Planning for Successful Summer Adventures

It's summertime again. The time when we all try to slow down, but it seems like the days speed by faster than we'd like. This is the time of year the our family looks for adventures to enjoy together. Living in a climate where it seems like we have six months of cold, we really treasure these long hot (or at least warm) days.

The other day, the kids and I went fossil hunting and...wait for it...we think WE FOUND A FOSSIL!

 Awesome? Yes.

Coincidence? Sort-of.

Adventures (as my kids like to call them) have a risk for not turning out as fabulous as planned. That's why I try to think of all the 'what ifs' before heading out with the kiddos, having a Plan A,B,C,D....Z ready ahead of time.

Little Man loves fossils. Baby B couldn't wait to find a 'dog bone' as she likes to call them (and to play in the dirt.) I was a little nervous since actually finding a fossil can be a bit like finding a needle in the proverbial haystack.

However, this wasn't the first time that we have gone fossil hunting at this particular location.

The last time we went fossil hunting was before Baby B had joined the family. Little Man, some of his cousins, and myself went out one HOT summer afternoon and sorted through lots of rocks and dirt. It was a risky proposition with a major chance of the entire outing being a bust. Initially I remember feeling frustrated that the kids weren't getting as serious about the whole fossil hunting mission as I was.

Then I realized that I had become that parent who helps their kid with their science fair project by doing the project themselves. Thankfully, this dawned on me before I had ruined the day for the kids. After talking myself down from my sad, type A, goal oriented, "LET"S HAVE FUN LIKE THIS" ledge, I realized something.

Finding a fossil wasn't the point.

 We were there for the adventure.

The challenge, the mystery, the imagining of what if, and 'what was it like here years ago' discussions. The heat, and the sweat, and the scraped knees, and the dirt. The 'remember that time we went looking for fossils?' stories that we shared later. The 'man, I'm sooooo thirsty...I wonder if this is how thirsty you feel in the desert?' questions.

Thankfully, we did find a fossil on that first trip. But, even if we hadn't, I had several things working in my favor to make it a successful adventure.

1. All of the kids loved playing in dirt/sand.

2. I had researched online about where and what we should be looking for.

3. We didn't have a long trek to get to the 'dig' site.

4. I could find some nice rocks for bordering my flower beds while we were there.

5. I had taken a year of geology in college because I thought 'why not, it would be fun' (and only slept      through some of the classes) so I kind of knew what to look for.

And my ace in the hole:

6. I planned to take them swimming afterwards whether or not any fossils were found.

On this most recent trip, we had success. The kids were able to wallow in the dirt AND we found what looks to be a fossil. Plus, I found some more rocks for my flower beds. Little Man and Baby B are hoping for many more adventures this summer. I have some ideas up and MANY backup plans. More importantly, I'm trying to keep in mind that for an adventure to truly be and adventure, there needs to be the element of the unknown. Maybe even a little danger.

ad·ven·ture

adˈven(t)SHər,ədˈven(t)SHər/

noun

1. 1.

   an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity.

   "her recent adventures in Italy"

   synonyms:

   exploit, escapade, deed, feat, experience "her recent adventures in Italy"

verb

dated

1. 1.

   engage in hazardous and exciting activity, especially the exploration of unknown territory.

   "they had adventured into the forest"

My job is to accentuate the unusual and exciting and eliminate (or at least minimize) the hazardous part of the adventure. This time, it turned out great. We'll see how our next adventure works out.

Here's to adventures guys. 'Tis the season.

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Our Adoption Story (A Second Look)

Today I'm excited to be participating in the first topic of the Adoption Talk Link Up. The first topic we are covering is “Our Stories.”

http://www.nobohnsaboutit.com/

I've written about our adoption stories before (you can read it here) but today I decided to go out on a limb and tackle how it felt when I adopted my oldest, Little Man (kind of a big deal for me so please be kind.)

Several years ago, I was part of a discussion with some other parents about our children's adoption stories. It was expressed by one of the parents that they wished their children had the fairy tale coming home story that many children being raised by their birth families had.

That really resonated with me. Adoption, to me, is the redemption of a deep tragedy. A testament that beauty can rise from the ashes.

At the time, I was being treated for Hodgkin's Lymphoma and was having trouble sleeping due to some of my medications. One night, after a day of chemo, this story poured out, a gift from God. I slept like a baby once I had finished it.  I hope to write down Baby B's story one day to share with her as well.

I've never shared our story in this way on the blog before. It's meant too much, and seemed too precious and sacred to share. It was never the right time.

Until now.

There you go! If you have an adoption story to share please feel free join the link up and check out some of the other blogs here, to get started.

~ Aleah Bea

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Staying Motivated with Your Resolutions

Soooo, how are those resolutions working for you? If you remember my post from the beginning of the year, I am trying out new year's resolutions for the first time in 2015. I was apprehensive at first, but I decided that it was worth a shot.

You know, YOLO and all of that good stuff.

