March 18, 2012
Leftovers
A few days ago, Josiah took too long on his lunch and was left alone at the table. While I cleaned up in the kitchen, I noticed that the dining room was exceptionally quiet. That usually means he's in trouble. I peeked in and saw that he had indeed disappeared, but the vultures were taking care of his leftovers.
February 2, 2012
Nests
In a moment of guilt filled insanity, I relented and decided that we would make bird's nests. Not the yummy treat kind that my mom makes at Christmas. The kind that birds make. The science book suggests it as an activity. In the middle of winter. They know this will fall in the middle of winter because it's the middle of the science book. Grrr. How about some nice, clean, inside activities about birds? Like watching them as they eat from our bird feeders while we are sipping hot beverages inside?
Notice Sally's look of disdain and distance from the table.
Then Sally started screaming about spiders. I hadn't thought about what we might be waking up by digging around outside. That was the end for her, she took her bag, dumped it onto the pie plate and called it a nest. Ella was thrilled with the prospect of finding something alive in her pile, so she began sifting carefully through leaves and bark. She completely forgot about the assignment as soon as she found a roly-poly. I vehemently refused her pleas for, "making it a home in my bedroom."
Inspecting the pile for bugs, Ella suckered Josiah into helping her.
The nests were a partial success, if measured in learning. Nest building is hard, especially considering birds don't have hands. Ours looked beautiful until the kittens discovered them that night.
Coloring a picture of a nest might have been a nice learning experience, too.
Armed with bags and winter coats, I wave from the window as the kids tear into trees, bushes, piles of moss...hoping to find just what they need to build a nest. Unfortunately, the sticky stuff (aka mud) wasn't to be found anywhere, as the ground is frozen solid. I had to don my boots and trek into the far reaches of my garden to chip out some soil. I thawed it in the sink with warm water and viola...mud. That went onto the dining room table. Sigh. I stood guard with the vacuum hose, mistakenly thinking that would make clean up easier.
Notice Sally's look of disdain and distance from the table.
Inspecting the pile for bugs, Ella suckered Josiah into helping her.
Coloring a picture of a nest might have been a nice learning experience, too.
January 28, 2012
Forgotten Pictures
After reading my previous post, Karen sent me a message with wonderful news. She found pictures from our home visit that she had forgotten about! Even with my descriptions, Seth and our children were amazed to see where Dirbe and her siblings live.
It was so dark, my "fancy" Canon camera couldn't find a focal point in the darkness, and couldn't take a picture. So I reached for my daughter's small point-and-click camera and snapped a few quick pics with the flash. Reading Apryl's post jogged my memory, and just tonight I downloaded those photos and here is what I found - along with a video I somehow captured while holding hands with a child and balancing my other camera too. :)
The mud bench, yellow jugs for water in the background. You can see the thatched roof with black stains from smoke. Dirbe and Meskerem had terrible coughs, as did many of the other children, no doubt due to the smoky house.
The kitchen area, with large pans for injera along the wall. The raised bed is in the background.
One final shot as we leave, the children sleep on the floor near their parent's raised bed. This picture makes me even more thankful for the blankets that we gave to the children.
It was so dark, my "fancy" Canon camera couldn't find a focal point in the darkness, and couldn't take a picture. So I reached for my daughter's small point-and-click camera and snapped a few quick pics with the flash. Reading Apryl's post jogged my memory, and just tonight I downloaded those photos and here is what I found - along with a video I somehow captured while holding hands with a child and balancing my other camera too. :)
The mud bench, yellow jugs for water in the background. You can see the thatched roof with black stains from smoke. Dirbe and Meskerem had terrible coughs, as did many of the other children, no doubt due to the smoky house.
The kitchen area, with large pans for injera along the wall. The raised bed is in the background.
One final shot as we leave, the children sleep on the floor near their parent's raised bed. This picture makes me even more thankful for the blankets that we gave to the children. Karen has about 30 seconds of video on her blog. In it we had just entered the cluster of huts and were approaching the Hunde's home.
January 26, 2012
The Visit
Last year, when a little girl stole my heart by draping her arm so protectively around her little sister's shoulders, I never dreamed their family would become so familiar to my family. I never would have imagined that we would find ourselves in their home.
We had walked through the fields on a dirt path, gingerly making our way to the crest of the hill. Each of the children grasped the hand of an adult, almost as a badge of honor. We followed the path to a cluster of mud huts surrounded by shrubs and fencing.
This was the first time I had visited the home of one of our sponsor children. The unexpected made me nervous. I was holding the small hands of two little girls. I looked down at my sponsor child, Dirbe, on my right. She was obviously excited about the visit we were making. We trailed behind the group, my mom was just up ahead holding the hands of Dirbe's older brother and sister, whom my parents and sister sponsor. My hands were clammy and my stomach full of butterflies.
