Wow. What can I say about Paul? Its so funny because I was almost apprehensive about our being together again . . . he can be so quiet and distant and here I had invested myself so totally into Sam during the hospitalization and even immediate return home.
Paul is . . . remarkable is just lacking. He is a dichotomy. He's the caregiver, nurturer, advocate, bossy organizer and assistant. He's the clown who loves to elicit laughter. He's a prankster. I've found him to taunt and tease and have to admit that I have probably been too lenient in overlooking some things simply because I am amazed and relieved to see him reverting to being a little boy.
He is so open to love, to insights as to his foundation and life before in Ethiopia. I love him so fiercely. He regales us with tales (some of which are questionable in truth I may add) but I relish the details. We talk often of his Ethiopia Mama and Daddy. We talk of things that are far beyond the scope of what I would discuss with Mary, who is six months younger.
Paul and I talk of Sam and his emotional well-being and what we are facing as he is just realizing his physical limitations as the Wisconsin landscape emerges and awakens. We have to be supportive and yet not wallow in pity. He is worried that Sam will have too many challenges on the playground at school.
Paul is a student. He has an agenda . . . that boy. He yearns to learn with a fervor that astounds me. His fine motor skills allow him to write and draw with meticulous detail. He used to sing in the back of the van to himself often in Amharic and teach his sister words. Now he is singing in English. Just a few weeks back he was wanting to sing in Amharic and kept messing up - my heart lurched. I asked if he minded that he was forgetting and he just gazed at me with his "old soul" eyes and said . . . "No, I LOVE English." I admit my heart aches a little though at that thought.
Last week Paul and Mary had a patriotic musical program at school. We have been singing "Oh I love America" at the house for weeks but I when seeing my children march up on stage while playing their kazoos, and then seeing Paul with his drum . . . I cried. I was trying to shush the younger two sitting with us during the program to keep them from singing (laughing).
Paul can be such a tease. He is actually advanced in so many areas over Mary and at times will berate her schoolwork. Because of the accident we were allowed to advance them both a year in school and I believe without a doubt that Paul is in the place he needs to be . . . Mary I'm not convinced that another year of 5K wouldn't be most beneficial.
Paul's relationship with Julia is touching. She will often wake and stumble in the room to seek him out first before either Marty or I. I love it. Sam . . . well, that is sometimes a point of contention.
Paul will often care for Sam without my knowing. I have caught him carrying Sam up/down stairs to the basement or he will carry him out to the van before I even realize he's gone. He loves to help me cook and THAT is when I hear more stories of his Mom. When I am vacuuming, he will often hound me like a pesky fly . . . trying to take the attachments/unit from me.
And we talk of how we came to be here. I tell him that I love his Ethiopian family and that while I wish he had not known the pain of loss/separation that I am proud to be his Mama. I tell him of first learning of his existence and how we viewed our first photos of them (after we had already accepted their referral) and what we thought when we saw them. I told him that I saw him trying to smile but seeing fear and hope mixed. He sighed and said "I was scared." I tell him that I saw that and that my "mama heart" just ached to simply reach across the miles and pull him to me and whisper that it was going to be okay. And he melts against me with contentment. We talk often of his friends from both the orphanage and even before and he has stories and smiles.
Paul has selective hearing. He can be manipulative. He is normal. We just recently allowed them to even know we have a Wii gaming system (bought before travel to hopefully get us through a long homebound winter) and he's hooked. He is a competitor. He is as persistent in his requests to play as he is in schooling. We strictly monitor its time in use. The boys love it - the girls could care less. Paul will often look for things that Sam can play with one hand - always looking out for him . . . yet specifically choosing two-handed games when he is wanting distance. Paul is experiencing a growth spurt. He was wearing size 11 shoes when he arrived and is now needing his 1-1/2 shoes retired.
I never thought I'd be applying lotion and a hair pick each morning to my son's hair. This is one task that Paul used to insist he do himself and now it is something I am allowed to do with pleasure - no matter how late we are running. He realizes that I love being able to mother him in this way and I think he's enjoying giving up just an iota of responsibility as well.
His smile is quick and easy and ready. His eyes are windows of his being. He's so eager to please. I think of how we advocated for these boys and realize that the parent/child bond was forming before we met.
And I had brief moments of doubt about "older adoption" . . . especially when trying to be open to the situation and discern between legitimate issues and simple nay-saying. I still contend that their transition has been far easier than Julia's into our family - even with the accident.
Oh what I would have missed! Boys are really different - and coming from the perspective of having only sisters myself, then three daughters . . . I delight in my education for mothering my sons.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Hi! - Samuel update
I'm sorry for neglecting posting. We (of course) have been so very busy and adjusting and simply . . . finding our way. We've had tremendous "highs" and oh-so devastating lows concerning coping and finding our way.
BUT . . . oh my goodness we are good. No, we are not good . . . we are super-fantastic!! We are joy-filled. We are celebrating life and family and love. We ARE family. We fuss and fight and share and console and tease and taunt and play. We SING.
And specifically there is Sam. I tell my children that I simply cannot mention his name without grinning and looking down just a mite and shaking my head. Sam is . . . SAM!! He has this infectious spirit that is both inspiring and frustrating. His volume control is most often set on sonic-boom level and I probably correct him for using his "outside voice" more often than all other things combined. He is lively. He is vivacious and funny and STUBBORN. I have photos that I will try to post as well as video.
Sam scoots around our house using his right arm and his bottom/upper legs. He has a gait and scampers often that resembles a crab on the beach . . . often going more sideways but able to maneuver. He often will urinate in the toilet by being lifted backwards on the seat and allowing his legs to rest on our elongated frames. His only current "dressings" are tube socks that help the moisturizing cream/lotion keep his significant skin grafts supple - we discovered that if we are lax then his skin becomes almost calloused and prone to discomfort.
Sam's left arm is still flaccid. We went specifically to address it last month and when the doctor pinched his upper arm (above where the extensive injury/amputation occurred) Sam promptly squealed and responded by pulling the doctor's rather prominent knuckle hair. I was mortified and highly amused at the same time. Our EMG scheduled for this week (to test nerve/muscle viability) has been postponed until April 1st. It is hard to decide what feeling he may have above that amputation site because Sam LOVES to squeal "ow" even when he cannot feel. There is definitely something more than damage below the amputation site and they think that maybe his brachial plexus (chest/shoulder) was injured.
Sam's manual wheelchair has been configured and is ready for delivery. We should receive it on 3/24/09. I am reminded once again of the goodness of God and the support of community. The MANUAL chair was over $3500 and the funds from the benefit will supply Sam a way to maneuver himself. The power wheelchair is still caught in . . . paperwork?? I've struggled these past months dealing with paperwork and things changing without notice.
We returned to the clinic earlier this month and Sam amazed especially Dr. Sato and his staff. He was removed of any restrictions concerning his hip and can weight-bear. We were given a prescription to assess and treat him for physical therapy again to begin to learn to knee-walk and even crawl to move closer to having prostheses.
And Sam has begun doing this himself. He loves a challenge.
We are still waiting to hear from Shriner's Hospital. We would prefer Sam be treated there as with this economy and the instability of employment - it could be detrimental to the continuum of care for Sam if we change carriers and possibly have his providers suddenly become "out of network" or even worse . . . get hit by a pre-existing clause for a period of time. We realize that Sam should be considered "disabled" but until his social security card arrives we cannot even apply. It should be here hopefully this week.
And of course there is the ostomy. We are fine with it. I have battled blow-outs and Sam unclamping it and such. The stoma has remained so very healthy and any hint of skin break-down has been resolved within a day . . . that only happened twice.
Sam is proud of his body, as are we. It is neat to be able to wave your "feet" at people when in a wheelchair. We don't call Sam's legs "stumps" . . . they are still his legs. We may refer to his leg below-the-knee as feet. We admire how the pigment is developing from both the graft donor sites and placement sites. One leg (the right) has MUCH more soft tissue and we marvel at how each leg is different and beautiful. Changing Sam's ostomy bag is a source of interest with his siblings and he gets great pleasure if he can pass gas during the process. He will often kiss the fingers of his left hand (lefty) when we are dressing or adjusting his Aquaplast splint. I have to watch him carefully in not wrenching or twisting that arm since he doesn't feel it well (if at all).
Sam is best buds during the day with his now 3-year-old sister Julia. They are cohorts when their older siblings are away. Julia acts as Sam's legs (or fetcher) and Sam in turn is Julia's mouthpiece (she is in speech therapy due to her being born with a cleft lip/palate). During their nap time, Julia sleeps in Paul's bed simply because they cannot stand to be separated. Once the school bus arrives, all bets are off as to if they will tolerate each other or not.
Life here is crazy and chaotic and wild and wonderful and an adventure. Parenting isn't for sissies (and I can be one at times) but goodness gracious we have come so very far and I cannot even begin to fathom as to where God will lead us from here.
BUT . . . oh my goodness we are good. No, we are not good . . . we are super-fantastic!! We are joy-filled. We are celebrating life and family and love. We ARE family. We fuss and fight and share and console and tease and taunt and play. We SING.
And specifically there is Sam. I tell my children that I simply cannot mention his name without grinning and looking down just a mite and shaking my head. Sam is . . . SAM!! He has this infectious spirit that is both inspiring and frustrating. His volume control is most often set on sonic-boom level and I probably correct him for using his "outside voice" more often than all other things combined. He is lively. He is vivacious and funny and STUBBORN. I have photos that I will try to post as well as video.
Sam scoots around our house using his right arm and his bottom/upper legs. He has a gait and scampers often that resembles a crab on the beach . . . often going more sideways but able to maneuver. He often will urinate in the toilet by being lifted backwards on the seat and allowing his legs to rest on our elongated frames. His only current "dressings" are tube socks that help the moisturizing cream/lotion keep his significant skin grafts supple - we discovered that if we are lax then his skin becomes almost calloused and prone to discomfort.
Sam's left arm is still flaccid. We went specifically to address it last month and when the doctor pinched his upper arm (above where the extensive injury/amputation occurred) Sam promptly squealed and responded by pulling the doctor's rather prominent knuckle hair. I was mortified and highly amused at the same time. Our EMG scheduled for this week (to test nerve/muscle viability) has been postponed until April 1st. It is hard to decide what feeling he may have above that amputation site because Sam LOVES to squeal "ow" even when he cannot feel. There is definitely something more than damage below the amputation site and they think that maybe his brachial plexus (chest/shoulder) was injured.
Sam's manual wheelchair has been configured and is ready for delivery. We should receive it on 3/24/09. I am reminded once again of the goodness of God and the support of community. The MANUAL chair was over $3500 and the funds from the benefit will supply Sam a way to maneuver himself. The power wheelchair is still caught in . . . paperwork?? I've struggled these past months dealing with paperwork and things changing without notice.
We returned to the clinic earlier this month and Sam amazed especially Dr. Sato and his staff. He was removed of any restrictions concerning his hip and can weight-bear. We were given a prescription to assess and treat him for physical therapy again to begin to learn to knee-walk and even crawl to move closer to having prostheses.
And Sam has begun doing this himself. He loves a challenge.
We are still waiting to hear from Shriner's Hospital. We would prefer Sam be treated there as with this economy and the instability of employment - it could be detrimental to the continuum of care for Sam if we change carriers and possibly have his providers suddenly become "out of network" or even worse . . . get hit by a pre-existing clause for a period of time. We realize that Sam should be considered "disabled" but until his social security card arrives we cannot even apply. It should be here hopefully this week.
And of course there is the ostomy. We are fine with it. I have battled blow-outs and Sam unclamping it and such. The stoma has remained so very healthy and any hint of skin break-down has been resolved within a day . . . that only happened twice.
