Easter Sunday

Timing....Gods timing never ceases to amaze me. I love knowing that he has everything under control.

We met our Sons for the very first time on Easter Sunday 2011. That day will forever be etched into my heart. Three days later we were declared their parents forever and ever. Eight weeks later we were home.

We met our Daughters for the first time on Easter Sunday 2012. This day, too, will forever be etched into my heart. As with the boys, we were declared Mommy and Daddy forever and ever three days later. Four weeks later we were home.

In only the way God can, he was weaving our family together without us ever realizing it. What we didn't knowat the time is we also met our Daughter on Easter Sunday 2011.

Friends and Family, today I rejoice in telling you that we are embarking on our third adoption journey in as many years. We are going to get our Daughter in Ethiopia.

Beautiful "S" came to Sele Enat, the same orphanage our Sons were at, a few months after our Sons arrived there. She was very ill and required medical treatment for some time before she stabilized. We got to know her. We played with her, loved on her, and ultimately fell in love with her.

When we embarked on our second adoption we inquired about "S" and were told she had been matched with a family. We were so happy for her, but sad for us, as we had fallen in love. But as is Gods will we were meant to find our beautiful girls, and they were meant to come home with us at that time.

When we returned to Ethiopia in April 2012 for the girls we brought Oz and Ahbie with us. One of our first stops was to return to Sele Enat. As we were visiting with the children, many familiar faces were still there from our prior years trip, there she was. Imagine our surprise in seeing her, as we had been told she had a family and we assumed she would have been gone. We quickly found out she did not have a family when, as I was standing there, she came up to me, tapped me on the arm and asked me if we had come for her, were we her family?
 I have had many a heartbreaking moments, but none quite so deep as this.

It took Jimmy and I only moments after we left to know, without a doubt we were coming back for her, no matter what it took.

After we had been home for several months and felt the transition for everyone was going well we reached out to our agency to see if they could reach out to the agency she was with and have her placed under their care. We were delighted to know we had their support, as our situation is not the most ideal to most looking from the outside in. To clarify, we have adopted four older children in less than two years and were now looking to bring in a fifth older child. Despite this they supported us and promised to follow up.

It took almost one month for the agencies to coordinate and for our daughter to be placed under their care, so that we could move forward.

Sadly, the day after we were told of this wonderful news we lost our home to the explosion. One of the first things I said to Jimmy when he arrived at the hospital was "what about "S"? and he assured me that there was no way in this world we were leaving her there and we would find a way to bring her home.

As we are set to close on our new home within a couple of weeks I have started the whole paper chase process all over again. We have to update our home study, new dossier, all new documents, fingerprints, and on and on and on.......

But in a strange twist of fate we are on the same timeline as we were with our boys and our girls, and I wont be the least bit surprised if come Easter Sunday we are in Ethiopia embracing forever our beautiful Daughter.

Thanks be to God....Amen Amen and Amen

The Other Side of Receiving

Oh man, it's her, the one who knows all about what happened with the house. She lives in the neighborhood and know all about the fundraising the HOA did for us.

Ugh, she is the only one here. Deep breath, smile, be kind.

Oh what I would give for anonymity again.

I pushed my cart up to her register. I had come here to get some storage bins, and misc. items we needed.

I smile....Hello again, how are you tonight?....She really is very nice and asks how everyone is doing....Fine, thank you for asking....

She is scanning the items, one by one....asking questions...going slowly...A line starts to form behind me...

I can feel my mind start to slip a little. I t is almost time to pay and I feel a wave of shame wash over me. I try to talk myself into an OK place but I can't, instead I want to run from here and leave everything behind. I fight back tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We have been blessed by such an outpouring of support. We have been on the receiving end of donations in the form of clothing, money, gift cards, offers of child care, etc. The generosity of others had no limits.

We are so grateful to everyone, truly we are.

I have discovered though, that this is a double edged sword. Perhaps I need not to be so proud, or perhaps I must practice walking in grace a little bit more.

As I stood in that line I had been prepared to pay with the gift cards we had been given. But as I saw the lady at checkout, and then the line started to form behind me, I suddenly felt so inadequate. Thoughts were running through my head which said "you can't provide for your own family, these people may have been the ones who donated these gift cards, which means they are providing for your family"

I couldn't shake this shame. Even if it was completely unfounded and rooted in nothing more than my insecurities.

Standing there I weighed my options...Pay with the gift cards like any normal person would, and be grateful you have them. Or write a check, and try to explain to Jimmy that you had a checkout meltdown and couldn't use the gift cards...In the end I could not use the gift cards.

Paying for those items made me feel good. It made me feel like I am not at the mercy of everyone else, that I can most certainly provide for my family.

I got home and gave Jimmy the gift cards. I told him I can't do it anymore. He was so understanding, which is hard when you are talking to crazy, and he reassured me and told me I don't have to do it anymore.

This has been such a learning experience for me. Never in a million years would I have thought there were so many lessons to be learned. I am becoming a different person, stronger, wiser, more humble, and it feels really good, even though it feels really bad.

Thank you God for generous friends, family and strangers, and for Husbands who know just how to make crazy wives feel better.

Project Hopeful

We are so blessed to have the opportunity to sponsor these sweet souls in Ethiopia through an amazing charity called Project Hopeful.

To learn all about Project Hopeful visit their website at http://www.projecthopeful.org/about

If you are interested in seeing the children waiting for sponsors please let me know by leaving a comment in the comments section below.

We opted to let each child in the family pick who they wanted to sponsor, and Jimmy and I picked one for the two of us. Whether you sponsor 6 or 1 or 20, just becoming involved is so very important.

And now I would love to introduce you to our six little angels.


**This is Hate (Ha-Tay) Jimmy and I are sponsoring this beautiful boy**

**This is Mihiret and Ryan is sponsoring her. She is in 4th grade**

 **This is Dawit and Oz is sponsoring him. He is in 4th grade**

**This is Abriham and Ahbie is sponsoring him. He is in 4th grade**

**This is Medeihanet and Chuna is sponsoring her. She is in 12th grade**

**This is Adanechi and Elen is sponsoring her. She is in 9th grade.**

Onward and Upward

Living in anger and victim mode is not my style. It's exhausting really, and I always feel like I want to take a shower to wash off the effects of being in what I consider a dark place.