From the moment we stole away from the care point; I felt such a burden. I wanted to remember each detail of the walk, each sight and smell, so that I might share the experience with our families back home. I felt such responsibility climbing that hill, as I couldn't imagine many visitors taking this path to these homes. We were there as representatives of so many people and I felt inadequate. I felt so awkwardly American with my cameras and blue jeans. I was so tired from a long flight and no sleep and so, so terribly sorry that I hadn't learned Oromiffa in the past year.
That smiling face kept peering up at me, glancing and grinning. She obviously doesn't care how out of place we look. She's delighted to bring us home. I wish I could capture her excitement! Then I catch a glimpse of the view once we reach her cluster of huts, and I wish I could bring that home, too.
The huts seem abandoned, but we are shown the Hunde family's home. Dirbe's mother comes, smiling. She looks graceful in her traditional flowing dress and scarf. Again, I feel under dressed, though we stand in a smoky mud hut. It's unreal. She puts me at ease as she, too, is obviously excited to have us visit. We talk through two translators to try and understand how many children are in the family and what they do for a living. We are waiting for the children's father to arrive.
I'm nervous and rest in Karen's ability to think clearly and make conversation. What will their father be like? Perhaps angry that these American Christians are here? I have no idea, but not much time to think about it, because soon the crowd peering in the doorway parts for him.
He is small and wearing a ball cap with a large shawl wrapped over his shoulders. He walks with a limp and uses a cane. I never should have worried about this man. The moment I see his face, I see the same familiar joy that I adore on Dirbe's face. He is thrilled that we have come. His eyes adjust to the darkness and he comes towards me, smiling. He is talking, but I can't understand what he says. As the translators begin to sort out what he has said, he is taking my hand. Then he begins peppering it with kisses as the translator says, "He says he recognizes you from the pictures you send. He says thank you, thank you, God bless you."
I'm a mess. I'm a humbled mess. I can't think straight enough to ask any simple questions, for which I will have to beg forgiveness later. We learn that our three sponsor children sleep on the dirt floors. Their father fought in the army and sustained extensive injuries to his leg. He tries to support his family, but relies on the help provided by the care point.
As we begin to leave I realize that I must bring home at least a mental image of the home where this family lives. The three children sleep on the hard packed dirt floor near a raised mud platform where their parents sleep, a mud bench runs along one wall, and in one corner is a small fire, obviously where the cooking is done. Our visit ends far too soon as I realize I haven't taken photos or video to share with our family.
We walk slowly away from the huts and I am elated. I have just seen the smallest glimpse of the blessing Trees of Glory is to the children. I'm excited to be able to tell my sister that 'our girls' are loved and adored by their family. My nervousness has bubbled up into relief and joy. I give the little hand a squeeze and Dirbe smiles up at me again. This time, I recognize that she has her father's smile.
We had walked through the fields on a dirt path, gingerly making our way to the crest of the hill. Each of the children grasped the hand of an adult, almost as a badge of honor. We followed the path to a cluster of mud huts surrounded by shrubs and fencing.
This was the first time I had visited the home of one of our sponsor children. The unexpected made me nervous. I was holding the small hands of two little girls. I looked down at my sponsor child, Dirbe, on my right. She was obviously excited about the visit we were making. We trailed behind the group, my mom was just up ahead holding the hands of Dirbe's older brother and sister, whom my parents and sister sponsor. My hands were clammy and my stomach full of butterflies.From the moment we stole away from the care point; I felt such a burden. I wanted to remember each detail of the walk, each sight and smell, so that I might share the experience with our families back home. I felt such responsibility climbing that hill, as I couldn't imagine many visitors taking this path to these homes. We were there as representatives of so many people and I felt inadequate. I felt so awkwardly American with my cameras and blue jeans. I was so tired from a long flight and no sleep and so, so terribly sorry that I hadn't learned Oromiffa in the past year.
That smiling face kept peering up at me, glancing and grinning. She obviously doesn't care how out of place we look. She's delighted to bring us home. I wish I could capture her excitement! Then I catch a glimpse of the view once we reach her cluster of huts, and I wish I could bring that home, too.
The huts seem abandoned, but we are shown the Hunde family's home. Dirbe's mother comes, smiling. She looks graceful in her traditional flowing dress and scarf. Again, I feel under dressed, though we stand in a smoky mud hut. It's unreal. She puts me at ease as she, too, is obviously excited to have us visit. We talk through two translators to try and understand how many children are in the family and what they do for a living. We are waiting for the children's father to arrive.
I'm nervous and rest in Karen's ability to think clearly and make conversation. What will their father be like? Perhaps angry that these American Christians are here? I have no idea, but not much time to think about it, because soon the crowd peering in the doorway parts for him.
He is small and wearing a ball cap with a large shawl wrapped over his shoulders. He walks with a limp and uses a cane. I never should have worried about this man. The moment I see his face, I see the same familiar joy that I adore on Dirbe's face. He is thrilled that we have come. His eyes adjust to the darkness and he comes towards me, smiling. He is talking, but I can't understand what he says. As the translators begin to sort out what he has said, he is taking my hand. Then he begins peppering it with kisses as the translator says, "He says he recognizes you from the pictures you send. He says thank you, thank you, God bless you."