One of my mini goals was exercising twice a week. As I have been working towards that goal, I have recruited a surprising workout buddy-my three year old.  She loves to work out. The one (yes, one) day that I worked out in 2014, I did Pilates with my sister and our kids. Baby B spent the entire workout climbing over, on top of, and under me while I attempted planks, child poses, and downward dogs. Her favorites were when I kissed her nose every time I went down for a push-up. Little Man has even joined in a time or two (although he much prefers when we do Tae Bo).

Initially, I found this adorable, but a little frustrating. Then I decided that the added challenge of a three year old using me as a jungle gym was just upping my work out difficulty level. Full contact Pilates if you will, or high impact (and I have the cut lip and back pain to prove it.)

Needless to say, I think that I'll start doing my workouts while the kids are in bed. However, I may still do some workouts while they are awake (bonuses, if you will). It's good for my kids to see me exercising, and it's fun to have them working out with me. I just need to lay my 'goal minded' expectations aside when we are working out together.

Now for the real question I know you're asking yourself, "That's all well and good, but have you worked out twice a week this month?" Nope. But I did this week. Surprisingly, working out is starting to feel fun for me and that my friends, is HUGE.  When I have fun doing something, I want to keep doing it (don't we all). Plus, by recruiting my kids as my personal trainers, I have a built in reminders that I couldn't escape if I wanted to.

It's all about changing our mindset. Baby steps, my friends. This is the year. We can do it!

I'll update you on my progress with my other resolutions in the days to come.

-Mama Bea

A Holiday Message from a Broken Family

Dear Friends and Strangers,

I don't want to be a downer. Normally, I love the time from Thanksgiving until New Years. I love Christmas music, I love planning out the delicious treats that I am going to make, and finding just the right gifts. I love finding ways to give to others at this time of year-to those who are struggling and might need a little bit extra.

It looks like we will be the ones struggling this year.

Last year at this time, our family was still reeling from the unexpected death of my father. He passed away the day after his birthday of a massive heart attack on the way home from work.

It was tough.

Eleven months passed, and we started the twelfth. As the end of October approached, we held our breaths. All of the birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, vacations, and seasons, had been survived. This was our new normal and we could do this. My brother (the one who had been with my dad when he died) and his wife were expecting a baby any day, surely a sign of better things to come for all of us.

Then, just days before the anniversary of my dad's death, my brother and his wife lost their newborn baby girl. Two weeks later, one of my younger brothers died in a car accident. To say we are devastated doesn't even begin to describe how we feel.

We will never be the same.

Our fractured lives will slowly be put back together, but there have been pieces that are beyond repair. No amount of 'glue' will put things back to the way they were. I did not know that it was possible to feel so broken. It's as if the floor has disappeared from under our feet and we are in a free fall.

Coming from a large family, each of us is processing our grief in different ways. Collectively, we have lost a spouse, father, grandfather, brother, uncle, fiance, niece, daughter, grand daughter, big sister, and cousin-all in just over a year.

Never in my life have I felt so completely broken.

One of my students asked me if our family was cursed. Sometimes, it's tempting to feel that way. Thankfully, I was raised to know the difference between God and Santa. Santa is the one that brings us what we want, then leaves. God is the One who is there with us even when life hands us what we would never want.

As I sit at night, still trying to digest this truth that feels so much like a nightmare, I cling to Jesus. God hears and feels our pain (Psalm 22:24). When Lazarus died, Jesus wept (John 11:35). We just need to look up to him.

Little Man and I have been reading the Chronicles of Narnia books recently. I was surprised that the book would have anything that might help me in my grief, but it did. The lion (Aslan), represents God.

I've had to remind myself that being a Christian doesn't make us exempt from pain and trials. It doesn't make our lives a guaranteed success. The Bible doesn't say, "Follow me and I will make you really successful, wealthy, and make sure you never have tragedy in your life." (Even though sometimes in today's culture it feels like that is what we are being told.)

Our family is not the only broken family working our way through this holiday season. There are other families out there who are facing situations that have broken them as well. Addictions, betrayals, divorce, joblessness, disease, hunger, abuse. We might not be able to see it when we meet them on the street, but they too are feeling the fragility of life. Putting one foot in front of the other. Praying for a dreamless sleep at the end of another tough day.

I still love Christmas. I want my children to enjoy and celebrate the true meaning of this time of year. But in my new brokenness, it will be done in a quieter, gentler way than I've ever celebrated it before. It's the 'holidays.' A time for gathering together and sharing with one another.

As you celebrate with the one's you love, say a prayer for the broken families. And, if you're one of us, know that I will be saying a prayer for all of you as well.

"You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? " Psalms 56:8

"For he has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and he has not hidden his face from him, but has heard when he cried to him." Psalms 22:24.

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace, In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33







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Fatherly Behavior

Those of you who know me, know that I am raising Little Man and Baby B 'on my own.' (Alone, I guess, if you don't count the support structure of carefully vetted friends and family that I have surrounded us with.) According to statistics, the chances for a bright future while having no father may not be as bright for them as for those children being raised in a two parent home. I know that, so please don't feel the need to comment on that fact after reading this post. I will just delete your comment. We plan on ignoring the statistics. Now that we've taken care of that, shall we continue?