I don't enjoy life when my outlook is doom and gloom, and understandably so I suppose. But alas I am human and from time to time my mind slips into that mode and although I can recognize it is not my natural state of being, I have no choice but to ride it out.

Happily, the cycle is over and I feel better than ever. Thank you God and to all of my family and friends who were so very kind in reaching out with words of encouragement and love.

I went shopping yesterday for Christmas decorations. It was so much fun. As the theme I had created in my mind started coming to life I could hardly contain my excitement. I'm not sure which was more therapeutic, seeing all of the beautiful items, or spending a ridiculous amount of money. Retail therapy is wonderful that way.

And the best part was that I could justify the expense, thereby making it a guilt free shopping spree!!!!

I have some new ideas for Christmas gifts and am actually looking forward to shopping, wrapping, and giving on Christmas day.

Today life is so good, well everyday life is so good but today I have the presence of mind to know this to be true.

Loving that God is patient with me and gently walks me through the highs and the lows.

Happy Thanksgiving?

Forgive me if I come across ungrateful. I'm not an ungrateful person by nature, but I am a person and I simply can't be grateful every second of every day.

Today, this day when we are all supposed to "give thanks" I am angry and don't have it in me to do the politically correct thing.

Maybe it's the rebel in me that says I will give thanks when I am thankful, not because I am told to. Or maybe it's because I can't seem to encounter anything without being reminded of all that has been lost.

Whatever it is I'm not in a particularly thankful mood today.

But Lisa you have so much to be thankful for.

Um, you think I don't know that? Hmm? I do, trust me, I know. Thanks for the reminder, and for unintentionally making me feel like I am a selfish person because what I have to be thankful for isn't enough to keep at bay my grief for all I do not have.

Would we say to a quadruple amputee to be thankful, at least they have their head? Arms, legs who needs them, you can replace them with protesthics, so buck up Mr/Mrs Ungrateful, after all at least you are still breathing.

It's ridiculous to think that somehow that is an appropriate thing to say.

The  material items I lost were not just "things" they were a part of me. Every item I grieve for had a story and a history behind it. It was infused with memories and feelings. They were special for a million different reasons.

Only I know the love story behind the pile of rocks my niece drew faces on several years ago when once she was a more integral part of my life. Or the "jewels" she gave me which were placed front and center in the curio cabinet which happened to also hold our beloved Brooklyns ashes, which are also gone forever.

To some people these are only things. And on days when I have to completely disconnect feelings from thoughts, I can categorize them also as "things" but they weren't just things. They were bits and pieces of my life and collectively, along with my Husband and Children, all of these pieces made me who I am, and they made up my life. Someone made the comment that it's kind of cool because I get to have a "do-over" I get to start fresh. I didn't want a do-over though, I was happy and content. And the double edged sword now is that when I see in stores what I had before, things which I loved, I don't want them because they remind me of what happened, but I also don't want anything else, because what I had is what I liked and what I wanted. So walking into a store and trying to replace things only brings on tremendous anxiety and ultimately I walk away with nothing.
It is so frustrating.

But things aside, I have also lost the security of feeling safe, anywhere. For me I contend with thoughts at any given moment that my house will explode, or if I am driving, that an Elk will run out from nowhere and destroy my car, or I will be lotioning my leg and feel this strange bump and all of a sudden I have a tumor. Nothing is gradual anymore, there is no buildup it just goes from good to nightmare in a split second. I'm angry about this, I want my security back, I want peace in my mind and in my heart.

I can look at each of those examples and say to myself that while my house did blow up we all survived, sure an elk ran out in front of our car, in the middle of the night, totaling it, on the way home from Disneyland, but we all walked away from it, and yes I had a tumor in my leg, and now a 5 inch scar from surgery to remind me of it, but it was benign...So be happy! Be thankful! Stop whining!

But it isn't that easy. All of these things were beyond my control, they were thrust on me, so no matter how carefully I drive, closely I inspect my body, or walk through the house to make sure it is safe, anything can happen at any time, no matter how often I do these things.
There is no security and I am furious about this.

I hesitate to post this because of the way it may sound. But it is where I am today and my hope is that when I write a post next Thanksgiving it will be the complete opposite of this, and I can look back at this day and say "I am so thankful for how far I have come"

Fake Family

One hour in and the bathroom floor has become unbearable. It's cold, hard, and nothing about it feels like this is where I can make my baby girl feel better as she spirals ever deeper into a meltdown triggered by something unknown.

She is crying. She is angry. She is confused. She is helpless. She is wounded, deeply. She can't stop.

"You guys don't love me"
"I want a different family"
"You are not my family, you are a fake family"
"You are a fake mommy, he is a fake daddy, I have fake brothers and fake sisters"
"You don't want me you only want them"
"You don't like me anymore"
"I don't want to be here anymore"
"You are not my mom"
"He is not my dad"

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Man it's hard to hear that. So hard in fact that for a few days after I feel bruised, as if I have been physically assaulted.

I have long since known that this is but one piece, an expected piece, of parenting a child whom you embrace and call your own when they are older in age. Knowing it and experiencing it however are two very different experiences.

As she spirals, I remove myself emotionally from reacting to her statements. I know she comes from a place of grief, anger, confusion, and profound loss. My responsibility as her now Mommy is only to remind her, ever so gently, that she is so loved, so special, so adored. And to not dismiss what she is saying. To acknowledge her anger, to empathize, and to let her know that what she is feeling is normal and it is OK.

The truth is I understand why she says we are a fake family for her. She knows who her family is, and they are in Gambella Ethiopia. This family, here in America, is not what she ever asked for, or wanted.

But, here she is, through life's circumstances, in this family that, through her eyes, was forced on her.

That we love her beyond comprehension does not negate her feelings of wanting "her" family. As well it shouldn't. If I woke up tomorrow and my family was gone, and another family in it's place I would be furious. I wouldn't care how nice they were, how much they loved me, or how much they included me. In fact that would probably make me even more angry because all I would want is my family back and the better to me they are the more it reminds me of the family I have lost.

