The Vacation Post

I've mentioned it before, but I have a problem with procrastinating. When we got home from our weeklong trip to visit relatives (back in July), I was too busy to actually post about the trip and only managed to write about the poopy trip back. It's been bugging me that I never put up pictures (at least) from the week. Now, we just spent the weekend camping on the lake and I'm thinking that I'll probably end up doing the same thing and just waiting until the pictures become obsolete. Then, I was struck with the grand idea of just putting the favs on here. For posterity and to ease my conscience.














I actually had more pictures posted here, but got frustrated with how they were organized. It may seem a little cluttered or disorganized as a result.











These two are from the rodeo. If you don't "get" what Eli is doing, then read this post from last year and get ready to pee in your pants. If you overlook Peta violations and child safety issues, watching kids bullet out of a corral on a sheep is hilarious. Everett, unfortunately, was too old to participate this year. He was part of the peanut 'somethingorother' where you dig up peanuts for cash. He and about 20 other youngsters raced around in the sawdust and poo digging for bags of peanuts. At the end of the allotted time they were paid a dollar for each bag they found. Delightful, until you, and an entire stadium of onlookers, watch as your eldest and another boy struggle over the last bag. They played tug of war until the sack ripped in half and peanuts spewed everywhere. It did my heart right to see Everett reach into his pail and give that boy one of his bags. I congratulated him on his generosity when he sat down with us. His reply? "Oh, that was his bag, I took it when he dropped it but decided to give it back to him." Oh, okay.




Here's a 'Before' shot of the clan as we decided to take an afternoon stroll. My Dad and Grandma sat this one out (because they are so smart). One minute we are walking across a meadow in the Ozarks and the next minute we are in the jungles of Vietnam (complete with hacking ourselves a path through 6 foot tall bamboo). Thankfully, we had cell phones and called my Dad in for a rescue.
This is Sally meeting her first fish. It didn't go over so well. Later, she was reclining in my Mom's lap when Ella yanked a fish out of the water so fast that it flew behind her and nearly took Sally's face off. She mentioned that incident just a few days ago. Scarred her for life.







This is my Great, Grandma meeting our new babies for the first time.

Little, Teeny, Tiny Update

All is well in the land of plaster and foam. Except for the stink of urine that hangs in a cloud around my daughter. I don't think she notices it; so I'm not making it an issue. Don't let her know that I've spread it all over bloggy world, but she wears a pull up to bed. I guess better stated, I could say, she has a pull up around her legs while she sleeps (since the cast keeps us from putting it on her properly). Then, the urine flows up along her back saturating the cast.

We are going to be dealing with the cast for a while. I think we may be stuck at home after next week because of the smell. Really. I think I caught a whiff of it at the surgeon's office (Seth told me that it was Josiah's diaper, but I don't know...).

We had two appointments today. One check up on the cast. "Yep, it's going to get stinky. Hmm, use some masking tape to cover that area and spray her with Febreeze." That isn't too much better than what I was already doing. It's sort of worse, really. I've got a pretty good mental picture and it makes me laugh. The little news-she's going to get the cast off the week before surgery to let her skin get nice and healthy (and CLEAN). That means we have about 4 weeks until it comes off.

The second appointment was with the pediatric surgeon who will be "assisting and helping with access" during the surgery. He answered our questions very thoroughly and reassured us that we are in very good hands. He also went into detail about the surgery and where they are going to be cutting, etc. but I'll avoid discussing that since...do we really need to go there?

Week in Pictues

So much happened this week and I can't begin to write about it all. I'm overwhelmed with tasks at home and would really like to. sit. still. Everyone keeps asking me, "Have you been watching the Olympics?"

Huh? Remind yourself what you are asking. "Have you managed to get prepared for school, deal with medical issues, doctor visits, house cleaning, cooking, taking care of kids, and spending a moment with your husband and then sit down in front of the TV and watch other people being active since you didn't get to run today?" Yeah, not so much.

I caught a glimpse of the rowing while waiting at a restaurant 2 weeks ago. I enjoyed that while I could (since rowing holds a special place in my heart). I've enjoyed hearing about it, but end up feeling guilty since we haven't seen a lick of the games at home. Guilty about NOT watching TV; something is wrong with that.

Anyway--now that I've wasted all that time that I could have actually written about our week, I'll post the pictures--THAT I PROMPTLY DELETED FROM MY MEMORY STICK. I can't believe it. Looks like I'll be re-taking "first day of school pictures" today (day 3). Honestly, I'm a buffoon.

