This was the promise God made to us in John 14:18, and it is a promise He keeps every day as He brings children home to their Forever Families.
It is a promise He kept and reminded us all of tonight.
Only hours ago, I posted about Gabby. I posted a plea for her... for someone to rescue her... for everyone to pray for her... for others to share her story. I posted that I didn't understand why on earth she hadn't been chosen yet. How desperate her situation was. How she had less than two weeks to find a family, before her file went back to the government in her country and she may never be listed for adoption again. How she would die if she was left in that orphanage for the rest of her life.
Does this sound familiar? More familiar than just earlier today? That's right - don't you remember last month, when I posted about Sarah... only to post later the same week that she had found a family?
Do you see where I'm going with this?
That's right...
Gabby can now be found on Reece's Rainbow... under My Family Found Me... where the children are listed who have families coming for them! GABBY'S MAMA IS COMING! She will be an orphan no more! She has been found! Christ kept His promise... He did not leave her an orphan. He came to her - and He brought her Mama with Him.
HALLELUJAH, LORD ALMIGHTY!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Something I just don't understand.
I'm going to be completely honest here, and say that for once, the subject of international adoption has me baffled. For once, my faith is shaken and I am confused and hurt and sad and afraid. Most of my experience in the international adoption community has been the complete opposite of this - it has given me renewed faith where mine was weak, purpose where I felt none, comfort when I felt despair. I have seen God move in ways I had never been witness to before.
But today is different. Today I despair. Today I ask "Why?" Today, I pray that my fears are not the truth.
Nearly a year ago, when the conditions in one Eastern European orphanage were discovered by an adoptive mother visiting her future daughter, when it came out that the children there were being purposely starved, confined to cribs 24 hours a day, lying in their own filth, never receiving even a modicum of human contact... when it was discovered that teenagers the size of babies lay all but forgotten on the top floor of this institution... that the institution averaged one death a month, not to unavoidable illness or accident, but to wholly preventable causes like starvation, abuse, illness brought on by lack of care, or having simply given up...
There was an outcry. An outcry from God's people that, NO, we CANNOT let this happen, that we MUST come to the aid of these children, that these tragedies MUST come to an end. Within months, every other child listed from that institution on Reece's Rainbow had a committed family. Little Katie Musser came home, where she thrived. The child who so many would have deemed unlovely, undesirable, "not what we're looking for"... blossomed into a child beloved across the globe. Her nearly tragic story touched lives and changed hearts... including my own.
I couldn't tell you how many people, after all the children from that institution had committed families, inquired about how to adopt a child from that specific institution. People wanted to bring these children home. They saw the immense need, the growing tragedy, and were moved to action. For a while, all we could say was, there are no more children available right now from that particular place, we'll let you know when there are. For a while, we prayed fervently on behalf of those left behind that God would intercede and allow them to be listed for adoption.
Then our prayers were answered. First, two more children were listed. Two precious little girls. I saw them the day they were listed, and I watched, and I waited, for them to be snapped up by all these families who had for months been clamoring to adopt a child from their institution.
And the girls waited.
And they waited.
And they waited.
Finally, one of them was chosen. I knew she would be chosen first. Her file photo was so simply endearing. Her friend though... continued to wait. Waited, until her time was slipping away... because in her country, an agency only has a child's file for two months before the file goes back to the government, possibly taking with it that child's only chance at life outside the institution. That day was two weeks away for this little girl, and we all began to scream for her. Why, when all these people had been asking "how can we help, how can we adopt", did this little girl still wait? Certainly by no fault of her own.
Finally a day came when I saw her little face on Reece's Rainbow's 'My Family Found Me' page. Does everyone remember Sarah, who I cried out for in this post? Yes. Sarah has a family coming for her. Hallelujah!
More children from the institution were listed. Some of them had committed families within days. Some of them waited weeks. One, though... one who was posted shortly after those first two girls... she waited... and waited... and waited... and waited...
Children who were listed after her were chosen... she waited...
Bloggers and advocates pleaded for her... she waited...
And still, Gabby waits, at That Horrible Place, that institution Katie came from that no child should ever have to call home.
Oh, sweet Gabby! Surely they could've taken this photo at a more flattering angle... I can barely even see you... but look at those precious cheeks, those long eyelashes, that cute little button nose! Look at that face, asking, "Won't somebody please be my Mama?"
This is what confuses me.
When so many people were so eager to adopt from Gabby's institution, when so many were just waiting for more children to be listed... WHY does Gabby still wait??
Is it her diagnoses? Her age? Her photo?
Here's what Reece's Rainbow says about Gabby.
Her age? DOB 2009. So she's two or three years old. No, she's still young, she hasn't entered that 'older child, difficult to place' stage of adoption as so many have... as Katie had. Just a toddler. Plenty of room for early intervention.
Her diagnoses? Well, to the untrained reader, they may sound scary. However, a little research from a committed person decodes this information fairly well. Microcephaly - Gabby has a small head, or small brain. Okay, so she may look physically different (we're not sure how much so since we can't see her head in relation to her body), and she may have cognitive limitations. Katie had Down Syndrome. Reece's Rainbow is a special needs adoption ministry. Cognitive limitations are not unexpected.
Cardiomyopathy... now that sounds scary. A basic understanding of medical terminology tells us that means something's wrong with her heart. But what? A quick internet search tells me that this essentially means that Gabby's heart is weaker than it should be, which can cause it to pump less effectively than it should. Well, that certainly sounds scary. But Gabby's description also indicates that her heart has not been checked since 2010. Two years of no treatment, no monitoring of this condition (and keep in mind that orphanage records can be incomplete or entirely inaccurate), and Gabby is still with us. Far be it from me to say this is an overall good sign - I'm not a doctor or nurse - but the fact that she's made it this far without intervention seems to me like a positive sign for how she would do with the comprehensive medical care available in the United States. More information may be available to a seriously interested family. I'm certain there are a number of families out there whose children suffer from the same condition who could serve as a resource and a support to any family considering adopting Gabby. This diagnosis, while initially scary, can certainly be better understood and dealt with.
Next up... "spastic quadriparesis"... otherwise known as cerebral palsy. Well, we've had so many children from Reece's Rainbow with CP adopted. CP can be as mild as a foot that doesn't function quite as well as the other one. There are so many RR parents out there who can help others understand CP better... and it's a physical disability - worst case, she may need a wheelchair! So what?