So many emotions. Big scary emotions for such a tiny little baby.

For me one of the most beautiful things about older child adoption is the process of nurturing relationships to create a family. While legally you are recognized as a "Family" as "Mommy" and "Daddy" the truth is those words ring hollow until you have nurtured and built those relationships. They don't just happen, you have to make them happen, you have to put in hours and hours of hard-hard work.

Just as a marriage doesn't sustain itself simply because you have a marriage certificate, building a family doesn't happen simply because a document says it is so. 

Building trust with children who have experienced the most severe breaches of trust is a long hard road, but if navigated carefully, nets the most beautiful results. I know this because I see it, every.single.day.

I see it when my baby girl only 24 hours earlier insisted we were not her family, and now she runs out the door squealing with delight "Daddy!!! Daddy!!!!" as Daddy pulls up from a long day at work. I see it when I am handed a picture only hours after being told I am not her Mom, telling me "I love you Mom"...I see it when my wounded baby wraps her arms around my neck and tells me "I feel better now, thank you for making me feel better Mommy"

These are the moments that I cherish and that give me the wear-with-all to do everything I can to see my babies through. Their love is so precious, their trust priceless, and their happiness soothes my soul. To see them make such strides and to work through all they are confronted with makes me so very very proud to call them my children.

You see, they don't love me simply because I bear the title of Mommy, they choose to bless me abundantly with their love, despite their fears, while graciously accepting my love for them.

Oh how I love my tiny treasures...

Know that Beauty is Everywhere

Ugh....What do you so when you have lost so much? There are the replaceable items; curling irons, socks, make-up, even cars. But what about those irreplaceable items? We have lost so many things that will never be replaced and sometimes that thought is enough to bring me to my knees.

Gone are my Gracie and Emily. These two pups drove me nuts but they were my crazy dogs and I miss them so much.

Baby pictures of Donovan, Kennedy and Ryan. With the exception of a few recovered they are all gone.

Christmas ornaments made by my babies going back 22 years...Gone. You can't replace those things.

Pictures and video of Oz and Ahbie with their family in Ethiopia. Gone.........

Pictures and video of Chuna and Elen with their Father in Ethiopia. We had recorded him talking to the girls, speaking words of encouragement and love to them. Gone..........

All of the pictures and video of our time in Ethiopia with the girls.Gone........

I had taken canvases and paints to Ethiopia when we got the girls. We knew we were going to see Oz and Ahbies family when we were there and so I wanted to bring a little piece of them home with us for the boys. I painted the hands of their Father and three Brothers and made hand prints on the canvases. Then I had each of them write their names on them. Likewise I did the same with the boys to give to their Father. These are gone...They are gone.....You can't replace hand prints made on that day, in that moment of life. Gone.......

*By Gods grace Chuna and Elens Fathers hand print was recovered. How some things made it and others didn't stuns me.

The honey bowl, hand carved by the boys Great grandfather. Passed down from generation to generation and gifted to us for the boys.Gone....

The video of Jimmy proposing to me. Gone......

Wedding day pictures. Gone......

Kennedy's graduation cap and gown. Gone....

Pottery we painted in Mexico. Gone....

A few years ago I started asking for letters instead of gifts from the kids for my birthday, Mothers day etc...These were all so special, and there was never a shortage of creativity. They were laced with words of love and special feelings often left unspoken by teenagers. Gone.....

As I work through this process of rebuilding my life I am reminded daily of not only the losses but also the incredible blessings which surround me every minute of every day. It is a such a fluid experience with feelings of deep pain mixed with gratitude every waking second of every day.

It is a very strange thing for me, not being able to escape for even a bit. Everywhere you turn there are reminders.

I have accepted the fact that only time will heal, and there are some things that will always be painful no matter how much time has passed. Such is life. If I am going to remain positive then I have to embrace the good and the bad because they go hand in hand and are beautiful in their own right.

How blessed I am to have had special Christmas ornaments from my children. How blessed I am to have sweet memories of the love my puppies demonstrated. How blessed I am to have read the loving words written by my children. My heart will always remember them. How blessed I am that we will no doubt visit Ethiopia again, and I will have paint and canvas' in hand.

At a time, when to the outside world it appears as if I have nothing, my life is actually remarkably full.

God is brilliant that way....


**I see these items which were salvaged and am reminded of how blessed I am. A hand made Christmas card from the kids. The journal I took with me to Ethiopia. A special gift from Ethiopia. My Husband....Life really is so very good**

Home Sweet Home

The inspection went great at the new house. Aside from something really crazy happening (like the house blowing up :) ...Come on now, that was funny) we will soon call this place home. We are anticipating a closing date sometime in early January but have our fingers crossed that it happens sooner.

All I can say is when you take a family of our size from a 5000 square ft home, and put them in an 1800 sq ft home, every second of every day feels like we live in a madhouse.

But I shall remain positive because it is only temporary, and we have a beautiful home waiting for us right around the corner....Patience is a virtue right?

I was going to hold off on posting pictures of the inside of the house for the privacy of the current owners, then I realized that they had already posted pics of the interior on the internet when they were selling it.

So I am happily moving forward with a clear concience and would like to present our soon to be new home.

The details:
*Our home is 6272 sq ft.
*Right now it has 4 bedrooms and 3.5 bathrooms
*We are finishing the basement which is 2300 sq ft. We will put in 3 bedrooms, a full bathroom, and a great room. The remainder will be a large unfinished storage room.
*It has a main floor master with a fireplace which can be enjoyed from the bedroom or while soaking in the tub. It also has a HUGE walk-in closet.
*There are two laundry rooms. One on the main level and a second one on the second level.
*There is a loft, and three bedrooms upstairs. One bedroom has it's own bathroom while the other two share a jack and jill bathroom.
*The backyard is good size. It backs up to open space. It has a separate area for a garden which thrills me to no end. And there is a hot tub which thrills the kids to no end.
*It is located on a cul-de-sac and is a two minute walk to the park.

