it makes sense to me. You see college is hard and there are moments that stretched me further than I’d ever been stretched before. In fact there were times in the semester when it was the hardest thing I’d ever had to face…yet.

My “yet” is now changing for me on a daily basis. Sometimes I’ve barely had time to process the last “yet” moment and I find myself face to face with something even harder. The NEW hardest thing I’ve ever had to face.

I wish that I could say that I have always gotten it right. I wish I could say that I have remained in perfect peace like it says in Isaiah 26:3. The truth is that I have failed a lot. All the training and seminars in the world cannot prepare you for what it is like to love a complete stranger as if they were never a stranger at all. It is a beautiful mess of miracles and meltdowns.

Oh my sweet, sweet children. Please know that everyday Mommy does her best to love you unconditionally. Please know that even when I fail, God will never fail you.

I am so thankful for the grace that comes new with every morning (or every meltdown – mine or theirs). I know that even on the days I yell or lose my patience quicker than I would like, I am forgiven. It doesn’t change the wrong I have done but it does give me the chance to go to my kids with a humble heart and ask for a chance to try again tomorrow.

I confess that there are days when I discipline out of anger or exhaustion. When I hear the words coming out of my mouth (or the tone with which I am saying them) and somehow wish I could stop myself from saying another word. I send them into time out because we all need space and my heart races as I think “How did I get to this place again?”  I call it “scary mommy.” Sometimes I wonder if labeling it was a bad idea but at least it will give the kids something to tell their therapist one day. I choose that title because I saw it one day in their faces. Mommy needed a time out (which I took) and I would calmly come back and ask for their forgiveness, but I had scared them. I yelled louder than necessary. The moments and days that followed were a strange mix of beautiful intimate moments and times when the kids walked on egg shells around me. It killed me inside to know that I had to earn their trust again.

Everyday I learn how to love them a little better. I know which child needs a gentle word and which needs firm boundaries. I remind myself that setbacks are to be expected and no to take rejection personally. I celebrate small victories like the fact that Isaac can finally say “bus” with an “s” sound instead of a “t” sound. It always made us laugh but it made for awkward public moments when Isaac would excitedly shout “Mommy cool butt” instead of “Mommy, look a school Bus.”

I am also learning how to love myself better. I am learning when to let the guilt and shame go and simply ask my kids for a fresh start. I am learning how to ask for help and when to take a break. I am learning that saying “no” to opportunities is a good thing for our family right now and that it is okay to hang back and let someone else meet the needs in our community for a while. My world has both increased immensely and shrunk down all at the same time. Mommy means a lot more than it did just 5 months ago.

As often as I can remember I try to see the events of my day through a new filter that helps me see the triggers and the fears behind the behaviors. I offer "redo's" instead of a constant stream of "time out."

I am once again being stretched father than I ever thought possible. I look back on the rollercoaster of waiting and I think at least there were moments to regroup before the next wave hit... but mostly I find myself thankful (exhausted but thankful). Thankful for family and friends for facebook and Fridays. I am thankful for every smile and fresh start.

Thank you to everyone that asks how we are doing and waits to hear the stories, good & bad. I'll do my best to keep this window into our life open. I'm learning a lot and maybe someone else will benefit from my mistakes and victories.

 

 

 

 

In The Middle of My Marathon

We are quickly approaching the 5 month anniversary of meeting our sweet boy for the first time. As I prepare for mothers day this year I am a hot mess of emotions. For a long time now I have been trying to find a way to put it all into words or explain it in a way that might make sense to those around me. Then today as I crawled into bed for a moments rest it hit me that I am 5 months into the longest marathon of my life. I am not a "real" runner. I exercise on my treadmill while using netflix as a distraction so I apologize if this metaphor doesn't quite measure up but here goes...

Marathons are hard. You know they are going to be hard, that's why you train. However, training doesn't make them any less hard, it just gives you the skills, tools, strength and endurance you need to keep going and finish the race. I don't think anyone just magically floats through a marathon. Some of us make it look easier than others, but we all sweat.

There are all kinds of moments along the way while you are running. Some of them are beautiful. Moments when you get to encourage another runner, sometimes there is beautiful scenery along the way (if you can keep your breath long enough to look up and notice) and there are times when you just feel in sync with what is happening and all the training seems to have paid off. There are check points along the way, moments when you need to re-hydrate, pace yourself and refocus on how much race is left. Then there are moments when you have to push past the hard and somehow find a way to keep going. The further into the marathon you get the harder it gets to push past the difficult moments. Just when you thought you were through the hardest part you turn a corner and realize it's another uphill climb.

In my marathon there seem to be loops. Times when I say to myself "I'm pretty sure we just went through this, why are we here again?"

I see pictures online of friends who have finished their marathons and the stand holding their medals with hug smiles on their face. I know a lot of runners who keep their bibs as a record of the races they have one. It is a way to look back and say "I did that!"