Sam is proud of his body, as are we. It is neat to be able to wave your "feet" at people when in a wheelchair. We don't call Sam's legs "stumps" . . . they are still his legs. We may refer to his leg below-the-knee as feet. We admire how the pigment is developing from both the graft donor sites and placement sites. One leg (the right) has MUCH more soft tissue and we marvel at how each leg is different and beautiful. Changing Sam's ostomy bag is a source of interest with his siblings and he gets great pleasure if he can pass gas during the process. He will often kiss the fingers of his left hand (lefty) when we are dressing or adjusting his Aquaplast splint. I have to watch him carefully in not wrenching or twisting that arm since he doesn't feel it well (if at all).
Sam is best buds during the day with his now 3-year-old sister Julia. They are cohorts when their older siblings are away. Julia acts as Sam's legs (or fetcher) and Sam in turn is Julia's mouthpiece (she is in speech therapy due to her being born with a cleft lip/palate). During their nap time, Julia sleeps in Paul's bed simply because they cannot stand to be separated. Once the school bus arrives, all bets are off as to if they will tolerate each other or not.
Life here is crazy and chaotic and wild and wonderful and an adventure. Parenting isn't for sissies (and I can be one at times) but goodness gracious we have come so very far and I cannot even begin to fathom as to where God will lead us from here.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
The Accident
It has been one week since our lives were altered by the accident. Horrific and tragic - yet I won't be using those descriptors again.
Because we have SAM! He's with us. His body has changed forever but he's still got the same spirit and I am seeing him emerge from his sadness and flickers of that little guy who could make me laugh and see red with regularity.
I have been described as strong and such and believe me, it is simply God and prayer. Sam is the one who has been so strong and he's not only fighting this setback, he's starting to shine. I can talk about when he gets new feet/legs and he'll look at me and give his head a shake of affirmation. He is still sad but at times I am too.
So am I mad at God? Heaven forbid, no! Haven't even thought of it. Where was God then? Right there. When I first realized I tried to grab Paul and Mary and get them up the hill to the house. We stopped on the driveway and held hands and I instructed them to pray. And we did. And we asked God to hold little Samuel. And He did.
During the long drive to the hospital (its about an hour) I was of course in shock and for the first part Marty and I drove in silence. I realized that it was grave and that we would very likely experience the horror of losing a child. I admitted that I didn't know what to pray. Sam's injuries were so severe that I felt selfish pleading with God not to take him from me. And yet I thought of Maria Sue Chapman and knew that I didn't care what - I wanted my son. And I was torn. How could he survive and yet, how could he ever function?
So I prayed specifically for Sam to know he was loved and to have peace and to realize he was being held in God's very hand. And that is exactly what happened.
Sam's injuries have altered his body permanently. We still do not know the exact extent - yet he is still our Sam. If I cannot look at his severed limbs and accept, then how can I ever ask for him to? And I have come to realize a couple of things this past week . . .
Sam is beautiful. His legs are beautiful, his arm is beautiful, his colostomy is as well. He is precious and although his legs are now "different" from many others, he is no less precious or loved or worthy. I saw his arm for the very first time today and as the area was being exposed I simply prayed that I could look at this area and see him simply as God did. I could look at his arm and then directly in his face and say . . . hey, it looks great! And I wasn't telling him a lie. He is gloriously and wonderfully made and this accident did not change that.
I live in Wisconsin so I have to put a Wisconsonite spin on it. This accident happened and to quote Brett Farve (during the recent trade request) . . . "it is what it is." I cannot change it. So as a Christian I can rant and wail and lament and lash out, or I can set my shoulders forward and step out in faith in this new direction. We had an accident and God stepped in a swooped up my child and carried us through to a place where Sam is able to begin the healing process.
This is an opportunity. We can either fold up and wither or we can choose to plant ourselves firmly right where we are and decide to aim for blossoming once again.
I have been enriched, embraced and enveloped in the body of Christ through this. How could I think about choosing otherwise?
Because we have SAM! He's with us. His body has changed forever but he's still got the same spirit and I am seeing him emerge from his sadness and flickers of that little guy who could make me laugh and see red with regularity.
I have been described as strong and such and believe me, it is simply God and prayer. Sam is the one who has been so strong and he's not only fighting this setback, he's starting to shine. I can talk about when he gets new feet/legs and he'll look at me and give his head a shake of affirmation. He is still sad but at times I am too.
So am I mad at God? Heaven forbid, no! Haven't even thought of it. Where was God then? Right there. When I first realized I tried to grab Paul and Mary and get them up the hill to the house. We stopped on the driveway and held hands and I instructed them to pray. And we did. And we asked God to hold little Samuel. And He did.
During the long drive to the hospital (its about an hour) I was of course in shock and for the first part Marty and I drove in silence. I realized that it was grave and that we would very likely experience the horror of losing a child. I admitted that I didn't know what to pray. Sam's injuries were so severe that I felt selfish pleading with God not to take him from me. And yet I thought of Maria Sue Chapman and knew that I didn't care what - I wanted my son. And I was torn. How could he survive and yet, how could he ever function?
So I prayed specifically for Sam to know he was loved and to have peace and to realize he was being held in God's very hand. And that is exactly what happened.
Sam's injuries have altered his body permanently. We still do not know the exact extent - yet he is still our Sam. If I cannot look at his severed limbs and accept, then how can I ever ask for him to? And I have come to realize a couple of things this past week . . .
Sam is beautiful. His legs are beautiful, his arm is beautiful, his colostomy is as well. He is precious and although his legs are now "different" from many others, he is no less precious or loved or worthy. I saw his arm for the very first time today and as the area was being exposed I simply prayed that I could look at this area and see him simply as God did. I could look at his arm and then directly in his face and say . . . hey, it looks great! And I wasn't telling him a lie. He is gloriously and wonderfully made and this accident did not change that.
I live in Wisconsin so I have to put a Wisconsonite spin on it. This accident happened and to quote Brett Farve (during the recent trade request) . . . "it is what it is." I cannot change it. So as a Christian I can rant and wail and lament and lash out, or I can set my shoulders forward and step out in faith in this new direction. We had an accident and God stepped in a swooped up my child and carried us through to a place where Sam is able to begin the healing process.
This is an opportunity. We can either fold up and wither or we can choose to plant ourselves firmly right where we are and decide to aim for blossoming once again.
I have been enriched, embraced and enveloped in the body of Christ through this. How could I think about choosing otherwise?
Saturday, October 4, 2008
PRAY!
Samuel was injured today in an accident involving the tractor. He was airlifted from the park behind our house to Children's Hospital in Milwaukee. We need prayers.
Currently he is still in surgery and will need many, many more. He has lost one leg below-the-knee and the other they are trying to save to the ankle. One arm is broken near the shoulder but the elbow is more critical - open fractures with tissue damage/missing.
His pelvis is also fractured on one side. His buttocks and back are injured and he needs a colostomy. If he continues to do well in surgery tonight that will be performed now.
His vitals are good. He was awake up until surgery where we were able to kiss him.
Please lift him up. He's such a precious, vivacious, mischievous guy.
Marty and I are good and feeling the prayers and have our faith to sustain. It is the other children (Paul especially and Mary) that I worry about - they are with their Uncle Mike and Aunt Sheryl at our house tonight . . . . all the kids are piled in bed together (Paul usually sleeps with Samuel).
We love you all. We appreciate the power of prayer. We have a caringbridge.org website titled samuelphillipson that does not require a password and will keep all the medical stuff there.
Blessings to all. We praise God that we are His children and that we are in such a place where Sam is being tended to so well.
Currently he is still in surgery and will need many, many more. He has lost one leg below-the-knee and the other they are trying to save to the ankle. One arm is broken near the shoulder but the elbow is more critical - open fractures with tissue damage/missing.
His pelvis is also fractured on one side. His buttocks and back are injured and he needs a colostomy. If he continues to do well in surgery tonight that will be performed now.
His vitals are good. He was awake up until surgery where we were able to kiss him.
Please lift him up. He's such a precious, vivacious, mischievous guy.
Marty and I are good and feeling the prayers and have our faith to sustain. It is the other children (Paul especially and Mary) that I worry about - they are with their Uncle Mike and Aunt Sheryl at our house tonight . . . . all the kids are piled in bed together (Paul usually sleeps with Samuel).
We love you all. We appreciate the power of prayer. We have a caringbridge.org website titled samuelphillipson that does not require a password and will keep all the medical stuff there.
Blessings to all. We praise God that we are His children and that we are in such a place where Sam is being tended to so well.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Friday morning
Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. My first day as "under-the-weather Mom" and all four children were in my care. Mary and Paul do not have school on Fridays. I had originally planned to enroll Paul, Mary, and Sam in gymnastics today (enrollment started today and it fills up fast) as well as get Mary and Paul to school anywhere between 8-10 for pictures.
Well, the past two afternoons I had run a fever that responded fairly easily to Tylenol. I canceled plans to visit with Mike and Diane (and tribe) earlier this week for fear that I may be contagious. It is harvest time around here and I've been sniffing but it could be simply more residue in the air, especially as there is a field abutting our property.
I woke this morning at 1 a.m. and knew immediately the source for the fever. I had an ear infection. It hurt to place my head on the left side. If I moved my jaw in a certain manner I would gasp and grimace and try NOT to cry. Ugh!
So I head to the living room and try not to wake the boys (they are still on "light" sleep mode and feel entitled to waken anyone if they emerge during our sleep cycle). I tried various comfort measures, watched some programs I had TiVo'd, researched when the urgent care opened, and planned the logistics for attending the clinic and pharmacy with the kids.
I was on the road by 8. And I was tickled pink by how few times I had to verbally "corral" the kids. The waiting room had a large fish tank. I've been attempting to explain the concept of carving a pumpkin to the boys and there were enough "fake" examples at the clinic to detail. Sam did attempt (semi-successfully) to shuck a scarecrow decoration before I could curtail. That was our only time out.
We drew attention, my crew and I. The children held hands and were quiet and orderly in the halls. If anyone approached then Mary would launch into a diatribe . . .
"My name is Mary and I'm five years old. This is my sister Julia. These are my brothers Paul and Samuel. I'm five and Paul is five. Sam is three and Julia is two. Julia is from China and Paul and Sam are from Ethiopia. I'm from her!" while jutting a thumb in my direction.
My immediate reaction was to laugh which evoked more pain and sent me into a spasm which caused my nose to run. The staff winked and smiled in return. The children beamed.
We were led down the hallway and my vitals were obtained. Paul discovered the "sticker" bin and each child was able to claim one. We went to the largest examination room they had. Paul hesitated upon entering the room but I assured him that we were there for ME, not for him. He immediately began to relax (and explore).
I began to attempt to prepare him for having his blood drawn in the near future to obtain his titers for vaccinations and he explained to me that he had his blood drawn four times previously and had NOT cried. Even Samuel did not cry.
I told him that I didn't cry either, Mary did cry but would hold still, and Julia would fight like a tiger and require three adults to attempt to locate a suitable target. He laughed.
When the doctor arrived she confirmed my infection. Before we exited she asked how I coped. I told her senility played a factor. (Actually, I do remember calling my friend Coni in Memphis when I first learned we were expecting and telling her she'd have to prepare to travel frequently to Wisconsin to help me remember where I put the baby). I assured her that I was very human and subject to "grumpy Mama" mode as well as "angry Mama" to which my children laughed but confirmed.
We now headed to the pharmacy . . . Walgreens. Now I have gone on limited outings with the children since we arrived home with the boys. We've gone to McDonalds once, WalMart fairly frequently, church once, school, and that is it. I knew that Walgreens would not have large enough carts to assemble the little ones without fussing over who was in front/back so we were going on foot power alone.
And they were remarkable - really. I was told it would be 15 minutes (which was 25) and all of the six seats to wait were empty. I directed the kids to the four in a row and took mine facing them. I was still very uncomfortable but insistent on bottoms on the chair seats and no sliding, changing seats, and no being able to sit next to me (just another thing to cause a ruckus).
They chatted and sang - Mary in English and Paul in Amharic. Paul asked once to "go, go, go" and I found it hard to convey that we were waiting for a prescription. But our name was called and three of the staff came to the counter to comment on how marvelous they thought the children were. I was caught between being proud, being afraid to jinx the situation, and simply wanting pain relief.