And now for the photos which I present to you compliments of Ellie Bellie who is my budding photographer.

*The Front*

*The Study*

 

*Main floor powder room*

*Kitchen*

*Family Room*

*I love these windows in the Family Room*

*Master Bedroom*

*Double Sided Fireplace*

*Fire Place by the soaking tub*

*Laundry Room...There is no shortage of space or storage...THANK YOU GOD*

*Loft/View from Family Room*

*View from Family Room*

*More of the kitchen*

*Dining Room*

*Back Yard*

*Gate to my garden*

*Back of our home*

The Day My House Exploded

Musical beds, this is the name Jimmy and I came up with after the girls came home. This was the only way to explain the phenomenon that happened in our home each and every night.

Let me explain with this real life example.

At bedtime all of the kids were in their respective beds and we were in ours. When we woke up the next morning, all four children were in our bed, I was in Ahbies bed and Jimmy was in Ozs bed. This is musical beds.

It drove me nuts after a few months because I was forever sleep deprived. As I would find myself in the middle of the night trekking from one bed to another, mumbling not so pleasant expletives, there was nothing I wanted more than for everyone to please – for the love of all things Holy - just stay in their beds.

What I didn’t know during those late night treks was that instead of cursing this game of musical beds I should have been thanking God for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 11 was a Thursday and Jimmy was working late, he wasn’t going to be home until after bedtime. The girls went to sleep in their beds and Ahbie and Oz were in mine waiting for Daddy. When Jimmy got home Ahbie had fallen asleep and Oz asked to stay in our bed for the night. I conceded to another night in a bed other than mine and went to Ozs bed. We were now in three different rooms, girls in theirs, Jimmy, Oz and Ahbie in mine, and I was in Ozs. Sometime in the middle of the night the girls made their way into Ozs bed with me.

Now we had funneled from three rooms to only two. The girls and I in Ozs room, and Jimmy and the boys in mine.

On Friday October 12 at 5:30am after Jimmy had left for work Oz came into his room and woke me up, he’d had a bad dream and was afraid. I took him back to my room and we snuggled while he told me about his dream.

 At 6:00am Oz asked me when the sun would be up, I told him another hour or so. Ahbie woke up and they asked me if they could watch TV, they couldn’t go back to sleep. They turned on the TV, keeping it low as I’d requested and I rolled over and went back to sleep.

At 7:00am Ozs alarm clock went off waking Chuna and Elen. They couldn’t figure out how to turn it off and they came into my room. We were now all in my bed, the kids were watching TV and I was sleeping. Oz has only used his alarm clock a handful of times. That it was on at all, and went off in time to wake the girls only minutes before 7:15am is but one more miracle in this story filled with one after another.

We were now all in one room together.

At approximately 7:15am I was awakened by two things simultaneously. Something hit my face – hard - and there was a loud THWACK. In that split second I thought one of the kids had fallen on me or broke something and that was the noise and pain I felt. Before I could have another thought I was falling, still on the bed, but falling. There was a roaring that was deafening and terrifying, it was so very loud. I was looking up and for a second I saw blue sky.

I thought, in this order, three things; 1. This is the end of the world (yes I was serious). 2. An airplane has hit our house. 3. Oh My God it’s a Tornado!!

And then I was still, the falling had stopped, the roaring ended, and I was terrified and confused. My mind was spinning and I couldn’t think or speak. I saw Oz, and he crawled over to me, and then Ahbie. For some reason I remember looking down at him and bringing him up to me. We crawled to the window. I had to get them out of the house as quickly as I could. I remember saying “oh my God what happened” again and again, I may even have been screaming it, I don’t know.

Then I saw the house next to us and it was standing. That’s odd, why is their house still standing, what happened? And then my mind shouted Elen, where is Elen! I turned around to get her and didn’t see her. What I did see for the first time was a mass of debris, a wall of destruction that I knew I could not move. I wanted to throw up.  “Oh please God don’t let her be under there”. A wave of panic rolls over me, and then my mind screams “oh my God where is Chuna!!! Oh My God I can’t move this stuff, where are my babies??!!!!

I look up and miraculously there was Elen standing on top of a pile of something. As I found out later from her, she had been stuck under the bed, but heard me and managed to crawl out. I reached up to her pulling her close, “Come here baby, come to Mommy” she wrapped her arms around my neck and legs around my waist and we inched our way back to the window. It dawned on me then that I couldn’t stand, that I was literally in nothing more than a small pocket of space. Above me, below me, on all sides were pieces of my home, except for this one small area. I put my head out the window and did the only thing I could think of doing, I screamed and screamed at the top of my lungs “HELP US!!! HELP US!!!! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP US!!!!!!”  Oz crawled beside me and started screaming too, HELP!! HELP!!

I heard Chuna just then, screaming in the most panicked voice I have ever heard “MOOOOOM! MOOOOOOM!” I was so confused, why is her voice coming from outside? I leaned further out the window and looked up. My God she is on the roof!! The roof is now almost on the ground. How did she get on the roof? Why is the roof on the ground? Why are we here? “WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!!!”

I call her to me, and she sits on her bottom and scoots down the incline of the roof. I see to my right our neighbor as he looks over our fence. But wait, that is our fence right? What is this mess? What happened? Oh my God my face really hurts. All of this happens in seconds. The boys and Elen are climbing out the window to arms of neighbors who have rushed to our aid. I climb out the window to Chuna. They take each of my babies, carrying them to safety. I try to walk. I can’t move. My body will not move. I am confused, my mind is swirling with the same thoughts, are the kids still in the house? Where are my babies? Oh wait they are OK. They are out. Quick get out of here. Wait, where are my babies? Are they still in the house? No they are out, they are OK.  

Oh My God where is Ryan? Was he home last night? No he stayed at Mikeys. But did he come home and I didn’t know it? He would be in the basement! OH MY GOD HE WOULD BE IN THE BASEMENT!!!! Please God let him be at Mikeys, please, please God let him be OK.