We started school on Monday. It was a little chaotic, but actually went well. I think the kids enjoyed themselves. They were THRILLED, I'll say it again for emphasis, THRILLED with school starting because they've been locked out of the basement for weeks. I did that last year with much success. It adds to the anticipation. Sally clamored for workbooks and pencils and the like so she caused no problems (on day 2 she grabbed a phonics workbook from Eli's stash and was just about to get going with a marker when I stopped her--she's an eager learner). Josiah played, ate, and napped. He did just what I had scheduled.

Tuesday, I realized that we wouldn't see Salomae's back as it is again. Ever. She's in a cast, she won't come out of the cast until surgery. Then she'll be back into a cast and hopefully heal up without a bump. So I took some pictures while she napped. So sneaky.

Today, she had her casting. It's not pretty, folks. She hasn't lost her ability to grin, but she can't move her head at all. AT ALL. She ate cheerios for 'lunch' when we got home (they knocked her out this morning to do the casting so she did without breakfast). Have you ever tried to eat cheerios without looking at the bowl? Her self-feeding skills aren't that graceful in the first place, but it's genuinely a mess now. We also can't figure out if she should sit or stand. She's got this space-age seat belt that lets her lie down on the seat of the van. She's not happy there, but terribly uncomfortable in her car seat. Everything seems to be a choice between the lesser of two evils. And she,"...wants this thing off and her brace back. Thankyouverymuch."

"You fool, why are you taking my picture in this thing?" She's a little grumpy upon realizing that it's a permanent piece of equipment. So much happier after eating and getting dressed...still looking awfully uncomfortable. Did you notice the handy 'Thanksgiving meal' hole in Sally's cast--they think of everything, don't they?

After a day like today, I decided to just go ahead and bring the girls (and Josiah) to the salon. On a whim (sort of), I hacked my hair off. I'm tired of looking like a tired, frumpy, mom of five. I can't do anything about the tired and five kids, but a limp ponytail? So I cut it off. Ella was so excited, but when it was her turn she bawled. I made her get a trim nonetheless. I'm a meanie. And I'm lazy and didn't want to cut her hair myself. Sally really wanted a hair cut, but she doesn't really have much hair to start with. Considering the gal had to cut my hair while I held a squirmy 10 month old; she did a good job. Photo taken by Salomae in such a manner that you can't admire my hair aside from seeing that most of it is gone. Finally.

That has been our week. I just realized its only Wednesday.

The Date Has Been Set

I've been distracted since Thursday.

When my dad was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago, I remember stumbling through my day wondering how everything could still be so normal. I felt like I should be wearing a scarlet "C" on my shirt so anyone I met could understand what was going on in my life. The day after I found out, I was running with a friend and the normalcy of what we were doing struck me. I finally blurted out, "My dad has cancer."

So I'm doing that right now-with this post-I'm blurting out, "My daughter's spine is disintegrating and she's having surgery in six weeks."

Thursday was our monthly check-up with our orthopedic surgeon. We did not get good news. I had a feeling things weren't going to be good. Salomae hasn't been able to stand up without her brace on. Every morning she calls out, "Mommy, brace on!"

We had x-rays without the brace, then waited for the doctor. He came in and examined Sally. Then he sat down and I've selectively forgotten everything that followed after the statement, "We need to do surgery within the next 4-6 weeks."

I recall asking about our trip to the beach that we planned for the end of September. Like an idiot. I have been working on this trip, planning to start our school year early (tomorrow) and go to the beach late because of Seth's work schedule. I wanted this trip because I'm afraid that next summer my daughter may not be able to walk in the sand or play in the water. Of course, I didn't say that to the doctor. I wouldn't have made it very far into the explanation without breaking down and bawling.

We knew it was coming, but I had put it out of my mind. I hoped that Sally would have more time with us before we throw her life into a tailspin. Last month the curvature of her spine was at a 32 degree angle. On Thursday, her vertebrae were curved at 67 degrees. It's obvious that we can't wait much longer before something has to be done. The more her back curves, the more her spinal cord stretches and the harder it will be to repair later (if she doesn't suffer neurological deficits beforehand). Her doctor wants to put her in a cast this week (Wednesday) that will go from her hips to her neck. His hope is that this will keep her where she is until surgery (October 2).