It is quite common to hear the term 'motherly' being used. Ironically, we don't use the term 'fatherly' used as often. Think about it, people will often refer to a little girl as acting 'motherly' but when a little boy is acting in a nurturing manner, we don't automatically say that he is acting 'fatherly.'

I think that's too bad.

Boys need to learn about what it means to be a father just as much as girls need to learn what it means to be a mother. Nurturing and supporting others is one of the most important things we can teach a child.

On this Father's Day, I celebrate the father that was part of my for nearly 39 years. If anyone modeled fatherly traits, it was him. The man who worked hard to not only support his family financially, but also took the time to really love his children and his wife. The man who rarely, if ever, raised his voice. Whose life demonstrated what integrity, honesty, and kindness should look like. The man who was a father/mentor/grandfather to many young boys and men through the years. The man who taught Little Man so many of the things a father would have wanted to teach him. Some of those things I thought Dad was showing Little Man at too young of an age. Now I'm thankful for those lessons he gave him.

I celebrate the dads out there who aren't afraid to show their children their silly side. Who aren't afraid to let their kids see them cry. The fathers who are a firm, kind, stabilizing force in their families. Those dads who stay with their families even when things get tough, and scary, and uncomfortable. Who are 'fatherly.'

I celebrate those men who are mentors to the children who have no father around in their life. The men who help the children without dads learn how to treat a woman, and how a woman should be treated. Who are nurturing and supporting without conditions-just out of the goodness of their heart. The men who help balance out the life of these children, whose days are so often filled with only the influence of women. They really need both.

I celebrate my Father in heaven, who promises to be there for the widowed and the orphaned. Who will help me to navigate this thing called parenting. To be there for me when I am aching so to hear my dad's voice (just one more time) as he cracked a lame joke with my son, then winked at me as he waited to see if Little Man had caught it.

For those of you who still have a father here on earth, I pray that he is one that brings you that kind of love and happiness. For those of you who don't have that kind of relationship with your father, my heart aches for you. I pray that there is someone in your life who has filled that void. And, if there isn't, I know there is a God who has been waiting for years to fill the position.

Happy Father's Day.



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The One Million Words Project

Little Man had his last day of second grade today. It's crazy to me that he is growing up so fast. He himself will gleefully tell me that he has only eight years (okay 7 1/2) until he can get his drivers license. Yikes. Time is passing too quickly. Way to soon, my kids will be thinking I am just another adult who doesn't know half of what they know. Gone will be the days when I am "funny, cool...the best mom ever."

When I think back to my childhood, some memories stand out more than others. My dad playing practical jokes. My mom dancing with us to records in the living room. Having squirt gun fights with my siblings in the summer (where, inevitably someone would always end up crying).

What will my children remember from their childhood? What things do we do as a family now, that will make them smile looking back years from now (even when they are teenagers and can't admit it out loud)? What words can I give them that they will carry with them and share with their children?

So, I've come up with a plan. Actually, it's been rolling around in my head for a least a couple of months and I finally feel like I the idea has crystallized. Rather than crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, I've decided to be proactive.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. My goal is to give my children the gift of a visual history of some of those big and small things that we share as a family. Trips, puddle jumping, fishing, taking walks, etc. Memories fade, but photos can be a nice reminder. I plan on recording some of my thoughts for them as well. Written accounts of things that they've said, or moments that were precious to me. Similar to the adventure book that was in the movie "Up".

AlbumOptions/Etsy.com  

A gift for them now and in the future.

I started the project June 1st, and will periodically post my photos on Instagram, Twitter, and here on the blog. Will I finish the project over the summer? Probably not. But I'm determined to leave a visual legacy for my kids to reinforce the lessons and memories we will be sharing along the road of life.

Who would like to join me? If you would like to share a moment from your own family story, you can share it on my Facebook page, or you can find me on Twitter:  @JustMamaBea.

Remember..."Adventure is out there!"



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8 Tips for the Strong Willed Parent

I was what people call a 'strong willed' child. I knew what was expected of me and would behave appropriately in public (most of the time). At home however, it was a different story.

My poor parents. I know that many of their gray hairs have my name on them. They told me when I was out of college that they seriously wondered if I would survive to adulthood (yep, that bad).

The ironic part of all of this is that I am now raising not one, but two strong-willed children. Each one has their own strong-willed tendencies. This doesn't mean that they are bad children. They have definite leadership potential. They are loving, sensitive, creative kids. Thankfully, the battles they each pick aren't the same ones. Usually, they aren't at the same time either.

The funny thing is, at the end of a day full of battles, my kids aren't the problem...I am.

Being a former strong willed child, part of me wants to pull on the gloves when I sense conflict. I think the word that my mom used to use for it was being 'ornery' or 'contrary'.  You say yes? Well then, my answer must be 'no'. Try to back me into a corner decision wise...I'll come out fighting.

