Buena Vista

Last Friday, special visitor in tow, I went to pick up Ange after school with plans to hit one of our favorite hotspots for out-of-town guests, the sand dunes. When her teacher handed me something I'd really not prepared for at all, her first report card. It was a bit of a tense moment as Angie, Jon, and her teacher all watched me scan the results and digest the fact that Ange is basically failing English class. Her teacher comforted me that it's only the first of three reports for the semester, and told me that the biggest problem is that she's talking to her friends and not paying attention in class. (Strangely, she got great marks in the "Respects Teacher" category.)

So, we talked once again about how we're gonna speak more English at home, we discussed how she's not gonna talk to anyone during class, and we clarified that our fun trip to play at the sand dunes was not a reward for those grades. Then we scheduled her appointment to get her eyes checked something I'd been meaning to do for a couple months.

She whined and complained and threatened not to get out of the car on the way to the optometrist. She tried her best to read those little letters on the eye test, and she sulked a bit during the picking out frames phase. But I think it helped that I was so jealous that she gets to wear them and I don't, and it definitely didn't hurt that we ended up with the cutest little glasses in the world, and of course she's no less beautiful than ever wearing them. And then ironically, she whined and complained because I didn't get a chance to pick them up the very next day. I can't win!

Yesterday, she tried them out for the first time at school. Of course there was one little boy who made fun of her. Yet again my ignorance of Spanish saved me, as I wanted to say "who is he? I'll beat him up!" but didn't know how to translate that. So instead we talked about how much Jesus got made fun of, and how he loved his enemies anyway. A lesson that's easier to explain than do because loving the enemies of your child is a whole 'nother level of agape!

Back to Work

So, I really haven't been away from work, the new semester's been up and running at the university for a month now, but it's back to work for you guys since you haven't heard about anything but Ange for months!

The campus ministry's going strong. The university itself is having its share of struggles between marches, strikes, and rising unrest in the students and faculty who are fighting to keep their autonomy as the government threatens to seize it. In the midst of cancelled classes and constant uncertainty we just put on a very successful conference called "How to Get Good Grades and Have Fun," we have a growing new Bible study, a steady stream of new students in the English classes, and an increasing interest in the surgical training I offer weekly.

This week I had a guest in town who accompanied me on my afternoon of surgeries with the students. In attempts to prevent passing out at the sight of the needles, he concentrated on staying upright by snapping some pictures.

Students from any semester are welcome to attend, so we have a variable level of expertise, but proper restraint is an area they can always use more work in. As is injection location and technique.

Placing IV catheters is a simple procedure, but not such a common one here. Using only injectable anesthesia for the spays and neuters makes IV access ideal, but I also have the added incentive to demonstrate and let the students, and sometimes professors, practice.

I'm willing to be flexible and surgerize the way the Bolivians do in some aspects, such as using IV Halatal as my induction, a drug I'm not sure I'd even heard of in the past, but one standard I don't let slide is sterility. After a year of somewhat weekly surgeries, I think even the new students come in knowing my reputation. The surgeon and assistants always wear sterile gloves, we shave the surgical site and clean it 3 times with iodine alternating with alcohol, we use a drape and sterilized instruments (I'm pretty sure we're the only ones in the entire hospital that use the autoclave), we open things sterilely, and only the people gloved in touch anything in the surgical site.

Since we're on our own, I also get to quickly train them to be anesthesia experts minus ECG, pulse ox, doppler, etc. We've always got the good old fashioned stethoscope and the tongue pulse.

And when we nick the spleen (whoops) we're glad we have that IV access to give a little fluid boost while the body is doing its clotting miracle.

Surgery instruction is just one more thing we offer to build relationships with the students and show them Christ's love in a tangible way.

"Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms." -1 Peter 4:10

For those of you who were here looking for your fix of Angelica thanks for bearing with us, check out the 20-something new photos I just added to Facebook. ;)

Happy Father’s Day to Me (and Jesus)

Today is Bolivian Father’s Day, which means this week has pretty much been Fathers' Week at school. It started when Angelica had to take a picture with her papá to school. Then in music class they drew a picture of their dads. In language class they talked about their fathers. And for homework she had to write a card to her daddy. Oh my!