Either way, I stopped at the cooler section for each child to choose a Propel with a twist-cap (clear liquid and lower possibility of spilling). I also bought a small tub of gummy worms (more like caterpillars as they were short).
When we got to the van I distributed the liquid refreshment as well as five gummies apiece. We drove home in contentment. Once home I admit that I utilized the DVD player for quiet time and went to our room to lie on my side with ear drops instilled.
No outbursts. No drama (well, except for a protest or two concerning who was picking the DVD. We rotate turns for choosing in descending age order. My children guard that right to pick closely and any monitoring or especially touching of the current selection available upstairs is cause for protest).
I am now pain-free, maybe uncomfortable but good. Marty is home. Our friend Marla came by for a visit and to catch up on how life goes in this early post-adoptive phase.
The girls wanted her to witness their bath. Julia didn't want me to brush her teeth or even tried to brush off my goodnight kiss for a request from Marla.
Good thing that I'm not more sensitive with age (and don't tell Marty I typed that - he doesn't read the blog). I survived my first not-feeling-so-hot day and mainly resorted to sugar and DVDs. Not bad I think.
Blessings -
Well, the past two afternoons I had run a fever that responded fairly easily to Tylenol. I canceled plans to visit with Mike and Diane (and tribe) earlier this week for fear that I may be contagious. It is harvest time around here and I've been sniffing but it could be simply more residue in the air, especially as there is a field abutting our property.
I woke this morning at 1 a.m. and knew immediately the source for the fever. I had an ear infection. It hurt to place my head on the left side. If I moved my jaw in a certain manner I would gasp and grimace and try NOT to cry. Ugh!
So I head to the living room and try not to wake the boys (they are still on "light" sleep mode and feel entitled to waken anyone if they emerge during our sleep cycle). I tried various comfort measures, watched some programs I had TiVo'd, researched when the urgent care opened, and planned the logistics for attending the clinic and pharmacy with the kids.
I was on the road by 8. And I was tickled pink by how few times I had to verbally "corral" the kids. The waiting room had a large fish tank. I've been attempting to explain the concept of carving a pumpkin to the boys and there were enough "fake" examples at the clinic to detail. Sam did attempt (semi-successfully) to shuck a scarecrow decoration before I could curtail. That was our only time out.
We drew attention, my crew and I. The children held hands and were quiet and orderly in the halls. If anyone approached then Mary would launch into a diatribe . . .
"My name is Mary and I'm five years old. This is my sister Julia. These are my brothers Paul and Samuel. I'm five and Paul is five. Sam is three and Julia is two. Julia is from China and Paul and Sam are from Ethiopia. I'm from her!" while jutting a thumb in my direction.
My immediate reaction was to laugh which evoked more pain and sent me into a spasm which caused my nose to run. The staff winked and smiled in return. The children beamed.
We were led down the hallway and my vitals were obtained. Paul discovered the "sticker" bin and each child was able to claim one. We went to the largest examination room they had. Paul hesitated upon entering the room but I assured him that we were there for ME, not for him. He immediately began to relax (and explore).
I began to attempt to prepare him for having his blood drawn in the near future to obtain his titers for vaccinations and he explained to me that he had his blood drawn four times previously and had NOT cried. Even Samuel did not cry.
I told him that I didn't cry either, Mary did cry but would hold still, and Julia would fight like a tiger and require three adults to attempt to locate a suitable target. He laughed.
When the doctor arrived she confirmed my infection. Before we exited she asked how I coped. I told her senility played a factor. (Actually, I do remember calling my friend Coni in Memphis when I first learned we were expecting and telling her she'd have to prepare to travel frequently to Wisconsin to help me remember where I put the baby). I assured her that I was very human and subject to "grumpy Mama" mode as well as "angry Mama" to which my children laughed but confirmed.
We now headed to the pharmacy . . . Walgreens. Now I have gone on limited outings with the children since we arrived home with the boys. We've gone to McDonalds once, WalMart fairly frequently, church once, school, and that is it. I knew that Walgreens would not have large enough carts to assemble the little ones without fussing over who was in front/back so we were going on foot power alone.
And they were remarkable - really. I was told it would be 15 minutes (which was 25) and all of the six seats to wait were empty. I directed the kids to the four in a row and took mine facing them. I was still very uncomfortable but insistent on bottoms on the chair seats and no sliding, changing seats, and no being able to sit next to me (just another thing to cause a ruckus).
They chatted and sang - Mary in English and Paul in Amharic. Paul asked once to "go, go, go" and I found it hard to convey that we were waiting for a prescription. But our name was called and three of the staff came to the counter to comment on how marvelous they thought the children were. I was caught between being proud, being afraid to jinx the situation, and simply wanting pain relief.
Either way, I stopped at the cooler section for each child to choose a Propel with a twist-cap (clear liquid and lower possibility of spilling). I also bought a small tub of gummy worms (more like caterpillars as they were short).
When we got to the van I distributed the liquid refreshment as well as five gummies apiece. We drove home in contentment. Once home I admit that I utilized the DVD player for quiet time and went to our room to lie on my side with ear drops instilled.
No outbursts. No drama (well, except for a protest or two concerning who was picking the DVD. We rotate turns for choosing in descending age order. My children guard that right to pick closely and any monitoring or especially touching of the current selection available upstairs is cause for protest).
I am now pain-free, maybe uncomfortable but good. Marty is home. Our friend Marla came by for a visit and to catch up on how life goes in this early post-adoptive phase.
The girls wanted her to witness their bath. Julia didn't want me to brush her teeth or even tried to brush off my goodnight kiss for a request from Marla.
Good thing that I'm not more sensitive with age (and don't tell Marty I typed that - he doesn't read the blog). I survived my first not-feeling-so-hot day and mainly resorted to sugar and DVDs. Not bad I think.
Blessings -
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Dinner conversations
We had our first dinner CONVERSATION with the children I believe last night. Paul and Mary have been studying body parts in class and yesterday was the eyes. Now Mary's eyes are currently a grayish color and will lean toward blue or green as the mood warrants. Mine are hazel (light brown/green), Marty's are blue-gray, while Paul, Samuel, and Julia's are such a dark brown that I would label them as black as I cannot distinguish a pupil readily.
My student children came home with papers stating "Paul's eyes are brown" and he signed his name and drew a brown eye. Mary's was "Mary's eyes are green" with her name signed completely backwards (YarM) and her eye drawn huge with a mixture of green and brown flecks. She announced to me that she had blue eyes just like the paper said and was adamant I was wrong when I told her the paper had her with green eyes.
This just couldn't be! She was furious! Why, she had even traced the word "green" with a green marker.
I had prepared Marty ahead of time and he began by initiating the conversation about having a green-eyed daughter. This sent Mary on a blue-streak of talking about her eye color.
And the Paul says . .. "Mom?" "Dad?" "Mary?" "School?" "Blah, blah, blah" with the most mischievous twinkle in his eye and his grin about to explode across his face.
"Oh?" Marty delighted in hearing about school from another perspective. Imagine Mary talking excessively in class!
I changed tactics. I asked Mary about her brother Paul in school. She seemed confused.
"But was Paul naughty in school today?"
Paul gasped and squealed and began to wag his finger. Mary insisted that her brother was well-behaved.
Marty joined in. "Are you sure? Paul - good? Not naughty at all?"
All the children are now laughing and Paul is beaming.
We talked about eye colors and named each person's eye color. Mine stumped Paul totally and he kept looking to different objects that may match mine.
Then he pointed to his skin. "Mom?"
"Ahhh - you have lovely brown skin" I told him. He smiled.
"And what color is Mama's skin?"
"Pasty" Marty chided. Paul looks confused.
We looked at freckles - a new concept to these dark-pigmented children.
And then Marty's tan line from his watch was discussed. How do you explain a tan to a newly-arrived Ethiopian? Paul would hold up all his fingers "Ten?" You looked in his face and saw oblivion.
Samuel joined in more readily when we talked of moods. What does grumpy Mama sound like?
"HUSH!"
Marty added - and grumpy Daddy? Hesitation. He blew his knuckles and rubbed them on his shirt with satisfaction. Paul spoke with authority "Now you stop that!" I laughed.
And Grumpy Samuel? Everyone threw back there head with their mouths wide and screamed in a high pitched voice.
Sleepy Julia? Snores and then cries and then snores (she still will cry out in her sleep frequently through the night).
Our first lively animated conversation at the table that included our boys and not speaking to them or at them! Ahh - the moments of satisfaction that continue to evoke such feelings of utmost peace.
My student children came home with papers stating "Paul's eyes are brown" and he signed his name and drew a brown eye. Mary's was "Mary's eyes are green" with her name signed completely backwards (YarM) and her eye drawn huge with a mixture of green and brown flecks. She announced to me that she had blue eyes just like the paper said and was adamant I was wrong when I told her the paper had her with green eyes.
This just couldn't be! She was furious! Why, she had even traced the word "green" with a green marker.
I had prepared Marty ahead of time and he began by initiating the conversation about having a green-eyed daughter. This sent Mary on a blue-streak of talking about her eye color.
And the Paul says . .. "Mom?" "Dad?" "Mary?" "School?" "Blah, blah, blah" with the most mischievous twinkle in his eye and his grin about to explode across his face.
"Oh?" Marty delighted in hearing about school from another perspective. Imagine Mary talking excessively in class!
I changed tactics. I asked Mary about her brother Paul in school. She seemed confused.
"But was Paul naughty in school today?"
Paul gasped and squealed and began to wag his finger. Mary insisted that her brother was well-behaved.
Marty joined in. "Are you sure? Paul - good? Not naughty at all?"
All the children are now laughing and Paul is beaming.
We talked about eye colors and named each person's eye color. Mine stumped Paul totally and he kept looking to different objects that may match mine.
Then he pointed to his skin. "Mom?"
"Ahhh - you have lovely brown skin" I told him. He smiled.
"And what color is Mama's skin?"
"Pasty" Marty chided. Paul looks confused.
We looked at freckles - a new concept to these dark-pigmented children.
And then Marty's tan line from his watch was discussed. How do you explain a tan to a newly-arrived Ethiopian? Paul would hold up all his fingers "Ten?" You looked in his face and saw oblivion.
Samuel joined in more readily when we talked of moods. What does grumpy Mama sound like?
"HUSH!"
Marty added - and grumpy Daddy? Hesitation. He blew his knuckles and rubbed them on his shirt with satisfaction. Paul spoke with authority "Now you stop that!" I laughed.
And Grumpy Samuel? Everyone threw back there head with their mouths wide and screamed in a high pitched voice.
Sleepy Julia? Snores and then cries and then snores (she still will cry out in her sleep frequently through the night).
Our first lively animated conversation at the table that included our boys and not speaking to them or at them! Ahh - the moments of satisfaction that continue to evoke such feelings of utmost peace.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Sunday's outing
I guess Sunday was our official "coming out" party for the guys. We had previously made an attempt at church (that is another story in itself) the week before - but didn't quite make it through the service and this time the whole family was there.
And what a marvelous time! The affair officially began at 1 but we didn't arrive until almost 3 (mowing, bathing, food preparation, naps, visiting Marty's mom). I could sense Paul's apprehension. Mary's take was . . . a picnic? Do I have to eat anything??? And this is the child that is supposedly linked to my DNA (laughing).
We knew most people on arrival and the children were dispersed in various activities as there was a playground, basketball, soccer, chalk, bubbles, etc. Mary takes off immediately to tag up with her friend Grace and the the boys are rather dumbfounded by this presence of people. Most have already eaten (imagine the children didn't wait two extra hours . . . ) and we start to assemble some plates for those that desire. The weather is marvelous . . . warm but not hot unless you chased too many youth on the soccer field (Marty). Of course my sons are in long pants and Sam is actually in a sweat suit at times with the hood up. They just intrigue me as I am such a weenie when it comes to heat and I'm having a hard time adjusting to having cold-natured children. Even my daughters both refuse any and all covers when sleeping.
