Gianna

Gianna said she's always gonna be my friend.

Well, Gianna must be a smart girl.

She's not a smart girl.

No?

No.  She's an amazing girl.

Really?

Do you know one time, her jumped up and hanged on to the monkey bars?  And you know what?  Her was swinging back and forth.

If you want to impress G, now you know the trick.

Remember

I read this from Luke 1:

Birth of John the Baptist Foretold

^{5 “}In the days of Herod, king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, of the division of Abijah. And he had a wife from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. ⁶ And they were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord. ⁷ But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years.

⁸ Now while he was serving as priest before God when his division was on duty, ⁹ according to the custom of the priesthood, he was chosen by lot to enter the temple of the Lord and burn incense. ¹⁰ And the whole multitude of the people were praying outside at the hour of incense. ¹¹ And there appeared to him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense. ¹² And Zechariah was troubled when he saw him, and fear fell upon him. ¹³ But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. ¹⁴ And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth”

I really appreciated a few things from that reading. 

-          Zechariah was serving.  It was time for him to be on duty, so he was working.  He was walking in obedience to God.

-          Zechariah was praying for the impossible.  In spite of his wife being barren, in spite of their age, he was asking God for a child.

-          His miracle comes in response to prayer.  The angel says “your prayer has been heard.”  God answers our prayers.  The impossible is possible. 

-          God’s angels are mighty & powerful.  The sight of just one angel strikes fear in Zechariah.  Yet, it reminds me of 1 Kings 6:

¹⁵ “When the servant of the man of God rose early in the morning and went out, behold, an army with horses and chariots was all around the city. And the servant said, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” ¹⁶ He said, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” ¹⁷ Then Elisha prayed and said, “O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see.” So the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

God’s timing is perfect.  His power is awesome.  His plan results in joy and gladness.

Those who are with us are more than those who are with them!

 

Non-adoption Adoption Book

We recently checked out Jonathan London's book "Jackrabbit."

A mother jackrabbit is nesting with her babies when construction vehicles crash in.  The mother thumps a warning and dashes away with her babies, but she can't save her littlest one.  A lady comes looking for the baby, finds her and lovingly raises her.  With sadness and hope, the lady releases young jackrabbit back to the wild when it's time.

I often have "trouble" with children's adoption books.  They don't fit our family's unique situation.. they seem too neat and happy.. they don't explain adoption the way I would.. whatever.

But this book - which never mentions adoption - was a perfect conversation starter for us.  Good opportunities to discuss love, a first mom's inability to care for a baby, a second mom's search for her baby, making sacrifices for someone you love....

Good discussions.  Thought I should pass the suggestion along.

Morning Quote from G

"That's amazing how you do that!"

(as he watched me tie my shoes)

Progress

I notice that I've been posting about G's behavior... and that I've slanted the stories to the negative.  While the negatives make more entertaining stories, we really are experiencing a lot of positives!

At school, the children start each day with 3 stars and then lose stars as the morning wears on.  But G has come home with all 3 stars every day except twice... and then he's only lost 1 each time.  He's shining in kindergarten!

And at home things have been much smoother too.  I'm no longer living in fear that Mr. Peter is going to pull a "today was my last day" departure.

I'll keep posting the funnier stories.  You keep in mind that they don't necessarily reflect our whole reality.

p.s. One of the times that G lost a star in kindergarten, it was because he told Vince: "You lose!"  That was breaking the "Use kind words" rule.  I know that I tend a bit towards the competitive, but -really?  Is G supposed to say "Congratulations, you're the second winner!"  C'mon.

Thanksgiving Focus

I stumbled into a great idea for making Thanksgiving a day of thanksgiving!

At 8am I grabbed a sheet of paper and asked G to name 3 things he's thankful for.

Mama
House
Neighbors

I told him 3 things I'm thankful for.  Listed them.  Done.

At 9am we each added 3 more things.

We repeated it every hour.  Or - whenever I remembered.

Towards the end of the day, he was randomly approaching me:

"Kitchen, Mom - write I'm thankful about our kitchen."

"We already wrote down kitchen, G.  We sure are thankful that God gave us a kitchen, huh?"

