Author: Tammy

Life Changing

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Our lives are about to change….again.

Yesterday as we met with a team of 4 specialists in Tampa, Florida at Shriner’s Hospital I realized that they were about to change our lives.  They are giving Little Man the gift of walking on two feet rather than on his knees.  It brought tears to my eyes as I realized that we were going to be able to teach him to walk with the help of these amazing folks.  It also struck fear in my heart that this boy is about to get even faster and able to get into even more cabinets!  Aiyee, Lord have mercy!!

It is going to be a very busy month….three more five hour trips to Tampa.  But these guys are the best in Florida and they know what they are doing.  There is some uniqueness to his case and I was so impressed on how they pulled in more doctors, made a plan together and educated us on our options.  It gave us the confidence that we needed and makes the long drives and overnight visits worth it!

Two huge praises….there were no major surprises (you never know what new x-rays could bring up) and he does not need surgery!  We are beyond thankful!   As he grows things could change, but the doctors educated us on what to look for and what future care would look like.  It felt like a simple walk in the park!

The second part of the day was spent with an amazing woman who will be making Little Man a leg and a brace.  Her 23 years of experience and easygoing manner made the afternoon fun even though we were buried in plaster!  They made molds and explained the process of fittings, the steps in making the leg and the physical therapy afterward.  It really is amazing what they can do and looked like a piece of artwork in process.

We would appreciate your prayers as we travel each week this month back to Tampa.  Can’t wait to share photos of our little man walking in a few weeks.

I forget

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We have had an amazing time putting together small gifts to fill shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child.  Each of the kids filled a box for a child their age; it was funny to see what they wanted to put in “their” box and how closely it was tied to their personalities.

After our shopping trip we were talking over dinner.  The conversation was much as I anticipated at first.  We talked about how much we have and how so many in the world have nothing.  I was trying to impress them with the idea that new toothbrushes, a barbie and some school supplies would be the Christmas gift of some child’s dream.  After making a donation on line for shipping the boxes we also found out that you can track your boxes.  The kids were thrilled and each speculated where their box might end up.

That is when Little Monkey jumped into the conversation.

“I hope mine goes to China.”

No surprise there.  Our girl is very passionate about praying for China, keeping her Chinese language skills and eating her rice!  It was the next statement that made me choke on my meatloaf.

“I remember what it is like to have nothing.  The first day in your family you gave me lots of presents.  Then I knew I wouldn’t be hungry or without a Christmas ever again.  I want my box to go to a little girl waiting for a family.  Cause nannies at an orphanage can give them nothing.”

She is a normal 5 year old so much of the time.  She loves to dance with her tutu on, fights with her sister and whines that she hates my meatloaf.  But at times, I simply forget.  I forget that she has come from such a difficult beginning.

She carries these memories and in a way it shapes her.  She is healing – is now happy and adjusted, but our girl was abandoned,  deprived of basic needs, and without love for many years.  Being adopted into our family doesn’t automatically erase all of that.   The warm fuzzy side of adoption could claim that once our kids are in a family – viola – all is right with the world.  This probably won’t be a popular statement….but I just don’t think that is true.  Just like anything else that is filled with benefits and blessings…..adoption is hard work.  It takes a life time of reassuring our kids that we won’t abandon them, their needs will be met and there is unconditional love.

Hopeless?

No way!

Sure the first few years without anything have shaped our Little Monkey, but look how she is responding!  She now is a little girl with deep compassion and endless empathy.  It gives me chills thinking of what God will accomplish through her life.  Now that is a warm fuzzy that I believe in!

One more thing I believe in…

When my 5 year old looks at me and says “I remember what it was like to have nothing”  and, “I waited so long for you to come get me”  it reminds me of what I am called to and why we can’t stop.

