10 Months-Old and Full of Christmas Wonder

On his 10-month birthday, my little man woke up sounding like Darth Vader. I'm afraid instead of a creative plea to be taken to the new Star Wars movie, he's come down with his first cold. Mama's magical antibodies could only keep him healthy for so long I suppose. It was bound to happen, but I would not have chosen Christmas week for his first illness if given options.

Other than sounding like a snoring dinosaur when he breathes, he's handling it remarkably well. First thing this morning he wanted to show off his two latest tricks; sweetly waving at me as he did his business on the potty. The precious waving just began a few days ago, and is especially heart-melting when it sounds like he's accompanying it with "Hola" or "Chau." Other words we're all pretty convinced we're hearing are "Dada," "Mama," and "Doggy," but we're all pretty biased too.

He's still not mobile, and both he and I are still very okay with that. But he loves his standing up toys now and is pulling himself up better and better all the time. On our hardwood floors he will sometimes scoot, but in reverse on accident, so that's understandably a bit frustrating for him.

If all he wants for Christmas is his 2 front teeth, then he must be one content little dude, cause he's got both top and bottom front teeth now.

Angie was super stoked to give Zy his first Christmas present, and he was pretty thrilled to receive it! Notice also, the success of my mom's first knit sweater attempt. I don't know if he makes the sweater look so good or if it makes him even handsomer, probably both.

Earlier this month, he traveled to Seattle with me like a rockstar. I was pretty worried about trying to work out there for a week with him, but God provided many awesome co-workers to help entertain him, and a temperament of gold for this little traveler. This weekend he'll add Iowa to his list of states, as we celebrate the birth of another precious baby, Jesus!

"Unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given." -Isaiah 9:6

(I think Isaiah likes hearing his name in church so much during Christmas season.)

First World Solutions

Having lived overseas for an extended period, I've done culture shock. Having returned from overseas after such periods, I'm also familiar with its cousin reverse culture shock. But this week, seeing the U.S. through the eyes of our Bolivian guest, Teolinda, I'm experiencing something different from both of those. What's the word for viewing your own world through new eyes? I think maybe the word should be "grateful."

Here in North America, we gripe about ridiculous things so often that our friends have to give us a reality check by reminding us of our "First World Problems." But what if, at least for a little while, before the Thanksgiving glow wears off, we didn't dwell on our First World Problems, but appreciated some serious First World Solutions. I don't flatter myself that #FWS is going to become a thing, but for a moment, I'd like to recognize just how good we have it. 

Here are the things Teolinda has experienced for the first time this week:

Dishwasher - In the developing world, a dishwasher is a person with a sponge, and the water is so limited that it's only used to rinse the dishes. I'm still working on getting her to use it.

Clothes Dryer - When her sisters used to live with us in Bolivia, they washed their clothes by hand, a washer was a luxury, a dryer was unheard of. Now, she's intrigued by both commonplace appliances here. Not only, does the dryer save the time and effort of hanging things to dry, but she recognized right away the softness she'd been missing all along, and I'd been under-appreciating.

Self Check-Out - Do whaaat? She was pretty blown away by this First World Solution to long grocery store lines.

Expressways - Just days after Teolinda arrived in the U.S. we loaded her up in the car for our first road trip, to add Georgia to her list of the states she's visited. She was mesmerized by the roads. "Are all your roads like this? Where is the dirt?" Then with a chuckle, "All our roads have cows and chickens meandering on and around them..." Oh man, do we take our interstates for granted!

Heated Car Seats - Cause it is way too much to ask to wait 3.5 minutes for the rest of the car to heat up, we need our buns warmed immediately!

Crock Pot - I threw some spaghetti squash in the crock pot one of her first nights here, and totally forgot to tell her what I was doing. It wasn't till we were eating hours later, that I realized how confusing cooking by plugging a pot into the wall and leaving it all day, must seem.

Thanksgiving Dinner - Possibly the culinary definition of excess. We had 25 mouths to feed with our Thanksgiving feast, and afterwards, you could barely tell it had been touched. I tried hard to find a translation for "feast" in Spanish, but I don't even think Teolinda could wrap her head around having so much extra food, we never came up with a Latin equivalent.

