Parent v. Father Time

When I look at this photo the cliche is very real, it seems like yesterday.

In November of 2009 #2 went to cotillion. She looked lovely and we had a great evening. All her friends looked lovely. BUT they all looked like little girls who were dressed up to be big girls for the evening.

Friday night was the BT middle school 'proper dance.' The culmination of a week of dance study in PE class. The event of the year if you are a 7th or 8th grade girl. There are a few boys who love it too. So it was night to show off new dance skills and dress up.

Seems like a re-do of the cotillion experience. WRONG!

This is my hairless, smiling baby now. She is my right arm. I held on to her baby hood with a fierce passion.

The difference is that in November of 2009 #2 dressed up LIKE a big girl. Friday night she was every bit a big girl. A young woman. No getting around it. And she was stunning. I drove away from school with a lump in my throat. Teary eyed and proud. Such a terrific young lady. So far from the 6th grader glaring at me for making her dance with a boy. Light years from the chubby, hairless, baby that loved me more than anything.

It wasn't always like this.

But this is exactly how my heart remembers them as young sisters.

Just to make sure that I didn't miss the message of the week, God sent me another message about the passage of time. Saturday night the hubby and I got all dressed up and headed out to 'Conge!' Duchesne's big yearly fundraiser. We have gone probably 10 times in the 15 years that we have had Duchesne in our lives. The DASH girls in their Fairmont plaid work the event, smiling, hostessing, chatting happily with their teachers who attend. For years I remember thinking that I would one day attend the event with a young woman in tow. Saturday night was that night. I spoke that observation outloud and #1 said, UM you aren't going to get all mushy now are you? So I didn't. But I wanted to . And inside I was mushy.

This is #1. I love her even though she wears sandals to a winter photo.

She is the sunshine in the family and a true blessing.

Day after day I watch them grow up. A recent read of mine contained the quote, "The days are long, but the years are short." Never has that felt more true. I chose to change their lives in a drastic way. The last year has been a real roller coaster of celebrations, challenges, joy and frustration. I have been able to count on them every step of the way. I have watched them giggle and tackle and tickle and spank, drag, yell, stomp and ultimately hug.

Later this week we will celebrate a big anniversary. Today I celebrate the fact that without #1 and #2 I have no idea what today would hold. I hope I learn to savor every minute of those long days. The short years will take my girls on to bigger and better things before I know it.

Old Habits die hard

As nearly a year has passes it is amazing how many changes this one family has undergone. It is more amazing how many things have stayed the same.

We have learned new bed time routines, potty training techniques, the current philosophy on time outs, that the transition to high school is hard, that the transition to 7th grade causes great blossoming. We have hung on to a varied and some times experimental weekly menu, watching movies on a computer in bed, too much sports (for some) on the weekends, being too busy.

She is playing A team and starting and showing so much promise! I was so proud!

I learned last week at #2's first basketball game of the year that I was not too busy with little ones to coach from the other side of the court. Apparently I have not learned that this is not actually an effective tactic. An old habit my husband and mother say I must vanquish.

I learned that even after being home nearly a year and having never been asked to do so #3 still wants to take time to polish her school shoes. This is an old habit we could all stand to gain.

Unfortunately the old habit that has me the mostworried right now is my tendency to do too much. Say yes to whomever asks. Add projects because 'they won't be that hard.'

With lovely twins, #3 who needs to cuddle and be close to her mom, #2 who needs to plan for the next day and re hash the current one and #1 who doesnt really need me for anything, but just in case she shows up and asks, I want to be there, all at home; well, it makes time away painful. I must work more efficiently and guard my time more protectively.

Fortunately, the habit of being a mom to 5 is really starting to settle in and every once in awhile I feel like I got it right.

More Firsts- some brave, some stupid

It is pretty brave to lay on the floor in our house. You are fair game for 'tackle and tickle.'

Doesn't everyone wish they had a job like a forecaster? You can be right or wrong or some of both and no one really holds it against you. So as the weather changed from 2-4, 3-6, 8-12, back to 2-4, and so on, last Sunday 1/9, I started to think we might be in for it. And sure enough by 9p.m. we had a snow day call.

#1 and #2 were elated! Much rejoicing ensued. #3, "What's a snow day?"

Big girls, "A day with no school!"

#3 "Buts I likes school!"