Gabby's diagnoses may be intimidating at first. Maybe that's what's holding families back. Maybe they're looking for a child with a simple diagnosis. But what they may not realize is that these complicated terms, these long diagnoses, are truly a blessing in disguise. Some children are labeled with nothing more than 'down syndrome', or 'moderate delays'. Adoptive parents are surprised when they go to meet their child and their needs are far beyond what they were expecting. Gabby has been given a detailed description of specific disabilities. With international adoption, you never quite know what you're going to get... a child whose diagnoses seem scary, but who comes home nearly 'normal'... or a child who is supposedly very mildly delayed who comes home where doctors discover a whole host of other issues. No child can guarantee us an 'easy ride' - and if that's what we're looking for, perhaps we need to re-examine why we're interested in international adoption. And for the committed family - there is help to both understand those diagnoses and deal with them... more help than you could imagine. Truly, if you are a family who has considered Gabby and this is what is holding you back, let that be an obstacle no more. Talk to other parents. Talk to your pediatrician. Talk to a physician at CHOP who specializes in internationally adopted children. Develop a plan. Give Gabby a chance. Without you, she most certainly won't have one at all.
The last possible explanation is the one I dread the most, the one I pray is not the truth. Could it be, that the hastily taken photo of Gabby, the one that shows only a little girl suffering, a shell of what she could be, is holding people back? Could it be that she hasn't been chosen yet because she is not as 'cute' as the other children? My heart aches for the thought that this could be it - because who among us is as beautiful on the outside as we are on the inside? Who among us could be as beautiful as we have the potential to be, were we unloved and made unlovely, as are the children of her institution?
Recently Katie's Mama, Susanna, posted a photo on her blog that was taken of Katie on a particularly horrible day, her passport photo. A very sick little girl. A sad little girl. Certainly not what our society would consider "a cute little baby/child". And yet, she came home, and she blossomed! You can view that post here. If we can all see the light that shines through Katie, that shone through her all along, through the filth and the unlovliness of orphanage life... surely we can see it in Gabby too?
No. I pray that is not the reason Gabby hasn't been chosen yet.
But then why? Why, when people were lining up to find out how to adopt a child from this institution, has no one come forward for this one? Gabby has only TWO WEEKS left to find a family. Two weeks, and her file goes back to the government. Two weeks, and we will have proven right all those people we sought to prove wrong, those people who are convinced that these children should remain in these institutions until they die (sooner, rather than later), because they are not of value. Let her file go back, and we only confirm that belief for them. Friends, just like with Sarah, we cannot let that happen.
Please. Share Gabby. Consider her. Link to this blog. Tell Gabby's short, sad story. Be a part of saving her life. Be a part of sending a message to her country and her institution that these children DO have value, and we DO want them. I cannot call any orphanage a 'good' orphanage... but Gabby's is one of the worst. No child deserves the fate that awaits her if she is not adopted. We have to get her out of there. Don't let any of these barriers hold you back from advocating for her, or, if you are meant to be her family, from adopting her. Don't let Gabby face the fate that awaits her without us.
But today is different. Today I despair. Today I ask "Why?" Today, I pray that my fears are not the truth.
Nearly a year ago, when the conditions in one Eastern European orphanage were discovered by an adoptive mother visiting her future daughter, when it came out that the children there were being purposely starved, confined to cribs 24 hours a day, lying in their own filth, never receiving even a modicum of human contact... when it was discovered that teenagers the size of babies lay all but forgotten on the top floor of this institution... that the institution averaged one death a month, not to unavoidable illness or accident, but to wholly preventable causes like starvation, abuse, illness brought on by lack of care, or having simply given up...
There was an outcry. An outcry from God's people that, NO, we CANNOT let this happen, that we MUST come to the aid of these children, that these tragedies MUST come to an end. Within months, every other child listed from that institution on Reece's Rainbow had a committed family. Little Katie Musser came home, where she thrived. The child who so many would have deemed unlovely, undesirable, "not what we're looking for"... blossomed into a child beloved across the globe. Her nearly tragic story touched lives and changed hearts... including my own.
I couldn't tell you how many people, after all the children from that institution had committed families, inquired about how to adopt a child from that specific institution. People wanted to bring these children home. They saw the immense need, the growing tragedy, and were moved to action. For a while, all we could say was, there are no more children available right now from that particular place, we'll let you know when there are. For a while, we prayed fervently on behalf of those left behind that God would intercede and allow them to be listed for adoption.
Then our prayers were answered. First, two more children were listed. Two precious little girls. I saw them the day they were listed, and I watched, and I waited, for them to be snapped up by all these families who had for months been clamoring to adopt a child from their institution.
And the girls waited.
And they waited.
And they waited.
Finally, one of them was chosen. I knew she would be chosen first. Her file photo was so simply endearing. Her friend though... continued to wait. Waited, until her time was slipping away... because in her country, an agency only has a child's file for two months before the file goes back to the government, possibly taking with it that child's only chance at life outside the institution. That day was two weeks away for this little girl, and we all began to scream for her. Why, when all these people had been asking "how can we help, how can we adopt", did this little girl still wait? Certainly by no fault of her own.
Finally a day came when I saw her little face on Reece's Rainbow's 'My Family Found Me' page. Does everyone remember Sarah, who I cried out for in this post? Yes. Sarah has a family coming for her. Hallelujah!
More children from the institution were listed. Some of them had committed families within days. Some of them waited weeks. One, though... one who was posted shortly after those first two girls... she waited... and waited... and waited... and waited...
Children who were listed after her were chosen... she waited...
Bloggers and advocates pleaded for her... she waited...
And still, Gabby waits, at That Horrible Place, that institution Katie came from that no child should ever have to call home.
Oh, sweet Gabby! Surely they could've taken this photo at a more flattering angle... I can barely even see you... but look at those precious cheeks, those long eyelashes, that cute little button nose! Look at that face, asking, "Won't somebody please be my Mama?"
This is what confuses me.
When so many people were so eager to adopt from Gabby's institution, when so many were just waiting for more children to be listed... WHY does Gabby still wait??
Is it her diagnoses? Her age? Her photo?
Here's what Reece's Rainbow says about Gabby.
What could there be, in this brief amount of information that is available about Gabby, to explain why her family has not yet come forward?Gabby #11-22DOB: 2009Diagnosis: microcephaly, cardiomyopathy, Spastic quadriparesis (cerebral palsy)Gabby is currently tube fed at the orphanage which could be a result of the CP. She was prescribed medication for her heart, though the brief records we have on her indicate that her heart has not been checked since 2010. The report indicates that her joints are contradicted and she lays in the bed all day. Additional family history is available from the agency partner.
Her age? DOB 2009. So she's two or three years old. No, she's still young, she hasn't entered that 'older child, difficult to place' stage of adoption as so many have... as Katie had. Just a toddler. Plenty of room for early intervention.