"Then write down stove.  I'm thankful about we have a stove."

At dinnertime when we prayed, we prayed through the whole list, thanking God for everything.

Super simple idea - but it kept the point of the day in front of us all day.  And Friday he was still talking about things he's thankful for.  Loved it.

Now if I can just figure out how to keep the Christmas season about Christ...

Incentives

I've wanted to start G on an incentive chart.  Creating a chart has been on my "To Do" list for months.

Then, after one tough day, I simply grabbed a scrap of paper and drew 4 lines across it.  I wrote in 2 topics to help Mr. Peter and 2 just for me:

- Wake up; no arguing.

- Prepare for nap.  No trouble.

- Good rest.  No trouble.

- Clean up before bed.

10 smiley faces = $1

Done.

And it's been working great.

G is excited when he gets it right.  He just had one of his best weeks ever.  He's learning about money.  He's learning about handling disappointment when he doesn't earn the smiley.  He's learning that after he makes a bad choice and reaps a consequence, he still has the ability to make a good choice next time.  All good.

Plus - I realized that we've got to get going with learning bible verses.  First up: "Do everything without complaining and arguing so that you may become blameless and pure children of God."

He's learning it.

That verse works well with his incentive chart because he doesn't earn a smiley if he complains, argues, or delays obedience.  Great stuff. 

And - let's face it - the verse has been good for me to think on too.

Striving to keep running with purpose in every step!

In My Home

 

My friends came over on Friday.

In the old days, I might have sounded like this: “Oh, those are some photos I took…. Yes, that's the candle I bought while on vacation…. I decided to paint this wall yellow….”

Now I sound like this: “Oh, that’s an incentive chart I made for G…. Yes, those faces remind us that even when we’ve made sad choices, we can choose a smiling face next…. I decided to create this calming spot for him….”

How things change.

Quotable G

 

When explaining why he made a bad choice:

 “I wasn’t thinking in my brain.”

 

After starting school:

 “I don’t like being shy, but my body says: Be Shy!”

 

When explaining why he let fellow Kindergartner Kenya be unkind:

“She looks good so I didn’t want to make her mad.”

 

When reciting the alphabet:

 “… H, I, J, K, em-el-enno-pee, Q, R, S…”

 

When I signed him up for a introduction to basketball class (knowing that he can barely dribble):

“They’ll probably make 2 teams and then everyone will clap for me!”

 

 

Budget Insanity

 

I read this in a CitizenLink newsletter:

“We have a family that is spending $38,200 per year. The family’s income is $21,700 per year. The family adds $16,500 in credit card debt every year in order to pay its bills. After a long and difficult debate among family members, keeping in mind that it was not going to be possible to borrow $16,500 every year forever, the parents and children agreed that a $380/year premium cable subscription could be terminated. So now the family will have to borrow only $16,120 per year.”

The newsletter said that if you take those numbers and multiply everything by 100 million, that is exactly what our government has been doing.

Blows my mind.

 

Orphanage Observation

This summer we were able to visit with some special friends.  These families all include children who grew up in the same orphanage where G used to live.

One thing I noticed again when talking to other adoptive moms is how often their children report that, in an orphanage, the other children were mean to them.  I just don't hear about children describing their orphanage as a safe, kind place.

It's hard to pause and consider how many children today are growing up in orphanages, even the "better ones."

Children need families.

Just sayin'.

Dinner Table Conversation

Me: "What happened at school today, G?"

G (full of drama): "I was da line leader an this boy he said to go there but I said I's the line leader so then he bash me in da nose!"

Me: "He bashed you in the nose?  So what did you do then?"

G (complete self righteous confidence): "Wewl, I turned like dis, and I carefully bash him."

Me: "G, when there is trouble, I want you to remember that you can tell your teacher.  It's not a good choice to bash people."

G (patiently trying to help the slow-minded mama to understand): "Mama.  I CAREFULLY bash him."

What do I know?  He came home with all of his stars (kindergarten motivation system).  Maybe the modern education includes careful bashing.  Maybe?

Educational Excellence

I hope you enjoy this excerpt from G's kindergarten newsletter as much as I did.

"As we FOCUS on our students toward becoming college and career ready..."