During surgery, he will take her tenth rib and rotate it around so that it supports her infected vertebrae. The rib will still have a blood supply and will eventually form one bone mass where her weak vertebrae were. Then, he will put hooks along the outside of her back to give her more support and pull her back up some. We are praying that he can perform both surgeries in one day for obvious reasons. Otherwise, she will undergo the strut graft (rib to vertebrae surgery) and recover for a week then the next surgery. There are about a million things that could go wrong. I'm trying not to think about them, but finding myself slipping into this 'what if' place.

I can't help but think about Isaac in California. Watching his story unfold over the past 6 weeks has been terrifying. My kids have been especially touched and pray nightly for his health and recovery. I spoke with Jocelyn (Isaac's mom) on Friday night and she reassured me that Sally is in as good a spot as we could hope. Sally's case isn't as bad as Isaac's. I know of two other cases in the US recently and there were complications in both. Considering the odds, I don't think we can expect Sally to go in for surgery and leave the hospital the next week. I'm not normally a pessimist, but I've got to plan for at least 3 weeks in the hospital with my daughter. I'm thanking God that my Mom and in-laws are retired and willing to come up and help. I'm thankful that this doctor is five minutes from our house. I'm thankful that Sally is here and not in Ethiopia suffering with Pott's disease. But I'm still scared and wondering how things will be in a few months.

Friday morning, Everett came downstairs before anyone else was awake. The first words out of his mouth were, "I should have what Sally has instead of her."

I wasn't sure where he was going with this and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Because it would be better for me to be sick and in the hospital instead of her. Or you, or Daddy could have it. Just not her."

I cried.

A Quarter Inch of Happiness

My friend, the gal I previously mentioned that could write a cat blog, keeps me on my toes. She sends me emails with blog REQUESTS. I don't know if that is legal in bloggy world, but I allow her to do it. More often than not, I pacify her (lest she stop reading my blog) and do whatever she tells me. So she asked for an update on Ella, our goddess of drama and gorging herself on food. She's taking Depakote for her epilepsy. And that is that.

She's having seizures, but they are...less noticeable. She doesn't have grand Mal seizures, her's are a flutter of her eyes and losing a few seconds. Before the meds they happened a dozen times a day. Maybe more. Always more if she didn't get enough sleep or was doing math with mom stressed. So I guess she's better off. I think. It's only a few times a day. Ugh. But that is NOT what this post is about...

Before we went to Ethiopia, Ella was getting her shoes on and came running into the kitchen. She stood in front of me, quite determined, and said, "I want another leg. I want two feet. Like Eli and Everett has. I want a foot like this 'real' foot I have."

Oh dear me. What to do, what to say. I've been dreading this day. So, I start with, "Well, why do you want another foot like that?"

"Because I want wear flip flops."

Relief. This isn't so serious after all.

"Wha...Hmmm. You've got flip flops," Me, leading her to the Birkenstock sandals that are strappy.

"No, I want it go in my toes. Like Everett and Eli have. I show you." She runs off to show me a 'true' flip flop. I obviously already know what a flip flop looks like and that indeed it does go between your toes. Unfortunately, her prosthetic foot is a mold of toes, all one piece, and honestly in pretty bad shape. At that point, the toes were just barely hanging on.

She runs, breathless, into her bedroom with a flip flop on her right foot. A camo flip flop. "See?" she says, "Between my toes. I want this."

It goes on and I promise that we can look for some shoes with a thingy between the toes. I'm planning to just cut the 'thingy' and have straps holding the shoes on around the ankle or something. I'm pretty crafty, you see. Or ghetto, depends on who you talk to.

Months pass, we go to Ethiopia and come home. We are busy now. Real busy. And Ella's toes are held on with a variety of colored duct tape. The replacement foot we ordered before I left for Africa never arrived. An insurance glitch that would get fixed in August. This was June. So we left that leg man and found another.

This guy is the man of Ella's dreams. He took one look at her sad leg and said she needed a replacement leg, not just a foot. And he ordered her a foot with toes that are separated for flip flop wearing gals like her. She loves him, I think. She drew him a picture with cats on it. She adores him. And we went shopping for flip flops that day. Even though it took about a month for the leg to get done. She can't keep the stinkin' shoes on, but she wears them when I let her.

Traveling Families

Three families from America World are leaving to pick up their children today. These are babies that we photographed and videoed while in Ethiopia. I can't believe how much they have changed and I'm so excited to see them coming home. Here are the blogs of their families: Wesley's family , Levi's family, and Zamara's family. If you go back a few posts you can see pictures of their cuties from court day. I made Zamara cry and then videoed it, you can watch my wretched hand reach out and she starts bawling. A sure high point in my life as videographer for waiting families. Ugh.