I'm a mess. I'm a humbled mess. I can't think straight enough to ask any simple questions, for which I will have to beg forgiveness later. We learn that our three sponsor children sleep on the dirt floors. Their father fought in the army and sustained extensive injuries to his leg. He tries to support his family, but relies on the help provided by the care point.
As we begin to leave I realize that I must bring home at least a mental image of the home where this family lives. The three children sleep on the hard packed dirt floor near a raised mud platform where their parents sleep, a mud bench runs along one wall, and in one corner is a small fire, obviously where the cooking is done. Our visit ends far too soon as I realize I haven't taken photos or video to share with our family.
We walk slowly away from the huts and I am elated. I have just seen the smallest glimpse of the blessing Trees of Glory is to the children. I'm excited to be able to tell my sister that 'our girls' are loved and adored by their family. My nervousness has bubbled up into relief and joy. I give the little hand a squeeze and Dirbe smiles up at me again. This time, I recognize that she has her father's smile.
January 21, 2012
Staycation--The Finale
That fated morning, when the snow was coming down and I was dreading the thought of breaking the sad news to our kids, I was certain that we needed one big ticket item. We have some really good kiddos. They are usually so flexible and willing to change plans at a moment's notice. I shouldn't have worried so much about telling them that we weren't leaving for Florida. But, to my credit, I pictured myself saying, "I know you have been counting down the days until we were leaving, and I know that our bags are packed and you are expecting to pile into the van and head south in a few hours. I know that we have pumped you up for grandparents, theme parks, and swimming with manatees. Instead of that, Daddy and I decided that we are going to stay at home and do some fun stuff instead. I know there is something fun we can do. Really."
Their expected reaction? Wailing as they throw their bodies prostrate to the ground beating little hands and feet while they moan with disappointment and regret over their luck in life to have been put into the care of two senseless and obviously uncaring adults who call themselves parents.
I should have expected more of them. I tried to break it gently, and was certain to stress this particular event. Our trump card--two days at the resort/waterpark just an hour away. I had called and explained that I didn't care what day we came, but I needed something great because, "I'm about to tell my kids we can't go to Orlando for the week."
Though we enjoyed the beginning of the week, I do believe the biggest fun was had during our last two days of staycation. We sucked every ounce of fun from that water park. The discounted price I got for our room was due to low numbers at the park on Wednesdays. The place was relatively deserted and perfect! The four biggest kids are tall enough to ride nearly everything, this year they were able to run up and come down slides on their own. Josiah, ever the water-wimp, hung with me in the shallow part of the wave pool and managed by the end of the second day to be coerced into going down the 'big kid' slide in the kiddie zone.
The thought of standing around in my swimsuit is quite unappealing. Standing in my swimsuit, dripping wet and catching a glimpse of the snow pouring down from gray skies made for a perfect end to a snowy week!
Their expected reaction? Wailing as they throw their bodies prostrate to the ground beating little hands and feet while they moan with disappointment and regret over their luck in life to have been put into the care of two senseless and obviously uncaring adults who call themselves parents.
I should have expected more of them. I tried to break it gently, and was certain to stress this particular event. Our trump card--two days at the resort/waterpark just an hour away. I had called and explained that I didn't care what day we came, but I needed something great because, "I'm about to tell my kids we can't go to Orlando for the week."
Though we enjoyed the beginning of the week, I do believe the biggest fun was had during our last two days of staycation. We sucked every ounce of fun from that water park. The discounted price I got for our room was due to low numbers at the park on Wednesdays. The place was relatively deserted and perfect! The four biggest kids are tall enough to ride nearly everything, this year they were able to run up and come down slides on their own. Josiah, ever the water-wimp, hung with me in the shallow part of the wave pool and managed by the end of the second day to be coerced into going down the 'big kid' slide in the kiddie zone.
The thought of standing around in my swimsuit is quite unappealing. Standing in my swimsuit, dripping wet and catching a glimpse of the snow pouring down from gray skies made for a perfect end to a snowy week!
January 18, 2012
Staycation--Day Three
We woke up on day three to the sound of the sump pump running. The snow that kept us from our vacation in Florida had disappeared. Rain and wind had replaced it--our snowy activities have come to an end. We hit the free Tuesdays at the science center downtown. It's a great place that I usually avoid. A three story museum cluttered with exhibits means keeping track of kids is pretty hard. We hit the entrance and five warm bodies scatter. Soon everyone is hidden among the exhibits. My palms start sweating and images of Josiah getting onto the elevator alone start running through my mind.
Send me to the zoo on a hot day in July. Outside with open spaces wins every time.
The museum was desolate this Tuesday. Having another pair of eyes (and bigger kids) made the experience pleasant.
Send me to the zoo on a hot day in July. Outside with open spaces wins every time.
The museum was desolate this Tuesday. Having another pair of eyes (and bigger kids) made the experience pleasant.