In our 2.5 months together I’ve often thought of myself as a better dad than mom. Having a high pain tolerance does not make for a super compassionate mommy, nor does being really cheap help me empathize when she wants multiple band-aids a day. Having never gone to the nurse’s office in all of my years of education, nor taken a single sick day that I can remember, makes it difficult to understand why she’s already been to the nurse’s office twice in her first month of school. Fortunately, I don’t really know how to call her a “wimp” or tell her to “man up” in Spanish, so I just tell her she’s “very sensitive” which is probably more PC anyway.

However, as tough and scrappy as I may be, I know I can’t really be her dad. But there’s someone in Ange’s life who can. And when it came time to write that card to her papí, she knew just who to write it to; the Father to the fatherless. I’ve corrected spelling and added punctuation for you but here's what she said about Him:

“Mi papá es increible, es bueno, cariñoso. Es bonito hablar con Dios. Muy amable es el Todopoderoso.” (Translation: "My dad is incredible, he's good, he's caring. It's beautiful to talk with God. The Almighty is very nice.")

“Father to the fatherless, defender of widows—this is God, whose dwelling is holy.” -Psalm 68:5

(Pictured are the crafts she made in school this week for her Daddy--me!)

Manis and Pedis

On May 30th, 2008 I met this beautiful young lady.

On December 24th, 2009 God brought this little angel into my life.

On April 19th, 2010 I couldn't choose between them and therefore started sponsoring them both at Talita Cumi.

Now, nearly a year later, Ange and I are taking advantage of every opportunity to be with our dear friend, Jenny.

Last week we had her over for dinner and games. Today, we visited the salon where she works to get our nails done. Maybe next week we'll need some highlights...

Angie's first professional manicure <$3, a pedi for me <$3, a lovely visit with a dear friend = priceless!

First Slumber Party, Thousandth Cultural Faux Pas

So Carnaval here is kind of a big deal. The whole city shuts down for four days. It remains questionable whether the whole city needs to shut down or everyone just uses the "bedlam" as an excuse to retreat into their houses for a long weekend of solitude. Our church decreed it too risky to get close to the potential danger, or more accurately shooting paint, and cancelled service for Sunday and prayer group for Monday. As I knew Ange would want nothing but to shoot me with water guns, spray foam, and water balloons all weekend, I thought maybe it'd be a good idea to bring in reinforcements.

So, on our way to small group last Thursday I mentioned to Angie's little friend Carla, that maybe she could come over sometime to play, maybe even a sleepover. When I turned to ask her mom's opinion of the idea, I learned I was once again unintentionally gringofying Bolivia. Turns out not only has almost 9 year-old Carla never spent the night away from her parents, but also that Bolivians don't have slumber parties, well except the "ricos." Ugh, I'd just classified myself with the rich people. But after the great success of Ange and Carla's first pajama party I think this phenomenon's gonna catch on, for better or worse. I'm really not trying to impose North American culture.

Did you ever have trouble at sleepovers? I remember really enjoying them until the morning when I would wake up before 8am, and stare at the ceiling for hours until the other girls finally got up around noon (at least being a morning person is beneficial in almost every other situation.) And I remember that whenever my sister spent the night out she would be randomly and rapidly hit with a stomach bug, and not just in her head or as an excuse, there were real symptoms if you know what I mean.

Angelica and Carla did great overall, but there was a bit of an awkward low point when, during our showing of How to Train Your Dragon, Ange started sobbing UNCONTROLLABLY in fear that they were gonna hurt Toothless. Oh my, the child has a heart for animals just liker her momma, and she's no less compassionate towards the imaginary variety. After previewing the last half hour I was able to assure the girls the next morning that everything was gonna be just fine and we were all able to finish the movie without any more tears. Now it's time to get back to work and school and fighting to the death with the little munchkin to get moving in the morning. But it sure has been a great four days of water, relaxation, spray foam, visiting with friends, more water, cleaning everything we could find, and lots and lots of playing.