I can’t stand, but I want to walk out of here. My body does not cooperate and all I can do is huddle down and freeze. I see a fireman, he tells me not to move. There are nails everywhere, there is glass everywhere. He makes his way to me and I look at him and think “Why are you here, what is going on?” I try to walk and he tells me no, then he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. This terrifies me, I scream, I am certain he will fall with me over his shoulder as he tries to navigate this disaster. I look around and see our deck in the neighbors’ back yard. What?! That’s our deck, but it’s in their backyard. The fence is gone, why is the fence gone? How are all of these houses standing, wasn’t there a tornado? An Airplane? Was this only my house? Oh my God what happened?

Sasha!!! Oh my God there is Sasha running through the back yard. I yell to the fireman, its Sasha, that’s my dog, please get Sasha. Wait….WHAT ABOUT EMILY AND GRACIE? They were sleeping in the kitchen. Oh no, please no. And our cats, where is Shadow? Where is Max? Where is Reggie? Oh no God please no. And where are my babies? Oh that’s right they are out and they are safe. But Ryan!! Where is Ryan?? Oh God please let him be at Mikeys.

The fireman carries me to the driveway of the neighbors behind and to the right of us. He sets me down. They bring me a blanket. I have to get to my babies, please let me go to them. He will not let me go. He tells me to stay there, that they are bringing a gurney for me. No, I’m ok, please let me go to my babies. What happened? I need my Husband, please can I call him. Please I need to talk to him. The fireman calls Jimmy, but I don’t get to talk, he hangs up before I can talk to him. I cry, I needed to talk to him, I need him here right now…I cry and I can’t seem to stop.

There are people everywhere, and they are all in shock. I try to hide in a corner, I don’t want to be seen. Please don’t look at me, I think in my mind, but can’t speak.

Then the gurney is here. I climb on. My face hurts. My elbow hurts, it is bleeding. There is glass in my elbow. What happened? What hit my face?

I get to go to my babies. I put my head in my hands and I pray. I pray and I pray and I pray. Please God help me, Please God help me, Please God help me, Oh my God please help me. This is all I can pray, all I can think.

We round the corner and I see my neighbors. Are my babies ok? I ask. They say they are but I don’t believe them. I am wheeled right to the ambulance, “WAIT” I scream “I NEED TO SEE MY BABIES” but they put me in anyway and I am in a panic. Why won’t they let me see my babies? I cry…I am terrified…I am strapped down…I pray….

A fireman comes to me and assures me they are OK. He tells me that we are all being transported to the hospital and that we will be reunited there. He wants me to calm down.

My mind continues to replay the sounds, the THWACK, that ROARING, the feelings of falling, of being met with all of that debris surrounding me.  What happened??!!

I ask the paramedic if I can please call my Husband. He dials the number and then I hear his voice, my Husband, I need you here with me. He tells me he will meet me at the hospital. I tell him our home is gone. Please call Ryan, make sure he is at Mikeys. He tells me he has already confirmed Ryan is OK. THANK YOU GOD MY SON IS OK.

We hang up, and I am quiet. I am shrinking into myself, and I am suffocating in this bizarre reality that surrounds me. I think to myself, this has to be a dream? No, this is not a dream. You are in this ambulance, this is real. I want to shrink further and further away. I want to wake up.

The media is here, I hear someone say. Oh no, the news? Why are they here? What happened? Is this really news worthy? Will someone please tell me what happened?

Wait, I do not want them here, this is my life, my family, my devastation, and now it is being broadcast for the world to see?!?!?!

A new wave of despair rolls over me as I realize my life is no longer mine, my privacy has been taken from me, my children will never trust me to keep them safe, life as I have known it is gone.

Oh God please give me the strength to deal with this with some measure of grace and dignity because I have been stripped of all control and I am in a free fall.

Please God help me.



****This was our home****

  *The view from our neighbors home behind us*   

                                         
 *The window we crawled out of*

                                        
*The Basement*

                                         
  *View from neighbors house to the left*

                                         

*Another view from the neighbors house on the left*

                                         
  *The outfit Ahbie wore to Embassy*

                                         
 *Pictures Ahbie colored still hanging*

 *Master bedroom closet. Granite counter top from the kitchen protruding from the closet door*

  *Part of the Basement. We had a finished basement now it is nothing but concrete*

Treasure Hunt

I was quite certain I did not want the kids to go back to the site of our once beautiful home. There was no way their minds could comprehend what they were seeing, and it would only serve to magnify their fears. As a Mommy one of my responsibilities is to protect my little loves, and by God I was not going to let any more harm come to them, especially if I had control over the outcome. No, they were never ever going back there and if you challenge me on it, well, let’s just say, you don’t want to do that because this Momma bear is on steroids and I feel sorry for the person who dares to step in that direction.

Jimmy and I met with a therapist who deals with trauma. We wanted to make sure that as adults we were dealing with this in a healthy way; and that we weren’t taking a detour into crazy town. Let me give a shout out to the man upstairs who blessed us both with a pretty solid set of coping skills…~ HOLLA~

And then Jimmy brought up the kids, and taking them back to the site. Clever move on his part to bring it up while in the presence of; A. Another person and B. a professional who has much more insight into this type of thing then I do. And so that Husband of mine, brave man that he is, explained his position, not wavering despite my eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. It was therapeutic for us to go back, he said. He pointed out how once we got past the initial shock of what we were looking at it was actually, dare I say, fun to find little treasures buried within the debris. Since the kids had been asking to go back, he felt they would benefit in the same positive way.

The therapist concurred, and said that just as adults need closure children do too. He recommended we let them go back but to make it a positive thing, focusing on things that they recovered versus all that was lost. He said to make it a bit like an Easter egg hunt, where we plant items that are theirs for them to find. He said not to stay to long, and following the treasure hunt go and do something fun so that the experience is wrapped up in good memories.

 And so I conceded, and with reassurance from our therapist I was actually excited.

That night we snuck into the garage and found several items that belonged to each of the kids. Jimmy took them to the site and put them in easy to find areas. He kept them in an area which was safe for the kids to walk around in without fear of nails, glass and other dangerous debris.

