I Need Thee, Mommy

You know your English learning software's getting a little outdated when one of your English-as-a-Second-Language children's few English phrases is "I Need Thee, Mommy." She may have been a bit hooked on the Jars of Clay cover of the old hymn, "I Need Thee Every Hour," and I may not have done the best job of explaining the translation of Thee...

May 8th came and went virtually unnoticed by Ange as Mother's Day, but she only forgot May 27th, the Bolivian equivalent, until school when her teachers sent her home with her craft/my gift, strikingly similar to my Father's Day gift/craft, but nonetheless lovely.

Today, we took 3 dozen roses into church for a little surprise for the mamás. As Paul called the mothers up front to pray for them we armed each kiddo offstage with a rose to take to their mom with a hug and a sincere thank you. (Don't mind Paul in this picture, he's thrown his back out, otherwise he would surely be standing and respecting the hard working madres of La Viña.)

My little angel picked out the rose I'd earlier said was my favorite. Sometimes she couldn't be more wonderful!

There are times though when she could, if we're to be perfectly honest, be more wonderful. And for these growing pains that we struggle through most days, and for the paperwork that we're hoping so desperately to finish in time to visit Kentucky for a week in July, we would love your prayers. More specifically, you could pray that every day be as flawless as today, but without the requisite bribe of this really cool shirt.

What's in a Name?

When I first began this adventure with my Angie, there was talk of changing her name. It's a common thing to do when one adopts a baby, and turns out it's not an uncommon practice in older children either. My friend who works in a home in Cochabamba that has many adoptions, says the parents almost always give their little ones different names and the kids love their new identity and fresh start.

At first I thought it seemed a little crazy to change an 8 year-old's name. I didn't even change the name of my 6 month-old adopted dog 'cause I didn't want to confuse her. But then I found out "Angelica" was also the name of Angie's biological mother, of whom to this day I've unfortunately never heard a good story. So, I asked Angelica if she liked her name, and I learned she did not. We thought about a few similar options like Angelina (which now that I know what a ballerina I have, would have been very appropriate), but the problem wasn't so much Ange, but me. After a year of calling her by one name I couldn't think of her as something completely different. Fortunately, she loves "Angie", which she still seems to think is the English way to say Angelica, instead of just the nickname that it really is. So we've stayed with that and added a middle name, a concept not so common here, but seemingly very fun for the little Angel.

Angelica Kira Spears

Kira was the name of my first Spanish teacher, and now dear dear friend. It's a name that works well in Spanish, which is a great benefit when Spears is so difficult that you often have to say "Like Britney" to help people understand. And it's the name of Angie's one and only sweet beautiful aunt, Kiki.

The name Kira was a bit of a sensitive subject in our house growing up. My sister, Kira, never seemed to fully appreciate its weirdness, and definitely not its significance. In high school when I soaked up every word of Ayn Rand with a passion that bordered on unhealthy, I coveted the name Kira, as I read the book it came from, "We The Living."

When I told my sister the story of Ange's past, and how she arrived at the orphanage, she was the first to notice how remarkable it was. How incredible for an 8 year-old to recognize the darkness in her own home, the oppression in her family, and most impressive to me; the idea that her life didn't have to be like that. She left everything she knew for something completely unknown with the hope that it would be better. At 8 years old, she pursued her own freedom.

My sister surely wasn't thinking of this at the time, but that is exactly what her name stands for. Kira, the character in "We the Living" lived in communist Russia where she fought for freedom until the very end, trying to escape the oppressive darkness and start fresh in another country.

Angie loves her middle name so much that sometimes she just labels herself "Kira" when she draws pictures of the family. I pray she also recognizes the freedom we have in Christ, and the blessings He's showering on her everyday.

A little bit of HUGE news!!

I would like to introduce, drum roll please... Angelica Kira Spears! Yes, after our successful adoption audience Monday morning, I can legally say there is one more Spears in the world. And she already fits our team motto, "you can always tell a Spears, but you can't tell 'em much."

Happy belated Birthday Kiki, your first niece, and possibly first namesake!

Happy belated Birthday and Mother's Day Momma, your first nieta!

Happy belated Birthday Paula, Beth, Kenny, your first grandniece (is that a word)?

Happy early Birthday Heidi, Byron, Jeanie, ditto.

Happy early Father's Day and B-day Daddo, your first grandbaby and next tennis protégé!

Bubby and Daddad, just think maybe spoiling a great granddaughter's even more fun than granddaughters, one way to find out!

Cori, Josie, Rachel, start working on your Spanish, cause there's someone very excited to play with you in July!!!!!!!!!

Thank you all for all your prayers and support. Maybe, Lord willing, some of you will be meeting her face to face in just a couple short months...

(Forgive me if you already read this on FB, Blogger wasn't cooperating so I'm just now getting the news up here.)

Mamá

Happy Mother’s Day to all you extremely hard working, self-sacrficing, compassionate, gentle, loving mommas out there, and especially to mine; by far the best mother, role model, friend, and now grandmother ever.

Since coming through the obligatory adolescent years of wholly undervaluing one’s parents I don’t feel that I’ve lacked much in the area of appreciating my momma for the awesome person and mother that she is. But since I’ve become a mother I’ve been treasuring her more and more, and more.

One thing I’ve always loved about her is that she listens so well you resolve your own problem without her ever having to tell you you're wrong. I can call her with a seemingly legitimate complaint, but a complaint nonetheless, and by the time I’ve ranted and raved she’s said exactly the right words to validate my pain without completely condoning my attitude, that I very often recognize my own selfishness, without her ever having to mention it. I'm not sure that she's ever complained in her life, but somehow she leaves room for me to come to her with anything without being judged. I've never met anyone else who does that so well.

I, obviously, can’t ever guilt trip Angie with such maternal classics as “48 hours of labor and this is the thanks I get?!” “I brought you into this world child, and I can take you out of it!” But that doesn't mean I'm not tempted when I’m feeling completely taken advantage of. However, Mom had some serious ammunition in that area, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a fun labor, especially with the added pressure of getting this birthing checked off by 5pm so everyone could focus on the more important event of that day -- UL winning the NCAA basketball championship. Not to mention that I earned the nickname Piranha shortly after birth, for reasons I’m sure I don’t need to explain. But the only way you’d know these stories would be from friends or family members that were there, because she’s never once brought them up, let alone used them against me.

Not to mention the notes on the napkins in the lunch box, the Snickers bar surprise snacks before tennis meets, the care packages, cards, and candy for EVERY imaginable holiday, now the babysitting via Skype when this mommy needs a little rest, and the innumerable acts of love that have gone unnoticed but shaped me into exactly who I am today. I could go on and on, but I know that's not what she wants.

The point is, that whenever I’m lost for what to do with Angelica, I think back to what my mom did in the same situation, or I ask in one of the multiple emails we still exchange everyday. Now if only I had half her patience, gentleness, kindness or humility, Angie would be destined for perfection.

By the way, our final adoption audience with the judge is scheduled for tomorrow, so if you could please pray that I can give my perfect Mom her first grandchild as a belated Mother's Day gift, that'd be wonderful. Thank you!!