Today I had to realize that I am still in the race. I am sure there were moments along the way when those smiling faces standing with their finish line medals were a little less smiley. There may have even been moments when they thought they weren't going to make it.

The marathon of being an adoptive family is long and tiring. It is filled with beautiful moments, like this past week when Isaac started understanding and using family words like "brother", "son", and "sister." Or when the house is filled with the sounds of my kids making each other laugh. However, I need to confess that I am struggling. The other night the kids were taking turns jumping off the back of the couch. It was priceless to hear Isaac try and count along with his sister. "One, two, three, two, nine, ten..bump!" (he's working on it). I thought to myself this is absolutely adorable, cherish this moment but I knew the look on my face only showed how tired I was, no matter how hard I tried to smile anyway.

Later that night as Cara was awake frightened by bad dreams and Isaac cried in the other room because he was congested and "ti-word" I thought to myself. "Why on earth did we let them stay up jumping on the couch? Now they are all riled up and it's nearly 10pm and we can't get them to sleep!" I was so angry. Not at them, but at the marathon. We were all exhausted. It just didn't seem fair. I let that same beautiful moment fuel my anger that what I needed was rest and what I was faced with was an even steeper uphill climb. Yet another difficult leg in my marathon.

In the end we got it all done. I laid and prayed with Cara about the unsettled feeling she had in her heart that was keeping her awake. I rubbed her back and stayed with her until she was in a deep sleep. An hour later as Bill was leaving Isaac's room for the tenth time that night I crawled in bed beside Isaac, too. He resisted at first because he too was angry that he couldn't sleep, but in the end he rested his head on my chest and said "Mommy rub" as I stroked his back. A half hour later he too was sleeping deeply. I tried to cherish his sweet head on my chest as I kissed him goodnight and crept back down the hall to my own bed.

The next morning I woke up early to pee and decided to spend some time with God. As I read the promises in Isaiah 40 for probably the 500th time I asked God to once again restore my weary heart so I could make it through another day. Instead I was met with stomach troubles and spent the morning face down on the powder room floor. As the last wave of sickness passed I looked up to see Cara standing outside the door wanting breakfast. "Really God?! Didn't I just tell you how weary I am?" So I poured the cereal and whisked the eggs and began another day. I pushed through the hard because my marathon isn't over.

We knew this would be hard, but just because we knew what to expect doesn't make it less hard. It's HARD!

It is hard when your son wakes up at 6am screaming and refuses to let you comfort him.
It is hard when he doesn't have the words to express the emotions that are raging inside him.
It is hard when a simple change in routine means having to explain the new plan 30 times in 10 min.
It is hard when you are parenting a child from a hard place who sees the world through a lens of fear.
It is hard when running late sets off triggers that only make you more late.

I could write you a list that would send even the most experienced parent running in the other direction. However, please know I am not complaining. Becoming an adoptive family has challenged us in ways I expected and ways I didn't expect. Each of us is being stretched in ways that will make us better. We are learning that together we can run farther and longer than we expected. We are learning that God meets you over quiet moments with coffee and when you are face down on the bathroom floor. We are learning how to live with less but how to love more. Nothing about this is BAD but it is very hard.

One of my favorite parts about marathons are the people along the sidelines. They are holding signs and stand in all kinds of weather to cheer on their loved ones for the brief moment that they pass them by. They are cheering and yelling and waiting anxiously for the moment when they can hug their loved one and say "you did it!"

Please know that this is very humbling to ask this, but I could really use an active cheering section.  It makes me feel weak and selfish to put it out there, but I have to believe that is a lie designed to keep me silent so I'll eventually give up. I am used to being the one that bakes the cookies and writes the notes. It is hard for me to admit that the hard days have left me feeling weary. Many of you have already come along side us in so many ways in this journey and I am forever grateful for all the people God has used to bring us this far. However, If you think of it, I am still in the middle of my marathon and I could really use a cheering section.

This past week my dad stopped by with a cup of coffee and some donut holes. He came to be my shoulder to cry on and I missed him by under a minute. Yet his simple note and sweet gesture left me unraveled in the best way possible. I cried through every sip of that coffee but I knew that I wasn't alone. It meant so much to me that he would stop what he was doing just to pop over and make sure I was okay.

I know there are bigger problems in the world and that you reading this right now might also be having a bad day and be in need of some encouragement. But I also know that I have been feeling a tug on my heart to reach out and let people into the story God is writing in our family. So I'm gonna be brave and say "I need you" and trust that God will do the rest.