The boys played more with each other or alongside other children as opposed to WITH them - and that is just fine with me. I knew we had a football game later tonight and Marty and I had agreed that if we stayed until 5 we'd still have plenty of time to get all of our "to dos" accomplished and have the children tended to and still have plenty of time to enjoy the game. The game is another matter entirely but my sister and brother-in-law rejoice with the outcome. I love Mary and Craig so if we are going to lose I guess it is best to lose to someone who has die hard fans near to my heart.
I did the initial gathering as a good wife at 4:57 to honor our previous agreement and was pleasantly surprised when there were no takers! Everyone was happily situated in play or looking for more food or such and that to me was a measure of the days events.
Here's a few photos of the events . . . the bubble-maker was by far the most intriguing for all of my children, although we did "catch" Julia drinking the container on more than one occasion.
I'd call the outing an overwhelming success. When asked if they'd like to do this again all children gave a resounding "yes" without hesitation.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Look Dad - Two wheels
We have a bike-riding son in Helenville. I knew that this child was determined and once I saw how he was persistent in learning how to simply pedal his bicycle just over three weeks ago, I felt that this day would arrive soon. Paul took off his own training wheels. He put them back on after a day or so and they came back off a couple of days ago. He would resort to another sibling's bicycle/tricycle if he needed to feel speed in the meantime.
So I am walking through the living room today and I catch a glimpse of him on HIS bicycle
and see him complete two, three, and sometimes four rotations before letting his legs check his balance. I step outside. I try to capture pictures but he poses and puts his foot down (hence the first one from behind).
And before the day is advanced much further he's adept in his two-wheeler skills. He wears winter mittens as biking gloves (we haven't done a long bike trail trek yet so he hasn't seen Marty and I wear ours). I'm so tickled over this.
He now calls his bicycle simply the "cycle" and I believe in his mind he is racing along like his Dad on the motorcycle. I'll try to get a picture of him in comparison . . . the only one I believe I have is the Harley Davidson that is long gone (traded in favor of the more comfortable Honda Goldwing that we had on order with visions of long road trips together . . . . then we discovered I was pregnant with Mary before it was actually delivered) . . . hehe.
So I am walking through the living room today and I catch a glimpse of him on HIS bicycle
and see him complete two, three, and sometimes four rotations before letting his legs check his balance. I step outside. I try to capture pictures but he poses and puts his foot down (hence the first one from behind).And before the day is advanced much further he's adept in his two-wheeler skills. He wears winter mittens as biking gloves (we haven't done a long bike trail trek yet so he hasn't seen Marty and I wear ours). I'm so tickled over this.
He now calls his bicycle simply the "cycle" and I believe in his mind he is racing along like his Dad on the motorcycle. I'll try to get a picture of him in comparison . . . the only one I believe I have is the Harley Davidson that is long gone (traded in favor of the more comfortable Honda Goldwing that we had on order with visions of long road trips together . . . . then we discovered I was pregnant with Mary before it was actually delivered) . . . hehe.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Foggy Sunday morning
What a beautiful morning. Its a sleepy morning and just oh-so-nice having time to simply be together as family. I couldn't sleep earlier and got up around 4 but then crawled back in bed after three of the kids awoke and had time to simply talk with Marty (and Julia was in bed with us). Then Julia left and eventually Samuel joined us. He has the NICEST smile! Samuel left and Paul soon entered. I left intending to get the camera of the Phillipson men but soon the children noticed the fog and that began a whole new concept for my newest arrivals.
Paul determined that this MUST be the snow that he has seen pictures of and heard tales. He throws the door open and races out in his pajamas. A crane that is at the base of the hill is startled and takes off with what I call the "pterodactyl cry" of protest. Paul scampers right back in. Its funny explaining birds and caterpillars and worms and grasshoppers/crickets etc. to your never-exposed-before children.
Yesterday we went to a local church bazaar and ALL the children discovered that they love homemade doughnuts. There are apple festivals abounding and the trees are starting to emerge in their show of fall colors.
And I just embrace it all. The wonder, the colors, the joy of pillow talk with my spouse, my children . . . my life. How marvelous that God put me on this adventure. We're headed for a large get-together with other adoptive families in the Madison area today. I'm curious to see the interaction level of the boys - I KNOW Mary will be swept up quickly.
I'll keep you posted and will TAKE the camera.
Paul determined that this MUST be the snow that he has seen pictures of and heard tales. He throws the door open and races out in his pajamas. A crane that is at the base of the hill is startled and takes off with what I call the "pterodactyl cry" of protest. Paul scampers right back in. Its funny explaining birds and caterpillars and worms and grasshoppers/crickets etc. to your never-exposed-before children.
Yesterday we went to a local church bazaar and ALL the children discovered that they love homemade doughnuts. There are apple festivals abounding and the trees are starting to emerge in their show of fall colors.
And I just embrace it all. The wonder, the colors, the joy of pillow talk with my spouse, my children . . . my life. How marvelous that God put me on this adventure. We're headed for a large get-together with other adoptive families in the Madison area today. I'm curious to see the interaction level of the boys - I KNOW Mary will be swept up quickly.
I'll keep you posted and will TAKE the camera.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Friday - Single Parent Day
I was rather dreading today. Its not like Marty has a LOT of time home lately with the children awake but tonight he wasn't going to make it home before they were tucked in bed. Things get crazy and while at times I can "go with the flow" there are other times when I find myself surprisingly rigid and unbending.
I wasn't sure how I would gauge the day. But Hahn came over in the morning. She is Marty's sister visiting from Florida with her daughter (from NM) and they are staying the block behind us at Mike and Sheryl's house. She offered to take ALL the children to the park behind us, thus allowing me the ability to fire up the lawnmower. I took to this task with gusto. I was able to work out any frustrations or such with the ragtag flowerbeds that were long dormant. I saw far too many frogs of various sizes and varieties fleeing and would try to avoid confrontation. I began to perspire and that just felt MARVELOUS. I was free. I was accomplishing something that would show for a couple of days (instead of housework which may last 15 minutes). I felt and feel refresh and invigorated. Thank you Hahn!
Then a dear friend Julie P. that I met through our adoption of Julia came over to bring four totes of clothes for the boys. Wow - and once again I cannot say "gently used" as there were things in there that still had tags. My boys can be picky though and I thought it might be best to have them assess before being greedy over such nice things. Chaos ensued. One bin would be opened and things that were too small were being tussled over. Pants were worn on the head and there was one darling jean skirt that Samuel had a particular passion for. It was wild there for a bit.
Hahn and Jenny returned and it got a mite more hectic before it began to calm down. I had actually never met my niece before and afraid that I was more than a bit distracted - but sure we'll get a time to visit in before she leaves. Both Jenny and Paul have reminded me today that I have been lax in taking pictures but at the moment I am not able to locate my camera . . . one was damaged during the trip and the other I have hidden from apparently myself as the guys think electronics are NEAT and since they don't really have the concept of possessions, they also have trouble with boundaries. I'll get on that . . . as Scarlett would say "tomorrow."
After a bit things got more settled. The children were tired and I led them back for a REST (we don't say nap around here as I don't require sleep as if they will just be still awhile they most likely will succumb quickly). Julia was out first and Mary crept her way into the boys' room. This of course resulted in conflict as three children usually mean that one is excluded. That "one" became Samuel and Paul and Mary would shift from top to bottom bunk readily to avoid Samuel and I just ached at seeing his hurt. He's always had his brother and this upstart of a sister was elbowing her way in and him out for the moment.
I carried him out and into the living room to continue visiting with Julie. Samuel then crawled from my arms to hers and settled in and was asleep in no time. I think Julie enjoyed my snuggler. Mary and Paul never did sleep but then again . . . they are even more tired tonight. Hooray!!!
After Julie left we had some time to regroup and I admit . . . I used DVDs to entertain for a mite. Two bags of microwave popcorn in the middle of the floor and The Incredibles then the Garfield Tale of Two Kitties had my children for the most part entertained.Dinner became a smorgasbord of various leftovers which the children thought was fabulous. I ended up eating their leftovers we had on hand. We ended the night with the lights dimmed and each child with a flashlight. Games of tag and chase became that much more animated and repeated warnings of "no light in the eyes".
Marty called before I had them in bed and I allowed them to stay up actually over an hour past their bedtime to be able to see their dad. It is such a kick to watch them greet him. For those that have not been to our house, our front living room window is centered in the room and is a bow-window. I had the curtains open although it was DARK and the children did not know Marty had arrived home. He was on the front porch peering in at them and gently tapped. I'm not sure who realized he was outside first but the joy escalated beyond measure in flash and he was given the royal greeting.
It was a good day. I still have to sort through the clothes but the house is still standing, dishes are done, laundry is almost caught up (the boys bath always entails washing another load of towels), and I'm not any the worse for wear, thanks to helpful friends and family.
Marty leaves for work once again early tomorrow but we are planning to explore more as a group. I'm pleased with this day and oh-so-grateful that I have a husband that adores his role of parent with me.
I wasn't sure how I would gauge the day. But Hahn came over in the morning. She is Marty's sister visiting from Florida with her daughter (from NM) and they are staying the block behind us at Mike and Sheryl's house. She offered to take ALL the children to the park behind us, thus allowing me the ability to fire up the lawnmower. I took to this task with gusto. I was able to work out any frustrations or such with the ragtag flowerbeds that were long dormant. I saw far too many frogs of various sizes and varieties fleeing and would try to avoid confrontation. I began to perspire and that just felt MARVELOUS. I was free. I was accomplishing something that would show for a couple of days (instead of housework which may last 15 minutes). I felt and feel refresh and invigorated. Thank you Hahn!
Then a dear friend Julie P. that I met through our adoption of Julia came over to bring four totes of clothes for the boys. Wow - and once again I cannot say "gently used" as there were things in there that still had tags. My boys can be picky though and I thought it might be best to have them assess before being greedy over such nice things. Chaos ensued. One bin would be opened and things that were too small were being tussled over. Pants were worn on the head and there was one darling jean skirt that Samuel had a particular passion for. It was wild there for a bit.
Hahn and Jenny returned and it got a mite more hectic before it began to calm down. I had actually never met my niece before and afraid that I was more than a bit distracted - but sure we'll get a time to visit in before she leaves. Both Jenny and Paul have reminded me today that I have been lax in taking pictures but at the moment I am not able to locate my camera . . . one was damaged during the trip and the other I have hidden from apparently myself as the guys think electronics are NEAT and since they don't really have the concept of possessions, they also have trouble with boundaries. I'll get on that . . . as Scarlett would say "tomorrow."
After a bit things got more settled. The children were tired and I led them back for a REST (we don't say nap around here as I don't require sleep as if they will just be still awhile they most likely will succumb quickly). Julia was out first and Mary crept her way into the boys' room. This of course resulted in conflict as three children usually mean that one is excluded. That "one" became Samuel and Paul and Mary would shift from top to bottom bunk readily to avoid Samuel and I just ached at seeing his hurt. He's always had his brother and this upstart of a sister was elbowing her way in and him out for the moment.
I carried him out and into the living room to continue visiting with Julie. Samuel then crawled from my arms to hers and settled in and was asleep in no time. I think Julie enjoyed my snuggler. Mary and Paul never did sleep but then again . . . they are even more tired tonight. Hooray!!!
After Julie left we had some time to regroup and I admit . . . I used DVDs to entertain for a mite. Two bags of microwave popcorn in the middle of the floor and The Incredibles then the Garfield Tale of Two Kitties had my children for the most part entertained.Dinner became a smorgasbord of various leftovers which the children thought was fabulous. I ended up eating their leftovers we had on hand. We ended the night with the lights dimmed and each child with a flashlight. Games of tag and chase became that much more animated and repeated warnings of "no light in the eyes".
Marty called before I had them in bed and I allowed them to stay up actually over an hour past their bedtime to be able to see their dad. It is such a kick to watch them greet him. For those that have not been to our house, our front living room window is centered in the room and is a bow-window. I had the curtains open although it was DARK and the children did not know Marty had arrived home. He was on the front porch peering in at them and gently tapped. I'm not sure who realized he was outside first but the joy escalated beyond measure in flash and he was given the royal greeting.