#1 - College?  He's six years old!

#2 - The grammatical error builds great confidence in me.

Or at least it makes me laugh.

My Cooking. It is that bad. Really.

I spent some time this summer around real moms.  Moms who cook.  And I've been inspired, in my own little way, to spend more time preparing meals.

Last week I was trying a slow cooker lasagna recipe.  It involved browning ground beef.  This is not something that I usually do.  Or something that I ever do.

Evidence:

I'm at the stove and G approaches me: "Waz dat?"

Me: "I'm cooking meat."

G: "Das not meat."

Me: "Yes.  It's a different kind of meat.  It's not chicken meat.  It's beef meat."

5 minutes later G comes back for another peek.  With complete confidence, he announces: "Das not meat" and walks away.

Case closed.

Behavior

We've continued to navigate some challenges with G's behavior.

Church has provided plenty of "opportunity" in this area.  G transitioned from the preschool room, where free play was the norm, to the K-3rd grade class, where the children get to engage in more learning.

Me: "What did you do this morning, G?"

G: "Iz so boring, Mama.  We's just learning about God.  All da time.  Every time.  Just learning about God."

He seems to feel that he already knows enough.  He's done with learning about God.

Most weeks, the children start in the church service with the parents and then they're dismissed to their classes, where they get picked up after church.  However when we take communion, the children are welcomed back into the service.

This hasn't gone so well with G.

Imagine the scene.  Everyone in the sanctuary has been solemnly preparing for communion.  Everyone is quiet.  That is, every except G, who suddenly bursts out:

"I WANNA GO HOME!  I WANNA GO HOME!  I WANNA GO HOME!"

Yep.

Church: The New Battleground.

Math Skillz

I watch G playing with his action figures.  He's got them talking to each other.  One guy is turned to face the other.  He states authoritatively:

"Eighteen comes after eleventeen!"

Yes, our counting challenges continue.

Sympathy. Or not.

One of Joseph's long-standing complaints against me is that I tend not to be overly sympathetic.

Have a cold?  Here are some tissues and you'd better get moving so you don't miss the bus.

Unfortunate, but true.

By the end of high school, Joseph had trained me to ask "Are you ok?" - although it wasn't always delivered with the maximum possible sympathy.  I mean - c'mon - I can see when he's really ok.

Anyway, one of my favorite moments from the summer came in August, after G fell off his chair and started to cry.

Joseph looked at him, totally dispassionately, and stated: "Well, I told you that'd happen."

Long pause.

And then he turned and caught my eye - - - busted!

What's that about the apple and the tree?

Kindergarten

School has started!

Given G's challenges with transitions, we started preparing early.  In May we went for a long tour of the school and also got to visit his classroom-to-be.

Afterwards, I processed with him, helping him to remember key aspects.

Me: "G, your new teacher Mrs. L seems very nice, doesn't she?"

G (puzzled): "Mrs. L?  Who was sitting by me?  With her big teeth?"

Yep, that's the teacher.  With her big teeth.  I'm feeling super confident about the start of this relationship.

Hi !

Anyone here?  I've missed sharing this space with you.  Hope we can re-connect!

So - it's been a summer.  Interesting how much can change in so little time, eh?  I'm going to do my best to share, although I still don't have internet at home, so it may be challenging.

The biggest change for us is that my brother-in-law has been diagnosed with a brain tumor.  You know G's three sweet stairstep cousins, ages 6, 4, 2?  It's their daddy.  So if you'd please be praying for him I'd sure appreciate it.

That news is consuming us right now, but there is plenty of other fun stuff to share.  I'll try to come back soon.

Welcome to September!
Heidi

School

G’s preschool is now over.  Yesterday he dissolved into a puddle of tears on my lap: “I miss my teachers!”  Both sad & precious.

Next stop.. summer school.

Break Time

It’s time for me to take a blog break.

I will miss writing to you! Many times each day, I notice tidbits that I want to share. But I’m not getting it done and I’m still spending too much time on the internet. So - I’ve canceled my internet service at home. Hopefully, this will allow me to more fully enjoy my sons and to accomplish some other goals that I’ve set for this summer.