Her diagnoses? Well, to the untrained reader, they may sound scary. However, a little research from a committed person decodes this information fairly well. Microcephaly - Gabby has a small head, or small brain. Okay, so she may look physically different (we're not sure how much so since we can't see her head in relation to her body), and she may have cognitive limitations. Katie had Down Syndrome. Reece's Rainbow is a special needs adoption ministry. Cognitive limitations are not unexpected.
Cardiomyopathy... now that sounds scary. A basic understanding of medical terminology tells us that means something's wrong with her heart. But what? A quick internet search tells me that this essentially means that Gabby's heart is weaker than it should be, which can cause it to pump less effectively than it should. Well, that certainly sounds scary. But Gabby's description also indicates that her heart has not been checked since 2010. Two years of no treatment, no monitoring of this condition (and keep in mind that orphanage records can be incomplete or entirely inaccurate), and Gabby is still with us. Far be it from me to say this is an overall good sign - I'm not a doctor or nurse - but the fact that she's made it this far without intervention seems to me like a positive sign for how she would do with the comprehensive medical care available in the United States. More information may be available to a seriously interested family. I'm certain there are a number of families out there whose children suffer from the same condition who could serve as a resource and a support to any family considering adopting Gabby. This diagnosis, while initially scary, can certainly be better understood and dealt with.
Next up... "spastic quadriparesis"... otherwise known as cerebral palsy. Well, we've had so many children from Reece's Rainbow with CP adopted. CP can be as mild as a foot that doesn't function quite as well as the other one. There are so many RR parents out there who can help others understand CP better... and it's a physical disability - worst case, she may need a wheelchair! So what?
Gabby's diagnoses may be intimidating at first. Maybe that's what's holding families back. Maybe they're looking for a child with a simple diagnosis. But what they may not realize is that these complicated terms, these long diagnoses, are truly a blessing in disguise. Some children are labeled with nothing more than 'down syndrome', or 'moderate delays'. Adoptive parents are surprised when they go to meet their child and their needs are far beyond what they were expecting. Gabby has been given a detailed description of specific disabilities. With international adoption, you never quite know what you're going to get... a child whose diagnoses seem scary, but who comes home nearly 'normal'... or a child who is supposedly very mildly delayed who comes home where doctors discover a whole host of other issues. No child can guarantee us an 'easy ride' - and if that's what we're looking for, perhaps we need to re-examine why we're interested in international adoption. And for the committed family - there is help to both understand those diagnoses and deal with them... more help than you could imagine. Truly, if you are a family who has considered Gabby and this is what is holding you back, let that be an obstacle no more. Talk to other parents. Talk to your pediatrician. Talk to a physician at CHOP who specializes in internationally adopted children. Develop a plan. Give Gabby a chance. Without you, she most certainly won't have one at all.
The last possible explanation is the one I dread the most, the one I pray is not the truth. Could it be, that the hastily taken photo of Gabby, the one that shows only a little girl suffering, a shell of what she could be, is holding people back? Could it be that she hasn't been chosen yet because she is not as 'cute' as the other children? My heart aches for the thought that this could be it - because who among us is as beautiful on the outside as we are on the inside? Who among us could be as beautiful as we have the potential to be, were we unloved and made unlovely, as are the children of her institution?
Recently Katie's Mama, Susanna, posted a photo on her blog that was taken of Katie on a particularly horrible day, her passport photo. A very sick little girl. A sad little girl. Certainly not what our society would consider "a cute little baby/child". And yet, she came home, and she blossomed! You can view that post here. If we can all see the light that shines through Katie, that shone through her all along, through the filth and the unlovliness of orphanage life... surely we can see it in Gabby too?
No. I pray that is not the reason Gabby hasn't been chosen yet.
But then why? Why, when people were lining up to find out how to adopt a child from this institution, has no one come forward for this one? Gabby has only TWO WEEKS left to find a family. Two weeks, and her file goes back to the government. Two weeks, and we will have proven right all those people we sought to prove wrong, those people who are convinced that these children should remain in these institutions until they die (sooner, rather than later), because they are not of value. Let her file go back, and we only confirm that belief for them. Friends, just like with Sarah, we cannot let that happen.
Please. Share Gabby. Consider her. Link to this blog. Tell Gabby's short, sad story. Be a part of saving her life. Be a part of sending a message to her country and her institution that these children DO have value, and we DO want them. I cannot call any orphanage a 'good' orphanage... but Gabby's is one of the worst. No child deserves the fate that awaits her if she is not adopted. We have to get her out of there. Don't let any of these barriers hold you back from advocating for her, or, if you are meant to be her family, from adopting her. Don't let Gabby face the fate that awaits her without us.
"Mama? Are you coming for me?"
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Not Too Late
I have been humbled this week. Humbled by a little girl, in a far away country... who I have never met. Sounds familiar, right? But no... this is different.
Meet Ksenia.
I may have mentioned her before. I'm not sure - I tried going back through my blog archives, but I talk too much. Ksenia is in Eastern Europe. She is in a region that is currently only open to Canadian families. If you are not among them, please do not stop reading here. You are still desperately needed.
This photo was taken at her Baby House (the orphanage where children generally reside between the ages of 0-5 years). What a precious little cherub, chubby cheeks, wispy hair.
Ksenia is nine years old now. She was born three months before my middle DBK, my A. This A, the one glowing with joy and life in this birthday picture.
My dear A has not had it easy... but at least on this day... her ninth birthday... she was treated the way a little girl should be treated... like a princess...
I wonder if Ksenia ever had cake. I'll bet she never had a birthday cake with candles, just for her. I know she didn't this year, when she turned nine. Why?
In Ksenia's country, after children 'age out' of their baby houses, they are transferred to institutions. Adult mental institutions. The standard of care there, if it was low at the baby houses, is usually deplorable. Ksenia, like many children, aged out of her baby house and was transferred. I intend to do a full post on the implications of that word, but that is for later. For now, I will let the pictures speak for themselves.
A new picture of Ksenia came in after she was transferred to the institution. Here is that chubby cheeked little cherub now.
Ksenia. Sweet baby girl. Child of God. Wasting away to skin and bones. Filthy. Shaven. Injured... probably at the hands of someone who was supposed to care for her. Abuse is all too common in some orphanages and institutions. Ksenia. Sweet angel. Waiting, all this time, for a Mama and Papa to come. Hanging on through her misery. Unable to do a single thing to help herself. Precious girl. Treated like nothing.