It was a good day. I still have to sort through the clothes but the house is still standing, dishes are done, laundry is almost caught up (the boys bath always entails washing another load of towels), and I'm not any the worse for wear, thanks to helpful friends and family.
Marty leaves for work once again early tomorrow but we are planning to explore more as a group. I'm pleased with this day and oh-so-grateful that I have a husband that adores his role of parent with me.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Yard work
I like gardening but usually at some point it ends up getting ahead of me and often times I am welcoming the more dormant phase of seasons so that I can cut down the straggling plants and plan for more dedication next year. This year I was concentrating on our trip to Ethiopia. Last year I was headed to China . . . a few years back I had pins in my hand/pinky and movement was limited. Yada, yada.
And since we returned from Ethiopia, Marty's job has taken a new dimension and he has recently found himself facing some meetings and conferences that have required him to be working longer hours and more days.
Some days I'm struggling to simply vacuum, dust, keep up with laundry and dishes (some days I don't struggle . . . I just don't do it - hehe). And we have over six acres. The garden around the house is not manicured (shoot I let one side go wild as well as back garden next to the detached garage). Just mowing is something that requires time and right now Marty is only here with the kids awake about two hours a day. Just logistics. It won't always be this way but right now it is simply what is. At times I'm feeling overwhelmed with the changing dynamics of family and the physical demands of the household, much less the emotional . . .
And I feel guilty because I can't help but think of the struggles here pale in comparison to the joys. I'm getting to witness and live the peaks and discoveries and such. He gets to come home when I'm tired and looking for his assistance and he's taking up slack here when he probably would prefer to have some time to simply chill.
Yet I digress. (You can at least ACT surprised) This spring we had the great mulch debate. I was planning on taking the 1 hour a day I utilized the year I was most successful at keeping the plants alive for the spring/summer/fall. I wanted to make sure I had plenty of mulch. I had a number in mind and Marty about choked. He was firm on his lower estimation. I am the gardener . . . I pleaded my case. He told me we could order more. I relented. And I was determined to move that mulch off the driveway and started in earnest.
I had my trusty wheelbarrow and each day I set a simple goal of 10 loads a day. I did it. I did good with weeding and mulching and within a week the front and one side of the house was complete. Marty was pleased. The mulch pile was lessened by probably half. I relished my accomplishment and planned to continue. It rained. I procrastinated. The wheelbarrow was moved back to the detached garage. I got interested in . . . anything but mulch and weeding.
So the other day Marty says something about we need to get the mulch moved before winter because it'll just make a huge pile of ice/snow that is blocking vital driveway in winter. And I knew he had a point. It was my project and I decided that I was going to get going on that mulch. I can do that with four children 5-1/2 to 2-1/2. There are no spinning blades or motors or such involved in the process.
And so this morning I began to assess the situation. I had some grass and weeds infiltrating but if I added more mulch to what I had done earlier this spring, I could make yet another major dent in that pile that the children love playing on. I began in earnest.
Now Paul and Samuel are very cold-natured and they only wear long sleeves and pants except when they are in their soccer gear. Mary is in short sleeves and shorts and Julia is in a sleeveless Packers cheerleader dress and we start our odd attempt at mulching. I'm sure we could have turned heads in our odd assortment of gear as well as skin tones.
I begin to shovel into the deep wheelbarrow and Paul squeals in delight. He is hovering all around me like a gnat, watching intensely and then begins to try to assist. He locates a child-sized wheelbarrow and soon is matching me move for move. He is so very eager to assist and have purpose. Samuel and Mary are intrigued by their bikes/trikes and Julia vacillates between work and play. She's still a mite displaced by not having Mary's attentions. She loves Paul and not sold on Samuel . . . . he's just a mite too close in age for her comfort level. Its a hoot though because when I come home from taking the older kids to school they immediate go for a "rest" and Samuel asks to sleep with Julia. She climbs up in Mary's top bunk but is adamant that he go to his room. Samuel climbs up in Paul's bunk and then they chatter back and forth for a good 15 minutes animatedly and good-naturedly.
So, there is only so much room to work in the first flower bed. It is situated between the garage and the front door and is almost a half-oval and still pretty filled with daisy, columbine, bee balm, hosta, etc. I am trying to work my way in without doing damage and every time I turn to scoop another shovel from my wheelbarrow Paul is right there and we are bumping. At some point I give him my short-handled shovel and I get a long-handled one. He laughs with delight at this most precious gift. Julia immediately decides she wants a hand spade.
And we work, this odd group. I attempt to make another entrance to this particular plot so we can both work. And with Paul's next load he is right there next to me. And as close as he is to me . . . Julia is to him. It gets so very, very comical. He keeps saying "Excuse me, Julia" and she doesn't budge. He'll ask her to move. She smiles and digs her hand tool in his wheelbarrow. They at times simply move their mulch to my wheelbarrow. He looks at me and rolls his eyes and simply picks her up and moves her over two feet. He is so gentle though and she doesn't protest. At one point Paul needs water and Julia goes in with him to retrieve their labeled water bottles. When Paul goes into the house to emerge shirtless later on, Julia comes out with her dress now removed. I had to stop her on that one (laughing) . . . but you get the gist.
And in the end? We did a pretty good job. We got the first small bed mulched and there is a portion of the mulch pile gone. We have a sense of accomplishment. Paul is a wonderful assistant and Julia adores him. He's my shadow and she is his. Weather was nice and I so very much enjoyed being outside and not having a battalion of mosquitoes attack me. We removed the hanging baskets. We took down shepherd hooks. We made progress as a family. We bonded.
And when Marty came home for a little less than an hour before having to head back out - it was Mary who was seeking accolades for all of her hard work and effort!
And since we returned from Ethiopia, Marty's job has taken a new dimension and he has recently found himself facing some meetings and conferences that have required him to be working longer hours and more days.
Some days I'm struggling to simply vacuum, dust, keep up with laundry and dishes (some days I don't struggle . . . I just don't do it - hehe). And we have over six acres. The garden around the house is not manicured (shoot I let one side go wild as well as back garden next to the detached garage). Just mowing is something that requires time and right now Marty is only here with the kids awake about two hours a day. Just logistics. It won't always be this way but right now it is simply what is. At times I'm feeling overwhelmed with the changing dynamics of family and the physical demands of the household, much less the emotional . . .
And I feel guilty because I can't help but think of the struggles here pale in comparison to the joys. I'm getting to witness and live the peaks and discoveries and such. He gets to come home when I'm tired and looking for his assistance and he's taking up slack here when he probably would prefer to have some time to simply chill.
Yet I digress. (You can at least ACT surprised) This spring we had the great mulch debate. I was planning on taking the 1 hour a day I utilized the year I was most successful at keeping the plants alive for the spring/summer/fall. I wanted to make sure I had plenty of mulch. I had a number in mind and Marty about choked. He was firm on his lower estimation. I am the gardener . . . I pleaded my case. He told me we could order more. I relented. And I was determined to move that mulch off the driveway and started in earnest.
I had my trusty wheelbarrow and each day I set a simple goal of 10 loads a day. I did it. I did good with weeding and mulching and within a week the front and one side of the house was complete. Marty was pleased. The mulch pile was lessened by probably half. I relished my accomplishment and planned to continue. It rained. I procrastinated. The wheelbarrow was moved back to the detached garage. I got interested in . . . anything but mulch and weeding.
So the other day Marty says something about we need to get the mulch moved before winter because it'll just make a huge pile of ice/snow that is blocking vital driveway in winter. And I knew he had a point. It was my project and I decided that I was going to get going on that mulch. I can do that with four children 5-1/2 to 2-1/2. There are no spinning blades or motors or such involved in the process.
And so this morning I began to assess the situation. I had some grass and weeds infiltrating but if I added more mulch to what I had done earlier this spring, I could make yet another major dent in that pile that the children love playing on. I began in earnest.
Now Paul and Samuel are very cold-natured and they only wear long sleeves and pants except when they are in their soccer gear. Mary is in short sleeves and shorts and Julia is in a sleeveless Packers cheerleader dress and we start our odd attempt at mulching. I'm sure we could have turned heads in our odd assortment of gear as well as skin tones.
I begin to shovel into the deep wheelbarrow and Paul squeals in delight. He is hovering all around me like a gnat, watching intensely and then begins to try to assist. He locates a child-sized wheelbarrow and soon is matching me move for move. He is so very eager to assist and have purpose. Samuel and Mary are intrigued by their bikes/trikes and Julia vacillates between work and play. She's still a mite displaced by not having Mary's attentions. She loves Paul and not sold on Samuel . . . . he's just a mite too close in age for her comfort level. Its a hoot though because when I come home from taking the older kids to school they immediate go for a "rest" and Samuel asks to sleep with Julia. She climbs up in Mary's top bunk but is adamant that he go to his room. Samuel climbs up in Paul's bunk and then they chatter back and forth for a good 15 minutes animatedly and good-naturedly.
So, there is only so much room to work in the first flower bed. It is situated between the garage and the front door and is almost a half-oval and still pretty filled with daisy, columbine, bee balm, hosta, etc. I am trying to work my way in without doing damage and every time I turn to scoop another shovel from my wheelbarrow Paul is right there and we are bumping. At some point I give him my short-handled shovel and I get a long-handled one. He laughs with delight at this most precious gift. Julia immediately decides she wants a hand spade.
And we work, this odd group. I attempt to make another entrance to this particular plot so we can both work. And with Paul's next load he is right there next to me. And as close as he is to me . . . Julia is to him. It gets so very, very comical. He keeps saying "Excuse me, Julia" and she doesn't budge. He'll ask her to move. She smiles and digs her hand tool in his wheelbarrow. They at times simply move their mulch to my wheelbarrow. He looks at me and rolls his eyes and simply picks her up and moves her over two feet. He is so gentle though and she doesn't protest. At one point Paul needs water and Julia goes in with him to retrieve their labeled water bottles. When Paul goes into the house to emerge shirtless later on, Julia comes out with her dress now removed. I had to stop her on that one (laughing) . . . but you get the gist.
And in the end? We did a pretty good job. We got the first small bed mulched and there is a portion of the mulch pile gone. We have a sense of accomplishment. Paul is a wonderful assistant and Julia adores him. He's my shadow and she is his. Weather was nice and I so very much enjoyed being outside and not having a battalion of mosquitoes attack me. We removed the hanging baskets. We took down shepherd hooks. We made progress as a family. We bonded.
And when Marty came home for a little less than an hour before having to head back out - it was Mary who was seeking accolades for all of her hard work and effort!
Never wake a sleeping bear
I've been accused of being too "sunshiney" in the mornings by former coworkers. In fact it downright irritated some (hi Tricia). I tease Marty about his inability to communicate in the mornings and his disdain for light sources during his sleep cycle or early waking.
And I've been able to wake pretty much instantaneously. Maybe from working odd shifts/hours for so long. Shoot, I would be at work by 5 a.m. on my last shift so I could pad downstairs and have the computers fired up and headphones on without much more than a blink of an eye.
But now . . . I need my sleep. Six hours is necessary and anything less is putting my body in touch with my own "inner bear" to be dealt with. Apparently they did not tell my Ethiopian-born sons that you do not wake a sleeping bear.
I know I could head to bed shortly after they do, but that is MY TIME to straighten, wash/shower, mop, dust, correspond, maybe even (gasp) watch a TV show, unwind, read my Bible or current study lesson, etc. I often am too wound up mentally to simply drop it at that point.
So it is often 11-midnight when I climb under the covers with Marty. Its funny that we used to have those phone conversations that extended into the wee hours when we were long-distance in our relationship and I used to yearn to be able to see him during these. Hehe - now we may begin a conversation in earnest but once we are horizontal there is the distinct possibility that one of us will fade into oblivion quickly.