 

“Defend the cause of the fatherless.”  Isaiah 1:17

Interested in Operation Christmas Child?    http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/OCC/

Interested in finding more resources on advocating for the fatherless?  http://orphansunday.org/

Is adoption for you?  http://lifelinechild.org/

Feel called to pray for the children who are waiting?  http://wonderfulwaitingkids.com/

Pure Joy

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He kissed me.

Be still my heart.  I believe Little Man is falling in love with his mom.   What greater joy could exist?

We were tossing and turning – going through our normal bedtime routine of trying to get him comfortable.  He can be so funny as he tries not to go to sleep.  He tickles me.  Sings and tries to play games.  The trick is for me not to react.  I rock and snuggle, but absolutely no playing, laughing or talking.  If I break those rules I am in for another 30 minutes of “wrestle the toddler.”  Not the most fun game at the end of a long day.

I know he was just trying to stall.  He didn’t want to sleep and he has used the kissing trick many times before…..by leaning in for me to kiss him.  (Yes, if he leans in I kiss.  How can I not?)  Tonight he planted a wet gooey one on me.  The first kiss he has offered me other than a blown one from his hand.  I broke all the rules.  I laughed and almost cried while telling my sweet boy that I love him.  He didn’t fall asleep until 10pm.

I love being his mom.  I really can’t describe the joy that he has brought to our home.

Well, maybe one more story will help you to catch a glimpse.

He has HATED having his diaper changed.  We are talking tantrum city.  I had enough last week and in one of my weaker mommy moments declared, “if you are going to pitch a fit about your diaper change then you need to just go on the potty.”  I marched him to the toilet and told him in Chinese to go potty.

He did.

Wait a minute.  Could it be?

Yup.  For 2 months we have subjected this poor guy to diapers when he has been trained.  No wonder he was pitching fits.  Since he isn’t talking much it has been a bit if a guessing game.  Really he is training me.  Hah!  So this week has been a new adventure with a little one in undies whose tushy is to little for any I can find.

[Okay, now for the joy part of this long story.]

He loves flushing the toilet and watching the water swirl and go down.  Loves it.  The first time he pooped in the toilet he flushed, blew it a kiss, waved at it and gleefully cried, “bye! bye!”

Joy!

I want to love life that much and take joy in the simple fun of swirling running water that takes my poop away.  Isn’t that great? 😉  Isn’t adoption great?!  How am I so lucky to be the mother of this sweet one?

Pumpkins, Fire Ants & Beaches

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For today’s friday field trip we went to the beach – we marked off all of the birds from our water fowl category today.  Gotta love 80 degree weather at the end of October and an afternoon of all four kids happily digging a big hole together.  This momma loves the beach!

Before you get jealous let me tell you about something in Florida that I don’t love.  Fire ants.

Yesterday, we carved our pumpkins on the back patio.  (Another point in the love Florida column.   Now, will I love making wreaths on the back patio for Christmas?  The jury is still out on that one.)  The kids girls were having a great time working on their pumpkins.  The boys quickly moved on to the swing set.  Little Man has decided that grass isn’t so bad and is now venturing out beyond the cement.  This is a huge step for him.

The boys were happily exploring and playing and the girls were happily drawing and carving.  Oh the bliss of a peaceful moment…..when I have such a thought is always when it hits – whammo!

Before I knew what was happening both boys were yelling and Soccer Dude was stripping off Little Man’s clothes.  In the time that it took me to run the few steps our poor little guy was covered in fire ants that were biting him.   I am so thankful that Soccer Dude thought to take off his clothes so quickly and proud of him for diving in to help his brother even though it meant he also got bit several times on his hands.

Once I got past the panic of the moment and after I had doctored up their blisters and passed out mommy compassion, I actually felt a bit thankful for the tragedy.  Their shared pain revealed a newly formed brotherly bond and reminded me of God’s mercy in my life.

Funny how a bit of pain can actually unearth beauty and reveal God’s healing hand in our lives.  If only I didn’t need the pain to discover the beauty – but so often in my life they go hand in hand.   It is in the midst of pain I know that God is near.  I reach my hand out and accept the Savior I need.   He is there waiting – quickly stripping me of what holds me back and wiping away the sin that causes the hurt.