January 16, 2012
Staycation--Day Two
Staycation's all I ever wanted...
Snowy theme continues today as we hit the trails to cross country ski. You can only imagine the surprise as we bombarded the clubhouse at the golf course turned winter sports park.
Boots and skis for seven, please.
The unbundling and boot selection, tying, bundling back up was an event in itself. Then snapping on the skis and getting a short lesson. Incidentally, if you ever choose to take five children cross country skiing and the guy managing the place assures you that poles will only make things harder for the kids, don't believe him.
Poles make things easier. Small children with little upper body strength will fall often and have no way to right themselves. If an adult is right there, no problem, but five children falling over and over again soon becomes defeating.
We didn't realize this until we were too far away from the clubhouse to turn back, so Seth and I sacrificed our poles so the kids would have one. Eli, our fearless leader, became so efficient he disappeared from view several times. We managed to make a 2 mile loop. The runner in me was certain (after skiing for an hour) that we must have made a wrong turn (little boy in the green coat, remind me why you are leading us?) and ended up on the 20 mile trail. I was surprised when we looped around and found that after 90 minutes we had only gone 2 miles. I think I pulled Josiah the last half mile. He kept saying he was having fun, but "I'm ready to have hot chocolate, can we just stop?"
Day Two: Ski and Boot rental for 2 hours $85 (kind of pricey but not anywhere near downhill ski prices)
Fun Factor: Much more pleasant than skating. Weather was perfect, we really did enjoy ourselves once everyone got the hang of the skis.
Probably not as much fun as swimming with the manatees, but definitely warmer.
Snowy theme continues today as we hit the trails to cross country ski. You can only imagine the surprise as we bombarded the clubhouse at the golf course turned winter sports park.
Boots and skis for seven, please.
The unbundling and boot selection, tying, bundling back up was an event in itself. Then snapping on the skis and getting a short lesson. Incidentally, if you ever choose to take five children cross country skiing and the guy managing the place assures you that poles will only make things harder for the kids, don't believe him.
Poles make things easier. Small children with little upper body strength will fall often and have no way to right themselves. If an adult is right there, no problem, but five children falling over and over again soon becomes defeating.
We didn't realize this until we were too far away from the clubhouse to turn back, so Seth and I sacrificed our poles so the kids would have one. Eli, our fearless leader, became so efficient he disappeared from view several times. We managed to make a 2 mile loop. The runner in me was certain (after skiing for an hour) that we must have made a wrong turn (little boy in the green coat, remind me why you are leading us?) and ended up on the 20 mile trail. I was surprised when we looped around and found that after 90 minutes we had only gone 2 miles. I think I pulled Josiah the last half mile. He kept saying he was having fun, but "I'm ready to have hot chocolate, can we just stop?"
Day Two: Ski and Boot rental for 2 hours $85 (kind of pricey but not anywhere near downhill ski prices)Fun Factor: Much more pleasant than skating. Weather was perfect, we really did enjoy ourselves once everyone got the hang of the skis.
Probably not as much fun as swimming with the manatees, but definitely warmer.
Staycation
Our family is making a vacation out of a snowy weekend.
It's a sad tale involving a week in Florida and two days of snow. I am unabashedly a paranoid freak when it comes to driving in bad weather. Instead of packing the van on our departure morning, I checked the weather and fretted. I talked to my sister and fretted. I realized at some point that I was sabotaging our trip by remaining in my jammies with loaded suitcases sitting by the door instead of in the van. At that point, I called Seth. He tried to reassure me that the weather was only bad up here. Little did he know I'd been planted in front of the laptop studying four weather sites.
If this were our first year of marriage, we would have gotten into an all-out brawl. Since we are so mature and know each other so well, the conversation went something like this:
Seth, it's snowing in the mountains, I am sick at the thought of driving through them.
Apryl, it's not going to be bad, but I'm sick at the thought of driving through the mountains with you.
Yeah, it will be terrible (I'm not going to argue about how ridiculous I act in the van). I already checked plane tickets to fly out tomorrow. That is probably not an option.
Thanks for not calling me a cheapskate and forcing me to fly us down there.
Thanks for not forcing me to sit in the van as we drive to our death.
I'm NOT working next week. What do we do?
I'm NOT telling the kids that the trip to Florida is canceled until we have another plan.
We cooked up a plan that requires us to belt out our own rendition of a Go-go's favorite. Goes like this: Staycation 's all I ever wanted, Staycation--don't wanna get away!
Yep-traded Florida for a snowy week in Ohio. Woo. Hoo.
This is serious business. It would be easy for us to just sit around for a week. We made a plan, that fated morning, while I sat in my jammies, dreading breaking the news to the kids. We decided to make the most of this blasted snow. Perhaps our antics this week will be an encouragement to you to take advantage of the cool (sometimes cheap) things to do around your neck of the woods. I'm pretty good about taking the kids on adventures around the city, but there are a few things I just wouldn't attempt alone unless forced. This week is the perfect opportunity for us to 'force' ourselves to do all of the things we've been meaning to.