The next day we loaded up and headed over. The entire drive over they were so excited they could hardly sit still. Once we pulled up their excitement only grew. They wanted their things. We approached the site, which is fenced off, and waited while Jimmy opened it. And then it was on. They found backpacks, books, hot wheels, clothes, and some other random items. Their joy was indescribable. Ahbie found a toy airplane we had given him when in Ethiopia. Oz found his sign he held up at his first ever Nuggets game. Elen found her dog that she used to roll around in her stroller. Chuna found her stuffed bunny, sister to the one recovered earlier and safe at home.

And being the angels that they are they started finding things for Jimmy and I. Ahbie saw Christmas lights and I thought he was going to burst with joy. This was exactly what they needed. There were no tears, they were not afraid, there were only squeals of delight as little treasure after treasure were discovered.

After thirty minutes we decided it was time to go. We picked up the girls’ best friend who lived two doors down from us and had lunch at a favorite restaurant of theirs. We ended the day with a Colorado Rapids game.

It was amazing, and I thank God for bringing people into my life to show me that if I keep my mind open he will work his magic in ways I never could have imagined.

This will be a long road, but one I am looking forward to walking. One foot in front of the other….Baby steps….

Afraid Of The Dark

There are a lot of things that have scared me over the years, but none so much as what happened on October 12, 2012. At some point I will be able to write about the actual event, but right now, just the thought of writing out the words nearly throws me into a panic. I can talk about it, but to write it seems to evoke an entirely different set of emotions, none of which I am prepared to walk through.

Instead,  I will write about one of the interesting shifts in my mind that has occurred.

I am afraid of the dark. I have never been, as a matter of routine, afraid of the dark. Sure, after watching a scary movie I would find myself sprinting up the stairs to avoid the imaginary boogey man lurking behind me. Or I would inch ever closer to the safety of Jimmy’s arms if I woke from a nightmare in the middle of the night. But that is normal, and I never felt like I should feel any other way.

What I am experiencing now is entirely different, and for me, not normal.

I’m not sure what it is about the night that plays such tricks on my mind but I have come to see the setting of the sun as my enemy and a time to dread. I can feel my anxiety kick in, I become irritable, I start doing busy work to occupy my thoughts, and then I get angry that night has to come at all. I don’t like feeling this way and for right now I don’t have a choice. It has become something I have to work through and accept as my new reality for right now. It is as if someone else is controlling my thoughts and emotions, and to a control freak such as me that is the worst possible state of mind.

 It is a strange dynamic I am dealing with now. You see, the girls also are afraid of the dark. So while this means I can keep lights under the guise of doing it to calm their fears, it also means that when I am equally afraid I must not let them know. How can they feel better or safe if they see Mommy is as scared as they are? It’s hard to play dual roles this way, but entirely necessary if I am going to help them heal and feel safe again. It’s a fine line trying to figure out how to navigate through this nightmare. How much is too much when it comes to disclosure to the kids? I want them to know that feeling afraid is perfectly normal and appropriate. So I tell them that I don’t like night time right now either. But I don’t take it much past that because I want them to feel like with me they are safe. What to do, what to do….

I take comfort in knowing that this is only temporary and that one day life will be right side up again. Getting there however, and walking through this experience is enough to drive anyone to the brink of madness. This process can’t be rushed unfortunately, so I will cling to my babies as tightly as they cling to me and together we will ride out this storm.

Here’s to better days ahead, filled with delight and sunshine, and no longer upside down.

I'm Going To Start It

A few weeks ago during our bedtime routine Chuna didn't get something she wanted. As a result she started to make her way down the path of meltdown USA. It had been a long day and I was in no mood for what was about to head our way. I looked at Chuna square in the eyes and said "Chuna, don't start it" and miraculously she stopped, and then had a small hint of a smile which confirmed for me that she was "faking it" for lack of a better term.

Fast forward to one week ago. We were once again in the middle of our bedtime routine when Chuna looked at me and said "Mom I'm going to start it". It took me a second to catch on to what she was saying, but once I did I burst out laughing. I told her "Oh really? You're going to start it are you?" she laughed and said "Yup I'm going to start it, see" and then she licked her finger and wiped it under her eyes, as if to simulate tears, and then went into a fake cry...It was hilarious.

Then three nights ago, after a particularly rough day Chuna told me she was going to "start it" because she couldn't fall asleep. I said "oh no you're not, there is no "starting it" tonight. Instead I want you to say "I Love Me" and repeat it until you fall asleep".
I have no idea where this came from, I was desparate for a peaceful bedtime and it was the first thing out of my mouth.

She said it, again and again...I Love Me...I Love Me....Then she closed her eyes and said it some more...I Love Me...I Love Me..I Lov.....until she fell asleep.

I thought "holy cow it actually worked"

Three nights later and it is as if she can't wait to get into bed because no sooner have we finished with our bedtime prayers, our goodnights, our I am So Beautiful routine she immediately goes into "I Love Me" and is asleep within 5 minutes. And she smiles the entire time...

Friends, when you parent little angels who are hurt, the days and nights can be so, so very hard. You can feel overwhelmed, unsure of your parenting ability, frustrated and angry, and defeated.
But then you see something so beautiful, such as your precious baby taking joy in her own heartfelt affirmations and it makes it all so worth it.

I am so incredibly blessed.....
 

The Benefit of Being Older

I have three bio kids...My Sons, Donovan and Ryan, who rank as the oldest and youngest respectively, were as drama free as any two children can be. Thank you boys I will be eternally grateful.

 

My daughter Kennedy, now 3 weeks shy of 18, managed to make up for all of their easygoing nature, and then some. Somehow, someway she knew exactly when and where to push every possible button known to man. Oh this girl was defiant, in only the biggest sense of that word, and in the interest of full disclosure I have to say that it is only through Gods good grace that her and I made it out alive...God, I owe you big....

After going through two adoptions, Oz and Ahbie who came home in June 2011, and now Chuna and Elen who came home in May 2012 I can see that life is going to be a repeat of my biological mommy experience.

 

Oz and Ahbie, who were 10 and 6 when they came home were and continue to be the most well behaved, well mannered, respectful children I have ever seen. We have never even so much as raised our voices with them.

