Swim Team

This summer, with trepidation and angst, we signed Everett and Eli up for swim team. Practice every morning at 7. Meets twice a week.

Our summer traveling days were postponed with such a rigid schedule. The first meet fell on a Tuesday when relatives were in town. What a relief that we had so much support that first night! I had flashbacks to the triathalon from a few years ago. We had a little backpack with some snacks and a few chairs. The boys had a towel, goggles, and sported some new jammers (the real world would call these tight trunks). I felt prepared, but was amazed to see families rolling coolers into the meet. Kids racing around...it's 90 outside and 95 inside...what's the group huddling around the wall for? And did I bring a permanent marker? For what?!

Then Josiah starts running a fever and my grandma looks at me and says, I'll go home with your Aunt and we'll watch him.

I felt like vomiting the entire time. By the end of the season I wasn't rolling a cooler into the meet, but I did know what the crowds were about (looking at what event the kids were swimming) and why I need a permanent marker (to write event numbers on our kids' hands).

We aren't raising the next Mike Phelps, but I think next summer we'll have a few more swimmers on the summer team again.

Blankets for Ethiopia

Months ago I emailed Karen about the trip in November. I thought that if I started planning early, I might not scramble in the last few hours with trying to cram everything into my suitcases (or pay huge fees at the gate because all of the clothes were stuffed into my backpack and it was too heavy). I wanted to help with the trip even if I wasn't going. The Hopechest team in Ethiopia gave Karen a list of items that would be most helpful to the children. Included in the list were clothes, school supplies, medical supplies, and blankets. I immediately thought of how wonderful it would be to bring a handmade blanket to each one of the children at the care points. Most people don't realize that temperatures at night drop to mid-40s during the winter months in Addis Ababa. Many of the children sleep on a hard packed dirt floor; blankets will be treasured by the entire family.

My grandiose plans of beautiful twin size rag quilts were tempered by cost and luggage restrictions. I also wanted to involve those of you who can't sew (or who unknowingly allowed your sewing machine to rust in a damp basement). A few years ago, I made our children little fleece lap blankets for Christmas. They were delighted to have the bright beautiful blankets for the car trip the next morning. And (here's the kicker) they were so easy to make. Making blankets for three children is far easier than making blankets for approximately 300 children. This is where you all come in. I have been thinking and praying about this venture for a few months, not knowing whether I'd be going to Ethiopia, but always certain I wanted to be a part of the trip in some way. After months of working things out in my mind and bouncing ideas off of people this is what I've cooked up:

1-We would like the blankets' size to be 4 x 5. Fleece comes in 60 inch width (or thereabout), if you buy 2 lengths of 1.25-1.5 yards, then it will be approximately 4 x 5 when you finish. Once you have the fleece pieces, you just lay them on top of each other and snip three inches down, one to one and a half inches, all around the perimeter. You should end up with something that looks like a 1983 fringey fleece--think Darryl Hannahesque. Then tie knots with those two snipped edges. You will end up with a blanket that has about 3 inches of fringed knots around it. We have figured out that one suitcase will fit about 15 blankets (in space saver bags). Usually, we make these blankets double thickness. If you can find fleece that is cheap and thin, then getting a solid and pattern fabric would be wonderful. Otherwise, getting a very thick piece of fleece and tying the edges will also be fine. If they will be doubled up, getting thinner fleece will allow us to fit the anticipated 15 blankets into our luggage. Please, don't stress about this! The kids will be so happy to receive these blankets. If I get some blankets that are 6 inches smaller and some that are 6 inches larger--I won't write bad things about you on my blog! I just want them to be approximately the same size. Imagine if one child gets a 5 x 7 and the next gets a 3 x 4! That's my main concern--bringing enough for everyone and making sure they are getting close to the same thing.

If none of this makes sense, email me or leave me a comment!

2-I have a big family and moving has afforded me so many fantastic, supportive friends all over the country. BUT, I don't have 300 people to ask for help. This is the second part of my crazy scheme (as my dad would say). I need you all to talk to your friends and families and ask for their help. Then get back to me with a blanket "pledge". I'm planning on having a blanket tying party and I'm more than happy to help you coordinate the same thing. This is a wonderful service project that even very young children can be involved in! My local group of friends will each bring their selected fleece to the 'party' and we'll have a blast eating, tying, and praying over these special blankets.

