tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042039366100622232024-03-21T21:44:29.847-07:00we're all yours: an adoption storyHaleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-24753519712668944332012-04-18T14:33:00.011-07:002012-04-18T15:12:46.277-07:00three and outZ turned THREE last week!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Mpqyoe9AR0E5bhRjSGAJS0ds5mWqA439oYgeJvtvlxc84w08jYg7luG8lMF4cM9AMjHGVhKDvAszbeG4OsFH9Vh8kGJ6CSIRNWRlllYyXEvBSGQ9Utendx7vd0DH2BOIUKVSY-elooE/s1600/IMG_6702.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Mpqyoe9AR0E5bhRjSGAJS0ds5mWqA439oYgeJvtvlxc84w08jYg7luG8lMF4cM9AMjHGVhKDvAszbeG4OsFH9Vh8kGJ6CSIRNWRlllYyXEvBSGQ9Utendx7vd0DH2BOIUKVSY-elooE/s400/IMG_6702.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732862796605175378" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfhzFtRopCqZu62CO5ogvLpt9rcF0C2UwLBWVRcXPNuxXjnfZnxr2tT4JY5e49DrM-IkkzYMAOvRcSgIMB2kRofS6juQo7RSB58HhQpGv9ZN0S61rSWjOjgdTF3KBuk21NguCHJQiZkto/s1600/IMG_6667.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfhzFtRopCqZu62CO5ogvLpt9rcF0C2UwLBWVRcXPNuxXjnfZnxr2tT4JY5e49DrM-IkkzYMAOvRcSgIMB2kRofS6juQo7RSB58HhQpGv9ZN0S61rSWjOjgdTF3KBuk21NguCHJQiZkto/s400/IMG_6667.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732861707504977362" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Angry Birds cupcakes... he pronounces it "Amy Bugs"</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ARz9i2IBbX-xNLarrW26erln0fvat_S99CZCPVL8v5OMfBZXRuZGhCR7nO6ULQyP6vv8DowZ11a-LUFJfI4BFLnLqlRRrSPKF1HRLH9HMcxCOE1DaPKj7hrRYhMSUZsdvje8kTrAh-I/s1600/IMG_6708.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ARz9i2IBbX-xNLarrW26erln0fvat_S99CZCPVL8v5OMfBZXRuZGhCR7nO6ULQyP6vv8DowZ11a-LUFJfI4BFLnLqlRRrSPKF1HRLH9HMcxCOE1DaPKj7hrRYhMSUZsdvje8kTrAh-I/s400/IMG_6708.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732863477081188130" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJH56YYgfgkljn-qn91I4QUFuYDsFt6-T_-ql4DG6dcwLffGidulPspEMYXi4h_jXjjGKP5X6uSPky3DgVXurxyd8KGHtI9CniWnf9IT-vddwiaVaMa0IB1AkNsXQWHLg7AUBwAzyLC-k/s1600/IMG_6720.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirk5GbvilyY9vzFGlYb-ELLvXlee1DqUjX707igETCzGr1YYK_epWVXEVTD5CJWl_QIzo7rNuWbN_zoSy8mPBPadoaOzwMyE0giS2swIy4X_V74m2-gfVrODdRcTLp35RvKfyaftvrm_w/s1600/IMG_6699.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirk5GbvilyY9vzFGlYb-ELLvXlee1DqUjX707igETCzGr1YYK_epWVXEVTD5CJWl_QIzo7rNuWbN_zoSy8mPBPadoaOzwMyE0giS2swIy4X_V74m2-gfVrODdRcTLp35RvKfyaftvrm_w/s400/IMG_6699.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732862780441791538" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJH56YYgfgkljn-qn91I4QUFuYDsFt6-T_-ql4DG6dcwLffGidulPspEMYXi4h_jXjjGKP5X6uSPky3DgVXurxyd8KGHtI9CniWnf9IT-vddwiaVaMa0IB1AkNsXQWHLg7AUBwAzyLC-k/s1600/IMG_6720.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJH56YYgfgkljn-qn91I4QUFuYDsFt6-T_-ql4DG6dcwLffGidulPspEMYXi4h_jXjjGKP5X6uSPky3DgVXurxyd8KGHtI9CniWnf9IT-vddwiaVaMa0IB1AkNsXQWHLg7AUBwAzyLC-k/s400/IMG_6720.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732863492717509586" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Mpqyoe9AR0E5bhRjSGAJS0ds5mWqA439oYgeJvtvlxc84w08jYg7luG8lMF4cM9AMjHGVhKDvAszbeG4OsFH9Vh8kGJ6CSIRNWRlllYyXEvBSGQ9Utendx7vd0DH2BOIUKVSY-elooE/s1600/IMG_6702.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBaYJ_tRc4TfKYWOhSBDeAhG6MD5izaFsuOtmSi9qCAvOKGxUZ2OhP41ZHG0YI8OrQ15b08pW0LwrZPJPo8X7FW6kTEwyUn0EuJlmd9EgQcggaM0-Mdt3izyK3QQJUmb_bTeUTLARGfo/s1600/IMG_6680-001.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBaYJ_tRc4TfKYWOhSBDeAhG6MD5izaFsuOtmSi9qCAvOKGxUZ2OhP41ZHG0YI8OrQ15b08pW0LwrZPJPo8X7FW6kTEwyUn0EuJlmd9EgQcggaM0-Mdt3izyK3QQJUmb_bTeUTLARGfo/s400/IMG_6680-001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732861717983400338" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Playing with Papa</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZqDYuvZB4c0_mAnwPjoZJku9YhcZNykpaVDh3u3-T9Inuk0F3uJqP-Q4R7-PSTrGZk8GHN7WXvqbpGehFlZ-NxZ3o5dQszqj_VthygeIOGMg2cmND5p0TC8j_FOZRGmfH6BKXiZOQ7w/s1600/IMG_6690.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZqDYuvZB4c0_mAnwPjoZJku9YhcZNykpaVDh3u3-T9Inuk0F3uJqP-Q4R7-PSTrGZk8GHN7WXvqbpGehFlZ-NxZ3o5dQszqj_VthygeIOGMg2cmND5p0TC8j_FOZRGmfH6BKXiZOQ7w/s400/IMG_6690.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732861731948713954" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Shiro and Misr Wat for birthday dinner</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MxRbKMbg1W38C9ca3JiODgyzE7S7YpnbfLNl_maMxKMJtGWhOZnD4eqhOfmvX9krBeNMa6UED8N0QK9eYS6OGidr1Fd_gvtUdyGmNEEK3nNo26-W1fZh7CQS7Uu7gn8uPYAxQdltV0M/s1600/IMG_6639.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MxRbKMbg1W38C9ca3JiODgyzE7S7YpnbfLNl_maMxKMJtGWhOZnD4eqhOfmvX9krBeNMa6UED8N0QK9eYS6OGidr1Fd_gvtUdyGmNEEK3nNo26-W1fZh7CQS7Uu7gn8uPYAxQdltV0M/s400/IMG_6639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732861130796890466" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The kids randomly decided to put on Halloween costumes</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAowsv44GHSuYlYIVm355SXnm5fMae8nPcgDjQGs9FBN8GDHK2mQdrQ-GLOtO6pyzl6ZTPG8D7IWO2Z3tX5Suw84SC-iRz_Jn_PjYh5HagT-NmzjOC6SQjCFuBxdc2udJpyJrSioq-Vo/s1600/IMG_6637-001.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAowsv44GHSuYlYIVm355SXnm5fMae8nPcgDjQGs9FBN8GDHK2mQdrQ-GLOtO6pyzl6ZTPG8D7IWO2Z3tX5Suw84SC-iRz_Jn_PjYh5HagT-NmzjOC6SQjCFuBxdc2udJpyJrSioq-Vo/s400/IMG_6637-001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732861120187618946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXjidsjI6cJTRMidvscljfb3huYMtiDuE3mR7hLT86ouwgfnHOI_LPXe84qL75QLRrVZNWlht7PNvgbacEUgWnW1jwDqOWtaR50DNjTOMFfPr5qi3NASlEcXtP9_VuFI24GD52502JOes/s1600/IMG_6653.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXjidsjI6cJTRMidvscljfb3huYMtiDuE3mR7hLT86ouwgfnHOI_LPXe84qL75QLRrVZNWlht7PNvgbacEUgWnW1jwDqOWtaR50DNjTOMFfPr5qi3NASlEcXtP9_VuFI24GD52502JOes/s400/IMG_6653.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732861143790595762" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This was Z's last night wearing his 'snowboard' (foot brace to correct his club foot). Now that he is 3, he is done with the brace - yay!</span><br /><br />---<br /><br />In unrelated news, apparently I stopped blogging here. Truth be told... this is a bit of a farewell post, or at least a "see you later" post. I have been stretching myself creatively on another <a href="http://haleyballast.blogspot.com/">writing project</a>, and I don't seem to have the motivation or space in my head to keep writing here as well. Plus (for the moment anyway) I don't seem to have much to say. This isn't a traditional family blog, and I don't want to make it one. It's about our adoption journey, and although that journey with Z is a life-long story, I am happy to report that it is actually a pretty boring story right now, <span style="font-style: italic;">in a good way. </span>If you want to keep following our family, you're welcome to do so on f.acebook - just leave me a comment here with your name, along with a solemn vow of non-creepiness and I'll look you up. :) Thanks, and see ya later...Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-38132108950399997762012-03-14T13:34:00.010-07:002012-03-14T21:01:12.319-07:00epic post-placement post: one year<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">It's time for another installment in the 'epic post-placement post' series! (To see previous posts click<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> </span></span><a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://ballastadoption.blogspot.com/2011/03/epic-read-boring-post-placement-post.html">here</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, </span><a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://ballastadoption.blogspot.com/2011/05/epic-post-placement-post-3-months.html">here,</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> and<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> </span></span><a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://ballastadoption.blogspot.com/2011/08/epic-post-placement-post-6-months.html">here</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">.)</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">As I said in my original post, beyond just recording these things for posterity, my motivation for doing this is mainly to provide a window into our experiences for the sake of those who are waiting to bring their children home and wondering what it might be like when they finally do. Of course our experience just represents one dot on a huge spectrum, so if you are a waiting parent your experiences may (and most likely will) be completely different from ours. Still, I think it can be helpful to know what life is like for those a few steps ahead of us down the road.</p><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Overall<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I want to start this off by saying that overall after one year, Z is doing amazingly well. He has become fully integrated, not only into our little nuclear family, but our extended family, friends, and community. Spend a little time with him and it's easy to see that he genuinely feels at home. He knows he belongs, and that is a priceless blessing. </span></p><p>That being said, I think children (adopted or not) go through many cycles of integration, isolation, and re-integration in their communities and even their own families as they develop and grow into themselves. It's not a one-shot deal -- it's a life-long process. I know that I've gone through seasons of either feeling alienated from or drawn closer to various groups of people in my life, depending on the stage of development I was in. As we parent Z through the ups and downs of life we can't control whether he always feels connected, grounded, at home, etc; but we can try to always provide a safe place for him to sort it all out. That's the goal, and I feel like the first year has laid a good foundation so far.</p><p><span style="font-weight: bold;">Progress<br /></span>Rather than going through each section separately as I have in previous posts, I'm just going to summarize some areas where we have made big strides in the past 6 months.<br /></p><p>*Screaming is at an all-time low in our house, praise the LORD. It still happens, but we are down from dozens of times per day to maybe a few episodes a week. [Keeping it real: pretty sure this progress is due to the dollop of soap Z gets on his tongue whenever he screams. I'm not sure if that's condoned by the 'experts' but it has worked a small miracle around here so I'm OK with it.] <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></p><p>*Z is very comfortable being left with babysitters now and typically doesn't show any signs of anxiety before or after we're away from him. We even left the kids with a close family friend for two nights last month to attend a baptism out of town, and Z did great. I thought he would be a little 'off' after we got back, but he didn't miss a beat. He also gets dropped off at preschool twice a week and loves it, as well as Sunday school on Sundays. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></p><p>*Z has been healthy all winter, <span style="font-style: italic;">and </span>recently had a visit to his orthopedic doctor, who says his club foot is completely corrected! He will still wear his 'snowboard' at night until his third birthday but after that we're DONE. He has absolutely no impairment in his ability to use that foot or leg - you would never know anything was wrong. I am so thankful to report that every single health issue we dealt with at the start has now been fully resolved. Praise God!</p><p>*One of the biggest improvements we have seen in the last 6 months is in the relationship between our two youngest. Z and D really knocked heads in the beginning (and by 'beginning' I mean the first 4-6 months), and it is not hard to see why. They are both strong, they are both stubborn, they both like to have the attention on them, and they are both believe that Mommy exists solely to meet their individual needs: not exactly a recipe for insta-friends. But over time, and with lots of intentional coaching, teaching, and prompting from Mom and Dad, these two have come to not just tolerate, but actually love and enjoy one another. They are only 19 months apart, which has made them great playmates now that they aren't at each other's throats all the time. There is very little in this world that makes me happier than seeing my children get along. It is bliss.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></p><p>*Another area where we've seen major progress is something I'll call self-regulation. Z can calm down when he's upset. He can wait for things (to an age appropriate level). He doesn't completely come unglued when every little thing doesn't go his way. He has some understanding of delayed gratification. To give an example, we've been having trouble at mealtime (more on that below). After the drama dies down, Z will look at us and say, "Tomorrow Z eat dinner!" He understands that even though things didn't go well tonight, we can always try again tomorrow.<br /></p><p>*This doesn't really fit in the category of 'progress', but I think it's important and want to mention it: Z is so proud to be Ethiopian. He talks about it on a daily basis. He loves to watch videos and look at pictures from Ethiopia and still remembers the names of many of the friends he had there. Naturally we have encouraged this, but it is often something he initiates or requests. I'm hoping this interest will continue and deepen as he grows, and that he will always be proud of who he is and where he is from.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-weight: bold;">Still A Work in Progress<br /></span>As I said, overall things are great and Z has come so amazingly far in one year. But there are two areas specifically that remain a work in progress: mealtime and bedtime. From day one these have been the two battles that Z will pick more often than any others, because he is smart enough to know that you can't <span style="font-style: italic;">make</span> a kid sleep or eat. Don't get me wrong, he likes sleeping and eating and he does get plenty of rest and plenty of food. But even after one year of super consistent routines and boundaries, he still fights control battles in these areas daily. As much as is humanly possible, we choose not to fight back, and everyone knows a one-person fight gets boring after awhile... but apparently his tolerance for boredom is sky-high because he hasn't quit yet.