I used to be able to do without sleep or get by on so very little sleep. Shoot, I simply cannot anymore. Maybe all the years of single-parenting with two jobs and late night calls to Marty took their toll. Maybe its age. Regardless . . . I NEED SLEEP.
So when I waken to LOUD chatter and boys flying off the top bunk onto the floor, the staccato laughter of Samuel, a horrid thump-thumping which ends up being the guys yanking on the antique dresser drawer that has become whompy-jawed in their efforts . . . I AM NOT HAPPY. It is not yet 6 a.m. I head to their room and find the boys mid dresser assault and Mary is perched on the top bunk with her head propped in her hands I let them know in no uncertain terms that the behavior is not considered acceptable and I do not appreciate the early hour or the assault. I climb BACK in bed. And I hear giggles. Then the laughter. The volume picks up. The chatter continues. Jumping ensues. I am facing Marty in bed (he's on his back) and I actually have my back to the bedroom door. I snap.
"HUSH" I scream. It quietens down.
And picks right back up. I hear Julia begin to stir and I am now transformed into ANGRY Mama bear.
I get back to the boys' room and tell them how I feel about this intrusion and shut the door with a resounding slam.
I climb back into bed and there is a familiar shake to the bed. Marty is giggling at me . . .
He asks if I should further yell from our bed could I please at least turn my head? Julia plods in our room. The alarm goes off and the children snicker from the room next door.
At least my less than desirable reaction has a positive effect on my usually slower-to-be-happy in the morning husband. He shakes his head at me and chides me good-naturedly. I have to see the humor.
When I finally rise the boys are already outside and I hear the bicycles whizzing on the driveway that wraps around the house. I head to the laundry and am removing the load from the dryer when Paul steps in the house.
"HUSH!" he exclaims upon seeing me standing there as he races to me with outstretched arms and a waiting smile, hug, and kiss.
Ahhh, they may not have learned not to wake a sleeping bear - but then again - they have all the tools necessary to tame it once it does.
And I've been able to wake pretty much instantaneously. Maybe from working odd shifts/hours for so long. Shoot, I would be at work by 5 a.m. on my last shift so I could pad downstairs and have the computers fired up and headphones on without much more than a blink of an eye.
But now . . . I need my sleep. Six hours is necessary and anything less is putting my body in touch with my own "inner bear" to be dealt with. Apparently they did not tell my Ethiopian-born sons that you do not wake a sleeping bear.
I know I could head to bed shortly after they do, but that is MY TIME to straighten, wash/shower, mop, dust, correspond, maybe even (gasp) watch a TV show, unwind, read my Bible or current study lesson, etc. I often am too wound up mentally to simply drop it at that point.
So it is often 11-midnight when I climb under the covers with Marty. Its funny that we used to have those phone conversations that extended into the wee hours when we were long-distance in our relationship and I used to yearn to be able to see him during these. Hehe - now we may begin a conversation in earnest but once we are horizontal there is the distinct possibility that one of us will fade into oblivion quickly.
I used to be able to do without sleep or get by on so very little sleep. Shoot, I simply cannot anymore. Maybe all the years of single-parenting with two jobs and late night calls to Marty took their toll. Maybe its age. Regardless . . . I NEED SLEEP.
So when I waken to LOUD chatter and boys flying off the top bunk onto the floor, the staccato laughter of Samuel, a horrid thump-thumping which ends up being the guys yanking on the antique dresser drawer that has become whompy-jawed in their efforts . . . I AM NOT HAPPY. It is not yet 6 a.m. I head to their room and find the boys mid dresser assault and Mary is perched on the top bunk with her head propped in her hands I let them know in no uncertain terms that the behavior is not considered acceptable and I do not appreciate the early hour or the assault. I climb BACK in bed. And I hear giggles. Then the laughter. The volume picks up. The chatter continues. Jumping ensues. I am facing Marty in bed (he's on his back) and I actually have my back to the bedroom door. I snap.
"HUSH" I scream. It quietens down.
And picks right back up. I hear Julia begin to stir and I am now transformed into ANGRY Mama bear.
I get back to the boys' room and tell them how I feel about this intrusion and shut the door with a resounding slam.
I climb back into bed and there is a familiar shake to the bed. Marty is giggling at me . . .
He asks if I should further yell from our bed could I please at least turn my head? Julia plods in our room. The alarm goes off and the children snicker from the room next door.
At least my less than desirable reaction has a positive effect on my usually slower-to-be-happy in the morning husband. He shakes his head at me and chides me good-naturedly. I have to see the humor.
When I finally rise the boys are already outside and I hear the bicycles whizzing on the driveway that wraps around the house. I head to the laundry and am removing the load from the dryer when Paul steps in the house.
"HUSH!" he exclaims upon seeing me standing there as he races to me with outstretched arms and a waiting smile, hug, and kiss.
Ahhh, they may not have learned not to wake a sleeping bear - but then again - they have all the tools necessary to tame it once it does.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Julia is going to be . . .
We received a call from Zor Temple today . . . the Shriner's in Madison that arrange our marvelous transportation from Janesville to Chicago each time Julia has an appointment at the Cleft Clinic at Shriner's Hospital. It is a marvelous service (I love each team member but Lee has an especially special place in my heart) as well as a phenomenal hospital.
Well, they have an awareness campaign over the University of Wisconsin campuses where the Shriner's are present at games and they have a flyer and try to highlight a child that has been affected by their outreach.
Would we consider allowing Julia to be a "princess" for the University of Wisconsin - Whitewater??? For those of you that do not realize, this is Marty's Alma mater!! We need to submit a short biography and can have her picture (or not). She may be part of a presentation.
It is 11/08/08 at Whitewater (about 13 miles from where we live) with a noon kickoff. How cool is that??
I ended up talking extensively with Lisa, the woman who called, because somehow we talked of how we had just returned from Ethiopia and she was supposed to have done a mission trip there next month (she could not afford the airfare though as it was a last minute notification).
So if anyone is going to see the UW-Whitewater game on 11/08/08, we'll be there. Poor Marty doesn't know anything about it yet, I felt confident that this was something that I didn't need to run by him first. It seems that I'm always filling up his "off" days with activities, but this is one that should be fantastic for the whole family. Whooo hoooo!
Well, they have an awareness campaign over the University of Wisconsin campuses where the Shriner's are present at games and they have a flyer and try to highlight a child that has been affected by their outreach.
Would we consider allowing Julia to be a "princess" for the University of Wisconsin - Whitewater??? For those of you that do not realize, this is Marty's Alma mater!! We need to submit a short biography and can have her picture (or not). She may be part of a presentation.
It is 11/08/08 at Whitewater (about 13 miles from where we live) with a noon kickoff. How cool is that??
I ended up talking extensively with Lisa, the woman who called, because somehow we talked of how we had just returned from Ethiopia and she was supposed to have done a mission trip there next month (she could not afford the airfare though as it was a last minute notification).
So if anyone is going to see the UW-Whitewater game on 11/08/08, we'll be there. Poor Marty doesn't know anything about it yet, I felt confident that this was something that I didn't need to run by him first. It seems that I'm always filling up his "off" days with activities, but this is one that should be fantastic for the whole family. Whooo hoooo!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
family dynamics
You know, sometimes I can blind myself to the truth. I tell myself that I haven't gained THAT much weight or that my gray hair is simply a sprinkling . . .
Or that my daughters would not be the instigator for disharmony in our family household.
Let me back this up. When we first arrived home with Julia she was a firecracker. She was less than 20 pounds and could have Mary cowering on the bed (where Julia could not climb) because she could break skin with her bites and was quite adept at hitting and pinching (as my cheeks can attest to). Through time and especially as Julia learned to speak/sign she was less frustrated and she and Mary developed a close sisterly relationship. They can still fight with passion but not physically.
Well there have been more incidents of late. Paul isn't always the compromising compliant playmate he was when he arrived (good for YOU, son). He doesn't always allow Mary to dictate what activity they will participate in and who is going to do exactly what and for how long. He will shout "NO" and either attach Mary or Julia's name. He can tease his siblings (Samuel included, ESPECIALLY Samuel included) and even mimic Julia's speech which I have not yet addressed as she doesn't seem to realize that he is laughing AT her. Sam? Sam is a scrapper and although his is much more of a wailer than fighter, he is not above hitting, shoving, kicking, or spitting. I have also caught him tattling on his sister when she was not even in the same area as him.
So when they boys kept tattling repeatedly (over 100 times a day) and mainly it was directed at Julia I at first was skeptical that she could be inflicting the injuries that she was being assigned blame for and I am frankly sick and tired of hearing " Mom?" and being expected to immediately stop whatever I am doing to go watch the pantomime of the offensive behavior and have her name assigned. I have used "time out" for both the culprit as well as the tattletale. I have ignored the behavior to try to discourage tattling as I have not witnessed the behavior and don't want to let a child get power-hungry for the ability to fabricate an offense to have control of removing a sibling from play.
But my eyes are open. Today we were outside and I was scooping dog poop and removing my long-dead hanging baskets and Paul sits down on the children's swing. Mary of course joins him and then Samuel joins her to completely fill this supposedly two-seat contraption. Julia approaches, squeals, and launches an attack or Samuel's head. I was appalled. I was dumbfounded.
I was guilty.
Samuel has been the most attention-seeking of the four children at home. He causes the most commotion and turmoil and has the most tantrums and such. His squeal can be heard at any time and often you cannot tell if he is doing his "fake cry" for attention or really in distress.
And here Julia is pommeling his head.
Furthermore during our speech therapy session Julia baited her brother. She extended a hand to offer a token gift and when he reached for it she shrieked and struck at him. Her blow did not land but I was taken aback at her actions. And yet later in the session she positioned herself to kick him and shrieked when he was simply . . . there. We stopped the therapy twice for her to lament the situation.
And I didn't give Samuel the benefit of the doubt for all his tattling. He has made it up that I know of twice but I have probably overlooked far, far, far more. No wonder he's been cranky! I'd be cranky too!! I knew that Julia was having trouble adjusting but I was allowing her the power to intimidate her older brothers.
So I'm trying to find that balance of not allowing myself to become referee yet teaching the kids to work out their differences without interfering. How do you do that?
I can't always be watching closely with needing to prepare meals and wash dishes and clean house/do laundry. But I need to be more watchful and maybe do some of the other tasks while they sleep.
I'm so sorry Samuel. I feel like I let him down because he was trying to tell me . . . shoot he DID tell me and I ignored him. Yet he seems to forgive me my imperfections and embrace that I have finally SEEN the situation.
Just another reason to love my children. I am supposed to be teaching them, but they are sure teaching me what I feel is so much more.
Or that my daughters would not be the instigator for disharmony in our family household.
Let me back this up. When we first arrived home with Julia she was a firecracker. She was less than 20 pounds and could have Mary cowering on the bed (where Julia could not climb) because she could break skin with her bites and was quite adept at hitting and pinching (as my cheeks can attest to). Through time and especially as Julia learned to speak/sign she was less frustrated and she and Mary developed a close sisterly relationship. They can still fight with passion but not physically.
Well there have been more incidents of late. Paul isn't always the compromising compliant playmate he was when he arrived (good for YOU, son). He doesn't always allow Mary to dictate what activity they will participate in and who is going to do exactly what and for how long. He will shout "NO" and either attach Mary or Julia's name. He can tease his siblings (Samuel included, ESPECIALLY Samuel included) and even mimic Julia's speech which I have not yet addressed as she doesn't seem to realize that he is laughing AT her. Sam? Sam is a scrapper and although his is much more of a wailer than fighter, he is not above hitting, shoving, kicking, or spitting. I have also caught him tattling on his sister when she was not even in the same area as him.
So when they boys kept tattling repeatedly (over 100 times a day) and mainly it was directed at Julia I at first was skeptical that she could be inflicting the injuries that she was being assigned blame for and I am frankly sick and tired of hearing " Mom?" and being expected to immediately stop whatever I am doing to go watch the pantomime of the offensive behavior and have her name assigned. I have used "time out" for both the culprit as well as the tattletale. I have ignored the behavior to try to discourage tattling as I have not witnessed the behavior and don't want to let a child get power-hungry for the ability to fabricate an offense to have control of removing a sibling from play.