I know, it makes no rational sense and is completely juvenile. In most adult situations, I can mentally talk myself down from this mindset. With my kids however, I have the added piece of 'Hey, I'm the grown-up here. Just obey me now, okay?' My kids know exactly which buttons to push to get me going. The last thing they need is a mom who is playing a headbutting game of wills over ridiculous things, just for the sake of having my own way.

So, what's a parent to do?

I've narrowed it down to eight things for myself.

1. Admit that I have a oppositional streak. Ask myself "Is it really the kids picking the battle, or am I just in a 'mood.'"

2. Take a break. Don't discipline until I can do so calmly and rationally.

3. Look back to look forward. I was a strong-willed child and I turned out okay. I just need to work the rest of my strong willed 'kinks' out. What did my parents do to help me turn into a successful adult.

4. Make a research project out of it. I've been trying to figure out what things are triggers for me, and what my children's triggers are.  If it helps to avoid conflict in the long run, it's worth it.

5. Laugh a little. Talking to other formerly strong willed children (and parents) helps a ton. Not only does it help me to be able to laugh a little at my struggles, but suddenly I no longer feel so alone in this journey. Plus, most of us have at least one strong willed child so we have a lot a stories to share.

6. Take care of myself. The better I eat, the more I sleep, and the more I move the better I parent. Remember how crabby you would be the day after Halloween as a kid when you were coming down from your sugar rush and had gotten to bed too late? Enough said.

7. Admit defeat. Sometimes I will be wrong. I will make the wrong decision. I will jump to the wrong conclusion and I need to tell my kids those two words, "I'm sorry." It's not a sign of weakness, it's a sign of strength and it's something that my children need to see me model.

8. Pray for wisdom and discernment. God will point out to my flaws and weaknesses if I ask him. I might not always like what I discover but it's worth it.

Becoming a parent didn't mean that I automatically had all of the answers. Boy, was that disappointing to discover! But, being a parent does mean I need to be the best that I can be so that I can help my children become their best. To do that I need to take care of my strong willed tendencies, so that they don't raise their ugly head during the sometimes stressful journey of raising two amazing human beings.

I think I am up for the challenge. Remember...I'm kind of strong willed. ☺



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When Peace Like a River

Much of my life these past few months has felt like I have been walking upstream in chest deep water. With spring coming, I had thought that the pain of the loss of my dad would have lessened by now. Instead, I find the sadness welling up again at unexpected times. I catch my breath as a sharp stab to my heart reminds me that my dad is gone.

There are supposed to be five stages of grief and I guess I am somewhere along that journey right now. I'm not angry or in denial. I just know that I still miss my dad. I've reached the point where I can actually talk about memories of him and not always want to cry. I have resorted to indulging on some of my hardest days (mainly on coffee, chocolate, and granola bars, but not usually all at once). I don't want to numb myself to the pain.  I lost my Dad-his memory should be grieved.

I try to remind myself that there are others on similar journeys, for the river of grief is rarely walked completely alone.

My children have suffered the loss of their birth parents and birth culture, at an age where they will not have the comfort of loving memories. Other's in my life have suffered the loss of children before they ever had a chance to meet them. Some are grieving the loss of a dream, a future that will never be their's or the diagnosis of an illness.

It's good to remember that struggle is happening in the lives of others, even in the midst of our own pain. As hard as it is to do, I believe if we reach out to others we could help each other as we work through it.

Sorrow is an experience that is touches all of us. It rarely makes sense. While never welcomed, it brings a certain complexity and tenderness to our lives if we allow it.  Instead of our lives having the simplicity of the song 'Chopsticks' it becomes more like a piece by Tchaikovsky.

Oswald Chambers once said, "If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart." So as I walk through this period of brokenness, I pray that His purposes are brought to pass through this struggle knowing that God will carry me through.

This old hymn really says it all.

It is Well With My Soul by Horatio G. Spafford

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Refrain

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

Refrain

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

Refrain

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

---

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One Year Ago, I Met My Daughter

One year ago, Little Man and I traveled to Haiti to meet Baby B for the first time (check out those posts here, here , here, and here). Although she has only been home since September, it already has started to feel like she was always here (in a good way! ☺) The smiles come more easily these days, the tears are less. Lately, she only wants her mama when other people are around...and I love it! 

So much has happened in a year. I thought you'd like to see some of our highlights.

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Wishing for Spring

We've had a warm streak around here lately. It's been so warm (up to a steamy fifty degrees!) that the kids are outside at recess without their coats on. I know, I know, fifty degrees isn't that warm in most places, but when you've had a winter of -40, it feels positively muggy.

Thankfully, the warmer days are starting to melt the piles of snow. There are even a few places where you can see patches of grass.

When my dad was still alive, this kind of weather would get both of us all excited. For us, melting snow has always meant two things. 1.) get out the shovels and channel the water off of the gravel drive. 2.) Start raking some of the snow banks down so that they melt faster.

Yep, kind of lame, but it always worked for us. When I was kid, us kids would be floating various objects down the rivulets of water my dad created in his quest to dry off the driveway. Now, Little Man and Baby B will be following in my footsteps, while I follow Dad's.