This picture haunts me. I see it when I close my eyes. I don't need to bring it up on my computer screen to remember how heartbreaking it is. I can see them side by side... Ksenia the way she used to be... Ksenia the way she is now. Because of what was done to her... when she should be treated like the princess she is.
Here is the reason I am posting about Ksenia tonight.
Sometimes, special needs children simply 'disappear' from the databases that list them. Sometimes their files are simply no longer with an agency. Sometimes they're gone, without a trace, and we can only guess at what happened to them. Were they adopted, seen for the beautiful individuals they are, in their native country? Were they transferred elsewhere and simply not relisted? Or... worst of all... as children do in orphanages and institutions across the world every day... could they have passed away?
A few days back, Ksenia 'disappeared' from her country's database. She disappeared from Reece's Rainbow. Having seen her most recent picture, most of us were sure this meant the worst for Ksenia. Or no. Perhaps not the worst. Perhaps... a fate worse than death... is the one she's been living in that institution. We began to think, maybe it is for the best, if she's beyond pain, beyond suffering, with Jesus, now.
Ksenia was re-listed today. She is alive. She is still waiting. I praise the Lord for His deliverance of this angel from what we were sure was a tragic end. But at the same time, my heart breaks all over again, because I know that tonight, while I lie here warm in my bed, Ksenia still waits.
We almost lost her. We were sure she was gone. We were sure we were too late to help this little girl know the love of a Forever Family. We mourned. We lamented that we should have tried harder, should have screamed louder, for Ksenia. She sat, waiting for adoption, for YEARS... and no family came forward. Perhaps they all thought someone else would do it.
Our hearts broke.
Then, we were given a second chance. We didn't lose Ksenia. Not yet. But if we don't hurry, we will. This is me, jumping at this second chance. This is me screaming for Ksenia like I should have screamed before. This is me praying, hoping, begging someone to be her Mama, to deliver her from this evil, because I would do it myself if I could... but I'm ineligible.
Here is Ksenia's listing on Reece's Rainbow. Again, she can only be adopted by Canadian families at this time. If you are not Canadian, won't you consider sharing Ksenia with everyone you know, so that through the grapevine, her Forever Family might see her? If you are Canadian, won't you consider sharing Ksenia with everyone you know, so that she might find her Forever Family? Won't you ask your friends to share too? And if you are Canadian, considering adoption... won't you consider Ksenia? Won't you consider saving a life we've been given a second chance to redeem? Donations are not being collected at this time, but I know dozens who are just itching to help bring her home. The obstacle in her adoption will not be financial.
This precious angel has Down Syndrome. That is the crime that has landed her in the place she is today. Down Syndrome. A diagnosis that means many things. An extra chromosome. Some unique challenges. But a diagnosis that should NOT mean living out her numbered days suffering in an institution. Sadly, in Ksenia's country, it usually does. But this doesn't have to be her ending. It almost was. We were sure that her story ended in tragedy. But it hasn't. Not yet.
Ksenia still has a chance. But whether you're eligible and considering adoption, ineligible, not considering adoption, whoever you are, wherever you are... YOU are her chance. Her family will never see her if we do not share her short, sad story with the world.
Won't you help me make this 'second chance' count? Won't you please help me save her life?
Sweet Ksenia... hang on, precious angel. Someone is going to come for you. We're going to make sure of it.
Meet Ksenia.
I may have mentioned her before. I'm not sure - I tried going back through my blog archives, but I talk too much. Ksenia is in Eastern Europe. She is in a region that is currently only open to Canadian families. If you are not among them, please do not stop reading here. You are still desperately needed.
This photo was taken at her Baby House (the orphanage where children generally reside between the ages of 0-5 years). What a precious little cherub, chubby cheeks, wispy hair.
Ksenia is nine years old now. She was born three months before my middle DBK, my A. This A, the one glowing with joy and life in this birthday picture.
My dear A has not had it easy... but at least on this day... her ninth birthday... she was treated the way a little girl should be treated... like a princess...
I wonder if Ksenia ever had cake. I'll bet she never had a birthday cake with candles, just for her. I know she didn't this year, when she turned nine. Why?
In Ksenia's country, after children 'age out' of their baby houses, they are transferred to institutions. Adult mental institutions. The standard of care there, if it was low at the baby houses, is usually deplorable. Ksenia, like many children, aged out of her baby house and was transferred. I intend to do a full post on the implications of that word, but that is for later. For now, I will let the pictures speak for themselves.
A new picture of Ksenia came in after she was transferred to the institution. Here is that chubby cheeked little cherub now.
This picture haunts me. I see it when I close my eyes. I don't need to bring it up on my computer screen to remember how heartbreaking it is. I can see them side by side... Ksenia the way she used to be... Ksenia the way she is now. Because of what was done to her... when she should be treated like the princess she is.
Here is the reason I am posting about Ksenia tonight.
Sometimes, special needs children simply 'disappear' from the databases that list them. Sometimes their files are simply no longer with an agency. Sometimes they're gone, without a trace, and we can only guess at what happened to them. Were they adopted, seen for the beautiful individuals they are, in their native country? Were they transferred elsewhere and simply not relisted? Or... worst of all... as children do in orphanages and institutions across the world every day... could they have passed away?
A few days back, Ksenia 'disappeared' from her country's database. She disappeared from Reece's Rainbow. Having seen her most recent picture, most of us were sure this meant the worst for Ksenia. Or no. Perhaps not the worst. Perhaps... a fate worse than death... is the one she's been living in that institution. We began to think, maybe it is for the best, if she's beyond pain, beyond suffering, with Jesus, now.
Ksenia was re-listed today. She is alive. She is still waiting. I praise the Lord for His deliverance of this angel from what we were sure was a tragic end. But at the same time, my heart breaks all over again, because I know that tonight, while I lie here warm in my bed, Ksenia still waits.
We almost lost her. We were sure she was gone. We were sure we were too late to help this little girl know the love of a Forever Family. We mourned. We lamented that we should have tried harder, should have screamed louder, for Ksenia. She sat, waiting for adoption, for YEARS... and no family came forward. Perhaps they all thought someone else would do it.
Our hearts broke.
Then, we were given a second chance. We didn't lose Ksenia. Not yet. But if we don't hurry, we will. This is me, jumping at this second chance. This is me screaming for Ksenia like I should have screamed before. This is me praying, hoping, begging someone to be her Mama, to deliver her from this evil, because I would do it myself if I could... but I'm ineligible.