I’m planning to resume blogging in the fall (if I can stay away that long).  I hope that you’ll come back when I do!

I’ve noticed that when my favorite blogs stop posting, then I get out of the habit of checking and I never get back to those blogs. If you want me to send you an email when I’m back, then let me know. You can email me at ineverystep@yahoo.com.

Hope you have a terrific summer!
Heidi

Mother's Day

Had a nice day with my handsome sons

A Praying Life

I spent a bit of time today searching my own blog.  I was trying to find the post where I wrote about Paul E. Miller's book, "A Praying Life"... only I don't seem to have written about it.  Ooops.

Tremendous book.

I'll share some:

"The second thing we must do in learning to pray is believe like a child.  Children are supremely confident of their parents' love and power.  Instinctively, they trust.  They believe their parents want to do them good.  If you know your parent loves and protects you, it fills your world with possibility.  You just chatter away with what is on your heart.  It works the same in the world of prayer."

"Imagine asking Jesus how he's doing.  He'd say, 'My Father and I are doing great.  He has given me everything I need today.'  You respond, 'I'm glad your Father is doing well, but let's just focus on you for a miute.  Jesus how are you doing?'  Jesus would look at you strangely, as if you were speaking a foreign language.  The question doesn't make sense.  He simply can't answer the question 'How are you doing?' without including his heavenly Father.  That's why contemplating the terror of the cross at Gethsemane was such an agony for Jesus.  He had never experienced a moment when he wasn't in communion with his Father.  Jesus' anguish is our normal."

"Efficiency, multitasking, and busyness all kill intimacy.  In short, you can't get to know God on the fly."

Those are just the first three quotes I opened to.  The whole book is quotable.  Engaging.  Encouraging.  Exciting.

Tremendous book.

Yesterday, a friend gave me a copy of it.  Since I already have one, she said I could share it.

Would you like to have it?

Waz Dat?

Because I bought a certain meat at the deli, they gave me this free re-usable bag.

I was unpacking the groceries, when G started staring intently at the bag.  "Waz dat Mama?"

"That's a new bag I got."

"No, Mama.  Waz DAT?..."  (pointing to the picture)

"... Dat's heaven???"

Actually, Son, I'm guessing Italy. 

But what do I know?

G Composes a Letter

Dear Joseph,

And I love you.  And I think about you.  I hope I see you.  Please come home.  Please.

We got a thing.  We like it.  It making us sleep.  Sorry you can't have it because it's ours.  We have it first.

Love,
G




Bet you wish you had a thing too, don't you?

But you can't have it because it's ours.  We have it first.

Ha!

Hate to Break It to You

At G's eye appointment, his doctor emphasized for him the importance of compliance with his restrictions.  She was kindly taking the time to stress the value his eyesight will have in his future.  She pointed out: "G, you might want to be a doctor when you grow up and then..."

He interrupted.  With an attitude of trying to let someone down gently, he said: "Wewllll.  Really, I want to be a construction worker."

Fortunately, she was able to transition smoothly into a lecture about how construction workers need to see what they're doing.

She is fabulous.  And - man - that kid cracks me up.

Pronoun Awareness

G seems to finally be moving past the stage where everyone is "him."

This stage has provided plenty of awkwardness as G has not only asked loud, ill-timed questions of me, but has added the insult of gender confusion. For example: "Mama, why him (the lady standing 2 feet from us) smoking dat cigarette? Dat gonna make him sick?"

Not that he's getting his pronouns correct yet.

Now it goes more like: "My teacher gave dat to me. Him said - her - him - she - HER said iz for me."

We're getting there.

Variety

Last week I successfully navigated the fafsa (college financial aid) AND kindergarten registration.


My life cracks me up sometimes.

Eye Update

We went to G's retina doctor yesterday morning.

THREE HOURS LATER...

He seems fine.

Some scarring in the eye will need to be watched.  Some inflammation means that he has to resume the steroid eye drops.  But, overall, the retina looks fine.

I wish we could have determined the "fine-ness" in less than 3 hours, but - it's good news.  I'll take it!

And G is thrilled because he can JUMP.  How many months now has he had to be still?  Since the surgery in October?  He jumped all down the hallway out of the doctor's office.  I don't think the boy cares if he goes blind or not; he just wants to MOVE.