I have been so encouraged to see the reaction so far from family and friends. I hope many of you will get involved! This is another opportunity for you to offer help in a big, tangible way. It's also a wonderful way to make people aware of needs across the world, perhaps they feel uncomfortable with giving money to an organization, but would be willing to donate something. I want to thank you now, for caring enough to read this long post!

Lastly, a video that goes step by step-it's a little long, but if I really didn't make sense and you've never made one of these...this is the detailed video you want!

Sally is Seven!

Sally's seventh birthday party will go down in history as the most wild party our family has ever thrown.

Hopefully.

It all started when she asked for a surprise party. I don't know what it is with these kids requesting a surprise party. The moment they ask for a surprise, it ceases to be a surprise party. Nevertheless, I proceeded to embrace the circus that we call life and embellish each one of the talents we have working around the circus idea. Jojo the strong man, Daddio the juggler, Everett the Great Magician, Elijah the lion tamer, and grandparents painting faces. My mom and sister made an appearance as clowns. My mom, infamous for taking things to the next level, wasn't satisfied with just making balloon animals. They made a last minute trip to wal-mart for clown clothes (dress shirts my dad is probably wearing to work now), face paint, and balloons. Then they watched youtube late into the night learning how to twist balloons into animals.

Sally was indeed surprised, as we enlisted her grandparents to take her shopping while we prepped for the party and all of her friends arrived.

All of the kids were having a blast, we were just finishing up with the circus show when thunder rumbled. We raced inside and Sally began opening gifts when my father-in-law said something I never thought I'd hear. "Apryl, the police are in your driveway."

Then the power went out.

We immediately lit the candles and the party never slowed down. Who knew that the police and a power outage wouldn't even be noticed by 20 children as long as cake is available?

Trees of Glory Well Project

As we walked down the hill to the river, Girma stopped to show us the well. He explained that the entire property used to have running water, not just a pump, but faucets, showers, even a pool! When the Japanese construction crew finished their work and left, the property was sorely vandalized and the well was destroyed.

As time passes and volunteer teams come; windows are replaced and walls are painted. Buildings that have sat in disrepair are being used. Simret, the director, has high hopes for the property. Her dreams are big and it seems they all hinge on getting that well repaired and functioning again. As it stands now, the staff has to fill jugs in the village spigot to provide water for 100 children during the day.

The bids for the project came in a few months ago. I sat at the computer overwhelmed by the cost. Then I thought about how overwhelming it would be to Simret. I'm sitting at my breakfast table, with one of our three laptops open, sipping a cup of coffee, enjoying the cool temperatures inside my house while it begins to heat up outside. I am the picture of middle class America. In all of my affluence, a price that is staggering to me must be completely incomprehensible to a woman standing in the middle of Ethiopia, without electricity or running water. The staff at Trees of Glory don't have access to the internet to let the rest of the world know about their plight. They are counting on us. Jessica Irvin shot a video of Simret and Girma talking about their need for the well to be repaired. Specifically, they thank US for partnering with them in their efforts. What a humbling thought! I'm overwhelmed and thinking that we cannot possibly raise the funds in a timely manner, but they are relying on God to provide the funding through us. Stressing that their ability to care for these children is made possible by our prayers and support.




Since I began this post several days ago, the situation has become dire. Karen emailed last night with an urgent request. She cited news reports that are calling this the most severe drought in 60 years. As the drought continues, the price of food goes higher and malnutrition quickly becomes starvation. From Karen's message:

This fresh-water well project is more urgent than ever for Trees of Glory. The well will be drilled deep enough to reach aquifers that are not readily affected by cyclical droughts or rainfall - and part of the plans for the well include irrigation systems for the fields and gardens at TOG.

Please consider funding this project - and please spread the word. This is something we can do right now to make a tangible difference for the kids and staff at TOG - AND in the surrounding villages! And please pray for Ethiopia and the entire horn of Africa as they once again weather drought and famine.