Here is Ksenia's listing on Reece's Rainbow. Again, she can only be adopted by Canadian families at this time. If you are not Canadian, won't you consider sharing Ksenia with everyone you know, so that through the grapevine, her Forever Family might see her? If you are Canadian, won't you consider sharing Ksenia with everyone you know, so that she might find her Forever Family? Won't you ask your friends to share too? And if you are Canadian, considering adoption... won't you consider Ksenia? Won't you consider saving a life we've been given a second chance to redeem? Donations are not being collected at this time, but I know dozens who are just itching to help bring her home. The obstacle in her adoption will not be financial.
This precious angel has Down Syndrome. That is the crime that has landed her in the place she is today. Down Syndrome. A diagnosis that means many things. An extra chromosome. Some unique challenges. But a diagnosis that should NOT mean living out her numbered days suffering in an institution. Sadly, in Ksenia's country, it usually does. But this doesn't have to be her ending. It almost was. We were sure that her story ended in tragedy. But it hasn't. Not yet.
Ksenia still has a chance. But whether you're eligible and considering adoption, ineligible, not considering adoption, whoever you are, wherever you are... YOU are her chance. Her family will never see her if we do not share her short, sad story with the world.
Won't you help me make this 'second chance' count? Won't you please help me save her life?
Sweet Ksenia... hang on, precious angel. Someone is going to come for you. We're going to make sure of it.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Prayers... and Doing It Anyways
I come to you, all of you, any of you, on my knees tonight. My heart is desperate, though I can't share exactly why. It concerns my life. It concerns the lives of people I love more than anything in the world. Fear threatens to swallow up my hope. I keep asking myself, can you really do this? Are you really even changing anything? And my heart knows I need to press onward, keep going, never give up, but my flesh is weak and I start to doubt. Doubt myself, doubt God's plan, doubt my choices.
This song comes to mind. Actually, it makes me cry every time I hear it, because it's this very idea I'm trying to remind myself of when life brings me to my knees.
I need prayers. Not just for me but for my whole 'patchwork family'. The people I've 'met' in this adoption community are some of the most prayerful and supportive people I've ever encountered. I have seen you all rise up in prayer, I have seen God move mountains for the children we all pray for every day. Perhaps my faith is weak. The phrase "Faith is not knowing that God can, it is knowing that God will" comes to mind. I don't think I know that... that God will. Yes, I know He can. But how do I know His plan isn't something else?
Maybe, whatever He has planned for us will go forward regardless of our prayers, or anything we say or do. And then one thinks - why pray? But I have to believe, I have to believe in a God who loves His people and hears their cries... I have to believe in the power of prayer, because without it, I have nothing left.
Me, I'm praying... and I'm going to keep trying... to do it anyways.
You... your prayers would mean the world to me.
God... I am turning this over to you. It is too big for me.
This song comes to mind. Actually, it makes me cry every time I hear it, because it's this very idea I'm trying to remind myself of when life brings me to my knees.
I need prayers. Not just for me but for my whole 'patchwork family'. The people I've 'met' in this adoption community are some of the most prayerful and supportive people I've ever encountered. I have seen you all rise up in prayer, I have seen God move mountains for the children we all pray for every day. Perhaps my faith is weak. The phrase "Faith is not knowing that God can, it is knowing that God will" comes to mind. I don't think I know that... that God will. Yes, I know He can. But how do I know His plan isn't something else?
Maybe, whatever He has planned for us will go forward regardless of our prayers, or anything we say or do. And then one thinks - why pray? But I have to believe, I have to believe in a God who loves His people and hears their cries... I have to believe in the power of prayer, because without it, I have nothing left.
Me, I'm praying... and I'm going to keep trying... to do it anyways.
You... your prayers would mean the world to me.
God... I am turning this over to you. It is too big for me.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
What Does An Adoptive Family Look Like?
I found this question bouncing around my brain after reading several blogs, all of which seemed to be large families who had crossed the ocean over and over to bring home more precious children. But I knew also that there were others, and I started to wonder, if everyone out there discounts adopting because they're afraid they don't fit the profile of what an adoptive family should "look like".
Well - guess what? There are adoptive families, indeed, families who have or are completing international adoptions, of all ages, sizes, colors, shapes, parts of the world, walks of life... you name it, I'll find you a family who did it.
Recently, I asked on an international adoption group for photos of families who would be willing to be featured in this post. Responses came in, a few blog links, a few "it's just me right now so I don't know if you're interested", a few "we're not typical..." and I smiled. That was exactly what I was looking for, after all.
So, what does an adoptive family look like?
This is what an adoptive family looks like. This mama was among the first to volunteer her family when I asked for help. They are currently living in South Africa.
Not quite what you pictured? How's this?
This is what an adoptive family looks like. This single mama is in the process of her first international, special needs adoption... much like I will be, one day in the not too distant future. Yup. It only takes one person with a strong will to make a difference to make an adoptive family. Soon, there will be a little girl in that picture with her.
Surprised yet?
Here's the sort of image I had in my head. A large family with kids of all ages. People look at these families' photos and say, "Wow, I could never do that", or "We're too old, our kids are grown", or any number of other things - but if you ask the mom or dad of a big family if they ever looked at someone else's photo and thought the same, many of them will say yes - but then they heard God's call in their life, much louder than anything society puts into our heads.
I'll bet you there was a day in many of these parents' lives when they didn't think they looked like an adoptive family. Yet here they all are.
Here's another single mom adopting for the first time. Every family starts somewhere! I can tell from reading the blogs of people who wait to bring home their first child that the love they have to give is very real, very strong. These are the very people who responded to my query with things like "I don't know if you mean me..." and "I don't have a family picture yet...".
Everybody has a family picture.
Another adoptive family - just normal people like you and I. People think it takes a special kind of family to adopt, and it does, but not in the way so many people think. We think we have to be experts in special needs, we think our families have to take a certain shape or follow a certain formula. We think, adoption is great, it would be a nice thing to do, but that's for someone else. Why? All it really takes is a loving heart and a will to make a difference and learn along the way. Adoptive families are just normal families like yours and mine. We all start somewhere.
There's one more adoptive family I would like to share with you...
This mama hasn't even officially committed to a child yet. In fact, she can't, not for two more years. She's only 23 - USCIS approval requires at least one parent to be 25 or older. She is not married or even in a relationship. She's unemployed for now and living with her mom. There are a million reasons for this woman to say no to adoption. A million mountains that need to be moved before it is even an achievable goal.
But she doesn't care.
Know how I know?
Yeah, I know, you've all figured it out by now even if we've never met...
That's me. I'm what an adoptive family looks like. I'm what the future mother of a child with special needs looks like.