Day One--Ice skating at the outdoor rink at University Circle. Surrounded by three museums--we figured we would skate then visit the art museum to check out their ancient collections. Sadly, we were wet and frozen by the time we finished skating. Well, those of us who remained upright weren't wet, but the other five were soaking.
Cost: skate rental $3 per person=21$
Fun Factor: Marginal only because the girls and Josiah weren't very steady on their feet and it was C-O-L-D.
Even huddled around the outdoor fire, we were chilly and ready to go. Everyone, that is, except for Ella who was as determined as ever to get this skating thing down.
We had the entire rink to ourselves at first. We must have looked like we were having fun, as couples and college kids began meandering in asking where to rent the skates. Must have been because we kept yelling, "Staycation 2012!" We have no shame.
It's a sad tale involving a week in Florida and two days of snow. I am unabashedly a paranoid freak when it comes to driving in bad weather. Instead of packing the van on our departure morning, I checked the weather and fretted. I talked to my sister and fretted. I realized at some point that I was sabotaging our trip by remaining in my jammies with loaded suitcases sitting by the door instead of in the van. At that point, I called Seth. He tried to reassure me that the weather was only bad up here. Little did he know I'd been planted in front of the laptop studying four weather sites.
If this were our first year of marriage, we would have gotten into an all-out brawl. Since we are so mature and know each other so well, the conversation went something like this:
Seth, it's snowing in the mountains, I am sick at the thought of driving through them.
Apryl, it's not going to be bad, but I'm sick at the thought of driving through the mountains with you.
Yeah, it will be terrible (I'm not going to argue about how ridiculous I act in the van). I already checked plane tickets to fly out tomorrow. That is probably not an option.
Thanks for not calling me a cheapskate and forcing me to fly us down there.
Thanks for not forcing me to sit in the van as we drive to our death.
I'm NOT working next week. What do we do?
I'm NOT telling the kids that the trip to Florida is canceled until we have another plan.
We cooked up a plan that requires us to belt out our own rendition of a Go-go's favorite. Goes like this: Staycation 's all I ever wanted, Staycation--don't wanna get away!
Yep-traded Florida for a snowy week in Ohio. Woo. Hoo.
This is serious business. It would be easy for us to just sit around for a week. We made a plan, that fated morning, while I sat in my jammies, dreading breaking the news to the kids. We decided to make the most of this blasted snow. Perhaps our antics this week will be an encouragement to you to take advantage of the cool (sometimes cheap) things to do around your neck of the woods. I'm pretty good about taking the kids on adventures around the city, but there are a few things I just wouldn't attempt alone unless forced. This week is the perfect opportunity for us to 'force' ourselves to do all of the things we've been meaning to.
Day One--Ice skating at the outdoor rink at University Circle. Surrounded by three museums--we figured we would skate then visit the art museum to check out their ancient collections. Sadly, we were wet and frozen by the time we finished skating. Well, those of us who remained upright weren't wet, but the other five were soaking.
Cost: skate rental $3 per person=21$
Fun Factor: Marginal only because the girls and Josiah weren't very steady on their feet and it was C-O-L-D.
Even huddled around the outdoor fire, we were chilly and ready to go. Everyone, that is, except for Ella who was as determined as ever to get this skating thing down.
We had the entire rink to ourselves at first. We must have looked like we were having fun, as couples and college kids began meandering in asking where to rent the skates. Must have been because we kept yelling, "Staycation 2012!" We have no shame.
January 8, 2012
Elijah is Nine
Every birthday a child celebrates brings the "I can't believe time is passing so quickly" thought. It seems like we were just rushing to the hospital. I waddled across the parking lot telling Seth to leave the bag (and camera) in the car since it would be a while before we needed them. By the time we made our way into a room I was certain that baby was about to make his appearance. He did, much to the surprise of the doctor, nurses, and us. He's been in a hurry about everything since the day he came.
We always celebrate as a family with a dinner chosen by the birthday child and cake. Later, we have a party--Eli has always (except for his first) shared a party with his cousin. This year the festivities took place at the professional baseball stadium turned snow festival. Cake, pizza, and gifts took place at our house. This was probably the easiest party ever and the cake I made was probably my most successful (also easy) cake making venture ever.
Happy Birthdays, boys!
December 25, 2011
December 17, 2011
Well Digging
Every year our homeschool co-op hosts a "Kringle Shop." It serves dual purposes. It's an opportunity for the kids to shop without mom tagging along, and families get to turn a profit by selling some crafty item to the shopping kids. Last year, I started thinking that if our family was going to come and shop; we could at least fund the shopping by making a few things to sell. Then months passed...and suddenly it was December and we hadn't made a thing.
Then a sweet friend mentioned digging a well in Ethiopia instead of buying gifts. Would we like to help?
Absolutely.