To make a donation:
Go to www.hopechest.org, click on GIVE
Click on DESIGNATED GIFT and specify a $ amount
In the Reference Number, specify ET2119000
In the Notes area, specify TOG WELL

I'm Going Back...again!

I'm stepping up to the microphone again to make an announcement.

"Ahem. Is this thing on?"

With butterflies of excitement, and just a little trepidation...

"I am going back to Ethiopia with Karen this November."

My dear husband is so tolerant and supportive. I know he has a million things that 'need' to be fixed (like the growing crack in the basement wall). I never had to tell him how important this trip is to me. Or to Jirigna. Or to our kids, who are watching how WE live our lives. He just knew.

I mentioned the upcoming trip and then that I need to make a decision soon. He looked at me for a long moment and said, "Of course. It really isn't that big of a deal."

A highly unusual response for him regarding something that is indeed a pretty big deal. I've said it before; he's my knight in wrinkled business casual.

I'm cooking up some plans on how we can be a big blessing to our wonderful friends in Ethiopia and all of the beautiful children that they care for. I can't wait to see them again and I can't wait to share with them blessings from my friends in the US!

There are limited spots available, if you think you would like to join us. It's sure to be an amazing time. Email Karen at kjwistrom@yahoo.com if you are interested--November 11-21.

Newest Family Members

This could be an exciting post about new family members of the human variety. Sadly, it's about family members from the furry and feathered world. I could have titled it, "How I found myself getting a cockatiel on Wednesday and kitten on Thursday."

When we visited close friends, we never expected Ella to spend the evening on the porch with a sweet, stray cat. A few weeks later, the stray had grown quite large around the belly. By now, the four little boys in the family had thoroughly initiated this mellow cat into their family. Though she still lived on the porch and was free to leave, she chose to call the cardboard box home. Then she welcomed five adorable kittens into the world.

The pleading began around our house before we even saw the litter. The day we visited, the kittens' eyes still weren't open. Their mellow mama allowed the kids to handle her new brood. My five immediately began making a case for their favorite to join our family.

How could I say no to them? A friend's comment kept ringing through my mind, "Our kids are only with us for such a short time, really. Why not build forts and have pets? That makes the memories."

So, we said we'd like the sweetest kitten that our friends had.

Two weeks later, another friend 'rescued' a cockatiel from being set free into the cold Ohio weather because he was "too loud." Elijah happened to be with me when we heard the story of this poor bird. He had mangled feet, very smart, but needing a home. Eli's parakeets died in late winter because of a gas leak (a story I never wrote). He has been asking for birds since, but I kept putting him off--unable to forget the sight of four parakeets dead on the bottom of the cage. I found myself listening to my friend share news of this cockatiel and watching Eli's eyes, wide with anticipation. When I told her about our birds, she gasped and said, "Oh, you must take Wally!"

When we brought Wally home he had just begun whistling at my friend's house. It was rumored that he had a dog friend in his previous home, but I was a little skeptical. We walked in the door with a cowering bird in a small cage. Manny raced to greet us and immediately Wally climbed onto the side of the cage. He started wolf whistling and making kissy sounds! Since then, we can tell if the dog is near the bird cage because Wally will start kissing and whistling to him. He only tolerates humans, but he loves the dog.

The kitten arrived and Manny became her stalker. He corners her and begins bathing her. She emerges sticky with dog slobber and looking humiliated. It's an interesting love triangle that has been created in the house with the addition of the cat and bird. The bird hisses at the cat, kisses at the dog; the dog could care less about the bird, but worries after the cat all day. When the kitten isn't being manhandled by children or the dog, she's sitting on the ground staring up at the bird.

Somehow, it all works.

Lego Olympics Around Our House

We missed the local Lego Olympics and pacified the upset family members by promising to do one at home. Only a few rules: no pre-made Lego creations and everything must be an original. Pretty simple family fun.

I awarded five prizes (mini-figures) for:
Most Original--Everett (2 ships, one with a tissue as a sail)
Most Functional--Elijah (Lego roller coaster and ship with working propeller)
Most Beautiful--Sally (House with palm trees, pond, and lawn mower)
Most Unusual--Josiah (What we called 'The Odd Couple', ninja and pig in a house)
Most Legos Used--Ella (Very large Lego town)

I had to add an honorable mention for Most Square because Seth participated; he didn't win a mini-figure. He also didn't spend the entire amount of time creating his large...square.