Some would say it's an exercise in futility. That it really doesn't make enough of a difference to warrant the amount of time, and effort we put in to the process. That it's much too early to be thinking that the snow will melt any time soon (at least where we live.)

They are probably right.

Dry driveway, here we come. Now where did I put the rake and shovel?



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What's So Different About Adoptive Parenting

03/12/14 I have clarified one point at the end of this post.

There are an increasing number of families being formed through adoption these days. According to the website statisticbrain.com, there were 1,782,000 adoptions as reported by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services in April of 2013.

Our beautiful Scandinavian, Ethiopian, Haitian family was formed through adoption. But, when you look at our family, I don't want that to be the focus of what you see. We are not the poster family for adoption.

We are a family, period, end of story.

*A quote from Dr. Karyn Purvis' video, "Attachment: Why It Matters" sums up the way I feel. Dr. Purvis is the director of the Institute of Child Development at TCU University, a group which focuses on helping children who have joined families through adoption or foster care. It says, "Adoptive parents become the biological parents through connection. We change their biology."

It  is good to have an awareness and sensitivity to individuals and families affected by adoption (including birth parents). I feel, however, that it's equally important to breath a little sometimes and let kids be kids regardless of their birth history.

So, do me a favor. Please do not watch and analyze every move my children (and I) make to see if they are having attachment difficulties. To determine if they are 'you know, all adjusted and happy and stuff.'  You see, sometimes life is just life. When my children feel sad, sometimes it is because of their rough start in life, and sometimes they are just, well...sad. Same for tantrums. More often than not, Baby B is just having a tantrum, nothing more.

If I see a child having a fit in a store, I don't sit and analyze the situation ("Gee, I wonder if that child is attaching well to their family...")  Why should my children be treated any differently?

When Little Man started school, some of the difficulties he encountered were because of his early years in the care center. Nap time in preschool was a nightmare. Forget the learning the ABC's. Kindergarten was a year that just getting used to school being a safe place was all that he could learn.

Some of the projects in school (like those lovely family tree and 'timeline of my life' projects) break my heart as I try to help Little Man navigate through them. At those times I feel very strongly our 'different-ness' from families formed solely through biology. As a teacher, I feel blessed that I have opportunities in my day for educating children and fellow teachers that adoption is just another way to form a family.

If my children were old enough to articulate themselves this well, I think they would agree with Carl Jung when he said, "I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become."

So no, my life and my children's lives are not dominated by the fact that our family was formed through adoption-except those times when it is.

**To further expand on the idea presented in the quote, the research done by The Institute of Child Development goes on to say:

"You are the biological parent, for you are shaping the biology of their brain."  

Let me be clear. This is not to take anything away from the biological parents of the child. It's not a change in the DNA. It's a nature and nurture issue.

 A matter of neurological brain development. 

The nature is the development that went on in utero and the genetic make up that makes them who they are. Any child whose birth family ultimately had to make the tough decision to place their child out of their care comes from a tough start. The stress of making that decision has effected the brain development, the neurological synapses, even before the child is born.  

 That's when the nurturing of the adoptive or foster parent(s) comes in. Brain development does not stop after birth. It continues throughout one's lifetime. To again quote from The Institute of Child Development,  "Secure relationships can promote new brain growth and biologically improve a child's ability to regulate his or her emotions and behavior." Parents have the opportunity to create an environment where proper attachment, and the creation of a 'safe place' can help the child to not only feel safe but to 'make up for' some of the gaps they have due to their tough start. Just as a person who has suffered the trauma of a stroke can still retrain their brain, so too can a child who has suffered early trauma in their life. It may be difficult, and it won't erase what they have gone through in their past, but there are still opportunity to have new brain growth.

The quote, when taken out of the context that it was stated, is confusing. My hope was that people would click on Dr. Purvis' name and find out more about her research or already be familiar with the work that Dr. Purvis and The Institute of Child Development. 

Yes, I do know that adoption does not change genetically who my children are (I wouldn't want it to.) Of course our children's biology cannot (and should not) be changed. 

I have provided a link to a trailer for a DVD that has recently been put out by Dr. Purvis and The Institute of Child Development about the  importance of attachment:  Attachment: Why It Matters  Dr. Purvis also has co-authored the book The Connected Child.  That book and the training that I took part in through my adoption agency, has been really helpful for our family. It is a book that I feel would be a helpful parenting tool no matter how a child joined a family (whether through birth, adoption, or foster care.)

 The Myth of the First Three Years by John Bruer also talks about neurological brain development throughout a person's lifetime.

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Looking Towards the Future

Do you remember making fortune tellers in school? I hadn't really thought about them in years, but the students in school are big on making them right now. We had a fun night at the school a couple of weeks ago and I, appropriately enough, had crafts going on int my room. I had paper cut for origami and a couple of really simple projects.

Unfortunately, all the kids wanted to make were fortune tellers.