So - jumping is allowed.  Running and playgrounds are back in the repertoire.  Once I buy him some prescription goggles, then riding a bike will be allowed!  We're still waiting for an ok to play with balls, and then you will surely hear G's shouts of joy.

Please continue to pray for the healing of G's eye & restoration of his vision.  But feel free to celebrate with us too.

Safe Families

Single moms often live closer to the edge.

If I lose my job, there's not the hope of another income.  If I get seriously ill, there's not a caretaker in the home.  The operation of my home rests largely on me.

Fortunately for me, I have a network - family, friends, church.  If I was desperate, I'm pretty sure someone would help me back from the edge.

Many moms don't have that network.

They lose their job - and then their apartment.  They need to go away for a week of job training.  Or a month in the hospital.  And what do they do with their children?

Can you imagine the anguish?  Leaving your child with whoever is willing to take him... knowing that the "caretaker" might not actually take care of your little one?

That's why I like Safe Families.

Safe Families allows a mom to place her child - voluntarily - temporarily - in a home where he will be protected and loved.  She has the opportunity to get her life on track and then welcome her child back.  The child is given as much care and security as possible in the face of major transitions.

It's not foster care.  The child is never taken from his mom.  The Safe Family is not reimbursed financially for their service.  It's just community - loving on families - providing a network.

I think many people, if they were asked to host a child in need for a few weeks, would react by considering saying Yes.

Maybe you want to proactively consider saying Yes.  Safe Families, at least in my area, has more families in need than it has volunteer host families.

I'm finishing up my Safe Families volunteer training.  We'll see where it leads.

In Which We Survived Mr Peter's Absence

For obvious reasons, it is Very Stressful when Mr. Peter cannot watch G.

Leading up to Mr. Peter's vacation, I had contacted 100 babysitting prospects.  None of whom could watch G.  Did I mention that it was Very Stressful?

Finally I found someone for Thursday.. a young local college girl.. Miss Megan.  We went to interview her, and found her to be very nice.  And young.  I assured her: G is very funny; you'll probably have a terrific day, but if you need to restrain him....

I prayed for Miss Megan.

My coworkers prayed for Miss Megan.

We prayed a lot.

When I got home, I asked Miss Megan how the day had gone.  "Terrific.  G is great.  We had a lot of fun and he was really well behaved."

Of course.

I asked G how the day had gone.  No matter how I asked him the question, I only ever got one response: "All day, Mama.  Miss Megan not go potty all day." 

Apparently Miss Megan is not actually human.  But what do I care?  We all survived.

Paint

This is month-old news but will surely still be fascinating to all.

It's been troubling me that G's entire youth is being captured against

my YELLOW walls.

or are they ORANGE?

No - my kitchen is ORANGE.

This is YELLOW.

I've been imagining my 80-year-old self, spending my days flipping through old (non-existent) photo albums, and wondering: WHAT was I thinking?  10 years of YELLOW?

For the benefit of my future sanity, I decided to paint.

Yes, brown.

It's different, anyway.

You're welcome, Old Heidi.

Nursery Rhymes by G

Courtesy of the Weekly Plan that G's teachers send home, I know he's been learning different nursery rhymes.

Me: "G, did you learn about Jack and Jill today?"

G: "Ya.  I know about dat."

Me: "Wow!  Do you think you could tell me how it goes?"

G, matter-of-fact:
  "Jack went up da hill to fetch da water.
  And Jill fall down.
  And Jack come tumbling after him."

Me, sing-song:
  "...And Jack came tumbling af-ter."

G, corrects me:
  "...And Jack came tumbling after him."

Nursery Rhymes by G.

A Healthy Weekend

We've finally replaced sickness with FUN.  Hooray!

Time with friends

Time with family

I even made a big Easter Dinner.  Ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, corn, and cranberry.

Took me all of 15 minutes.  It takes long than you might think to open all of those containers and get everything in & out of the microwave.

It's good to be back.

Important Ponderings

Maybe I am recovering from The Plague. Let’s hope.

While I’ve been trying to cough myself to death, G has continued to be hilarious.