<br /></p><p>I could go into great detail about how these battles play out, but the bottom line is that we do have consistent routines, consistent boundaries, and consistent consequences... and yet he pushes. I would estimate that this happens at about 1 out of every 3 or 4 mealtimes and bedtimes. It's not fun, but honestly we have just gotten used to it. That doesn't mean we don't care, or that we don't deal with the behavior, but it also doesn't (usually) sabotage our whole evening anymore. Though I hope it won't always be so, for now it's our new normal.<br /><br />I also want to mention that Z still wakes at night on occasion. We had about a few weeks in a row of no night waking recently, but this past week he has been up once or twice a night again. Sometimes it seems like he's having a bad dream, other times it's not clear why he's fussing, but he almost always goes right back to sleep with a little comforting. We don't usually pick him up, we just speak a few soft words, rub his back and he settles down. Last night he was up several times with bad dreams but that's not happening very often anymore, thankfully.</p><p>This section wouldn't be complete without an update on the areas where <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> am still a work in progress. I won't bore you with a laundry list of all my faults (though I have one written out and can email it to you if you're interested... joking... mostly), but I want to admit that I have a long way to go when it comes to parenting, and parenting my youngest child in particular. I know better, but I still let Z push my buttons. I am still quick to have my feelings hurt and I feel rejected easily. I am more likely to overreact to his behavior than to the other kids'. I am also quicker to judge myself, and therefore more likely to feel guilt and a sense of failure about my parenting of Z than of the others. Despite all this, I do feel that each of these areas is slowly improving over time. Grace, grace for him, grace for myself, the grace of God in Jesus Christ is sinking deeper into my soul and steadily doing its work in us day by day. Amen to that.<br /></p><p><span style="font-weight: bold;">To Sum Up<br /></span>We are crazy blessed and grateful to have Z in our family. We love him to pieces, and his million-dollar smiles, deep belly laughs, silly inside jokes, fun creative play, and sweet sweet hugs and kisses are daily demonstrations that he is thriving here. It's messy and there is a steep learning curve, but our family life together is starting to feel more like a fun swim in the lake and less like trying not to drown while the sharks circle up. That's a good thing.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9qja67w_VbWUG7OpNhzSrcPty2EyL3liOgLyKp_OnR4MpPJCuGhLjP3CxxVKKV7VNPAbCMJffi2q70WjjaojWzo7TDubpstSzpIw_vL9ACEZDqgtGsfuu4yz0w6zz2WlnpsjnwrllGU/s1600/IMG_6309-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9qja67w_VbWUG7OpNhzSrcPty2EyL3liOgLyKp_OnR4MpPJCuGhLjP3CxxVKKV7VNPAbCMJffi2q70WjjaojWzo7TDubpstSzpIw_vL9ACEZDqgtGsfuu4yz0w6zz2WlnpsjnwrllGU/s400/IMG_6309-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719966722397351362" border="0" /></a></p><p><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >A month or so ago I realized that Z can still wear the outfit he came home in, but it fits him very differently now! In the above picture, if he's standing up the pants just touch the tops of his shoes. Below, they are cuffed twice, as are his sleeves. One year makes a big difference!</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9qja67w_VbWUG7OpNhzSrcPty2EyL3liOgLyKp_OnR4MpPJCuGhLjP3CxxVKKV7VNPAbCMJffi2q70WjjaojWzo7TDubpstSzpIw_vL9ACEZDqgtGsfuu4yz0w6zz2WlnpsjnwrllGU/s1600/IMG_6309-1.JPG"></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXwQGKy3D9srlulHuFfJxOlI0UFxE3GGAkgA4ZYXF8ePnceUnvg-BaajVkJXMUExE3PrBWqdEF8QSLeLAhKht54iCNH1vpOsy494y67lma9_PEca5JbtSqOhvaoU1D1VaKuOrdS6z9Lw/s1600/IMG_0615.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXwQGKy3D9srlulHuFfJxOlI0UFxE3GGAkgA4ZYXF8ePnceUnvg-BaajVkJXMUExE3PrBWqdEF8QSLeLAhKht54iCNH1vpOsy494y67lma9_PEca5JbtSqOhvaoU1D1VaKuOrdS6z9Lw/s400/IMG_0615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719966729932436338" border="0" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P-NY0C2a3-esuY6tILl72AWG9qc6vRITh4LMsV4mLKN4-d6PDa522cRk44uf1k87UM6QufViNx3qyj9A-l4kQP1ylr3wBRay19cfCFK3G3zTtJKd40lFrcPuab556y9k_Sjrj5LWq1E/s1600/_DSC2604.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P-NY0C2a3-esuY6tILl72AWG9qc6vRITh4LMsV4mLKN4-d6PDa522cRk44uf1k87UM6QufViNx3qyj9A-l4kQP1ylr3wBRay19cfCFK3G3zTtJKd40lFrcPuab556y9k_Sjrj5LWq1E/s400/_DSC2604.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719966737306484002" border="0" /></a></p>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-60607646997380218542012-03-09T11:31:00.007-08:002012-03-09T13:06:49.876-08:00getting cheekyI know I promised another installment in the 'epic post-placement post' series, but for some reason I haven't made time to sit down and write it yet. In the meantime, I'll share a funny story from last weekend. The kids were invited to 2 birthday parties at the same time last Saturday, so we had to divide and conquer. J took Z to the Super Jump Zone and I took the big boys to the Family Fun Center: sheer chaos and plenty of over-stimulating fun had by all.<br /><br />Before I go on with this story there is something you need to know: I am obsessed with Z's bum. I think it is the cutest butt in the whole wide world and I don't care who knows it. If he didn't have such an adorable face I'd have to call his bum his best feature. Z is well aware of my love for his backside. He thinks it's normal (poor child), and now pretty much requires that we take note of his junk in the trunk as often as possible. Just about every time we change his clothes, he runs around the house shouting, "Look-a-bum! Look-a-bum!" If someone is not paying it appropriate attention he will get in their face and make them take note: "Daddy! DADDY! Look-a-bum!" (Don't act like your family doesn't do weird stuff like this. You know you do.)<br /><br />So. Back to the birthday parties. As the cake is being passed out, I get a text from J:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pOfqOpMm5UezkuWZIi9A-tn4bnK5MFIONn_v41SZBpodLv5pU5v2FvlgJt8i5wvAvOHWrSP_y4dyNwqIid5p0R5Mn1YYHumazTsW9Ja4L2FNcpKyATHi7L46N8vKyBZYRSnfZ6Vb9BQ/s1600/photo+-+Version+2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pOfqOpMm5UezkuWZIi9A-tn4bnK5MFIONn_v41SZBpodLv5pU5v2FvlgJt8i5wvAvOHWrSP_y4dyNwqIid5p0R5Mn1YYHumazTsW9Ja4L2FNcpKyATHi7L46N8vKyBZYRSnfZ6Vb9BQ/s400/photo+-+Version+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718004869028445314" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Yep, apparently he just walked up a stranger and gave her a little love tap. Which <strike>we</strike> I accidentally taught him was an acceptable way to interact with someone. Oops.<br /><br />But seriously, tell me: how could you NOT be obsessed with this?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjAXSQEDv8epu2zzIvxXyV5gS9fswmIM4cSTaWpkoHrC80f6CZhHNHMCtb3kQjAKTsLUKXUoXrnbTx6yuIfPkGcI_xkWUPoV2xUZawgyB1hk1fb9NrgYdf4SDIWX2SH4MXLUwhcES_Xk/s1600/IMG_6629.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjAXSQEDv8epu2zzIvxXyV5gS9fswmIM4cSTaWpkoHrC80f6CZhHNHMCtb3kQjAKTsLUKXUoXrnbTx6yuIfPkGcI_xkWUPoV2xUZawgyB1hk1fb9NrgYdf4SDIWX2SH4MXLUwhcES_Xk/s400/IMG_6629.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717982740940050610" border="0" /></a><br /><br />P.S. Yes, we are trying to teach Z that it's only OK to talk about / touch / obsess over buns <span style="font-style: italic;">at home.</span> :)Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-41888478899187638402012-02-29T14:24:00.022-08:002012-02-29T21:01:39.096-08:00one year home: how we celebratedZ had a great day yesterday. Even though we didn't do anything too out of the ordinary, he could sense that it was a special day and he was in a good mood nearly all day long. Just for fun, here is a rundown of our day in photos:<br /><br />7:30 AM - Sleeping soundly.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz42eegthH6D5xrqXVu1LkiJ8uH6iwHvk2bipPbA2C1qclrjXeQXhIyZqCu1YqxcUg5F-qDhLg8v9L5RGqoj7jREL5yMdrRmHLKEQXdYcOZjy-GoVEFbGcbRx-RN0kOQX7jA8fjf-3mB4/s1600/IMG_6445.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz42eegthH6D5xrqXVu1LkiJ8uH6iwHvk2bipPbA2C1qclrjXeQXhIyZqCu1YqxcUg5F-qDhLg8v9L5RGqoj7jREL5yMdrRmHLKEQXdYcOZjy-GoVEFbGcbRx-RN0kOQX7jA8fjf-3mB4/s400/IMG_6445.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714779004118477026" border="0" /></a><br /><br />8:30 AM - Time to wake up, sleepy head!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwnoLpNkdfGUwlbPPo96_kZHi7tebhnH5px9bDm4aDlUeVk7DIQJcm9Q3nzdC-bpcvjtvcVrcynyeFQuX6oWZoy-U5qAWTPdtu_F6QGmvkSRnFJVluW_tsGrzE-DkM8Gb2VKXa2QWnCw/s1600/2012_02_28.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwnoLpNkdfGUwlbPPo96_kZHi7tebhnH5px9bDm4aDlUeVk7DIQJcm9Q3nzdC-bpcvjtvcVrcynyeFQuX6oWZoy-U5qAWTPdtu_F6QGmvkSRnFJVluW_tsGrzE-DkM8Gb2VKXa2QWnCw/s400/2012_02_28.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714736651576861394" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05ninGMZX42VHQcULpm3cYLGYW9dwe-4NMJ8qLR3z7LkSJ-60Mh5sglwfqhfxhzoNbL6ctz68hnk7N4NXFhnfbQIzXMb2kMq4VyxfWlXEM2Do6QMaHFJUCn0hDLAFkOym-4x3788fw6A/s1600/2012_02_281.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05ninGMZX42VHQcULpm3cYLGYW9dwe-4NMJ8qLR3z7LkSJ-60Mh5sglwfqhfxhzoNbL6ctz68hnk7N4NXFhnfbQIzXMb2kMq4VyxfWlXEM2Do6QMaHFJUCn0hDLAFkOym-4x3788fw6A/s400/2012_02_281.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714736658905135362" border="0" /></a><br /><br />9:00 AM - Quick photo op before taking N to school.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqr6u-H023o-Yq09L9lTzzgDmsYcNaqOp0LZsF6iDAkvqA0gw1IEULECn5-pFzt3-8oo5KG6l1ykz7hrBYdBWtggW5BUmgxrXYEFvShpqdn5IrrtptUPLr7d0Km8Axw_5KbH5VPbgsy2k/s1600/IMG_6474.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqr6u-H023o-Yq09L9lTzzgDmsYcNaqOp0LZsF6iDAkvqA0gw1IEULECn5-pFzt3-8oo5KG6l1ykz7hrBYdBWtggW5BUmgxrXYEFvShpqdn5IrrtptUPLr7d0Km8Axw_5KbH5VPbgsy2k/s400/IMG_6474.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714779564226029874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPwCTmoc67jtBOJM_kWQsTal_IzK3so8ZWmfSd2ADb-bULscmmUyepNZfXyQ3EWrlr7GkDsZ1LUwX91hfRAu4RgmDKepBQiHfbAyBUmPgROmKyoD7-3iV8x_zMMizEYWEp4hLxSo-ap88/s1600/IMG_6468-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPwCTmoc67jtBOJM_kWQsTal_IzK3so8ZWmfSd2ADb-bULscmmUyepNZfXyQ3EWrlr7GkDsZ1LUwX91hfRAu4RgmDKepBQiHfbAyBUmPgROmKyoD7-3iV8x_zMMizEYWEp4hLxSo-ap88/s400/IMG_6468-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714779009879639986" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3l1p6zW1AkAconMWREYN7yAoDYd_KEGl9Utac11QMbPH0sRja2pH4o9qNF6IpOstJYaTG1nMDyPMQTsVEqu-r2bKLIYA5jz5LWKampo_EbW4oYaUOGTQ2TqcrkzOjtL_rLYlVPsqI_A/s1600/IMG_6471.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3l1p6zW1AkAconMWREYN7yAoDYd_KEGl9Utac11QMbPH0sRja2pH4o9qNF6IpOstJYaTG1nMDyPMQTsVEqu-r2bKLIYA5jz5LWKampo_EbW4oYaUOGTQ2TqcrkzOjtL_rLYlVPsqI_A/s400/IMG_6471.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714779022764545122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />9:10 AM - Z loves Z bars - perfect breakfast on-the-go.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySpIXRrf2t3U1xyiQDwSzFZeOrKlujSKU5gMDaQzCj4bfkdT6QTjzUrA2m5razWvWVNu62cOuoQrjuKNa8aT54EJ8-LU0THcahO1ACTFArhShE4U6jUTqfGPQvLlJC47FFVl3MLWvevY/s1600/2012_02_282.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySpIXRrf2t3U1xyiQDwSzFZeOrKlujSKU5gMDaQzCj4bfkdT6QTjzUrA2m5razWvWVNu62cOuoQrjuKNa8aT54EJ8-LU0THcahO1ACTFArhShE4U6jUTqfGPQvLlJC47FFVl3MLWvevY/s400/2012_02_282.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714736666289789730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />10:00 AM - Playdate with the coolest great-grandma in town.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjX0HJX-oLrPpwRPT-xWKY5y0NnV3ShIKq4O5bW_Zkfe2MVF9QDsuHSErKJ98c-2e9K-5ufzpWnH6uNrw0UpKdXTbs-mTSWItRZ3hI99JPd4UGyRnwhvx005LYMNA9FWm6u3YL52oYvI/s1600/IMG_6484.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjX0HJX-oLrPpwRPT-xWKY5y0NnV3ShIKq4O5bW_Zkfe2MVF9QDsuHSErKJ98c-2e9K-5ufzpWnH6uNrw0UpKdXTbs-mTSWItRZ3hI99JPd4UGyRnwhvx005LYMNA9FWm6u3YL52oYvI/s400/IMG_6484.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714779574153812530" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjds0NkgT6_UdqEo-Gcyt2ftjPOppKa0IxX7hmWpudPq5uSNqKREaiITVq95d2xcnvLkiICc7O1HeYTDZ49I2pvAToDKsdqzh76uwHwnYB3sTESX63EBRjSTYWLfvs2IxOPyw93SJU0INk/s1600/IMG_6486.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjds0NkgT6_UdqEo-Gcyt2ftjPOppKa0IxX7hmWpudPq5uSNqKREaiITVq95d2xcnvLkiICc7O1HeYTDZ49I2pvAToDKsdqzh76uwHwnYB3sTESX63EBRjSTYWLfvs2IxOPyw93SJU0INk/s400/IMG_6486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714779585864015778" border="0" /></a><br /><br />12:00 PM - Lunch and play time.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrR8etoOd2qrT5cXj6Z2KSwiiKIboV9PUtnXwdgX51qU7c0FGqDOdr4-biy7oIJDhJMe5491V1F_1Ik43soQBrq8c7qyuSo4RdeTS0jgnxv3UmobaCuTM2kv-jpwz7Qiu_JTWd4MOaqT0/s1600/2012_02_283.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrR8etoOd2qrT5cXj6Z2KSwiiKIboV9PUtnXwdgX51qU7c0FGqDOdr4-biy7oIJDhJMe5491V1F_1Ik43soQBrq8c7qyuSo4RdeTS0jgnxv3UmobaCuTM2kv-jpwz7Qiu_JTWd4MOaqT0/s400/2012_02_283.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714736689747752242" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiele3FAjXqPXeyumr4MeM1Pzw3M1VkYkEBNMN9EP-O5eskMohMaq-rLnHOivHqdrWzUOateR5sDutOshSwBZgAN_BigRLf0jcPIfwxi0-xF8CvFtwlJKxbNsrOsQrBgpSWOdE7Dlrd3ds/s1600/2012_02_284.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiele3FAjXqPXeyumr4MeM1Pzw3M1VkYkEBNMN9EP-O5eskMohMaq-rLnHOivHqdrWzUOateR5sDutOshSwBZgAN_BigRLf0jcPIfwxi0-xF8CvFtwlJKxbNsrOsQrBgpSWOdE7Dlrd3ds/s400/2012_02_284.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714736698511587010" border="0" /></a><br /><br />1:00 PM - Read a book before naps.