Take what I can get.

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I dropped the clay mold of Little Monkey’s handprint that she made for me on our first Mother’s Day together.  It shattered into a million pieces.  I wept.

The broken clay laying around my feet mocked me.  It was one more memory lost which triggered the grief that sits on the surface of my heart.  There are so many things I have lost from my two adopted children- knowledge,  moments, memories, photos.  It stinks.

I didn’t breastfeed them.  I didn’t rejoice when they first slept through the night.  I missed their first tooth and I have no idea what solid foods they started eating.  I wasn’t there to wipe tears or to hear giggles.  We missed much.

It has been two months and we can’t figure out how to comfort our Little Man at bedtime.  He refuses to go to sleep.  We have tried rocking, singing, laying him down, rubbing his tummy, sitting next to him.  Nothing seems to help our boy.  He simply tosses and turns for up to an hour until he finally passes out in exhaustion.  His only source of comfort coming from his thumb and twirling his spiky hair.

His file held one line about bedtime – “he plays till he sleeps.”  My only clue…..what could it mean?

This is when I feel the loss of time.  If only I could have been there for him from the beginning.  He wouldn’t have to fall asleep on his own in an over crowded room in the orphanage.  There would have been no crib mate to play with until he fell asleep.  Instead he would have known my arms.  If only….

I guess it doesn’t help to cry over broken clay.  We can only press forward making new memories, learning from each other in order to bridge the gaps.

For now I sit on the floor next to my baby’s crib waiting for him to fall asleep.  I refuse to leave.  I am not really sure how to help him – I guess I am hoping that it will just click for both of us.  I will all of a sudden learn what he needs and he will be ready to accept what comfort I have to offer.

Last night as he was tossing and turning he paused.  He lifted the bumper pad and peeked underneath the corner.  We were peeking at each other….eye to eye.  He dropped the bumper, laid down and stuck his fingers through the slates toward my hand.

I think I will glue the clay pieces of Little Monkey’s handprint back together.  Something is better than nothing.  I will take what I can get.

 

Friday Field Trip

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We had an amazing day visiting a State Park that has a natural spring.  We went hoping to see birds (that is what we are studying in science at the Williams Home Academy) but were thrilled to also see manatees!   It was a great day of hiking, bird watching, boating and plain old family fun!

Here are a few photos from our day starting with Roo “pretending” to be a bird.


Not Where, but Who

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Hubby and I joke that our marriage is cross-cultural.  South unites with North.  (Yes, the jokes that could be inserted here are endless.)

The first few years we really did have a lot of learning to do.  I taught My Love that cooking didn’t equal frying everything or adding bacon grease.  He taught me that Red Lobster is not real sea food.  I started saying “ya’ll.”  (It really does kinda roll off the tongue without one thinking about it.)   He learned to drive in the snow.  This list also could be endless.

After 13 years of marriage, I thought I had become one with the South proven by the fact that I have grits in my pantry and I know how to cook cornbread with real grease.  Then we moved to the South.

The special at the supermarket…..catfish.  I don’t know how to cook catfish!!!  Everyone knows everyone and my children all of a sudden are calling me Ma’am, wanting to hunt and drinking sweet tea.  To top it off, I am pretty sure the accent that is forming in my very Asian looking daughter can only be referred to as…..I don’t know – Southern.

I prepared for and expected culture shock in Asia.  Southern small town culture shock has taken me by surprise.

I was telling a good friend about our move and the transitions that I was needing to make – again.   I was having a “I miss China day” and looking for a bit of sympathy for my tired old self who doesn’t want to keep moving from place to place.  Her reply, “It is who you are not where you are that matters.”

I needed those words.