True Confessions

I started thinking about the pedastal that I've been put on and decided that I needed to do a post that lets you in on a little secret. So get ready for me to knock your socks off...

I'm not a perfect mom.

Lest you think I'm a superhero or Kate (of reality tv fame) I want to tell you that I am indeed a regular mom with regular problems (that more often than not involve some kind of child's bodily fluids). I'm thinking the best way for me to let you in on my reality is by making some confessions. Here we go:

1- My kids eat at McDonald's. Gasp. It is true. It doesn't happen on a weekly basis, but sometimes I've been known to make a drive thru appearance at the local McD's. Salomae ate a burger with a side of 5 nuggets last week. She's a true carnivore.
2- I don't order Happy Meals. They are too expensive. Yeah, we are that cheap. And did you know that there isn't a "Burger with side of nuggets" option?
3- I'm pretty selfish. I try to be, anyway. The other day, while weeding the garden with the kids, I noticed that there were raspberries ready to pick. I meandered over to the bushes and picked them. Then, in a moment of sheer selfishness, I decided to eat them all as fast as I could and NOT SHARE THEM WITH MY KIDS. Yeah. Didn't work because their 'Mommy is doing something fun' radars went off. I ate one raspberry before I was spotted and the masses converged on me to eat the rest of my bounty.
4- I can't do imaginary play. I just can't. I've tried. A few weeks ago I ran around in the backyard neighing like a horse being chased by four cougars. I couldn't get into it. I'd rather read a book.
5- Sometimes I get annoyed. That doesn't need an explanation.
6- Occasionally, while in Moby, during a particularly irritating spat between children, I will unroll all of the windows and blast whatever music happens to be on at the time. It feels good and the kids stop arguing. I think they do, but I can't hear them so does it matter? I've gotten some pretty strange looks as we pull up to a light with Vivaldi blaring.
7- I don't dust. I rarely iron. I don't particularly enjoy folding clothes (I 'wad' more than I fold). My kids socks aren't all that white. If we can even find two that match. I have a hamper full of socks without mates.
8- I don't wipe out Sally's brace with alcohol EVERY night like the orthodics guy told me to. She does wear a clean undershirt (changed after naps because she's so sweaty all of the time).
9- While on the cleanliness confessional kick: If they are clean, I don't make my kids take a bath every night.
10- I have actually yelled at my children.

There you have it folks. The bare naked truth. See, I'm pretty normal. By the grace of God my children will survive their childhood and as adults dote on me and call me blessed.

4 o'clock daily

Every weekday at 4 pm the health department nurse knocks softly at my door. I let her in and she watches me administer four anti-TB medications to Salomae. Then she leaves. As simple as that. She's a nice lady and Sally expects her arrival daily.


Secretly, I hold a grudge against the program that doesn't trust us to consistently medicate our sick child. I understand the need for the government to check up on all the TB carriers in the area. If people don't take their meds, we could have a pretty serious problem on our hands. We comply by opening our home, begrudgingly. Do I sound a wee bit perturbed? Do you want someone to come to your house everyday? Just as naps are ending and sweet solitude is closing for the day.


I check the clock and wake Sally up. We talk in hushed tones to keep Ella asleep for as long as she needs. "Did you pee pee in your pull-up?" She giggles and always replies no even when I can see the rust colored urine staining the diaper. She scampers into clean panties and a clean undershirt. Then I strap on her brace. And I hear a knock on the door. Since 'pictures are worth a thousand words...'


Here's Sally's debut in 'nasty faces you can make while taking nasty medicines'. Well worth an Oscar.

On the technical, medical side: The sample of fluid from Salomae's back came back positive for TB. No big news there, but the fact that they got a culture to grow is good. That was sent off to the state which tested it for drug sensitivity. We got those results last week and Sally's TB is drug sensitive (NOT resistant to the drugs she's taking). Which means we can drop off one of the meds--now she's down to three. In another month we should be able to drop another one.

Three Months

We had our first (of three) post-placement visits with our social worker last week. Yesterday was our official "these kids have been WITH us for three months" day. I believe in some circles that would be 'gotcha day'. Though gotcha day could also be our court day or the day we met or the day we arrived home? Very confusing. In honor of said day, here are some photos.