Big girls, "We do too, but we like a break sometimes."

#3, "I donts really needs a break. I m going to school."

Totally love that my big girls dove in to the fun. The result was all 5 at the table for a long time!

Of course when she woke up and the doors were drifted closed, she changed her mind.

Sledding, hot cocoa and snacks all before lunch didn't hurt either.

At that point we were sort of out of ideas. So I quick called Nana. Then I hit the kitchen with a plan. 15 minutes later I had hot, fresh and brightly colored homemade playdough ready!

5 minutes after that I had 5 kids at the table making pizza, pies, balls, flowers, you name it, they made it! All 5 of them. Lots of giggling, lots of mess. Some eating, throwing and mashing of the play dough did occur. Seeing the big girls dig in and reminisce made all the clean up worth it. #3 couldn't believe her good fortune. Cooking utensils, dough in colors and her big sisters all at the table with her. Amazing.

So much work going on! And yes, any eating of dough was done by Bruiser.

Monday night found us watching the list of schools run across the bottom of the screen. Big girls hoping, fingers crossed. #3 complaining. "I am done with a break. I needs school!"

But mother nature sided with the oldest in the house and Tuesday was another break.

Stupid teacher mom activity: using snow, a pound of butter and all the maple syrup in the house to make ice cream, Laura Ingalls Wilder style. Didnt really work. But #1 gave it a try.

Needed or not.

Too cold to sled so more playdough, painting and games. By Tuesday night we were all tired and probably ready for a routine. But we had made it through a 4 day weekend, had a lot of fun and weren't angry with each other.

That was a first!

Happy? Anniversary.

I know we saved Nettie's life. The vacant stare in this photo is all we got until we had her evaluated and learned she couldn't hear nor breathe correctly. Her sunny personality and love of snuggling bring me more joy than I ever hoped for.

This is Mr. Man John John one of the first photos we had. He was the orphanage pet. However, he came home ready to love and be loved. His intelligence is the first thing you notice about him...OK, after his beautiful eyes.

I have posted this one before. The photo that started it all. #3's trade mark smile is no where to be seen. In fact we wouldn't see a smile for nearly a year.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010 was completely unremarkable right up to the moment when it wasn't.

So many people say things like 'I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when: Kennedy was shot, the space shuttle blew up, 9-11 happened'...on and on.

Honestly I have been trying to remember what I was doing, where I was, how I felt the exact minute I heard about the earthquake. I just don't remember.

I know I got home and we put on PBS news hour. For the first hours we were worried about a tsunami. When that warning was removed we felt pretty certain that our orphanage was safe. It is built to American specifications, outside Port Au Prince and the buildings are only one story.

That was little comfort as we watched the news coverage of the devastation. Having been there we just knew it would be horrendous. We prayed a rosary. We tried to keep our big girls from feeling the hysteria that was creeping in to my heart and soul.

I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I did sob that night and tell my husband that it was over. That little cinder block building and the spiral notebook that was our only proof of intent in the courts could never have survived. It was over. I sobbed till nearly sick.

My husband came at it differently. First he said we wait to hear that they are all safe. After that we contact anyone who will listen because this earthquake is going to bring our children home.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010 found me at parent teacher conferences fielding a million questions for which I had no answer. At 12:10p.m. an email from Holt came through, the orphanage was OK. No one hurt, all buildings standing, children sleeping outside just to be safe. I did an interview with the world herald. I sounded like an idiot.

Friday, January 15th an update from the Joint Council on Children's Services came over the email at 9:45p.m. The state department had approved children who were in the last phase of the process, waiting for visas. The final sentences stated that this was the end of their approvals. I sobbed myself to sleep.

We called our congressmen and senators. We wrote Oprah and Hilary Clinton. Everyone we knew did the same. Then CNN covered the 109 children flown home to the Netherlands and the Netherlands' government saying they didn't know how they would finish the process but those children had families waiting and Haiti wasn't safe. Finally I thought, we had a chance.

Such Beauty in Haiti. It is all around.

Yet, the people from Haiti don't get to experience the beauty as part of their lives.

Sure enough another JCICS email stated that they were working on levels of the process to qualify more children. By the end of the next week we knew Vialancia would be coming home. We waited with every nerve focused to find out about the twins. We had some of what was needed, but the process was so young...