The kids had a blast. It ranked high on my list because it was something new, easy, and cheap.

Nothing but Trouble

Josiah is three. He's unbelievably adorable most of the time. Today, he sat down in front of me and told me this story. It was so strange that I had to immediately get it down.

"Once upon a time there was me. (So sweet.)

And a big bad wolf, but I was safe from the big bad wolf in my brick house. (The drama.)

But, there was a hole. (Oh, no!)

And it was too tiny for the wolf. (Sigh.)

So, I was really, really safe. The end."

It's the sweet cute times that enable the rest of the family to put of with his scandals. He cooks up schemes that only a three year old could execute. When he gets found out (because who else, may I ask, would dump a brand new bottle of body wash all over the tub?), he smiles, smirks, and rubs his chubby hands on my face. All is forgiven.

Last night, he told me he threw his banana down the tuba. Just, oh so matter of factly. As if we regularly dispose of trash in musical instruments. I laughed and then realized he's being completely serious. Everyone within earshot looked around for a clue about the 'tuba'. Then, I realized that he means the sousaphone that hangs out on the upstairs landing. Seth and Josiah ran upstairs and emptied the sousaphone of a brown banana peel, Buzz Lightyear figure, and many other long, lost toys. Evidently, Sir Cuteness has been dumping in the 'tuba' for quite a while.

On Wednesday, he began an obsession with urinating in public. It started with peeing on the deck at a friend's house. That night he was in front of the church we used to attend, which is located on the interstate. I was visited with ladies I haven't seen in ages, and the kids were all frolicking in front of the church sign. Except that one little boy...he's...PULLING DOWN HIS PANTS! Everett, thankfully, grabbed him, but the stream had already let loose and Everett's pants were sprayed in the ensuing battle. Both boys ended up urine soaked. Today, he revealed himself to the entire homeschool co-op at the park.

He's cute, even with his pants down. "Mommy, can I get a little push, please?"

Super Glue

We ran out of glue during the frenzied science fair preparations. Normally, this wouldn't cause concern, but Everett was mid owl pellet dissection. He let go of one deep sigh and little rodent bones scattered all over the table. He decided to glue them down before Manny investigated the smells and ate Everett's project. I checked the art closet in the school room and couldn't find any glue. So, I did the obvious thing and googled 'homemade glue'.

Brilliant!

I put the concoction in a Tupperware and we used it several times for project boards. I continued to pat myself on the back for this incredible little discovery. Gone are the days of squeezing Elmer's until I was red in the face. Gone are the days of unscrewing lids and using Q-tips to fish dabs of glue out. It was easy to make, easy to apply with a paint brush, and cheap.

Fast forward a few months.

Weird smells are in the hallway. The bathroom, our bedroom, and the schoolroom all meet at this little hall. Our obvious choice for weird smells was the bathroom, but nothing out of the ordinary was wafting from there. I crawled around on the floor sniffing, but couldn't find a spot that reeked. It was at nose level, just in the hall. I finally opened the art closet door and the smell nearly knocked me off my feet. After sifting through several stacks of clearance art pads, paint tubs, and pipe cleaners, I found the culprit.

The Tupperware of 'glue' had burped.

Seth and I had a good laugh and chucked the glue. That night, in bed, we kept smelling that stench. I finally gave up and pulled the entire storage piece out of the closet to find dripping slime pooling on unused bottle of Elmer's. It had fallen behind the rolling organizational bin--forgotten and covered with slime. We found ourselves pulling the contents of the closet out and sorting through things that were goo covered. At midnight. Seth gave me a second "Did you learn a lesson?" and we both thought it was over.

The next day Seth said he thought he smelled 'sourdough' in the basement. When I emptied the laundry chute in the basement I noticed the stench was lingering. I slowly looked up and noticed a dried white substance on the area that would be right below that closet. It was dry, and I knew I had cleaned up the source, so I laughed and shook my head as I started to pick up a stray towel and realized it was GLUED to the basement floor.