Hope Heals the Heartbreak

The old saying "When God closes a door he opens a window" is really annoying to hear when you're going through the pain of loosing an opportunity your heart longed for. For the record so is "God has a plan" and all the other sayings that are absolutely true, but can feel really hurtful in the wrong moment. Thankfully, no one said those things to us when we experienced our first real loss as parents. I can still remember the pain of hearing we might not get Simon. I remember calling my good friend (who happens to be my Pastor and boss) and croaking out the words "we might loose Simon." It was the day before our Simon Says Sing Fundraiser that we had worked hard all summer to produce. I remember my neighbor taking Cara and I to Chick-fila so the girls could play and I would be distracted from waiting for the phone call.

Just after that we went on a family vacation and every time I look at those pictures I am reminded of how hard it was to enjoy the summer sun while part of me already knew.

Well, we finally found Simon's window.

A few weeks ago Simon's mother, Sharon, came back to the babies home. She has visited him a few times since he was born but it was my understanding that no one had heard from her recently. Sharon has recently found a decent home for herself and her health has improved. She came back to the babies home to seek out Simon. The babies home staff contacted us to let us know that they would be doing a home inspection, but they were considering granting her request to be reunited with Simon.

I am pleased to share that the inspection and interview went well and Simon is now home with his birth mother! Bill and I have agreed to take on all of Simon's expenses as a way to help make this a permanent solution for Simon. We will be paying for his food, clothing, toys, medical expenses and school fees. Ken and Cathy have agreed to help us with this by purchasing the items and directly delivering them to Simon for us. This means they will have regular contact with him and we will get updates!

I hope you will join me in regularly praying for Sharon and Simon. I am asking God to continue to protect Sharon's health so that she and Simon can have many long years together. I am also praying for protection over their home and safety. Lastly, please pray for Simon & the nannies as they transitions from 3+ years together at the babies home to sending Simon back into the loving arms of his mother.

Simon, Bill & Isaac on our last day at the babies home.

My Cup Overflows

People ask us constantly "how's it going?" At first, it was a hard question to answer. Things were good, we were tired. No one wants to hear about poop samples and parasites, but I told them anyway. We never want to be fake and pretend like parenting isn't hard.

I have spent a lot of time over the past several months bracing for impact. I fully expected this year to be the hardest year of my life. I think it still will be, but I never expected this year to also be the best year of my life. I have been completely taken over by the unlimited joy and gratitude we are experiencing. Everything I have read prior to traveling told me to dig deep and hold on to the reasons we began this process because it might be hard to remember why we wanted this after we were living it daily. I was warned about tantrums for the record books and days /nights when my pillow would seem like a distant memory. That's all true, but no one told me it would be this beautiful.

This week I have struggled to put into words the beauty of what we are living in right now.

Last night I was driving home late and thinking about what I was coming home to. I thought to myself "Abraham must have danced." We know that Sarah laughed because Isaac's name means laughter, but I bet they also danced. When you are living on the other side of waiting you almost feel weightless. After years of waiting on God's promise, praying for patience, crying out for the strength to find hope and continue believing in what is unseen...you are left speechless. The waiting is over. The promise is fulfilled and in front of you in a way you can touch and squish and kiss goodnight. It makes my heart delight in ways that I can't find words for.

This week as I listened to Christian radio and read the verses for each day I saw the theme of waiting. I thought of all of those days when I clung to those types of verses with a heavy and exhausted heart. I read those passages now and waves of gratitude come rushing. Somehow this remarkable promise, this impossible situation is now filling my days with laughter and joy. The finances we didn't have. The timeline we couldn't control. The ocean we had to cross. The endless waiting. It is all behind us.

This moment proved true this past Thursday. Isaac and I picked up Cara after school like we always do and we headed to the playground. The play yard was full of parents and kids enjoying the last few rays of afternoon sunshine before Friday's expected snowstorm (so much for spring!). I sat down on a bench off to the side of all the parents and just watched my kids play. One by one the other families left for this and that. Last year this would have been a sad day. Cara would have wanted to stay and play longer but she would inevitably become bored by herself and declare that we should "just go home." Not today. Even when we were the last family left in the yard I listened to the deafening sound of laughter. I watched as Cara shouted "Isaac try to catch me" and the both dashed off just thrilled with the chase. Isaac's little body can barely contain the joy he feels as he plays with his sister. As he gets more excited he begins to run on his tip toes and puff out his chest. His arms trail behind him like they just can't catch up with the joy that is pulling his heart forward. Sometimes I half expect him to just lift off the ground and fly right up to heaven. His eyes radiate a love and joy I have never known before. It is like he is glowing.

Cara is no different. As her hair whips around her face she laughs and squeals with delight. When she looks back and sees Isaac chasing her with his big toothy grin she giggles. She runs past me and just yells "Mom!" like she too can't come up with the words to express how much fun she is having.