And I still get offered kids' menus at restaurants. ;)
I guess my point here is, don't pigeonhole yourself or your family. Don't decide that you "don't fit the mold" and turn away from that tug on your heart to do more. There are absolutely valid reasons for families to not adopt... but if this image is what's holding you back, tear away the constructs of what you think an internationally adopting family looks like, and you'll be surprised to find that many of you no longer have a reason to say no. And there are more than enough precious faces just waiting to be scooped up. Life is short. Take a leap of faith!
Well - guess what? There are adoptive families, indeed, families who have or are completing international adoptions, of all ages, sizes, colors, shapes, parts of the world, walks of life... you name it, I'll find you a family who did it.
Recently, I asked on an international adoption group for photos of families who would be willing to be featured in this post. Responses came in, a few blog links, a few "it's just me right now so I don't know if you're interested", a few "we're not typical..." and I smiled. That was exactly what I was looking for, after all.
So, what does an adoptive family look like?
This is what an adoptive family looks like. This mama was among the first to volunteer her family when I asked for help. They are currently living in South Africa.
Not quite what you pictured? How's this?
This is what an adoptive family looks like. This single mama is in the process of her first international, special needs adoption... much like I will be, one day in the not too distant future. Yup. It only takes one person with a strong will to make a difference to make an adoptive family. Soon, there will be a little girl in that picture with her.
Surprised yet?
Here's the sort of image I had in my head. A large family with kids of all ages. People look at these families' photos and say, "Wow, I could never do that", or "We're too old, our kids are grown", or any number of other things - but if you ask the mom or dad of a big family if they ever looked at someone else's photo and thought the same, many of them will say yes - but then they heard God's call in their life, much louder than anything society puts into our heads.
I'll bet you there was a day in many of these parents' lives when they didn't think they looked like an adoptive family. Yet here they all are.
Here's another single mom adopting for the first time. Every family starts somewhere! I can tell from reading the blogs of people who wait to bring home their first child that the love they have to give is very real, very strong. These are the very people who responded to my query with things like "I don't know if you mean me..." and "I don't have a family picture yet...".
Everybody has a family picture.
Another adoptive family - just normal people like you and I. People think it takes a special kind of family to adopt, and it does, but not in the way so many people think. We think we have to be experts in special needs, we think our families have to take a certain shape or follow a certain formula. We think, adoption is great, it would be a nice thing to do, but that's for someone else. Why? All it really takes is a loving heart and a will to make a difference and learn along the way. Adoptive families are just normal families like yours and mine. We all start somewhere.
There's one more adoptive family I would like to share with you...
This mama hasn't even officially committed to a child yet. In fact, she can't, not for two more years. She's only 23 - USCIS approval requires at least one parent to be 25 or older. She is not married or even in a relationship. She's unemployed for now and living with her mom. There are a million reasons for this woman to say no to adoption. A million mountains that need to be moved before it is even an achievable goal.
But she doesn't care.
Know how I know?
Yeah, I know, you've all figured it out by now even if we've never met...
That's me. I'm what an adoptive family looks like. I'm what the future mother of a child with special needs looks like.
And I still get offered kids' menus at restaurants. ;)
I guess my point here is, don't pigeonhole yourself or your family. Don't decide that you "don't fit the mold" and turn away from that tug on your heart to do more. There are absolutely valid reasons for families to not adopt... but if this image is what's holding you back, tear away the constructs of what you think an internationally adopting family looks like, and you'll be surprised to find that many of you no longer have a reason to say no. And there are more than enough precious faces just waiting to be scooped up. Life is short. Take a leap of faith!
Friday, May 11, 2012
Being Grateful... The Unwrapping and more!
Before you get too excited, the video(s) are still to come. I can't find the cord that uploads that stuff to my computer, and I had my brother take it on my camera instead of my phone because I thought it would upload faster. Yeah, if only I could find the cord. Brilliant, Katie. I can, however, share a few birthday pictures :) But that... is not all this post is about. It is about being grateful... on every level... to someone you love for a special gift... to the people around you for their love and support... to God for our salvation.
But let's start with the small stuff. This is fun. I love watching her on her birthday. This is a little girl who more than once has had nothing to her name, to whom birthdays were only another day, just with a bit of ruckus that she didn't understand. I have photos of her third birthday... not on my computer but in print... and I see a scared, befuddled little girl trying to understand why all these grown-ups are standing so close to her, and why she can't just grab that yummy cake in front of her. Tuesday, this is what I saw:
Our thanks goes out to our friend Shannon (whose adorable daughter is on the right) for the gorgeous cake! It was as delicious as it was beautiful!
And this is even before she found out what her BIG PRESENT was. Look how happy she is. She took forever making her wish. The candles dripped. I wondered what she was wishing for. I hope she gets it, whatever it is.
After this we ate the deliciousness until just a quarter of the cake remained (I'm still convinced there couldn't possibly have been enough. Shannon may not know it yet, but she's earned herself a regular customer...). Then we brought down The Big Box.
She didn't get it at first. She didn't understand. She knew it was something good, we were going someplace fun, but what else was in that box? The look on her face was like the look when she first saw her re-decorated bedroom
Complete and utter inability to comprehend what was before her. When I took this picture nearly two years ago, it was as though I could hear her thoughts... "This is for me? All for me? For real?"
It was the same on Tuesday. As she started to go through the contents of her suitcase, her excitement mounted, although sometimes I had to explain things to her ("why am I getting gum?" --airplane, silly!). Over time it set in. She took the announcement card I made that was attached to the balloons to gymnastics with her, and was so excited to share it with her teachers and classmates.
Then, the greatest gift of the whole day happened, on the way out of gymnastics. She looked at me in the parking lot and said, "I am just so happy today because of you, Katie."
Be still my beating heart. Maybe she didn't squeal and immediately comprehend what was going on when she opened the box. Maybe she didn't react quite the way a typical child would - A has some delays. But that sentence, out of the mouth of the little girl who was turned to stone by my hugs for years... well, I would wrap a million giant boxes of balloons for that.
Every day since then, she has told me how excited she is, how happy she is, and she makes sure to tell me thank you for her gift. You know, the one that hasn't even happened yet. As I tucked her into bed tonight, she said "I am just so excited, I just can't stop thinking about it, and thank you, Katie!" ... followed by a big hug. Arms around the neck hug.
This child is truly grateful for what she has been given. She didn't look up at me at the end of the day and ask whether there were more presents. She looked up at me and said "I'm happy. Thank you." Life has taught her that some things are simply not to be taken for granted, particularly gestures made out of love. Certainly she still had a lot to learn, but in turn, we have a lot to learn from her too.