That homemade glue is something else.

Freezer Meals With Help

Occasionally I lose my mind. When I regain my sanity I find myself in the middle of chaos wondering why this ever seemed like a good idea. One Saturday morning I found myself in the kitchen, the lone adult, with five children preparing freezer meals for a month.

It seemed like a great family day. Everyone bustling around working together cooking. I talked it up for a few days and figured if we could survive the grocery trips required to provide for this project, then we could survive the actual cooking. Our first casualty was the adult pictured in the background below, as he frantically searches the internet regarding an emergency car repair that he sacrificially determined to do instead of cooking. That Pancake Flipper sure is doing a great job though!Eli was making loads and loads of mini-pancakes. Everett was peeling potatoes (with a begging pooch at his side). Josiah was peeled potato deliverer. Ella and Sally were choppers. Though it sounds so organized...it wasn't. The second and third casualties were Ella and Josiah. Sally may look like the wild one, but Ella's knife was confiscated when the potato delivery boy tried to snatch her knife and take over her job. Her response to his attack was a knife swinging ninja move that ended with both kids sitting on stools in the kitchen watching me stir soup. Everett was in the middle of a riveting novel, and he disappeared immediately after peeling his last potato. As usual, Sally and Elijah were the last two to be standing.

It was a ton of work, but the concept is magnificent. Endure a wild cooking frenzy for a weekend (one day wasn't enough time) and eat for a month. If this madness appeals to you, these ladies have some great plans and explanations of what they do to make freezer meals work for them.

Money Saving Mom (She even has free planning worksheets.)
Life As Mom

My sister found recipes and a master grocery list that she forwarded onto me. We didn't cook together, but did cook around the same time. It probably would have been fun to send the children off with hubbys (as long as car repairs aren't imminent) and spend the day cooking together. There I go again losing my mind.

I Have a Dream

I know our family is in a minority. I'm about to ask a question that only a few will be able to answer. Does anyone else that homeschools their transracial family have a really hard time teaching segregation? I managed to get through the grief and horror of the holocaust with some grace, but segregation stopped me in my tracks. We are moving along through history and stumbled into the 50's and 60's. I usually preview some of the longer books that I let Everett read on his own, but the ones I read aloud I don't read beforehand since I can skip or just close if it turns a corner that I don't want to go. Over a snack last week we were reading about Martin Luther King Jr and I was having a really hard time getting the words out.

The idea of segregation is very far fetched to our children. Almost like, 'Wait this is recent, these are normal people who are treating other normal people like this?' We read several picture books that deal with Jim Crow laws in the south. I was keeping an eye on Sally and skipping some sections that seemed so raw. As I was reading, looking around the table at the kids and their variety of skin tones, I couldn't help but feel like this was a history lesson that they needn't learn so young. I kept cringing at the words, "Whites only" or "Colored". They sounded ugly and confusing. Eli's cheerful take on this was, "Well, if we lived back then we'd just sneak library books for Sally and Jojo since they couldn't get a library card." Hmmm. Except I don't think our family would have existed back then. That thought made me so sad and ashamed.

We ended on a high note with a short video at the end of the week about Martin Luther King Jr's life. With all of my hesitation and worry about giving some kind of residual complex to each of the children about Whites vs. Blacks; the week ended with "one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers." Everett turned the TV off and said, rather optimistically, "Yep, that's just like us. Sisters and brothers."

Dinner!

Eli balking at my lentil soup for dinner tonight, "Doesn't look too good."

Sally was surprised because she becomes a ravenous wolf when I start dinner prep and EVERYTHING looks good to her. She chirps, "Eli, it looks just like baked beans!"

The baked bean lover's sad reply. "Don't be fooled, Sally. It isn't."

**********************************************************

Upon discovering I have made a pasta dish, Josiah begins his usual rant, "I don't eat pasta. Girls eat pasta and scream like this, 'Ehhhhhhh!' Boys scream like this, 'Roooooaaaaarrrr!' Boys eat chicken. I. Am. A. Boy."

Science Projects

Owl pellet dissection on my table, worms loose on the kitchen counter...it's our first science fair.

