Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption
The carnival rides are rolling in. And, the carnies are masterfully assembling them (mind you, I feel much better about the rides if I just don’t watch this part).
Meanwhile, my children are brilliant. I may or may not have spent a good bit of money at BJs to help start up the business.
Don’t worry. We’ll make sure Lydia isn’t recruited to join the Majestic Midways troop. Clearly, she’d be a strategic asset.
I’m overlooking the evil-looking red eyes and focusing on the hearts and kissable lips.
Everyone wants to be called “lovey” at some point. “Awesome” spelled wrong is pretty great too.
I love that she thinks my favorite movie is cartoons. I’ll let her go on thinking that. I have never sat through a whole episode of “My Little Pony,” however. But, that may be the favorite show of someone else I know.
“and always puts her hands around me” — “arms” may sound better but the message melts my heart.
Oh, sweet girl. We’ve been prepping for next week’s trip and reminding each other of how sweet our reunion will be. Still makes me ache a little though.
I can’t imagine that she’d ever have trouble with homework given how she spells “trouble.” :)
Yup. Me too. A shrinking machine has been on my Amazon wish list for years, but no one has ordered it for me yet. Whenever I mention wanting that shrinking machine, Lydia giggles and yells, “No! No! You can’t shrink me! I don’t want to be shrinked! I am growing bigger and bigger!” Her ending her Mother’s Day book with the phrase “and I do want to be srinckt” is the sweetest gift of all. She does want to be my baby forever.
My Mother’s Day morning would have been sweet, but whatever it would have been was made infinitely sweeter by the first image I saw before even getting out of bed this morning.
He has his family.
The sweet boy I met about a year and a half ago who I called “the big brother” is now the big brother I hoped he would be…and he’s wearing the shirt to make sure he and the world knows it.
As Lydia would say, “BOOYA.”
My heart is full this Mother’s Day. Everyday, I get to do what no one else in the world gets to do: I get to pour into these 4 people. I get to be their mom.
On top of that, I get to help children find those people called to do that job for them and I get to come alongside moms and dads and children and help them go deeper and delight in each other. All that combined leaves me with a joy unspeakable today.
He has a family. He’s finally the big brother I knew he could be.
This week’s calendar has all sorts of blocked-off times when I get to sit with families to encourage them along in the right direction.
After longing and longing and fearing I may never be a mother, I have four children who are totally marvelous in every sense of the word.
Man, it’s a good day.
My mother’s day flowers, sent to me by Ian’s family. Crazy sweet of them and so sweet smelling that my house is filled with the scent of grace from them.
Saying goodbye to the little boy we hosted in December was harder than we expected. Hosting was a little harder than we expected. For days after he left, Mark and I just kept talking about him, processing the experience, rehashing again what it was like to watch our kids serve him so well, imagining together how changed he will be when his new family brings him home for good, resting after hovering over a toddler again. As we were still debriefing, our kids were debriefing in their own way. They didn’t rest really at all; they started talking about doing it again.
“When we host another kid, let’s make sure we….”
“Next time we host, can we…?”
They were in their own process. Maybe they’d let it go. Maybe “normal life” would move forward—homework, school plays, birthdays, softball—and they’d move forward and let it go. But, they didn’t so much. Instead of forgetting about the idea, they actually widened their idea, opening themselves up to hosting a child who might be a little harder in their view.
And, now, here I am, a pile of papers in front of me with a list of things I haven’t collected in a while—marriage certificate, health forms, background checks, clearances. All with this little face in mind.
He’s 8 years old. His favorite color is yellow. He likes to play games. And, his favorite animal is a kitty cat. And, apparently, that was all we needed to know to invite this guy to join us at the pool, play with us at the park, build Lego creations, ride bikes around our driveway, and sleep in the bottom bunk for a month. All that’s way more important than language anyway, right? (Did I mention he doesn’t speak English? Our iPhone translation apps are about to get a serious workout.)
M.Y. has two best friends. The three of them are adorable together. Seriously.
Both of his buddies are available to host too. And, as of this morning, no one has said yes to them and invited them for Legos and bike riding. And, we’ve only got one bottom bunk. Do you have one?
Email Sarah at Madison Adoption Associates if you live in PA or MD and feel the nudge to learn more about hosting one of these little men. Madison is so interested in getting the three of them hosted that they are offering a significant grant to families who commit this week.
We’d love to do this with others. It’s best for the boys—and for us so that we can be reminded that we aren’t crazy…or that crazy…something along those lines at least.