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDXvAIstwbJVUw-4ys5o0dJ-JgsVgH1Rq366ZzRrz4mk4qTD7l4H93psoo615hJP5mr5qWwKGjKMPebo-rr8d8gYpe641SpCpyRgejq9eoP8vH3NJHStp_Gt1nW0OHNTIzQGGJjeu1Ok/s1600/IMG_6511-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDXvAIstwbJVUw-4ys5o0dJ-JgsVgH1Rq366ZzRrz4mk4qTD7l4H93psoo615hJP5mr5qWwKGjKMPebo-rr8d8gYpe641SpCpyRgejq9eoP8vH3NJHStp_Gt1nW0OHNTIzQGGJjeu1Ok/s400/IMG_6511-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714788630762645442" border="0" /></a><br /><br />2:00 PM - (Not pictured: Z banging on walls and singing loudly instead of sleeping, Mommy pulling out her hair and contemplating a mid-afternoon cocktail.)<br /><br />2:30 PM - Apparently you're just not going to sleep today.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim1HHJJNSUJSncz6kdF1_ItjLx9IgRktYAHQxAs1iElqOu_BvbYyavtT7iHNnHaZhvfdoU3g9hDZSz3r1epdrtXebYk-ZWzuvtX4jSBaQXGMAHPMLaqZ7U27YZ5HlhxS765_F8MsanXCw/s1600/IMG_6514.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim1HHJJNSUJSncz6kdF1_ItjLx9IgRktYAHQxAs1iElqOu_BvbYyavtT7iHNnHaZhvfdoU3g9hDZSz3r1epdrtXebYk-ZWzuvtX4jSBaQXGMAHPMLaqZ7U27YZ5HlhxS765_F8MsanXCw/s400/IMG_6514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714780178375081570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />3:00 PM - Maybe you'll nap in the car! No dice, but it worked for D.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvoH9ytPQsrOlFOpvVdjdFM9vUM22z2qNUubBpma762Hk8qQcvvmgfGbjdqHNb5R_lkTqIOP9AllhwwYW20wwwfZAHben1arsH3eb4cVZIb0yDDSuREtv_k7Q4esxp3W0_AfFhTERhmY/s1600/photo%25281%2529.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvoH9ytPQsrOlFOpvVdjdFM9vUM22z2qNUubBpma762Hk8qQcvvmgfGbjdqHNb5R_lkTqIOP9AllhwwYW20wwwfZAHben1arsH3eb4cVZIb0yDDSuREtv_k7Q4esxp3W0_AfFhTERhmY/s400/photo%25281%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714789138375300498" border="0" /></a><br /><br />4:00 PM - Another photo shoot before the rain shower.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcE_bku2at04huIKO7CzMwirfRKhddb32LVNl7z8FlWexpx77PP_bBpEFGJo3GB2iy5k2ZR3ZNYCzTFIcq6Xfn4uMhancVkTh16tD_clwfONeYT1pgfiaR4Ex8SVsmBrcYNx-udgrqysQ/s1600/IMG_6518.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcE_bku2at04huIKO7CzMwirfRKhddb32LVNl7z8FlWexpx77PP_bBpEFGJo3GB2iy5k2ZR3ZNYCzTFIcq6Xfn4uMhancVkTh16tD_clwfONeYT1pgfiaR4Ex8SVsmBrcYNx-udgrqysQ/s400/IMG_6518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714780197185184258" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYJpFILc9PszYN0sZ4JXT3yz3l4usG4T_sQMZ1Y8lCKTb_I17Hca8uUsjwsbzAeNuqp6UkPCoiLRMrKs7EvBF4DcBBNM8fMKp8MHP6t88eDLYvUvsMMd31YoxB0cDnDgtIG8DEmDftws/s1600/IMG_6533.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYJpFILc9PszYN0sZ4JXT3yz3l4usG4T_sQMZ1Y8lCKTb_I17Hca8uUsjwsbzAeNuqp6UkPCoiLRMrKs7EvBF4DcBBNM8fMKp8MHP6t88eDLYvUvsMMd31YoxB0cDnDgtIG8DEmDftws/s400/IMG_6533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714780209007622978" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sO-z8hECHReMVKKhFs1NZ1Z3aoDOyRsvUx4-3i9tU3lLCjRN88EQgMNzRf0JH7SteRuRvDRRa47EHcH3JKP5103zvNhVBzE-YHP6vXeuqB1GjzJzTcC3AlcVZz-EZA9eDSCpZtRmtlo/s1600/IMG_6537.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sO-z8hECHReMVKKhFs1NZ1Z3aoDOyRsvUx4-3i9tU3lLCjRN88EQgMNzRf0JH7SteRuRvDRRa47EHcH3JKP5103zvNhVBzE-YHP6vXeuqB1GjzJzTcC3AlcVZz-EZA9eDSCpZtRmtlo/s400/IMG_6537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714780713273176946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />4:30 PM - Daddy's home! Football practice.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxP7FuY5vYNh5wlF2J3i2oViFlcOjiwKDcdxff5GZWT7pWDsIVdSNZFKZQ3GOhWitLj8KhU0S9-yBJX9ZYwNmr9zCBbO3QmctOcSUSpUh6SoJ1oQ6Rj4FjC8P5V7GApgClloxvHVuRnDo/s1600/IMG_6550-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxP7FuY5vYNh5wlF2J3i2oViFlcOjiwKDcdxff5GZWT7pWDsIVdSNZFKZQ3GOhWitLj8KhU0S9-yBJX9ZYwNmr9zCBbO3QmctOcSUSpUh6SoJ1oQ6Rj4FjC8P5V7GApgClloxvHVuRnDo/s400/IMG_6550-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714781596282498754" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlRvq8eSgGUXAUD_CtZQj8zxGrhuPTP75CynpRvAMU97wfpJPWCQNot2mtjpn7BRKKIVBTbqNIIgPRiRxa6_Xe17H14w6bfVKIvsnxhcmBjhTDR2HAWE1K9hBuvqkmG7YG1hSqOzhyphenhyphenio/s1600/IMG_6545-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlRvq8eSgGUXAUD_CtZQj8zxGrhuPTP75CynpRvAMU97wfpJPWCQNot2mtjpn7BRKKIVBTbqNIIgPRiRxa6_Xe17H14w6bfVKIvsnxhcmBjhTDR2HAWE1K9hBuvqkmG7YG1hSqOzhyphenhyphenio/s400/IMG_6545-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714781592960076706" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY5BzM_nAHEnv4kio13JYvttswVyaAmdG21h5g1NBN4wuJV0ONRqPWwrv9bRZjUaT7YIMapHZEou0pxWg-9TPHqUHdZGcAZnGYZXQNA6MbdiSU50DBY3AA3KeV6VYfSMboXN_-cydX2TM/s1600/IMG_6541-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY5BzM_nAHEnv4kio13JYvttswVyaAmdG21h5g1NBN4wuJV0ONRqPWwrv9bRZjUaT7YIMapHZEou0pxWg-9TPHqUHdZGcAZnGYZXQNA6MbdiSU50DBY3AA3KeV6VYfSMboXN_-cydX2TM/s400/IMG_6541-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714780737817463314" border="0" /></a><br /><br />5:00 PM - Mama's making dinner. Smells good.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMIsPbZ5_Xpwo-w6nKggxryRDUGoT8aNyLR7VMF21kfHAo1NpzaSWSQvZUIt_goKc_QjkxVkGYp2IfUsOzMzUOP6M8x-l6NZqYVVBM1FefPiUQKT3cEe4kZqLvBDSg6vnoj2nE15bEDk/s1600/IMG_6540.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMIsPbZ5_Xpwo-w6nKggxryRDUGoT8aNyLR7VMF21kfHAo1NpzaSWSQvZUIt_goKc_QjkxVkGYp2IfUsOzMzUOP6M8x-l6NZqYVVBM1FefPiUQKT3cEe4kZqLvBDSg6vnoj2nE15bEDk/s400/IMG_6540.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714780719701570882" border="0" /></a><br /><br />5:30 PM - Watching a slide show and videos from Ethiopia.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrw7sul2ZdJENtnXLFKL1gcaiv3N6Mi6yR8hxHrbf1l6H_03uoL0rfX8OqRgv4i0hZJKg4FjFRkmy98aVEydeAELRIejQ3RxOGlG7PexVjhcTMkjUWmDVcLdsHwkug3ONfIjnIZYuV2YQ/s1600/IMG_6553.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrw7sul2ZdJENtnXLFKL1gcaiv3N6Mi6yR8hxHrbf1l6H_03uoL0rfX8OqRgv4i0hZJKg4FjFRkmy98aVEydeAELRIejQ3RxOGlG7PexVjhcTMkjUWmDVcLdsHwkug3ONfIjnIZYuV2YQ/s400/IMG_6553.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714781605749147778" border="0" /></a><br /><br />5:45 PM - Opening a present... it's a new "Z Book!"*<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6NjOcFJ25OepbI4iDCFwS2-2DS5gcq2gYbQeY5ku9iXS2tOIlhU3C3OyEHFeYjScPiTGneE3GtqBs_5jo6AQ6-YCjnhhEed9ofzeEfA2NuFnUd714TH9S5cHK4-ysWP6s67KggLwmKs/s1600/IMG_6559.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6NjOcFJ25OepbI4iDCFwS2-2DS5gcq2gYbQeY5ku9iXS2tOIlhU3C3OyEHFeYjScPiTGneE3GtqBs_5jo6AQ6-YCjnhhEed9ofzeEfA2NuFnUd714TH9S5cHK4-ysWP6s67KggLwmKs/s400/IMG_6559.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714783487168405586" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSs2zTS1ulGFFewWmpTpio_2a69_EYtEtrrRMTStpT8MP5Yu6dxdabHj2rvybShRRiHh356DOZopwo4EA-hMuLpXuXpfaq6d3G6CmFAvbaICebmmrSoo1DuyldYAIOrTFQmtHim7yl28/s1600/IMG_6561.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSs2zTS1ulGFFewWmpTpio_2a69_EYtEtrrRMTStpT8MP5Yu6dxdabHj2rvybShRRiHh356DOZopwo4EA-hMuLpXuXpfaq6d3G6CmFAvbaICebmmrSoo1DuyldYAIOrTFQmtHim7yl28/s400/IMG_6561.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714783953347831410" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjR_zvWmEpEsgS0PZ3d7QaUOYtlYuCt-91scI-L3S-5e6WhjuyCE9MC9eowMBA5WvCV14JmCyg64Ry5ixZkcmZPMUiwwig5SeCU1U4zVxlvWOmVEGHvrr4ca6HYrOqCimiahqZ9ctpKlE/s1600/IMG_6569-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjR_zvWmEpEsgS0PZ3d7QaUOYtlYuCt-91scI-L3S-5e6WhjuyCE9MC9eowMBA5WvCV14JmCyg64Ry5ixZkcmZPMUiwwig5SeCU1U4zVxlvWOmVEGHvrr4ca6HYrOqCimiahqZ9ctpKlE/s400/IMG_6569-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714784541046275378" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmXJIuCFyAmpFc18rApifbWoqJ_dkAIWM5q-BnGm9YifrPrTScqyEu_LqF99iE_jOQ3d4ZLSAcSzyasVMpMNXzDZh8ceAbGrOvZQmB73PBE41dxzUhkQDPWQxhqtor9m-RtT5nJ6UbZA/s1600/IMG_6564.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmXJIuCFyAmpFc18rApifbWoqJ_dkAIWM5q-BnGm9YifrPrTScqyEu_LqF99iE_jOQ3d4ZLSAcSzyasVMpMNXzDZh8ceAbGrOvZQmB73PBE41dxzUhkQDPWQxhqtor9m-RtT5nJ6UbZA/s400/IMG_6564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714783967637682066" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2WlVR48askLPYcENu2Xq_tAq04HF8qEpiB9wR3LR8E9NSq7eJbn6OUFP5wRfM35wZDr05UONq19g63ifhpGft1yyeUmNfEm19xnErWo6jcyg1YuAPbT4IzEHvDaXRTlm7o_IWqOIbaE/s1600/IMG_6572-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2WlVR48askLPYcENu2Xq_tAq04HF8qEpiB9wR3LR8E9NSq7eJbn6OUFP5wRfM35wZDr05UONq19g63ifhpGft1yyeUmNfEm19xnErWo6jcyg1YuAPbT4IzEHvDaXRTlm7o_IWqOIbaE/s400/IMG_6572-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714784547490575858" border="0" /></a><br /><br />6:00 PM - Dinner time.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEineIpo1XfqHtKKNl20ty95MtLWQyKVNML5i84i6g4VxOxSKgYv4P9thFbhf2CgpxlkxFGKqlA7aeH7mUCMGSqJnVMvzaqiNOZxAQpCKLZwq15j0L7CQ3M90DgBdoeA3LFa5_4dzyzJLBo/s1600/IMG_6573.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEineIpo1XfqHtKKNl20ty95MtLWQyKVNML5i84i6g4VxOxSKgYv4P9thFbhf2CgpxlkxFGKqlA7aeH7mUCMGSqJnVMvzaqiNOZxAQpCKLZwq15j0L7CQ3M90DgBdoeA3LFa5_4dzyzJLBo/s400/IMG_6573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714784569578216594" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lh_CPqJ28P2UppZjhOSsj3Tw5KAaZjnEpGORc60Glnsb98k3b95sbeQm1AI_-TGQTYmIV9C7I3W-YBABHFz0YhTJSUe18h0f8AKp42d3cc95kalSZaEAN72RnfjdXdeiX584b4zraXw/s1600/IMG_6575.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lh_CPqJ28P2UppZjhOSsj3Tw5KAaZjnEpGORc60Glnsb98k3b95sbeQm1AI_-TGQTYmIV9C7I3W-YBABHFz0YhTJSUe18h0f8AKp42d3cc95kalSZaEAN72RnfjdXdeiX584b4zraXw/s400/IMG_6575.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714786058616874082" border="0" /></a><br /><br />6:30 PM - Scrub a dub.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JeF4-scPFPwIaXjbEHBtEkNc0lvlSQ6wYyGusb_Euz-oPKMBYCPbNkkuVKYqzEUsY-Onq496k7YJS9F5-s_6fyICOz2N_a2cH8f4FDQOkSfipAu5pJ238gChuG_o0dQ0sd_UiOmVJqA/s1600/IMG_6583.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JeF4-scPFPwIaXjbEHBtEkNc0lvlSQ6wYyGusb_Euz-oPKMBYCPbNkkuVKYqzEUsY-Onq496k7YJS9F5-s_6fyICOz2N_a2cH8f4FDQOkSfipAu5pJ238gChuG_o0dQ0sd_UiOmVJqA/s400/IMG_6583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714786069624290258" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHfM8dSwDQY6xoMWP-78oZgiFILGRhByzKc_Goi1oCMLhW1_UujZLL7Q9rr1VMdIg23B9HY49DpEHFu4fcRZbxbz5ceeb4Q5a7BbIiYKj88D2_BgB6-dpsGqZSqTC-NXzMIzO9vnXjuY/s1600/IMG_6587-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHfM8dSwDQY6xoMWP-78oZgiFILGRhByzKc_Goi1oCMLhW1_UujZLL7Q9rr1VMdIg23B9HY49DpEHFu4fcRZbxbz5ceeb4Q5a7BbIiYKj88D2_BgB6-dpsGqZSqTC-NXzMIzO9vnXjuY/s400/IMG_6587-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714786522604082386" border="0" /></a><br /><br />7:15 PM - Good night.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHFll1vyIxcvIklF6IAMFdP9H14hq3rcIEhtUjk_aIKpKSgTNRB7Xf9SS0yGSmJId4QdwnUEYSSpHyGa4vrw-7_TQiS6oKelXBqv-HGRS4p7_5V7o1rXHgfuJ68Vp5SatZrRm6cvvfNw/s1600/2012_02_285.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHFll1vyIxcvIklF6IAMFdP9H14hq3rcIEhtUjk_aIKpKSgTNRB7Xf9SS0yGSmJId4QdwnUEYSSpHyGa4vrw-7_TQiS6oKelXBqv-HGRS4p7_5V7o1rXHgfuJ68Vp5SatZrRm6cvvfNw/s400/2012_02_285.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714787629669660242" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheT9shtow14AbwgTtTZIQS5Y5afY3UP55LfQTx3SPXOM4SFHG4ggsxvxIVUd7phEFqj8rC-IiqKoUrBgv9Ztht62m1bRrMp3d14mH8w9ST06wdWUwFsN6TNvsVE6hZJYKe46-3OyRNc4E/s1600/IMG_6594.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheT9shtow14AbwgTtTZIQS5Y5afY3UP55LfQTx3SPXOM4SFHG4ggsxvxIVUd7phEFqj8rC-IiqKoUrBgv9Ztht62m1bRrMp3d14mH8w9ST06wdWUwFsN6TNvsVE6hZJYKe46-3OyRNc4E/s400/IMG_6594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714786542683885218" border="0" /></a><br /><br />*<span style="font-size:85%;">Soon after Z got home I made a S.hutterfly photo book that told his life story in simple, age-appropriate terms. The new book is much the same, but includes updated photos of the important people in his life and continues his story up to the present.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">**Coming soon: 1 year epic post-placement post</span>!Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-8925744773485156812012-02-28T13:59:00.014-08:002012-02-28T22:14:13.286-08:00in one year...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_QsZMT-eOVjkRYQlgmCvwxHrnPtCUyBvOjsW72XCLSKzbADoeby2RrgFaWeKRMnJ6TRMTHexTmoR9_PSVzlgWdCR2tUGdqUIAOWdtx-nlLDBMOOnpJwSF1UMbMxk4HS6qDHzL4Ibr9No/s1600/zeke+one+year_1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_QsZMT-eOVjkRYQlgmCvwxHrnPtCUyBvOjsW72XCLSKzbADoeby2RrgFaWeKRMnJ6TRMTHexTmoR9_PSVzlgWdCR2tUGdqUIAOWdtx-nlLDBMOOnpJwSF1UMbMxk4HS6qDHzL4Ibr9No/s400/zeke+one+year_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714436466769488130" border="0" /></a><br /><br />You learned a thousand new words in a language you had never heard.<br /><br />You learned to eat meals at the table, to use a fork and spoon, to drink from a cup, to try new textures and tastes in your food.<br /><br />You learned how to be a little brother, how to share and negotiate and compromise.<br /><br />You learned how to swim.<br /><br />You learned to sing Jesus Loves Me, and you believe it.<br /><br />You learned how to talk about your feelings.<br /><br />You learned how to get dropped off at preschool and you learned that Mommy always comes back.<br /><br />You learned how to use an iPhone.<br /><br />You learned how to hold your own in a wrestling match with two big boys and a Daddy.<br /><br />You learned the magic of books and memorized all the words to your favorites.<br /><br />You learned about your Ethiopian heritage, and how to answer proudly when someone asks where you were born.<br /><br />You learned that Daddy gives the best airplane rides around the living room and Mommy sings the best lullabies and Mimi plays the best pretend games and Grandpa tells the best stories and Papa has the best tickle fights and Nana reads the best bedtime stories.<br /><br />You learned to love us and you learned to let us love you.<br /><br />In the midst of all this learning, you also taught us how to eat injera with the right little flick of the wrist, and how to pray with abandon, and how to be brave even when you're very scared.<br /><br />We are both proud and humbled to be your parents -- cheers to one year of being family together! <span style="font-style: italic;">Ewedehalo.