Over the past few weeks, I've heard similar cries of thanks from the blogs I follow. Families working hard to bring their children home, each day without them a struggle (one that I know too well), swallowing their pride and asking others for help, and then, rather than saying "What else can you do for me?" - they pause to simply give thanks for every last gift. It is humbling to sit behind my computer and read about the mountains God is moving for these children, the people who pour their hearts and souls into saving the lives of these children, those who give selflessly, those who receive gratefully. It's a world that I'm grateful to be a part of. A world that I'm grateful to have been welcomed into.
Many of these families will bring home children with much more serious delays than my A, who have been even more deprived their whole lives long. These children will express that appreciation for the simplest of pleasures, for the things we take for granted. A filling meal. A clean bed. Someone to hug goodnight. Someone to love them.
It has made me think... perhaps we should all be more like all of them. The children, the families, my A. Maybe - no, definitely - we have a responsibility to learn the lesson they are subtly teaching us.
Look around you and give thanks. Don't ask, "What can I have next," when you could say "Thank you for what I've been given." Those of us who are Christian, if we have truly followed the Bible, know that we are truly unworthy of the gift that God has bestowed upon us, the gift of life, and the gift of salvation. We are so unworthy that nothing we can do can possibly make us deserving of this gift. But I think we don't often enough thank Him for it. I know I don't. In the three days since A found out about her birthday trip, she has thanked me more than as many times. Yes, she's excited, but she doesn't only express that she's excited. She doesn't take it for granted. She remembers to give thanks.
When I think about it, I realize that I absolutely do not thank God enough for His amazing gifts. Honestly, even if I spent every moment in prayer, I could not achieve that. But I have not been trying hard enough. I have taken for granted things that I should be eternally thankful for. For that, I am sorry. Tonight, I want to be grateful. And I've come to realize... I have so much to be grateful for.
I am grateful for my life. My salvation. My Lord, who died for me on the cross.
I am grateful for my family, for the life I was born into, for the privileges I have had, for the people around me.
I am grateful for my Dear Borrowed Kids, for the opportunity to teach them and the opportunity to learn from them.
I am grateful to be a part of the adoption community, even though my own adoption is at least two years off. I am grateful for how welcoming everyone has been. I am grateful for their friendship.
I am grateful for the lives of millions of children I have never laid eyes upon. Every single individual life. The orphans. The ones we are all trying so hard to help.
I am grateful for the priviledge of watching them come home, watching them blossom and grow and change, seeing the bountiful meadow revealed by the mountains God has moved to bring them home.
And so much more. But tonight, I am humbled by the thought that I have been given amazing gifts - opportunities to watch God in action. Opportunities to witness human kindness and compassion. My heart is full of love today, for my A and my other two DBKs, for the orphans, for their families, for every single person who supports them... for the lesson I learn from them about being grateful.
To all of you who are reading this, you are the ones I am grateful for. Thank you... for everything you do. Thank you for changing children's lives. Thank you for changing my life.
But let's start with the small stuff. This is fun. I love watching her on her birthday. This is a little girl who more than once has had nothing to her name, to whom birthdays were only another day, just with a bit of ruckus that she didn't understand. I have photos of her third birthday... not on my computer but in print... and I see a scared, befuddled little girl trying to understand why all these grown-ups are standing so close to her, and why she can't just grab that yummy cake in front of her. Tuesday, this is what I saw:
Our thanks goes out to our friend Shannon (whose adorable daughter is on the right) for the gorgeous cake! It was as delicious as it was beautiful!
And this is even before she found out what her BIG PRESENT was. Look how happy she is. She took forever making her wish. The candles dripped. I wondered what she was wishing for. I hope she gets it, whatever it is.
After this we ate the deliciousness until just a quarter of the cake remained (I'm still convinced there couldn't possibly have been enough. Shannon may not know it yet, but she's earned herself a regular customer...). Then we brought down The Big Box.
She didn't get it at first. She didn't understand. She knew it was something good, we were going someplace fun, but what else was in that box? The look on her face was like the look when she first saw her re-decorated bedroom
Complete and utter inability to comprehend what was before her. When I took this picture nearly two years ago, it was as though I could hear her thoughts... "This is for me? All for me? For real?"
It was the same on Tuesday. As she started to go through the contents of her suitcase, her excitement mounted, although sometimes I had to explain things to her ("why am I getting gum?" --airplane, silly!). Over time it set in. She took the announcement card I made that was attached to the balloons to gymnastics with her, and was so excited to share it with her teachers and classmates.
Then, the greatest gift of the whole day happened, on the way out of gymnastics. She looked at me in the parking lot and said, "I am just so happy today because of you, Katie."
Be still my beating heart. Maybe she didn't squeal and immediately comprehend what was going on when she opened the box. Maybe she didn't react quite the way a typical child would - A has some delays. But that sentence, out of the mouth of the little girl who was turned to stone by my hugs for years... well, I would wrap a million giant boxes of balloons for that.
Every day since then, she has told me how excited she is, how happy she is, and she makes sure to tell me thank you for her gift. You know, the one that hasn't even happened yet. As I tucked her into bed tonight, she said "I am just so excited, I just can't stop thinking about it, and thank you, Katie!" ... followed by a big hug. Arms around the neck hug.
This child is truly grateful for what she has been given. She didn't look up at me at the end of the day and ask whether there were more presents. She looked up at me and said "I'm happy. Thank you." Life has taught her that some things are simply not to be taken for granted, particularly gestures made out of love. Certainly she still had a lot to learn, but in turn, we have a lot to learn from her too.
Over the past few weeks, I've heard similar cries of thanks from the blogs I follow. Families working hard to bring their children home, each day without them a struggle (one that I know too well), swallowing their pride and asking others for help, and then, rather than saying "What else can you do for me?" - they pause to simply give thanks for every last gift. It is humbling to sit behind my computer and read about the mountains God is moving for these children, the people who pour their hearts and souls into saving the lives of these children, those who give selflessly, those who receive gratefully. It's a world that I'm grateful to be a part of. A world that I'm grateful to have been welcomed into.
Many of these families will bring home children with much more serious delays than my A, who have been even more deprived their whole lives long. These children will express that appreciation for the simplest of pleasures, for the things we take for granted. A filling meal. A clean bed. Someone to hug goodnight. Someone to love them.
It has made me think... perhaps we should all be more like all of them. The children, the families, my A. Maybe - no, definitely - we have a responsibility to learn the lesson they are subtly teaching us.
Look around you and give thanks. Don't ask, "What can I have next," when you could say "Thank you for what I've been given." Those of us who are Christian, if we have truly followed the Bible, know that we are truly unworthy of the gift that God has bestowed upon us, the gift of life, and the gift of salvation. We are so unworthy that nothing we can do can possibly make us deserving of this gift. But I think we don't often enough thank Him for it. I know I don't. In the three days since A found out about her birthday trip, she has thanked me more than as many times. Yes, she's excited, but she doesn't only express that she's excited. She doesn't take it for granted. She remembers to give thanks.