Would our children understand? Maybe. In the end we decided that we could cut a few corners (like Christmas cards), but we needed some creativity to make this well digging work.
We decided to make shovel ornaments and give them as gifts. We made little cards with an explanation, tied them to the shovels, and hoped it would go over well. The shovel debut was at Kringle Shop.
By the time the day arrived, each of the kids had been working on various projects (bookmarks, ornaments, shovels) and were pretty excited to see how the things were received. Getting everyone and everything into the van that blustery morning was chaotic. I actually pulled out of the driveway and realized we had a 'pan of shovels' baking in the oven. I wonder sometimes if I am ruining our children by doing too many things at once. Do they think all adults function like their dear Momma?
The 'vendors' get to shop first, then man their table for a few hours while other families make their purchases. I knew that Josiah wouldn't last long behind the table (and with so much chocolate being sold at the table next to ours...). The girls and I took him to watch Veggie Tales with other waiting children while the boys took table duty. The hours dragged on, and it was interesting to hear their updates on selling the shovels. Everett, ever the salesman, talked them up quite a bit.
I have included this photo lest you think we are raising children who are pious and always thinking of the plight of others. Sometimes, reality is smoothed out in blogging. Here's a little glimpse of it. While I have photos of children working and talking about how many shovels we might sell and how much a well might cost to dig, I also have to admit that this was made more than once:
If you can't identify that...then you are definitely more pious than us (or you don't own an 80 pound golden retriever).
Then a sweet friend mentioned digging a well in Ethiopia instead of buying gifts. Would we like to help?
Absolutely.
Would our children understand? Maybe. In the end we decided that we could cut a few corners (like Christmas cards), but we needed some creativity to make this well digging work.
We decided to make shovel ornaments and give them as gifts. We made little cards with an explanation, tied them to the shovels, and hoped it would go over well. The shovel debut was at Kringle Shop.
By the time the day arrived, each of the kids had been working on various projects (bookmarks, ornaments, shovels) and were pretty excited to see how the things were received. Getting everyone and everything into the van that blustery morning was chaotic. I actually pulled out of the driveway and realized we had a 'pan of shovels' baking in the oven. I wonder sometimes if I am ruining our children by doing too many things at once. Do they think all adults function like their dear Momma?The 'vendors' get to shop first, then man their table for a few hours while other families make their purchases. I knew that Josiah wouldn't last long behind the table (and with so much chocolate being sold at the table next to ours...). The girls and I took him to watch Veggie Tales with other waiting children while the boys took table duty. The hours dragged on, and it was interesting to hear their updates on selling the shovels. Everett, ever the salesman, talked them up quite a bit.
I have included this photo lest you think we are raising children who are pious and always thinking of the plight of others. Sometimes, reality is smoothed out in blogging. Here's a little glimpse of it. While I have photos of children working and talking about how many shovels we might sell and how much a well might cost to dig, I also have to admit that this was made more than once:
If you can't identify that...then you are definitely more pious than us (or you don't own an 80 pound golden retriever).
December 3, 2011
Final Blanket Update
A picture is worth a thousand words.
These pictures are the culmination of months of work from people all over the country. By the time the blankets arrived in DC, many of them had cris-crossed the US. We left the United States with just under 500 blankets for the children in Ethiopia. I worried as I packed the night before we left. I worried at 3:30 am the morning we left. I was worried standing in line at the airport, wondering if they would turn me away. I thought I'd breathe a sigh of relief when the boxes and suitcases were turned over to United for the flight. Then, I started worrying about boxes being tossed carelessly into planes and blankets exploding on the tarmac. I worried needlessly. Every box was fully intact and every piece of luggage arrived in Addis. I started worrying about how we would deliver the blankets. The sheer numbers were overwhelming. We finally turned the main floor of the guesthouse into a sorting factory--school supplies here, blankets counted, labeled and stacked in whatever we had ready to go to the right care point with care packages.
I finally exhaled and months of worry melted away. Each blanket you made was going to be delivered to a child who needed it!
This is what the beautiful chaos looked like...
at Kechene:
at Trees of Glory:
at Kind Hearts:
at Onesimus (ministry to homeless children):
The children were thrilled to have these blankets. Most of the children sleep on hard packed dirt floors. These blankets will be treasured every night! Thank you for your time and effort to make this project possible!
These pictures are the culmination of months of work from people all over the country. By the time the blankets arrived in DC, many of them had cris-crossed the US. We left the United States with just under 500 blankets for the children in Ethiopia. I worried as I packed the night before we left. I worried at 3:30 am the morning we left. I was worried standing in line at the airport, wondering if they would turn me away. I thought I'd breathe a sigh of relief when the boxes and suitcases were turned over to United for the flight. Then, I started worrying about boxes being tossed carelessly into planes and blankets exploding on the tarmac. I worried needlessly. Every box was fully intact and every piece of luggage arrived in Addis. I started worrying about how we would deliver the blankets. The sheer numbers were overwhelming. We finally turned the main floor of the guesthouse into a sorting factory--school supplies here, blankets counted, labeled and stacked in whatever we had ready to go to the right care point with care packages.