**I would have posted this yesterday but we have been visiting relatives (which could explain the previous post). Josiah doesn't sleep well outside of our home (anymore). Like averages 4 wake-ups a night. Last night was a special one for me, he woke up every hour from 3:30 on. Lovely.


On with the photos...


Referral picture of Salomae, mid-Feb (aka the grumpiest picture we have of Sally).


'Gotcha Day'--actually this is 'Metcha Day'. Sally missed most of Gotcha Day therefore we don't have a single picture of her on that day. Shameful.



One month home

Two Months home (after picking mulberries in the backyard)



Three months home (after a lady at the hospital said, "Honey, I'm gonna give you my number--I braid hair." So I went to the library and checked out some books and tried MY hand at braiding.)

Josiah's referral picture

Gotcha Day with nannies and bunkmates.

Sitting up at one month home.

Two months home (on the hammock).

STANDING UP at the water table last week. Slow down kiddo!

Exhausted...

I'm pretty tired. I didn't realize how tired Eli was until I started talking to him and he didn't reply. This is what I found. Asleep. On the hardwood floor. With his head in the Bible. That he can't read.

So cute.

So sad.

So wish I could trade places with him.

Josiah crawls

I'm excited and devastated. I didn't expect it. Somehow he maneuvered his chubbiness onto all fours and...MOVED. Right for my coffee. The joy that I'm raising a fellow coffee lover is lost in the dismay that I will now have to baby proof the house.


Later he 'chased' Everett's legos while everyone shrieked and scrambled to get them out of his way. (Have I mentioned that there is a LOT of shrieking going on around here? The addition of daughter #2 has tripled the shrieking. It seems to be a contagious activity. Like laughing. But louder and more obnoxious.)



It's my 31st birthday. Happy Birthday, Mom, I'm about to make your life very difficult!

Cuteness Abounds

I'm parenting solo this Sunday morning. To my surprise everyone is dressed and ready to go (only a few minutes late) to church. And they look adorable. I know it will only last a few minutes. The new braids in Sally's hair will get plucked out, Josiah will undoubtably puke on his outfit, and Ella will brush against the dirty van with her dress. So I take a picture. No time for a photo shoot. Just one try and this is what I got. I know from experience that even after 14 shots one child will be doing what Eli is doing in at least EVERY picture. So, pretend he isn't searching for something in Sally's hair. Pretend he's looking at the camera being handsome. While you're at it, pretend Everett isn't about to drop Josiah on the landscaping blocks below.

Our Budding Libertarian

Otherwise known as 'The Day That My Son Actually Turned Into His Father'. We went to the park today. That in and of itself is not exciting. What follows is probably only interesting to those who know Seth. Pretty well.

When we arrived at the park there were all sorts of tree cutting services parked along the street. Felled trees littered the sides of the road--general chaos. Wood chippers are always high excitement to small children so I saw that we'd probably spend some time checking out the heavy machinery. Alas, at the parking lot the business had already been taken care of and all that remained were some logs and stumps.

I'm baffled, by the way, as to WHY the parks service felt like it was important to cut down trees at the already tree-vacant playground. But they made sure that every last tree along the parking area was gone. As we unloaded our madness from the van, I remarked on the tree removal. Expressing my bewilderment to the children, I said, "Why in the world do you think that they would cut these trees down?"

Everett, without missing a beat, replied, "Because the government told them to."

Seth's remark upon hearing this story? "Well, that IS the only logical conclusion. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." Which is why he is a libertarian who works for the federal government (and loves a good conspiracy theory).

Like father, like son.

Helpful FAQ sheet

This is from a friend of mine who happens to be a funny gal. If she had a blog I'd read it. It would probably be about cats. I'd still read it though, because she is just so witty.

Her opinion is that I should type up flyers to pass out with the following printed on them:

Dear curious fellow citizen

Before you ask me any questions (especially in front of my children) please read the following FAQ answers sheet for helpful info!

No, we don't run a daycare
Yes, they are all ours
They are ALL our 'real' kids, we don't have any fake ones that we know of.
Yes, some of them have some obvious differences but if they don't mention it, why should we/you?
Thank you for your opinion that we are;
A) Brave
B) Inspirational
C) Generally Wonderful
D) Out of our minds
E) All of the above

Asking about our finances, reproductive abilities, or reasons for doing what we do is not appropriate unless we broach the subject.

Thank you for your interest in our family and God bless.

'Happybirfffdaytoyou'!

Salomae is four today!