When I think about it, I realize that I absolutely do not thank God enough for His amazing gifts. Honestly, even if I spent every moment in prayer, I could not achieve that. But I have not been trying hard enough. I have taken for granted things that I should be eternally thankful for. For that, I am sorry. Tonight, I want to be grateful. And I've come to realize... I have so much to be grateful for.
I am grateful for my life. My salvation. My Lord, who died for me on the cross.
I am grateful for my family, for the life I was born into, for the privileges I have had, for the people around me.
I am grateful for my Dear Borrowed Kids, for the opportunity to teach them and the opportunity to learn from them.
I am grateful to be a part of the adoption community, even though my own adoption is at least two years off. I am grateful for how welcoming everyone has been. I am grateful for their friendship.
I am grateful for the lives of millions of children I have never laid eyes upon. Every single individual life. The orphans. The ones we are all trying so hard to help.
I am grateful for the priviledge of watching them come home, watching them blossom and grow and change, seeing the bountiful meadow revealed by the mountains God has moved to bring them home.
And so much more. But tonight, I am humbled by the thought that I have been given amazing gifts - opportunities to watch God in action. Opportunities to witness human kindness and compassion. My heart is full of love today, for my A and my other two DBKs, for the orphans, for their families, for every single person who supports them... for the lesson I learn from them about being grateful.
To all of you who are reading this, you are the ones I am grateful for. Thank you... for everything you do. Thank you for changing children's lives. Thank you for changing my life.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Keep Staying Tuned!
I know I said I would post the 'after' tonight - but being as I have all of about ten followers, I'm sure you can all understand that birthdays tend to be days in which we schedule far more things than we can actually achieve. We're well into our third hour of bedtime with six kids around and there's just no way I'm getting video uploaded tonight. Sorry - promise to post in the morning!
Putting Disney World in a Box
Somebody's nine today.
She's all decked out in new birthday finery for her day at school. There are pretty pencils in her backpack to pass out to her class (food treats are not allowed). I let her choose her own lunch (within limits). She chose water, a cosmic brownie, watermelon, and cheddar cheese.
Being treated like a princess. Just like she deserves. Just like every child deserves.
When I dropped her off at school I set to work. Operation Put Disney World in a Box has commenced.
Step 1: Secure your toddler. Stray toddlers can be hazardous when completing engineering feats such as this one. Food is always a good way to occupy your little tornado.
Step 2: Gather your materials. Do not forget anything, for once you start there is no going back. You will not want to undo what you have done to include a forgotten item. Gather EVERYTHING. (Please note that this photo is missing the tape, scissors, tissue paper, gum, and disney art toy... ahem.)
Step 3: Wrap box. Pray you are better at wrapping than I am, because this was by far the most challenging step. I have now used every shred of pink wrapping paper in this house.
Step 4: Package materials nicely in suitcase. This part is fun. Cross your fingers that they look half this decent coming out though.
Step 5: Create Surprise. ALSO FUN! This part required an earlier trip to the library to print in color though - a trip of which the toddler did not approve.
Step 6: Attach Awesomeness. This ensures a smooth delivery of the surprise itself before we get to the goodies underneath. It is also a reminder that there is no such thing as too many extra scrapbooking supplies lying around.
Step 7: Package your materials, prepare to close the hatch. Do not underestimate the ability of helium to get in your way at just the right time...
Step... uhh, what step were we on again?: Finally FINISHED! Pat yourself on the back, you have now concealed Disney World (for the most part) in a box. Note that the amount of time it will take to remove Disney World from the box will be infinitesimally shorter than the time it took to put it there.
Step Eleventy Billion: HIDE Disney World in a Box... no small feat, trust me! Be sure to hide in the least suspected (and/or most messy/inaccessible) place. 17 year old brother's room.... perfect!
Finally, relax. You don't have to lift that box again until... oh shoot, is that what time it is?? ;)
Stay tuned for tonight's post... it's sure to be a good one... letting Disney World out of the box!
She's all decked out in new birthday finery for her day at school. There are pretty pencils in her backpack to pass out to her class (food treats are not allowed). I let her choose her own lunch (within limits). She chose water, a cosmic brownie, watermelon, and cheddar cheese.
Being treated like a princess. Just like she deserves. Just like every child deserves.
When I dropped her off at school I set to work. Operation Put Disney World in a Box has commenced.
Step 1: Secure your toddler. Stray toddlers can be hazardous when completing engineering feats such as this one. Food is always a good way to occupy your little tornado.
 |
| This one is not so much a fan of the watermelon. |
Step 2: Gather your materials. Do not forget anything, for once you start there is no going back. You will not want to undo what you have done to include a forgotten item. Gather EVERYTHING. (
 |
| Pardon my messy kitchen... |
 |
| Happy Birthday, A! It's an Evenflo car seat!! |
Step 4: Package materials nicely in suitcase. This part is fun. Cross your fingers that they look half this decent coming out though.
 |
| Yes, those are my feet. Hooray for shoes older than aforementioned toddler? |
Step 5: Create Surprise. ALSO FUN! This part required an earlier trip to the library to print in color though - a trip of which the toddler did not approve.
 |
| Think she'll like it? |
Step 6: Attach Awesomeness. This ensures a smooth delivery of the surprise itself before we get to the goodies underneath. It is also a reminder that there is no such thing as too many extra scrapbooking supplies lying around.
 |
| Yes, I got all the way to the last letter before I realized I didn't have a T. |
Step 7: Package your materials, prepare to close the hatch. Do not underestimate the ability of helium to get in your way at just the right time...
 |
| No, the balloons didn't all fit. I had to cut one off. It's tied to her chair. |
Step... uhh, what step were we on again?: Finally FINISHED! Pat yourself on the back, you have now concealed Disney World (for the most part) in a box. Note that the amount of time it will take to remove Disney World from the box will be infinitesimally shorter than the time it took to put it there.
 |
| Yes, my friends, that is THREE rolls of princess paper. |
Step Eleventy Billion: HIDE Disney World in a Box... no small feat, trust me! Be sure to hide in the least suspected (and/or most messy/inaccessible) place. 17 year old brother's room.... perfect!
 |
| I told you it was messy. |
Finally, relax. You don't have to lift that box again until... oh shoot, is that what time it is?? ;)
Stay tuned for tonight's post... it's sure to be a good one... letting Disney World out of the box!
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