I finally exhaled and months of worry melted away. Each blanket you made was going to be delivered to a child who needed it!
This is what the beautiful chaos looked like...
at Kechene:
at Trees of Glory:
at Kind Hearts:
at Onesimus (ministry to homeless children):
The children were thrilled to have these blankets. Most of the children sleep on hard packed dirt floors. These blankets will be treasured every night! Thank you for your time and effort to make this project possible!
November 19, 2011
Lessons
My schoolroom in the weeks before leaving for Ethiopia. Blankets cluttering my busy room as they wait for their long trip across the ocean. A daily reminder of work that needs to be done.I roll blankets while Sally reads aloud to me from Frog and Toad. I call out spelling words as Eli helps me tape blankets up. Everett tapes boxes closed as we talk about his grammar lesson.
Mommy guilt sets in that evening as I think back on the day. Many blankets were packed up and mailed. Lessons were taught. My attention was not on our children as I went through the motions of teaching. I was counting and mentally checking lists. I wasn't looking at their faces and listening to their questions.
Guilt. They can't learn this way.
As I lament, I hear footsteps on the stairs. It's late and everyone should be asleep. Wondering whom it could be, Everett peeks around the corner. My first reaction is to be upset, as we tucked them in nearly an hour ago. Then he says, "Eli and I were talking. If we put our allowance together, we could sponsor another child in Ethiopia."
My heart breaks. Their allowance? If they pooled their money they would have $40, enough for sponsorship...barely.
He continues,"We were just thinking that we don't need to buy the stuff we save for. It would be better to sponsor another child."
I kiss his forehead and thank him for redeeming my day. What they are learning is much more important than grammar.
November 7, 2011
Three Days and Counting
Today was a cold, overcast day. I had a long list of things that were double and triple starred. Teaching grammar and history were not on the list. So, I scurried around getting nothing done (history included) until the guilt of being so disorganized motivated me to call a family meeting and get organized.
Errands seem to take longer and the gray clouds were a constant reminder of the impending winter. By evening, I had only marked a few items off of the list, but threw together a dinner I've been craving. Curried chickpeas--good stuff for a yucky day.
Then the mail arrived! It's a big deal around here, the dog begins barking ferociously, kids scramble to see who can open the mail slot and rip the mail out. Envelopes scatter as a search for interesting mail ensues.
It was a very good mail day at our house.
The little photo books for our sponsor children were there.
A box arrives filled with blankets--that were already ROLLED UP AND PACKED. I. Could. Have. Cried. I love the beautiful blankets that have passed through this house. I am excited to be a part of bringing them to the children in Ethiopia. I am so done with rolling them up and packing them. I could have just let the tears of joy flow.
Nestled in with these goodies was something I have been hoping would arrive before I left this week. You other adoptive parents will understand my excitement. The IRS finally decided that we did indeed really, truly, adopt our children. We took a few steps in the wrong direction earlier this summer in the middle of the audit, in which they decided to go back to Ella's adoption in 2004 (yes, really) requesting receipts. They finally saw the light, and it only took seven months to convince them! They are actually shorting us $1400, but I'm just jumping for joy that we got where we did. My husband, glass-half-empty-man, will pursue the extra moola. I. Am. So. Done. With. The. IRS. Seven months of wondering and digging through files and copying was seven months too long for me.
After such a busy, frantic day filled with trip preparations, our evening turned out to be quite delightful thanks to a pan of chickpeas and the mail carrier.
Errands seem to take longer and the gray clouds were a constant reminder of the impending winter. By evening, I had only marked a few items off of the list, but threw together a dinner I've been craving. Curried chickpeas--good stuff for a yucky day.
Then the mail arrived! It's a big deal around here, the dog begins barking ferociously, kids scramble to see who can open the mail slot and rip the mail out. Envelopes scatter as a search for interesting mail ensues.It was a very good mail day at our house.
The little photo books for our sponsor children were there.
A box arrives filled with blankets--that were already ROLLED UP AND PACKED. I. Could. Have. Cried. I love the beautiful blankets that have passed through this house. I am excited to be a part of bringing them to the children in Ethiopia. I am so done with rolling them up and packing them. I could have just let the tears of joy flow.
Nestled in with these goodies was something I have been hoping would arrive before I left this week. You other adoptive parents will understand my excitement. The IRS finally decided that we did indeed really, truly, adopt our children. We took a few steps in the wrong direction earlier this summer in the middle of the audit, in which they decided to go back to Ella's adoption in 2004 (yes, really) requesting receipts. They finally saw the light, and it only took seven months to convince them! They are actually shorting us $1400, but I'm just jumping for joy that we got where we did. My husband, glass-half-empty-man, will pursue the extra moola. I. Am. So. Done. With. The. IRS. Seven months of wondering and digging through files and copying was seven months too long for me.