Apple Pie - Appropriately, we introduced her to two of the most American things her first week here; Thanksgiving and Apple Pie. Apple Pie is definitely the solution to the first world problem of not having enough desserts to binge on after the most gluttonous meal of the year!

Pretzels - I don't even think she knew she needed a savory alternative to potato chips, but now she probably doesn't know how she lived so long without them.

Peanut Butter Filled Pretzels - As if pretzels didn't rock her world enough, then we introduced her to the peanut butter filled variety. #mindblown

Candy Corn - Turns out candy corn is not an acquired taste, Teolinda took to it straight away. Unfortunately, she's gonna have to wait almost a year to get another fix. #FWP (Never mind, Jon just reminded me you can get candy corn all year long. #FWS)

Ping Pong - Because we have dryers, dishwashers, crock pots, and paved roads saving us so much time, we have room in our schedules (not to mention our houses) for such a treat as table tennis.

Black Olives - Black olives may not fit perfectly into the first world solutions category, but they are certainly a luxury I am thankful for when reminded that Bolivia only has green olives.

Golf Carts - Not that walking around golf courses, or retirement communities is a struggle in developing countries, but a tiny car to get you to the grocery store, or the next tee, is an invention that should not be overlooked as an innovation that has saved many well... steps.

So, seriously, guys, let's quit our bellyaching and look around, we've got it pretty good. Let's look for things to rejoice in this season, and maybe like Teolinda's amazement at all our treasures, it will be contagious...

Angie taking us for a spin around Peachtree City in Jon's grandparents' golf cart.

Teaching Teolinda the art of apple pie baking.

Luxuriating in the gorgeous lake views and a peaceful paddle boat ride.

Thankful for 9 Months with This Guy

I just read over Zy's 6, 7, and 8 month blog posts and it looks like I better start encouraging him to move soon, so I'll have something new to share. He's pretty much the same happy go-lucky little guy he has been for the last couple months, smiling a lot, sleeping very little, and entertaining everyone from the dog to the entire Social Security office. His big sissy is trying to encourage him to walk, and in turn I'm coddling him as best I can to keep him still. We just put the Christmas tree up last night, can't we enjoy it for at least a couple weeks before he pulls it down??

At his 9-month check-up this morning, he took the toe prick with a laugh, and his lab work proved we're not letting him eat too much lead paint. He's settled down comfortably around the 85th% for both height (29.5 in) and weight (22 lbs). But his head continues to soar off the charts, he's probably gonna cure cancer with that brain. :)

His first top tooth just busted through, right in time to help him chew some Thanksgiving turkey and fixings. His Spanish accent will be better than mine any day now, as he soaks in everything our new Bolivian house guest has to say.

We couldn't be more thankful for this precious gift God has given us. Here are few things Isaiah is thankful for:

Loving some exercise time while sharing some of his Cheerios with the dog.

He seems to have skipped baby food and moved onto solids, and I'm beginning to wonder if he'll ever learn to drink.

After making messes in his high chair, bath time is more fun than ever now that he can sit up and enjoy his toys and be cleaned by the octopus his Bula made him.

Helping Mommy brush her teeth with the Sonicare is a highlight for him every morning!

And in his biggest news this month, he's using the potty like a champ almost every time we put him on!

The Ministry of Mothering

The other day, as I was gently wrestling 8 month-old Isaiah's nine arms to suck the snot out of his wiggly nose before putting him to bed, I tried to convince him this was for his own good, telling him, "You'll thank me later." But then it struck me, I'm 35 years-old and I've never thanked my mom for sucking the snot out of my nose.

This morning, Angie came downstairs with perfect double french braids, and I silently praised the Lord that I taught her to braid her own hair so early on, or I should say, taught her to watch Youtube videos and learn how to braid her own hair. I never thanked my mom for all the French braiding in the days before Youtube either...

I never thanked her for the endless shuttle service to and from practices and games, night after night, weekend after weekend. And she did it without ever telling me how she had other things she could be doing, as I too often remind Angie when she's particularly ungrateful for my time spent taxiing her. 

I can't remember thanking her for all those meals she slaved over, and the foods she likely gave up for decades to keep us picky kids from complaining. Now, in her shoes, I can barely breathe some days, paralyzed by the fact that these people in my house want to eat 3 meals every day!!

I know I've never mentioned my gratitude for the over 3,650 times she probably changed my dirty diapers. Honestly, I've never even thought to feel gratitude for that.