But my eyes are open. Today we were outside and I was scooping dog poop and removing my long-dead hanging baskets and Paul sits down on the children's swing. Mary of course joins him and then Samuel joins her to completely fill this supposedly two-seat contraption. Julia approaches, squeals, and launches an attack or Samuel's head. I was appalled. I was dumbfounded.
I was guilty.
Samuel has been the most attention-seeking of the four children at home. He causes the most commotion and turmoil and has the most tantrums and such. His squeal can be heard at any time and often you cannot tell if he is doing his "fake cry" for attention or really in distress.
And here Julia is pommeling his head.
Furthermore during our speech therapy session Julia baited her brother. She extended a hand to offer a token gift and when he reached for it she shrieked and struck at him. Her blow did not land but I was taken aback at her actions. And yet later in the session she positioned herself to kick him and shrieked when he was simply . . . there. We stopped the therapy twice for her to lament the situation.
And I didn't give Samuel the benefit of the doubt for all his tattling. He has made it up that I know of twice but I have probably overlooked far, far, far more. No wonder he's been cranky! I'd be cranky too!! I knew that Julia was having trouble adjusting but I was allowing her the power to intimidate her older brothers.
So I'm trying to find that balance of not allowing myself to become referee yet teaching the kids to work out their differences without interfering. How do you do that?
I can't always be watching closely with needing to prepare meals and wash dishes and clean house/do laundry. But I need to be more watchful and maybe do some of the other tasks while they sleep.
I'm so sorry Samuel. I feel like I let him down because he was trying to tell me . . . shoot he DID tell me and I ignored him. Yet he seems to forgive me my imperfections and embrace that I have finally SEEN the situation.
Just another reason to love my children. I am supposed to be teaching them, but they are sure teaching me what I feel is so much more.
Solomon
I hesitated even sharing this post. It is not something that I have ever done before or will likely do again. I was on the way to picking up Paul and Mary from school and noticed a man walking along the rural Highway. Something about him peaked my interested. Maybe the fact that he was a black man in this homogenous (white) area or his shock of white hair. He was not hitchhiking and carried a backpack - the camping type. I looked for a vehicle but somehow knew that he was a traveler and not stranded. From within I knew that I needed to offer assistance. I began praying. I picked up the two oldest children and began the approximately six mile journey back home.
Now I needed to run to the store (out of bananas again as well as needing a giant fruit-fix) so was planning on heading into Jefferson (our county seat) to the nearest grocery anyway. I began to explain to the children that I felt led to ask if I could assist this man. Now I know all the dangers and perils and that I could have been leading my children into a potentially dangerous situation but I could not deny the urging coming from within. As I approached the area where I had seen the man I noted that there was not any car behind me (not exactly unusual in that it is a rural area). I did not immediately see him and was feeling relieved that he had already received a ride (certainly he did not stop as there is NOTHING but a few farms scattered) and suddenly he came into view. I continued praying and pulled over.
The man was appreciative of the offer and initially tried to open the door to the back and I had him sit in the passenger seat. We introduced ourselves and through a very distinct and familiar accent I learned my guest's name was Solomon. A beautiful Biblical name -no? And I just had to ask.
And where is Solomon from? You knew probably as soon as I did. Solomon is from Ethiopia. He has been in America for four years and five months. He is traveling our country to see everything that he can and experience as much as possible before settling down. He is a nomad on a journey of epic proportions. He detailed his journeys in a booming voice with such joy and animation. I learned of his stops and how he has seen my country in ways that I could only dream of. He works at factories or for individuals for a period of time to collect enough money to push on to the next leg. He was currently traveling from Milwaukee to Madison, Wisconsin. I told him that I was headed to Jefferson and could take him that far and he was grateful.
We talked of our recent trip to his country and he was pleased to see our sons in their car seats. When he spoke to them in Amharic - they refused to respond. I had noticed this even on our return flights home that they would withdraw when spoken to often and if they DID respond, it would be in very soft replies or simply with the eyebrow-raise or the sharp intake of breath. Solomon asked what their birth names were and commented (like Helen) that they were most probably from the Tigray (Tigre) region of Ethiopia and then told me more of the region and the people.
The highway was closed in two different sections in Jefferson and I knew it, so I took Solomon further than he asked to alleviate him from having to maneuver the long detour. Julia had decided that this man talked too loud and had begun holding her ears and protesting.
After Solomon left my children returned to their normal post-nap/school state and we continued on our way for refreshments and such. Its funny how once your eyes are opened that you find your lives touched in so very many ways. I have thought of Solomon often today and wondered if he reached his next destination yet. He's been to 23 states so far and that is . . . he has experienced them. He laughed at people he has met that fly back and forth between destinations. He is a free spirit with a zest for adventure and happy to simply have the experience and ability to be able to embrace life. I wish I could be more like him - rather than lamenting having to vacuum a third time during the day, appreciate that I have a home, vacuum, and the children and pets to make the task necessary.
In so very many ways Solomon is so very wise. He isn't building up his treasures here on earth - he's spreading his joy. He tells me maybe in a few more years he will head back to Florida where he believes he will make his home.
I feel richer just from our 1/2 hour encounter.
Now I needed to run to the store (out of bananas again as well as needing a giant fruit-fix) so was planning on heading into Jefferson (our county seat) to the nearest grocery anyway. I began to explain to the children that I felt led to ask if I could assist this man. Now I know all the dangers and perils and that I could have been leading my children into a potentially dangerous situation but I could not deny the urging coming from within. As I approached the area where I had seen the man I noted that there was not any car behind me (not exactly unusual in that it is a rural area). I did not immediately see him and was feeling relieved that he had already received a ride (certainly he did not stop as there is NOTHING but a few farms scattered) and suddenly he came into view. I continued praying and pulled over.
The man was appreciative of the offer and initially tried to open the door to the back and I had him sit in the passenger seat. We introduced ourselves and through a very distinct and familiar accent I learned my guest's name was Solomon. A beautiful Biblical name -no? And I just had to ask.
And where is Solomon from? You knew probably as soon as I did. Solomon is from Ethiopia. He has been in America for four years and five months. He is traveling our country to see everything that he can and experience as much as possible before settling down. He is a nomad on a journey of epic proportions. He detailed his journeys in a booming voice with such joy and animation. I learned of his stops and how he has seen my country in ways that I could only dream of. He works at factories or for individuals for a period of time to collect enough money to push on to the next leg. He was currently traveling from Milwaukee to Madison, Wisconsin. I told him that I was headed to Jefferson and could take him that far and he was grateful.
We talked of our recent trip to his country and he was pleased to see our sons in their car seats. When he spoke to them in Amharic - they refused to respond. I had noticed this even on our return flights home that they would withdraw when spoken to often and if they DID respond, it would be in very soft replies or simply with the eyebrow-raise or the sharp intake of breath. Solomon asked what their birth names were and commented (like Helen) that they were most probably from the Tigray (Tigre) region of Ethiopia and then told me more of the region and the people.
The highway was closed in two different sections in Jefferson and I knew it, so I took Solomon further than he asked to alleviate him from having to maneuver the long detour. Julia had decided that this man talked too loud and had begun holding her ears and protesting.
After Solomon left my children returned to their normal post-nap/school state and we continued on our way for refreshments and such. Its funny how once your eyes are opened that you find your lives touched in so very many ways. I have thought of Solomon often today and wondered if he reached his next destination yet. He's been to 23 states so far and that is . . . he has experienced them. He laughed at people he has met that fly back and forth between destinations. He is a free spirit with a zest for adventure and happy to simply have the experience and ability to be able to embrace life. I wish I could be more like him - rather than lamenting having to vacuum a third time during the day, appreciate that I have a home, vacuum, and the children and pets to make the task necessary.
In so very many ways Solomon is so very wise. He isn't building up his treasures here on earth - he's spreading his joy. He tells me maybe in a few more years he will head back to Florida where he believes he will make his home.
I feel richer just from our 1/2 hour encounter.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Two weeks home
Yesterday late evening marked our two week anniversary for being together as a family. Hehe - I guess for Samuel it was actually this morning since he slept through arriving home, being placed in his bed, and meeting his sisters - but it has now been two weeks.
Wow. So many changes. We have been so very blessed. Blessed by family and community that has embraced us. This weekend we spent a good bit of time going through the donations and presents of clothes and realize that we lack for NOTHING. Our children have so many nice, wonderful, stylish things. Paul is still amazed at the volume of clothes that are HIS. He doesn't have to share (although it is funny because if things are not earmarked specifically both boys will try to wear each others things and Sam swims in his clothes and Paul looks comical with capri-looking jeans). Its fine until Paul wears Sam's underwear and that gets a little uncomfortable.
Thursday morning Mike and Sheryl arrived with a laundry basket overflowing with gifts from Marty and Mike's church. There were glorious sunflowers and baked goodies as well as a complete dinner, clothes, even towels and brand new Packer's sweatshirts. It had a WalMart gift card as well as books and crayons and . . . oh so much. We have been welcomed into the family of church, community, and family and are humbled by the outreach.
Paul has become more a boy that the caregiver we first met. He can be sloppy and not put his things away (which we did NOT see before). I like this newer, more relaxed child. I may miss his not picking up his clothes but I do not miss feeling that he has a personal agenda that he needs to fulfill. He's a boy, a child. I am trying to find that balance between his striving for perfection and wanting to please everyone and simply letting him be a normal, active boy. He can aggravate the other kids mercilessly. His laugh is genuine. He delights in discovery. He screams like a girl - very high-pitched and it sounds very odd. He is scared of spiders and today was out-of-breath with discovering a snake (another fear). Marty went outside to discover an earthworm trying to make his way across the rain-covered driveway. I told Paul that worms are good and that I liked them for my garden and he could not hide his disgust at the very thought of such. Hehe. He has started school and loves it. His artwork is very meticulous and he draws arms, legs, feet, and faces which are happy. He rides the zip line at the school playground and we went after hours so that he could demonstrate his mastery. He chides Mary at her shall we say less accomplished penmanship, drawing skills, and especially her hesitancy regarding that zip line.
Samuel? Oh my goodness. We are seeing much progress with our youngest son. First of all Sam has an infectious smile and laugh and will use dance/gyrations to try to get out of sticky situations. He is a snuggler. He is a handful. His voice is at about the level of PeeWee Herman for those that remember him . . . very loud for this 26 pound wonder. He does not like being told what to do or especially "no" and will ignore anything he doesn't want to hear. When we first met Samuel he was very whiny and cried almost continually if he didn't get what he wanted (our digital camera, our video camera, anything food related or any object that he didn't currently have whether it was a computer, watch, toy, pen, etc.). It was harder getting close to Samuel at first because he was simply not very pleasant to be around with his constant screaming and tantrums. But that was the OLD Sam. We are still working out some kinks and bumps but Marty commented the other day that he thought Samuel was starting to "get" him. He is learning that crying isn't going to win him the prize he is coveting and that is hard to grasp after 3-1/2 years of it being a successful tool. With accentuating the positive traits (raising the toilet seat, listening after being told "no" 13 times, using words instead of wails and pointing) we have seen the neatest little guy emerging. He is delightful. He is affectionate. He is learning to accept that it is not "anything goes" anymore and is showing that he can try to seek acceptable behavior. I have started lying down with both Sam and Julia in our bed for afternoon nap and love that time to hold them close - he will fall asleep within minutes.
Both boys adore their baths. They are showing they have clothing preferences (Paul refused a Packer sweatshirt today much to Marty's chagrin). They are talking more and more in English and are teaching me more and more Amharic. They delight in seeing pictures from their orphanage and following the blogs of their friends they had from Ethiopia. They share the names of other children and tell me things about them (one little guy ate a spider, if they have a brother or sister, if they tease or are funny).