After such a busy, frantic day filled with trip preparations, our evening turned out to be quite delightful thanks to a pan of chickpeas and the mail carrier.
November 2, 2011
Obedience
She had a winsome smile as she handed me a large white envelope. A scribbled note on the back read, "Apryl do not open until later." I thanked her and answered a few questions about our upcoming trip, then slid the envelope into my Bible.
A believer listening to the quiet voice of the Lord.
When I opened it later, it was full of twenty dollar bills. Just enough to pay for another piece of luggage, if we need it. This envelope seems mysterious to me, as by my count we have the luggage 'taken care of' and all 500 blankets will arrive in Ethiopia.
It was an unexpected gift. The week before another woman chased me down, because she didn't know how to spell my last name. "God laid it on my heart to give you this. When I heard you say that the blankets were all taken care of, I decided you didn't need it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that the Lord wanted me to give this to you. So, I'm writing this check, use it for luggage, for food, for whatever. I have to give it to you."
Another woman I have only just met, listening to the quiet voice of the Lord.
I saw the Lord's hand in this, but didn't expect that he would bring another woman to quickly hand me this envelope. I can only wonder what needs we may see in two weeks that will be met by this gift of obedience.
A believer listening to the quiet voice of the Lord.
When I opened it later, it was full of twenty dollar bills. Just enough to pay for another piece of luggage, if we need it. This envelope seems mysterious to me, as by my count we have the luggage 'taken care of' and all 500 blankets will arrive in Ethiopia.
It was an unexpected gift. The week before another woman chased me down, because she didn't know how to spell my last name. "God laid it on my heart to give you this. When I heard you say that the blankets were all taken care of, I decided you didn't need it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that the Lord wanted me to give this to you. So, I'm writing this check, use it for luggage, for food, for whatever. I have to give it to you."
Another woman I have only just met, listening to the quiet voice of the Lord.
I saw the Lord's hand in this, but didn't expect that he would bring another woman to quickly hand me this envelope. I can only wonder what needs we may see in two weeks that will be met by this gift of obedience.
October 28, 2011
500
My vision in this blanket project was far too small. Initially, providing blankets to the children at the care points meant 300 blankets. That seemed like an impressive goal. My emails and postings turned up a group of eager friends who were willing to help. I worried. Then, the handful of friends grew and our goal of 300 blankets changed. Could we provide blankets for another care point? Now, I worried that we wouldn't be able to get 400 blankets. If we did, how could we get them to Ethiopia?
My worries grew as I felt it would be impossible to bring all of the blankets. Then, God provided more luggage space through the willingness of other travelers. The number of blankets reached 400, but we still lacked space for 50 blankets. Such an intimidating number when you are talking about packing them into luggage. A few more willing travelers and the number dwindled to 31.
Our in country itinerary was finalized and we are going to visit a possible future care point that ministers to street children. Then, the Lord gave me a glimpse of his vision and soon blankets are pouring in. Over 400, 450...nearly 500. Enough for us to bring for this ministry! Five hundred handmade fleece blankets--and 300 used to seem unreachable.
I just keep repeating, "I listened to God, but didn't dream quite big enough." Quietly, I say to myself, "I didn't trust enough either, because I worried each step of the way."
Thank you, for your generosity, and for taking part when it did seem like a crazy idea!
My worries grew as I felt it would be impossible to bring all of the blankets. Then, God provided more luggage space through the willingness of other travelers. The number of blankets reached 400, but we still lacked space for 50 blankets. Such an intimidating number when you are talking about packing them into luggage. A few more willing travelers and the number dwindled to 31.
Our in country itinerary was finalized and we are going to visit a possible future care point that ministers to street children. Then, the Lord gave me a glimpse of his vision and soon blankets are pouring in. Over 400, 450...nearly 500. Enough for us to bring for this ministry! Five hundred handmade fleece blankets--and 300 used to seem unreachable.
I just keep repeating, "I listened to God, but didn't dream quite big enough." Quietly, I say to myself, "I didn't trust enough either, because I worried each step of the way."
Thank you, for your generosity, and for taking part when it did seem like a crazy idea!
October 19, 2011
We Met Our Goal!
We have reached the goal of having a blanket for each child at the three care points that we will be visiting in November! I'm counting blankets that aren't mailed yet, but are stacked (like the guys above) on your sofa waiting to be packed and mailed.
Thank you so much to so many people who have made blankets and hosted gatherings! If you live close enough, I hope I hugged you and said thanks. Many of you live so very far away, and most of you I haven't met personally.
A friend teased me the other day that my 'cape' was showing. In her jest, she hit it right on. If I ask for help or admit that I cannot do something, I'm not superwoman. Pride is such an ugly thing. This project has been wonderful for me, because from the beginning I knew I couldn't do it alone. Believe me, I thought about it for awhile. God has humbled me and forced me to trust Him. Thank you again for your excitement and willingness to bless the children in Ethiopia. We leave (with 400 blankets) on November 11, just 3 weeks away! 
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