</span>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-6212578727486494322012-02-25T10:39:00.014-08:002012-02-27T15:02:08.588-08:00a year ago this evening<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3WGlPdAgTyLacOjSAlOLJ4_sSoh1DV401vj6Bg8PnEl1hyphenhyphenLskrJiqOEvw4Mmha-IFZqpYKQbUhltJxskGzDKDnGD1BflseLbwAWmF__nQBxd_Zc4-b8E7P-XQ7r-tI7NV-xfYazoRNw/s1600/IMG_0544.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3WGlPdAgTyLacOjSAlOLJ4_sSoh1DV401vj6Bg8PnEl1hyphenhyphenLskrJiqOEvw4Mmha-IFZqpYKQbUhltJxskGzDKDnGD1BflseLbwAWmF__nQBxd_Zc4-b8E7P-XQ7r-tI7NV-xfYazoRNw/s400/IMG_0544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713250850080291058" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I want to go back.<br /><br />I want to step through the gate in the early evening and walk the rutted, sun-warmed streets, around the corner to the small shop for a bottled Mirinda, <span style="font-style: italic;">kez kaza</span>. It is exactly the same as three other shops on the same corner but this one is ours because the owner likes us and laughs at our broken Amharic. She lets us leave with the bottles and knows we'll bring them back: there is no such thing as garbage here, no trash in the street because everything is valuable to someone.<br /><br />I want to sit on a metal chair on the sidewalk eating angel hair pasta with meat sauce and a hint of berbere. There are three kinds of <span style="font-style: italic;">wat</span> on the menu but they are all out of them tonight. I want a tall glass of thick, sweet mango juice, and then another when that one spills in my lap.<br /><br />I want to shiver a little as the sun sets and order macchiatos that we really shouldn't drink at this hour. It's OK because we're too American to finish them anyway. Twenty minutes later we realize they'll never bring us the check if we don't ask; the fistful of <span style="font-style: italic;">birr</span> we hand over for dinner wouldn't buy a tall latte back home.<br /><br />I want to walk back to the guest house slowly, feeling the ache of a full belly in a hungry place. The guard comes down the street looking for us, more out of boredom than necessity. He gives shy smiles and nods to answer our small-talk questions but I'm fairly certain he doesn't understand more than a word or two.<br /><br />Tonight the dogs will fight in the street while the mosques and churches blare their competing calls to prayer. The hopeful salesman will start hawking his wares outside the window at dawn and the goats will bleat sorrowfully. We'll be sleeping in our quiet house a world away. I still want to go back.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">[<a href="http://haleyballast.blogspot.com/2012/02/year-ago-this-evening-revisited.html">the other side of the same coin</a>.]</span>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-15211241493136423592012-02-20T16:39:00.010-08:002012-02-21T20:01:40.111-08:00you want me on that wall<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvz6qyBn2G_KMQDazmN3fbGfsWOv84zOMUbB2eIC2tAJCay9Dxj_Ns5i9GA4cjzTLtBAlEuisHZvoDDlWrU9M5foGapib9G64KKPm2EM2D3VeUzIU7FMCkpFlFw5Ayi7iSVFLcGjyWlZY/s1600/jack.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvz6qyBn2G_KMQDazmN3fbGfsWOv84zOMUbB2eIC2tAJCay9Dxj_Ns5i9GA4cjzTLtBAlEuisHZvoDDlWrU9M5foGapib9G64KKPm2EM2D3VeUzIU7FMCkpFlFw5Ayi7iSVFLcGjyWlZY/s400/jack.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711804638616882578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Like most two-year-olds, Z has a love-hate relationship with boundaries. It's no surprise that he loves to push them, but one thing I've learned the hard way is that he actually hates to break them.<br /><br />Here's a scene that has happened more than once in our house:<br /><br />Me: Z, go pick out a book to read before nap.<br /><br />Z: No! No book.<br /><br />Me (before learning aforementioned lesson about boundaries): No book? Are you sure?<br /><br />Z: NO BOOK.<br /><br />Me: Okay, no book.<br /><br />Z: Booooooooooook!<br /><br />Me: No, Z it's too late. You said no book, and Mommy listens to your words, so no book today.<br /><br />[commence screaming fit that hijacks entire pre-nap routine]<br /><br />Z loves to act like he wants control, but most of the time he hates to actually have it. If adoption and child development literature is right, children need boundaries (i.e. areas over which they have no control) in order to feel safe, and children need to feel safe in order to form an attachment with their parent or caregiver. Therefore, healthy attachment depends on keeping good boundaries. I am positive I read this multiple times before and after Z came home, but now I can see it with my own eyes. The screaming fit from the scenario above is not about anger or frustration - it's about fear. We always read a book before bed. It's part of a routine that helps him feel safe. By giving him the power to change the routine, I have removed a source of safety for him without any warning: he is understandably terrified.<br /><br />The climactic courtroom scene from <span style="font-style: italic;">A Few Good Men</span> is one of my favorites. [If you haven't seen that movie, I am not going to summarize. Just go watch it. And please appreciate the awesome early 90's casual outfits Demi Moore sports in the case preparation scenes. Were our jeans really that high-waisted? Amazing.] Anyway, sometimes the lines from Jack Nicholson's character pop into my head in these situations with Z. "You want me on that wall," he says. "You <span style="font-style: italic;">need</span> me on that wall." OK, so maybe I'm not a colonel at Gitmo and I'm definitely not ordering any code reds. But Z <span style="font-style: italic;">does</span> want to know that somebody is standing on the wall, protecting him, not only from outside forces, but from himself. I need to remind myself of that, of the value in standing my ground and sticking to the plan, even when he presses me to do otherwise.<br /><br />Here's a revised version of the previous scenario, which still plays out on a daily basis in our home:<br /><br />Me: Wait a minute Z, don't eat yet - I have to get your bib.<br /><br />Z: No! No bib, Mommy.<br /><br />Me: Z, it is lunchtime. At lunchtime we always wear a bib.<br /><br />Z: NO. BIB. MOMMY.<br /><br />Me: (putting on bib) Sorry dude, that's how it goes.<br /><br />And guess what? He might pout for a minute, but most of the time he gets over it way faster than when I give in to his boundary-pushing demands. The comfort of consistency and routine trumps the frustration of not getting his way. Of course at some point it will become developmentally appropriate to change his routines and introduce flexibility and autonomy into more areas of his life. I'm sure that will hold new challenges with more steep learning curves. But for now I'm happy to play it safe, knowing that these days of stability and familiarity are laying a foundation for years of trust and love.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpPQ5q61CNRPIC3QEWZmKPgi-kTF-5dyb6MRwPyZnjNOn-pF6uPRhzXs-F6EtK846pJVlWTmI0xBRP8sHVRcxY25jo6M3SoWT9_Zxwa9xO_P-oSzawcA0f8QCpPPjUh1-YDZp-XOq8HQ/s1600/zeke.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpPQ5q61CNRPIC3QEWZmKPgi-kTF-5dyb6MRwPyZnjNOn-pF6uPRhzXs-F6EtK846pJVlWTmI0xBRP8sHVRcxY25jo6M3SoWT9_Zxwa9xO_P-oSzawcA0f8QCpPPjUh1-YDZp-XOq8HQ/s400/zeke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711804636399463090" border="0" /></a>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-961798577113754782012-02-14T17:34:00.000-08:002012-02-16T22:47:45.910-08:00the runaway bunny<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURYtLX9HOUcj2ayAqhwTdMILxL9KXejwHllmU7cIQDfxTMuVqx_iZbSyuo9MqfzGGmGw9z_WNSmccOjreLA2NtiAGQ3-LvHOSzhZhxCRAMogakOAb-f4YSQ_pPRxkbDpM-wN6DET_WFQ/s1600/The+Runaway+Bunny.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 342px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURYtLX9HOUcj2ayAqhwTdMILxL9KXejwHllmU7cIQDfxTMuVqx_iZbSyuo9MqfzGGmGw9z_WNSmccOjreLA2NtiAGQ3-LvHOSzhZhxCRAMogakOAb-f4YSQ_pPRxkbDpM-wN6DET_WFQ/s400/The+Runaway+Bunny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709992480189973570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I wouldn't say it's his favorite book, but he comes back to it every so often, sometimes just once, sometimes over and over for days on end. I'm always achingly grateful when he does. He has learned how to throw out a flare, but I still wish he didn't have to.<br /><br />We turn the pages slowly, pausing at each illustration to find the wayward bunny hiding in the garden or disguised on a mountainside. <span style="font-style: italic;">What is he running away from?</span> I wonder. His home under the tree looks warm and cozy and his mama is crazy about him. He is offered safety, security, and relationship but instead he seeks out danger, isolation, and independence. Awfully human, this little fella.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Who am I? Who loves me? How do I know? </span><br /><br />In the story, it is the mother bunny who chases after her baby; Z tells it his own way. His finger finds the little bunny, then slowly traces a path across the page from child... to mother. The ache eases: he is home.Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-47098550380863089482012-02-11T17:00:00.001-08:002012-02-11T23:08:31.329-08:00family day follow upWe had a great time with the boys last weekend at Great Wolf Lodge! The kids all had a blast and you could see how special they felt to have a fun day set aside to celebrate <font style="font-style: italic;">us</font>.<br />
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If you had seen me standing in the wave pool watching all my boys and their daddy play together you probably would have thought my bleary eyes and wet cheeks were the result of chlorinated water, but you'd have been wrong. I was overcome with gratitude for the blessing of each one of them. Who am I to have all this?<br />
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<font size="2">[pardon the low-quality photos, we didn't bring our camera so I took these on my phone]</font><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwifun8ViB_GreWHrrqM4pEtlQ6tx7Tuod7EBLsDe6oO5GRDhrii_2F1CiV7fYP2Bv8CloIhtQIoVb17VeEpVhrUFdEzAIJp90lKliLHvjmXfqfnpE2WG6GL-Mtx3GTgSF_8xFEBsuyY/s1600/photo%25281%2529.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwifun8ViB_GreWHrrqM4pEtlQ6tx7Tuod7EBLsDe6oO5GRDhrii_2F1CiV7fYP2Bv8CloIhtQIoVb17VeEpVhrUFdEzAIJp90lKliLHvjmXfqfnpE2WG6GL-Mtx3GTgSF_8xFEBsuyY/s400/photo%25281%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708092183672443746" border="0"></a><br />
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P.S. Keeping it real: my tears of gratitude on Friday evening had turned into tears of exhaustion and frustration by Saturday night when, upon arriving back home, our kids were so insanely overtired that they took over two hours to go to sleep. It was worth it, but WOW... break-down city.<br />
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Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-79243507232885066482012-02-02T14:20:00.000-08:002012-02-03T07:33:06.071-08:00family day, continuedA few weeks before Christmas, N (age 6) and I were talking about the upcoming holiday. He had recently watched a few movies with plot lines where the main character "saves" Christmas, so we were talking about whether that could ever happen. Movies and other holiday propaganda often send the message that the "true meaning" of Christmas is family, so we were talking through our belief that, although we love to be with family at Christmas, it is not actually <span style="font-style: italic;">about</span> family: it is about Jesus. At this point in the conversation N turned to me and asked, "Mommy, <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> there a holiday that's <span style="font-style: italic;">just</span> about family?" I thought about it for a minute and had to shake my head, I couldn't think of one. "Can we make our own?" he asked. "We could call it Family Day! Can it be tomorrow?" Man, I love that kid.<br /><br />J and I had already decided to call the anniversary of Z's arrival "Family Day," but N's questions made me think about it in a new light. What if we broadened the celebration beyond Z's adoption and just took a day every year to simply celebrate our family? After all, if we're going to call it Family Day, then that's what it should be about. We'll still mark February 28 as a special day for Z - the day he met his brothers, the day he arrived at his new home, the day our family was all together for the first time.* But <span style="font-style: italic;">Family Day</span> will be for all of us, a chance to celebrate the work of God in our lives, bringing us together, giving us each other, making us a family.<br /><br />This celebration will almost certainly morph and change with our family over the years, but we're kicking it off with two traditions: an overnight getaway and a video 'yearbook.' Each year we'll videotape the kids answering a few simple questions about themselves, asking them the same questions each year to show how they change over time. For now we'll celebrate in February, since that's when our family became complete, but if/when God gives us more children maybe the time of year will change.<br /><br />So... tomorrow is Family Day and we're going to Great Wolf Lodge! The big boys are over the moon already and Z is feeding off of their excitement even though he doesn't know what's coming. He absolutely <span style="font-style: italic;">loves</span> the water, so I'm pretty confident that once he gets over the noise (it's pretty loud in there with all the waterfalls and splashing and whatnot), he's gonna have a ball. We'll swim, slide, play, rest, and give glory to God for blessing us with one another. Happy Family Day!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*FYI in case you're interested, tentative plans for February 28 include: doro wat, injera, popcorn, and some quality time with the boys watching videos, looking at pictures, and telling stories about our trips to Ethiopia. Oh, and thanking Jesus for a precious boy and a miraculous year together.