Miracle!

Here you have the proof:

Seriously.
That is Kacin
and that really, truly is a book in his hands.
Happy day!
This kid has finally caught the reading bug.
Yeah yeah,
he's still not as into reading as Kyler or I,
but he will sometimes wake up in the mornings and grab a book
without anyone telling him to.
He will ask to read in bed.
He doesn't complain when I remind him to read for his homework.
That is a miracle in my book.
I'm so glad he's finally finding some joy
in reading.
Yes!

The End of the Season

It's officially over.
Soccer season 2012 was a fun, busy one.
Thanks to great coaches and good friends
my boys loved every minute of the season.

Kacin's coach remarked
 how Kacin always wanted to play offense--
and would,
even when he was supposed to be defense. :)

Ky's coach talked about his great speed on the field.

Way to go, my boys!

Flowing Thoughts

Kacin and I couldn't remember the last time he took a shower. I declared it was time this morning. Sorry if you've been around him lately and smelled a foul odor. But with the way my head has been spinning I wasn't really surprised something has been neglected.

Another thing I've been neglecting is responding to texts and emails. Some days I feel bad about it. I like all the people who contact me. But it seems when I have a spare minute in which a child is not demanding my attention my brain doesn't seem able to think or type a coherent thought.

If that's true, how do I find time to blog? It helps me when I sit down to sort my thoughts, record our life, and reflect on my experiences. So I selfishly take the time to clear my head by writing something. It's for me.

Me. There's been a few times this week, like when putting D back into bed for a nap for the 18th time, that the thought has run through my mind that these kids are out to get me. But it is probably more accurate to say that they are out to get what they need--attention, food, a diaper change, rest, space, whatever it may be.

The special educator who comes to our home once a week always asks me why I think the behavior happened and why I think a response worked or didn't work. She must be doing a good job coaching us because her reflective questions are beginning to run through my head on a constant basis.

Like why I need to organize and control and worry about details. It's a blessing and a curse. Most character traits probably are that way--both a weakness and a strength. It makes me weak because my mind swims with ideas and concerns and desires to improve. I often know good ways to do things, and I don't always trust that other people do. See, I admit my shortcomings. But maybe that's also my strength. Because if I wasn't this way I don't think we could manage four kids with lots of challenges and activities, visits with birthparents, lots of appointments, an open home to caseworker visits, teaching preschool, piano, and church callings.

Even with my "strength", things will sometimes slip. I'm ok with that. We're still living. We may be a little stinky if we keep forgeting to bathe. But that can't be too bad, Kacin wasn't complaining!

Power of Touch

I am no expert on such things,
but boy have I seen a difference in D
and I'm attributing it to the power of touch.

The first couple weeks here,
he would scream and pull away
if ever we touched him--
carry him, take his hand, rub his back,
anything.

L always wanted me to hold her
and carry her
and it didn't take long for me to bond
with that sweet, beautiful girl.

D kept resisting.

I can remember two pivotal moments
during those first few weeks here.

One. We were outside and he was melting down.
Like majorly.
I had the Ergo carrier nearby
and survived without being knocked out by
his flailing arms and legs
while placing him in close to me.
He soon settled down
and hummed quietly to himself.
His head was resting on my shoulder
and I hope he felt safe.

Two. A few hours after putting him to bed,
D was still awake
lying in his toddler bed
babbling to himself.
I went in to check on them and gather sippy cups.
He was smiling
and he let me scoop him into my arms
and rock him back and forth.
I snuggled him up.
I believe that was the first moment
my heart really swelled
with love and happiness
for the opportunity to care for the little guy.

With these moments,
and others like them,
and with more time
we have made it to a place
where D seeks us out,
hugs, kisses, sits with us, and holds our hands.
He comes to us when he needs help.
He tantrums less and smiles and listens more.
He is responding and learning.
Touch is powerful
in increasing attachment and trust.

Game Night

Church at 1pm means no naps for the little ones on Sundays, which means a couple hours of tantruming rambunctiousness, which means an early bed time, which means a much needed game night for four of us.

 

Since the little ones joined our family, we have tried to be mindful of spending time and giving attention to the boys. They need one-on-one time. We need it, too. Doing an activity together doesn't always happen as often as it used to or as often as we'd like it to, but we try to take advantage of the moments. And I think, most importantly, I've tried to be more present when I'm around them. My mind is prone to wandering, so I am being more conscientious of being there for them-- listening to them and cherishing the moments I get with them, including the silly stories and questions (yeah but not always the burps and whines. I need more practice cherishing those I think). I love these boys and I hope they know it.

Are You Aware?

It's Adoption Awareness month, you know.

Every day is adoption awareness for me--
questions, caseworkers, school projects,
therapy, dr.'s visits, feelings, and conversations
make sure of it.

So
I love that there is a whole month
dedicated to helping everyone be more aware of adoption.

I know that my own understanding of adoption has grown over this last year. I've expanded my definition of adoption to include the words fresh start. A fresh start for kids, birthparents, couples, and families. I've wrestled with understanding why someone would hesitate to adopt simply because they think they can't love a child who wasn't their own flesh and blood (if you can love your spouse unconditionally, you can learn to love a child. Same principle.) I've felt strongly that we are not looking and waiting for just any children, but for our children. And unfortunately that may mean passing up opportunities to welcome someone into our home. I've learned that adoption is practically synonymous with patience and waiting. I've become grateful that adoption teaches you to trust and rely on God and others. I understand that adoption touches so many of us in many uniquely different ways. Adoption is beautiful.

I hope that at least one person somewhere, sometime during this month will begin to understand adoption a little better. A greater awareness will bring more miracles and joy for many kids and families.

Nine is Here

 

Nine years ago

we got married.

 

I don't think that back then

we could've predicted

where we would be 9 years later.

Here we are though

living in a beautiful place,

but so far from where we grew up,

keeping good jobs,

fixing kitchen faucets,

with four beautiful children running around us.

 

mushy gushy

Each year with E gets better and better.

I love having a best friend

who knows

that I'm terrible at returning text messages

and that I have quite the temper

and that I cook quesadillas for dinner way too often

but who sticks around anyways.

 

 

With 9 more years of marriage,

we predict . . .

Australia

four more kids and a goat

Eric's face on coinage