I took for granted the never ending laundry to keep us presentable, the agonizing school projects to keep us from failing, the grocery shopping to keep us healthy and growing, the budgeting to keep us afloat, the awesome snacks to keep us energized, content, and knowing we were loved.

I doubt I ever once thanked her for praying with me at bedtime all those years. She surely doesn't know how much it meant to me to see her reading her Bible and journaling all the time.

In my last blog post, I wrote to adoptive parents and said this:

"I believe in the ministry you're doing 24 hours every day, I believe it is the most holistic ministry anyone can do. And because you probably haven't heard it enough, Thank You. Thank you for serving with your whole self, ALL the time, with no end coming."

And the same can be said to biological parents. The only job that lasts longer than adopting a child is birthing one, because it starts sooner but lasts just as long; forever.

I have a dear friend about to have her fifth child and she's feeling the weight and length of parenting. She's recognizing the sacrifices she'll be continuing to make and the ministry she'll be missing out on while she doesn't have the margin to lead Bible studies, serve in homeless shelters, or do missions around the world or in her community.

But what she can't fully see is the impact of the ministry she's doing right now. Moms, your job is the most full-time ministry anyone could ever do. Those little disciples you're raising will change the world, and every day you influence whether they'll change it for the better. Teaching them to be brave and kind in the face of bullies will change their schools. Giving them chores around the house, money to spend, save, and give, and expectations now will help them change their workplaces later. Demonstrating repsect, patience, forgivness, and fun in your marriage, will impact their families when they're grown. Training up those kiddos to love their enemies is the best thing anyone could do to fight terrorism. 

Mom, thank you for...well, EVERYTHING! Living and loving like Jesus day in and day out.

And mamas, you may not be honored with volunteer banquets now, but the cumulative effect of all the tedious tasks will be incredible! There are no vacations, few restroom breaks, and no salary, but your service is soooo invaluable.

Not a Birth Story

Five years ago today, I went to see a lawyer about a little girl. I've told some of you my story, our story, but I don't think I've ever written it down. It seems like it was a lifetime ago. It basically was another world. I was living in Bolivia, South America and everything was in Spanish and on laid-back Latin time. I went to ask Dr. Freddy (lawyers in Bolivia are called Doctor) if I could adopt an eight-year-old girl from a local orphanage. It was the fleece I was laying out before God after two months of praying and seeking wise counsel. Since August, when my dear friend, Heidi, told me that my sponsor child, Angie, was becoming adoptable, and I felt the nudging of her elbow in my rib cage, or maybe the tugging of the Holy Spirit on my heart, I'd been asking God and others if I should take her home. 

At first, I prayed for Angie to get a family, as every good sponsor would. Then God answered with a question, as He often does, "Why not you?" 

Some people told me 'not me' because I was single. Others said 'not me' because I was a foreigner. Still others told me 'YES me.' So I went to talk to Freddy on the recommendation from my pastor and friend who had used him to adopt his son. I was ready for the lawyer to tell me it was impossible so I could have some closure on this chapter of my prayer life, so I could begin to pray for Angie to get another family, an easier family, easier for me at least. But that's not what God had in mind. After an hour-long consult, Freddy's words were "I'll have your daughter to you in a month." 

I'll never forget those words, or the state of near hyperventilation that consumed me as I descended the steps from his office. I remember making sure that she wouldn't have the chance to be adopted by a two-parent family, because I didn't want to stand in the way of her having a father. And I remember only half-joking that other mothers get nine months to prepare!

So, our story began. December 1st, one month later, I was granted custody of a beautiful eight-year-old girl. Six months from then, the adoption was final. But it wasn't as simple as that. The process was all in Spanish, and legal Spanish may as well have been Chinese for me. More than the paperwork and the hoops I had to jump through though, the struggles were emotional. Angie and I had a 12-day honeymoon period. Followed by six months of intensifying stress. The books I read said the first six months were the worst, so we held on. But it didn't get better in six months. It didn't get better after a year. At a year and a half I got married and it got worse. After three years, I read Jen Hatmaker's  blog post about their two years since adoption.  And I cried. I cried because she was giving others hope that at two years things would get better, and that had not been our story. And I cried for the dozens of commenters who hadn't found peace for their families after years and years either. 