</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAe3NZ-_8_u0QSTUKHUepxeOLbGLEi9YrDVZyCvMcovVT0H5-xoQAGnTK9zIVh1Xb7hqptMd9n7Zsq8JwzeeBN2Un9QfbH_FHixpsk9lQFSWtK5WTflHuOV9Il3vTq11Bo2WCvKG05JU/s640/blogger-image--1969065948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img style="width: 523px; height: 391px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAe3NZ-_8_u0QSTUKHUepxeOLbGLEi9YrDVZyCvMcovVT0H5-xoQAGnTK9zIVh1Xb7hqptMd9n7Zsq8JwzeeBN2Un9QfbH_FHixpsk9lQFSWtK5WTflHuOV9Il3vTq11Bo2WCvKG05JU/s640/blogger-image--1969065948.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3 in a cart at Costco today</span><br /></div>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-85589548936149640072012-01-30T23:33:00.001-08:002012-01-31T20:39:41.990-08:00family dayOn February 28, 2011 we walked off a plane and began life as a family of five. We have a few plans and ideas for how to celebrate the upcoming first anniversary of this amazing day, which I'll share below, but first I want to tell you about how I was recently and unexpectedly whisked back to that moment - the moment our family was together for the first time.<br /><br />The boys were playing on my parents' computer a few days ago, watching home videos of themselves and their cousins. I was half-watching, half-checked-out, relaxed and thankful to have a moment of peace at the end of a busy day. N clicked to the next video and my head snapped up to see a fuzzy-headed brown-skinned boy being led onto an escalator by a tall, handsome white guy: shock. Tears. I have never seen this footage. Only now do I vaguely remember my brother having a video camera, but in the aftermath of Z's arrival I had forgotten all about it.<br /><br />As N clicked through the videos one by one I couldn't hold back the emotion. A year ago I experienced that momentous day through the lens of exhaustion, jet lag, unrealistic expectations, and healthy dose of fear. My memories of it are colored by the sleepless nights and tantrum-packed days that followed. Watching those scenes the other night felt like recovering something precious, like the long-awaited fulfillment of a promise, like scales falling off my eyes. It was pure gift.<br /><br />Viewing the event through the camera's perspective made me see it all with new eyes. So much beauty jumped off the screen: the genuine excitement and joy of my family members, meeting Z for the first time. N's gentle sweetness, taking Z's hand and leading him around the baggage area. The easy smile D gave his new brother, already trying to make Z laugh. And his mother, eyes bright with exhaustion and something else: a love she didn't know she was giving, receiving. <span style="font-style: italic;">She kissed his forehead, he clung to her shirt and rested his cheek on her chest.</span> At the time those exterior acts of affection felt false, while the swirls of frustration, fear, and ambivalence under the surface seemed all too real... but watching it now I see that I had it backwards. I see a mother who loves her son. Her fear and self-condemnation breaks my heart: I want to give her a hug, bring her some strong coffee, look her square in the eyes and say, "You're doing just fine, mama. Just fine."<br /><br />We finished watching and D asked me why I was crying. I told him it was because I just realized I am the luckiest mommy in the whole world. And I am.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*Oops I forgot to write about our plans for Family Day 2012... more coming soon.</span><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dysJYHHRAu4XI4j40YXPaCcAbOuAPobcBnC1kyiyssSYrSygTAlBCqirNnXx7wjb4bmBdQTuN-WfQUqWzODlQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-85944520355344610242012-01-25T22:30:00.000-08:002012-01-26T10:01:17.216-08:00marriage lettersI'm participating in a <a href="http://therunamuck.com/2012/01/23/marriage-letters-on-the-nightly-routine/">link-up</a> this week, hosted by Amber @ <a href="http://therunamuck.com/">The Run a Muck</a>. Here's what she has to say about it:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Join me and </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://wp.me/p10KLi-dG">Seth</a><span style="font-style: italic;"> (and also </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://joyinthisjourney.com/2012/01/marriage-letters-nightly-rituals/">Joy</a><span style="font-style: italic;"> and </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://movingbusmeditations.blogspot.com/2012/01/letter-to-joy-that-thing-we-do.html">Scott</a><span style="font-style: italic;">) as we work hard to preserve marriage by writing marriage letters. There may be only a handful of us doing it, but if you’ve written a letter or a post for your spouse, please do add your link and be sure to link back to us so others can be encouraged. Especially in this stage of small children, it’s been good for me to see that we aren’t alone, and if you’re past this stage, it’s good to know that you’ve made it.</span><br /><br />------------------<br /><br />Dear J,<br /><br />I am snuggled into my parents' guest bed, listening to the howling wind and spattering rain, waiting for you.<br /><br />The boys were wild tonight, or so I'm told. The sweet babysitter earned every penny... They missed us. (Or maybe they're just wild.) It's a hard habit to break: telling you about the kids first. They're the loudest news, but not all there is to say.<br /><br />I'm proud of you. Scrubbing floors and washing windows in our empty home, working while your family rests. I don't think there is any task you wouldn't do for us. Tomorrow a stranger will come with his camera, capturing the rooms where we laugh and bathe and scold and hold each other. On the flier they'll be bright and generic, as if anyone could do this, live here. We'll sell the walls and floors, but keep the sound of Matchbox car races on hardwood floors, the smell of sleepy boys between us on a Saturday morning, the window reflection of our long hugs in the kitchen when all the dishes are done.<br /><br />Do I tell you that I need you? I do. Our house is just a house; God made you to be my home.<br /><br />Love,<br />HHaleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-38348190882476736082012-01-24T23:22:00.001-08:002012-01-25T14:22:18.817-08:00wild weather, perfect feet, and a quick getaway<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUz5cdXkqugimOYlr8dN9h1apng6E2V3ymDgsI7hyphenhyphen-Ir4-4n9nk3bMTBf_TdvLSFCm1O572a3FrAXyuHQyVdU2QZPyfxMt0i-QeukojHLAKQezdY8cHDnIkzdMneI5vyf-t1cyT1-RluQ/s1600/IMG_6215.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701697277096366514" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUz5cdXkqugimOYlr8dN9h1apng6E2V3ymDgsI7hyphenhyphen-Ir4-4n9nk3bMTBf_TdvLSFCm1O572a3FrAXyuHQyVdU2QZPyfxMt0i-QeukojHLAKQezdY8cHDnIkzdMneI5vyf-t1cyT1-RluQ/s400/IMG_6215.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div>It's been crazy around here lately: snow, ice, unexpected house guests, power outages, a weekend away, and an exciting trip to the doctor, all in the last 7 days!<br /><div><div><br />Last week we had our first (and hopefully only) major snow event of the season, which meant no school, no work, and no driving anywhere for a few days. Then an ice storm hit, followed by more snow, which meant many downed trees and branches, causing power outages that affected us and over 300,000 other residents for two full days (and longer for some). In the meantime, we took in some friends of friends who were stranded in Seattle for three days trying to get back to Southern California. We love house guests and the boys were thrilled to make friends with Kristen and Karen, a mother/daughter pair from Orange County - great folks.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbVVohBErxCEtMFTwZY-Qm2hneVYBB__PwpMumybw9l_hGtnL2hH7VIz3Vm3LNJnrSpoGvQRR6C3e4eqCePwLMJHb_DKbEeF066jitIwFbgHw8uUiGsYUt_S2_yH8mN_F5xQ2zcoU9BI/s1600/IMG_6229-1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701697036044235586" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 324px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbVVohBErxCEtMFTwZY-Qm2hneVYBB__PwpMumybw9l_hGtnL2hH7VIz3Vm3LNJnrSpoGvQRR6C3e4eqCePwLMJHb_DKbEeF066jitIwFbgHw8uUiGsYUt_S2_yH8mN_F5xQ2zcoU9BI/s400/IMG_6229-1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoE1xiCqJmO6kBymdrEcJyu6ZG2exbmI-ThE5pFQIUzYoNlVSmUKpei0Xol4K9cFnjR3k8tLst0cldMBZCI0N363kkfA0Wu_56sZtamFOaensHBFbcSjR4diPw88Bc_h8kgH-j6ZVVhc/s1600/IMG_6242.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701697023823340306" style="WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoE1xiCqJmO6kBymdrEcJyu6ZG2exbmI-ThE5pFQIUzYoNlVSmUKpei0Xol4K9cFnjR3k8tLst0cldMBZCI0N363kkfA0Wu_56sZtamFOaensHBFbcSjR4diPw88Bc_h8kgH-j6ZVVhc/s400/IMG_6242.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Anyway, the reason I'm bothering to blog about this is because in the midst of this big storm we still managed to make it across the city to Z's follow up appointment with his pediatric orthopedic doctor. I didn't want to drive that far in the ice and snow, but when I called to reschedule their next available was in May! Considering there was a possibility that Z might need surgery in April I was not about to wait that long, so we borrowed my parents' 4WD SUV and braved the roads. It turned out to be worth the trip because the doc took one good look at Z's foot and pronounced his club foot to be totally corrected! He recommended we continue to use his orthotic brace at night until he turns three, and he wants to see us again in a year, but other than that we are DONE. Praise God!</div><br />In other exciting news, last weekend J and I had our first overnight trip away from the boys since Z came home. We went to Vegas for... wait for it... a baptism. Isn't that why everyone goes to Vegas? Our dear friends Mike and Nicole (who live there) asked us to be the godparents for their beautiful baby boy, who happens to share a name with Z. We were honored, and happy to come out for the baptism (OK, and a little fun at the tables too -- we actually won $70!).<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimoKsGiwYDROnRUaOLoyV2EC6UjuTomPFhPaG3DbM6ZieRRiA25KIJ4Yo7eabeP-jG2WfElUeQafR0fyCWqkeYqrr8C7yWcBqKYkdCXOgNk84MK85QDigyQYBMLbS4gO5ayA35MHWfN5c/s1600/IMG_6270.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701697011684354738" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimoKsGiwYDROnRUaOLoyV2EC6UjuTomPFhPaG3DbM6ZieRRiA25KIJ4Yo7eabeP-jG2WfElUeQafR0fyCWqkeYqrr8C7yWcBqKYkdCXOgNk84MK85QDigyQYBMLbS4gO5ayA35MHWfN5c/s400/IMG_6270.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This was our first time leaving Z for that long, and he did great. My parents were out of town too, but thankfully Z's preschool teacher is also a close family friend and one of the few people we would completely trust with all 3 of our boys, so she and her husband stayed with the kids and the weekend went well (aside from a few potty accidents... sorry Colleen! You're the best!). We've been back two days and so far I haven't seen any signs that our time away had any negative impact on Z or our attachment process... which means we should do it again soon, right?!<br /><br />When I think back to where we were about 9 months ago, these two milestones seem utterly unbelievable. At that time Z's foot was in a cast, he hadn't been put to bed or fed by (much less left alone with) anyone but us since coming home, and I could just barely make out a pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel. I am so humbled and thankful for all that God has done to bring us from there to here!</div></div></div></div>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-4528674661729053592012-01-16T13:20:00.000-08:002012-01-16T14:02:04.919-08:00MLKToday we watched this together:<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/smEqnnklfYs" allowfullscreen="" width="420" frameborder="0" height="315"></iframe><br /><br />Then we read <a href="http://allthingshendrick.blogspot.com/2012/01/dissatisfied-until-that-day-celebrating.html">this post</a> about child slavery in Ghana (or rather, I summarized it for the kids in an age-appropriate manner), and made a small donation to the <a href="http://mercyproject.net/">Mercy Project.</a> (H/T <a href="http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com/2012/01/let-us-be-dissatisfied-until-those-that.html">Kristen</a>)<br /><br />His dream is alive, but it is not finished...<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwxWVPo8K0E8CpGm80eDOZK3yk8bqmiKU2V17Q_W74EsnZZZwbKNq1Ph_rEixV11FbykZUi3-mOr4_l9L3z5w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">For the sake of cuteness, here's a circa 2009 video of 3 year-old N talking about MLK</span></span>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-87475008067012684822012-01-13T13:25:00.000-08:002012-01-13T15:58:31.913-08:00talking about raceRace is one of those things that I have hesitated to write about for a few reasons. It is scary to me to write on such a far-reaching and loaded topic because two of my biggest fears are being misunderstood and offending people, and race might be the topic most prone to misunderstanding and offense in the whole universe. I'm also hesitant to write anything about race because I know I can say <span style="font-style: italic;">something</span> but I can't begin to say <span style="font-style: italic;">everything,</span> which means I'll leave something out and not say what I really mean and not give this topic the thorough and nuanced treatment it merits.<br /><br />Buuuuuuut, those are all basically excuses. As a transracial adoptive parent, this is something I can't afford to be afraid to talk about, so today I'm diving in and sharing my thoughts, questions, and ideas about race.<br /><br />Three years ago I would have told you that the issue of race did not play a major role in my life (spoken like a true white person). I did not believe myself to hold any racial biases. I believed that America was a place where people of any race could succeed if they worked hard enough, and the election of our first black president seemed to put an exclamation point on that sentiment.