Christmas shopping here brought on the ideas, along with the parakeet breeding frenzy that accidentally happened earlier this year.

Foster Chicks

Seth and I fight a battle of conflicting desires. We would both love to live away from everything with a huge garden and animals. Little House on the Prairie in a bigger house with internet. Except, I can't imagine Seth surviving another long commute. The year he spent driving an hour each way was a killer for him. Two hours a day, five days a week, stop doing the math because it's really depressing. That's when he accidentally drank his own urine, if you remember that story. Plus, I love walkability. Did I just make that word up? I love walking to the store and the library. I would rather walk with the kids for 15 minutes than buckle those seat belts any day. So, we faced a real conundrum when we moved. Long drive to work, to store, to library, and possibly cool farm vs. living in town without the cool farm. Since the gentleman farmer idea is slightly far fetched we bought another house in town and decided to do the best we could.

I grew a pretty good garden last year. This year I wanted more and started dreaming of chickens. Not for eating, because I'm still too much of a city girl. If we are actually taking care of an animal then we are thinking of it as a part of the family. Around here, we just don't eat each other. Kudos to you if you can pull it off, I'm just really a sissy. I want those precious eggs! We scramble eggs and a dozen are gone. Poof, just one breakfast and I can wave goodbye to $5 in organic eggs.

Alas, we live in a slightly uptight area that won't allow "farm animals" unless you own 2 acres. It's their polite, uptight, way of saying, "Rednecks may live here, but we don't want you to flaunt it." I talked it over with Seth and convinced him that we should just try having chickens. If someone comes along to slap us on the wrist we can send the chickens down to my parents to live out the rest of their (due to the bird dog they own) short lives. Before actually making the chicken purchase, I decided it might be good to look at the penalty for civil disobedience in the farm animal laws. To my dismay they deem this serious enough to slap you with a misdemeanor. And that isn't worth even the best eggs in the world.

I tried to let my chicken dream die.

Until my mom mentioned getting some new laying hens for her house. It seems that the ones the dog doesn't get grow up to be roosters, so she's lacking in the egg layer department. I had a brilliant idea. Now, our children are currently foster parents to five little chicks. Shhhh, don't tell the city. I'm pretty sure it's okay for us to babysit a few chicks for a little while, right?

I'm pleased to introduce: Princess Leia,
PeckerNonaRose, Astrid, Fancy Nancy, and Super Grover. Fancy Nancy's 'caregiver' is not pictured. She only likes to look at the chicks in their brooder and occasionally tap Fancy Nancy on the back when one of the other kids is holding her during the super-supervised holding session once a day in which Momma Caregiver tries not to be a complete salmonella freak. Yeah, I'm so not built for farm living. This is pretty fun though.

Happy NINTH Birthday, Ella!

How can this be possible? Seems like just yesterday Ella was celebrating her first birthday with us. I think I say that every birthday. "Weren't you two, like, yesterday?"

When Ella was blowing her candles out, she ran out of breath. She looked up, smiled, giggled, and said, "I love cake." Then blew the rest out. Her audience was slightly stunned having never seen someone stop to make such a comment during candle extinguishing. Rara managed to snap a photo just after the cake lover's comment. Smirky face and candles half done. I think you missed your wish coming true this year sweetie, unless, that is, all you wanted was to eat a piece of cake. We were certainly delighted to see that you didn't blow slobber all over the cake as has happened to us in recent times (that kid born in October comes to mind...).
Happy Birthday Ella-rella!

Ethiopian Adoptions

Just in case you haven't heard, the organization that handles adoption paperwork in Ethiopia has been slowing down on processing paperwork. They plan to reduce the number of intercountry adoptions by 90% on March 10. I can't begin to guess what may have become of Sally if MOWA processing slowed to a record low, court took several times to pass, and we had to take two trips. She may have been waiting so long that TB would have completely eaten her vertebrae beyond repair. There are people and agencies who have done things that are unethical, but the waiting children are going to be the ones hurt.

Visit this blog to see if you can help--send them pictures of your adopted children and their stories by March 12 to send along to MOWA as success stories, sign the petition, and make a difference.