A big break came from a government mistake! Our original 171H form approved us for childREN. It had never been changed. We drove a homestudy for all 3 children to immigration. The woman behind the counter replied, 'as far as I am concerned this is the only one I have seen.' Another step closer.

Our school communities rallied, our friends rallied. Fairy godmother's mom was ready to commandeer a plane, hide in a box of medical supplies and steal our children home, and others. We are devout democrats, but Mike Johanns office was on it to the last minute trying to help us. Holt, well, they were just amazing, tireless, dogged, amazing. I was glad we had an agency and weren't doing this independently. All the fees seemed more than worth it (we are still paying some of those fees) They worked and worked.

On Friday, January 29, 2010 the state department called and reported that Jeannette and Vialancia had been granted humanitarian parole. It was the beginning of a joyous ride.

For the first time in 2 weeks I had hope. For the first time in 4 years, I had hope. That is where #3 gets her middle name, HOPE. Because in that word is so much.

We are watching the coverage of the anniversary on various news outlets. We are watching documentaries about Haiti. We have followed the cholera outbreak, the political unrest, the continued poverty and devastation.

On this year anniversary we attended #3's parent teacher conference. She is 'developing' or 'proficient' in everything on the list. In one year. From earthquake to success at a private school, in a new language, with a new family. I am so proud of her. So grateful.

But truly a part of me thinks, 'see what a Haitian child can do?' Can't someone give those other children, hundreds of thousands of them, a chance? With resources the entire country could make such progress.

So on this anniversary I pray again. In gratitude for the homecoming of my children and their success and our adoption process. In gratitude for all the support from those around me. In gratitude for the way our family and friends have embraced our children. But also for mercy on the Haitian people. With sadness and desperation I pray for salvation for these people, for peace, health, for rest where there is unrest, for hope where they feel hopelessness.

Shortly after knowing our children would come home Thomas and I met for lunch at a quiet bistro near school. I looked at him, tears in eyes, and admitted some guilt. I had prayed for years for our children to come home. I had prayed with reckless abandon, 'please God no matter how or why just bring my babies home.' I have prayed this daily, multiple times a day with my whole heart and soul. Suddenly as their homecoming neared I was plagued with the thought, " I am benefitting from an earthquake. I think I prayed an earthquake." My lovely husband didn't laugh at me or become angry. He took my hand and reassured me. We don't know the ways of the Lord. He doesn't have to make sense. We don't know his plan. BUT he said, I think it is safe to say that God didn't answer YOUR prayer by sending an earthquake to Haiti.

When I look back at the whole process, the odd way things worked in our favor and then didn't, I can see a plan. I can see how it worked in such a wonderful way for us. My heart breaks because I feel this one year after the devastation and so many Haitians have no relief.

I continue to pray and hope and love. It is all I can do. And hug my 5 children every day.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen
Such Joy and Love.

15 years- Nothing stupid about it!

Taken in Haiti just minutes before we met #3 for the first time.

We have both aged since this photo was taken!

15 years ago today it was 5 degrees outside. The only stupid part of the day was that after my hair appointment I took the car to fill it with gas and wanted to get it washed. The guy looked at me like I was nuts: wedding veil, hair up fancy, 5 degrees and I wanted to douse the car in water.

Needless to say we had a dirty car for the honey moon drive.

In 15 years we have been through an awful lot. Most of the vows we made together have been tested. Sickness and health - check. For Richer or Poorer- check. Good time and Bad-check.

Still together. Still in love.

1 house, 3 dogs, 5 kids, 2 good jobs. Parents who love each other.

I have never said, "Thomas is my best friend." There isn't an element of 'besties' about us. We are partners in every sense. Lovers. Parents. A force to be reckoned with if we decide to fight something. There is a confidence in our relationship that I think we both feel. It works. We fight passionately. I pick fights more often. We compliment each other's strengths and balance each other's faults. While the checkbook hasn't always balanced, there is balance in our marriage. I have always felt that my marriage was a bit different than most. I can't really explain it. Maybe it comes from the fact that we dated just 6 months, were engaged for one month and married just 9 months before we were parents. Maybe it is just the mature nature of two first borns marrying each other.

My mother once said she didn't think I was meant to marry a teacher. My mother once warned Thomas that I would be difficult to be married to. My mother also told me that she never questions our marriage because whenever my husband looks at me she knows how much he loves me.

I know it too. And love him for it.