<br /><br />What do I believe about race in America now? I'm not sure. I do know that in terms of racial equality, this country started on a very bad foot, and that the echoes of those beginnings still ring loudly today. I grew up and remain today largely shielded from that noise, but that doesn't make it any less real.<br /><br />I am a product of White Privilege. I'm not ashamed of that, I don't feel guilty for that, and I can't apologize for that because I didn't choose to be born white, nor did I create the system which afforded me such privilege. I believe that my whiteness has been a critical factor in my success in school, sports, and relationships throughout my life. If you misinterpret that statement it could actually come across as being racist, so let me clarify: I am <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> saying that being white in and of itself made me a better student, better athlete, or better friend/wife/mom. I am saying that the systems and institutions of our society provided me, my (white) parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and on down the line, with unearned privileges that significantly impacted our ability to succeed... because we were white.<br /><br />Maybe that last paragraph makes you roll your eyes and say "duh." Maybe it makes you confused. Maybe it makes you yell at your computer screen, "What are you talking about?! What about poor, unsuccessful white people?! What about rich, successful black people?! What about all the hard work that you and your family members before you put in to earn the success you all achieved?!"<br /><br />Fair questions. Questions I just wrote 450 words trying to answer and then erased them all because they didn't even scratch the surface.<br /><br />Other people have written clearly and thoughtfully about this, and rather than trying to summarize their words, I'll just tell you why I decided to listen to them. During the process of preparing to parent a child of another race, I had to come face to face with the truth that I didn't (don't?) have the first clue what my son will experience as a child of color. I realized that the sum total of my knowledge about race in America today could fit on the head of a pin. I stopped talking and started listening. The things I heard sounded strange, impossible even, but I had to remind myself, <span style="font-style: italic;">I wouldn't know.</span><br /><br />It might sound magnanimous to say that race doesn't matter in adoption. Love is colorblind, and all that. I can say that race doesn't matter, because it's never had to matter for me. But it might very well matter to <span style="font-style: italic;">my son.</span> And if I am not equipped to understand or even acknowledge that reality then I am leaving him out in the cold on a critical identity issue. Please, let's not do this to our kids. Let's not be afraid of race. Let's not shove it in a back corner and pretend it doesn't exist. Let's put it on the table and talk about it, because our children learn from what we <span style="font-style: italic;">don't</span> say as much as from what we do.<br /><br />Our first-grader is learning about Martin Luther King Jr. this week at school. He was telling me what he had learned about the civil rights movement, and I shared with him that racial discrimination and prejudice still exists today, though they take different forms than in MLK's time. N considered this, then looked up at me and asked, "Then who is helping today, Mommy?" <span style="font-style: italic;">Gulp.</span> "We need to," I told him. And we do. I'm still bumbling my way through figuring out exactly <span style="font-style: italic;">how</span> we do that, but I won't put my head back in the sand and pretend it doesn't need to happen.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Books, Links, & Resources</span><br />[this is a VERY incomplete list -- less of a resource list and more like a road map of my specific journey]<br />-------------------------------------------<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/White-Like-Me-Tim-Wise/dp/1458780910/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top">White Like Me</a>, by Tim Wise -- start here.<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Uncle-Toms-Cabin-ebook/dp/B000JQU6YU/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1326494108&sr=1-1">Uncle Tom's Cabin</a>, by Harriet Beecher Stowe -- slavery sucks.<br /><a href="http://nymbp.org/reference/WhitePrivilege.pdf">White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack</a>, by Peggy McIntosh -- free pdf<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sword-Lord-Fundamentalism-American-Family/dp/1453843752/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1326494136&sr=1-1">The Sword of the Lord</a>, by Andrew Himes -- this one is not focused on racism, but it gives a window into race & conservative Christianity in the 20th century.<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Same-Kind-Different-Modern-Day-International/dp/084991910X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1326494187&sr=1-1">The Same Kind of Different As Me,</a> by Ron Hall and Denver Moore -- again, not a book about racism specifically, but Denver's story blew my mind.<br /><a href="http://livesayhaiti.blogspot.com/2011/11/transracial-adoption.html">Love is NOT Colorblind</a>, from the Livesay [Haiti] blog<br /><a href="http://chinaadoptiontalk.blogspot.com/2011/06/parenting-while-not-noticing-race.html">Parenting While Not Noticing Race</a>, from the Adoption Talk blog<br /><a href="http://loveisntenough.com/">Love Isn't Enough</a>, blog about race and parenting<br /><a href="http://www.racialicious.com/">Racialicious</a>, blog about race and pop culture<br /><br />**What's missing from this list: more stuff written by people of color. Thanks for your patience, I'm working on it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy-P2AUdq59ZoiR_xyXDcSHpgZNNd4NTUZS16TA6-wFSW9qnW2sBXTVSV6nPFwwtSsJdf1afVjgRMJCNXsiYiGnklNibPvYRVRSj0P_cw1U_yCJFE9lIa0Bug12Ld9aSKZBEDI3O3h2c/s1600/IMG_5910-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy-P2AUdq59ZoiR_xyXDcSHpgZNNd4NTUZS16TA6-wFSW9qnW2sBXTVSV6nPFwwtSsJdf1afVjgRMJCNXsiYiGnklNibPvYRVRSj0P_cw1U_yCJFE9lIa0Bug12Ld9aSKZBEDI3O3h2c/s400/IMG_5910-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697253729124649010" border="0" /></a><br /><br />**What's missing from this picture of our boys and their cousins on J's side? You guessed it - more people of color! Thanks for your patience, and no, we're not working on it yet... but hopefully someday. :)Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-9264805542367279812012-01-10T20:20:00.000-08:002012-01-10T21:04:29.360-08:00mesob mischief and miscellanyI really want to write a post about race, but <strike>I'm a little bit scared</strike> I don't have time tonight, so instead I will share this photo of Z at the <a href="http://thatwemightbeadopted.blogspot.com/2012/01/melkam-genna-in-washington.html">YWAM Ethiopia Melkam Genna</a> event last weekend:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtq11QR-XoDPooomHoEeOn0Pd4ymAWgByagI1IwatI0wkD6jO7RJsN7KLK09zuPOGMim6xGg4bDUrMXGfFM11GJQ9kZ5Zq87jhmpMtHOyia__MOZuxEVBie7ygiERLechbTJNe90nvJE/s1600/IMG_6158.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtq11QR-XoDPooomHoEeOn0Pd4ymAWgByagI1IwatI0wkD6jO7RJsN7KLK09zuPOGMim6xGg4bDUrMXGfFM11GJQ9kZ5Zq87jhmpMtHOyia__MOZuxEVBie7ygiERLechbTJNe90nvJE/s400/IMG_6158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696230172461691714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This week has been ever-so-slightly better than <a href="http://ballastadoption.blogspot.com/2012/01/unhappy-new-year.html">last week</a>. Progress! I am taking extra time each day to remind Z that he is loved and safe; I hope it is sinking in.<br /><br />Last week I was at the Ethiopian market by our house and struck up a conversation with another patron. He asked if Z was adopted, and then asked what part of Ethiopia he was from. As it turned out, this man was from a town just 20 minutes from Z's birth place! He was so excited to tell me that there are many Ethiopians from that region in Seattle and he invited me to come to his church. I cracked up when he pointed to Z and told me, "I have two small children at home and they look just like him!" We exchanged contact information and I'm hoping we can connect again soon. I continue to be amazed by the friendliness and hospitality of the Ethiopian community here! What a blessing for families like ours.<br /><br />Stay tuned for heavier stuff (maybe)...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">*Mesob</span> is the Amharic word for the woven basket that Z is sitting in. :)</span>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-9088475760500105172012-01-04T09:00:00.000-08:002012-01-04T09:00:08.674-08:00(un)happy new year<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrqGnyeYULqydN2s9ycWj1OJBcj-KxFDYoFKsWqQCCZtcKv6to6vuHikDEANnhplH0NiufHr9YZLYL8OcuOniLkXD4bmBVAtXxEKAMxOiS-l1OH5kBU7J-C_uHKVqWn496wk7EnHGu98/s1600/IMG_2597-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrqGnyeYULqydN2s9ycWj1OJBcj-KxFDYoFKsWqQCCZtcKv6to6vuHikDEANnhplH0NiufHr9YZLYL8OcuOniLkXD4bmBVAtXxEKAMxOiS-l1OH5kBU7J-C_uHKVqWn496wk7EnHGu98/s400/IMG_2597-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693656107193569586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />From what I can tell, Z is trying to show the year 2012 who's boss. And so far? I think he's winning.<br /><br />OK, so it probably has nothing to do with the calendar changing from December to January, but the change in Z's behavior marked. Remember my post last month about how <a href="http://ballastadoption.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy.html">happy</a> he was? Well, he rang in the New Year with the biggest tantrum we've seen since our first week together in Ethiopia. Only now he is 10 months older and has that much more strength and stamina, plus the vocabulary to throw in a few barbed words with the screams. The good news is that we have 10 months of parenting this boy under our belts, and we knew what he needed (though it took him a full hour to be convinced). What did he need? He needed to know that we're not leaving, we're not quitting, we're not giving up. He can scream, cry, thrash, and hurl ugly words all he wants: we're still here. During our time in Ethiopia with him and in the first week or two at home his fits would end when he wore himself out to utter exhaustion and fell asleep mid-scream. But our New Year's morning rager ended with him resting on my lap, letting me feed him bits of string cheese, pausing to nuzzle his head into my neck. For the moment, he was reassured and relaxed.<br /><br />The past few days since then haven't held any major tantrums, but Z has been restless and touchy, struggling through mealtimes and waking up in the night. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this -- we've been off-schedule with the holidays and school breaks, there's been so much going on, we just returned from a week visiting Mimi & Grandpa three time zones away, and maybe that's all there is to it. He's confused by the strange schedule, he's overtired from traveling, he's adjusting to the transition back to home.<br /><br />Or...<br /><br />We're on the cusp of becoming Z's longest placement. I only have approximate dates for when he was moved from place to place, but if the information I have is correct then the longest he has ever lived in one place is around 10 or 11 months. Adoption literature suggests that even very young children can be subconsciously aware of these time intervals, and may display regressive behaviors around those times. Is this happening with Z? I have no idea. If anything its probably the combination of lots of changes happening at an inopportune time. But just in case, I am going to do my best to meet these behaviors with extra compassion for my little guy. More than anything, I want him to feel safe and loved and secure -- I want him to know that we are not just a placement: we are a family.Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-74686927282680392052012-01-03T20:38:00.000-08:002012-01-03T20:44:14.606-08:00sigh no moreMy 2012 New Year's Resolution:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">To sigh less.<br /><br /></span>I don't know when my sighing habit started. I rarely realize I'm doing it, and I probably wouldn't have noticed it at all except for the good-natured teasing I get from my husband about it. It may seem like a small thing that isn't worth bothering over, but I've come to realize that there is a lot more to my sighs than breath.<br /><br />I sigh when I feel hopeless.<br /><br />I sigh when I think of all the things I didn't get done today.<br /><br />I sigh when I'm worried about something.<br /><br />I sigh when I'm thinking negative thoughts about myself.<br /><br />I sigh when I'm disappointed.<br /><br />I sigh when I'm letting the kids' behavior drive me nuts.<br /><br />I sigh when I'm being impatient.<br /><br />But mostly I sigh when I forget -- forget who I am, forget my calling, forget God's grace, forget my blessings, and forget my unshakeable place in the everlasting kingdom of the One who calls me his Beloved.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />This year, instead of sighing I want to learn to breathe. </span><br /><br />To inhale God's peace and exhale my gratitude. To inhale remembering myself in Christ, and to exhale his love to the people around me. I want to breathe in the forgiveness and unconditional loving-kindness of God and let go of the lies, distractions, and anxieties that bind me and blind me to his goodness.<br /><br />[Notice that my resolution is to sigh <span style="font-style: italic;">less</span>. The grace is built right in, to preempt the temptation to heave a big fat ugly sigh over my failure to completely eradicate sighing. I'm onto you, inner perfectionist!]<br /><br />Tonight at dinner I caught myself beginning to sigh no less than 10 times. Ten times! During one meal! But that's OK. Ten times to reorient and re-purpose m<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>y breath. Ten times to remember. Ten times to let the Spirit of God fill me, even as my toddler screamed and my first-grader asked the same question over and over and my preschooler sassed me and my husband tried to tell me about his day but I couldn't hear a word on account of the screaming and pestering and sassing... Breathe.