We celebrated with the usual--dinner chosen by the Princess, presents, cake and ice cream. Dinner, eaten al fresco, consisted of hot dogs (Princess avoided them after the pleading for them), macaroni and cheese (or FASTA as Princess calls it), and baked beans (also avoided by Princess). She picked 'Fanta' as the beverage of choice for her birthday meal.

A little table dance by older brother as dinner entertainment. Quickly stopped (after photo was taken) as the three other Bangles were ready to join in.
Lacking time (and sitters), I had to take all five kids to Toys 'R Us to buy Salomae's gifts. We picked up a new kitchen (the wooden set was ruined in 'the flood') for a bargain. Since it was cheap, cheap, cheap, I also let her pick out a new doll. She's got an opinion on just about anything and I knew that if I picked out the baby she may not like it. She chose a Cabbage Patch that eats an ice cream cone. I can't honestly say if I swayed her or not in the choice. I think I may have. It came with a few free items (I guess ice cream eating dolls aren't the hit they should be). So I may have steered her in that direction. But the big, fat, kind of scary because-they-look-so-real babies were on clearance and I tried to interest her in one of those but she wouldn't even look at them (thankfully). The real question is whether I steered her to the brown skinned doll or not. When she opened the doll she looked happy, but sort of confused. She knew she was getting it and kept asking about it, but I think she wondered why we wrapped it up. The other items were a surprise and we are saving the kitchen for Monday when Rara and Popop (Seth's parents) are in town. Sad to say, she was clueless about the kitchen until I forgot about it in the back of the van and she caught a peek. I don't think she knew what it was even after seeing it (so hopefully I didn't ruin the surprise). A birthday isn't complete unless there's a little gift envy going on. Ella didn't partake in the "helping you unwrap" frenzy. She sat back and sucked her tongue (coping mechanism leftover from Ukraine) just watching. Then she silently got up and disappeared for a while. When she came back outside she had her favorite baby doll.
All three kids made Sally cards for her birthday. Eli (the sweet kid that he is, takes after his mom) put one dollar from his allowance in the card he made. I wanted to give him another dollar just because it was so kind. Here he is offering advice on how to ride a scooter, "Push with your feet." Salomae replies, "You push me!"
Sally still didn't eat cake or ice cream, though I slathered the cake with fresh strawberries and bought strawberry ice cream. While chopping the strawberries I started wondering why in the world I was TRYING to get her to eat sweets.

The Zoo

When we moved to the Midwest three years ago, I had to say good-bye to my weekly trips with girlfriends to the beach. We had a set date, time, and place we would all meet with our troops, towels, and coolers. The van doors would open and the three of us would just laugh and soak up the sun until late in the afternoon.

Oh, I loved it. On a bad day I would yell out to the kids, "Put your suits on!" I'd grab the beach bag and we would be on our way. Life is easier while sitting in the sand. The roaring waves drown out the bickering of the kids. Definite bonus.

What to do when stressed in the middle of the Rust Belt? Seth started his new job and I took the kids to the zoo. The zoo can't hold a candle to the Gulf Coast. The only thing the beach and zoo have in common is that they are unpleasant places to be 'in season'. Crowds stink.

I bought a wagon on the way there and a family membership once we arrived. That first trip was a little stressful because I didn't realize that the wagon was 'assembly required'. I had no hammer for mounting the wheels so I pulled Ella's prosthetic leg off and used that. Imagine the stares I got in the zoo parking lot using a leg to bang down wheels on a wagon. Who brings an unassembled wagon to the zoo, anyway?

The same kind of lady who brings five children to the zoo by herself.

Today is Salomae's fourth birthday (I'll do a birthday post later). Our plans for the day changed. I hate changing plans on the kids because they just. don't. understand. They usually blame me. So last night I just didn't tell Sal that the plans had changed. Then, she prayed and told God that "'kumorrow' see elephants, cake, ice cream...happybirthdaytoyou." I knew that I would have to brave the zoo on my own.

I brought the double jogger and the sling. We packed a lunch, got the camera, and pulled out of the driveway. Then pulled back in so that Everett and Sally could go potty. Then had to pump up the tires on the stroller. Then we were off. I was already tired.

The kiddos really are good or I wouldn't dare to do the zoo. They really were excited or I wouldn't do it either. Before we left, Sally kept chanting, "See the elephants!" I knew that deciding to go was the right decision. She is the princess today, after all.

Don't be deceived, that's just a picture of an elephant.