I have a calling to fulfill.  I can be about His work while eating Chinese dumplings or chicken ‘n’ dumplings.  The place shouldn’t matter.  What does matter is my willingness to love those around me well.  I need to open myself up to new experiences and new relationships so that God can show me what plan He has for me in this place.

I learned to eat with chopsticks.  I can learn how to fry catfish.

Just like it but different

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I sat on the footstool in the middle of the dark garage bawling my eyes out.  Exhausted, obviously emotional and the proud new mother of a four year old.  I had dreamed of this season of life for years and after months of paperwork I should have been over the moon.

I was….but so much more.

I had a good silent cry and was considering the half gallon of cookie dough ice cream in our freezer.   On the way to the freezer my dear hubby said a few words that jolted me.

“You felt just like this when the other two were infants.  It is just like having a newborn.”

Those two simple sentences helped me so much.  I just needed to label it.  I was exhausted from being up in the night with a child who was trying to adjust to a new home and a new family.  It was like fighting a world war to get the sweet girl to sleep and then we threatened everyone within miles who might make noise.  We were trying to figure out how much she ate, what she wanted to eat and when.   I never knew when she would cry and I was learning how to soothe her.  Just like having an infant.

Like my dad used to joke….just like it but different.

(Besides no diapers!) The major difference was the lack of grace extended.

When you have a newborn everyone bends over backwards to help.  They peek at your screaming bundle, smile, and call him cute.  You are expected to get up in the middle of church.  You are called a good mom when you stand at the nursery door to “check one more time that he is okay.”  Even the dark circles under my eyes and the few extra pounds from late night ice cream snacks were accepted.

Somehow when the same things were happening with my new daughter….the grace wasn’t extended.  No smiles when our new daughter was having a meltdown at the library and I had no idea what to do.   And I certainly wasn’t showing myself grace as I wept in the garage.  “What was wrong with me?  How could I be so tired, and so emotional?” I moaned as I went for my comfort snack.

Heading into our second adoption I joked that it was like a paper pregnancy.   Here is the other side of the story. It takes your body some time to bounce back after that paper-pregnancy.  Okay, okay this might be extending the metaphor a bit to far, but hang in there with me!    I am in the midst of an emotional adjustment.

Kinda cool actually.

I love that I am going through this adjustment right along side of them.  They are not alone.  I am in this messy transition too.

What helps when my two year old is pitching the tantrum of the century in the grocery store parking lot because he doesn’t like the car seat?   As I am getting the stink eye from the whole town who seem to be at the store at that blessed moment – I remember that he is only 6 weeks old.   He has the family age of 6 weeks….he is learning that I will meet his needs just like I am learning that shopping right after nap times doesn’t seem to work well.    We are learning together.

Give us a few more weeks.  The bags under my eyes should be gone and we will shop with more confidence.  Until then – I need to go sleep when the toddler sleeps.

real mom

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Tonight I am exhausted.  Because today was a full throttle type of day (on the go mommy with no down time) it means you are about to get an uncensored blog post.  Just saying…..

Because we have just moved, we are encountering a lot of adoption questions from many new friends.  I have a love hate relationship with adoption questions.  One of my passions is telling everyone and anyone about the blessings of adoption.  Ask the folks who I met today at the park, grocery store and my new next door neighbor…..I am sure they will tell you I talk a bit too much about adoption!

On the other hand – I struggle in knowing how to answer adoption questions well and to convey everything that is in my heart without betraying the children I love so much.  Betray might seem like a strong word.  But, I can answer a question at the park of “where is her real mom?” in a way that honors my children or betray their stories and trust.  It is hard to know where to draw the line in the sand.  Most of the time these questions feel like people are wanting us to defend our relationship and to a five year old she wonders why so many people question her place in our family.

I think the questions don’t really come out the way people intend.  They are curious – wonder about a mom who can love children who don’t look like her.  They want to understand our relationship and want to know about adoption.  (At least in my less cynical moments I choose to believe this!)

“Are you her real mom?”

How I usually respond: “I am her mom.”