Friday night he posed the all-important question of “What’s da fastest car inna world?”

I had to consult with an expert on that one, but came back with: “Ferrari.”

This led to research. “We see dat car, Mama? Dere’s a video of da Ferrari?”

As it turns out , there are videos on Ferrari’s website. Oh the joy.

Later, G & I are in our car. As I drive, G anguishes over his decision: “Mama, I not know what to do. When I a man, I gonna buy a Ferrari or a towtruck?”

Good thing he's started planning now.

On the bright side - I lost some weight

I've been sick. 

Sick as in spending time hugging porcelain.  While G hovered nearby, jockeying for a good view, offering helpful hints such as "You gonna flush dat, Mama?"  For the love.

G kept coming to my bedside, insisting "I hungy Mama; I hungy."  To which I kept brushing him away "Pretzels; get pretzels."  Little guy polished off a whole bag full.  Breakfast, snack, and lunch.  Poor dude.

This morning I'm feeling better.  I made him giant pancakes.  He ate FOUR: "I glad you feeling better Mama." 

Me too, G.  Me too.

"Thank You"

A few weeks ago we saw G’s cataract specialist. He’s a busy surgeon, apparently “the best” in this area.

After the appointment was over and he had left the room… he walked back in. He came close and looked me seriously in the eye and said, “I want to thank you for what you are doing for him (nodding to G).” And then he left again.

Now, if I was G’s biological mom, I might appreciate that comment. G can be a bit of a pill, and hauling his uncooperative self miles away, bribing him through procedures, and persevering through insurance dilemmas… that is worth a thank you.

But, let’s face it, the surgeon was offering his thanks because I was doing this for a child who is not really mine. Only – HELLO WORLD – he is mine! G is my son. I love him as I love Joseph. No one needs to thank me for caring for G.

In fact, if you wanted to come up to me and announce, “You are so blessed to have this amazing son,” then you would get my agreement.

My place is on the giving end - not the receiving end - of a million Thank Yous.

Should be obvious.  Right?

Growing again

Time for G to move up another size in jeans

which is good

since all of the old jeans have seen better days.

Pushing cars & trucks all day has its ramifications.

EIGHT PAIRS of holey jeans.  Sheesh.

A Passport. (exhale.)

My youngest son has been home from Haiti for 773 days.

Oh - the hours I've spent during those days, trying to secure his status as a US citizen.

After we received his permanent resident card last December, I called USC!S to ask if G finally was a citizen.  The nice man helped me for a long. long. long time.  He checked all kinds of different sources & regulations.  Finally he let me know that I could try applying for an N-600.

"But," said I, "An N-600 would cost $550.  All I want to know is whether or not he is now a citizen."

He persevered in his research.  Finally he offered, "Well, you could wait until February, when G has been with you for two years, and then try applying for a passport."

Passport applications cost $80.  A bargain!  We invested another hour at the post office, and today

IT ARRIVED.

G's very own passport.  And under "Nationality" it says "United States of America."

After holding my breath for 773 days.... exhale.

Next stop: A social security number.  Wish me luck.


p.s. For my newer friends - our journey has been extra complicated because of the Haitian earthquake.  Families who are in the adoption process now shouldn't face any of these struggles :)

 

Tire Repair

Joseph's ancient vehicle got a flat tire.

Which was, like, the best news that G has ever received - Obviously.

The repair plan included using a hand pump to fill the tire enough so that Joseph could drive to the shop.

Which was, like the best news that G has ever received - Again - Obviously.

G shadowed Joseph closely through each step of the process.  He insisted on "helping" with the pumping.  Starting with "Let's carry da pump together!"

One of my favorite quotes from this Spring Break was hearing Joseph tell G: "Ok, G.  We'll take turns.  But my turn is going to be a little longer than yours because I'm older than you."

Thank goodness for Joseph's patience.

Wit Da Boys

How terribly my little one wants to be "wit da boys."

Joseph & his friends spend most of their time in his bedroom playing video games.  But one night they sat downstairs and played a board game.

Notice where G is?

Yep, right in the middle of the couch.

He couldn't play the game, but he was content just to be there.