We saw the elephants, then added other animals as my the kid's energy level allowed. We managed 3 hours of zoo-filled fun. By the time we left, I had two kids in the stroller and Josiah in the sling. I was 'dewy' when we made it to the van. In my saturated state, I noticed how many people were gaping at us. The kids are oblivious, but I'm not. I generally just smile. One lady approached me and said, "That's a lot of kids, are you by yourself?"

I said, "Why? Are you trying to find someone to help you with your unruly child?"

Only kidding.

I said, "Yep. All five are mine, I'm used to being alone with them. They are pretty good or we wouldn't be here." I smiled. Because that is the kind and appropriate thing to do.

Then she said, "That sure is a lot of kids for one mom."

I smiled again at her and wondered if she plans on encouraging her husband to marry a second wife when their family grows. So she can have some help. I'm pretty sure polygamy is illegal, right? Probably should have told her that.

Jojo and I in all of our sweaty glory.

The rest of the clan obviously enjoying our last few minutes at the zoo. Don't the three littles look like I FORCED them to come on this excursion?

Links

There are four AWAA families in Ethiopia right now. I wanted to share their blogs so you who are stalkers could check them out and pray for them. The Gibson's (password Kiki) had an error during court and are facing another 1-2 week stay in Ethiopia while paperwork gets corrected. We met the Raymer's boys at Kid's Care. I have pictures of Seth and their son doing a little shoe dance together. It's such a wonderful feeling to see these children united with their families.



When I posted about Salomae's back a few weeks ago, one of you kind readers gave me a link to another mom who has a daughter with Pott's disease (spinal TB's other name). I just read on her blog about a mom and her son who went into surgery this week to correct his spine. Go over there and read what her past two days have been like and start praying for her son Isaac.



I'm terrified of what Salomae's next year may hold. We visited the orthopedic surgeon today. He said that the brace is helping her to straighten up, but anticipates surgery before the 6 months on medication. Please pray for Salomae's health--that the medication would be effective and her back would be strong enough for us to wait until after the 6 month mark for corrective surgery.



On a much happier note--Josiah is 9 months old today! He's the wiggliest baby and trying to crawl (with extended family cheering him on). I discourage any crawling or pulling up that I see. It will only make my life more complicated. Maybe he can start crawling at about 2 years of age? Doubtful. He pulled up in the crib two days ago. Dear me.

Vacation

You know that feeling on the way home from a week away? When you've been in the huge van with SIX kids for 14 hours? Climbing over seats to reach kids with drinks, snacks, books, dvds...for FOURTEEN hours. The anguish as an older child laughs loudly at a movie immediately after the baby has fallen asleep. The wonderment at your nephew's rare bowels that act up only on car trips, requiring that you toss his undies into the trashcan at the rest area and squeeze him into a diaper. The sheer joy at seeing the five older children running around trees at the rest area; enjoying themselves. They collapse at the picnic table as you are examining an unknown dark sticky substance on the baby's clothes. And your clothes. And you touch it and realize that his diaper exploded. Moments later you look down at three of the breathless children and spot dog poo on their shoes and ankles. Oh, the joy of excrement. And traveling in the midst of it.

Maybe you haven't had that feeling. Pulling into the driveway after a week away and a very long trip home. Still so much work left to do before we can truly relax, but we are home.

Home sweet home. Where the cats decide to use the bathroom mat for a litter box. And one of them thought it would be fun to try the armchair in the living room.

Home sweet home where the basement flooded while we were gone. And the cats couldn't use their boxes because they are in the basement. And the water saturated the precious schoolbooks we used this year for the little kids. Expensive, lovely books.

Dear friends come to our rescue that night with dinner and a shop vac. Tracy stayed until 10:30 helping.

Our mothers are in a car the next day. We must sound desperate. They come to hold the baby and scrub the floors with bleach. They do a wonderful job. Baby is content and floors are now clean. But we can't save the books.

Though we try with crazy schemes. They were all laid out on the deck when a storm blew in complete with tornado sirens. We grabbed the books shortly before we headed to the (now clean) basement. We've frozen them, baked them, and stuffed them with paper towels. It's unsure as to how any of that will work. So far, about 2 trash bags of books have been tossed. The fate of 30 is still undecided.

Biopsy Success

I'm a little late with this post. Seth and I spent Thursday at the hospital with Salomae. At the pre-op area we were informed that we weren't as informed beforehand as we thought. If that makes any sense. Instead of the two procedures that we thought she was having, Sally was having four procedures. They did bone marrow biopsies, got a stomach juice sample, and biopsied the mass in her back. We thought they were going to do only the bone biopsy in her back, but the doctor told us that they would 'try' to get to the mass and get some of that instead. An hour after we left her in radiology, the doctor came out and (with a big smile) said, "We got a syringe full of pus."