The Illusion

I read an article recently about how Facebook paints bright, shiny, happy images of everyone's lives. Or more accurately how we paint ourselves this way by posting only the best angles, and de-tagging the less flattering, not only of photos, but of the account we share of our journey. I felt convicted, not because I've air-brushed in smiles or exaggerated adventures of our story, but because I haven't divulged the hairier moments. Partly because who really wants to read the negative stuff and who takes pictures when life is boring, but also because I probably do feel I have something to prove to those skeptics that didn't think this adopting as a single mom thing was a good idea, because it really really was! ;)

For raw honesty's sake, I'll admit that we may be going through a "testing mommy's limits" phase, but I'm pretty sure we're on the way out of it, and I'm fairly sure I caused it by being possibly a bit permissive the first couple weeks with my angel. So, I'm learning how to be firm and sort of how to discipline, or at least how to threaten discipline strongly. And she's learning when to obey, and maybe with practice on both our parts, it will someday consistently be at the first request.

One of our biggest struggles, I've recently recognized (and I think recognizing might be half the battle), is that I am a morning person and she, to put it mildly, is NOT. Which means in the morning she is a bit of a bear, and ridiculously unhurried, but in the afternoon when I'm on the slower side, she is wound up. Until it comes to homework time of course, at which point she becomes very unhurried again. To add to this, these little mini-people are very inefficient which, as some of you may know, complements my own personality interestingly.

School has been a learning curve for us both as well. Not only did I decide to adopt as a first-time single mom, an 8 year-old instead of a baby, but I decided to do it in Spanish, and in a very different culture. Maybe those skeptics were onto something... Everyday when I pick the munchkin up from school she tells me she needs money for something else that I may or may not understand; more books or school supplies that weren't on the original list, her white uniform that she stains EVERY day, or now her ballet suit for her mandatory ballet class. "Isn't it pretty?" she asks me, yes, but $40-pretty?!

So, God is teaching us both a lot. Unfortunately, I'm afraid we both still have a lot to learn, so this process, with its growing pains, might take awhile. In the meantime a little voice calls "Mami, Mami, Mami," all day every 20 seconds or so, as if seeking reassurance that through thick and thin I'm not going anywhere. I better go convince her with a giant hug and maybe some tickling.

I feel I owe you an apology

For the time I saw the woman in Wal-mart, with the frazzled hair, yelling at three kids climbing in and out of her cart, and I thought "how provincial" (in a Belle from Beauty and the Beast sort of way, where one's life consists only of their narrow unsophisticated view from their kitchen window.) I'm sorry, I have little to no control over my child and the grocery cart either.

For every time I saw your family of 5+ children and thought "don't they know there are ways to prevent that." I'm sorry, I rarely see kids that need a home now without thinking about expanding our little family.

For each time you parents had to leave the event at 8:30pm and I didn't understand why your kids couldn't stay up till 11 just one school night. I owe you an apology, you were right, they can't stay up till 11.

When I thought "can't they just get a babysitter?" When I resented the hassle of what to do with the children during home group, or the burden of trying to staff children's church. I'm sorry, it's all making more sense now.

To those of you who declined invitations to social or service events because you needed to spend time with your family, and I thought "don't you see them all the time?" I'm sorry, there is a difference between sharing a house and quality time.

For the nights I thought you were a little obsessive about bedtime when you left somewhere early to tuck your kids in. I'm sorry, I haven't missed a night of kissing her on the forehead yet.

For the moms who make a huge deal about your first night away from your little one, I'm sorry I thought you were overreacting, I don't look forward to trying to sleep without Ange within earshot.

For the times I read in the Bible that children are a reward from the Lord, and questioned His sanity, I'm sorry Lord, I don't doubt you anymore.

Because carrying her in from the car and tucking her into her bed, is the sweetest way to end a long day. Because watching a movie with her hiding her face in my hands during the scary or romantic parts is the best way to watch a movie. Because an evening of Connect Four on the couch, with her cheating, and laughing hysterically might just be the best way to spend an evening.

On Sunday, she tried to give Baby Jaqueline (this 9 pound 1-year old pictured below) one of her Barbies, her handheld pinball machine and a necklace for her birthday, because she might just be the most generous little beauty ever! (We ended up compromising by wrapping José her stuffed yellow dog.)

"Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from Him. Children born to a young man are like arrows in a warrior’s hands. How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them!"

-Psalm 127:3-5