 

My beautiful girls however are very much the opposite. Not so much Chuna who is 6 (well probably 8 but anyone who had adopted from Ethiopia knows what I mean) but my little Ellie Bellie (4 but probably 6) is Kennedy's twin magnified by 10 trillion...She can, with just a look in her pretty little eyes, say a thousand words, and each one of them begins and ends with "and what are you going to do about it, yeah that's what I thought"

 OH MY LORD!!!!!! Never have I practiced so many deep breathing exercises so many times in one day, every single day. Never....Did I say NEVER????

 

I feel lucky to have prior parenting experience with bio kids, because if I didn't I can see where I would spiral into the mindset of "OMG she is a traumatized child and I must do all I can to not make it any worse"...This is not to say their are not legitimate issues she is dealing with based on her story, rather that I can peg, with complete confidence and zero guilt, the trauma behaviors, versus the I am Kennedy magnified by 10 trillion and will, until I pass the age of 16 push every button you never even knew you had behaviors....

 

This scares me a lot because I have been down this road before, and it is HARD. 

 

Being a little older (cringe) and wiser(yippee) I have a different perspective then I did some 18 years ago, and I thank God for this.

Let me preface my next paragraph with this: I am not speaking for the parents who are in the midst of crisis with true, deep rooted, traumatized children who need every last bit of help and support they can garner. My hats off to you, and the difficult heart wrenching situation you find yourself in as you open your eyes each and every morning. You are miracle workers and your determination will pay of one day.

I am speaking only from my experience with my children.

We are not perfect parents. We don't have perfect children. We will get angry. We will raise our voice. We will (gasp) swear in front of them (and then be called on it by them). We will feel guilt. We will question and second guess ourselves. We will read books from one end of the spectrum to the other and walk away more confused and full of self doubt than before. We will all do these things because that is what parents do. And children will try their best to push us over the edge because that's what children do. But in the midst of it all, don't lose site of your gut instinct, your common sense, your mommy/daddy intuition, and to heck with what the books and the so-called experts say. Forget the latest societal trends, because that's all they are are trends and in only a short time from now they will be debunked and replaced with new trends. Don't allow yourself to become bogged down in in your own self criticism. Parenting is hard...It is the hardest job on this planet and the last thing we need to do is make it harder on ourselves by living up to standards that are, quite frankly, unrealistic and only exist in the heads of Authors who have never walked in your shoes.

Instead try closing out the worlds noise, opinions, thoughts, and judgements and consistently do this instead:
 
Love your children unconditionally. Discipline as necessary. Teach them to be compassionate and to put others first, always. Teach them to accept everyone, no matter their differences. Encourage them to follow their dreams, even if we do not agree with them. Accept them for who they are, and love them no matter what. Set clear boundaries and give them something to count on, even if they don't realize or appreciate it. Teach them about God, a Higher Power, Buddha, or whatever you have chosen to put your faith in. Teach them to never give up, no matter how badly they want to. Teach them to do things right the first time and to take pride in their work. Give them chores, it builds self worth. Teach them to save and budget their money, from tooth fairy money up to their first job paychecks. And finally teach them to love themselves unconditionally and to accept who they are.

And while your at it, gift yourself these very same things, you deserve it.

 

 

To God With Love

I heard you, thank you....With my heart overflowing with love - today I planted a seed...

Filling Up Little Hearts

The dynamic from which my girls were raised is complex. As a result there is constant competition as it relates to Mommy.

In the beginning it was ever-present and it was exhausting. If one gave me a kiss, the other would give me two. If we were on opposite ends of the room and one saw me sit down, she would make her way to me, and if the other saw what was happening, she too would make her way over and then it would become a race to see who could get next to me first.

Navigating this type of behavior is difficult for a multitude of reasons some of which include:

The heartbreak of seeing broken spirits. You want so much for them both to know that they are loved equally and unconditionally, whether they give me one kiss or two, whether they are right next to me or one person away.

It is time consuming and many intentional hours are spent rewiring their little minds to a new dynamic, different from what they have grown up with.  That is hard work, emotionally and physically.

It is exhausting for me...When you have to be on high alert all of the time, on constant lookout for anything that could possibly be construed in their little eyes as favoritism of the other, feeling second best to the other, etc. it drains you.

Thankfully they are both responding very well to the approach I have taken. Instead of having incidents 50 times a day, we have them 30. Still draining, but, where there is forward progress, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Seeing the strides they have made actually gives me the added energy I need to see this phase trough.

To help rebuild and make their little hearts whole I have implemented a new bedtime ritual. I mainly did this for Chuna, as she is the one most in need of reassurance, but Elen has fun with it as well.

After we say our good nights, and our prayers I sit with each girl and they have to repeat the following:

"I am so beautiful"
"I am so special"
"I am so wonderful"
"I am so smart"
"I am so strong"
"I am so brave"
"My mommy loves me so so much"
"My daddy loves me so so much"
"Jesus loves me so so much"
"This is my house"
"This is my room"
"This is my bed"
"This is my mommy"
"I am so beautiful"
"I am so loved"

At first Chuna would barely say these above a whisper. She was embarrassed, and the words seemed to feel very foreign to her. Not because of the language, but because saying she was beautiful was hard for her. As I said, the dynamic is a complex one, sadly.

Now, each night, I no longer have to prompt her, she immediately goes into it after good nights and prayers. And at the end of it she always, always wraps her arms around my neck, with a fierceness that is equally heartbreaking and exhilarating, and tells me "thank you mommy, I love you so so much"

And just tonight Elen added a new one, she says "I love my Mommy". I was so proud of her for having the courage to tell me her idea, she struggles in this area a bit, and it was such a blessing to see that in a moment where she should be on the receiving end, she wants to give back. 

 They are healing by leaps and bounds, by the grace of our beautiful God. I love them so much.....

Nailing Jello To A Tree

I don't know what is wrong with me. I want to write, I really want to write. But I haven't a clue where to start, or how to start. I want to implement a schedule in my home, I want to feel grounded, not like every second I am flying my the seat of my pants.