Delightful. As nasty as that sounds, it's good news. We can hope that over the next few months some of the TB bacteria will grow so that we can be sure it isn't the strain that's resistant to medication. The hematologist called me Friday to let me know that the bone marrow came back fine. As far as she's concerned, Salomae is as healthy as can be (not even anemic!).

We started medication on Friday. The nurse came over as the kids were waking up and Seth was getting home. She made a big display of helping me to dispense the medications. It's not that difficult. Four suspensions, four gulps by the little girl, four times Mommy counts and coerces. With the nurse present, she called the pharmacy to make sure we were doing the right doses, all the kids came streaming out into the living room to watch, Seth had to pepper the nurse with questions (mostly related to whether she was required to be there), and the whole thing just seemed more complicated. We left town that afternoon and I've managed to give her the medicine (on vacation) without fanfare for three days now. She's getting smart about it and yesterday I had to give her a swallow of coke to help her get them down.

Thank you for all of your emails and comments before the procedure and since then. Sorry I've been so late in posting about the day.

Just another day

If I pepper the 'update' posts with pictures, will they be more easily digested? Today I took Salomae, Ella, and Josiah to see the pediatric hematologist. The IDS (see post from a few days ago for that acronym) discovered that Salomae is anemic. Compared to major medical issues at the forefront, anemia isn't a main concern right now. Neither is the hernia that the surgeon discovered a few weeks ago. Did I forget to mention those little 'issues'? Whoops. Insert photo montage of children now.

Dear children took out their aggressions today with fun noodles. Much better results than earlier usage of light sabers. Yes, that would be two older brothers beating the little-sister-who-wears-a-back-brace-to-keep-from-being-paralyzed. And I'm taking pictures. Fun noodle beating is likened to tapping a friend with a feather. Not that I've ever actually been hit by a fun noodle. Perhaps tomorrow...

It looks like they are having a wonderful time together. Real good quality time, taking out aggressions in a healthy way. I'm such a good mom. It's bound to happen though. The big brother gets cocky with his noodley skills. He looses control of his body and lands on the smaller brother. He's got moves and I've got great shutter speed on my new camera.
The after effects of the genius lunge-swing-fly noodle move. "I think my arm muscle got broke."
Once the drama dies down, I notice that the sweet silent baby is quiet because 1-he's mesmerized by the action and 2-he's snacking on clover. This is his, "Don't think about telling ME not to eat grass" look. He's 75 stuck in an 8 month old body. The sheer torture.

We started off the morning by racing around to be timely to our 9 am appointment with the blood specialist (aka pediatric hematologist). I followed the directions to perfection but somehow we end up in the pediatric oncology wing. Assuming that I'm mistaken I asked the receptionist where I should be. Oddly enough, we were at the right place. Because, I guess, when your blood tests come back like Salomae's did a few weeks ago...the doctors think you might have leukemia. If that doesn't beat all the rest of the happenings. Nice of them to let me hear that from the specialist while sitting there with the children. I'll insert another picture now.

Thankfully, the hematologist had mercy on me and only let a few hours pass before she called with the results from today. Salomae's blood work was normal. Still waiting on the anemia thing to be cleared up. Probably still having bone marrow drawn on Thursday, just because. After talking to the Health Department, two doctors, and two pharmacies; I think we are set for getting Salomae's medications started on Friday. Nice that the Health department sends a dear soul over to the house to help me dose my child. I may be incapable of making her drink the four liquids that are required. Daily. I'm wondering if they think we will have to hold her down. Maybe she can help with some housework after we do the medicine. Or maybe she can do the medicine while I get a load of laundry going.

By mid-afternoon things were not looking good at our house. We were trying to ride bikes to the library, but Josiah kept puking on me. I changed him, then me. Then him, then me. Then wondered if we would really smell all that bad if we just kept the pukey clothes on. Then changed him and me. We made it out and back alive. Then Salomae locked herself in the bathroom. It had to be the kid who doesn't speak English. While I was cooking dinner and talking to the husband who is enjoying calmness in a hotel room. Did I mention that? He's out of town. Fish sticks all around, followed by popsicles outside. Here's one sane second of the day. No one flipped off of the hammock or threw another child off in the taking of this photo.

It's a perfect end to a very. Long. Day.