Little Man likes making fortune tellers as art pieces. Each one is progressively smaller, then he stacks them all up. (Those are some of his creations in the picture above.)

It's funny how even at a very young age we want to know the future. We like to think that we can plan out our path, imagining our perfect life. When I was little I thought I would be a cute little cheerleader like my mom had been. I outgrew that dream (literally) by fifth grade. 

I apparently wasn't that quick of a learner though because I continually tried making plans for my distant future for years. Pretty much all of them fell through. Not that that is a bad thing. My childhood (or teen or twenty-something) hopes and dreams were limited in their scope. I didn't know then what I would need in my life in the future. I just thought I knew.

Finally, I started to let go of my plans, my need for control, and let life happen. As soon as I did that, God started giving me back my dreams one by one, in ways I had never expected. The life I envisioned for myself was much smaller than the life I have now. 

God's vision for my future is much greater than my own. (Imagine that!) The highs have been higher and the lows have been lower than I ever thought that I would experience. God truly does know me better than I know myself. 

What will my future hold? Only God knows...but Little Man can make me a fortune teller if I want to take  any wild guesses. ☺

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Toddler Adoption: Things I've Learned

I had almost forgotten what it was like bringing home a toddler. Little Man has been home five years. Five years is a long time. Plus, Baby B is almost a year younger than Little Man was when he came home. What a huge difference a year makes! I feel like God gave me Baby B to show me that I had a lot to learn.

However, a few things have helped me through both adoptions.

Prayer 
There will be hard days. Days when both you and your child will be crying, or angry. That is a given. There may even be some days that you find yourself wondering if you've made a huge mistake. Nights when you will lie awake with all of the worst case scenarios running through your head. When you wonder if things will ever feel normal again. I'm here to tell you they will. Pray. God will help you through it. Still feel stressed and overwhelmed? Pray some more.

Patience 
Your child will test your limits in more ways than you ever knew was possible. They will find every one of your buttons and push them. Or your child will remain distant despite all of your attempts to enter their quality world. Take a deep breath. Keep trying. Talk out loud to yourself if they don't want to communicate with you. They ARE listening and watching and learning. This is the infant stage of your relationship. Give it time to grow. Baby steps.

Perseverance
Some days you will want to give up. Your child, the one you prayed for, and waited for may be sad/angry/distant/fearful/etc.and you secretly fear it will last forever. You will feel wounded. Why does your child not love you? Why are they not responding? Never give up. Be the constant in their life. Be consistent. Things are changing. You are tough. You've come this far and you're in it for the long hall. Press on.

Play 
Find ways to play. Laugh together. Get creative finding ways to encourage face to face interactions.Paint or put stickers on each other's faces. Throw a ball back and forth. Toss a balloon around your living room. Hop through mud puddles. Go to a children's museum. Take a road trip. Form memories together as a family. This is huge. The more history you share, the more you will begin to feel like family and the more your child will feel like they belong.

Prune Juice (or popcorn or hot dogs...)
Your toddler may have food issues during the transition. What your child was supposed to like so much, may just be a reminder of the orphanage now. Food now tastes different, smells different, it may even have a different consistency. Both Little Man and Baby B had foods that went from being favorites to being something that they could barely stomach.

Keep trying, be creative.

Baby B recently decided that she no longer cares to drink water during the day. Or go 'number 2'  (Which, if you think about what being dehydrated does to you, who can blame her.) After two weeks of misery on both of our parts, I decided to pull out 'the big guns'. Yep. Prune juice and popcorn. Plus, oatmeal, and lots of fruit and veggies. No bowels can resist that combination.

Toddler adoption can be tricky and very tiring at times. But it's worth it.

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"Other People's Children"

Once, about ten years ago, someone told me that she thought it would, just be so sad if I never had kids "of my own" and "just took care of other people's children." The statement really rubbed me the wrong way. At the time, I was working at a middle school and loving my job. I was content with my current life situation, and I was offended by the idea that a life without children would somehow be seen as less worthy of a life. (Does making a difference in the life of a child only count if you are that child's parent? I don't think so.)

Just the other day, remembering that statement from years ago it got me thinking.

I am now the mom of two, and a teacher. I spend my workdays pouring myself into the life of the students that I work with and trying to save some part of myself for my own children when I am at home. I take my job very seriously and try to honor the trust parents have placed in me, as their child's teacher.

There is a danger I have found, however, in losing too much of myself at work. In putting so much of who I am into "other people's children" that I don't have enough for my kids. Not even close. The majority of the time, I feel like I am in a race from Monday through Friday. I know as a parent I am not unique in feeling this way.

However, am I treating my own children as well as I treat 'other people's children.'

With other people's children, I tend to be on my best behavior. I greet them with a smile, and a "how are you today?" I get down on their level. I play with them. I take the time to ask them about things that would be important to them. I don't immediately get after them if they are misbehaving. If I do feel the need to step in, I use restraint in my tone and manner. A certain amount of diplomacy is always necessary when redirecting children that are not your own. I approach them gently, kindly, but firmly giving choices and consequences. I try to make them feel respected, listened to, and important. Always conscious of the fact that they are someone's baby.