<br /><br />---<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">P.S. The title of this blog is a Mumford & Sons song, which did not particularly inspire my resolution but is share-worthy nonetheless:</span><br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ye8QBCSeV60" allowfullscreen="" width="560" frameborder="0" height="315"></iframe>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-26657541460567565982011-12-23T22:37:00.000-08:002011-12-23T23:10:02.987-08:00prayer warriorWe say prayers with Z before bedtime and naps each day. Like good Presbyterians, we fold our hands and close our eyes and speak softly, thanking God for his blessings and praying for our friends, family, and others around the world. Lately, after I finish saying prayers, Z wants to say his own prayers: he scrunches up his face, hunches his shoulders, and mumbles unintelligibly. Sometimes he throws in some wild hand gestures or sways from side to side, and on rare occasion I can make out a word or two (usually a name of someone we have seen that day). It absolutely cracks me up because it is not like anything he has seen people here do when they pray... I guess they must have had some pretty rockin' prayer sessions at the Widow & Orphan homes! It is amazing to see the little treasures he has kept with him from that time.<br /><br />In other news, he is thoroughly enjoying his first Christmas season in America! Ever since his 2nd birthday in April, he has been a huge fan of all things birthday related, so the fact that Christmas is Baby Jesus' birthday makes it extra special in his book. Merry Christmas everyone!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5t1A2_KElVyBsUJSsarQVnSQEnZymcgBphDuJ3XpfnN_ORPzJt-TmPbBx40UkBBqErIHT_WSO0ihX4Escdao3v4iuEiL5g0DYHRcwbl7q5vWe5pqtJl6SiKhUTWn8czUZRO4-8ni6gCw/s1600/IMG_5870.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5t1A2_KElVyBsUJSsarQVnSQEnZymcgBphDuJ3XpfnN_ORPzJt-TmPbBx40UkBBqErIHT_WSO0ihX4Escdao3v4iuEiL5g0DYHRcwbl7q5vWe5pqtJl6SiKhUTWn8czUZRO4-8ni6gCw/s400/IMG_5870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689588464348176674" border="0" /></a>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-13246895560754629832011-12-19T10:51:00.001-08:002011-12-19T11:15:57.077-08:00happy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitn1pwHMPPHirumE3Gc2AunfD62wBgEIh0NfKP6KKTrkmpBH3EgeYan2xAj-NYUMUe6lKVK5jbhFh2UPEZKpHtHvNj2P0s08ByfIE7gZETsfmQXFBy2sXzzbU7wWHmeWP9hp8axvqBqvQ/s1600/IMG_4066-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitn1pwHMPPHirumE3Gc2AunfD62wBgEIh0NfKP6KKTrkmpBH3EgeYan2xAj-NYUMUe6lKVK5jbhFh2UPEZKpHtHvNj2P0s08ByfIE7gZETsfmQXFBy2sXzzbU7wWHmeWP9hp8axvqBqvQ/s400/IMG_4066-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687916165637023506" border="0" /></a><br />This smile says it all: my son is happy.<br /><br />Last night we saw some friends who haven't seen Z since summertime and they kept telling us how different he seemed compared to a few months ago. "He just seems so much more open and relaxed now," was the comment we heard more than once.<br /><br />Not that he was miserable before, but over the past few months we have noticed a subtle shift in Z's overall demeanor. He is comfortable. He feels safe. He not only trusts us as his parents, he also trusts his environment. These feelings of safety and trust have given him a freedom to play, and laugh, and open himself up in deeper ways than we have seen before. It is beautiful and miraculous and the best present this mama could ever ask for.<br /><br />I'll wrap this up with two cute little stories from the past week:<br /><br />I have sung the exact same 4 songs to Z every time I put him down for a nap or bedtime since the first month he came home. He seems to thrive on that predictability and has gotten mad any time I've tried to stray from the routine... until the other day when he asked me to sing the "star song", which I managed to figure out meant "Away in a Manger". (We have a kids nativity set that plays that song when you push a button and a star lights up while the song is playing.) Now he insists on us singing the 'star song' before naps and bed -- it's become his own little Advent tradition.<br /><br />Last night when I tucked him in I asked him, "Who loves Z?" and he smiled up at me and said, "Jesus!" Melt my heart.Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-72168981664718001562011-12-12T13:34:00.000-08:002011-12-13T09:10:05.751-08:00who is my neighbor<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Rs6emwXr87dTBm3f6LjzF94q3IrrgvhCrRqXTbsO_rFOGq2_Tk-gn8Xz0kHzcRAHacHQNDBhZ351jkjJqF9jmBXfso4wlHsXXidQFF0rIqD-n1aloxOt6RuUDnlGpTAvXftTgq1_B5o/s1600/good+samaritan.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Rs6emwXr87dTBm3f6LjzF94q3IrrgvhCrRqXTbsO_rFOGq2_Tk-gn8Xz0kHzcRAHacHQNDBhZ351jkjJqF9jmBXfso4wlHsXXidQFF0rIqD-n1aloxOt6RuUDnlGpTAvXftTgq1_B5o/s400/good+samaritan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685432299458724562" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);">Karin Kraus: The Good Samaritan</span></b></span><br /><br />It could have been me. I could have been born in a country where women are property. I could have become pregnant at an age when I should have been jumping rope. I could have contracted HIV from my unfaithful husband, had no access to medication, gotten sicker and sicker, and died before my baby's first steps. I could have suffered from mental illness in a place where you can't even find band-aids. I could have been forced to choose between losing my child forever or watching us both slowly starve. It could have been me.*<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>People often ask us why we adopted. It's not because we have so much to offer. It's not because we're nice. It's not because we wanted to be heroes. It's because it could just as easily have been our family torn apart by circumstances far beyond our control, the children born to us left to fend for themselves.<br /><br />It is so easy to forget that. It is easy to think we are safe, we are different, or (forgive us, Lord) we are better. It is easy to pretend that we earned this life. It is easy to see ourselves as those who have climbed high enough to be able to condescend a few rungs on the ladder to help a poor soul. But we're not, and we didn't, and we haven't.<br /><br />There are no strangers. We are brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers and sons and daughters. We are not made to be all things to all people, but we are still made for each other.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.artway.eu/content.asp?id=1060&lang=en&action=show">Who is my neighbor</a>? The one I love, not out of pity, but out of recognition. He is my son.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >*These examples are not specific to Z's birth family, but they are all commonplace circumstances in Ethiopia.</span>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-89739651729899403482011-12-04T22:53:00.001-08:002011-12-05T02:14:00.257-08:00memoriesWe are making lots of fun new memories together this season, but it was an old memory that blew me away yesterday.<br /><br />Z was playing with a little fleece scarf as I prepped dinner. This kid loves to accessorize, so he was having a good old time finding different ways to wear the scarf and I was not paying too much attention -- just thankful to have him occupied while I cooked. "Baby back-pack-pack?" (That's his word for backpack - he throws the extra syllable in there just for fun.) I looked over at him and was confused for a minute. He had wrapped the scarf around his belly and was smiling up at me like he'd done something clever. "Z baby back-pack-pack!" he announced. <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh! </span>Finally silly mommy got it: he was pretending to have a baby wrapped on his back with the scarf. Which he has not seen since he left Ethiopia<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> nine months ago.</span></span> How crazy is that? Makes me wonder what else he remembers... My psychology background tells me that by the time he is old enough to answer the question "What do you remember from Ethiopia?" he will not have much, if anything, to say. I know that in my head, but my heart longs to hear so much more.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6IxNm7CjFcluEb6TQvflr3ViPJVvatYAJqELFPyecmGqOQE-YqAHu5TCNNlUY0cWhKvzQWUcVO9_-DgwZwyJPCv-fzjnzSgkqvmXsKJQ0v8zaAnPZmMLNGj0woNanx-iCJhM_RRqhcM/s1600/2011_12_03.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6IxNm7CjFcluEb6TQvflr3ViPJVvatYAJqELFPyecmGqOQE-YqAHu5TCNNlUY0cWhKvzQWUcVO9_-DgwZwyJPCv-fzjnzSgkqvmXsKJQ0v8zaAnPZmMLNGj0woNanx-iCJhM_RRqhcM/s400/2011_12_03.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682561985017035426" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We can't do much to help Z keep his old memories, but we are having lots of fun making new ones together. This season has been particularly sweet, as we watch Z take in all the new experiences of his first Christmas season in America. Surprises so far: he was not scared to meet Santa and he is totally unfazed by the huge fir tree in our house. Not-so-surprising: he made loud silly noises through our whole Advent candle lighting and family devotional time, he's loving the Fisher Price nativity set, and he thinks candy canes are the best thing ever. Can't argue with that!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT7nK9k_y0Y0zdqL4iyPdw0V-3wxfOBpmILWT57Yi9-otoV58V_ZpLbJ5L7vaKfa8wrQQq5TT-DZsQDl67ohMGv9bl7WnY7aVWMHxfVrv8zkgU-yUY7YzuhNwE_7jw-aU9Afcrvzberg8/s1600/IMG_5665-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT7nK9k_y0Y0zdqL4iyPdw0V-3wxfOBpmILWT57Yi9-otoV58V_ZpLbJ5L7vaKfa8wrQQq5TT-DZsQDl67ohMGv9bl7WnY7aVWMHxfVrv8zkgU-yUY7YzuhNwE_7jw-aU9Afcrvzberg8/s400/IMG_5665-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682561987046368978" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcP0TPZaB5lTrGm-FtjrhdYHKGgsUtOG0G32E1OlwhhlQI_gaPcp9z-aZvuwnpBZK9PKFI4KJ0Kbcrs1aZOWJXCDtjN9GTTr3U6lp1kKj97aLek7YT99koWkqJGvAccE6rQJ8Mz-7OJeo/s1600/IMG_5682.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcP0TPZaB5lTrGm-FtjrhdYHKGgsUtOG0G32E1OlwhhlQI_gaPcp9z-aZvuwnpBZK9PKFI4KJ0Kbcrs1aZOWJXCDtjN9GTTr3U6lp1kKj97aLek7YT99koWkqJGvAccE6rQJ8Mz-7OJeo/s400/IMG_5682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682562005505027954" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIG3YZRrm_g8UyOG-_p4CoHdSa8R3zAM0DTXZ0x06mknEA_58_cyUqmj6TXNfItv4nd7lRnCf7oMIM3ONWQTXMIclXpHavZqoG9iJdl1mC0cA8D2T9W2TUENfP3wTxtuknptsKg2goBM/s1600/IMG_5704.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIG3YZRrm_g8UyOG-_p4CoHdSa8R3zAM0DTXZ0x06mknEA_58_cyUqmj6TXNfItv4nd7lRnCf7oMIM3ONWQTXMIclXpHavZqoG9iJdl1mC0cA8D2T9W2TUENfP3wTxtuknptsKg2goBM/s400/IMG_5704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682573137107526034" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoV7Z9wMUfXeXFn2Irdt8b683G-DDYNEqmsQ1aujZFlVO09VUwwifEdk0jJwHrndkXPbWHmMuhxENt8XAb9RzsCIfW9ImgK7fGqo3V3Q8IOnjbE6R6Tf_3RYHYJnoeIjUFFwiwYby4pPM/s1600/IMG_5720.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoV7Z9wMUfXeXFn2Irdt8b683G-DDYNEqmsQ1aujZFlVO09VUwwifEdk0jJwHrndkXPbWHmMuhxENt8XAb9RzsCIfW9ImgK7fGqo3V3Q8IOnjbE6R6Tf_3RYHYJnoeIjUFFwiwYby4pPM/s400/IMG_5720.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682583240529458706" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMCPSAQJXvc2s_VWFljvLNuMJRKkgybWT6b8kgguN2pCtwTb4ZVRIWdLJOwjO-qudBha2slqWQaxHjfC8P2k5xq0A1BANRZKKDmIlh3TsIt8hkG-4Ou5atpIKphlbXPf_iz5s2aZ3630/s1600/IMG_5732.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMCPSAQJXvc2s_VWFljvLNuMJRKkgybWT6b8kgguN2pCtwTb4ZVRIWdLJOwjO-qudBha2slqWQaxHjfC8P2k5xq0A1BANRZKKDmIlh3TsIt8hkG-4Ou5atpIKphlbXPf_iz5s2aZ3630/s400/IMG_5732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682583248680992706" border="0" /></a>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-70631730132777372112011-11-28T20:31:00.000-08:002011-11-28T20:48:26.222-08:009 monthsToday Z has been home for 9 months! I'm going to save my next 'epic' post-placement installment for the 1 year mark, but I didn't want to let this milestone slip by unnoticed.<br /><br />Z continues to live up to his names: he is strengthened by God - a strong, resilient, and loving boy, and he is an immeasurable blessing to our whole family.<br /><br />We're all yours, buddy!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1qGoPh5184y3h7ywctD27qesK5ggBrBsfW2f_wNIPDcmn46Odm0_hX2AF_pk-YwMhlrvyZqj9mxtW-g6HBmolZ-4IIV9WJhK1_-g89ePvqA_o7xsKVkL7J9Voh9a9yzUltxmj-bmmxWc/s1600/IMG_5396.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1qGoPh5184y3h7ywctD27qesK5ggBrBsfW2f_wNIPDcmn46Odm0_hX2AF_pk-YwMhlrvyZqj9mxtW-g6HBmolZ-4IIV9WJhK1_-g89ePvqA_o7xsKVkL7J9Voh9a9yzUltxmj-bmmxWc/s400/IMG_5396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680273902753654610" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">first thanksgiving!</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9hAOvcGM8Suy1Ls2Wjh2DDim_3_R_wi6Jsl8RjfoRB-dN75Z9LmetaRzXdJFurSu7ROiS6fHJ04J15GyeROXjkQDi43pExTdK2jqh8XWCwQoK0Xg4yavjSPqf03IuSjZ7l-I0Isnlms/s1600/IMG_5395.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9hAOvcGM8Suy1Ls2Wjh2DDim_3_R_wi6Jsl8RjfoRB-dN75Z9LmetaRzXdJFurSu7ROiS6fHJ04J15GyeROXjkQDi43pExTdK2jqh8XWCwQoK0Xg4yavjSPqf03IuSjZ7l-I0Isnlms/s400/IMG_5395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680273888727341986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">my nana spoils me.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_VTErihubKshxwLXjPzLM4RZgEoFAV2vbBH8dpRVbjgg6wG8KLmcVSo3Ph4Frncv7UF_qBcH_HWtzG_WIgRO0EJRhHp_f7qWjwQuL0jL1TiWLZtvLnD6e7IZufDaiGPmvKEe0lRVeE4/s1600/IMG_5357-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 352px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_VTErihubKshxwLXjPzLM4RZgEoFAV2vbBH8dpRVbjgg6wG8KLmcVSo3Ph4Frncv7UF_qBcH_HWtzG_WIgRO0EJRhHp_f7qWjwQuL0jL1TiWLZtvLnD6e7IZufDaiGPmvKEe0lRVeE4/s400/IMG_5357-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680273877318262226" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgB3nWf2HwxT2piFNQZ3ZElAvnPPSbnQi4QTYqSwMkzCykeYGfhjjRn5nq0efHcpo5XUFlQSYADcR34DRE6-xPae3aInC8577XxPQ5qu9CHPe9ItbK_Ule6JDF9gkzknYCf585eYn6u7g/s1600/IMG_5356-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgB3nWf2HwxT2piFNQZ3ZElAvnPPSbnQi4QTYqSwMkzCykeYGfhjjRn5nq0efHcpo5XUFlQSYADcR34DRE6-xPae3aInC8577XxPQ5qu9CHPe9ItbK_Ule6JDF9gkzknYCf585eYn6u7g/s400/IMG_5356-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680273869955890194" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">ready for my close-up.