Today, marks five years since the day I asked if Angie could be my family. And today, we've finally hit our stride. It's nearly guaranteed that seconds after I post this, we will have a monumental breakdown, but for the most part we've found our groove. It wasn't overnight, there wasn't a magic formula, but for those of you who've been asking and praying; the Lord has brought us so far.

I'm writing this now, for two reasons. 1) Because I owe it to Angie. After years of telling people how much we've struggled, it's time I tell people how far she's come. How far we've come. How much we've improved, she's improved and I've improved. How the tantrums have subsided almost entirely. How the fear has mostly been replaced with trust. Not with the trust that means just enough comfort to act out, but instead enough comfort to ask questions and be vulnerable, and stay calm. Trust that maybe we really do have her best interests in mind. And although the trauma's never gonna disappear, the scars it left are fading and its hold on her is loosening.

And 2) To give others hope. There's been a campaign going around social media to end mommy wars, to normalize the differences in parenting little ones. I want to add to that conversation. Not only will everyone's birth story, baby story, and toddler story vary, but everyone's adoption journey will look different too. 

It's quite possible your honeymoon period will never end. Or it's very likely your first six months will be the hardest, just like the books say. Maybe your path will smooth out in two years like the Hatmakers'. Or there's a chance it will take five like ours. And honestly, maybe it will never get easy for your family. But precious adoptive mommies and daddies, even if this last version becomes your story, you've still done the right thing. No matter how hard life seems now, I can almost guarantee your child's journey would have been darker, so much darker, if you weren't in it.

I believe in the ministry you're doing 24 hours every day, I believe it is the most holistic ministry anyone can do. And because you probably haven't heard it enough, Thank You.

Thank you for serving with your whole self, ALL the time, with no end coming. Thank you for loving as an action and not a feeling. And thank you for doing the hardest work that should be so rewarding but sometimes isn't; parenting a child someone else has hurt. Thank you.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” -Galatians‬ ‭6:9‬ ‭NIV‬‬

8 Months of Love and Cuddles

It seems like this month our BIG baby transformed into a little boy. 

At 8 months, Zy's 2.5 teeth are enough to draw blood if your finger happens to be in the wrong place, but not enough for him to enjoy eating any food, at least not any that's intended for him.

He's sitting up well enough to play with his toys from a new vantage point, as long as someone's close enough to catch him as he falls, or comfort him after his head grazes the ground. 

He's getting just a touch of separation anxiety. His new skill of reaching his arms up is precious and helpful when I'm extracting him from the car seat, but bittersweet when he reaches for family when someone unfamiliar has hold of him.

We've been SO blessed that he hasn't been sick even once in his first 8 months of life, except the nagging diaper rash we've been fighting for a couple weeks.

Just like his new friend, the dog Ruby, his favorite toy is not a toy at all, but a discarded water bottle. They both enjoy gnawing on their Sophie giraffes as well.

His favorite word at the moment is Dadda, in the form of "Daddadaadaaddada," which pretty much melts Jon's heart every time.

Watching him explore and investigate EVERYTHING within his reach, breathes a fresh dose of wonder back into all of us. I can't wait to see where his curiosity takes him. There appears to be a lot more than meets the eye going on up there in that huge head!

Just for his fan club, here are a few extra pics to show you just how grown up he's gotten.

It must be instinct to close your eyes when being licked in the face.

"You can have a lick of my Sophie if you want, its squeaker still works.

This little tongue is always working overtime these days.

The equine term "cribbing" makes a lot more sense now.

TEETH!!

Finally riding in the cart like a big boy, makes such a difference 

Daddy giving Zy a little driving lesson at his favorite store, The Home Depot!

He appears to take driving very seriously.

Myth Busters

"You can't spoil a newborn."

Well, it looks like we've busted that myth out of the water!

I'm not sure who coined this phrase, but it sure spread like wildfire. It's been quoted to me so many times I googled it to see when "newborn" ended, so I'd know when my infant was likely to suffer permanent damage from my doting.

Even my Baby App updates remind me that our precious angel from heaven is unspoilable, assuaging any guilt I feel for snuggling him "too" much. And then there are family and friends posting quotes like this on my Facebook wall:

You don't have to tell me twice, you don't even have to make it rhyme. I was on board this train from Day 1. "Sidekick" has reached whole new levels of togetherness in our relationship. 