Their capacity to love is amazing. I get hugs and kisses freely and without asking. Marty's arrival home is a source of delight beyond imagination. He snuck in today and they spotted him and shrieked and chased him about the house before he was cornered with laughter and leaps and hugs and such.
And I'm reminded of how I'm told I'm doing such a marvelous things for these kids. Shoot - they lift my soul and inspire me. They mirror God's love and depth and mercy and joy. They teach me so much about myself as well as about hope and faith.
I have to repeat. I am the one blessed in this.
Blessings to all.
Wow. So many changes. We have been so very blessed. Blessed by family and community that has embraced us. This weekend we spent a good bit of time going through the donations and presents of clothes and realize that we lack for NOTHING. Our children have so many nice, wonderful, stylish things. Paul is still amazed at the volume of clothes that are HIS. He doesn't have to share (although it is funny because if things are not earmarked specifically both boys will try to wear each others things and Sam swims in his clothes and Paul looks comical with capri-looking jeans). Its fine until Paul wears Sam's underwear and that gets a little uncomfortable.
Thursday morning Mike and Sheryl arrived with a laundry basket overflowing with gifts from Marty and Mike's church. There were glorious sunflowers and baked goodies as well as a complete dinner, clothes, even towels and brand new Packer's sweatshirts. It had a WalMart gift card as well as books and crayons and . . . oh so much. We have been welcomed into the family of church, community, and family and are humbled by the outreach.
Paul has become more a boy that the caregiver we first met. He can be sloppy and not put his things away (which we did NOT see before). I like this newer, more relaxed child. I may miss his not picking up his clothes but I do not miss feeling that he has a personal agenda that he needs to fulfill. He's a boy, a child. I am trying to find that balance between his striving for perfection and wanting to please everyone and simply letting him be a normal, active boy. He can aggravate the other kids mercilessly. His laugh is genuine. He delights in discovery. He screams like a girl - very high-pitched and it sounds very odd. He is scared of spiders and today was out-of-breath with discovering a snake (another fear). Marty went outside to discover an earthworm trying to make his way across the rain-covered driveway. I told Paul that worms are good and that I liked them for my garden and he could not hide his disgust at the very thought of such. Hehe. He has started school and loves it. His artwork is very meticulous and he draws arms, legs, feet, and faces which are happy. He rides the zip line at the school playground and we went after hours so that he could demonstrate his mastery. He chides Mary at her shall we say less accomplished penmanship, drawing skills, and especially her hesitancy regarding that zip line.
Samuel? Oh my goodness. We are seeing much progress with our youngest son. First of all Sam has an infectious smile and laugh and will use dance/gyrations to try to get out of sticky situations. He is a snuggler. He is a handful. His voice is at about the level of PeeWee Herman for those that remember him . . . very loud for this 26 pound wonder. He does not like being told what to do or especially "no" and will ignore anything he doesn't want to hear. When we first met Samuel he was very whiny and cried almost continually if he didn't get what he wanted (our digital camera, our video camera, anything food related or any object that he didn't currently have whether it was a computer, watch, toy, pen, etc.). It was harder getting close to Samuel at first because he was simply not very pleasant to be around with his constant screaming and tantrums. But that was the OLD Sam. We are still working out some kinks and bumps but Marty commented the other day that he thought Samuel was starting to "get" him. He is learning that crying isn't going to win him the prize he is coveting and that is hard to grasp after 3-1/2 years of it being a successful tool. With accentuating the positive traits (raising the toilet seat, listening after being told "no" 13 times, using words instead of wails and pointing) we have seen the neatest little guy emerging. He is delightful. He is affectionate. He is learning to accept that it is not "anything goes" anymore and is showing that he can try to seek acceptable behavior. I have started lying down with both Sam and Julia in our bed for afternoon nap and love that time to hold them close - he will fall asleep within minutes.
Both boys adore their baths. They are showing they have clothing preferences (Paul refused a Packer sweatshirt today much to Marty's chagrin). They are talking more and more in English and are teaching me more and more Amharic. They delight in seeing pictures from their orphanage and following the blogs of their friends they had from Ethiopia. They share the names of other children and tell me things about them (one little guy ate a spider, if they have a brother or sister, if they tease or are funny).
Their capacity to love is amazing. I get hugs and kisses freely and without asking. Marty's arrival home is a source of delight beyond imagination. He snuck in today and they spotted him and shrieked and chased him about the house before he was cornered with laughter and leaps and hugs and such.
And I'm reminded of how I'm told I'm doing such a marvelous things for these kids. Shoot - they lift my soul and inspire me. They mirror God's love and depth and mercy and joy. They teach me so much about myself as well as about hope and faith.
I have to repeat. I am the one blessed in this.
Blessings to all.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Happy belated birthday - Marty
Wow. Another year and so many changes. One year ago on Marty's birthday first we crossed the international date line on our way home from China and he got some extra hours out of his special day, but then especially we landed in Los Angeles and Julia became an American citizen.
And this year we have not only Julia who doubled our number of children at home, but Paul and Samuel are with us already. Can you believe it?
And we haven't celebrated yet. I held the cards until sometime today. We're really pretty low key and a cake and ice cream signify the passage. I of course am happy because the 100 day age difference is now lessened by the fact that our ages "match" once again and all is right with the world.
I actually spent the morning we had designated for the zoo yesterday at the doctor's office because my eye infection is not getting better even with the prescription. I now have a combination treatment that I apply hourly while waking (one drop on even hours and the other on the odd hours). My eye was swollen/stuck shut again this morning but . . . we'll keep working on it. I'm just grateful that so far everyone else seems to be unaffected.
And the kids wore their Aunt Sheryl thin yesterday. She has never said they were horrid but I believe the term she used was "terrible" and that she will check caller ID before answering a phone call from me starting yesterday. Yowzer! She did add that Paul was the best one of the bunch. I'm sorry!!
We have rain this morning, the nice lazy slow rain that isn't yet the effects of Ike. No outing planned as I'm still pretty freakish-looking and its weepy. I have the baggies for the spent tissues and trying to contain any possible cross-contamination.
If it weren't raining I'd try to get some yard work done. As it is, I think I'll try getting a handle on either the girls' or boys' clothes and cull out the ones that are not currently fitting and find a PLACE for everything . . . so that each child knows what fits him/her. Poor Paul frequently wears Samuel's things I think simply for lack of knowing that there are clothes specifically for him alone. It doesn't really matter until I find him wearing 2T underwear and THAT can be a little constricting!!! :o)
We'll see about celebrating though. This is the first day since Labor Day that Marty hasn't had to go into work at least some of the day. We're showered and the children are rambunctious. Its a good kind though, we're still getting used to boys.
Of note, Julia and Mary slept in the top bunk together for the first time - I think because their brothers usually do in their room. They do emulate each other often.
I'm going to run. I'm showered and Marty is making breakfast although we've been up for hours. It has been marvelous just simply being family this lovely Saturday morning.
God bless.
And this year we have not only Julia who doubled our number of children at home, but Paul and Samuel are with us already. Can you believe it?
And we haven't celebrated yet. I held the cards until sometime today. We're really pretty low key and a cake and ice cream signify the passage. I of course am happy because the 100 day age difference is now lessened by the fact that our ages "match" once again and all is right with the world.
I actually spent the morning we had designated for the zoo yesterday at the doctor's office because my eye infection is not getting better even with the prescription. I now have a combination treatment that I apply hourly while waking (one drop on even hours and the other on the odd hours). My eye was swollen/stuck shut again this morning but . . . we'll keep working on it. I'm just grateful that so far everyone else seems to be unaffected.
And the kids wore their Aunt Sheryl thin yesterday. She has never said they were horrid but I believe the term she used was "terrible" and that she will check caller ID before answering a phone call from me starting yesterday. Yowzer! She did add that Paul was the best one of the bunch. I'm sorry!!
We have rain this morning, the nice lazy slow rain that isn't yet the effects of Ike. No outing planned as I'm still pretty freakish-looking and its weepy. I have the baggies for the spent tissues and trying to contain any possible cross-contamination.
If it weren't raining I'd try to get some yard work done. As it is, I think I'll try getting a handle on either the girls' or boys' clothes and cull out the ones that are not currently fitting and find a PLACE for everything . . . so that each child knows what fits him/her. Poor Paul frequently wears Samuel's things I think simply for lack of knowing that there are clothes specifically for him alone. It doesn't really matter until I find him wearing 2T underwear and THAT can be a little constricting!!! :o)
We'll see about celebrating though. This is the first day since Labor Day that Marty hasn't had to go into work at least some of the day. We're showered and the children are rambunctious. Its a good kind though, we're still getting used to boys.
Of note, Julia and Mary slept in the top bunk together for the first time - I think because their brothers usually do in their room. They do emulate each other often.
I'm going to run. I'm showered and Marty is making breakfast although we've been up for hours. It has been marvelous just simply being family this lovely Saturday morning.
God bless.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Purple
If you are blue with pink eye . . . does that make you purple? Yep, I got it again. What is weird is that this is exactly what happened last year when I returned from China. I made it through the trip okay and within a week had a raging case of pink eye.
Its better now . . . I have a TINY amount of eye drops that I'm using and will resort to the doctor if I just must. This morning I was just frustrated thinking . . . four kids in a waiting room? Four kids in an examining room? LOL!
Paul has asked twice if it is time for school (still the excited state, not fearful). We may try to eat EARLY and have pasta, THEN give the guys their bath before school. That should relax Samuel for his nap and then I can pry Paul out of his clothes. Funny guy dresses as he rises and if I don't hide his clothes from the evening before then they go right back on his body. Good for low laundry volumes . . . bad for mommy image at school! Haha!
On another positive note - we meet with our social worker tomorrow evening. She will officially gather the documents to begin the re adoption process. For those that are not familiar with Wisconsin law, although the adoption was finalized in Ethiopia - since we did not meet the boys prior to this happening (done by proxy) we now will RE-adopt in our state and then perform their final name change and citizenship procedures. Their names currently (as dictated by Ethiopian courts) are Abel Martin Phillipson and Tekleab Martin Phillipson (their birth first name, Marty's first name, our last name). After court they will be Paul Martin Phillipson and Samuel Michael Phillipson. They will get birth certificates. There will not be a need to continue keeping their adoption paperwork available at every turn.
Its not a huge deal for us but we will be able then to secure their citizenship and social security numbers in their final names. I hear them softly saying their names frequently . . . rolling off their tongue. Last night at the voting station a woman asked Paul "And what is your name?"
He said softly yet clearly "My name is Paul" and I wanted to cheer. Full sentences!
Its better now . . . I have a TINY amount of eye drops that I'm using and will resort to the doctor if I just must. This morning I was just frustrated thinking . . . four kids in a waiting room? Four kids in an examining room? LOL!
Paul has asked twice if it is time for school (still the excited state, not fearful). We may try to eat EARLY and have pasta, THEN give the guys their bath before school. That should relax Samuel for his nap and then I can pry Paul out of his clothes. Funny guy dresses as he rises and if I don't hide his clothes from the evening before then they go right back on his body. Good for low laundry volumes . . . bad for mommy image at school! Haha!
On another positive note - we meet with our social worker tomorrow evening. She will officially gather the documents to begin the re adoption process. For those that are not familiar with Wisconsin law, although the adoption was finalized in Ethiopia - since we did not meet the boys prior to this happening (done by proxy) we now will RE-adopt in our state and then perform their final name change and citizenship procedures. Their names currently (as dictated by Ethiopian courts) are Abel Martin Phillipson and Tekleab Martin Phillipson (their birth first name, Marty's first name, our last name). After court they will be Paul Martin Phillipson and Samuel Michael Phillipson. They will get birth certificates. There will not be a need to continue keeping their adoption paperwork available at every turn.
Its not a huge deal for us but we will be able then to secure their citizenship and social security numbers in their final names. I hear them softly saying their names frequently . . . rolling off their tongue. Last night at the voting station a woman asked Paul "And what is your name?"
He said softly yet clearly "My name is Paul" and I wanted to cheer. Full sentences!
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