Each night before I fall asleep I play out how I want the coming day to unfold. I structure it and manipulate it into something that will include everyone and everything.  I go to sleep thinking about this, excited for the sun to rise, and then it does, and I feel pulled under before I have pulled of the covers. All of my plans forgotten, pushed, no shoved aside, by the new days demands. And before I know it I am in bed again, planning how I want the next day to unfold.

I don't know how to press on and make the intentional changes that need to be made. I am tired, and fatigue is the enemy when you want to implement something new. I find myself frustrated with my lack of commitment to beginning anew. And then frustrated with my frustration because I feel like I am on a hamster wheel and how can I commit when everything is flying by faster then I can process it.

I set goals, and they are forgotten within 10 minutes of setting them. I write down reminders, and then forget I wrote them down, so I write reminders of reminders and forget them all. Trying to organize my life right now feels like trying to nail jello to a tree.

I feel like a hoarder, and my hoard are my thoughts. There are so many, at the same time, I find it impossible to know where to begin, much less how to organize them. Which ones do I get rid of?
It is overwhelming so I shut them out and close the metaphorical door. But of course, as with a hoarder of stuff, you can only function that way for so long before you can no longer ignore what is right there 24/7....

My saving grace is that I have a Husband who is so good at doing what I can't. I have two teenagers who manage to do the right thing and make responsible decisions, and I have four littles who couldn't possibly be any more perfect.

I need someone who can step in and organize my thoughts, someone to get me back on track.

Does such a person exist, I have no clue, perhaps I should spend a few more hours on the computer googling this, thus keeping that metaphorical door closed for just a little bit longer.




 

Good Is Real Too

We started on this adventure two years ago, the adventure of adding beautiful treasures to our family through adoption. In that time I have heard more stories then I can remember about families who, as a result of adding treasure to their families, are now living life upside down, with children who have been diagnosed with RAD (the most common these days, it seems), along with multiple other diagnoses that one doesn't think they will have to contend with when starting their journey.

As I read each each story, or listen to friends talk about their experiences I feel my heart breaking for them, and for their entire family.

I simultaneously feel like I am slowly wilting, hoping to be unseen, praying that I don't get asked any questions as to how we are doing with four Ethiopian babes being added in the last two years. And then it comes, the question I dread anymore, "So, how are you doing"

Ugh...OK....Deep breath....Here it goes...."We are doing great, actually, truth be told, we are doing better than great" and then I wait for the accusatory glint in the eye that says "oh come on, you can be honest, you don't have to sugar coat" and I pretend I don't see it, and I pretend I don't hear the doubt in their voice as they say "Really? hmm, well that's great!" And then the guilt kicks in, and the regret for being honest, and the feeling that somehow I should have a story to tell of trauma, and an upside down life, or something bad that than allows me to be a "real" adoptive parent.

I have been experiencing this since the boys came home in June 2011...But I was able to brush it off easily. Then the girls came home in May 2012, four weeks ago today, and I have found I can no longer ignore the "implication" of having a great adoption experience x 2....

It happened when I read a comment on a blog in which the writer said that they have no interest in reading the sunshine and rainbow blogs of adoptive families, but rather the ones that are "real" because they talk about the "real" issues associated with adoption.....

This wasn't directed at me, I know this. But it corresponded with everything I have been experiencing and it made me mad...I mean really, really mad....As in I wanted to write on this persons blog and tell them that they are a jerk, mad.....I didn't of course. Instead I tried to figure out why it had that impact on me. I should not allow such things to have that much control over my emotions. And then I realized why it upset me...It implies that I am not "real" or "honest" or that I am "living in denial" or some other crazy thing...

I can tell you that this makes me sad because it seems as if, unless there is a  life filled with struggle and heartache, that it is somehow not a "real" life.

I do not have horror stories to write about, I am sorry if this disappoints you, and I am sorry you have horror stories. The worst I can say is that a hand full of times Cupcake was so upset that I would swear she was cussing me out in her native language. Um, OK...I've had my English speaking daughter do the very same thing, it goes along with parenthood, so it's not a big deal to me. It's not something I consider "Life altering" or worthy of a post which makes it bigger than it is. But the funny thing is I feel like I should write a post making it bigger than it is just so people, who I don't even know, can finally cast aside their doubts and say "OK, she is one of us, now this ir REAL"....

It is ridiculous that I should have to feel that I need to tone down our life to accommodate others expectations. And that not doing so causes people to "pass" on our life and our experiences simply because they are not full of rage, heartbreak, etc...

We are real...Our life is real...We go through growing pains, as every family does...We have bad days...Good days...and Great days...We wake up grouchy...We wake up happy...some days we don't want to get out of bed...We deal with grief...We explore feelings of loss/anger/confusion...We learn about life before "us" all of the time...We compromise...We give up restful nights for a bed full of little loves...We get our feelings hurt...We get angry...We have selfish moments...There are meltdowns...There are sibling rivalries and vying for the attention of Mom and Dad...We have a very real and normal life...We have a very balanced life, the lows are not extreme just as the highs are not extreme...

Do I think we are somehow super human parents, and that we are responsible for the lack of upset in our home? Nope, not for a minute...In fact we often times learn more from our children then they do from us. We don't get the credit for our "lack" of upheaval, our children do...They are the ones dealing so gracefully with the traumas they have endured. They are the ones who are brave and courageous. They are the ones who have had to overcome insurmountable obstacles, many of which would bring a grown adult to their knees. They are the heroes of their own stories, and they are the ones writing said stories. We are here to guide, support, love unconditionally, encourage, reign-in, nurture, and create an environment where they feel safe to experience any and all emotions they have on any given day. But these beautiul four developed their coping skills, and their personalities long before we came along.

Please, don't diminish their strides, or their heartbreak, simply because they happen not to have exceptionally difficult behavioral issues.

Just as there are "my life is upside down" families there are also "my life has never felt more right" families...Both are real, both are special, both are blessed by Gods grace, both are important, both are necessary, both are loved, both are appreciated, both are wonderful...Both are Good, and Good, no matter what is looks like, is real too....