UPDATE: MOWA is back on track with new staff and prayers have been answered as adoptions are not coming to a halt!

Lovin' in an Envelope

If you were sitting across from me when I opened these pictures, you would have seen and heard the excitement. We made that paper airplane! I tested it in my kitchen, trying to make sure it would fit in an envelope and still sail along. I bought special tag board hoping it would last more than a day. Then we printed pictures of our family and pictures from my trip in November of Dirbe and his big sister, Meskerem. I slid a few pieces of gum and stickers in with our letter and wished that we had more space.

Dirbe has been wearing the same dress since I met him in November. When I asked Karen about sponsoring him, we both thought he was a little girl. My sister sponsors his big sister, my mom just started sponsoring their big brother, so my family sponsors their family. An incredibly cool thing.


But it still doesn't feel like enough. As my sister put it, "It just really is bittersweet because you see how appreciative they are for things that we take for granted. Like dollar store barrettes!"

We were all visibly taken with these pictures. We viewed the slideshow quickly the first time then slowly a few more times. Trying to absorb every little detail. You wouldn't have noticed my eyes getting misty or seen the lump in my throat. It's just such a small thing. This business sized envelope stuffed with the thinnest things I could dream up that would entertain a four year old and show him that this family really does care about him. The pictures he's holding? It's a photo of him and his sister and it's hanging on our fridge. It reminds us that there are children in Ethiopia relying on our prayers. Seeing Simret, Fikre, and Girma has me asking a thousand questions.

This week we stuffed another envelope, but sent it to a group visiting Kind Hearts. I had a little bit of a harder time filling this envelope. I think because I've met Jirigna, I feel a little more pressure to make sure he really knows I haven't forgotten him. One night at Target, we found some fun puffy stickers, a punching balloon (we love those things around here), and some gum. Finally, we stuffed this in just before I mailed it:

I hope he really knows that we think about him, talk about him, and pray for him.

Florida or Bust!

We haven't dropped off the face of the earth. We were merely swallowed up by winter. We escaped from the ice and snow for a short period of time to visit family, friends, and a place Josiah calls Seaweed.

I couldn't help but keep a running tally in my head as our "cheap" getaway began racking up. One meal for seven at Rainforest Cafe? $100

Many meals on the road for seven? sheesh, we ate pb&j with apples as much as we could, but with a long trip like this I kind of lost count of how many drive thrus we visited.

Tickets for a family of seven for one day at Seaworld? $500 (we "only" spent $200)
Thank you for loving the Military and giving us four free tickets, Seaworld, because we couldn't have done it without you! It wasn't nice of you to throw away our sandwiches at the gate, though. I protested about being a vegetarian (and a cheap one at that) and your kind guard informed me that, "It's a choice, not a medical condition." He may need some sensitivity training. I ate a soft pretzel for lunch, thankyouverymuch. Hardly giving me the stamina to continue for the rest of the day. Good thing we opted for the super gigantic refillable Shamu cup, I think the last few hours were made possible by sugar.

Dog kennel for three nights? With an online coupon the bill was a mere $65

Gas for Moby and a few quarts of oil? The skyrocketing gas prices gave us a surprise, I wasn't paying attention as I was gas station potty patrol, but I saw one fill up neared $90. Just go ahead and estimate that we get (on a good day) 15 mpg and we drove 2566 miles round trip. Ouch.

So, cheap really isn't cheap and keeping track of the costs really isn't a good idea. But it's certainly nice to try living on the other side of the tracks once in a while, even if only to realize that sitting in the sun in the backyard is just as delightful as the (fancy, heated) pool at the high class resort. When the backyard isn't under a few feet of snow and ice, I mean.

Wototo Children's Choir

A random message in my inbox mentioned the children’s choir visiting from Uganda. I forwarded the message along to my Mom and Seth, thinking I may be the only person of our family interested in venturing out on a frigid winter night to see a children’s concert. My parents would be in town for the weekend, celebrating birthdays, but that particular weekend happened to be Ethiopian Christmas. When you adopt a child from another country there is an expectation that you help your child to retain, or at least become familiar with, the culture of their birth country. Any opportunity for celebrating the Ethiopian culture that passes, leaves me with a little scar of guilt. Completely skipping any celebrations would leave me with that familiar feeling, but the planned activities with our Ethiopian adoption group weren't going to pan out. This left me wondering what special celebration we could throw together, then the email came from another adoptive mom, mentioning this opportunity. My sister and her boys, my parents, and our family headed out on that blustery night, unsure of what the night may hold.