Although Jon and I both STRUGGLED with thumb sucking until approximately middle school age, we let, even encouraged, Zy to find and use his thumb to his heart's content. It's cute! We'll worry about the price of braces later, for now, he can't be spoiled.

And sleeping. This is how your babies all nap, right?

The longest I've been away from our 7-month-old is ~3 hours, and the longest I've slept since he was born is 5. We're hooked on each other. And I'm afraid it's starting to show.

Jon kept Isaiah Sunday morning so I could host a fellowship breakfast for CVM downtown before church. He cried for an hour after I left, Isaiah that is, I'm not sure how long Jon cried.

We've dropped Isaiah off in the church nursery 4 weekends now. Our Child ID has been called (he was so upset we had to go pick him up) 3 of those 4 weekends!!

If you've met him, you know he's the sweetest thing since candy corn. The number one question I get when I have him at tennis matches, parties, or conference booths is, "Is he always this happy?" 

He thought he was hot stuff as the Associate Dean of Auburn's vet school hauled him off for a tour of the booths in the exhibit hall. 

I guess the answer is, 'Apparently, only when I'm around.' Our child is behind in most milestones such as holding his head up, sitting unassisted, and eating anything but paper and cell phones, but it appears he's precocious in the area of separation anxiety. So, don't expect to see me without my tiny assistant for another few years. Looks like we'll be enjoying church from the Cry Room for quite some time. This is pretty much my motto anyway:

"Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift?" -Psalms 127:3 TM

7 Months of Perfection

I see now why 7 is the number for perfection in the Bible. Although, I didn't think there was anything wrong with 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, or 1 months, 7 is pretty awesome.

Since, it's still difficult to determine the exact lessons Zy's processing, I thought I'd jot down some of what I've been learning recently.

I'm learning that although the hours in a day may not be, kisses and hugs are infinite.  

I'm learning that even though your baby's a voracious drinker, that does not guarantee he will instantly be a voracious eater. More than a month into feeding solids, and Zy's yet to like anything we've offered him, except his teething carrot, which may as well be plastic for all he knows.

Mostly I'm learning that against all odds, and I'd bet most of your predictions, I'm the biggest pushover any baby's ever had for a mom. True to my no-nonsense personality I'm a pretty tough, direct, consistent, for-your-own-good teenager mom. But when it comes to Sweet Cheeks here, I'm a puddle. Like, a mushy puddle of apple sauce. And now that I'm often covered in apple sauce it seems fitting.

This kid will likely never sleep more than 5 hours in a row, cause I'm just convinced he'll starve overnight if I don't feed him at least once. I mean, if I let him start metabolizing some of those fat stores in his sleep, his thighs won't be nearly as squishy and wonderful.

I'm learning that I'm supposed to let him struggle and figure things out for himself, but that's a real struggle for me. I'll probably have to carry him to college cause I can't stand to leave anything far enough out of his reach that he has to move to get it. Plus, I barely let him out of my arms. This technique is surely terribly useless in building self confidence or mobility, but excellent for maintaining all that aforementioned thigh chub!

I've also been learning that my better half doesn't have any more of a backbone than I do when it comes to denying our munchkin. I've started firmly telling Zy "No" when he drops things off his high chair, and Jon's sure I'm scarring him for life.

I'm learning that just like so many people told us, it does just keep getting better. I didn't think it was possible.

I'm gaining empathy, acquiring patience, achieving gentleness, and finding so much joy.

And I'm learning more and more every day about God's unconditional love for us. At the University of Tennessee's vet school Bible study last week, we closed with How Deep the Father's Love for Us, and as I held my only son close, I teared up thinking of just how vast is His love for us that He gave His only Son to make us His treasure.


And now, what you're probably really here for, some photos of Zy's 7th month:

7 month birthday smorgasbord!



Smorgasbord gone terribly wrong.



Does anyone else see a young Otis from Andy Griffith here?







Made a new friend Elijah in Tennessee.



Trying to say "Bbbbbb," like his new friend, but only succeeding in spitting a lot.

Sissy's gonna have him in shape in no time.



Had a sweet visit from his doting great grandparents.







So grown up.

But still my spoiled rotten cuddle bug.