The speech I want to give:

I am the one who knew deep in my heart that I had more love to give.  I needed her and she needed me.   I am the real mom who struggled for three years to figure out how we could afford an adoption and be approved to become adoptive parents.  I am the one who exposed all of my personal information about my marriage, finances, personal history, parenting and even turned over the record on how I care for my dog in order to be eligible to be her real mom.  I am the one who waited, worried, wondered until the moment she joined our family.    I clean our her scraped knees and marvel over how she is learning to read.   I discipline her, forgive her and extend her grace.  When she hurts – I hurt.  When she rejoices – I am her number #1 cheerleader.  I will love her forever and always.  My love for her is not fake.  Does that all make me a real mom?

The true answer:

God bound our hearts together.  Nothing is more real then that.

Being an adoptive parent takes a lot of wisdom that I don’t always have.  Praying that God helps me to share the miracle of adoption with others in a way that is filled with grace.   He extended grace to me and adopted me into His family the least I can do is share that miracle with others and live my life (including how I parent and answer questions at the park) in a manor worthy of the Gospel.  I am striving toward that goal.

Tomorrow’s blog post – How I answered the kid starring at Little Man’s missing leg and then asked…. “Does he only have one leg?”  (Sneak peek……how Hubbie would answer – “What?!  He only has one?  We must have dropped the other one.  Help me look?!”)

Hubbie requested an edit.  He would not reply as I stated above.  His new reply is – “Yes he has one leg.  Shark attack.  You gotta watch out at the beach.  You never know…..”  🙂

Our New Normal

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Six weeks ago we adopted our amazing son.

Three weeks ago we packed up our lives and moved to Florida.

This week we started homeschooling in earnest.

Our family has gone through a lot of transitions in the past month and a half (to say the least).  I am thankful that we are now entering into the settling in phase.  Most of the boxes are getting unpacked.  Our lives are starting to form a rhythm and I am beginning to see what the new “normal” might look for us with our little village.

Normal – Poo in a box in the car port.  “What is this?”  I ask the kids knowing our dog Dewey didn’t climb in a box.    Turtle poop of course….I should have known that huge turtles make huge poo.  Silly mommy.  You wouldn’t believe the things that my son has found in our new yard.  The house we are renting is ruining us for ever living in town again.   Pockets filled with sand, boxes with turtles in them, lizards and frogs in my kitchen – could this really be my new normal? The industrial size hand sanitizer was on my list for the supermarket.

Normal – you know – one cart filled with kids while dragging the other behind me filled with groceries.  Praising Jesus we made it through the list without a mommy meltdown, head to the check out line when a sweet voice calls out “I need to go potty.”  40 minutes later, two potty trips, a blow out diaper (using a lot of hand sanitizer) before putting melted ice cream on the cashier belt to be paid for.  Normal.

Normal – A sweet older woman at the door of the grocery store patting me on the back and asking.  “Honey are all those yours?”  At my nod she says, “you sure have your hands full.”

At times I do feel like I have my hands full – but even more I feel like my heart is full.   That is a great normal.

On a side note…..I am not complaining that our new normal is only an hour from the beach.  Loving it!  Now can this mom get a photo of all 4 kids looking at the camera to show you all how cute they are digging in the sand…..NOOOO.  Normal!

side story of why I have beach photos in the middle of the craziest month of my life.  Well…..our house wasn’t quite ready for us to move in when we first arrived in Florida.  What could have been stressful ended up being a huge blessing.  Generous friends set us up at a place on the beach.  we all had a great time.  Little Man LOVED the ocean and the sand.  Can you believe this guy was in an orphanage a month before this photo was taken?!  He looks like he was born for the beach! 🙂  He is adjusting well to life with our family.  Kinda wondering if we are in a “honeymoon” phase with our easy going, happy, little man.  Eating great, sleeping great, called Bryan “Dad” for the first time today.  Amazing.  Guess God knew that we needed easy for this season of life!