We arrived at the old, crowded Methodist church and wandered through the maze of hallways connecting the parking lot to the sanctuary. The place was packed and we were happy to get seats near the back. The church was old, built before stadium seating and immediately each child clamored onto a lap hoping to get a better view of the stage. We looked around and realized this wouldn't work. We unloaded ourselves from the pew and wound up the stairs to a small balcony. As we settled in, the lights turned down and the concert began.

I wondered how each of the children would do, whether they would enjoy the music and be touched by the stories they would hear. I shouldn’t have worried. As the children's choir filed in singing, Josiah stood on the pew with a light in his eyes. I whispered to him, asking if he could see, but he was too enthralled to turn his eyes and just nodded. Completely engaged. The songs were interspersed with video clips and children stepping out to tell their personal stories. Most of the children had devastation in their lives that left them as orphans. My youngest nephew, four years old, turned to Sally and stage whispered, “Sally! These kids are from Africa, did you know you are from Africa?!” An epiphany.

My eyes misted as I heard about the crisis that each child has survived. Their tales were too close to home for me and I wondered how my mom might be reacting after being in Ethiopia so recently. In the middle of my 'moment', I noticed Josiah was thoroughly enjoying the music. He was shaking his money maker and I was glad we weren't down on the main floor so he could enjoy himself fully. Then he looked at me and yelped, "I need to potty, RIGHT NOW!" Evidently, the potty dance looks a lot like three year old Ugandan praise music dance moves. I made it down one flight of stairs to an usher and another flight of stairs into a vacant fellowship hall before the warmth spread across my hip. By the time we made it around the corner and into the bathroom it was far too late.

So, our wonderful experience at the Wototo Children's concert was infused with our usual antics. Josiah singing, clapping, and dancing with brown paper towels stuffed into his smelly pants standing in the pew to avoid stinking up the ancient fabric beneath him. Sitting next to the urine soaked child, in my own urine soaked jeans, I was still touched by the children singing, my children, and my older nephew--who moved onto his mom's lap during one of the children's stories about losing their family.

Happy Birthday, Elijah!

For Eli's eighth birthday he requested a surprise party. We usually have a duo party with his cousin, born one year and four days after him. We keep waiting for the two boys to request their 'own' parties, but year after year they cheer for a party together. So, this year, like previous ones, we planned a double party. How to pull off a surprise party when the party kid knows about the party?

Obviously, have all of the kids hide behind furniture with Nerf guns and pummel him when he arrives at his cousin's house for the party. He knew when, he knew where, but he was surprised by the what. We were unorthodox in planning this party, because as a general life rule of motherhood, you shouldn't serve cake and ice cream to children at 9:30 am. We did. Then we loaded up four vehicles and drove through a blizzard to play laser tag. Load up the kids with sugar and laser guns then set them loose on each other in the dark. Seems like the ultimate party--Surprise, Eli!!

They loved it. Minus the long drive.

The adults? Well, the ones who played laser tag loved it. I managed to bring us safely to the venue through the snow in the slippery van with 8 young boys from 6 different families. The odds against us making it there were slim. The
juvenile delinquentparty goer sitting behind me kept kicking my seat griping about my snail's pace and, "I could run faster than you drive!" I shouldn't begrudge him his right to practice road rage, but from inside the vehicle? One boy was ready to have an accident in the van. With all of the pressures, I stayed strong and kept the speedometer safely at 25 mph. A little slow for the interstate, but the weather...the treacherous weather. And all of those families' boys! Sheesh, I could have had an emotional breakdown. The responsibility was crushing. I would make a terrible bus driver.

Overall, the birthday was a wild success. We surprised Eli. We arrived alive. We didn't lose any children. A birthday party sensation.

Happy Surprise Birthday, Elijah!