How often do I come home, barely paying attention to my own children as they vie for my attention?

Is my voice always kind? Do I get down on their level to listen to them, or do I ignore them? Do they feel important and listened to? Are they redirected gently but firmly. Are the choices and consequences clearly stated so they know their boundaries and aren't surprised when they get in trouble? Do I remember on those crazy hectic days, that Little Man and Baby B are MY babies?

I'm sure that you can guess the answer to these questions.

I have spent years trying to find the best way to reach the students I work with. Studying formally, and informally different methods to maximize learning and bring out the best in each child. Unfortunately, some days I feel like I am a pretty good teacher, and just an O.K. mom. I would like to change this. Permanently. I need to remember that teaching is my job, not my life. It's time to start 'studying' my own children and finding out the different ways to bring out their best. In fact, that is something that I have been working on during the past few weeks. That's why I've been a bit absent from blog-land. I've been noticing a change in my kids (and myself) already.

So, while I am no longer caring just for other people's children, I've decided that I am going to try to take care of my children as if they are exactly that. Make sense? ☺



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Little Man's Mama

I wasn't surprised when I received my referral for Little Man. The agency had made it clear that, being a single female, I would in all likelihood receive a referral for a toddler boy. Little Man was nearly three when we flew home from Ethiopia. Although there was a definite transition period, being a mom to my little boy seemed to fit like a glove.

Growing up, I was a bit of a tomboy. I loved hanging out in the garage with my dad while he worked on different pieces of heavy machinery. I clearly remember sitting on a large Skidder tire eating bean with bacon soup and tuna sandwiches with my dad, thinking 'This is the best!" Climbing trees, playing in mud, riding bike through puddles, playing tag at night...I loved them all.

All of these experiences made me very comfortable with the idea of raising Little Man on my own. I figured if any single mom was ready to raise a boy, I was.

Once the initial transition period was over, I started on my mental list of  'things that most little boys would like to know how to do, and their dad's would normally teach them.' I didn't want Little Man growing up not having the opportunity to do all those boy things. I know, I know not all boys like the same things, and some people would argue that there are no such things as 'boy things'.

Those people apparently haven't met Little Man.

He came wired and preset to 'manly'. An "I take care of that for you" kind of guy. A statement he made when he was three and just learning English  really says it all.  "Mama, if you get cow...I will cut it for you. It takes many mans to cut cow." Yes, you read correctly. Although a bit shocking by our standards, Little Man had witnessed a cow being butchered and wanted to help provide meat for his new mama.

I have made it my job these past five years to support, foster, and champion those activities that Little Man enjoys. Some of the activities I enjoyed to start with, and some I have (ahem) had to acquire a taste for.

Catching frogs and salamanders. Check.
Climbing trees. Check.
Riding bike through mud puddles. Check.
Cooking over an open fire. Check.
Soccer. Check.
Reading nonfiction. Check.
Holding snakes. O.K., if I have to, check.
Random science experiments. Check.
Fishing. Check.
Belching. Ahem, check.

I've loved being Little Man's mom even more than I expected I would. God knew we would be a good fit. Now that Baby B, our little princess, has joined our family it will be fun to see how the two personalities will balance each other. 

I wonder how Little Man feels about tea parties? 


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Love is Sacrifice

My mom was a little ticked at me this week. I pulled an all nighter to get caught up on some things around the house. Oh, and she also wasn't pleased that I get up at 4:30 every day just to get out the door on time. I believe her exact words were, "You have to take care of yourself!" I reminded her that mom's do what they have to do for their children.

There are just too many hours in the day and sometimes I have to get caught up. I get up early during the week so that I can get all of the 'necessary' stuff done before Little Man and Baby B get up for the day.

In order for me to be the best mom that I can be for them, I have to make some sacrifices. One of those being, sleeping less. Working in the wee hours of the night (or day) gives me some time to be alone with my thoughts and with God. I can get the laundry done, the dishes, pack all the lunches, set out everyone's clothes for the day, and just be alone.

Enjoying the silence.

Loving them means not whining about how little sleep I got the night before (at least not around them). Not keeping track of the noses wiped, clothes washed, or lunches made. It means spending hours reading books on reptiles, and watching shows about various animals. Playing with dolls, and doing 8 piece puzzles (over and over and over again). It means having a listening ear and a smile ready when Little Man and Baby B are trying to 'out talk' each other in the back seat of the car.

Trying to hand out more smiles of encouragement, than frowns of disappointment on any given day.

It's not about me anymore. It's about making choices, and sacrifices, that will help them to become the very best human beings that they can be. Children are called "dependents" for a reason. My children depend on me to help them navigate their way through life. Truly loving them means I don't blame them (or resent them) for acting like kids, when that's what they are! 

Even when I'm tired.

I am very excited for the weekend. I hope to get some sleep, and relax a little. But if I don't, I will remember that this is what I signed up for and try to enjoy every minute of it. I will substitute calming breathes for tired sighs. (And maybe I'll make some more coffee). ☺ 

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Like Mother, Like Daughter (or Son)?