</span><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzkaExe0-99QjA5lSInECafxZ0ARv-_t2DlLYJ3XdWpcT3URiwocpF_XrId4TbneIeoX2XikJknC_KlX5Fcew' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">dancing with mama.</span>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-36717774309978809802011-11-25T19:32:00.001-08:002011-11-25T21:29:54.259-08:007 quick takes: thanksgiving photo essay version[I promise to post something other than '7 quick takes' sometime soon. In the meantime I've thrown together some photo collages featuring moments from the last week when I was not breaking up fights, wiping bums, or stepping on cheerios with bare feet. Enjoy!]<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. Early Thanksgiving dinner with my fam.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01_9FpTbR8e0sPVptd4lV0ojzQEzL0ugCc0sf7LtUoDuw_B8jNKqy9Uz0rOYfbjTx9b2b5KMrnQ_De1EPufew1Yf6mB8K_JILsNIwvTf1Z2UYXv87D0hjsIduOXQI4Rxvo0OXv9cpScQ/s1600/2011_11_19.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01_9FpTbR8e0sPVptd4lV0ojzQEzL0ugCc0sf7LtUoDuw_B8jNKqy9Uz0rOYfbjTx9b2b5KMrnQ_De1EPufew1Yf6mB8K_JILsNIwvTf1Z2UYXv87D0hjsIduOXQI4Rxvo0OXv9cpScQ/s400/2011_11_19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679146342348547602" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />2. Prepping for dinner at our place.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wC6Ye0h5qBLeohq2Ho0JEieQ81aFNVuP9zXOHyREltP4h0DbKbBfFtBOGNJXWYn9NL0WUnE2QNKhz5ftGfLCbELO1wL2A2BH4qF235N-HIVUfLUiD2P55zuV0n_X5ICeunVZBAN-XOg/s1600/2011_11_20.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wC6Ye0h5qBLeohq2Ho0JEieQ81aFNVuP9zXOHyREltP4h0DbKbBfFtBOGNJXWYn9NL0WUnE2QNKhz5ftGfLCbELO1wL2A2BH4qF235N-HIVUfLUiD2P55zuV0n_X5ICeunVZBAN-XOg/s400/2011_11_20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679146355811366610" border="0" /></a><br />N made placemats and I practiced making apple candles.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />[2.5 -- The real deal.]<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqYEUCymXG3UngO08fIKL0MlDBZYDhfC6jP3_VUit036dX5pioVpfeGjGe4FhQoRGjLJDoglVFiByhHrCRaBXhG5rGm6eHM5cQOWIP9oPY_RWzn0kiqReK3nISxiXsUsXIZBPYJdu6dw/s1600/IMG_2433.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqYEUCymXG3UngO08fIKL0MlDBZYDhfC6jP3_VUit036dX5pioVpfeGjGe4FhQoRGjLJDoglVFiByhHrCRaBXhG5rGm6eHM5cQOWIP9oPY_RWzn0kiqReK3nISxiXsUsXIZBPYJdu6dw/s400/IMG_2433.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679147297512147458" border="0" /></a><br />As I was taking the cute apple picture featured in the previous photo collage, I found it ironic that I was holding the apple up over a sink full of dirty dishes. We can make ourselves look pretty darn awesome as long as we point the camera the right direction, amen?<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. Big Wednesday<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ASve2DORxZyKGcsgKX0tLdROnfI8y6tjR5cO-gqiLhg0SJSnpKPT9szHnSVgct1vTsPJkFOGyPaK9s9BKwBg_LHGbHsKYKDadE8abzmSUr5cV1NSa0FX6OQ99C2iddtdjubhXLXX4oI/s1600/2011-11-23.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ASve2DORxZyKGcsgKX0tLdROnfI8y6tjR5cO-gqiLhg0SJSnpKPT9szHnSVgct1vTsPJkFOGyPaK9s9BKwBg_LHGbHsKYKDadE8abzmSUr5cV1NSa0FX6OQ99C2iddtdjubhXLXX4oI/s400/2011-11-23.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679151968057798290" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><span>Out of the house by 8:15, to Staples to drop off the placemats for laminating, QFC for</span><span> preschool party items (OK, and S.tarbucks), drop kids at school, teach Mommy & Me class, leave class early to go to Thanksgiving celebrations in 2 different classrooms, quick stop at a friend's house to drop off a Thanksgiving meal voucher on the way to the dentist for teeth cleanings for D & Z, back to Staples to pick up the placemats (they turned out cute!), home for lunch & naps, off to a pre-Thanksgiving take-out dinner party, and finally to church for a beautiful Thanksgiving Eve service... with 3 squirmy tired boys, no childcare, and J playing drums most of the service. Thankful, exhausted, and ready for a frosty beverage. <span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />5. Sunrise on the stemware.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAWJm7EYt2UKQhQ_lGT0LGBZNHksvcB5jPT7f50ouduhpRPtSHQYdXcsSmI10PpynlrqG0eytH6RzwGueBzWu0p-0UELwi7k2VOUh3gEBf6KT3GzU_OarSYaqv7JdOkPcG9q_FIVSfh0/s1600/IMG_5446-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAWJm7EYt2UKQhQ_lGT0LGBZNHksvcB5jPT7f50ouduhpRPtSHQYdXcsSmI10PpynlrqG0eytH6RzwGueBzWu0p-0UELwi7k2VOUh3gEBf6KT3GzU_OarSYaqv7JdOkPcG9q_FIVSfh0/s400/IMG_5446-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679147292740027522" border="0" /></a><br />I woke up Thursday morning to a very grumpy toddler, and an absolutely amazing sunrise.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4. Tables.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmBiQoCflFpyGhMVSfL_-LArb-OBiV2W08wVZhkZyPSY_v_0sor0n_f6XevdG0ueJqihH0g9631DgYEEst4IaU86wUPLP2Y2NEmjs6IhhOUej9XG0aBdB8r4JumdVSHt3dCxNrlRAB-8/s1600/2011_11_24.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmBiQoCflFpyGhMVSfL_-LArb-OBiV2W08wVZhkZyPSY_v_0sor0n_f6XevdG0ueJqihH0g9631DgYEEst4IaU86wUPLP2Y2NEmjs6IhhOUej9XG0aBdB8r4JumdVSHt3dCxNrlRAB-8/s400/2011_11_24.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679146369502950098" border="0" /></a><br />We had 9 adults and 6 kids - the perfect size for my first time hosting a Thanksgiving dinner.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />6. Thankful feasting.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxJJN04yZaB3O7ImbANVj8DsPWjJbGNw-LsiO37EUaMGB_Keutee1AxlmF3VfQ0-gSrehdATnPzGygrJvKEGRKrkzZzJIZrQilBkVGcwxSCIWI8hcOvo3DqLaizuXAaycx8mWbsfJzVg/s1600/2011_11_242.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxJJN04yZaB3O7ImbANVj8DsPWjJbGNw-LsiO37EUaMGB_Keutee1AxlmF3VfQ0-gSrehdATnPzGygrJvKEGRKrkzZzJIZrQilBkVGcwxSCIWI8hcOvo3DqLaizuXAaycx8mWbsfJzVg/s400/2011_11_242.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679151966603449522" border="0" /></a><br />It was a lovely evening. I was way less stressed than I thought I'd be. I love the people around my table. I am so, so thankful.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />7. Cabin day trip.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXuLgTAZKpfteTVhv0rXF4EDoLQ_Vk8RxBskhnnMUFyNnkjHDUK5p0qZ7-SenIjU5-A1i1AXEGUQK5uNNJTW63H9p84Fz3mqJ8m6piHmg9k1uQgTIewNCXsCwfTbEHmi-rCsGDOjkDbA/s1600/2011_11_25.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXuLgTAZKpfteTVhv0rXF4EDoLQ_Vk8RxBskhnnMUFyNnkjHDUK5p0qZ7-SenIjU5-A1i1AXEGUQK5uNNJTW63H9p84Fz3mqJ8m6piHmg9k1uQgTIewNCXsCwfTbEHmi-rCsGDOjkDbA/s400/2011_11_25.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679146381320930546" border="0" /></a><br />This morning we found ourselves looking at an empty calendar and a promising weather forecast, so we headed to my parent's cabin on Vashon Island. It was gorgeous, chilly, quiet, and just what we all needed. Still so very thankful.<br /><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/"><img style="text-align: center;" title="7 Quick Takes" src="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg" alt="7 quick takes sm1 Your 7 Quick Takes Toolkit!" width="290" height="195" /></a></p>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-504203936610062223.post-70263997669848257262011-11-19T09:32:00.000-08:002011-11-19T09:53:01.255-08:007 slow takes[I'm a day late for the <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/2011/11/7-quick-takes-friday-vol-152.html">link-up</a> but I thought I'd post anyway]<br /><div><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. </span>If I could only listen to one band for the rest of my life, I think it might be <a href="http://www.thecivilwars.com/">The Civil Wars</a>. Their style, their song writing, their insane talent, their chemistry - I love it all, and we got to see it live in concert at the Neptune Theatre on Monday. I am so glad we got to go, not only because it was amazing beyond words, but also -<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmIWMOVVbjEZ1fJzmQ4GYR65ED6lwd0oOMb7XFhjFNP5SKG2jY3DXEj8t2v-NpyaOnIdtnGawR36iMXRZB7PaH2CEI78Fof1q_zO-vrhacKs2c6ZOTsEdG7daWAGaHr4XCoAxjCtDaY4/s1600/the+civil+wars.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 578px; height: 351px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmIWMOVVbjEZ1fJzmQ4GYR65ED6lwd0oOMb7XFhjFNP5SKG2jY3DXEj8t2v-NpyaOnIdtnGawR36iMXRZB7PaH2CEI78Fof1q_zO-vrhacKs2c6ZOTsEdG7daWAGaHr4XCoAxjCtDaY4/s1600/the+civil+wars.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="font-weight: bold;">2.</span> because our tickets spent 4 days in the recycling bin and would have been gone forever if it hadn't happened to be an 'off' week for recycle pick-up! I ordered them a few months ago and they came in the mail in a plain white envelope. We opened them and set them aside, but they somehow drifted into a pile of junk mail and <strike>my husband</strike> someone threw them out. A few days later I went to put them in a safe place, but couldn't find them anywhere, so (after I did some deep breathing and relaxation techniques to prevent a panic attack) we started looking through the kitchen recycling. We didn't find them. (More panic attacks.) Then J realized the recycling hadn't gone out this week and there were a few bags in the bin outside.We must have looked like lunatics out in our driveway frantically tearing open our own recycling... but we found them! Crisis averted.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="font-weight: bold;">3.</span> In "This Never Ever Happens" news, I actually went to <em>two</em> concerts this week. <a href="http://www.audreyassad.com/">Audrey Assad</a> played a surprise impromptu show at the Fremont Abbey on Thursday night for a handful of her Twitter followers (see? Twitter is good for something!). She played a bunch of songs that will be coming out on her new record in February and they were so good I'm not sure how I'll wait that long to hear them again.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xgWYC1u2fdWSZKAzZ8bggGFhx25dfIuWQLQYLkrHY3o3h6wmwvj-1BI1p2hIaB9UG18qSuKu0NX7h9zDqnB2b0SvCkce39XvNsN8vWyg3JG0O8oRGM3F-r2oFOO6nA01IZa2TZu5_is/s1600/IMG_2425.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xgWYC1u2fdWSZKAzZ8bggGFhx25dfIuWQLQYLkrHY3o3h6wmwvj-1BI1p2hIaB9UG18qSuKu0NX7h9zDqnB2b0SvCkce39XvNsN8vWyg3JG0O8oRGM3F-r2oFOO6nA01IZa2TZu5_is/s400/IMG_2425.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676764549445206498" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">bad cell phone picture of me & Audrey Assad</span><br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="font-weight: bold;">4. </span>While we're on the topic of music, my kids are obsessed with the new album from <a href="http://www.slugsandbugs.com/">Slugs & Bugs</a>, <em>Under Where?</em> I want to to do a full review of the album on this blog soon, especially because one of the songs is about adoption, so I won't go into too much detail now. I will say it is one of only a very few kids' albums that I can not only tolerate but actually enjoy. More on that soon...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.slugsandbugs.com/media/photos/f28373d9-7edf-1464-09c3-801705626c9a.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://www.slugsandbugs.com/media/photos/f28373d9-7edf-1464-09c3-801705626c9a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="font-weight: bold;">5.</span> Last night and this morning we have been watching a video of Z from May 2010 - the first video we ever saw of him, taken the same week we signed his referral. It is fascinating to watch Z watch himself - he is mesmerized by it. I also can't believe how much of his personality was captured by these 90 seconds of video: it is so <em>him.<br /><br /></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWVrjw1B1GGBEkEabwFSkrp8GAEVYiajM7HDFTtze9ehUpK1jMj5AgyX0g9TG15Lf2eFEN6PIlOPO6_2k8n3FSt4uLyqnTeEyZwlLWIeyXM885tMf4Bi2A7OCJaOOgPuICX9EF3_heaXw/s1600/Eba2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWVrjw1B1GGBEkEabwFSkrp8GAEVYiajM7HDFTtze9ehUpK1jMj5AgyX0g9TG15Lf2eFEN6PIlOPO6_2k8n3FSt4uLyqnTeEyZwlLWIeyXM885tMf4Bi2A7OCJaOOgPuICX9EF3_heaXw/s400/Eba2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676765161425766738" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">this photo was taken the same day as the video we've been watching</span><br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="font-weight: bold;">6. </span>Yesterday we went to the doctor because D had been sick for a few days (he seems much better today, thank goodness), and on the way home I treated the boys to a little S.tarbucks date. I think Z liked his "buna" (Amharic for 'coffee', one of the only Amharic words he still says)...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOqLbwKjve3tIq5nD7uXRF2zz4CF30mJAW92diAi6TPLTxOvndX7KJ68Z8i6dotnQhdlKB9U1r5AzGVzlp8XwR-Ctyg71jf4mrN-8V6TDncWhg2XLqWAW6CkEfelg2ONOLhi92Vhaa4Q/s1600/2011-11-18.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOqLbwKjve3tIq5nD7uXRF2zz4CF30mJAW92diAi6TPLTxOvndX7KJ68Z8i6dotnQhdlKB9U1r5AzGVzlp8XwR-Ctyg71jf4mrN-8V6TDncWhg2XLqWAW6CkEfelg2ONOLhi92Vhaa4Q/s400/2011-11-18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676764033503896082" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="font-weight: bold;">7. </span>We're off to my parents house now for Thanksgiving Dinner, Part One -- two of my siblings can't do dinner on Thursday, so we're starting the holiday early and eating our big turkey dinner together today. On that note, I better go change out of my jammies and make some green bean casserole. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!</div>Haleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16425646410486288854noreply@blogger.com1