Later that night, after the boys retreated to Joseph's room, G disolved in tears: "Mama, dey close dat door and dey say I not can play with dem.  I just wanna play wit dem."

Literally -(the boy who stands up fearlessly to any bully)- crying in my lap.

Sweet, sweet boy.

Volumes of Food

If you were going to have 4 college boys living in your home, exactly how much food would you prepare?

Let's start with breakfast.

I purchased bagels & cream cheese, waffles, english muffins, pancakes, sausage, eggs, yogurt, fruit, cereal, and muffins.

You'd think that would hold the tide, right?

No! No! No!

The correct answer is: When young men sleep until noon, then NO breakfast is needed!

What kind of a rookie parent am I, anyway?  Sheesh.




Anyone want to come over for breakfast with me & G?




Please?

Gearing Up

Joseph's Spring Break will be coming soon.  G's prayers for his brother's return home will be answered.

AND.

In a fascinating twist, Joseph will be bringing 3 friends home with him for the Break.  4 college boys in the house for a week.

Of course, my main thought is HOWEVER WILL I FEED THEM?!?!

For someone whose "meal planning" consists of coming home each night and hopefully opening cabinets & freezer... this should be interesting.

I can't wait.

Which makes two of us.

Perspective

On Wednesday night's commute home, my car broke down.  Multi-lane highway, not going anywhere, broke down.

I survived the complete break-down experience: obtaining emergency care for G (thanks Pam!), finding a tow truck, considering alternate transportation options, navigating the repair, etc.  I've lived through worse, but it was definitely unpleasant.

On my arrival back home, G greeted me with his toy tow truck. 

"How dat tow truck work Mama?  Show me."

"And then what?"

"You tell me dat about da tow truck again?"

And again.  And again.

Wistful despair overcame him.  With great longing he said, "I wish I was dere for dat tow truck."

Moral: One man's lemon is another man's lemonade truck.  Or something.

At the Post Office

I've grabbed 2 books for G to read while we wait.

I survey the line and know that I've been optimistic.  We're facing a 50 book wait.

G plops down in the middle of the dirty floor to "read."

Other children are standing in line.

One boy - a big boy - 9 years old? - is sitting on the only chair.

The boy moves to stand with his mother, and I suggest to G that he take the chair.

G stirs, but immediately the boy jumps & dashes back to claim "his" chair.  He throws a triumphant glance at G.

This has no impact on G.  He sits & reads.

The minutes pass.

The boy is again standing with his mother.

I notice that G is moving towards the chair.

The boy notices too.  He makes a dash, bumps into a man, continues his scurry towards the chair.

Too late.  G is sitting.

I watch the boy loom over my son.  The boy twists his face into an intimidating glare, which he locks on G.

I watch.

G meets the boy's eyes.  G shows no fear.  No doubt.  No tension.  With pure confidence, G states: "Don't look at me."

The boy shrinks back and returns to his mother.

Spending his first 3+ years in a Haitian orphanage, there are many lessons that my son didn't learn.  Self defense he learned very very well.

Don't mess with my kid.

Babysitter

Do you remember that G's previous babysitter, Ms L, quit early last December?

I'm not sure that I blogged about it.  In my journal, I wrote that I was "too overwhelmed to breathe."

That feeling lasted for one night, and then God brought me another babysitting prospect.

Mr. Peter (college student) - found the same night I started searching - seemed too good to be true, so I didn't even let myself believe it. 

This is his 6th week with us, so maybe I can start to accept it.

I can work.  G has fun, safe care.  In our home.  And I can afford it.  G asks for Mr. Peter on Saturdays, which seems to be a good sign.  Mr. Peter has worked around our school / surgery schedule.

It's been great.

AND

There's this other perk.

Seriously, this is our 6th week with Mr. Peter, and I'm just starting to believe that this may be for real.

Mr. Peter's mother has been bringing us dinner.  Once or twice a week.  Just to be nice.  No strings attached.  An example:

Uh - delicious - right?!

Oh, but don't forget dessert:

Because I usually make something like homemade strawberry cheesecake with every meal.  Riiiight.

Recap: Perfect babysitter + delicious dinners + 6 weeks to adjust = joy.