Little Man and Baby B couldn't be less like me.

Little Man is a total athlete. He can assess most physical activities, and master them in a short amount of time. The same could not be said for me. I was the child who dreaded gym class.I could not do a tripod. Little Man has been doing headstands since he was four or five. I honestly used to think about ways I could accidentally get a minor injure me and thereby be saved from swim class, or...well you fill in the blank. If it is an activity that you do in gym class, I probably dreaded it.  I was tall and lanky for my age, and lacked any athletic skills.

 My senior year in high school I finally developed coordination, but by then I was done with all of my P.E. requirements so it really didn't help me much.

Baby B is super dramatic. Let me say that again. S-U-P-E-R dramatic. I have never witnessed a child her age that could pull off such an amazing fake cry. She can fake being asleep so that she will be left alone in a room to have unsupervised fun. Always a good time. I was a member of the drama club in school, but never made it on stage-even for a non speaking role. I tried out a couple of times, but apparently I was so bad they didn't even want my presence on the stage distracting the other actors. Yikes.

I have resigned myself to the fact that in many ways my children are completely unlike me. However, Little Man is developing a love of reading to rival my own. Baby B can play make believe for hours, just like I used to do. They both have tempers like, ahem, me. We all like to laugh. Most importantly, we love each other.

My children are forcing me to grow beyond where I would be without them. God knew I needed them in my life.

I never grew up dreaming of having children that were "mini me's". Which is probably a good thing. I think its much more interesting this way.

Tricky some days, but interesting. ☺

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Life, and Hallmark Movies

Sorry for the recent disappearance act. I head back to work next Monday, and have been trying to get myself geared up for that. It's going to be tough.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job. The only problem is, I love my children more and if I had my choice, I would be a SAHM (stay at home mom).

Alas, having not found a magic money tree, I will continue working and I truly am blessed to be working in a great school, and with wonderful coworkers.

Still, the idea of going back is stressing me out. Unfortunately, one of my favorite coping mechanisms when stressed is avoidance. Sooo, in between playing with Little Man and Baby B, I have been living in the land of Hallmark movies. I love Hallmark movies and right now they are already playing Christmas movies! I know they can be a bit cheesy...and they aren't 'realistic'. Hello! Why do you think I like 'em? Life has been hard lately. Escaping for a time, and seeing a happy story play out in two hours while I shut off my mind to my own life is just what the doctor ordered. Even if real life is not like a Hallmark movie.


 (A little side note: This past summer, I had the opportunity to 'live out' a Hallmark movie. A stranger came up to me at a craft festival and said I was 'perfect, gorgeous...just the kind of woman he was looking for.' Yep. Completely freaked me out. But I'll save that story for another day.)

Another bonus in watching that many Christmas movies is that it is helping to prepare me mentally for Christmas. Normally, Christmas is something that I start planning for very early. I've been pinning Christmas ideas for months.  I adore Christmas carols, all of the decorations, finding the perfect gifts for everyone.
Unfortunately, this year is going to be difficult, celebrating without my dad here with us. I feel sick just thinking about it.

Never the less, Saturday I am going to attempt to decorate our house for Christmas. Little Man loves decorating for Christmas, and this will be Baby B's first Christmas with our family. Plus, I know that once I go back to work I won't have the time to truly enjoy the process of decorating. We've already had a few dustings of snow, and this Christmas season is going to go quickly.

Ready or not, I think it's time to dig out those Nat King Cole Christmas CDs.

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Wanted: New Traditions

For the past year or so, I have been looking for ways to not only simplify our lives in general, but also to help our family to focus on what really matters (aka, not things with plug ins, over even 'things' in general). The accumulation of stuff is such a nice way to anesthetize ourselves to the ups and downs of life.

But, I don't want that for myself or for my kids.

 I chose to cut non-essentials out of my life while I was working on bringing my children home. Now that Little Man and Baby B are both home, I will be adding some technology back into our lives.

Did you know that we don't have internet at our home? (Shockingly, I blog, but I do not personally have internet access. Thank you family members who let me come and borrow your wireless connection.) My phone is not "smart". In fact, it's barely working these days.

We have a broken plug and play, but no video games. Our TV (which is fat, heavy, and does NOT have HD in its model name) gets one channel.  I've always been prided myself in my ability to go without technology.

However, Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to be really hard this year and part of me just wants to start buying 'stuff' to fill the void.  I think the key to surviving it will be in making sure things are kept as simple as possible, surrounding ourselves with family, and starting some new traditions (to add to the old) to help reclaim the season from our grief.

This is where I could use your help. I am looking for new ideas for traditions for our family. Nothing extravagant or with too much prep time needed.

What are some SIMPLE ways you celebrate life, focus on thankfulness, and keep your family centered on what is truly important (particularly during Thanksgiving and Christmas)?

Put your ideas in the comments section, on my FB page, or in a private message.

Thanks for your help.

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