After an hour or so Cara crashed under the play equipment to take a break from running. Not to be undone Isaac plops down right on top her her and smushes his face into her coat. "Isaac!" Cara says momentarily annoyed. "Oh, he just wants to hug you." I say. Again Cara is laughing as she gives him a big squeeze and he squeals. Then they just lay there in a pile of exhausted fun, nose to nose, smiling at each other. It's not long before a new game begins.

I have never seen two people who are more thankful for each other than Isaac and Cara. They both waited a long time for the other and neither one has forgotten what it is like to be alone.

Growing up I was the kind of kid who was lucky enough to realize I had it good. I would write letters to my teachers at the end of the year to thank them for inspiring me. I would write birthday cards to my parents with long messages thanking them for all they had done for me in the past year. I loved my brother and I cherished the times when we hung out as friends. When he went away to college I mourned the empty room across the hall. Still, I know I took a lot for granted. I look at Isaac and I see someone who would willingly walk through hell as long as we could all go together. He is teaching me how special it is to have a family. It is not guaranteed and it is not to be wasted. He would rather sit on the couch and watch me take a phone call then go off and play alone. To him nothing is fun unless there is someone you love to share it with.

We see it everyday when Bill comes home. When all four of us are in the same room Isaac just bounces with energy. He often calls for all of us and then grabs us all by the neck and forces us into a family pile on the couch. He LOVES group hugs and he doesn't let go. He just shouts "Mommy, Daddy, Ky-a" over and over. "Huggie! Huggie!"

If we are headed somewhere on the weekends, Isaac is the first to do role call. "Mommy car?" , "Daddy car?", "Cara car?", "Isaac car?" - Yes, Isaac we are all going together. He often repeats the line of questioning over and over until he is confident that we aren't splitting up. Yet this past Friday we were blessed with the opportunity for Mommy and Daddy to go on a quick date. Our neighbor and her daughter came over to play with Cara and Isaac. We explained it to Isaac over and over for two hours that we were just going somewhere to eat and we would be back to put him to bed. "No bye bye" He would say more as a question then anything else.  In the end he let us leave without any fuss. When we came home you could hear the laughter through the front door. The kids were at it again. At first Isaac couldn't see me behind Bill and there was a slight panic as he asked "Mommy?!" When I peaked my head around Bill Isaac yelled "Mommy!" and then immediately ran back to play. All he needs to know is that we are there and all is right with the world.

It is simply priceless. This week when people asked me how it was going it felt like "great" just wasn't enough. There are still moments that are hard. There are still times when I see Isaac begin to scratch at the back of his neck and I know he is anxious and unable to find words to express what has him upset. We still battle over the occasional meal, but we are living in a promise fulfilled and I see God's love overflowing in every detail.

I Scream, You Scream...

We all scream for Ice Cream....except Isaac :(

Today we took Isaac for the dentist for the first time. This prepared Mommy has been reading an Elmo book about brushing teeth and we spent half the morning on YouTube watching clips of every cartoon character imaginable going to the dentist for the first time. We even found an 8 min video by a pediatric dentists office walking kids through it step by step.

Yet all my attempts at preparing Isaac only got him through the door (barely). It was Caraline for the win with a little help from Nana. The three of us were a team cheering Isaac on as he discovered the dentists office. At first Isaac wanted no parts of laying down in a chair and having his teeth counted. We made jokes and tickled him but Isaac was still uneasy. Cara volunteered to have her teeth counted to show Isaac that the mirror was a cool way to see inside her mouth. That plus the promise of a sticker was all we needed to get Isaac to open up.

Talk of a treasure chest helped Isaac warm up to the idea of having his teeth brushed but it was Nana's suggestion to have Isaac smell the strawberry toothpaste that got him smiling. Cara held the toothpaste, Isaac sat on my lap and somehow the dentist was able to work with such a crowded chair. The hygienist gave Isaac his own spin brush and let him take turns brushing his teeth himself and then having her take a try. Before you knew it we had one smiley happy kid.

Dr. B has been such a great supporter of our adoption process this entire time. He has adopted grandchildren of his own and he could not wait to meet Isaac. It was a delight to visit with him and get a good bill of health on top of it all!

I was so proud of my kids that I suggested we visit the newly opened Pop Shop in Medford. Daddy and Poppy met us there and we enjoyed a wonderful dinner. We thought we would top it off with ice cream (because what's better to ruin your teeth than ice cream). Cara was thrilled, Isaac was not so sure. He did not like the cold of the ice cream but he clearly liked the taste. After several attempts with the result just dripping right back out of his mouth we thought we should try the cone. Bill broke off the tip and tried to get Isaac to eat it. Isaac looked at Bill like he was crazy and kept trying to put the broken tip back on the cone. If he knew how I swear he would say "Dad! You broke my cone!" We put it in his mouth but he wanted no parts of it. So much for a special treat to celebrate. I hope he appreciates the effort when we are at yet another doctors appointment tomorrow...

Trying to fix the cone.